Sweet Bargain (8 page)

Mrs. Charles Shaw, the vicar's wife, appeared startled for a moment, as if she had had no notion that they were all dining at her table. Then she called to the children, shooing them toward a maid servant at the door.

"Dear," she addressed her husband, "you must lead us." The Shaws began to move toward the door with a sort of confusion Nick had never witnessed in his uncle's house. In the stir he found himself face-to-face with Bel Shaw.

"Oh dear," Mrs. Charles Shaw said, "I never presented you to my niece, did I, Lord Haverly? Miss Shaw, Lord Haverly." They were surrounded by all her relatives, but, in that moment of bustle and change, all fell silent, or perhaps Nick simply no longer heard them. What Bel might have done had the introduction been made more discreetly, he could not guess. But under these circumstances, he knew she would have to acknowledge him.

"Miss Shaw," he said, inclining his head with a slight bow and extending his hand. She would have to take it, and he would touch her though she wished him a hundred miles away.

"My lord," she said. Her eyes flashed defiance, but after a hesitation so slight he felt only he had noticed it, her hand met his. An act of will was required to allow him to let her go. In her action there was every appearance of appropriate reserve between strangers, but he felt his face must show how stirred he had been at the brief touch. He did not know how he came to be seated in the dining room with Mrs. Darlington on his right and his hostess on his left. Soup had been served, and his hostess regarded him expectantly. He smiled and raised his spoon.

Bel did not know where to look. Her hand tingled from the brief touch of the earl's. She had turned from him to find her mother's gaze on her, not unkind but cautioning. Clearly, her mother had recognized the unease of Bel's meeting with the earl and wondered at it. Darlington, too, had seen her encounter with Haverly. Now, to her left across the table, he glared at her.

The earl was at the far end of the table between Mrs. Darlington and Aunt Margaret, and Bel's wayward gaze sought his without her will. To her dismay, every glance of her own down the length of the crowded table seemed to be detected by her mother or Darlington.

The earl's silence seemed to reproach her family's hearty volubility. Familiar anecdotes that had amused Bel, no matter how frequently repeated, now seemed self-absorbed and vain. Even Augustus Shaw seemed to have too much to say. Uncle Fletcher proposed a toast to the earl's health. Ellen stared at the man with a steadiness that would have done credit to a cat. Then Aunt Margaret served poached trout, to which Darlington called everyone's attention with a fulsome compliment that set Aunt Margaret to apologizing.

"Oh, dear, my lord, you must wonder what I was thinking. But trout are so lovely poached ... in wine, of course, with tarragon and basil."

Again Bel could not help but look his way. Again he seemed to anticipate her glance and meet it. Her aunt was explaining the poaching process in detail, elaborating on the mix of herbs and wine, and blushing more with every mention of
poach
or
poached
or
poaching
. For a minute Bel thought his solemn eyes brightened with mirth. Then her father came to her aunt's rescue with an account of Uncle Charles' fishing for the trout in question right behind the vicarage.

By then Bel had no notion of what she was eating or what was being said around her. Threads of conversation from his end of the table tangled in her mind with the remarks of those around her so that she didn't dare reply to Phil, her dinner partner. Really, she was behaving foolishly, and Phil did not deserve such inattention from her. He was but newly promoted to Aunt Margaret's company table and doing his best. He furrowed his handsome brow, adjusted the unfamiliar cravat at his throat, and plunged on with his subject. Her eldest brother, Richard, on her left, expected no more from her than a nod of agreement from time to time. This she could comfortably give as Richard, in spite of heroic action at Talavera and Badajos, never said anything which could not be consented to by the entire population of the nation.

Bel welcomed the arrival of Aunt Margaret's custard and the suggestion that soon followed that the ladies should adjourn, but Bel's father rose as well.

"Charles, the ladies have the advantage if we let them depart now. I say we all step out into your garden. The evening's as fine a one as we're likely to have this summer."

"My lord? Squire?" asked Charles Shaw, looking to the earl and Squire Darlington.

At the earl's agreement, chairs were pushed back, linens dropped, voices raised. A servant came forward to open the double doors at the end of the room, and the guests moved out onto a low stone terrace and from it to the lawn that stretched to the river below.

