Chapter 19
On the morning of their intended excursion to Hampstead, Camilla heard the sounds of wind blowing as soon as she woke up.
She hurried out of bed and went to open the curtains.
What she saw there did not make her optimistic for their picnic, for the sky was light gray without being overcast. However, there were no black clouds on the horizon that promised rain, and when she opened the window she found the air temperate. She would hope for the best.
After an early breakfast, she and Tilly went out into the narrow parcel of land that lay in the back of their house to see if they could gain a better idea of the weather.
Their garden was unkempt, and none of them had been industrious enough to hire a gardener to come and put it to order.
Without Dorothea living here, she was not sure if they ever would.
“What do you think?” Tilly asked anxiously. She particularly hoped their picnic would be held.
A steady wind shook the branches of the two small trees in their yard; the air filled Camilla’s nostrils and sent the loose strands of hair flying from her uncovered head. She closed her eyes and breathed in. The sensation was delicious.
“Camilla?”
She blinked. “I cannot say. But I do not think it is very strong, do you?”
Tilly looked doubtful. A gust of wind liberated the summer blossoms and sent dry leaves scurrying as the tree branches shuddered.
Camilla took her arm. “Let us go in and see what Joanna and Evo think. Mama will allow us to go if Felix and Sophia do. I hope they will come.”
When Evo heard about Tilly’s concerns, he scoffed and said that a little wind was not going to stop him from his amusement.
When no note arrived by messenger to announce the picnic was canceled, they piled into the earl’s carriage at the appointed time.
The coach would take the four of them including Evo, Lady Poole having made it abundantly clear that he would not ride the distance.
Not when it required going through the metropolis.
“Besides,” she added prosaically, “I will need you to care for your sisters and to see they come to no harm.”
Such a plan was not likely to appeal to Evo, but he evidently held out little hope his arguments would be heard, for he made none.
Mr. Weatherby’s invitation proposed they meet at ten o’clock on the spacious avenue where Langham met Portland Place.
From there, they would travel to Hampstead.
When they arrived at the meeting point, she opened the window and searched for a glimpse of Sophia and Felix, although Tilly protested at the wind that whipped the ribbons on her bonnet.
Camilla spotted Sophia, relieved that they had indeed come, and waved.
Her eyes next lit upon Lord Pembroke’s crested carriage and was surprised he had not chosen to ride.
Perhaps he had been deterred by the wind, although she easily found both Mr. Weatherby and Mr. Wilmot on horseback.
In the next instant Pembroke’s horse obstructed her view by pulling up alongside their carriage.
He held out his hand to her, and Camilla did not have much choice but to reach hers out and place it in his as he leaned down to greet everyone in the carriage.
“It is windy, but it shall not spoil our fun.” He brought his direct regard to her.
“Will it, Lady Camilla? Particularly since you enjoy the wind.” To her indignation—and pleasure—he squeezed her hand before letting it go.
She did not answer him, though she stored away for later her pleasure at learning he had remembered that fact about her.
He did not like the wind, she remembered.
“Who is riding in your carriage, Pembroke?” Joanna called out from next to Camilla. “And where are your matched bays?”
“My sister, her husband, and the twins are joining us. Weatherby assured us his grandmother was sincere in opening her house to a large party.” He responded in a neutral voice, but Camilla suspected he was not quite pleased his sister had come.
“And your pair?” Joanna insisted.
“Sold ’em,” he replied, the look in his eyes a blend of mystery and ruefulness.
“Oh no! How could you do it?” Joanna exclaimed. “I have never seen a more beautiful set. How could you bear to part with them?”
“Needs must,” he said and tipped his hat before riding away.
Camilla knit her brows, wondering what could have caused him to do such a thing.
She knew he was particular about his stable, as was Miles, and would never sell such prime horseflesh willingly.
Was he in financial difficulty? Joanna continued to exclaim about the poor decision, while Tilly asked what was so famous about them.
Joanna went into detail about their forward motion and beautifully lifted legs.
Evo chimed in, and as he and Joanna began to argue over what made a fine carriage horse, Camilla turned her thoughts to what the day would hold. Would Mr. Weatherby be as attached to Miss Winkley as he seemed to be before? Would Pembroke seek her out the way he had been doing lately?
