“Poor Millicent,” said Jane to Lady Elsbeth, “I don’t think she knows how to handle children as rivals.”
With a laugh, the Marquis of Conisbrough leaned back on his elbow next to Lady Elsbeth. "That’s not a contest she has a chance of winning, either."
“Oh?” encouraged Jane.
The marquis sat up. He looked pointedly at Jane. "I don’t tell tales on another. If you want that story, you’ll have to ask him.”
Jane flushed and bristled at the implied criticism. Lady Elsbeth took pity on her niece and patted her hand in understanding. Jane released a long sigh and relaxed. No doubt the primary subject of numerous tales, the marquis had learned the consequences of gossip. When was she going to learn?
With his wineglass refilled, Sir Helmsdon sauntered back to Jane. In his other hand he carried a wine cork, which he absently tossed into the air, catching it as it fell. "I’d like to see this telescope, too. Would you be my guide, Miss Grantley?"
"Certainly, sir,” she said, anxious to get away from the scene of her embarrassment and to give her aunt and the marquis a modicum of privacy. She held out her hand for Sir Helmsdon to help her rise.
He deftly caught the cork once again and, palming it in the same hand that held the wineglass, offered her his free hand. They strolled toward the Folly.
“Miss Grantley,” he said when they were out of hearing. "What do you know of those Willoughbys?"
“Nothing much. They say they’re from the north. That they have houses in Northumbria and Yorkshire. Truthfully, I have not had time to sit and talk with them. Serena has seen to their entertainment. She is much in their company; I believe she met them in Margate. Why do you ask?”
“I do not recall seeing them before we all gathered to set out for Penwick Park. I had the opportunity when their carriage broke down to spend some time with them. They are a trifle crude. Mr. Burry does not like them, and he is a man given to easy camaraderie with everyone.”
“Sir Helmsdon, if you are implying I should think badly of the Willoughbys without any justifiable reason, then I say bluntly that you should desist in this conversation. It has cometo my attention that I have in the past given too much credence to just such suspicions and innuendos. I will not be subject to idle speculation and gossip. It is ruinous.”
“My dear Miss Grantley, it is not my intention to slander without cause. I am merely asking that you exercise caution,” protested Sir Helmsdon.
“Against what? See, you have no answer for me. Such vague suspicions are the stuff that does great damage. They prey upon the imagination, which is ripe for exaggeration. Now please, sir, I have of late given much thought to the effects of gossip. It is not worth my time. I refuse to be a party to scandal-mongering."
“A thousand apologies, Miss Grantley,” Sir Helmsdon said tightly.
Jane looked up at his rigid face. "Come now,” she said, coaxing, “let’s cry friends and be done with it. I, too, apologize. There was no need for me to harangue you as I did. My only defense is that I have lately been on the receiving end of just that sort of argument!”
He looked down at her then, his lips twitching upwards despite his best efforts. "You are a baggage, aren’t you?"
"Yes,” she said with mock sorrow, her green eyes glinting with laughter. "I try hard to conceal it before society, but the truth will out. I am not a comfortable person, sir. You are lucky I do not take your suit seriously.”
“Ah, Miss Grantley, that is still a matter of opinion.”
Jane, uncertain how to respond, was saved from saying anything by the disconcerting halloo Bertram bellowed.
“By Jove, there’s a bird’s nest up there!” exclaimed Bertram, pointing to the ledges near the ceiling of the replica temple. He climbed up on one of the stone benches to get a better view. Millicent, seated on another bench, didn’t even glance up.
“I shouldn’t be surprised if there were bats up there!” she said acidly. She was pouting because the earl was assisting Edward in making adjustments to the telescope.
“Hardly bats, Mrs. Hedgeworth,” Royce drawled. He came to stand by Bertram. "Where do you see it?”
“There, my lord.”
“Where? Where? I want to see, too!” demanded Edward. He dropped the telescope, sending it turning wildly on its swivel mount.
Jane gasped as she saw it come around. "No!” she cried, dropping Sir Helmsdon’s arm and running. The heavy instrument was coming about, wheeling directly for the back of Edward’s head. As Jane ran, she clipped her shin on one of the benches' corners, sending pain shooting up her leg. Ignoring it, she reached for Edward’s little arm, stumbled, and missed.
When Jane heard a smack instead of the thud she was expecting, she looked up. The earl had stopped the telescope with the palm of his hand mere inches from Edward’s head. A shuddering sigh convulsed her body. She gulped air and sank down on a bench. "Edward Litton,” she said tersely when she could speak, “if you cannot handle the telescope properly, I shall refuse to allow you to touch it. I will not be forced to explain to my sister why you have a gash in your head or why the telescope is broken. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, Aunt Jane. I’m sorry.” Then he turned his attention back to the bird’s nest, forgetting her words and the telescope. "Where’s the nest? I can’t see it.”
Sir Helmsdon came up beside her. "I believe you could use this wine more than I,” he said ruefully.
Jane nodded and gratefully accepted the proffered glass. Sir Helmsdon began tossing the cork again.
