3. Chapter 3
In the distance, the morning mist rose off the small stream that ran between Hazelwood and Blackthorn.
Javenia ran a hand along the wall between the properties, allowing her fingers to trail over the rough river rock as she followed it to its eventual end.
When she finally reached the break in the wall where the stream traveled through, she stopped.
She didn’t have to wait long.
No more than five minutes later, Algenon stepped out of the mists. How many times had they met this way? Hundreds perhaps.
It began when they were children, an early morning stroll that eventually led them to the property line where they could talk without anyone overhearing them.
When they were little, it had been the perfect setup to escape their nurses.
They were far enough into the grove that no one from their respective houses could see them, yet close enough that they could quickly scamper back if called.
She couldn’t count how many adventures they’d had.
It was here that he’d taught her how to whittle wood, make a blade of grass into a whistle, and skip rocks.
In exchange, she’d taught him about insects and how to deal with people like Duncan, who never again picked on the boys like he had that fateful day so many years ago.
As they’d grown, the meetings had become more sparse, but it was their tradition after one or the other had been gone for an extended amount of time.
She’d looked forward to the tete-a-tetes every time Algenon had returned from Harrow, counting down the hours until they’d see each other again.
Those middle years had been filled with stories about their struggles in school and the growing pressures they felt in pleasing their families.
Now as an adult, the secret meetings had become bittersweet, each one a little less relaxed. Gone were the days that they shared every worry, and while she cherished every time they met, she also wondered if it would be their last.
“Miss Harris.” Algenon raised a brow at her when he came close enough to speak.
She bit back a smile. “Miss Harris, is it?”
“I figured since I am in your black books, you’d rather I not wander into familiarity.”
She pulled her wool shawl tighter about herself and raised her chin as if inspecting the rising sun. “If you’d come begging forgiveness for your neglect, perhaps you wouldn’t still be there.”
“What if I have come to beg?” He clasped his hands behind his back.
“You don’t look very penitent.”
“Would it help if I knelt on the ground and clasped my hands in supplication?”
She smirked. “Yes. I believe that will do.”
His laughter rang off the trees, then he sobered. “How I have missed your wit.”
“Just my wit? Well, then next time you go away, I shall pack it in a box for you so you can take it along. Heavens knows I have no use for it since it goes absent when you’re not around to sharpen it on.”
A robin chirped in the tree, and a cow lowed in the distance. Algenon stepped closer to the wall, a broad smile on his face, but Javenia did not move. Her admission was as close as she’d ever get to telling him how miserable she was when he was gone.
“How about you keep your wit, Javenia? That way, I always have something to look forward to when I return home.”
She bit the inside of her lip as she pushed down the surge of longing that threatened to overtake her good sense.
“How was your time in Ipswich?”
Algenon followed her change in subject without question. “Long and dismal. I would have been home before now, but I had to find a replacement for the steward there. It seems the previous man had a way of making money disappear into the pockets of his kin.”
“How crooked. Did you arrest him for stealing?”
Algenon leaned on the edge of the wall, his arms crossed.
“No, because, in truth, he stole nothing. He simply hired his family to come in and do work, which they did poorly or hardly at all, and then paid them far more than their labor was worth. It was a mess. I had to have the brickwork of an entire wall redone because his cousin used mud instead of mortar.”
Javenia clucked her tongue while shaking her head. “No wonder you were gone so long. And was everything resolved by the time you left, or will you have to return?”
“I hope not. The new man comes highly recommended for his honesty. With Parliament about to begin, I need to be in London. Not that I can vote in my father’s place, but I’d like to be present to hear what is being discussed, since he rarely attends.”
She nodded in agreement. Algenon was a man of honor. He took his position as a future baron seriously, knowing that his wealth and privilege could bless the lives of those less fortunate if he pressed for the right reforms.
Reforms his father found ludicrous.
She pursed her lips, trying not to utter the bitter words she’d only allowed herself to voice a handful of times over the years. Lord Roberts was a nuisance, but he was still Algenon’s father and, for some reason, Algenon still respected his authority… even if he complained about it now and then.