The wind made itself felt in their ride, sometimes causing the body of their carriage to sway.
Camilla, delighted by the wind and—despite herself—the prospect of a day spent in Pembroke’s company, watched the riders alongside their motley progression of carriages as they traveled north.
Mr. Weatherby eventually removed his hat and tucked it firmly at his side.
Pembroke’s was not so tall and he kept his firmly on his head.
They came to the last turnpike before continuing on a scenic road whose rows of linden trees shielded them from the wind.
At the clearing, a meadow dotted with sheep met their view, and Tilly exclaimed over it, while Evo pointed out the massive cedar tree growing on a hillside in the distance.
The gray sky had lightened, although the sun was still hidden.
As they neared Beechcroft, they left the main road and turned onto a smaller, meandering path with hedgerows on either side.
This led to an open wrought iron gate that stood taller than the stone walls of the property and they passed through it.
From there, another shaded alley flanked by beech trees deposited the party at Beechcroft, a mellow Palladian house of a comfortable size, whose charming picture made a perfect end to their journey.
As the cavalcade of carriages and riders stopped in front of the stone house, liveried servants exited from the front, where they must have been standing inside in expectation.
Some went to the horses’ heads, ready to lead them away to the stables, and others helped the ladies out of the carriages.
With an unhindered view of all of the guests, Camilla at last spotted Bernice.
Beside her stood Abigail and her husband, Miss Winkley, and a boy who must have been her younger brother. She and Bernice smiled at each other.
“What is Miss Winkley’s brother’s name?” Camilla asked her.
“Freddie. He is fourteen, so I think younger than Evo.”
Bernice turned as Mrs. Cranwell came out to greet the arrivals, accompanied by a family with a young girl, and a boy who looked to be about Evo’s age.
Camilla guessed they belonged to Mr. Weatherby’s brother.
Mrs. Cranwell’s large lace cap was tied firmly under her chin, resisting all attempts by the stiff breeze to yank it off.
With a head of perfectly white hair, she might have seemed ancient, but her sparkling eyes dismissed the notion.
Her voice was vigorous as she welcomed them.
“Come inside, everyone, to where I have laid out the refreshments. There you may recover from your journey. After that, I am sure you will find something outdoors to occupy you, as young people like to do.” She kept up a steady stream of chatter without going through formal introductions, explaining that she had prepared indoor amusements if the weather should be inclement, but as it was a mere breeze, was sure they would far prefer the outdoors as indeed was only natural.
Mr. Weatherby went to greet his grandmother and his brother, and Camilla noted the resemblance between all three. Bernice came to her side as they walked indoors.
“Mr. Pollard tells me the other gentleman is Mr. John Weatherby,” Bernice said. “He is Sam Weatherby’s elder brother, and that is his family.”
“I guessed as much. I did not see Mr. Pollard riding with the others.” In the entranceway, Camilla untied her bonnet and removed her gloves.
The gloves she slipped into her reticule, but she handed her bonnet to a servant as her eyes landed on Mr. Pollard entering the house. “Oh, there he is. I had missed him.”
“Yes, he rode at the back of the carriages to make sure everyone was able to find their way. He is so truly the gentleman.” Bernice then dipped her chin discreetly in the direction of her sister who held Miss Winkley’s arm securely as she poured some information into the girl’s ear.
“I am not sure I would wish to spend so much time riding in my sister’s company if he were not here to meet me at the end of it. ”
Camilla smiled in understanding, and they followed the others into the drawing room where Mrs. Cranwell had set out enough refreshments to feed a small army.
Cloth-covered round tables had been set out in all corners, and each was loaded with sandwiches and fruit, cheeses, pastries—a variety of everything to please any taste.
Guests stood in circles, as Mrs. Cranwell flitted from one group to another.
Camilla purposefully did not seek a glimpse of Lord Pembroke and told herself that she would ignore him as much as she could without appearing rude.
The temptation to wish for more was becoming difficult to withstand and she was determined to protect her heart.
A servant offered a plate to her and Bernice, and she selected some fruit.