Chapter Eighteen
It wasn’t going to be a summer fair in the traditional sense, Leo reflected, standing at the front door with Florence.
It certainly wasn’t going to be anything like the ones he remembered from his childhood.
Back then, the sun had always shone, the birds had always sung, the butterflies had always danced, and the whole event had looked like a painting of some bucolic wonderland.
Today, by contrast, the skies were a heavy slate-grey, the birds and butterflies were sheltering in trees and hedges—if they had any sense anyway—and even the most talented of artists would have struggled to make the scene look inviting.
And yet…for the first time in a very long time, he was actually looking forward to it.
This fair, he suspected, was going to be fun.
‘Here we go.’ He smiled at Florence as the first cart-load of guests arrived in the courtyard.
In a few minutes, the house would be filled with his tenants and their families.
It was strange…and slightly nerve-racking.
His father, though adamant about the fair’s always going ahead, had only ever made token appearances, walking through the crowd like a king in front of his subjects, judging the competitions and then making a brief speech, before retreating back to his palace.
He and Florence, on the other hand, would be acting as hosts, opening their home and welcoming everyone inside… mingling.
His father had never mingled with anyone outside the ton in his life.
‘Here we go,’ Florence echoed, her eyes fixed on the approaching cart.
Leo kept his gaze on her, trying to read her expression.
She’d been acting differently ever since he’d proudly carried a tea tray back to his study, a feat he’d achieved despite the half-horrified, half-amused reactions of his kitchen staff.
It wasn’t an obvious change. Nobody else would likely have noticed, but the sparkle in her eyes had faded again, replaced by a muted, withdrawn look.
For the life of him, he couldn’t understand why.
One minute they’d been laughing and teasing each other and then… this.
‘Is everything all right?’ he murmured.
‘Of course.’ She gave him a swift sidelong look. ‘I’m just nervous.’
‘Ah.’ He nodded with understanding. That made sense. He was feeling moderately anxious about the situation himself. Only something told him there was more to it than that…
There was no time to enquire further, however, as people were already heading up the stone steps, also looking nervous.
Or, in several cases, downright terrified.
He couldn’t blame them. Tenants had never been allowed anywhere near the front door in the past. His father would have had apoplexy at the very idea.
Some of the new arrivals probably thought the message they’d received that morning had been a mistake and they were about to find themselves thrown out on their ear, which meant that it was his job to set them at ease.
If only he knew how. How did one go about setting people at ease?
‘Welcome to Rainton.’ He inclined his head to the new arrivals, hating how stiff and formal he sounded.
There was a flurry of bows and curtseys while he racked his brains for something else to say. Should he mention the weather? Several people looked quite soggy, but it seemed rude to mention the fact.
Fortunately, Florence saved him by stepping forward and gesturing to the small army of footmen standing to one side.
‘Please come in. If you’d all like to leave your coats and hats, Mr Rimmer will take you inside for some tea.
I’m sure everybody would like to warm up.
Then we have some activities set up for the children in the long gallery. ’
‘Thank you,’ Leo said as people scurried away.
‘Don’t worry, I know how to do this, even if I’m not…’ She stopped abruptly, as if she was biting her tongue. ‘Never mind.’ She gave her head a small shake. ‘Our next guests are arriving.’
The games had been a little more raucous than she’d planned, Florence had to admit as she descended the grand staircase an hour later.
So loud, in fact, that her ears were still ringing.
Thankfully, however, nothing was broken, only a few small children had cried—mainly about not winning, though thankfully a few mothers had been on hand to comfort them—and it was time for the grown-up competitions.
‘Now, if the children would like to go with Jane…’ she announced once they reached the hall, throwing a grateful smile at her maid, who was standing by with a stalwart expression, ready to take her new charges away. ‘It’s time for the prize-giving.’
There was a scurry of feet as they all hurried away, leaving her free to draw in a deep breath, smooth her skirts, lift her chin, and then go to join Leo in the Green Room.
