Miss Morton stiffened. “You recall that?”
“Of course,” said Rosanna with a smile. “You spoke so eloquently about the subject that I cannot help but remember. However, I fear I was entirely the wrong audience for such a discussion, for I do not know a single thing about naturalism and am too much of a dunce to understand it.”
Then, motioning towards the gentleman, she added, “The other day, I overheard Mr. Pugh speaking about that same subject, and I knew I needed to introduce you two.”
Miss Morton stiffened the slightest amount, her eyes jumping between Rosanna and Mr. Pugh. And then her lashes began to thrum, but Rosanna squeezed her arm. Thankfully, the young lady was distracted enough by the nudge that she abandoned her poor attempts at flirtation and focused on calmly greeting the gentleman.
In quick succession, they spoke about the book in question, comparing it to others they’d read on the subject, and Rosanna tried hard to focus on the conversation, but it was so interminably dull that she struggled to hear one word in three. However, Miss Morton held her arm so firmly that Rosanna didn’t dare sneak away.
Mr. Pugh laughed at something the young lady said, and Rosanna followed suit without understanding the jest. As the words flowed, Miss Morton’s hold slackened, and soon enough, she was merely standing at Rosanna’s side, rather than fused to it.
“Would you care to sit?” asked Mr. Pugh, and Miss Morton beamed, taking his hand as he helped her to the cushions. Gentleman though he was, Mr. Pugh moved to sit before he realized that he’d forgotten Rosanna and moved to assist her.
“That is very kind,” she said, holding up a staying hand, “but I needed to speak with Mrs. Rushworth, and for the first time since we’ve arrived, she is unoccupied. I ought to seize my opportunity while I have it.”
Glancing at Miss Morton, Rosanna searched the young lady’s gaze. She seemed far more at ease than she had been before, so with a final farewell, Rosanna left the two potential sweethearts to fall in love over discourses on birds, insects, flowers, and who knew what else. As she strode away, she took one more look over her shoulder at the pair. They were quite well-matched, and she couldn’t help the spring in her step at seeing them so comfortably situated.
Unfortunately, before Rosanna arrived at Mrs. Rushworth’s side, she was waylaid by yet another pair of ladies wishing to know more about The Mysterious Mr. Tate. Why must they all refer to him in such a manner?
No doubt the gentleman would laugh at it. Mr. Tate was quite free with his joy, after all.
And for all the contentment she’d earned by aiding Miss Morton, Rosanna felt her heart sinking once more as she had to relay the same words, the same excuses, the same evasions as before. Made all the harder when she kept spying Mr. Tate from across the picnic.
She wished Prudence was there. They’d hardly had any chance to speak about what had happened, and she needed her sister’s guidance. Prudence was so clear-sighted and knew precisely what ought to be done. But even if she arrived, Rosanna would have a hard time securing time alone with her, as she couldn’t go more than five minutes without someone demanding her attention.
As she nodded at some inanity, Rosanna’s gaze drifted to Mr. Tate. It was truly startling to see him dressed like the London gentleman he was, yet in the same breath, it seemed natural. The more she watched him, the more she couldn’t believe that she’d ever believed his story. As if that man could ever be anything but a master.
And then his gaze found hers, and Rosanna was struck once more by the blueness of his eyes. They were quite a perfect shade, drawing one in with their warmth and clarity. Mr. Tate smiled, and his face lit up as though they shared some secret jest, though she could well imagine he was stuck in a similarly uninspiring conversation.
Which was somewhat humorous.
She supposed.
Rosanna forced her attention from him and nodded at the ladies gathered round. “I apologize, but I was hoping to speak with Mrs. Rushworth. I have been trying to steal a moment with her since I arrived.”
The others waved her off, and Rosanna made it a full twenty feet before she was stopped once more.
Chapter 22
“Good afternoon, Miss Leigh. I have long wished to make your acquaintance.”
It took all of Rosanna’s considerable social acumen not to grimace at the interruption. But there was no helping it.
“That is such a mysterious introduction, Miss…?” said Rosanna with a smile.
The lady’s brows jerked upwards, and though she did an admirable job hiding a cringe, Rosanna spied the strain in the lady’s lips.
“Do forgive my poor manners, Miss Leigh. I’m Mrs. Molly Bracegirdle. My husband and I have just recently moved into town.”
“Any relation to the Bracegirdles who own Beeches Mill?”
“That is why we have come,” said Mrs. Bracegirdle. “Now that he is married, it’s time for us to settle, and he is to take over for his father. Are you acquainted with his family?”
Rosanna shook her head. “Not in the slightest, but we are a mill town, and everyone knows the names of the mills and their owners.”
Mrs. Bracegirdle’s smile seemed to falter the tiniest bit, and she gave a jerky nod. “I am finding that to be true. In London, we were simply another face in the crowd, but here…”
“Everyone knows everyone’s business,” replied Rosanna with a laugh. “Yes, I fear without all the entertainment the city can offer, we must do something to pass the time. Gossip is the country’s favorite sport.”
