Chapter Eight #3
“And we could ask Mr. Moreau to pack a basket for Miss Millthorpe,” Miss Pansy said.
“I would be happy to chop wood, if she runs low,” Burkhart said.
“I, of course, would chop a large pile of wood for the lady,” Lelander said.
Everyone at table ignored that comment and Burkhart began to get the feeling that perhaps they were all tiring of the bickering and one upmanship between he and Lelander.
“They do not go far, I really feel it will be perfectly safe, Papa,” Lady Smythesdon said.
“Entirely safe,” Lady Hemmings said. “After all, did not Lord Burkhart lead the rescue through the snow and get Pansy home safe yesterday, and then Mr. Lelander save Poppy from a fall on the ice?”
“I also trudged through the snow,” Lord Smythesdon said.
“Of course you did, my darling,” Lady Smythesdon said. “It was heroically done.”
“What about you, Lord Montachet?” the viscount said. “There will not be room, I do not think. What will you do with yourself?”
“Quite all right, quite all right,” the baron said hurriedly. “I will entertain myself in the library.”
“I will sanction this excursion,” the viscount said to his daughters, “but only after I’ve spoken with Johns and he understands his duty. Further, you two are to sit on one side together, with the gentlemen in the opposite seats.”
“You are a dear, Papa,” Miss Pansy said.
“Such a dear,” Miss Poppy said.
“What about us?” Teddy asked. “There is a smaller sleigh, the one that carries two people. Certainly we ought to go.”
“No, I will not agree to that,” the viscount said. “We do not wish to overwhelm Miss Millthorpe with two young fellows running roughshod through her cottage.”
Teddy looked surprised to hear it.
“In any case, you have other things to do,” the viscount said.
“Do we?” Teddy asked.
“There is enough snow out there to build your own fort,” the viscount said.
“Our own fort?” Bertie asked, leaning forward in his chair.
“Or something like it,” the viscount said.
“I did it many times in my youth. My advice, use the north side of the stables for one wall, as it will not get too much sun. Get the brick molds from wherever Mr. Tidewater has stored them and get ready to pack down the snow into building blocks. Use a bread knife around the sides of the mold and the brick will fall out ready to build.”
The two boys seemed very interested in these ideas, which Burkhart was grateful for. They were perfectly acceptable boys, but they did need a certain amount of supervision if that bell smashing on his head was any yardstick to measure by.
“Do not build the walls too high, mind,” the viscount said. “They’ll fall over and bury you.”
Both boys nodded enthusiastically, though their mothers seemed to find the idea of their children buried in snow much less appealing.
“Oh, I know,” Teddy said, “Lord Montachet can help us since he has nothing to do.”
“Now you see, Lord Montachet,” Bertie said, “you will not be bored.”
“Hah!” the viscount said. “Capital idea.”
Burkhart did not think the baron considered it a capital idea, though the fellow murmured, “Delighted.”
He sipped his coffee and thought things could not have worked out better.
He was to accompany Miss Pansy on a sleigh ride while the baron would be building a fort in the snow.
That ought to be just the thing to convince the fellow it was time to move on.
If he could only toss Lelander over the side of the sleigh on the way to Miss Millthorpe’s cottage, the situation would be perfection.
Two hours later, they were on their way under the knit brows of Johnny Johns.
That individual had watched carefully as the ladies were handed into the sleigh to ensure that neither of them was sitting next to a gentleman.
Then he’d tucked them in tightly with blankets as if he meant to cut off any means of escape from the current seating arrangement.
After a last glare at both him and Lelander, they set off.
The draught horses pulled them through the snow; the wind was brisk and blew it around their heads in whirlwinds.
That sort of thing would drive his own horse mad, but it did not seem to bother these horses at all.
Further, Miss Pansy was looking very fetching in a dark blue bonnet against the white landscape.
It took them not fifteen minutes to get to the bottom of the drive and follow a narrow lane to Miss Millthorpe’s abode.
The cottage was built of stone with a slate roof, the sort of dwelling that had probably once been thatched.
It would have been standing for a hundred years.
Miss Pansy was out of the sleigh first. She’d been working on her blanket to free herself and stood on the seat and hopped over the side and into the snow without waiting for assistance.
Miss Poppy was hot on her heels and they ran to the door, while Johnny Johns frowned and gathered the basket of supplies gathered from the Hall’s kitchens.
Burkhart got out from his side while Lelander got out the other.
The ladies knocked on the door and waited, but the knock was not answered. They knocked again. Still nothing.
Miss Pansy ran to the window that looked into the parlor. She shielded her eyes and peered in. “I do not see her. There is a chair turned over, though.”
“Oh Pans, what if something has happened to her?” Miss Poppy said.
“What if she fell and broke a bone and she cannot rise to open the door?”
“We can break down the door if it comes to it,” Burkhart said.
Miss Pansy looked a bit frightened over the idea that such a thing might be necessary. Both sisters called out the lady’s name.
Burkhart could hear a scuffling behind the door. The lady opened it and said, “Thank heavens it is you.”
“Who else would it be?” Miss Pansy said.
“You’d better come in,” Miss Millthorpe said.