Chapter 15 #2
The summerhouse sat at the far edge of the circuit path facing the pond and the setting sun.
Its elevated position and honey-colored stone made it visible for miles—a circumstance that Ambrose thought unfortunate as it was by far the least pleasing of the garden buildings, though few agreed with him on this point.
It was clear the original design had been patterned after the Pantheon in Rome.
The steps led to a portico with an unadorned pediment supported by two Doric columns on the inside and two square supports on the outside.
It boggled the mind why they did not use four columns.
Beyond the porch was a central block with a dome like the Pantheon.
But unlike the Pantheon, the summerhouse had two lower side wings with sloping roofs.
And instead of a solid edifice or an open-air pavilion, it had regular sash windows breaking up the facade.
To Ambrose it looked like a strange hybrid of a cottage and a classical temple.
No doubt the modifications made the building more practical for hosting visitors in England’s weather.
But Ambrose was convinced there were better ways to achieve the desired result.
Over the years he had even drawn a few plans, though he had shown them to nobody.
He wondered if Susanna would be interested in them?
Grace appeared at the door and welcomed them inside to rest.
As the party filed into the building, the newcomers rained down compliments.
The main room was an octagon, topped by the dome with doors leading to the side rooms on the left and right. In the center of the room were a table and chairs and on the side a buffet brimming with food.
“You all must have a lemonade,” Grace said.
Ambrose accepted a full glass from a servant and offered it to Miss Witworth. She took it with a soft smile and thanks. In short order everyone was watered and sitting down to full plates.
Annoyingly, William had not left Miss Susanna’s side, but thankfully the laughter had ceased. When Ambrose tried to attend to Miss Colley’s comments on the weather, he could not help but watch Miss Susanna’s expressions.
For a woman who declared no interest in the elder Hartley, she certainly smiled often in his company. About halfway through the meal, he saw her dimple flash at William.
Suddenly Ambrose was on his feet.
The rest of the party turned to stare at him. He did not properly know why he had stood but now needed a reason.
“Would anyone like more lemonade?” he asked.
When nobody replied in the affirmative, Ambrose moved to the buffet and poured himself a glass. He gulped it down, trying to relieve the dryness of his mouth. What madness was this?
He refilled his glass but instead of returning to the table, he stalked to the open door, hoping a breeze and the view would cool his head. As he stared out over the pond, he tried to make himself rational again.
With a few more sips of lemonade, it became clear to him that it wasn’t Miss Susanna’s smile but his brother’s behavior that most upset him.
Was he still trying to teach Ambrose how to charm a woman?
Or was he merely flirting for enjoyment?
In either case it was not fair to Miss Susanna.
She was not some toy for William to play with and discard.
More frustrating still, there was little that Ambrose could do about the situation. If he spoke to William, it would likely encourage him to greater foolishness. And he had already warned Miss Susanna—a warning she had clearly not heeded.
Perhaps she enjoyed flirting with William, just as she enjoyed teasing Ambrose.
It was all a game to her. Stealing his notebook, mocking him about his requirements, and making outrageous offers to let him practice his charms were all some kind of recreation for her.
He would do well to remember that whenever they were in company.
It would save him from confusion and irritation.
The soft click of shoes on the marble made Ambrose turn slightly.
Grace approached with a quizzical brow.
“I am fine,” Ambrose said firmly to head off her questions.
“Really? And here I thought you were sulking,” she returned, her eyebrows arching over her dark eyes.
Ambrose scoffed. “What could I possibly be sulking about?”
“What indeed?”
Her arch tone was too much by half. Why must everyone be teasing or pretending at secret knowledge?
Ambrose took a sip of his lemonade, refusing to be goaded into explaining anything.
“Miss Colley has spent much of the morning with Mr. Scott,” Grace said into the silence.
“Yes, she and Mr. Scott appear to have much in common.”
“I am sure she will prefer your conversation once you make the effort.”
Ambrose frowned but did not respond. Did Grace think he wasn’t making an effort? He had committed himself to a house party simply to find a wife! Though he could not be upset at his sister’s concern when he had actively involved her in his plans.
“Perhaps if Mr. Scott was otherwise occupied?” she offered.
Ambrose was seized with an idea. “Might you ask Miss Susanna to keep him company?”
“I suppose,” Grace said slowly.
It was an excellent scheme. For if Susanna was with Mr. Scott, she could not be with William. And once he was no longer distracted by their behavior, he would be able to properly evaluate Miss Colley. Completing that item on his list would move him one step closer to finally finding a wife.