They decided to dine in their robes, so at least that saved Alice and I from an extra wardrobe change. Both were in a hurry to scour the countryside for a ducal sighting. We served a hot lunch, while they gossiped about who would be the bride and which the bridesmaid. Louise would obviously be the bride, since she was the oldest sister and by far the prettiest. At least by her estimation. Besides, the duke was the highest peer around, second only to royalty. Far too good to squander on Charlotte, for whom an earl or viscount would be more than adequate. I wondered if I should offer an honourable death to the duke, rather than be caught in Louise's snare.
Riding habits were donned, stocks tied, and Louise fidgeted while I tried to ensure her veil was tight. It would never do to be seen out with a baggy veil. Heaven forbid. Charlotte giggled behind her hand, and for the millionth time I wished Alice and I could swap on occasion. Like her mother, Louise liked to have me close at hand to hear her witty put-downs. Charlotte exhibited moments of normality, and I was sure if separated from the other two, we could have been friends.
In the yard, Henry stood in his silent manner with three horses. In one hand he held two dainty chestnut mares fitted with their side-saddles, and in the other the more solid cob with his feathered feet.
"I'll help," I said, and took two of the mounts from Henry so he could assist Louise first.
The older sister always took precedence. She stood on the top step of the mounting block, unbuttoned the safety apron and tossed it over her arm. Henry manoeuvred the mare to the right spot. With one hand on the bridle, his other hand went to the balance strap to steady the saddle, as Louise put her foot in the stirrup. The mare rolled her eyes as Louise levered herself into the saddle and then fussed with her apron. First she found her seat, and then she swung her leg over the top pommel.
Charlotte appeared at my elbow and took the reins to her mare. "You had better help, or we'll be here all day," she huffed under her breath.
I shot her a quick smile and chewed my lip, while I ensured Louise's apron hung level with the ground. You would think she was going off to hunt at the duke's right hand, leading the pack of hungry peers eager for entertainment, not going for a sedate hack down a secluded lane. Although I suppose she did have a certain prey in her sights, she just hoped to catch scent of him.
Charlotte was next, and while Henry helped her, Stewart appeared from between the barn and the house. He placed his hands on hips. "Tractor's stuck down the back field by the river, we need Henry to help lever it out."
"No, he cannot be spared." Louise said in a strident tone. "We cannot ride out unaccompanied. What if we come across one of those things?"
Henry caught my gaze and raised one eyebrow. Stuck tractor versus a country hack. One job needed far more muscle than the other. He took off his bowler and held it out to me. Fantastic, I got to ride out as groom and listen to Louise's endless nonsensical chatter for the next couple of hours. I'd rather scrub the lavatory, which was my original plan.
"Could you come instead, Ella, please?" Charlotte asked, a genuine smile on her face.
Louise snorted. "A sorry groom she makes, but if we must make do, so be it." She shot a look at my scruffy appearance.
Once again I wore Henry's cast off trousers and linen shirt, but in my defence because apparently I needed one, it was easier wear for hard labour. For an instant, I think the corner of Henry's mouth twitched, he better not be laughing that he escaped the ride with the pair of crows and their squawking.
He unbuttoned his tweed waistcoat and tightened the back tie before handing it over.
I sighed and slipped my arms through the holes. "No point getting this muddy digging out the tractor."
I tucked my hair up under the bowler to pad it out, but the hat still came down around my ears and dropped over my forehead. Coupled with the waistcoat, I could pass as a groom. I took the red handkerchief from my pocket and tied it around my neck.
He dropped the shotgun over my head and then patted my shoulder, his version of thank you, and left with Stewart. Lucky bugger, I'd rather be knee deep in mud any day. I would rather have my sword as well, but the shotgun would do, at least while we were mounted and not on foot. I climbed onto the cob, and Louise trotted off down the lane.
