“Good God, really?” He looked at both of them. “We can get that into the wagon along with the passengers?”
“Well, sir,” grinned the driver. “Them folks may ‘ave to snug up a bit, but by the looks of ‘em, ‘twon’t be no trouble, like.”
Paul reached out and tapped his knuckles on the lad’s head. “Too smart by half.” He sighed. “Well, let’s to it, then. I’d rather have most of it done before they’re finished with their lunch.”
The three men divested themselves of their outer layers and set to, determined to release the monster from its bonds with the land and the rest of the debris around it.
*~~*~~*
Back at the hunting box, Harriet was racking her brains to come up with a plan for the evening.
She’d realized rapidly that people such as these guests—in other words those of playful dispositions, to put it kindly—needed something to keep them occupied. Otherwise she could foresee trouble.
She and Cook had already mapped out a battle plan for a meal that was slanted toward thefillingend of possible dishes. There would be plenty of root vegetables—potatoes, turnips and the like—served with several pork dishes, and a rich game soup. The sweets would feature hot mince pies with brandy sauce. If that didn’t slow everyone down, then Harriet would simply toss her lace cap away and declare herself finished.
She was mulling over the idea of some after dinner games when a loud knock on the front door heralded visitors. Since the Yule log party couldn’t possibly have returned yet, she was at a loss to imagine who could be calling such an out-of-the-way place.
But when she heard a voice, and then another, she dropped everything and rushed into the hall.
“Letitia,” she cried, running to greet her dearest friend. “And James too.” She hugged them both enthusiastically. “What on earth are you doing here? Not that I’m not beside myself with joy at seeing you…” She hugged Letitia once more for good measure.
“Good grief,” laughed Letitia. “I need to breathe, dear Harry.”
A maidservant had arrived and helped them out of their winter garments, smiling at Harriet’s nod of approval as she hung them neatly on a rack of hooks by the door.
“She had to see you, you know. And when she has to do something, there’s no stopping here.” Sir James FitzArden grinned proudly at his new wife.
Harriet looked at them both. “Marriage suits you.”
“Go ahead,” sighed Letitia. “You can say it.”
“I wouldn’t be so uncharitable.” Harriet snickered. “I am thinking it, though.”
Letitia turned to her husband. “She told me so.”
“I know. Along with just about everybody else, you stubborn wench.” He dropped a light kiss on her cheek, then turned to Harriet. “Now then. Can you spare a cup of tea?”
“I was about to ask that myself.”
The voice from the staircase made all three heads turn, and Harriet was quite surprised to see the Earl descending slowly, with his cane. He was dressed properly, but not as formally as he might have been. His white hair showed against the dark blue of his jacket, and his elegant manner was evident at the warm smile he gave the assembled throng.
“I say,” said James. “How lovely to see you here, my Lord.” He bowed. “It’s been too long.”
“Indeed, James.” The Earl reached the bottom of the stairs. “And I see you finally found yourself a bride…” He turned to Letitia. “And a beauty at that.”
“May I introduce Lady Letitia FitzArden? She was a Ridlington until a couple of days ago. My dear, this is the Earl of Vernwood. We have been acquainted for many years.”
“Ah…” The Earl nodded. “I met your brother once, I believe, dear child,” he said as Letitia curtseyed. “Some demmed Naval function, full of brass, buttons, ribbons and rum.”
“That would be Edmund, my Lord,” replied Letitia. “And yes, although he’s now Baron, he still has a tendency toward brass and buttons.” She blinked. “Not sure about the rum though, since he’s become a father. He’s fonder of Chillendale ale these days.”
The Earl laughed. “Good man. Can’t go wrong with that particular brew.”
“And there is still some left, sir,” said Harriet, “even after last night. But I think tea might be more in order, don’t you?”
The Earl glanced at James and the two men exchanged similar sighs.
“Oh dear,” laughed Letitia. “It has to be tea. We’ve still got a way to travel today, and if he starts on the ale, he’ll sleep the rest of the journey. Which will render me bored and I shall have to climb up onto the box and engage the driver in a small flirtation to while away the time.” She rolled her eyes. “All because he chose ale over tea.”
