Tabitha's Folly Page 7

  Edward cleared his throat. “You could of course do that, and one of us will accompany.” He paused before he looked up.

  Henry stiffened for a moment, then relaxed. “You feel the need to chaperone her when I am present.”

  Edward watched him, measuring. “I do.”

  Tabitha placed her hand on his arm. “Surely such a thing is not necessary.”

  “I believe it is.”

  Henry’s face clouded. “We need to discuss this.”

  “We do.”

  Henry nodded and then winked at Tabitha, which settled some of her angst. He turned to leave the conservatory just as Oscar and Lady Summers approached.

  Lady Summers pouted. “Oh where is Lord Courteney going?”

  When no one answered, she turned to Oscar. “Would you mind accompanying me to breakfast?”

  “Certainly, my lady.” He stretched his hand forward, indicating she lead the way. Then he turned to Edward. “Just tell me where you most need me.”

  When Tabitha and Edward were at last alone, Edward spoke first. “Tabby.” He took her hand in his. “I know this is all one big frustration for you.”

  She sighed. “Most of the time, yes. I feel you are more strict than father would have been.”

  “I feel the need to caution you.”

  His tone sounded wary. She sucked in her breath, waiting.

  “About Henry.”

  Indignation rose inside her, fear that he might squelch whatever emotion Henry was feeling for her. “Edward, really.”

  “His intentions toward you are unclear. He has not spoken with me, and yet he is behaving as if he would court you.” He rubbed his forehead and then pinched the bridge of his nose. “At least it appears that way. At times.”

  An anxious feeling grew inside. “I know! He seems so fickle, one moment holding my hand, the next completely ignoring me, and the next escorting ladies through the conservatory. What am I to think?”

  “And your feelings? Are they engaged?”

  Her eyes found the floor. She didn’t know what to tell him, how much to reveal. If he knew, would he further curtail their activities?

  He was silent for a moment. “Tabby?” When she didn’t respond, he cleared his throat. “We all love Henry. He is like a brother. But I had never considered him as anything but my best friend, until he held your hand in church. And when I saw that…”

  She looked up.

  His eyes held pain. “I didn’t like it.”

  Her heart sank. How could he not approve of Henry? She summoned her courage. “I can think of no better man than Henry. We have known him our whole lives. He has never behaved in any manner less than honorable.” Her eyes welled with unshed tears, and she clenched her fists, mortified to be bearing even that small part of herself.

  His eyes widened. “Your tendre for him is stronger than I realized.”

  She felt her face heat; then she nodded. “I have admired him since I was a young girl.”

  Edward's eyes bore into hers, his sincerity obvious. “We don’t know his intentions. He has not approached me, and that gives me pause.” He placed a hand at the side of her face. “His feelings may not be engaged.”

  Her brother’s worried expression and his desire to shield her from hurt combined as evidence of Henry’s uncaring. A lump grew in her throat. If Henry were interested, would he not have expressed as much to Edward? She didn’t know if she could stand more disappointment. She looked away from Edward, and then her lips started to tremble and her eyes as well. She didn’t want Edward to see how much she hurt, how poignantly she longed for his best friend, so she ran from her brother, towards the back of the conservatory.

  Henry left, but soon returned, determined to speak with Edward as soon as possible. His best friend deserved to know his changing feelings, even if Edward may at first disapprove. Henry was determined to win him over, make him see reason. He stepped into the room, and then backed into the shadows of a tree. Edward stood with his hand on Tabby’s cheek, deep in conversation. His words carried over. “His feelings might not be engaged.” A sick feeling of dread chilled him. Tabby wilted in front of her brother and, shortly after, ran off toward the back of the conservatory.

  He stomped forward. “Edward!” His voice surprised him at its sharpness. As soon as he was close enough to speak in hushed undertones, he continued, “How dare you speak of my feelings to Tabby. You have no idea.”

  His eyes sharpened. “You are correct. What exactly are your intentions where my sister is concerned?”

