Chapter Ten

Fortunately, Allegra’s headache never materialised, and they had arrived home from their entertainment at a reasonable hour since the planned trip to Wandle Park was to take place the following day.

Mother Nature finally offered abundant warm spring sunshine, and it was a merry group that assembled in two carriages outside Bridgeford House.

Gloriana, with her customary social finesse, managed to occupy Lord Allenbridge’s carriage, and appeared only slightly put out to learn that they would not be alone as Grace neatly inserted herself and Angus Redfearn into the same conveyance along with the refreshment hamper.

That left Allegra, Penelope, Sir Vivian, and Nigel Jameson, to fill the second carriage. Nigel told them that the Rajah was already at Wandle and would meet them there.

The trip began in amazingly good time, allowing for the flutterings and fussings of several ladies most conscious of their delightful spring dresses.

Allegra had risen early, and a look at the morning sky had told the country girl in her that the day would be hot. She had selected one of her newest and prettiest ensembles, made of lightweight muslin that almost floated around her. It would be delightfully cool.

The creamy yellow flattered her colouring and was accented by scarlet roses clustered at the high waist. Ribbons of the same shade fell to her toes and were also threaded through the lace that edged the neckline and short sleeves. A hat of pale straw completed her toilette.

Although she’d wondered about this particular hat, which featured a somewhat larger brim than was fashionable, Allegra felt it would be perfect for shading her face and had loved the confection of roses and ribbons that surrounded the crown.

A glow of satisfaction ran through her as she surveyed her reflection in the mirror. Finally, she felt her appearance was just right, and it was with a confident step that she left Bridgeford House for Wandle Park.

The twins had chosen their favourite blues for the picnic.

Grace wore a soft grey-blue pastel muslin and Penelope’s was the colour of forget-me-nots. Both girls had wisely brought shady bonnets, and the ribbons fluttered in the breeze as the party trotted away from London and out into the country lanes.

Gloriana, scorning the hats of her companions, had affixed a large knot of emerald green ribbons into her hair and carried a small lace parasol trimmed with them. Allegra had noticed the milkiness of Gloriana’s complexion—a lot of it was revealed by the low neckline of her pale green silk gown—and wondered if such colouring would survive the trip to Wandle in an open carriage under a hot sun.

The miles flew quickly by thanks to Nigel, who was apparently on his best behaviour, and Vivian who was always a pleasant companion.

Allegra resolved to simply enjoy the day.

She would put aside her worries about her confused state of mind for the few hours they were in the country. In fact, she felt rather relieved that Pip was not in the carriage since she was finding his presence much too distracting.

The gentlemen were on their best behaviour and several times the sound of laughter rang out disturbing birds from their nests in the hedgerows and causing the occupants of the other vehicle to turn their heads in curiosity.

“I declare...how charming to be able to find so much that is amusing,” said Gloriana dryly, after a burst of hilarity from behind them.

“I expect Sir Vivian is telling them some of his funny stories,” Grace replied with a smile. “He has so very many, you know, and can tell them in just such a way as to make you quite breathless to hear the end—which is always surprising. Do you remember, Mr. Redfearn, the one he told...” Turning to Angus, she began to reminisce.

Under cover of the conversation, Gloriana turned to Pip.

“I compliment you, my Lord...” She spoke in a low tone, not meant for other ears. “Your nieces are so delightful. They must be a constant joy.”

Pip bowed his head slightly in acknowledgement, conscious of Gloriana’s silken skirts fluttering annoyingly round his knees.

“...And how fortunate that Lady Falworth was able to chaperone them. I believe you mentioned she was a relative of yours?”

Pip, who knew damn well he’d said no such thing, smiled noncommittally, which appeared to satisfy Gloriana.

“Were there to be a Lady Allenbridge, I suppose she would assume the duties of chaperone?” The knees beneath the fluttering skirts drew nearer to Pip.

“We are all enjoying the Season with Lady Falworth,” he stated evenly.

“Of course, of course...I couldn’t agree more... She is most delightful.”

She paused for a dramatic moment. “Which is why I was quite incensed to hear some unflattering comments about her the other night.” Gloriana’s expression managed to reflect concerned outrage.

Pip tried manfully to stifle his rising curiosity about this conversation, knowing that any interest on his part would encourage Gloriana. Unfortunately he found himself very unwilling to change the subject.

