Perfectly Flawed (7 page)

"That's right, been here waitin', my horse standin'
idle; costs to feed him." Tyndale gestured wildly with
his right arm. "An' what about me?" He pounded his
chest. "I ain't worked since I made my last deliverynear a fortnight ago. What'll I do without my wagon? I
got to make a livin' !"

"If you will excuse me, gentlemen." Philip interrupted
before Strong could answer. "I believe there must be an
amiable solution to our problem."

No, Philip certainly could not in all good conscience
insist the wheelwright repair his curricle before this good man's wagon. He also did not wish to remain for a
fortnight waiting for the repair of his vehicle and inconvenience the Duke and his family with his unexpected
presence.

He had to find an agreeable solution for all their difficulties. Normally this type of situation was not difficult to
solve. He felt he had only bits and pieces of a puzzle that
when placed together in the correct sequence would set
things to right. Currently he felt inexplicably distracted.

Somehow Philip needed to expedite the repair of his
rig, find a solution to Mr. Tyndale's unemployment, and
locate adequate lodging for his horses.

From the east lawn Muriel could easily see Charlotte
and Sir Hugh pass before the maze. Susan Wilbanks
joined them only moments after starting on the tour of the
grounds.

Muriel had remained with Aunt Penny, who had
donned a bonnet and busied herself directing the placement of tables and chairs.

Fifteen minutes after Sir Hugh's arrival, Lord Arthur
Masters and Lord Irving appeared with their pails of
gooseberries. The two men soon joined the company of
Charlotte's group on their way toward the conservatory.

In another ten minutes, Sir Albert Stephenson, Mr.
Chester Atwater, and Lord Paul Bancroft arrived, followed by Sir Nicholas.

Muriel thought it looked as though Mr. Atwater's and
Lord Paul's jaws, now merely darkened bruises after the
altercation in the assembly, were healing nicely. The thin scratches they sported on the sides of their faces were
new. Upon second inspection, she noted that all of them
seemed to have been afflicted with similar types of marks.

Muriel watched the visitors progress from the conservatory to the parterre.

"Sir Nicholas," Aunt Penny called to the baronet. "All
went well, I trust?"

"Splendidly, ma'am." He removed his hat and bowed.
"Good day to you, Lady Muriel."

"Sir Nicholas," Muriel returned. "I thank you for
your help this morning."

"Think nothing of it. I am pleased to be of service."

"Now that you're here, I assume that all the guests have
arrived? Shall we catch up to the others? I believe they
have made their way to the pond by now." Aunt Penny
gestured Sir Nicholas to the left.

"Your servant." Sir Nicholas offered her his arm and
replaced his hat atop his head.

They caught up with the party, but Muriel was not
there long before Susan pulled her aside.

"Look there, Moo." Susan nodded off toward the
stables. "Is that he?"

They had not yet reached the pond. Muriel stared off
to the left, watching the commotion of someone arriving at the stable. Sir Philip had returned.

"Do you think he might like to join us?" Susan sounded
hopeful, but Muriel couldn't think of anything she dreaded
more.

"Allow me to inquire," Muriel was quick to answer.
She would do what she could to delay him, just in case the baronet should see them and get it into his head to
spoil their private party.

Muriel excused herself, hoping she could come up
with some way to keep Sir Philip occupied. At this moment, she could not envision how she would manage to
detain him.

"Ah, young Lady Muriel!" Philip hailed, raising the
top of his cane to greet her. He brushed at his sleeves,
removing the travel dust he'd accumulated.

"Were you able to see to the repair of your transport?" she asked, strategically positioning herself with
her back to the stables to prevent him from seeing the
other guests.

"To my satisfaction, yes. The arrangements have been
made. The completion will take a bit longer than I would
have liked, but I shall not complain." Philip turned to
the rear of the house and then to his left. He gauged the
reason for her current position: to turn him away from
the pond where he was fairly certain Charlotte's party
would be visible.

"Would you care to see the gardens? The conservatory? The maze?" Muriel offered in quick succession.

Philip did not let on that he knew of her effort to keep
him occupied. She must have felt a desperate need to
keep him away from the festivities.

"You have a maze?" His eyebrows rose in curiosity.
Another type of puzzle that never ceased to amuse him.

"It's a hedge maze. Allow me to show it to you. It's
this way, please." Muriel led him down a path that led
around the rear of the house.

"Might I ask the whereabouts of the rest of your
family?" Philip had meant to upset her a bit, questioning
her about a topic he knew she wished to avoid.

"Aunt Penny plans to serve tea on the east lawn," she
answered without enthusiasm. "Some of the gentlemen
who are staying in the village have been invited to
join us"

"Ah, Lady Charlotte's suitors." He did his best to remain uninterested in the gentlemen suitors or in joining
their gathering.

"Let us enter the Lapidarium. You'll have a better
vantage point of the rear grounds." Muriel preceded him
up the steps into the raised, covered outlook.

"This is indeed quite the collection of stones. Is it a
natural outcropping?" Of course Philip understood the
structure's literal Latin name. He followed her up the
steps and admired the blending of the raised rock and
man-made structure. "I find all this quite astonishing."

"Look there-at the maze corners. My father had the
animal topiaries stationed at each of the entrances so we
could tell them apart when we were very young children."

"Because only one beast must lead to the center. I can
see as children you would have difficulty discerning
which entrance would be the correct one."

"It's not quite that simple," she cautioned. "The paths
are elaborate, but after years of practice we children
could even make our way through the passages at night.
Most people find it nearly impossible to navigate, even
on the brightest of days."

"And yet the Duke's children managed to traverse this
difficult maze." A smile touched Sir Philip's lips. "Your
father, the Duke, is a very clever man."