  Henry stood taller. “I have not approached you about my intentions, because I haven’t known what they are.”

  “And that is exactly why I thought to give Tabby a warning. You wish to engage Tabitha’s heart while you are, as yet, uncertain of your intentions.”

  “Do you not trust me?”

  “No, I don’t trust you.” His expression did not waver. “And further, it pains me to say it, but I am hesitant about your suitability.”

  Hurt and anger tremored through him. “How can you say that? Your own best friend isn’t good enough for her?”

  “Not with your reformist activities. No one wants to be tied to a Whig, Henry. What will this do to her standing? Her friends?”

  “Can she not have a say in the matter?”

  “Of course she can. But I have seen only confusion and hurt in her eyes where you are concerned.”

  Henry paused. With great sorrow, he felt the truth of Edward’s words barrel into his chest. He cleared his throat, his mouth turning down. “May I work to show her I can bring peace and happiness?” His voice cracked. “Do I have your permission to try?”

  Edward crossed his arms. “You may try. With sufficient chaperones. Obviously a brother will always be present.”

  “Present is acceptable; hovering is ridiculous.”

  “You didn’t think it was so ridiculous when you were hovering.”

  “Well, now it’s different.” Henry tried to stem his exasperation. He couldn’t lose patience with Edward, even if he was his best friend and, in any other situation, might have pounded it out of him by now.

  “To me things are unchanged as far as her protection is concerned.”

  A burst of air escaped Henry's lips, and he stopped many thoughts from being vocalized. “So be it.” He walked in the direction Tabby had gone.

  “Where are you going?”

  “You’ve hurt her, leading her to believe me uncaring. I can’t stand the thought that I have been the cause of anything but happiness in her.”

  Edward’s eyes lit. “You do care.”

  Henry turned to fully face him, staring into Edward’s eyes. “Of course I do. You’re dense not to see it.”

  Edward nodded. “Ten minutes.” As Henry picked up his pace to follow Tabitha, Edward called out, “But don’t be too comforting.”

  Henry laughed and ran down a path through the trees.

  Her slippers had left soft footmarks in the dirt path, and he moved through the conservatory quickly, anxious to at last declare himself. He hoped to find her and clear up any concern she had regarding his feelings. He would replace every worried and anxious expression with one of supreme happiness. Then her giggle stopped him short. He jerked to a stop at the scene before him.

  “Thank you, Damen. I cannot tell you how comforting to me you have been.”

  Henry pushed through the remaining bushes and clenched his fists. Tabitha sat next to Damen on a bench beneath a flowering arbor. She had a flower behind her ear. Their happy scene was just what he had hoped to produce, and waves of disappointment, jealousy, dislike and distrust flowed through him. “What is this?”

  He sounded like Edward. But it couldn’t be helped. Nothing appropriate was happening here.

  Tabitha startled, and the embarrassment that crossed her face made him cringe. This is not how he hoped she would see him. He must stop the role of chaperone in her life.

  He approached. “Thank you Damen, that will be all.” />
  She gasped, and Damen stiffened in his seat. But none of the discomfort in this moment could be helped. The footman must be reminded of his place. He should be standing when with Tabitha. And he should have stood upon Henry’s approach.

  Slowly—agonizingly slowly—Damen rose, bowed to Henry, then turned and did something with his face that made Tabitha smile, before walking away in a stiff, proper footman gait.

  Henry turned to her, filled with anticipation for a moment alone with Tabby.

  “How could you?”

  He sputtered to a stop. “What?”

  “How could you do that to Damen—treat him like that?”

  “What are you talking about? I treat him better than any other servant here.”

  “But he’s Damen.”

  The significance of that was totally lost on him.

  “He…he is my friend.”

  Henry regretted his callousness but felt she should be reminded of few things. “Tabby, this is the second time you are found alone with this footman. What if anyone else had discovered you?”