“I hope it was not wrong of me to defend your cousin—” The knees were now definitely pressing against him, “but when I heard that she was supposed to have presided over some rather scandalous goings-on, I couldn’t help but rush to her defence. I told the old gossip that Lord Allenbridge would never entrust his beloved nieces to anyone who would betray that trust and that was sufficient for me and everyone else with any sensibility.”

“Are we all full of sensibility?” asked Grace. She had unwittingly eavesdropped on the last portions of Gloriana’s conversation.

“Yes, and “Sense” too, I hope...” added Angus.

A general smile was shared at Angus’ reference to one of Miss Austen’s much-loved novels, and the conversation moved on to other subjects, leaving Pip to digest Gloriana’s words.

As the others chatted about the latest books, he reviewed all he knew of Allegra.

That she had been the wife of a lecherous debaucher was a fact. That she might have participated in his revels was unthinkable. One look into those honest eyes and any person of discrimination would know immediately that Allegra was no Abbess or fallen woman.

There had been some vague rumours of Charles Falworth’s involvement with an anti-Royalist organisation of dubious membership and questionable associations, recalled Pip. Some said French money was behind it, others that it was simply a group of indolent idiots with more money than sense.

Again, one look into Allegra’s eyes would convince anyone that she could not have known about, let alone been a part of, such activities.

How was he so sure?

Pip couldn’t identify a single concrete fact that he could have put forward as proof. But he knew, as certainly as he knew the sun would rise on the morrow, that Allegra was innocent of her late husband’s wrongdoings.

This inner sense of certainty had served Pip well in the past and he saw no reason to question it now, even though a small voice was whispering that this time he was not thinking as much with his mind as with other parts of his body. He firmly told the small voice to go away and leave him alone.

His feelings about Allegra were rather muddled at the moment, he knew, and he certainly didn’t intend to pick at them in a carriage with Gloriana Jameson snuggled up to his arm.

But he acknowledged a distinct lurch in the area of his chest at the thought that someone had maligned Allegra. He barely suppressed a growl, and the protective urge he felt surging within him caught him completely by surprise.

The constant pressure on his knee suddenly lessened and Pip’s attention was redirected back into the carriage. Gloriana had moved away from him—an unusual incident in itself—and was leaning against the cushions with her eyes closed. A flush of red was beginning to diffuse her pale cheeks, and she held the flimsy parasol above her head to provide what shade she could.

A glance at Grace’s worried face confirmed his suspicions.

“Miss Jameson—you are not well...” It was a statement of fact at this point.

“Gloriana—here, take this fan—Uncle Pip, change places with me, would you?” asked Grace, reaching for Gloriana’s damp hand.

“So sorry...” moaned the unfortunate Beauty. “The heat...I don’t know how you can stand it...” She shot a venomous glance at Grace, who remained cool and poised at her side.

“Should we stop, Uncle Pip?” Grace delicately dabbed Gloriana’s brow with cool water from the bottle in the picnic hamper.

He glanced at their surroundings and then his pocket watch. “We’re less than fifteen minutes from Wandle Park. I would think that Miss Jameson would be best served by us getting her into a cool room there as soon as possible,” answered Pip logically.

“How kind you are, my Lord,” whispered Gloriana. “My susceptibility to the heat has caught up with me. A few moments in the cool and I shall be as right as a trivet.”

“If she knew she suffered from the heat, why the blazes didn’t she use a closed carriage?” whispered Angus. “I know those of us with red hair can be laid low by too much sunshine, but we generally acknowledge that fact and work around it.”

Pip glanced at Angus, whose tightly woven straw hat cast a deep shadow across his features and onto his light summer jacket.

“You, my friend, are not a woman,” offered Pip, by way of explanation.

“Thank God.” The answer erupted from beside him, bringing a grin of genuine amusement to Pip’s lips. He signalled for the driver to increase his pace and was pleased to see the horses respond.

The occupants of the second carriage quickly realised that all was not well and made haste to follow, arriving at the imposing entrance to Wandle Park just moments behind.

Nigel jumped down without ceremony and ran to his sister’s side.

“It’ s the heat, isn’t it?” he said, after one look at his sister’s wilting demeanour. “I’ll get Mrs. Partridge...” He hurried past the butler into the hall.

Lord Allenbridge marshalled the rest of the party into some kind of order, and then assisted Gloriana from her carriage.

Unwell though she was, she still seemed to show a distinct ability to locate and lean on the strong arm of his Lordship.

The shadowed coolness of the large hall was most welcome to them all, and Nigel returned promptly as they entered with an efficient-looking housekeeper hot on his heels.

