Chapter Five #2
She admitted to being fond of playing the pianoforte and had promised to play after dinner. He admitted liking to listen to someone playing the pianoforte.
They found they had a common acquaintance in Mrs. Dallway.
He knew the lady as a regular fixture in York where she stayed with a niece.
Miss Pansy knew her as a close family friend with an estate nearby.
They both agreed there was never any telling when she might turn up in either place.
In York, they called her Lady Apparition for her ability to suddenly appear when least expected.
Miss Pansy Granger was so superior to anybody he had encountered at home.
She was at once feminine, and sporting, and definite in her opinions.
He did not know with any certainty where things would lead, but he was confident she would be admired at any gentleman’s table. She would make a fine countess.
The ladies had been led out of the dining room by the viscountess, who very kindly took Bertie and Teddy too. The boys’ grandmother had likely realized that there was only so long anybody wished to listen to their argument over horses.
“Well now,” the viscount said, setting down his port, “precisely how close are your estates to one another?”
“Six miles,” Lelander said.
“More like six and one-half miles,” Burkhart said.
“I wish it were seven miles,” Lelander said. “Or a thousand.”
“Hah!” the viscount said. “I thought to make general conversation but even the distance is an argument. Well, I suppose your fathers manage the thing with more sense.”
Burkhart did not respond. He noticed Lelander did not either. The earl and the viscount might greet one another if necessary, but the greeting was frigid on both sides.
He was rather stung by the viscount implying that the frostiness was not good form. Especially this viscount, who had already expressed his disdain for foreign counties. It seemed a double standard.
But then, when it came to eccentric Englishmen, it was not strictly necessary that opinions lined up in any sensible manner.
“No doubt, no doubt,” Smythesdon said, rather unconvincingly.
“The viscount and the earl are cordial,” Lelander said.
“The earl views it as a painful courtesy,” he said.
“Perhaps I misspoke,” Lelander said. “I would better describe it as the viscount displays a mastery of his violent feelings.”
“The viscount cannot possibly feel as violently as the earl.”
“The viscount’s feelings are notoriously violent.”
“The earl gets actual megrims just thinking of it.”
“The viscount has had apoplexy when the earl’s name has been mentioned.”
“Right!” Smythesdon said. “Perhaps we have gone down that road far enough.”
“I’ll say,” Hemmings muttered.
“This just proves the point I’ve made for forty years,” the viscount said. “One can never really know what goes on in foreign counties.”
And with those words of wisdom, the gentlemen proceeded into the drawing room.
Poppy had followed Daisy to the pianoforte, making a show of helping Pansy choose music. Violet, the viscountess, and Maribelle were counseling Bertie and Teddy about arguing about nonsense at the dining table.
As might be expected, Violet was more sympathetic to Bertie’s side, Maribelle was more sympathetic to Teddy’s side, and the viscountess was sensibly not sympathetic to either of them.
“I did ask Lord Burkhart if there were a way to move past this feud between their two houses,” Pansy said. “He claimed it would be possible, if the inhabitants of Pepperdon Hall would not act so superior.”
“I do not think Mr. Lelander acts superior though,” Poppy said. “He is a sophisticated gentleman and that would be beneath him. He says that Lord Burkhart is a sore loser.”
“A sore loser!” Pansy said.
“Goodness, do not you two begin an argument over it,” Daisy said. We are trying to think of a way to get them both past it, not expand it into our own family.”
Poppy and Pansy looked at one another. That was true.
Poppy had felt a rather instant reaction to the idea that Mr. Lelander had been in any way at fault.
She could see that Pansy had a similar reaction to anything against Lord Burkhart.
They must not allow the gentlemen’s argument to become their own.
For one thing, it would be quite ridiculous. Neither of them were Yorkists or Lancastrians. For another thing, they had never allowed anything serious to come between them.
“Has not Violet thought of anything yet?” Poppy asked. They’d all been counting on their smartest sister to think something up.
“It does not seem so,” Daisy said. “But then, I thought perhaps the proximity to one another here will ease things between them. At some point.”
“Perhaps it will,” Poppy said, encouraged that there was at least an idea.
“I am to ride out with Lord Burkhart on the morrow,” Pansy said. “Perhaps if both Poppy and I keep questioning the sense of holding such a long grudge, it will work. At some point.”
Poppy nodded her agreement. “I am to show Mr. Lelander the library on the morrow. He is exceedingly interested in the libraries of other estates. I don’t yet know if he favors the sort of books I like. Romantic, is what I mean.”