  “I didn’t plan it. I never plan it. But he happens upon me when I need a friend.” Her eyes lifted to his and held such a sadness, he wished to wipe it completely away.

  He indicated the spot on the bench beside her. "May I?”

  When she nodded, he sat beside her. “I just think he needs to understand his place. You have given him liberties.”

  She was about to protest.

  “Innocent liberties, naturally, but he might be harboring expectations.”

  She frowned but did not respond. He thought it a good sign; hopefully she was considering his comments with the weight they deserved.

  He moved closer. “I only have a few moments.”

  She turned from him. “Sorry to keep you.”

  “No, that’s not what I meant. Edward agreed to let me come.”

  She turned to him in surprise. “Did he?” Her eyes held such renewed hope, it gave him courage.

  She swallowed and narrowed the distance more. “Have you spoken to him about anything?”

  Henry reached for her hand. This was not the moment for his declaration. What would he say to her? “Perhaps you’ve noticed a change in my behavior.”

  Her eyes turned wary. This wasn’t going how he’d planned. Dash that footman.

  “What I mean is, our waltz, it was lovely. Holding you was…”

  Her cheeks turned the brightest red.

  Oh dash it all. I’ve embarrassed her.

  Now was not the time. “Tabitha. I just want you to know, I am here for you. Always. Whatever you find in that footman, you have in those all around you who care.”

  Her eyes dropped.

  Then he gently tugged at her glove, revealing her soft bare skin. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her first knuckle. “And not in a brotherly manner as I always have.” He moved his lips to her second knuckle. “Things are different now, with me.” He searched her face. Then placed one more kiss on the third knuckle. “See. I’ve never done that before.”

  She shook her head.

  He turned her hand over and found the softness on her wrist. “Or this.” He brought it up to his mouth, her fluttering heartbeat racing under his lips. He lingered for a moment then squeezed her hand in his own. “Do you understand?”

  She closed her mouth and nodded. “I think so.”

  Henry searched her face. Her eyes held such a light, a happiness; her hope had returned. He ran the back of his hand along her cheek. Her exquisitely soft skin warmed him at his center. He drank in the hope in her eyes that he had ignited. “You’re happy.”

  “I am, in this moment.”

  "I wish for you forever to be so." He reveled in the precious few minutes remaining, committing to bring Tabitha Easton years of uninterrupted happiness.

  10

  Stolen Moments

  Henry’s fishing line floated along the water, no fish in sight. His eyes sought the shoreline. Again. “Look at them.”

  Oscar grunted. “I feel at times I am competing with Damen, even though he is a footman.”

  Henry cast his line out again. “I can only agree with you there. It is uncanny how he draws their attention.” He did not trust Damen. No one else seemed to see it, but Henry knew something was not right.

  Tauney grinned. “They do make a magnificent sight though, don’t they?” He gestured to the line of pretty gowns, sitting about on chairs, with easels to their front. Tauney’s gaze lingered longer in a certain direction. His soft sigh told Henry he had not yet recovered from whatever had gone wrong with Miss Anne. Henry turned to look at the shoreline more fully. They were a beautiful sight. Each lady had a paintbrush or charcoal lifted to her canvas while studying Damen in repose.

  Oscar’s line tugged. “I’ve got one!”

  Tauney and Henry groaned. Oscar had a gift at excelling in everything. And today, it grated.

  Oscar urged the fish closer to the boat. “I suspect Tabby is not drawing Damen.”

  Oscar surprised him. Henry asked, “What makes you think so?”

  Tauney gripped his shoulder, holding his gaze. “Because her heart is engaged elsewhere.”

  If anyone knew Tabby’s heart, it was Tauney.

  Henry’s heart filled with hope. “And what do you think of that?” He looked from Oscar to Tauney.

  “We support you.” Oscar pulled on his string. “Edward is daft to think there is anyone better suited for our family than you.”

  Henry sat taller in the boat. He knew she was affected by him, but how serious were her intentions? Why would she never admit to having any? “We have been friendly for so long, acting like family already, it is difficult to read her feelings, I will admit.”