I had no fears of keeping them in sight. Both women were barely adequate riders, and the chestnuts were unfit and tired easily. Cossimo, the cob, was spry despite his looks and his loose trot ate up the miles as I kept apace at their backs. After a brief canter, we dropped back to a walk.
Louise complained loudly about her saddle fit, but from my position at the rear, it was obvious the problem was her seat. She twisted terribly to the left, not that she would ever listen to my advice to keep her right shoulder back.
As we rode, I blocked out their inane chatter about who should design Louise's wedding gown. I let it drift around me like the drone of fat bumblebees, while my senses stayed alert for any wandering vermin.
A regular tempo on the road caught my attention.
A horse's hooves drumming on packed earth is unmistakable. I turned in the saddle to see a handsome chestnut and a large bay bearing down on us. Vermin don't ride horses, but thieves do. It was a deserted lane and these two were approaching fast. I drew the shotgun and held my position.
"Oh my," Charlotte said, noticing I had stopped. "Who is it?"
"I don't know. Hold there." Some natural instinct made me pull the bowler lower over my brows, and I nestled the lower half of my face in the soft cotton of the kerchief.
The two riders dropped to a trot and then an active walk as they saw us, and my steady shotgun.
"Hello," the lead rider called out. "No need for the gun, lad."
Oh hell. Now that they closed in, I recognised the voice and face: Seth deMage.
I slid the shotgun back into its holder on my back.
He was dressed in a casual manner with a tweed soft cap on his head. Scandalously, he wore no jacket, and his shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. His man behind was attired in a similar fashion, although on closer inspection the cut of his clothes were not quite as fine or the fit as tailor-made.
Louise narrowed her eyes at the strangers, and I hung back. "Do we know you, sir? Do you have reason to interrupt our ride?"
Oh, this could get fun. Without a suit and topper, Louise assumed he was some local bumpkin. Or two lads out looking for some fast ladies to while away a summer afternoon.
"Forgive me. I saw two lovely ladies out with only a lad for protection, and thought to offer myself and my man." The duke was all smiles as he tugged at his cap. "Seth deMage. I had hoped to make the acquaintance of my neighbours."
Fortunately, the handkerchief covered my mouth, because I nearly spat up in laughter and was able to turn it into a credible cough. Louise developed an eye twitch, and even from my spot I could see her mind cease to function accordingly. Seth seemed to have that effect on people.
“Your grace.” She blinked. Here was the object of her wedding plans, right in front of her. Perhaps now would be a good time to solicit his opinion about the best dress designer and type of cake?
"How fabulous." Charlotte swept in and kicked her mare forward. "We have heard you returned to our corner of the countryside, your grace."
"Yes, we had heard," Louise repeated, her thoughts not quite catching up with what her eyes saw before her. I desperately wanted to ask if she thought him delicious.
Seth's smile really was lovely, for a man. "Perhaps you would allow us to accompany you? I couldn't bear the thought of any of the turned stumbling upon you with only this lad and his gun to protect you."
Disguise working well then. I just wasn't sure if I was grateful or not. Louise glared at me, which was code for keep your mouth shut. Better continue being a lad then, not that I wanted to speak up now. His man gave me a wink, and his bay fell in next to the sturdy cob while Louise took up a spot next to Seth. Charlotte occupied the space between and stewed that she was cut out of the conversation.
Once Louise recovered, she advanced full force. She dominated the conversation, and I thought for sure the duke would offer surrender before too long. She bombarded him with questions, but never bothered to wait for a response. In one breath she asked about the quality of the food while on campaign, as though he took a chef and butler to the trenches with him. In another she asked about his tailor, because of the fabulous fit of his clothes. Yes, let's all draw attention to his broad shoulders and narrow hips, perfectly displayed under his cotton shirt from behind. Or we could dwell on the sight of his behind when he rose to the trot. I sighed, and his man gave me a strange look.
Before too long, we headed up the lane to our modest house.
"It isn't much, I'm afraid," she said.