“Now Miss Gloriana, you’ve gone and done it again, haven’t you?” The scold came as the woman took one look at the wilted girl in front of her. “Like as not you’ve given yourself a migraine too, I’ll be bound. You’ll be good for naught this day, young Miss.”

Whether in frustration or genuine distress, this comment caused Gloriana to moan softly and crumple away in a silken swoon.

She did, however, manage to swoon conveniently towards Lord Allenbridge. Sadly, this was not the most propitious move, since he had chosen that exact moment to step toward a particularly fine painting of the house.

Gloriana had clearly misjudged her distances, because instead of subsiding comfortably into Pip’s arms, she subsided noisily onto a wooden footstool and a set of large andirons, which were standing decoratively next to a tall stone column.

The poker, never the most stable of implements, immediately fell on to Gloriana’s head with a resounding thwack that brought a wince of sympathy to Allegra’s face.

“Well, if she didn’t have a migraine before, she’s certainly got one now,” whispered Penelope sotto voce.

Allegra quickly turned away to hide a very improper snicker and caught Pip biting his lip in similar straits.

Luckily, fate and Nigel Jameson spared her from further embarrassment.

“Look, I’m awfully sorry about all this, but I’ll have to see Gloriana settled and call for our physician and so on. Mrs. Partridge and I can take care of everything, but I’ll have to ask your pardon and leave you to your own devices for a while. There should be refreshments on the South Terrace which is through there...”

He nodded toward a large set of double doors. “And you can wander through Wandle. Family joke, y’know—I’ll join you when I can?”

Admiring his common sense, and a little surprised at how efficient this side of Nigel Jameson could be, Allegra immediately reassured him.

“We will be perfectly fine, Sir Nigel. Please do all that is necessary for your sister, and don’t worry about us at all.”

He reached out his hand and grasped hers for a moment, under cover of the bustle of getting Gloriana to her room. “This is not what I wanted for today, you know,” he commented quietly.

“I understand,” answered Allegra simply. “But perhaps these things happen for a reason. Go and take care of Gloriana, my friend.” She gently squeezed his hand as she said the last two words.

A shadow passed over Nigel’s face, but he released her and turned away.

“The heat seems to be affecting everyone,” came a dry voice in Allegra’s ear. “Do you care for some cool lemonade on the terrace?”

Allegra looked Lord Allenbridge straight in the eye.

I could never imagine him touching me. Only you.

“I find this weather delightful, my Lord, and am quite distressed that it has prevented us from enjoying the company of both our host and hostess. However, now you come to mention it, a glass of something cool would be wonderful. Shall we, girls?” She looked over her shoulder at the twins as she took Pip’s arm and headed back outside.

Upon reaching their destination, they realised that the terrace was already occupied.

“Greetings to the weary travellers, and welcome.”

A figure in glittering silk stood and bowed low to the entering party. “One of you is unwell, but it must be the lovely Gloriana. I see the auras around all of you glow with health.”

The Rajah Gupil waved his hand to the chairs and refreshment table that had been set up under a wisteria trellis. The fragrance of the long purple flowers that were just coming into bloom made Allegra’s senses swim and she unconsciously held Pip’s arm a little tighter.

He glanced down at her, then bent close to her ear. “If you’re going to faint, let me get you over to that serving table, at least.” His whispered breath caressed the delicate skin of her lobe. “It’s loaded with silverware which will make a most satisfying crash and I don’t see any andirons out here at all.”

His unexpected comment surprised a gurgle of laughter from her and cleared her head completely, although his nearness left a prickling on her neck.

The Jamesons were obviously accustomed to guests at Wandle, since the tables were laden with an assortment of delicacies and tidbits guaranteed to tempt the appetites of the weariest travelers.

The Rajah had modestly selected a small plate of fruit and some lemonade that he professed would be all that he would require in the way of sustenance until the evening. “We of the East feed our bodies and minds more simply.”

He glanced around him. “Our abundance of fresh fruits and the beauties of nature provide more than adequate sustenance. We find that just the looking at a mountain or the listening to a songbird is as fulfilling as the mighty feast.”

The Rajah’s hoarse voice ceased as he bit into a pear and gazed out over Wandle Park. “See how the wondrous colors here flood the eyes of us poor mortals?” He waved his hand expansively, showering droplets of pear juice over the terrace flagstones.

Allegra, who had seated herself as far away from the Rajah as possible, found that in spite of her dislike of the man, she was compelled to agree with his sentiments on this occasion, anyway.

