Chapter 2
As promised, Colin wrote to his sister, accepting her invitation. He received her reply four days later.
My dearest brother,
I am overjoyed that you and the girls decided to join us. We miss you, Colin.
Of course you may arrive early. Now that the session has ended, Drake is anxious to get out of London for the fresh country air, and we expect to leave for Dorset in two days. We should arrive on Saturday next.
I am sending a post ahead and alerting the servants should you arrive ahead of us.
Your devoted sister,
Honoria Burwood
Colin smiled that his sister included her title. As unassuming as she was, Honoria did delight in her role as duchess. As well she should. She was born to be a grand lady. Thank goodness fate had stepped in and secured her both a lofty title and the man she’d loved for so many years.
Once the girls learned they’d been given permission to arrive before the other guests, they badgered Colin nonstop to leave for Hartridge House.
Two days after receiving Honoria’s response, on a dreary Sunday morning, Colin sat across from his daughters, jostled from yet another bump in the road.
Confined in the carriage, he had little to do other than stare at the girls, their chestnut curls and warm brown eyes so like their mother’s.
As they journeyed toward Hartridge House, he wished he’d been on horseback, leaving the carriage to his daughters.
“Are we there yet, Papa?” Ellie asked for the fifty-third time.
Pulling out his pocket watch, he bit back a smile and summoned up his waning patience. “We are about a mile closer than when you asked me fifteen minutes ago.”
And Colin was loath to admit he hoped the carriage would travel just a wee bit faster. Anything to stop Ellie’s incessant questions.
Thankfully, Burwood’s estate in Dorset was less than a full day’s travel from Blackthorne Manor, Colin’s home and estate east of Chard. With luck, they would arrive at Hartridge House by late afternoon.
“I know,” Cassie said. “Let’s play a game.”
“Excellent idea.” Colin gave an approving nod to his eldest. Perhaps a game would keep Ellie’s mind occupied longer than fifteen minutes.
Her brow furrowing, Ellie asked, “What type of game? We don’t have a hoop, and we can’t hide anywhere in this carriage.”
“A guessing game. We can take turns thinking of something we want to do at Uncle Drake and Aunt Honoria’s party, and the others have to guess what it is.”
The plural others caught Colin’s attention. Hair on the back of his neck stood at attention. “I believe I shall leave the game to you girls. It would be an unfair advantage as I know everything you both like to do.”
Not one to take no for an answer, Ellie slid from beside her sister to sit next to Colin, then shook his arm. “You have to play, Papa!”
Cassie joined the attack. “You can be the first to think of something, and Ellie and I will guess.”
“Very well. Now, let me see. Something I want to do. Hmm.” Colin closed his eyes, enjoying the brief moment of silence as he pretended to ponder his choice. “Ah, I think I have it.”
“Is it to go fishing with Uncle Drake?” Ellie asked.
Cassie frowned at her sister. “That’s not how you play. You can’t just blurt out what you think it is before you ask for clues.”
Ellie sank back against the carriage squabs. “Well, how was I supposed to know? You didn’t give any rules in this made-up game.”
“Girls. Girls. If this game results in bickering, no one shall play. Ellie, you may ask another question for a clue.” He sent Cassie an appropriately fatherly glare before catching the pink flash of Ellie’s tongue directed at her sister.
“Do you use a fishing pole?”
Hmm. Fair point. “I could, but not necessarily.”
Cassie straightened in her seat. “Will you be inside or outside when you do it?”
“It could be either.”
After a moan from both girls, Cassie said, “You are no help!”
“You were the ones who wanted me to play. I can’t make it too easy for you, can I?” He finished his question with a wink.
“Do you want to do it with a lady?” Ellie said, her face all innocence.
Colin fought a smile. “That would quite defeat the purpose of my wish.” Both girls sulked. “Do you give up?”
Cassie shook her head, chestnut curls bouncing around her shoulders. “Do you need anything special to do it? Like cards, a sword, or a horse?”
“You cheat! That’s too many questions!” Ellie complained, her bottom lip protruding comically.
“It’s my game.”
Good grief. How could a simple game become so contentious?
God help him, he couldn’t understand the female sex, especially those of the younger variety.
In his opinion, boys would have settled the matter in seconds, having laid out the rules of the game at the beginning.
