“Yes, you shall,” said Simon, sending her a look filled with warmth, admiration, and such belief that if Mina hadn’t been certain before, she was now. One way or another, she would overcome whatever power Mrs. Banfield still held over her.
Chapter 16
Anyone with sense knew better than to depend on British weather cooperating with one’s plans. If one wanted sunshine, it was guaranteed to pour. When rain was needed, the skies cleared. And the rest of the time, it shifted between the two with enough frequency that one was guaranteed the best and worst weather several times in a single day.
Victoria wanted to know how the Nelsons managed for so many fine days in a row. Though there had been gloomy moments, the past sennight had left the party free to enjoy the outdoors most afternoons. Taking advantage of a particularly fine afternoon, the Nelsons laid out yet another vast spread of delectable treats. The ladies reclined in the sun—beneath tents, of course—while the gentlemen tested their fishing skills. All in all, it was quite a perfect day.
If only Victoria could enjoy it.
Mrs. Kingsley and Mrs. Thompson were seated at easels while the rest of their generation gave up any pretense of such diversions and withdrew to the far side of the canopy to gossip, unaware that Miriam and Miss Dosett had positioned themselves to be out of sight and mind but not out of hearing.
Hettie, Phyllis, and Lily were gathered round Victoria and prattled on as they painted and sketched. Victoria nodded and smiled at appropriate intervals, but having little artistic talent, she’d not bothered to feign interest in the supplies the Nelsons had provided. Being so occupied with their masterpieces and their conversation, her friends gave little notice of how her eyes drifted to Miss Banfield.
Having eschewed the blankets and chairs in favor of sitting directly on the grass, the young lady rested her watercolor journal atop her lap as her brushes moved across the paper to capture the world around her. Forest surrounded the clearing with great trees looming into the air, but often Miss Banfield’s attention was aimed at a single wildflower or insect. Once, Victoria had even found the young lady examining a pile of droppings, though what Miss Banfield found fascinating in such disgusting things was beyond her.
While keeping her face turned to her companions, Victoria’s focus was fixed upon that young lady who’d caught Mr. Kingsley’s eye.
Though not apparent at first glance Miss Banfield was a pretty creature whose features echoed her mother’s aging beauty. No doubt, the young lady chose such plain clothes and coiffures because anything fancier would hamper her explorations, but it also muted her loveliness as much as Victoria’s elaborate styling enhanced hers.
But Miss Banfield’s appearance neither placated nor stirred the aching worries that settled in Victoria’s stomach, for Mr. Kingsley’s attraction to the young lady had little to do with the outward.
It had been easy to dismiss Phyllis’s concerns about Mr. Kingsley’s wandering eye at first, but the past sennight had slowly stripped away that confidence. If Victoria were to believe the whispers, the gentleman escorted the young lady every morning as she traipsed around the countryside. Victoria gave little weight to rumors, but it was impossible to ignore how often her beau sought Miss Banfield’s company. Or his expression while deep in conversation with her. That glimmer in his eye. The tenderness in his smile. The peaceful joy he radiated whenever their heads were together.
Mr. Kingsley still sought out Victoria’s company with equal frequency, but she recognized the sentiments stirring for Miss Banfield, even if the gentleman himself didn’t recognize that his heart was straying.
Victoria’s muscles ached as though she had run from Hardington Hall to this secluded corner of the grounds, her stomach tying in knots as she feigned a nibble of food here and there; even if she felt inclined to eat, Victoria would not arm her insides with something that would just roil and churn, causing her distress for long hours after.
What was she to do?
“Have you seen your brother of late, Lily?” asked Victoria as she rose to her feet.
Lily held a board with watercolor paper fixed atop it, and she held out the painting, examining it this way and that. “I believe the other gentlemen dragged him off to fish.”
Victoria leaned over Lily’s shoulder and glanced at her work. “That is lovely.”
Lily shook her head. “I cannot stand watercolor.”
“You are too like your Uncle Graham,” added Mrs. Kingsley from her seat. An easel sat before her as she sent swirls of color across the paper, capturing with deft strokes the forest. “Watercolor requires patience, something I fear you both lack.”
“If the color would simply stay where I put it, I would have no qualms with the medium,” replied Lily, tossing her painting next to Phyllis and Hettie’s abandoned drawings.
But as the ladies spoke, Victoria’s thoughts strayed as Miss Banfield’s gaze rose to meet hers. Victoria’s lungs heaved, her pulse increasing as she held that young lady’s eyes. She didn’t know if it was fear or anger that sent her blood racing through her (as they were both present in equal measure), but she silently begged for everything to work out as it must. For Miss Banfield to leave Mr. Kingsley be.
The young lady had the integrity not to feign innocence over their silent battle; her complexion pinked, her eyes dropping to her sketch, though she abandoned her paintbrush and pencils on the grass beside her. Letting out a huff of air, Victoria felt little triumph at Miss Banfield’s humble posture. She could not blame the young lady for feeling as she did. Mr. Kingsley was a fine gentleman and would make a good husband. But his heart was already claimed, and she was not about to relinquish it.
For her family’s sake, Victoria couldn’t.
Making her excuses, Victoria went in search of the gentleman. Her skirts were heavy enough to be unwieldy if they were truly out in the wilds, but like most fine houses, any grounds not needed for the master’s livelihood were manicured and controlled; even the most natural looking landscape was carefully crafted and designed by the likes of Capability Brown to give all the appearance of natural beauty with only the occasional crumbling ruin, Grecian temple, or other folly hinting that man had ever touched it. Thus, the path leading into the forest was wide and clear, and easily traversable.
The woods swallowed her up, the trees looming high above and casting her in shadows as Victoria wound her way towards the river. The sounds of water rushing over rocks grew as she drew closer, but the thud of her heart against her ribcage drowned it out.
Surely Mr. Kingsley would not throw her over. Not for some lady whom he’d just met.
But even as Victoria tried to calm her frantic heartbeat, she knew only a fool would ignore the free and easy manner in which the pair conversed. In truth, Victoria had come to enjoy Miss Banfield’s company. She was well-informed yet unassuming, and though she was soft-spoken, she was neither shy nor timid.
Victoria’s steps paused and she placed her hands on her hips, throwing her head back to stare up at the leaves above. Good heavens. The lady’s personality mirrored and complemented Mr. Kingsley’s far too closely. Shaking her head, Victoria’s steps came quicker as she marched along the forest lane. A similarity of disposition did not signify that he would throw her over. Victoria and he had been courting for so long, and a gentleman did not expend that amount of effort to simply walk away.
Yet there was nothing binding Victoria and Mr. Kingsley together. An understanding, certainly, but that may not preclude him from abandoning her.