Wandle Park was truly spectacular. Stretching away from where they sat on the terrace was a soft green lawn, tended to within an inch of its life. Dotted here and there were chestnut trees, just coming into bloom, and casting deep pools of shade with their luxuriant dense leaves. The lawn sloped down and away from the house and where it ended, the first splashes of colour began. Masses of ancient rhododendrons edged the lawn and beckoned the visitor to wander the paths they made.

Allegra could see pinks, whites, and lavenders from where she sat, and knew that it must be incredible to see them up close. Her feet itched to explore.

“...And I hear that our own Lady Falworth is blessed with one of these special creatures.” The Rajah’s comment intruded on Allegra’s reverie.

“Really, Cousin Allegra? Do you know of a rare bird?” asked Penelope.

Allegra restrained the impulse to gape. She didn’t have the faintest idea what her companions were talking about.

“I have to apologise...my mind was over with the rhododendrons. What exactly are we discussing?”

“Rare and beautiful birds, Cousin,” explained Grace. “The Rajah has been studying our birds here in England. Did you know that there are seventeen varieties of woodpecker?”

Allegra turned her gaze to the Rajah.

“It is the most interesting study, Lady,” he said. “And I have found that your very own Falworth Manor is in the area where there have been sightings of the great tufted kingfisher—once a popular bird, but unfortunately, too much wanted for the feathers by Henry VIII and all his many ladies. Now, there are only a few. You have seen them, yes?”

The Rajah awaited Allegra’s reply with what she felt was inordinate interest.

“I’m afraid you are under a misapprehension, sir,” she said carefully. “Falworth Manor is the property of Lord Falworth, cousin to my late husband. I have not been there in over five years, and during the time when I was in residence, I regret that I do not recall seeing a bird that might fit the title of tufted kingfisher.”

“Great tufted kingfisher...Lady...very blue and striking with a call like—like a cat?”

“No, I’m sorry,” said Allegra firmly. She wished he’d get away from the entire subject of kingfishers, tufted or otherwise.

“Well...” interjected Lord Allenbridge. “I propose we venture out to feast on the beauties here at Wandle. If we’re all refreshed?” He rose from the table to Allegra’s relief.

She practically jumped out of her chair. “What a splendid notion,” she endorsed enthusiastically. “Come on, girls—let’s go and see if those gorgeous flowers are even better close up.”

Penelope and Grace rose obediently.

“Ladies will find the croquet game over there.” The Rajah pointed to a side lawn where dense trees shaded a set of hoops stuck into the ground at irregular intervals.

“Oh how lovely...,” said Penelope.

“Would you mind, Cousin? I have been itching to teach Mr. Angus the finer points of croquet.” Grace’s eyes were pleading.

“And I want to see if I can return the drubbing Sir Vivian gave us last time we played...” laughed Penelope.

“It wasn’t a drubbing, Miss Penelope,” protested Vivian. “More a victory of experience over youth,” he finished sagely.

“Well...” exploded both girls.

“You see? “ said Grace exasperatedly.

Allegra laughed. “Go along, children. Keep in the shade and we’ll meet back here later?”

The Rajah rose as well. “I am used to a few moments of reflection at this time, so if the honorable assemblage will permit, I too shall withdraw.”

Pip and Allegra were left standing on the terrace as the other members of the party went their varying ways. Both felt the sudden silence that fell as they were left alone.

“There is no need for you to exert yourself in this heat, my Lord,” Allegra nervously attempted to be cool, calm, and composed while tying the ribbons of her bonnet rather lopsidedly under one ear. “I’m sure the paths of Wandle are quite safe, and I shall be able to find my way around...”

She realised she was close to babbling and stopped rather sheepishly. Besides, I may not be able to keep my hands off you.

“But you forget. We are here to fill our spirits and our bodies with the beauties of Wandle,” he answered, coming towards her.

“Yes, indeed, but if you’d rather not traipse around on such a warm day...”

“On the contrary, Cousin Allegra, there is nothing I’d enjoy more.” He took her hand with a rather innocent smile and placed it firmly in the crook of his arm. “Shall we go and prowl the shrubbery?”

Amused by his description of one of the finest gardens in England, she smiled up at him in delight. His grip on her tightened and for one delirious second, he seemed to be grappling with the impulse to do something. Perhaps cover the face looking up at him with some serious kisses?

However, common sense triumphed, and he merely nodded towards the lawn, leading her down the steps and away from the Terrace.

You, Allegra Falworth, are an idiot.