Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

ANNE

“ I find it deucedly difficult to sleep at night at Birch House,” Lady Tottenham said with a sigh. “The crickets are far too loud.”

My hand tightened on Alexander’s arm. Every time I thought Lady Tottenham’s house party activities couldn’t possibly become more shocking, I was proven wrong. At the one dinner party I had attended of hers, she had caused a stir by serving dessert topped with dried crickets. It was her speciality.

“Therefore, my groundskeeping staff catches them from the shrubs, bushes, and hedgerows for me,” she continued. “I am not so cold-hearted as to allow them to go to waste.” She smiled lovingly at the creatures on the tray. “Though a little peculiar, they make an excellent addition to any feast. All they need is a little salt or sugar.”

Her words rang in my ears.

Peculiar…feast.

I closed my eyes against the sight of the crickets on the tray. “ Blast it to Cumbria and back,” I hissed under my breath.

Alexander seemed to have made the same realization I had, except he wasn’t nearly as distressed. He smiled down at me, eyes gleaming with amusement. “You ate those twenty-three pastries for nothing.”

“Not for nothing,” I snapped. “They were delicious.”

He laughed, his entire body shaking to suppress it. I squeezed his arm just hard enough to hurt. It only made his smile widen. “I hope you’re hungry,” he whispered.

My hairline was wet with perspiration. How on earth would I be able to eat twenty-three of those crunchy little creatures? I had a stronger stomach than most. I could do it. I had to. My efforts the night before to obtain the next clue had been wasted. I couldn’t give up now, no matter how entertained Alexander would be. I shushed him as he tried to tease me again, straining my ears to hear Lady Tottenham’s instructions.

“The game will be played in teams. I will ask a question or pose a riddle to be solved, and the first team to guess the answer correctly, will win five points. The losing team will have to select a player to go to the table and eat a cricket. The game will continue until all the crickets on your team’s tray have been eaten. If a player chooses to eat more than one cricket, each additional cricket will count as a point toward their team’s total score, and bring them closer to clearing their tray. As you can see, there are multiple ways to win.” Lady Tottenham glanced up with a sigh. “Let us hope it doesn’t rain. No one likes soggy crickets.” She picked up a cricket from one tray and popped it in her mouth.

The crunching sound brought Mrs. Fitzgibbon to tears. She turned away from the table, rushing toward the back of the group. Mr. Lymington handed her his handkerchief, a grim expression on his face.

Miss Rowley’s cheeks were pale, a hint of green under her skin. She pressed a hand to her stomach.

Octavia smiled, leaning forward to examine the trays more closely. “What do they taste like?” she asked with fascination.

Lady Tottenham pursed her lips. “They have a unique taste, but most akin to almonds, roasted legumes, or seeds.”

“Hmm,” Alexander said with a grin. “I like legumes.” His gaze found mine. “Do you?”

I filled my lungs, squaring my shoulders. “I love them.”

He chuckled, and the sound brought a laugh out of my own mouth. It was all so ridiculous, I could hardly believe it. The smiling creases at the corners of Alexander’s eyes made the nerves in my stomach relax. This game didn’t need to be dreadful. It could be as enjoyable as we made it. It felt good to laugh. The tension in my shoulders softened, and I breathed a little easier.

I made eye contact with one of the crickets on the tray, and my stomach turned sour. I closed my eyes. They were legumes. Not crickets. Delicious little legumes, I repeated in my mind. With eyes and legs and antennae.

Lady Tottenham divided us into two teams. I stood on one side of the grass with Mrs. Pike, Mr. Lymington, Miss Morton, Miss Rowley, Mr. St. Vincent, and Alexander. The other seven stood across from us.

“You must decide as a team if you prefer sweet or salted,” Lady Tottenham said. “I have ensured the two trays have an equal number of crickets.”

My team formed a circle facing one another.

“Shall we request salted?” Mr. St. Vincent asked. His gruff voice matched his exterior perfectly.

