There was no sign of the butler in the gardens, but Harriet could not be certain that the man was not watching her from one of the house's windows.
“I think so, Jane. I will meet you at the gate,” she whispered back.
The gate that allowed access to the grove and the woods beyond was a quarter mile along the wall.
“That is far too far! I will meet you at the arbor over there. The wall is not high.”
The head disappeared behind the wall. Harriet hurried along the path to the rose arbor that was a few yards away. She walkedunder the bright red and white flowers, breathing in their heady aroma. Jane Sullivan appeared atop the wall, scrambled over it to drop to the other side before carefully sidestepping her way through the clutching rose thorns. She grinned at Harriet, who could not help laughing at her friend's brazen daring.
“What would happen if you fell and twisted an ankle?” Harriet chided gently, “Or tore your dress on a rose thorn?”
Jane shrugged. “I would get the dress repaired, and as to the ankle, Papa is frequently hobbling about on crutches with gout. I should pretend the same.”
The idea of the slender, quick-footed young girl being afflicted with an illness that struck down old men was comical. Harriet laughed despite the sadness that threatened to drag her down into a pit of despair.
“I know you well enough, Harriet, to see through that smile. I arrived just in the nick of time. Whatever is the matter?”
She threaded her hands through Harriet's arm, hanging on tightly. They walked through the rose arbor.
“Ralph has been called away on business. I will not be attending the Chelmsford ball after all,” Harriet said despondently.
“What rot!” Jane exclaimed. “I am being escorted by my cousin Phillip Hamilton of Heybridge. He is entirely respectable and would gladly provide an escort for you from among his brothers.I think his next younger brother, Edmund, is to take clerical orders. You cannot get more respectable than that.”
“I wish it were that simple,” Harriet sighed. “It is not the lack of an escort that prevents me from attending, but that Ralph himself cannot be there. He is very protective, as you know, ever since…”
They reached the end of the arbor, and Harriet stopped. She looked back over her shoulder at the house. In one of the windows on the second floor, she thought she saw movement, as of a figure standing at the window, watching.
“Let's stay here for the moment. Where we cannot be seen,” she murmured.
Jane peered through the interlaced roses at the house.
“Is your brother spying on you?” she demanded, sounding outraged at the notion.
“Not personally. He asked Beecham to keep an eye on me, and the man takes his orders far too literally.”
“The man is a servant! And you are the lady of the house now. You can order him not to.”
“He will not take my orders where they contradict his master's.”
Jane frowned, stroking her chin as she always did when thinking.
“And will he bar you from leaving the house?” she asked.
Harriet nodded.
“Then we must sneak you out. I have sneaked myself out of the house enough times,” Jane said.
Harriet laughed in astonishment.
Sneak out against Ralph's orders? The very idea is... well, it is quite preposterous. I could not... could I?
“Beecham will be fully occupied around dinner time with preparation for dinner. And I will be expected to be in my room dressing. He will not know if I dress for the ball instead,” Harriet began, excitement at the plan growing within her.
“Exactly! If you send a note down to Beecham telling him that you feel unwell and will take a light supper in your rooms, then you will not be missed for hours!” Jane encouraged.
“I could even instruct that my meal be left for me in the sitting room while I rest in my bedroom. He would not dare put his head in there unless I gave leave. Which I will not!”
Harriet giggled, and Jane echoed her. It was mad and reckless, but it was also exciting, both the idea of attending the ball alone and disobeying Ralph.