He crossed his feet to match his arms. “How have things been here in Kent?”
Dreadful was the word that came to her mind, but she’d not give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d been so desperately missed. Instead, she launched into an update on their friends’ health and happiness.
“John has begun a new painting.” She broke off the end of a reed near the bank of the stream and inspected its hollow middle.
Algenon pushed away from the wall. “Another one of his wife?”
She smiled to herself. Susannah was John’s usual muse, but this one was different. “No. Of the Kendalls. It’s a wedding gift like the one he painted for Nate and Melior.”
Algenon followed her lead and picked his own reed. “How are Eddie and his lady love?”
“Sickeningly happy. I see little of them outside my weekly visits, but if you had told me that Livy was capable of looking awestruck at anyone, I’d have thought you half mad.”
He met her pronouncement with a chuckle. “It is strange, but everyone needs someone who balances them out.”
“Indeed. Mr. Kendall’s happy, gentle nature has done wonders at lightening Livy’s heavy spirits. Not that she is any less fierce than she has always been, but she seems more relaxed in her own home.”
Algenon broke his reed into two, his gaze pensive.
She could only imagine what he was pondering.
For herself, the reminder that everyone needed an opposite, someone who complemented their own flaws, was a palpable reminder that she and Algenon were far too similar for a healthy relationship to even be attempted…
even if they were free to pursue such an endeavor.
“Why do you still call him Mr. Kendall?”
The question surprised her. “Because we did not grow up together as you and I did.”
“I suppose.” Algenon drew out the words. “But if I recall, I introduced you to him when we were still quite young. One would think after a dozen years of friendship, you’d both forgo the formalities in private.”
Javenia brought the reed up to her eye and looked through it at the tops of the trees. When they were little, they used to pretend the hollow sticks were spy glasses. Did Algenon remember that?
“Are you going to answer my question?” He stepped up close to her side.
“I do not believe there was a question in your statement, only an observation.”
He looked sidelong at her, the set of his mouth making it clear he had not fallen for her diversion tactic. But what could she say? She had kept a certain amount of distance between her and Eddie. Not that Eddie had ever noticed—at least, she didn’t think he had.
“It is only proper, you know.” She lowered her reed and set to inspecting it like it somehow held all the answers to her troubles. “Frankly, I should be addressing all of you formally. We are children no longer.”
“Better not.” He tossed his pieces of reed into the water and watched them float down the stream. “I might think I’m always in the suds with you.”
She grinned. “Are you not?”
He chuckled. “More or less.”
Silence settled between them as they listened to the hum of morning life around them. Relief washed over her at having successfully dodged his question. Painful memories were better kept in the past where they belonged.
Algenon kicked at a rock and it skittered into the water. “Nate sent word that he plans to call this morning. His note was quite cryptic, but I have great hope that he brings good news.”
“Good news? Of what variety?”
“The kind that brings hope for the future.” He looked at her pointedly.
Her eyebrows pulled together as she sent her reed after Algenon’s down the stream. “What sort of future hope? Are they planning on expanding their estate or is this simply an elaborate way to say they have an extensive schedule planned for this season?”
“Neither, especially since I received a letter weeks ago saying they will not be traveling to London this year.”
A pit formed in Javenia’s stomach. She had depended on Nate’s wife, Melior, to be her one anchor in another season of disappointments.
Especially since their friend Livy had already declared her intentions to stay in Maidstone to enjoy her new house and gardens.
Why had Melior not mentioned it when she had visited her last week?
John and his wife would be in Town, but it wasn’t the same. They often kept to themselves for weeks at a time, and while she could visit them, they wouldn’t be partaking in the social whirl to the extent that her father expected her to.
A gentle touch to her arm brought her eyes to Algenon’s. The compassion there pricked at her heart and chipped away at her resolve to keep her distance.
“Are you well? You look as if I’ve just delivered a blow to your head.”
“Not my head. My heart. I depended on Melior’s attendance this season. Who else will be my voice of reason in a room of chaos?”