Bel held back a little, resolving to take herself firmly in hand. How had the presence of one new person so altered her behavior at a family dinner—the same sort of dinner she had reported in detail to Tom not weeks earlier? Tonight she was sure she remembered nothing except the earl's eyes. What could she write her brother?
"Dined with the Earl of Haverly. His eyes are as dark as pools of night. His gaze makes me hot in the coolest muslin."

She had not been herself since the earl had come to Ashecombe. She felt oddly restless and in need of something, some adventure, some chance to act, to take some part in larger affairs, as Tom was doing. That, she supposed, was what Tom had been feeling that summer he had tried to kiss every girl in the county. He probably no longer thought about kissing at all, not while the Turks attacked British ships. If only she had Turks to battle, she would not be staring at the empty custard cups, thinking about ...
kissing
.

When Bel stepped out on the terrace, the Shaws had drifted down across the sloping lawn toward the river, which took a lazy turn here behind the vicarage. Her mother and the other women were strolling in the rose garden. Her father and uncles were leading the earl and the squire closer to the river, where Auggie and Joe were punting. Ellen hovered between the group with the earl, and Darlington, who lagged behind them. From the left where the river lay hidden behind a stand of willows came her niece and nephew, Kit and Sarah, running and calling her name. Diana followed her young charges. Bel turned and crossed the lawn to meet them.

"Auntie Bel, come see what we found," urged Sarah, easily outdistancing her younger brother.

"What is it?" asked Bel.

"Frogs," said Kit, "new ones. Just this big." He put his chubby forefingers together so there was no space between them. His stockings were wet and mud—streaked and limp about his ankles, and there were bits of sedge tangled about his shoes.

"And you can catch them right in your hands," said Sarah. Her skirts bore prints of wet hands.

"Do you have a pail to put them in?" asked Bel.

"Yes, come see, come see, Auntie Bel," said Kit.

"Well, of course," said Bel, allowing herself to be tugged along by her impatient nephew. "Clever girl," she said to Diana as they reached her.

"Do you think so, Bel? Won't Aunt be livid that I've let them spoil their clothes?"

"She will hardly notice, when you've kept them so happily busy. Do you want to go on? I'll go with them to the frogs."

"Thanks, Bel," said Diana, and turned to the crowd watching the older boys punt.

Nick watched Bel Shaw pass the other women and come down the lawn toward two small children. "Auntie Bel" he heard them call, and saw Bel stoop to listen to whatever they had to say. The three disappeared along a path at the river's edge. If he could follow without his absence being remarked, he might talk to Miss Shaw and win some good opinion from her.

He knew from his meeting with her father the afternoon before that he had been hasty in his judgment of her family. His complaints had nearly choked him in her mother's drawing room he had been so angry, had felt so taken in. But he had returned to Courtland to find the waterwheel already repaired and the work on the stable underway as if nothing untoward had happened. Then Augustus Shaw had appeared. He had patiently examined the damaged timbers and pulley, questioned all the carpenter's men, the master carpenter, Farre, and Nick. The man's thoroughness, his energy and attention, spoke an integrity Nick could not doubt. He did not present the incriminating cap. In light of Mr. Shaw's actions, Nick's anger, vented on a lovely young woman, had seemed a boorish thing. He had had to come tonight, if only to apologize to Miss Shaw.

He turned back to the punting race and found himself obliged to talk to, or rather to listen to, Miss Fletcher, who had appeared at his side. The next time he glanced down the river, he saw Darlington disappear along the path Bel had taken. The other man's manner reminded him of his own lustful thoughts about Miss Shaw, and he considered how to free himself from the company. Just then the punters called for new passengers, and Miss Fletcher and Phillip Shaw pressed forward toward a short dock to join the others. Nick strode purposefully away.

The party on the bank was calling encouragement to the boys in the boats as he reached the turn where the path led through the willows. He hesitated there, considering how foolish he would feel if he came upon Bel Shaw and Darlington in a lovers' embrace, but the recollection of Darlington's predatory look spurred him on.

