Chapter Four #2
“They met yesterday.” Edward slowly, almost painstakingly, raised an eyebrow. “Are you scandalized?” A single corner of his mouth twitched upward.
“I am not certain I can spend any further time with you, Edward Downy. Your family seems to be a bad influence.”
He leaned a bit closer and said, his voice a little lowered, “Next thing you know, I will be convincing you to tell our hostess she looks poorly and then offer to stir her tea.”
“When I say things like that, my family looks at me as if I’m entirely mad. I cannot tell you how nice it is to meet someone who recognizes that I’m not only not serious about these things, but that it is actually a little funny.”
He smiled broadly and motioned her toward the spot where his brother was setting up their game of quoits.
“Are your quoits skills equally funny?”
She grinned. “Oh, they’re hilarious.”
“In other words, you aren’t likely to be selected by Mrs. Warrick based on your upcoming performance.”
She shrugged. “Unless she means to select an heir out of pity.”
“Shh!” He looked around, an air of furtive worry on his face. “If anyone overhears, this house party will become an unending exercise in competitive sympathy.”
“I’d much rather engage in competitive ring tossing.” They had reached Tom and Henrietta. “Who goes first?”
Though Tom and Henrietta were clearly quite anxious to make a good showing, the game proceeded with a great deal of laughter and happy jesting.
Edward was as lighthearted as she’d come to expect, enjoying the game without the least worry what their hosts or the other guests might think.
Her dry humor was met, not with confusion and scolds, but with smiles and chuckles and humor of his own.
For the first time in memory she didn’t feel quite so alone and misunderstood. She’d never truly been unhappy, but in his company she was something more than that. She felt more herself than she had in years, perhaps ever.
Henrietta tossed her rope ring, and it slipped perfectly onto the stake.
“Excellent,” Tom declared. “I do believe you are going to win this round handily.”
Henrietta beamed at him. “The game does seem to be turning in my favor.”
His gaze was every bit as besotted as hers. These two might not have known one another long, but their feelings were unmistakable.
“It was, indeed, a well-executed toss.” Mrs. Warrick arrived on the scene. “You have a knack for quoits, Miss Sumner.”
Henrietta colored up on the instant, and her tongue immediately tied itself in knots. She managed little beyond a nod and an incoherent muttering of what sounded vaguely like thankful agreement.
Tom came to the rescue. “She has won most of the rounds.”
Mrs. Warrick looked impressed. If she really did mean to choose a successor based on that person’s ability to play a child’s lawn game, then this house party was even more of a farce than Agatha had believed.
“What of the Downy brothers?” their hostess asked. “Have you two made a good showing for yourselves?”
Edward answered on behalf of both of them. “Tom has won the few rounds Miss Sumner has not. I, on the other hand, have shown myself to be every bit as inept at this particular game as ever I was.”
Mrs. Warrick turned her gaze on Agatha. She looked her up and down, her gaze resting on Agatha’s head. “I will assume based on your rope ring’s current location—on the top of your head—that this is not a game you are particularly skilled at, either.”
“Oh, but I am,” Agatha insisted. “I found my aim is not particularly good when I am attempting to toss the ring onto that stake over there, but I am quite adept at getting the ring onto my own head. I am remarkably skilled at my version of quoits. I successfully ring my target every time.”
Mrs. Warrick’s white brows pulled in even as her wrinkled lips turned downward. “You are an odd sort of young lady, Miss Holmwood.”
“Thank you very much,” she answered with a bright smile.
Mrs. Warrick eyed her with the same confused expression Agatha’s father so often wore. Edward, on the other hand, was clearly holding back a grin.
Their hostess managed to blink away her bewilderment and addressed Henrietta once more. “I will not further interrupt your game. Once again, well done. It is a joy to see another lady on this estate do well at this game. It has been too many years.”
With that, she flounced away, leaving behind a wide-eyed Henrietta, a hopeful Tom, a clearly amused Edward, and a silently annoyed Agatha.
“Do you think she meant that?” Henrietta quietly asked. “Was she truly impressed do you suppose?”
“I believe so,” Tom eagerly answered. “She will remember you, I am certain of that.”
Henrietta took a shaky breath. “I shouldn’t allow myself to hope this much, but being chosen would be an answer to prayers.
” She looked at each of them in turn, embarrassment heating her cheeks.
“My father is not very good at managing his money or estate. We’ve been forced to greatly retrench these past years.
We are living in the dower house on our family estate because we need the rent that comes from letting the main house.
There is no money for dowries or trips to Bath, let alone London.
This is the only social event I have ever or likely will ever be invited to, and if something doesn’t improve our situation—something like this bequest—things will only grow worse. I don’t know what else to do.”
Emotion broke the poor young lady’s words. Tom took her hands in his. “You are doing the best you can,” he insisted. “That is all you can expect of yourself.”
Henrietta nodded, even as a lone tear escaped the corner of her eye. Tom offered her a handkerchief.
Agatha met Edward’s eye. In his look of commiseration, she saw the same sad frustration she felt. Everyone at this party needed what the Warricks were so callously dangling in front of them.
This game their hosts were playing with everyone’s futures was truly cruel.