It had taken a couple of hours, but she’d finally recovered from the initial shock of the old marquess’s letter.
As she recalled, Mrs Fitch had called it a list of ‘kindly meant’ instructions, but in her opinion there had been nothing kindly about it.
Leo’s father had wanted to control every facet of his son’s life—first and foremost, his choice of wife.
‘Select a bride whose fortune will enhance the estate, whose temper will benefit your domestic harmony, and whose bloodline is worthy of our illustrious family.’
The words were seared into her brain. She’d suspected something of the sort, but seeing them written down in black and white had shaken her more than she’d anticipated.
Now she knew that Leo’s father wouldn’t just have disapproved of her.
He would have detested her, just like Mrs Fitch and Sewell had no doubt detested her.
As Leo himself had at first detested her!
And even though she wasn’t ashamed of who she was and where she came from—only what she’d done to Leo—now she truly realised the size of the gulf between them, and she couldn’t help but feel humiliated and insulted, and hurt too.
Because she was the very antithesis of the woman he’d been supposed to marry!
A bride without any fortune, with too many opinions, who didn’t possess a single drop of ‘illustrious’ blood!
And there could be no making the best of anything because, in his father’s eyes, their union was the worst thing that could possibly have happened, not just to Leo, but to the estate.
How was it possible to ‘make the best’ of that?
The blunt truth was that she didn’t belong at Rainton and she never would.
And what if the old marquess was right about her?
What if she’d already ruined Leo’s life by trapping him?
And then kept on ruining it by encouraging him to go against his father’s ‘instructions’, by getting rid of Mrs Fitch and Sewell?
What if everything she’d done, and was doing, was just the first step towards…
what were the words again…‘the ruination and the collapse of everything I have spent so many years striving to achieve…’?
What if, in a few days or weeks or a year even, Leo came to think that way again too?
What if she really was the worst thing that could ever have happened to a man she was falling in love with?
She pulled her shoulders back as she made her way to one of the competition tables.
It was laden with at least a dozen plates of biscuits, the kind she would normally have been salivating over, if the knot of misery in her stomach hadn’t completely destroyed her appetite.
It was a stark contrast to the way she’d felt that morning.
She’d been so excited about the fair, but now just keeping her head up felt like an effort, as though she was holding herself together by the thinnest of threads.
‘Are we allowed to taste them, do you think?’
She half turned her head as Leo’s breath skimmed her cheek. ‘Yes…’ She felt the knot twist even tighter. ‘It’s a baking competition. We probably ought to.’
‘It’s hard to know where to start. They all look delicious.’ He picked up a biscuit with raisins and held it to her lips. ‘Judging contests is more fun than I expected.’
‘Mmm.’ She managed to twist her mouth into some approximation of a smile as she chewed.
Leo held on to her gaze, his eyes darkening as he lowered his head. ‘By the way, I have a surprise for you later.’
Her stomach lurched so violently, she almost brought the biscuit up again. All she wanted to do later was curl up in a corner and scream her emotions into a pillow. ‘Oh?’
‘Yes.’ He winked, as if he was genuinely enjoying himself, as if he didn’t know that she was everything his father had loathed… ‘But you have to wait and see.’
She gritted her teeth, then kept them gritted as the afternoon dragged on.
After the baking competition came flower arranging, then embroidery, then wood carving and finally landscape painting, after which she presented the prizes to loud applause, and Leo gave a speech, thanking everyone for coming despite the weather and suggesting they all adjourn for the picnic.
‘Ready for your surprise?’ Leo murmured as the crowd headed towards the ballroom. ‘It’s upstairs.’
‘Now?’ She stiffened, every nerve suddenly on high alert. ‘What about our guests?’
‘You said we ought to make ourselves scarce.’ He offered an arm. ‘We can show ourselves again later at the dance. In the meantime, Rimmer will keep an eye on things.’
She nodded reluctantly, unable to think of an excuse. ‘Very well.’