Mrs. Pike gulped. “Sweet sounds more tolerable to me.”

“Are you actually going to eat crickets?” Mr. St. Vincent scoffed.

“I will in order to help my team,” she said, though her pallor belied her words.

Mr. Lymington nodded. “As will I.” He cast an admiring glance in Mrs. Pike’s direction, to which she responded with a bashful smile. Another of Lady Tottenham’s intended matches seemed to be forming.

“I would choose salted,” Miss Morton said.

Miss Rowley scowled. “No! Sweet.”

“Does it really matter?” Alexander asked, his deep voice silencing the circle. “They’re still crickets either way.”

Mrs. Pike raised an eyebrow in my direction. “Do you have a preference, Lady Daventry?”

The thought of sugar on a cricket made me ill. “My choice would be salted.”

Mr. St. Vincent took that as his answer, lifting his hand high in the air. “We would like them salted, my lady.”

Octavia called out from the other side of the grass. “We would like them sweet.”

The two footman stepped forward at Lady Tottenham’s instruction, one with a salt shaker, and the other with what I assumed was sugar. They each sprinkled one tray.

A maid came to Lady Tottenham with a long piece of parchment rolled together like a scroll.

“Here is your first riddle, and it is an easy one.” She unraveled it, reading from the top. “Create a word from the following phrases. ‘Here the Queen her debutantes receives, there the navy sails across the seas.”

Both groups fell silent as we contemplated the answer. Within seconds, my hand flew into the air. Lady Tottenham must have been a reader of Jane Austen. The answer was the same as one in the novel Emma , though the clues were different. Given her romantic nature, I wasn’t surprised. “The word is courtship,” I said in a quick voice. “The queen receives her debutantes in court. The navy sails in a ship.”

“Well done, Lady Daventry.” Lady Tottenham raised one eyebrow, half her mouth raising with it.

Alexander nudged me. “I’m impressed.”

A surge of pride rose in my chest, but I pushed it away. I didn’t need to impress anyone, especially not Alexander. “I have a way with riddles.”

“Is that why you ate twenty-three pastries last night?” His eyes collided with mine, brimming with amusement.

I ignored him, watching as the other team selected the first person to eat a cricket. Octavia stepped up to the table, plucking one up from the tray. She popped it in her mouth without hesitation. Mrs. Fitzgibbon fanned herself with one hand.

“It tastes like a sugared almond,” Octavia said with a giggle. She picked up a second one, then a third. My jaw lowered as she popped three more in her mouth, for a total of six. A hint of disgust crossed her features. She gagged. They weren’t as delicious as she claimed. She swallowed. It looked painful. “How many points is that?”

“Five,” Lady Tottenham said with a grin. “You have tied the game.”

Octavia popped one more cricket in her mouth, brushed the sugar off her fingers, and skipped back to her team. Mrs. Fitzgibbon cheered, though her face was still contorted with a grimace.

“Six points!” Lady Tottenham said. “You have taken the lead already.”

Octavia beamed, her sharp blue eyes drifting over to me. Her proud smile transformed to a smirk.

Lady Tottenham turned her attention to the scroll once again. “Another word must be created from the following phrases. ‘A cloudless sky creates this hue, the other lives within a lady’s shoe.”

Mr. Lymington’s hand shot up seconds later. I hardly had time to think of an answer. Lady Tottenham gestured toward him. “Yes, Mr. Lymington? What is your answer?”

He rubbed his grey side whiskers, hesitating for a long moment. “A grey toe.”

Miss Morton and Miss Rowley burst into obnoxious laughter.

“That is incorrect, Mr. Lymington.” Lady Tottenham motioned toward the other team. “Do you have an answer to offer?”

A stone of dread settled in my stomach. The answer was obvious.

Mrs. Fitzgibbon raised her hand from across the grass. “The word is bluestocking, my lady.”

“Very good!”

