Page 34 of A Damsel for the Wounded Earl
“I… I don’t much think of marriage, Mama,” the poor girl stuttered.
Mrs. Sinclair waved a hand. “Don’t be silly, Matilda. You understand my point, don’t you, Miranda? A great deal rests on this. Leave nothing to chance. And betray nothing about our situation, even if you think it will help your cause. Do you understand me?”
The table was very quiet. Miranda felt as though a spotlight was shining on her. She could almost feel the imagined heat of the light on her skin. Beads of sweat started up on her forehead, and she swiped frantically at her face with the back of her hand. Asweatinglady was disgusting indeed, she’d been told again and again.
“Of course I understand,” Miranda said, as lightly and casually as she could manage. No use letting the others see when she was rattled. Carrie would never leave her alone about it. “You needn’t worry, Mama. It’s all in hand. I have devised a scheme, and I am confident that all shall unfold in a most satisfactory manner.”
Mrs. Sinclair eyed her for a long moment. “I hope it does, Miranda. For all our sakes.”
Miranda poured herself another cup of tea with a shaking hand. Her good mood was entirely gone. After breakfast she would go for a walk, to give her a healthful glow, and then spend some time deciding just how, exactly, she would conquer Arthur at the picnic.
The first step would be to get his attention.
Chapter Thirteen
They’d chosen a sunny, leafy spot by Lake Erving for their picnic. It was Lucy’s suggestion, and Felicity had to admit it really was a perfect location for a picnic. The weather was good, warm enough today to sit out on blankets and admire the view, and everybody seemed to be in good spirits.
The Langley blanket, as they were calling it, was large enough for Mrs. Langley and Lucy, as well as all three Thornhills. Daniel had brought his own blanket and picnic, and Lord Lanwood was said to be coming along later. Judging by the way poor Mrs. Langley kept craning her neck and looking around, it seemed that she didn’t have much faith in his arriving at all.
In groups and by twos, the guests arrived, chattering and laughing while their servants set out the blankets and picnic. Felicity was aware of her mother’s eye on her and made sure to keep a pleasant smile on her face and never slouched, even though sitting upright on a picnic blanket wasn’t exactlyeasy.
It had been made very clear to her that just because she wasn’t having her books and studies taken away did not mean that she was permitted to talk freely about them.
“You shame me again and again, Felicity!” Mrs. Thornhill had hissed, fingers digging into Felicity’s arm, hauling her close enough to smell her mother’s breath. The offending sketch book had been yanked away, the smudgy block-drawing torn into pieces, and she was commanded to produce a half-decent sketch by the end of today, orelse.
It wasn’t specified what theor elsewould entail, but Felicity preferred not to dwell on it. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Miss Sinclair approaching, and Lord Vincent bringing up the rear.
Wonderful,she thought sourly.
Miss Sinclair was wearing a beautiful pink satin gown, one that flattered her form and complexion perfectly. It made Felicity’s blue-ribboned white muslin seem entirely boring and very childish.
Lord Vincent pushed past her, heading straight to Felicity with a wide grin.
“Hello, Miss Thornhill. You’re looking very fresh and pretty. May I join you?”
Felicity was about to say that there wasn’t really enough room, but Mrs. Thornhill spoke up first.
“Oh, yes, do join us, Lord Vincent! Felicity was thinking of doing a little sketching later, you know how she loves to draw. There are so many fine views around here, but I have been looking at the lake and wondering if some of the young people might want to go for a boat ride. There are boats for hire, I see, and I’m sure a pretty view would present itself out there on the lake. What do you think, Lord Vincent?”
No, no, no, no,Felicity thought, panicking. The implication was clear. Mrs. Thornhill was hinting for Lord Vincent to take Felicity out on the lake, just the two of them, in a boat, where they could chat to their hearts’ content.
And there would be no way of her getting out of it.
Lord Vincent was grinning like a crocodile, clearly understanding the hint.
“Why, what a capital idea, Mrs. Thornhill. I should certainly love a little row-boat trip across the lake.”
“As would I,” came a deep, familiar voice from behind. The three of them flinched, twisting around to find Lord Lanwood standing over them, face blank, arms tucked behind his back. Felicity was perfectly placed to see Lord Vincent’s face drop in dismay, which was really pretty funny. Lord Lanwood glanced at her, and one eyebrow arched.
“What do you say, Miss Thornhill? Would you care to accompany me on the lake?”
“Yes,” she said, relief flooding through her. “I’d like that very much.”
Lord Vincent looked as though he’d bitten into a lemon. Mrs. Thornhill seemed confused as to whether she should be pleased or dismayed.
Before anything else could go wrong, Felicity scrambled to her feet, almost tripping over her skirts in her keenness to get away.
As Mrs. Thornhill had said, plenty of other people seemed to have the same idea. The rowboats for hire down by the pier were only really large enough for two, so people were dividing themselves into twos, climbing gingerly into the boats, and pushing off from the shore.
