The Suitor List (14 page)

"Who might this be?" Miss Skeffington called out,
sounding enchanted, on approaching the pony in the
end stall.

"That is Buttercup," Richard supplied. "My father's
gift to the Worth sisters some years ago."

"But he's much too small for any of you to ride now."

"He's not for riding, he pulls the girls' cart" Richard
left Augusta's side to greet the brown and white pony.

Buttercup nickered at Richard's approach. She had
always liked him, and Augusta suspected he was just as
fond of her.

Glancing outside, Augusta spied the various rigs
owned by the guests: a black Tilbury, two curricles, a
landaulet, and a high-perched green phaeton. Sir Warren's, if Augusta was not mistaken.

She turned to her small, well-worn cart pony and
smiled when a perfectly brilliant idea came to her.

"Yes, Buttercup . .

"A drive in the country! It's a splendid idea, Lady
Augusta." Sir Warren's mood brightened. "I'll have my
phaeton readied at once!"

"I've already sent word" Augusta, in hopes that Sir
Warren would accept her invitation, had retrieved her
bonnet, gloves, and parasol.

"I'll need my hat and coat" He snapped for a footman to relay the message to his man at once before setting off for the stables.

Augusta needed two quick steps to every one of Sir
Warren's long strides to keep up with him. It seemed he
was just as excited for their outing as she. They slowed
nearing the corner of the stable yard, where their transport would be standing ready for them.

"I'll wager I can get my cattle moving at least up
to-" Sir Warren stared at Buttercup harnessed to the
small cart and stopped in his tracks. "Is this some kind
of a joke?"

"It's my pony Buttercup!" Augusta announced with
enthusiasm, tying the ribbons of her bonnet under her
chin. "You've been such a sport to give me a drive nearly
every afternoon while I was in Town, I thought I would
return the favor."

Sir Warren had been struck speechless, and perhaps
by the expression on his face, thoughtless.

"Have no worry, Sir Warren. Buttercup is plenty
strong. She can reliably relay the both of us to the Wild
Rose for a refreshing glass of lemonade."

"Lem-on-ade, you say?" Sir Warren replied weakly.

"He's taken all three of us girls many times, sometimes four of us. There is no need to worry" Augusta
led Sir Warren by the arm toward her cart, climbed in,
and patted the seat beside her. "You may sit right there"

He stepped into the cart and a footman approached
with a coat, a hat, and gloves. The hat Sir Warren placed
upon his head and he accepted the coat and gloves, laying them across his knee.

Augusta put up her parasol and handed it to Sir
Warren. "Hold this for me, please"

The baronet could not have looked any more dismal.

Satisfied that they were ready to depart, Augusta took up the ribbons and called out, "Come on, Buttercup, let's go!"

The pony stepped out of the stable yard, down the
drive, and onto the road. It might have seemed the cart
hit every pebble and hole in the road. Augusta was sure
they could have walked faster than they traveled. She
glanced over at Sir Warren, who, she was fairly certain,
was completely miserable.

After a good half hour she told him, "The Rose is just
around that bend" They hit a large rock that, by Sir Warren's reaction, must have loosened every tooth in his
mouth. Another twenty minutes later she announced,
"There it is!" Augusta pointed to the establishment that
lay far off in the distance. It took another twenty minutes
to arrive.

"Afternoon, milady," Fred, the stable boy, greeted her.

"Good day, Fred. Will you water and watch over
Buttercup for me while we step inside for some lemonade?"

"'Appy to, milady. Just as always."

Augusta led the way into the front door of the Wild
Rose, and a dejected Sir Warren trailed behind her. The
poor man had only lemonade to look forward to instead
of a bracing shot of spirits, which might have given him
the strength to endure the drive home.

The innkeeper placed them in Augusta's usual parlor,
and Sir Warren sat, not bothering to remove his gloves,
coat, or hat.

"It's a simple place, but the staff is friendly and they
serve very nice lemonade-and it's close by" Augusta
smiled in pure delight, for Sir Warren looked miserable. She pulled off her gloves, removed her bonnet, and unbuttoned her pelisse, intending to relax.