If Margery were there, she would have the girls in hand in a trice.
Colin felt her absence keenly at such times.
Not to mention the long nights alone in his bed.
He missed her warmth and soft scent. Of course, during the last years of her life, he’d grown accustomed to sleeping alone.
Both had agreed it was for the best, with Colin desiring her comfort and Margery his protection from her illness.
After a few more moments of bickering, Cassie remembered the game. “You didn’t answer, Papa. Do you need anything in particular to do it?”
“Not really, other than perhaps a comfortable chair.”
Cassie’s brow furrowed, her forefinger tapping against her lip. “Is it to read a book?”
Although on occasion Colin had enjoyed a good book, he preferred more active pastimes. He smiled to himself, realizing what he wished to do had completely confounded his daughters. “No.”
Cassie threw up her hands. “I give up.”
“I haven’t.” Ellie snuggled closer to Colin’s side. “Is it something you prefer to do alone?”
“Yes.” He grinned at her.
A mischievous glint appeared in his younger daughter’s eyes. “Is it something you say you want on a daily basis?”
He touched her nose and laughed. “Yes.”
Cassie’s eyes widened. “I know!”
Ellie stuck her tongue out again. “You said you gave up.” Ellie’s brown eyes met his. “It’s to enjoy a few minutes of peace and quiet.”
“Correct. A futile hope, perhaps. Now, if you two would like to continue your game without me, I think I shall take a nap.”
“You’re no fun, Papa,” Ellie said, her bottom lip sticking out again.
He stretched his long legs, placing his booted feet on the carriage seat opposite him, which Ellie had vacated, and closed his eyes.
He reflected on Ellie’s statement, and the truth of it, although no surprise, hit him hard.
He hadn’t always been such a bore. If the girls only knew the heartache he’d caused his father and mother during his Eton years.
His pranks had earned him a sound paddling from the headmaster more than a few times.
Even Oxford hadn’t settled him down. Nights out with friends had occasionally left him too foxed for his classes.
But Margery’s illness and death had taken all the joy from his life. It was as if he’d crawled into the grave with her, already nothing but a shriveled heart after years of her illness.
As the girls’ laughter filled the small compartment, distant memories resurfaced. Just out of reach, like ghosts, they drifted in and out, enough to taunt him with a promise of something he couldn’t grasp, then disappear only to return to haunt him again later.
Perhaps Honoria was right, and it was time to start living again. But how could he resurrect that man when he no longer remembered who that man was?
He’d think about that later. At that moment, he only wanted peace and quiet, to endure the journey, and eventually survive the house party.
Anne thought the long journey from London to Dorset would never end.
Andrew was quick to remind her it would have taken even longer had they left from their estate in Kent.
Finally, after being cramped in the carriage for hours, she gazed out the window at Hartridge House as they came to a halt in front of the grand estate. Memories flooded back of the last time she’d been at the Duke of Burwood’s country seat.
She could have been the mistress of it all! But Andrew was right. She wouldn’t have been happy with a man who loved someone else, especially when the woman was a dear friend.
Servants lined up to greet them, and after Honoria and Burwood welcomed Andrew, Alice, and the girls, Honoria reached out to take Anne’s hands as she approached. “Anne, I’m so glad you and your family could come. Juliana and Victor are here already, and of course, Charlotte and Simon as well.”
Anne flinched inwardly at the mention of their friends, all with husbands, even Charlotte! One glance at Burwood gazing adoringly at Honoria by his side was enough to predict how the entire house party would unfold with couples paired up.
Quick to sense Anne’s discomfort, Honoria added, “Of course, Miranda will be arriving with her brother and Bea. And we’ve invited Mr. Grey and Mr. Ford.”
Sparks of interest ignited in Anne’s mind. “Mr. Grey? Isn’t he the owner of the gaming hell?”
“He’s also my cousin,” Burwood added. “It took a great deal of persuading to get him to accept the invitation.”
“And who is Mr. Ford?” Anne asked. The name didn’t sound familiar.
“He was a dear friend of my Uncle Gyles,” Burwood said. “And like Miles, I consider him family.”
“Both are single, Anne,” Honoria said, a gleam in her green eyes. “Although Mr. Ford is too old for you.”
