They had reached and crossed the ancient stone bridge, passing a couple of village boys who were dropping twigs into the stream and loudly trying to predict which twig would float furthest and fastest.
“A case of mistaken identity. He mistook me for a lady who, according to him, would have deeply loved this particular…game.”
Jane tilted her head as if considering. “There are worse men to be chained to, I suppose. Purely in terms of looks and physical stature anyway.”
Now, it was Harriet's turn to gape.
“You are incorrigible!” she protested.
But she found herself reminded of the feel of his body pressed hard against hers. Of his fierce embrace, exploring hands, and heated kisses. Jane was watching her, and she cleared herthroat, looking away. They descended to the far side of the bridge and followed the road, which meandered between clumps of trees to the old priory building beyond. It was no longer a house of worship but instead was a residence belonging to an absent landlord and periodically rented out.
A woman was walking down the road in the opposite direction, but was far enough away that she could not overhear their conversation.
“It sounds like you had quite the adventure. Well, that was the reason for sneaking you out, after all,” her friend shrugged. “I take it your grandmother did not mind. Or did she truly not know before now?”
“I… I think she suspected. Grandmama figures out everything eventually. She hinted to me about it over breakfast yesterday. She will not tell Ralph. Or, at least, she would not have told him before. With today’s revelations…” Harriet grimaced in despair.
Jane chuckled, then with a wicked smile, asked, “And before you became shackled together… did the mistaken identity result in anythingelsehappening between the two of you? It doesn't seem the kind of thing a man does to a woman as a game without some...preliminary activity, one might say.”
If Harriet thought she was blushing before, it was nothing compared to the color she became now. Jane laughed and hugged her friend sideways.
“Good for you, Hattie! A little kissing is nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed of. I, myself, kissed more than one gentleman at the Chelmsford ball and do not feel in the least bit guilty.”
But did your kisses involve tongues? Or hands touching places that should not be touched except by a husband?
Harriet decided not to disclose to Jane how far the interaction with Jeremy had escalated.
“He asked me to continue the charade of the engagement,” she added instead. “It is supposedly important for some business agreement he seeks with the Winchesters. Can you believe that? He wants me to pretend to be his betrothed for an entire month!”
Jane pursed her lips. “In exchange for what?”
Harriet was taken aback by the odd question, thinking that her friend would simply agree that the proposition was beyond the pale.
“Why... I do not think he actually offered me anything. Except that I should experience freedom for the month, out of Ralph's control.”
“Which is what you have dreamed of for years, have you not? To be free to experience the world, to have fun, and be out from under your brother's thumb. You have always said so, at least,” Jane tipped her head, a sly smile tugging at her mouth. “Well,now you have your chance, Hattie! Is he expecting anything from you during this period of play-acting as his fiancée? Any…favors?”
“We did not discuss it,” Harriet answered stiffly.
No, but we certainly enacted some scandalous behavior, and that was bad enough...
“Then our first step is to make your terms very clear.” Jane spun on her heel to face Harriet, hands planting firmly on her hips. “Boundaries must be set, and his expectations of you outlined—precisely.”
Harriet stopped in the middle of the path, too. The woman walking in the opposite direction was closer now. She wore a white dress and carried a parasol over her shoulder. Her hair was dark and fell down her back in lustrous waves. She seemed to be watching Harriet, who could not spare any attention from the madness that Jane was proposing.
“Jane, I amnotgoing through with this,” Harriet muttered between gritted teeth.
“Of course you are. This is what you've always wanted. Besides, it will be good for you,” Jane replied.
Harriet was about to protest further when the dark-haired woman crossed the road to them.
“Eh, pardonnez,” she said in a thick French accent, “but I am seeking the house known asOaksgrove. Do I follow the correct road?”
Harriet stared at her for a moment, certain she had never seen this woman at the house before.
A friend of Ralph's, perhaps?
“Yes, as a matter of fact, this road will take you to Danbury, and Oaksgrove is not far beyond, ” Jane answered briskly. “As it happens, this lady is its mistress.”
