‘Oh, it’s so lovely to have you both. back with us, Edward,’ Josephine returned warmly, ‘even if it’s only for the weekend. I was beginning to think Fred and Sir Francis were going to be our only visitors this spring, and the Knightswood fayre can only entertain so much.’
Edward grinned. ‘Fred and his companion not kicking up enough larks?’
‘When has Fred ever kicked up a lark?’ Josephine retorted. ‘And Sir Francis is far too…’
‘Boring?’
‘Sensible,’ Josephine corrected reprovingly, as Edward snorted with laughter.
‘That’s one word for it,’ he murmured. ‘Anyway, I believe Thomas has a special weekend plan for everyone.’
‘What kind of plan?’ Josephine frowned.
‘Well, Icouldtell you, but if we don’t hurry up, we’ll be eating crusts for breakfast!’ he exclaimed, urging his pony into a canter and leaving Josephine no choice but to chase him the rest of the way.
* * *
‘So, whatisThomas’s special weekend plan?’ Josephine asked a half-hour later, tucking into a warm buttery roll and jam.
She gazed at the trickling river, and then the canopy of whispering oaks over their heads, as the tightness in her chest eased. The mossy stepping stones and gurgling brook were a favourite play spot when they were younger, and there was a serenity in the dappled light that always soothed her.
‘Ah!’ Henry grinned from his mid-stream perch, catching minnows with his cupped hands. ‘You mean his plan to send everyone to the Davenport Derby for the evening, rather than go to the trouble of hosting his guests himself?’
Josephine chuckled. The Davenports were a local family with five unmarried daughters, who regularly held soirees to entice local gentlemen of a marriageable age into their circle. While she and her sisters tolerated the occasions, their brothers were far less enraptured and often referred to them as Davenport Derbys, given the competitive performances.
‘Fred, Sir Francis and Lord Huntingly too?’ Matilda queried through a mouthful of cake.
Edward frowned. ‘Apparently so… Not that the latter said above two words to me this morning.’
‘You’ve met Lord Huntingly?’ Josephine asked quickly. ‘I thought he was staying at the White Stag?’
‘I believe he is, but he was also riding past the lower gate early this morning as I was heading out. He’d enjoyed an early hunt, judging by the number of hares swinging from his saddle,’ Edward mused, ‘and is obviously a keen sportsman… Though, in truth, I’m not sure whatyousee in him, Jo.’
‘You know?’ Josephine asked, startled by her brother’s candid comment.
Her brothers had arrived at Knightswood long after dinner, which made the sharing of her betrothal news fast work even for Thomas.
‘Yes, I hailed a greeting in good humour, and he barely acknowledged me. Then a moment later he called: “You must be a Fairfax, you’ve the look of Fred without the nerves. I’m your new brother to be,” before riding off as cool as you like!’ Edward muttered indignantly. ‘Anyway, he seemed cavy to me but, if he’s the one for you, Jo, I’m sure I wish you well!’
Satisfied he’d more than fulfilled his brotherly duty, he rested back on a mossy cushion in the sunshine.
‘He could have been referring to me!’ Matilda protested through the last of her warm roll. ‘I am eighteen now, remember.’
‘Nah, no one will take you!’ Henry interjected, sneaking up from behind. ‘You’re far too prickly, like a dewy moorland thistle.’ Then he took great delight in shaking handfuls of icy river water over his younger sister, who shrieked and set off up the riverbank in pursuit.
‘Could tell Huntingly wasn’t referring to Matilda right away,’ Edward grinned. ‘He was far too calm. Anyway, it’s your turn first, isn’t it? He just seems a little different from what I expected, that’s all.’
Josephine drew a breath and, not for the first time, marvelled at the world of young gentlemen, where everything happened fairly and in step.
‘Lord Huntingly is Thomas’s choice, not mine, but the matter is quite settled,’ she replied firmly. ‘And Lord Huntingly doesn’t do small talk,’ she added, having decided to spare her younger brother the full drama of his story. ‘Though he does enjoy sport, like you.’
‘Most gentlemen enjoy sport to one degree or another.’ Edward shrugged, pushing a whole sugar cake into his mouth. ‘Well, most except Fred that is. I don’t know, I suppose I expected Thomas to pick more of an academic type for you, but perhaps he has hidden depths.’
Josephine pictured Lord Huntingly in his breakfast room, forcing her to gaze on his scars, before his unexpected visit to Thomas and the kiss that had seared itself into her thoughts. And now there was Edward’s view of his skill as a huntsman, his glass-eyed trophies hanging from his horse’s saddle. A dart of fear twisted somewhere deep inside. She wasn’t sure she wished for any knowledge of her betrothed’s hidden depths, even if he did possess them.
ChapterNine
Davenport House; Gods and Angels