"I believe you will have the pleasure of making his
acquaintance. We expect Papa to return home in a day or
two. It depends only on how quickly he is able to leave
Parliament."

"Sits in the House of Lords, does he?"

Muriel nodded.

"Quite commendable. I, too, plan to take my place
when my time comes. My father can't be bothered to attend. It's inexcusable, if you ask me." He may have shown
his parent in an unflattering light, but Philip would voice
his opinion. "People depend upon him and he shirks his
duty simply because he ... chooses not to assume the responsibility. When one is in a position of influence, one
must do what one can to promote conditions for those who
cannot"

"Well said, sir," she agreed.

"What other structures of note are there at Faraday
Hall? Did we or did we not pass an orangery adjacent to
the conservatory on our way here?"

"We did."

"Had you planned for us to inspect that as well?"

"I was hoping you would insist."

"I do. Now let us be on our way." Philip stepped to
the ground and raised his hand to aid her descent.

Muriel hesitated for a few moments but then accepted
his gesture. Her refined conduct was a far cry from the country girl he had first thought her when they met earlier that day.

"Do not think I have not noticed," he said, surreptitiously admiring her beneath his lowered lids. "You are
quite the lady in that frock."

"Is that an actual compliment? For me?" She glanced
up to him when stepping upon the ground. "I'm afraid
your pretty sentiments fall upon deaf ears."

"That cannot be."

"I'm afraid so. I am certain I would ruin your day by
admitting that not everyone dresses at the height of fashion on a daily basis."

"Are you referring to yourself? That would be a shame.
When your time comes to marry, I daresay you shall be
quite as breathtaking as your sister." His attention drifted
into the distance, in the direction of the pond and Charlotte. He paid no mind to his companion's reaction.

"I take it you would like to join our other guests?"
Muriel studied him, gauging his interest.

"For tea, yes. I'm afraid that I am not, as of yet, ready
for a wife." Philip knew that someday he must do his
duty-marry and provide for the future of his family
line. It was a step he would not take lightly. "A lovely
face is often enough found, but what I require is more. I
must find a woman with whom I can share more than
occasional polite words. Do not mistake me, young lady.
I find your sister very lovely indeed."

Muriel gazed heavenward; clearly she was tolerating
his lengthy discourse.

"It takes far more than mere beauty, I dare say. Your
sister may be perfection itself in one respect, but I cannot vouch for her other qualities," he told her truthfully.
"It has been my experience that young women who have
the extreme beauty your sister possesses have characters that I consider somewhat ... lacking."

Muriel might have been insulted on her sister's behalf
if she were not so overjoyed at his declaration. She need
not worry that he should try to infiltrate her family by
marriage.

"You do not wish to marry a beautiful lady?" Muriel
found herself curious about his requirements for a wife.
What did Sir Philip think important?

"I shall not complain, mind you, but beauty is not
everything, not even the most important quality. Those
types of women rely primarily on their appearance instead of substance to achieve their goals. Thus, as they
grow into mature womanhood, they become selfish, selfcentered, and vain."

To lump any and all pretty girls into a single category and chastise them all? The man is too hateful!

"I expect a wife to be not only accomplished in music
and the arts but, above all, in possession of a large quantity of compassion."

Muriel stared at him, thinking she had never come
across this sort of man before. She thought him quite
unusual, but still completely unlikable.

"Will you take your place in Parliament when your time
comes? You seem occupied with ... other interests."
Should she have noted them by name? He was an out and-out dandified, pompous fop who thought himself
better than he ought.

"Most certainly. I shall not shirk my duty and the
great responsibility that comes with inheriting my title."
A pained expression crossed his normally placid visage.
"Ah, it so happens, I am only a peer by chance of birth
and an Exquisite by endeavor."

And he brags about it!

"Self-improvement is achievable by anyone," Sir Philip
informed her, "no matter what social position, and appreciated by all."

Coming to the corner of the conservatory, Muriel
stopped. Thank goodness they'd arrived. Perhaps stepping
inside the glass structure and gazing upon the various botanical specimens might distract him from the topic of
himself. Muriel would not have been surprised to discover
the baronet a self-proclaimed botany expert.

"Look there." Sir Philip extended his walking stick in
the direction of a small gathering, mainly of men, strolling toward the pond that lay at the far edge of the property. Easily identified even from this distance-Charlotte
in her blue gown, Susan in her peach frock, and Aunt
Penny in her lavender skirt the three women trailed
across the green that lay on the far side of Faraday Hall.

"So those men are Lady Charlotte's suitors?" Sir Philip
mused. He tapped the handle of his cane against his chin
in thought and chuckled softly.

His pleased reaction was the single quality Muriel
found pleasurable.

"The notion that I should wish to marry her is folly."

Muriel was more than delighted to hear she had overestimated his interest. Then again, he was not well
acquainted with her sister. He had, without knowing,
described the kindhearted Charlotte perfectly, down to
her last compassionate attribute.

She played the pianoforte and the harp with equal
proficiency. Her voice was an instrument without compare, perfection itself, as was her skill in watercolor,
sketching, drawing, embroidery, and sewing. She spoke
French and Italian fluently. As for compassion, Charlotte
possessed this quality, too much of it, some people would
say-a detail Sir Philip must never discover.

Sir Philip could not know Charlotte possessed everything he wished for in a wife. Muriel decided he may believe he was not interested in her sister, but if he were to
learn of the real Charlotte, he might change his mind
about competing for her hand.

Muriel took it upon herself to ensure he would never
be in a position to find out. She vowed she would do all
she could to keep Sir Philip and her sister apart.