He had gone but a few steps more when the two children came stumbling along the path, struggling with a pail. They halted abruptly, sloshing water and frogs onto the ground, and looked at him doubtfully, as if they expected some reproof. He realized he was frowning and, softening his look, reached down to retrieve an escaping frog.

"Here," he said, dropping the tiny creature into the pail. "Don't hurry now, or you'll spill them."

Solemn and still, they nodded at him.

"Go on," he said, stepping aside, and they did, obviously relieved to escape him. He followed the path around another bend of the river and heard angry voices above the smooth slipping of the water.

"How dare you, here where you are a guest of the Shaws," he heard Bel say.

"No one will blame me. I've told you before, Bel, our families expect us to make a match. Unless your mother has designs on the earl."

"No one in my family has designs on the earl, and if you are being so unpleasant because you think me enamored of him, you couldn't be more wrong. I never wish to speak to the man again."

"Again, Bel? How often have you seen him since you poached his river?"

"Auggie told you, didn't he?"

"Told me a good bit, but there are things Auggie's too young to see."

"Well, there aren't things that Auggie's too young to see between me and the Earl of Haverly, and whatever I've said to him, I have nothing to say to you, so let me pass."

"Oh, no, Bel, it's time you learned what kissing is and stopped thinking you're different from other girls."

"Darlington, let me go."

At that plea, uttered with sharp urgency, Nick stepped around the curve. Bel and her assailant faced each other where the path had bulged to make a small clearing. Darlington, his feet planted wide, held the struggling Bel about the waist and was attempting to capture her hands while she writhed in his grasp and pummeled his chest with her fists. Her lovely white dress was twisted about her waist and pulled up above her ankles, and Nick was surprised at the strength of his desire to hit Darlington.

"The lady apparently doesn't wish for your attentions, Mr. Darlington," he said, keeping his voice as level and pleasant as he could.

The man whirled, releasing Bel, who stumbled back against the willow branches. Nick looked once at her eyes, which were wide with surprise, anger, and injured pride, and he turned to face Darlington.

"You know her wishes, Haverly?"

"I could not help but overhear her express them quite plainly just now."

"You followed us." Darlington took a belligerent step toward Nick.

"I merely came along the path as anyone might do."

"Well, you'd best turn back and let old friends settle their differences privately."

"I think not," said Nick. The phrase "old friends" might have stopped him but for the look he caught in Bel Shaw's eyes. Darlington's gaze followed his.

"She's been kissed before, Haverly, so you needn't fear for her maidenly sensibilities. She invites it, you know."

"If she invites you to stay, Darlington, I will leave."

"Well, Bel?" Darlington addressed this remark over his shoulder.

"Please go, Mr. Darlington" was the reply. Bel had made no attempt to repair the disorder of her dress, yet she seemed no less the fairy queen.

Darlington turned as if he could not believe what he was hearing. "You can't afford to let me go, Bel," he said.

"Nevertheless, Mr. Darlington, please go." She spoke proudly, her chin lifted, her gaze unyielding.

"You owe me, Bel, and you'll pay. Remember that."

Bel held herself steady. Darlington's threats must be taken seriously, she knew, and she feared that he would turn his resentment against one of her brothers. Gentle Arthur had been Darlington's target before, but even Auggie was not safe from Darlington in one of his savage moods. Still he must see she would not bend on this. Then he laughed.

"At least I mean marriage, Bel. With your hundred pounds a year, you can hardly ask that of Haverly."

Abruptly he turned and strode toward the earl, who stepped aside neatly to let his adversary pass. Darlington could be heard swearing and breaking branches until he passed beyond a curve in the path. Then Bel looked up to find the earl's dark eyes on her. Of all people, to be humiliated before him. Nothing could be more awkward. She was suddenly conscious of the disorder of her person. She could feel wisps of hair about her face, and his gaze made her white gown feel as insubstantial as mist.

When their eyes met, he seemed to recall himself and looked away. "I don't doubt you are surprised by my intervention," he began. "I had no right, but I hope you will accept it as well meant."

Her sense of justice demanded that she thank him, but it was difficult to say the words. "Thank you," she said at last.