“Most gentlemen do not, is my impression,” Pansy said.
“Except my dear Hemmings,” Daisy said. “He adores them and he reads to me in bed. It is very romantic.”
“Gracious, that is romantic,” Poppy said.
“Show him what you’re reading now and see what he says about it,” Pansy advised.
“I wonder what they are talking about over port,” Poppy said.
Daisy giggled. “Whatever it is, I know Hemmings and Lord Smythesdon will do what they can to keep Papa off the subject of the scuffle between the Plantagenets.”
“Dear Papa,” Poppy murmured.
“Dear, dear, Papa,” Pansy said.
They did not have to wait too much longer for the gentlemen. Lord Hemmings looked rather wide-eyed, so Poppy felt as if the Plantagenet scuffle might had surfaced again.
She and Daisy drifted away from the pianoforte as they noted Lord Burkhart head in that direction. That would leave him the opportunity to turn the pages for Pansy.
Poppy was very encouraged to note which direction Mr. Lelander drifted, which was her own direction. “Shall I show you the warmest spot in the house, Mr. Lelander?”
“Indeed,” he said. “It really is rather…cool.”
“It is downright cold,” she said laughing, “there is no other way to describe it.”
She led him to the south corner of the hearth, known by everyone who lived in the house to be the warmest spot. There was no telling why it was, perhaps it was a slight angle on the fireback, but once the fire screen was set just so, it approached near comfortable.
As it was the warmest, Poppy thought it perfectly acceptable to sit next to Mr. Lelander, rather than across.
“Ah yes,” he said, “there is a distinct amount of warmth in this spot. I wonder though, ought I not move so another lady might sit here?”
“No, no,” Poppy said hurriedly. “My mother and my sisters prefer to use the fur throws.”
Pansy had begun to play. Mr. Lelander said, “Do you play as well, Miss Poppy?”
She nodded. “I do, but not as well as Pansy.”
“Well I am certain there are many other things that find you excelling.”
“You are very kind to say so. I do like to sketch and paint. I often sketch the back garden when the weather is fine.” She pointed to a watercolor on the wall that was a depiction of the fountain and the flowers that grew round it. “That is one of mine.”
“That is very fine. Perhaps after you have shown me the library on the morrow, I may see the back garden too. I can judge the likeness.”
“Would you really judge it?” Poppy said laughing.
“No, of course I would not,” Mr. Lelander said. “It just sounded like a good reason to go to the garden.”
“Perhaps a reason is not necessary,” Poppy said. “We can just go because we wish to. It will be in view of the house, so I am sure I do not need a duenna for it. Do you play piquet, Mr. Lelander?”
“A bit,” he said. “My father adores it. I suppose you play often with Miss Pansy.”
“Goodness, no. Pansy says piquet makes her head hurt. I play with my papa if he does not prefer to nap after dinner.”
“I enjoy it, but your sister might be on to something. I have found my head hurting on occasion."
“You will be glad my sister Lily is not here then,” Poppy said. “Her sinkings have led to card-playing tragedy for anybody attempting to defeat her.”
“It seems we have much to do on the morrow,” Mr. Lelander said. “First the library, then the garden, and then piquet.”
Yes, they did have a lot to do on the morrow. It was very satisfactory.
“I hope Burkhart is not intending on following us around.”
“I believe he has made arrangements to ride out with Pansy,” Poppy said. “Do tell me if you would prefer to ride.”
“Certainly not. I am quite looking forward to the library.”
“Oh, also, I could ask the footmen to bring Lily’s puzzle down from the attics. She designed it herself and each piece is the size of my palm. It covers the entirety of the long table in the library. I will not tell you what picture it turns into when solved, as that would spoil the surprise.”
“You are full of surprises, Miss Poppy Granger.”
“Am I?” she asked. She was certain she was red in the face. If asked, she would vehemently claim it was the heat of the fire.
“I think so,” Mr. Lelander said. “I never thought Lady Ainsworth coming to visit my mother would lead me here, to such genial circumstances.”
“Oh, Lady Ainsworth, Lord Smythesdon’s mother. Gracious, I remember her coming here when he broke his leg.”
“My mother has mentioned that event several times, especially when she understood I was coming here. She wished me to vow not to mount any of Chemsworth’s horses.”
“She need not fear for your safety,” Poppy said. “That horse, The Turk, is at Pendleton Park with Marigold. Even if he were here, it would not have mattered. After Lord Smythesdon’s accident, Marigold positively threatened visitors’ lives about staying off her horse.”
“Is he really that dangerous?”