Chapter Six
Agatha sat beside Mrs. Warrick at another interminable early-afternoon tea.
The past week of teas had seen little conversation beyond inconsequential topics and an unending stream of compliments directed at one—and only one—member of the party.
Another week of this nonsense, and Agatha would lose her mind.
“You seemed quite a disappointment at first,” Mrs. Warrick said between watercress sandwiches. “But I like what I’ve seen this last week.” She pointed at Agatha with her teaspoon. “You are showing promise.”
“At last.” Agatha didn’t catch herself before making the dry response. She pasted on a smile and corrected her tone to an appropriately grateful one. “You are so kind to say so.”
“Yes,” Mrs. Warrick said sweetly. “Yes, I am.”
Good heavens, Agatha couldn’t keep up this charade much longer. But her father kept a close eye on her, asking the other ladies about their teas and watching her every move when the entire party was together.
She found she couldn’t be entirely angry with him—not really.
He seemed more panicked than greedy. The fear she saw in his eyes spoke of desperation, and she knew perfectly well what that level of anxiety did to a person.
It overrode reason and, too often, compassion.
The look on his face over the past few days reminded her that his threat to toss her out of the family might not be an idle one.
Mrs. Warrick set her teacup down and squared her shoulders, looking over them all. Agatha had come to know that look and posture well: their hostess had an announcement.
“You will all be pleased to know that Mr. Warrick and I have planned an activity for this afternoon.”
The expected oohs and aahs and expressions of eager anticipation filled the gap Mrs. Warrick always inserted between her declarations and the more detailed explanations that followed. Agatha offered a smile; it was the closest to fawning she could force herself to come.
Mrs. Warrick folded her hands on her lap, her smile one of pointed magnanimousness.
“Mr. Warrick and I first made one another’s acquaintance at a house party whilst participating in a gathering game.
Each team was given a list of items, each list being identical, and a time limit was set.
During the time allotted, the teams were charged with gathering as many items as they could.
The team that returned with the most items was declared the winner and received a prize. ”
Even Agatha had to admit that the game sounded quite diverting, depending, of course, on what the items were and with whom a person was partnered.
“We mean to recreate that long-ago hunt,” Mrs. Warrick said. “Each of you has been paired with one of the gentlemen. Those of you who are married were, of course, matched with your husbands.”
The necessary smiles and light laughs were offered in acknowledgment of Mrs. Warrick’s attempt at humor.
“The gentlemen have already been informed,” she continued. “They have also been given the names of their partners and have been instructed to come seek you out.” A knock on the door brought a conspiratorial grin to Mrs. Warrick’s face. “I suppose that might be the gentlemen now.”
It was, indeed. A well-timed, likely rehearsed bit of pageantry. The gentlemen sought out their assigned partners, some with sincere pleasure, others with forced expression of delight on the part of both participants.
Agatha’s gaze sought out and quickly found Edward, entering at the back of the group of gentlemen, his brother at his side.
Tom said something. Edward grinned. A feeling akin to relief washed over her at the sight.
He was a happy person and modest and kind.
The perfect antidote to the thinly veiled pompousness she had endured nearly every waking moment of the past seven days.
She held her breath, wondering with whom Edward had been paired. There was no denying she deeply hoped she had been selected for that role, but she braced herself for disappointment.
“Do not fret,” Mrs. Warrick said. “We have partnered you with a young gentleman who has caught our attention as much as you have these past days. You will, we are quite certain, make a perfect team.”
Oh, dear.
But it was, indeed, Edward who approached her. Without a word, he held up a piece of paper with Miss Agatha Holmwood scrawled across it.
Mrs. Warrick’s brows pulled low, her mouth turned down in confusion. “There must be an error. Mr. Thomas Downy was meant to have—”
“Begging your pardon, ma’am,” Edward said, his tone pleasant and patient, “but this is the paper I have been given, and it would be terribly ungentlemanly of me to be anything but utterly charmed with my good fortune.”
Mrs. Warrick’s almost frantic gaze slid over the crowd, settling on, if Agatha didn’t miss her mark, Thomas Downy. “Miss Sumner? No, she was meant to have been your partner.”