Mr. Lymington hung his head, glowering at the grass. Mrs. Pike rushed to reassure him, patting him on the back. “That was a difficult one,” she whispered.

I took a deep breath. “I’ll eat the crickets,” I said.

Mr. St. Vincent nodded. No one rushed to volunteer in my place. I didn’t dare look at Alexander’s grin as I made my way to the table. I could end the game quickly if I did what had to be done. The only question was whether or not my stomach could bear it.

Legumes. Salty legumes , I reminded myself. Delicious little legumes. I chanted those words in my mind as I took the final steps across the grass.

Upon closer inspection, the tray was most certainly not covered with delicious little legumes.

My hand shook as I reached for the pile. If touching them was already this difficult, eating them would be much worse. I had done it before. I could do it again. Last time, however, they had been coated with custard sauce atop a pudding. I had tried not to notice they were there. Nothing disguised them now.

I felt a raindrop on my arm as I picked up the first cricket. Without thinking, I popped it into my mouth. Another raindrop splattered on my arm.

As Lady Tottenham had said, no one liked soggy crickets.

If I waited until my next turn to finish all twenty-three, I would dread it even more.

One at a time. That was the only way I would be able to bear it. Octavia had taken a mouthful, and that was when she had gagged.

Legumes, legumes, legumes, I repeated in my head as I ate each cricket.

Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven.

I kept my focus on the tray, though I could hear my team cheering behind me. I thought I heard Alexander laughing, but I didn’t glance back. My heart pounded, sending a thrill across my skin. I had never done something so bold. If Miles saw me now, he would think I had lost my mind. During the years I had known him, I had been reserved, proper, and would have never participated in such a ridiculous game. He had complimented my elegance and manners on many occasions. I had prided myself on it.

Now, I was feeling a surge of pride as I bit down on my nineteenth dried cricket.

They did taste like legumes. The salt was the prevailing flavor. I finished my final four crickets before dusting off my salty fingers over the tray. I turned around. I hadn’t noticed the quaking in my legs before. Every muscle in my body was charged with energy, and a smile broke over my face. I gave a curtsy in Lady Tottenham’s direction. “That makes twenty-three.”

She held still for a long moment, those sharp green eyes appraising me. Then she lifted her hands and clapped, a slow applause that grew in intensity. A smile, just as slow, took over her expression. “You continue to surprise me, Lady Daventry. You have earned twenty-two points for your team.”

My teammates burst into their own applause. Alexander shook his head as I approached. I brushed my hands off on my skirts. “You’re next,” I said with a jab at his upper arm.

“I think Mrs. Pike would rather volunteer,” he said in a low voice. I followed his gaze to where she had been standing. She held a handkerchief to her lips, and her eyes watered with disgust. She gagged when she looked at me, so she jerked her gaze back to the grass beneath her feet.

I couldn’t stop the laugh that burst out of me. Alexander’s smile was contagious. He shook with laughter. My cheeks ached as I tried to keep my giggles contained. What had come over me?

A heavy droplet of rain landed on his cheek. I tore my gaze away from his face, looking up at the sky. The rain intensified, fat droplets wringing out from the clouds. After a few seconds, the light drizzle turned into a storm. My bonnet protected my head from the water, but Alexander’s hair was soaked. The ladies on my team shrieked, raising their shawls above their heads. Soon enough, the crickets would be swimming.

Lady Tottenham held her parasol over her head. “Blast and botheration. I was just beginning to enjoy myself. We shall have to call this game complete; you may all return to the house. Lady Daventry’s team has won.”

The droplets made Alexander’s dark lashes stick together. His hand wrapped around mine. I didn’t pull it away, because the guests and Lady Tottenham were watching. That is the only reason, I told myself.

He tugged me toward the house. I laughed until my stomach ached, holding my bonnet in place as we ran. The elation I felt made my head light, as if I could float away at any moment. My feet barely touched the ground. My heart galloped with a sense of accomplishment.

I had earned my clue.