  Oscar paused, ignoring his fish. “How engaged are your own feelings?”

  Henry knew he was asking with sincerity. Oscar deserved an answer, so Henry tried again to sort out his thoughts. “I admit to arriving at this awareness slowly. I didn’t know myself how I felt about her. But these past few days, I find my heart so engaged, my feelings so captured, that I am seriously considering joining the Easton family, officially.” He eyed them both with a touch of nervousness. “If you’ll have me.”

  “Capital!” Oscar leaned over, the boat wobbling precariously in the water, and shook Henry’s hand. “I will support you in your efforts.”

  “As will I.” Tauney put his arm around Henry’s shoulders. “I don’t think Tabby could be happy with anyone else.”

  Henry filled with a sense of pride at this disclosure. He thought of her smile, not the polite one, the one that filled her face and lit her eyes. He wanted to see it again. Not smiling at Reginald or the footman, but at him, because he had done something to put it there.

  Even with her brothers’ assurances, Edward’s words rang in his ears. “I have seen only confusion and hurt in her eyes where you are concerned.” Could Henry make her happy?

  Her laugh carried out to him over the water. His eyes searched the grass and could not determine the cause, but he suspected Damen was involved.

  Tabitha giggled. Damen had been employed to hold the bowl of fruit they were to draw. His face a mask, the only indication it might not be a favorable pastime was the occasional clenching of his jaw.

  The ladies, intent upon their subject, likely cared little for the fruit.

  She chose, instead, an image from memory. The Easton estate and a man on horseback on the crest of a hill in the distance. Henry. But no one would know it was him.

  As she drew his lines, the erect way he sat upon Starling, his stallion, she puzzled over his behavior. His new attention, the fiery light in his eyes, the thrills inside her whenever he came near.

  On the last few strokes of her work, the men came back from fishing. Oscar of course had caught several large fish and boasted to all who would listen.

  Her breath caught as Henry approached. She left her easel uncovered and wondered if he would guess her subject.

&nbs
p; She packed her things as slowly as possible, watching him approach. His tall form moved with such a fluid grace, she admired his every step. As soon as his shadow blocked the sun, she stood. Henry leaned forward and spoke in her ear. “Hello, Tabby.”

  She relished the gooseflesh that ran up her arms. “Hello.” The sun too bright to look up into his face, she turned her attention to the lake. “The view is splendid.”

  “I will miss it, I think. Come, let's see what you've drawn.”

  She quietly waited while he inspected her work. “But this is home, isn’t it? The view from your house out the west side.”

  Pleased, she warmed toward him and the familiarity he had with her home. “I’ve done it justice then.”

  He nodded. “You have.” He peered closer; then his eyes flicked to hers. “Is that”—He reached for her hand—“Starling?”

  She felt her face heat but would not look away. Taking a deep breath, she searched for courage. “It is. A day last spring you were taking an early ride.”

  “You’ve painted it from memory, even the white star on his left leg.” He stepped closer and reached for her other hand. “And my hat, tilted just the way I wear it.” His eyes searched her face. “You noticed me, even then.”

  She nodded, trying to breathe. Her fear of disclosing even that caused her knees to tremble.

  “Have I been blind?”

  She swallowed. “I don’t know.” She cleared her throat. “I will admit to wondering.” She looked down. “At times.”

  He placed her hand on his arm. “Shall we go for a walk?”

  She thrilled at the feel of his strong arm beneath her hand. “I’d like that.”

  “Will your art be well enough out here? Or shall we attend to it?” He rested a hand atop hers. “I’d not wish to lose that piece.”

  She smiled. “The servants will attend to it.”

  As Henry led the way, her heart fluttered at his nearness. She tried to slow her breathing, to be calm, so as not to scare him away. They walked in the direction of the rose garden.

  “I saw a beautiful rose bloom this morning; I thought you particularly might enjoy.”