Edward offered a commiserating look. “He did not seem at all displeased with the arrangement, just as I am not the least bit disappointed. All will be well, Mrs. Warrick. I assure you.”
“But—”
“Miss Holmwood, I hope you will forgive my eagerness,” Edward said, eyeing her with an expression that was just a bit too serious. “I very much wish to emerge victorious in today’s challenge and, as such, feel a certain earnestness to begin quickly.”
“Indeed. We had best not waste a single moment.”
He held his hand out to her, and she set hers inside it.
A warmth she’d not felt before trickled through her at that simple touch.
It was more than the relief at being free of Mrs. Warrick’s demanding company for an afternoon, more than the pleasure of being paid a bit of attention by a handsome gentleman.
It was Edward. Edward, himself. He had found a place in her heart and had claimed it as his own.
His presence filled that place once more, filled it with hope and reassurance and tenderness of feeling.
He led her away from their slightly agape hostess and directly to the corridor.
She lowered her voice and asked, “Was my name the one you were truly given?”
“My paper originally read Miss Henrietta Sumner, which I am absolutely certain was due to a grave error on someone’s part.” He threaded her arm through his. “Tom was the victim of a similar mistake. We, however, sorted it out nicely.”
She felt herself relax for the first time in a week. “I’ve hardly seen you these past days. Mrs. Warrick has begun to suspect that I am not as undesirable a person as she first believed and, as a result, I can’t ever seem to be free of her company.”
“Well, in the week since I decided to begin making an effort, I have seen increasingly less of our host. It seems he is not impressed.” Though Edward spoke somberly, a laugh hovered just below the surface.
“What a blow to your pride, Edward.” She patted his arm.
“Yes. I’m utterly devastated.” He led her through the terrace doors and down the stairs to the garden. “Now. Let us find a place to sit where we can look over our list.”
“You intend to participate in this hunt?”
His gaze met hers and, though he didn’t look any less merry than usual, his expression was undeniably sincere. “Your father will demand an accounting of you. I will not be the reason you are scolded again. Or worse.”
She knew her attempt at a smile fell a bit short. “He grows more frantic with each passing day. I believe there is little hope of avoiding the ‘or worse’ outcome.”
He took her hand in his and raised it to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to the back of her hand. “We will do our best today and hope that his good sense wins out in the end.”
They sat on a bench situated beneath the boughs of a greenwood tree on a small path in the garden. He pulled a folded sheet of paper from his coat pocket and opened it. Agatha leaned her head against his shoulder and simply breathed. With him, she felt less burdened, less worried.
“The list is not terribly long, but it is decidedly odd.”
“Fitting,” Agatha said.
He chuckled quietly. “We are charged with gathering, amongst other equally confusing items, ‘the first arrival of morning’ and ‘that which runs but does not walk, has a mouth but does not talk.’”
“So long as this challenge is straightforward,” she said dryly.
“And we have until five o’clock this evening to bring these simple and, no doubt, easily obtained items to the drawing room.”
“What shall we do with all the extra time we will certainly have?”
He shifted the list into one hand and took hold of hers with the other. It was the most natural position in the world to sit with their hands clasped, her head resting against him.
“‘The first arrival of morning.’ What do you suppose that means?” he asked.
“If one is wealthy enough, the first arrival of morning might be the chambermaid stoking the fire.” She had heard that those with a substantial income never had to awaken in a cold room.
“I, for one, cannot countenance the idea of pulling one of the overworked servants away from her duties for the sake of this game, can you?”
“Not at all.” She sat up more fully. “Perhaps we could come back to that riddle.”
At that exact moment, Tom and Henrietta hurried past. They stopped long enough for Tom to toss a challenge to his brother. “We’ve solved one of the riddles. You’d best hurry if you’re to catch us.”
“Or you could tell us the answer,” Edward suggested with a grin.
Tom only laughed. The happy couple continued on their way.
“They seem well suited,” Agatha said, watching them disappear through the gate at the far end of the garden.
“Extremely well suited. I have spent some time the past couple of days getting to know Miss Sumner better, and I cannot imagine someone with whom my brother would be happier. And I firmly believe a life with him would bring her great happiness as well.”
“Then why do you sound so downtrodden when you speak of them?” She could not mistake the sadness in his tone.