Burwood gave a strangled cough. “Yes. Well, why don’t we all go inside? I’m sure you would like to freshen up from your journey.”
“We received a shipment of fresh spices from India, Burwood, and I brought an assortment for your inspection,” Andrew said.
“Excellent. Supplies are dwindling from the last you sent. Things are beginning to taste rather bland.”
Andrew laughed and patted Burwood on the back.
Honoria led everyone into the house. “Alice, I’m so happy you brought the girls. My nieces are here, and Cassandra is the same age as Indira and Eleanor. My niece Elinor is a little younger, but I expect they will all become fast friends.”
Arms locked together, the twins gave a shout of glee and received a stern look from Alice.
“Girls, I expect you to be on your best behavior.”
“Yes, Mama,” Indira said.
“Two Eleanors?” Anne asked. “That will be confusing.”
“We call Colin’s daughter Ellie, if that helps.” Burwood’s voice came from behind.
Four young girls with their whole lives ahead of them. Not so long ago, Anne had been exuberant about life and the many promises of excitement and love that waited. But at that moment . . . well, she pushed the unpleasant thought aside. She would think about it tomorrow, if at all.
After a footman brought the trunks to their rooms and Anne had refreshed herself, she wandered around the enormous house and peeked into empty rooms. Where was everyone?
Soft giggles rose from the direction of the ballroom. Without the amber glow of candlelight and the glitter of crystal chandelier bobs, the room appeared forlorn, except for the two girls spinning in circles across the dance floor.
Indira stopped short, catching sight of her. “Aunt Anne!”
Anne pressed her lips together tightly to restrain her smile and summoned her sternest voice. “Did you ask permission to be in here?”
Eleanor cast a glance at her sister, her eyes widening. “You said they wouldn’t mind.”
“You were the one to open the door,” Indira shot back.
Unable to suppress her chuckle, Anne joined her twin nieces in the center of the room. “I’m sure it will be fine. However, you should have asked the duchess or your father. Your half-boots are scuffing the floor. Ballrooms require shoes with soft soles.”
“Will there be a ball?” The dreamy look in Eleanor’s eyes reminded Anne of her own dreams.
“Perhaps. But at nine, you’re too young to attend.”
“I can’t wait to be old like you, Aunt Anne.” Indira’s pronouncement did nothing to restore Anne’s already diminishing confidence.
“Well, before you are ready to resign yourself to the throes of spinsterhood, enjoy your youth while you have it. But”—she held up a finger—“outside of the ballroom.” She shooed the girls out of the room.
“The duchess said there are other girls. Where are they?” Eleanor asked.
“Let’s find out,” Anne said. “First one to find an adult wins an extra slice of cake at supper.”
Indira squinted her blue eyes. “You’re an adult.”
“I mean someone who might know where the other girls are. Now, scoot.”
The girls raced off, with Indira running up to the third-floor bedrooms, and Eleanor skipping down the hallway.
Stripes of sunlight broke into the ballroom from the French doors leading to the terrace.
The same terrace where she had released Drake from his perceived obligation toward her and freed him to pursue Honoria.
Sucking in a breath, she pushed the unpleasant memory aside and wandered across the ballroom.
She interrupted her trajectory with a few graceful twirls of her own.
Her half-boots created several more scuffs, and she pressed her lips together to withhold a giggle at her blatant disregard of the reprimand she’d just given the girls.
Scents of jasmine and honeysuckle wafted in on the warm breeze when she opened the doors. With another deep breath, she filled her lungs with the fragrance and strode forward.
Like the rooms she’d peered into earlier, the terrace and surrounding gardens also appeared deserted.
Where was everyone?
Ready to turn around and go back inside, Anne stopped when movement from below the terrace caught her attention. The top of a head poked over a high-backed chair, and sunlight gleamed on the occupant’s red hair.
An extra piece of cake awaited in her future.
Careful not to make a noise, she padded down the terrace’s stone steps. She’d always enjoyed sneaking up on Andrew, and if she scared him . . . it would serve him right for forcing the subject of marriage.
Mere feet from him, Anne clapped her hands as loud as she could. “There you are! Don’t think you can hide from me!”
Andrew’s hands flew out to the sides, and he rose from the chair.
Something was . . . off. Had Andrew grown half a foot?
He turned, the handsome, scowling face—not Andrew’s.