"Yes, I can see-" Sir Warren's head made a quick
turn, and his eyes widened as if something had caught
his attention. "Will you excuse me for a few minutes?"

Augusta nodded and set her gloves and bonnet next
to her parasol on a small table. A few minutes went by,
then a few more.

Five minutes after the lemonade and a plate of biscuits had been delivered, Augusta decided not to wait
for him.

Fifteen minutes later she began to wonder where Sir
Warren had gone.

At twenty-five minutes, after she had finished her
glass of lemonade, she moved from the table and ventured out of the parlor.

Toward the back of the establishment, behind the two
closed doors, Augusta spotted Sir Warren, well occupied with a handful of cards in his left hand, and in the
background she heard a roar from a group of gentlemen
after the distinct crack of dice.

With his hat off, it seemed as if he were planning
to remain far longer than he'd planned to remain in
Augusta's company. She gathered her things, settled
her bill, and stepped into her awaiting cart.

"Walk on, Buttercup," she called to the pony, clucked
her tongue, and smiled as they left for home.

Bet a guinea, get a guinea!" Sir Nicholas Petersham
stood before his bright yellow phaeton, calling out to
the other gentlemen gathering around him.

Through her opera glasses from the window of the
Librarium, Muriel watched the local baronet and the
group of male guests gathering around him.

"We each set a Golden Boy on the dash. If you can
reach them in seven seconds, you can have them both!"

"I'm game, old man!" called out Lord Stanton, who
stood off to one side, but where Muriel could see his
face clearly.

Both gentlemen climbed onto the rig and seated
themselves. Sir Nicholas held up his golden coin, then
set it on the custom-built tray before them with great
flourish. Lord Stanton dug in his vest pocket and pulled
out his guinea, placing it next to the first coin.

"Seven seconds!" Sir Nicholas warned Lord Stanton,
waving his whip in the air. "Ready, steady-go!" He
cracked the whip and yelled, urging his team onward.

"What's going on?" Young Mr. Lloyd stepped into
the Librarium in time to see Lord Stanton thrown back
onto the seat of the vehicle. He leaned forward, stretching out his arm but was held back a good ten seconds.

By the exchanged glances among the throng of waiting gentlemen, they found the feat difficult to believeeven though they had seen it with their own eyes.

"What are you two looking at?" Charlotte, who must
have been passing by, entered the room. She gazed out
the window, observing what held Muriel's and Mr.
Lloyd's attention. "Eavesdropping again, are you, Moo?"

"There goes Lord Tremaine!" Muriel announced.
Charlotte and Mr. Lloyd stared as the yellow phaeton
shot away from the gathered gentlemen and, for a second time, streaked down the drive.

"They each set a guinea on the tray before them,"
Muriel explained. "If the passenger can reach them during the first seven seconds of the ride, they are allowed to
keep them both"

"Seems simple enough" Mr. Lloyd shrugged.

"With Sir Nicholas involved, I suspect some duplicity," Charlotte replied.

"Exactly," Muriel concurred. "And I fully expect
everyone loses" She looked to Mr. Lloyd. "Do you happen to have a guinea I could borrow? I'll be happy to return it to you in a few minutes."

Mr. Lloyd checked his pockets, finally pulled out a
coin, and held it out to her.

"Thank you" She took the guinea and handed Charlotte her opera glasses. "Mind these while I'm away,
will you?" Muriel stepped from the window and out of
the room.

"What is she going to do?" Mr. Lloyd did not know
Muriel well, and Charlotte imagined it might shock
him to learn what she was capable of.

"I expect she's about to challenge Sir Nicholas."

"She can't do that-she'll lose for certain." Mr. Lloyd
retrieved the opera glasses from Charlotte to better
watch the commotion below.

"Do not be so sure, Mr. Lloyd. Moo is very clever."

