He gave her a self-effacing grin. “I ended up with a tatty old bird’s nest on my head, so we shall never know.”
Georgie laughed. “Well, shooting isn’t the only sport. And you are quite good at cricket.”
“Thank you. That reminds me. Brought you a gift.” He dug in his coat pocket and pulled out a Duke six-seam cricket ball.
Georgie stared at it. “That’s your last one....”
“No one more deserving. Oh, and while I may not be a great shot, I am a capital dancer. When I was at school, my father offered to pay for a tutor in either fencing or dancing. You can guess which I picked.”
“Too bad,” Georgie replied. “I like fencing. James has given me lessons, which I enjoyed far more than I ever liked school lessons. Detested sitting indoors for hours on end.”
“You’re not alone there,” Effie said, coming out into the hall to join them. “I was so relieved when the last governess left. My step-da’ wants me to have more schooling, but I’d rather play music or ride.”
Colin nodded. “I can relate. I liked sports and history, but otherwise, I was not a great student.” He raised a pointer finger. “But you should see me dance a quadrille. Then you’d be impressed.”
“Perhaps we shall. We are to have dancing on Twelfth Night. You will attend our party, I trust?”
“Would not miss it.”
“Will Miss Marriott be joining us?”
He shrugged again. “I asked her. Your mother said I might. But she has not come the other times I’ve invited her, and I’m beginning to take the hint.”
Georgie wanted to say she was sorry, but she could not, at least not honestly.
“It’s all right,” he added. “She’s not the girl for me—that’s all. So you two will have to take pity and dance with me.”
Effie’s brow creased with worry. “I dance at home in Scotland, but I fear the dances here are different.” She sent Georgiana an imploring look.
“Don’t ask me,” Georgie said. “I attempted to dance at a few evening parties at Finderlay but never formally learned. I was rather young when my sisters took lessons from a dancing master.”
Colin pressed a hand to his chest, mouth agape. “What? Two fair ladies who don’t know how to dance? Unthinkable. It shall be my pleasure to teach you.”
Since their argument the previous day, Sarah had seen Mr. Henshall only once in passing, heading out somewhere in his greatcoat. He had not joined them for dinner. Nor had she seen him this morning at breakfast.
The scene in the workroom kept running through Sarah’smind. She regretted her words more and more by the minute. Remorse and guilt mounted and churned within until she couldn’t sit still at the desk nor turn her hand to anything productive. She wanted—no, needed—to apologize.
Sarah went looking for the man but could not find him. Instead, she sought out her mother and found her in her room with Cora, the two stitching companionably together.
“Mamma, have you seen Mr. Henshall today?”
“No, my dear.”
“What about Effie?”
“Hmm. Now you mention it, I have not seen her either. Then again, I’ve hardly seen anyone. When I went to breakfast, Emily was just leaving. I did not think to ask where James was. Gone to Killerton for the day, I assume. And of course with Georgiana one never knows. Likely off on one of her rambles.”
“Or at the school,” Cora added shyly.
Mamma patted her hand. “Good point, Cora.”
“Did Mr. Henshall say anything to you about leaving? I thought they planned to stay at least through Epiphany.”
Mamma frowned. “Leaving? No, my dear. Why should they leave now? Did you two quarrel?”
“Well yes, I suppose we did.”
She had certainly not responded to his gift or his attentions the way he had hoped. Had he assumed the worst? He had definitely grown tired of her wavering. Had he given up on her? Decided she was not worth the trouble?