With a wave of her hand, Louise dismissed all the hard work father and I had done to maintain the little estate. Stewart cut the buxus hedging that hugged the curve of the drive. Twice a year he sharpened his shears and got out a plumb line to ensure everything was square and level. We chose roses in tones of orange and yellow to contrast with the soft grey of the stone. It might be humble, but it exuded warmth. The canker that ate its heart was not visible from outside.
"Our house in London was so much grander. But we all made sacrifices during the war."
The only thing Louise gave up during the war was the subscription to her fashion magazine. And that was only because their Paris office was bombed, forcing it to close while it relocated.
"It has been delightful to make your acquaintance," Seth said.
Louise held out her hand, and he took the hint. Nudging his horse closer to take her gloved hand, he dropped a chaste kiss a fraction above the soft leather.
"I must have you to dinner, once I have things in hand at Serenity House."
"What you need is a capable duchess to sort all that out for you," she said behind lowered lashes.
Oh, good move Louise. That would be the most unsubtle hint I have ever heard dropped. It detonated just like a grenade and Seth recoiled as though avoiding the shrapnel.
"Perhaps," he muttered. "But there are a myriad of other things which need my attention first."
"Lovely to finally meet you, your grace." At least Charlotte remained gracious.
Seth touched the peak of his cap. "I shall send word when I am ready to open up the house. Ladies." With that said, he set his heel to the chestnut, and the two men cantered down the road.
"We must tell mother," Louise said as she guided her mare into the courtyard. "I will need new gowns so I look my best for when his dinner invitation arrives. I know a winter wedding is not traditional, but the sooner I move out of this hovel, the better."
Chapter Five
The next day, I stood in the kitchen and watched a remarkable sight. Alice wheedled, which should have been an entirely unattractive state for a woman. Except with her large eyes with their unusual amber ring, and the soft ruffling of chocolate curls around her face, she came across as adorable. An adorable wheedler – that should be an oxymoron. She could probably stop vermin in their tracks with that look, and I briefly wondered about testing the theory out. Being staked out on the fence line would serve her right for wheedling.
"Please." Another bat of the eyes lashes. Well played, Alice. "It's my day off, and it should darn well be yours too. I'll not leave you to mope around the house for them to prey upon."
It would be nice to escape for a few hours, to forget about the daily worries even if it were to play third wheel to Alice's plans. She saw me wavering.
"You simply have to come as chaperone, or I cannot meet Frank."
That drew a laugh. "It's 1919, some women now have the vote and went to the front to tend our men as nurses, while others kept England running. I'm sure you can have a luncheon date without a chaperone." There was something else that bothered me. "Besides, haven't you been meeting this chap on the quiet for over a month now?"
A frown crossed her face and she blew air. Ha! I knew she was sneaking off to see someone. She marshalled her defences and tried again.
"Please." The last plaintive cry was accompanied by a lip tremble. Darn woman, it was like trying to walk past an injured puppy.
"All right, then." Resistance was futile, and at least one of us had a chance at being happy. Besides, I will admit to being curious about this fellow who seemed to dominate her waking moments, and quite a few of her sleeping ones by the noises and sighs she made.
She squealed and hugged me. "Excellent. Now hurry up and get changed."
What was this obsession with my clothing? I glanced down at my shirt and trousers and sighed. I knew a losing battle when I wandered into one, Alice would not be satisfied until I wore a walking suit. Upstairs, I shed one set of cast offs for another, a suit from Louise with beautiful lace asymmetrical inserts. It was a few seasons old, but I didn't care. The pale grey pinstripe suited my blonde colouring and made me feel ethereal, as though I had stepped into a story.
The sad truth was I had no pretty clothes of my own. Step-mother gave me a uniform and the occasional hand me down from the others. A smart outfit gave me a window to another world, one where father might walk through the door and wave us off. He would joke and laugh and tell us to be home by dinnertime.