Holding the glasses to his eyes, Mr. Lloyd did his
best to narrate what he saw below. "There she is. She's
speaking to Sir Nicholas ... I don't know exactly what.
The men seem to be taken aback by her presence. Now
they are laughing."

"They're laughing at Moo?" Charlotte could not
imagine her younger sister allowing that to happen.

"No, wait. I think they're laughing at Sir Nicholas."
Mr. Lloyd shook his head, apparently uncertain. "I cannot discern which ... I wish I knew what they were
saying."

"Muriel has mastered that particular skill quite well."

"At the moment, I'm thinking I'd best spend some
time learning it myself." Once again he focused on the
events before them. "I don't think Sir Nicholas wants
her to participate, and she does not appear to be giving
up the idea very easily. It seems she is being quite stubborn"

If only her sister could limit herself to merely stubborn. Sir Nicholas could not know how persistent Muriel
could prove. Did he even suspect she would eventually
achieve her end?

"Ah, success! Look there." Charlotte pointed out Muriel stepping into the rig-being hoisted into was a
more apt description-and Sir Nicholas climbing in
after her.

"I cannot believe this." The opera glasses remained
fixed before Mr. Lloyd's eyes.

Cheering from the onlookers accompanied the customary laying down of coins. Even from the Librarium,
Charlotte could hear the shouts up until the moment the
phaeton sped away.

The cheering stopped. The gentlemen stood quiet.

"What's happened?" Mr. Lloyd searched the immediate area for signs of the outcome. "I can't tell."

"I know what's happened" Charlotte smiled with full
confidence in her sister.

A few minutes later the yellow phaeton returnedwithout Muriel, and the men cheered again.

"Where has she gone?" Mr. Lloyd again searched the
area below.

Muriel stepped into the room, reappearing behind
them, all smiles, holding up a guinea.

"Thank you, Mr. Lloyd" She held out her left palm,
returning his coin. Muriel held up a second guinea in
her right hand. "Now I have one too!"

Augusta left Buttercup and the cart at the stables and
came striding down the corridor of Faraday Hall with
purpose.

"Huxley," she called out while untying the ribbons of
her bonnet.

"My lady?" the butler replied, coming to her side for
further instruction.

"When Sir Warren returns, whenever that may be, he
is to leave at once"

"I will inform his valet to prepare for their departure." Huxley bowed and set off to deliver the message.

"Thank you." Standing there for a moment, Augusta
stared at the two orange trees flanking the arched window. Each bore only three fruit. She hadn't remembered
them looking so bare.

Glancing around, she could not imagine where everyone had gone. Charlotte, Muriel, Mrs. Parker, the ladies,
the gentlemen guests ... amusing themselves somewhere, no doubt. Determined to join them in whatever
activities they had chosen to occupy their time, Augusta
first headed abovestairs to change her clothes.

Not two minutes after her abigail Lydia finished
touching up Augusta's hair, there was a hurried knock
at the door and Charlotte and Muriel entered the bedchamber.

"Char-Char and I have decided, Gusta," Muriel
stated straightaway.

"Decided what, pray tell?" Augusta regarded her
profile in the glass and moved the curled tendrils away
from her face.

"You cannot settle upon Fieldstone," Charlotte informed her.

"Even Char-Char believes he is deadly flat," Muriel
added.

Augusta's severe gaze darted to the middle sister,
who stood composed. "Char-Char, how could you say
such a thing?"

"That is not what I meant ... not precisely," she con fessed. "I merely wondered about his ability to see the
humor in any situation ... especially amusing ones.
Although he does not seem to find much of anything to
laugh at-for I have not observed him to even smile." It
did not seem as if Charlotte were jesting in the least.
"He appears to be awfully serious, Gusta. Do you think
Viscount Fieldstone is able to laugh?"

"He is dull beyond belief!" Muriel interjected with a
loud groan. "That man does not find humor in any situation! And Char-Char is correct. I cannot say I have ever
seen him share in any of the amusements with the other
gentlemen, not once. He did not even smile when he
learned of the dismissal of several competitors that first
night."