Page 13 of Shining Knight
Chapter Four
The next morning,when Eugenia came down for breakfast, the day’s papers were on the table, spread out before her seat. Yesterday had been glorious. Two respectable gentlemen were vying for her attention, and neither was nearly as boring, stuffy or insipid as she had thought.
Perth had let her drive a little, if sedately, until Farnsworth had appeared. How it had turned into a race to win her favor, she could not even recall. If she had raced, it would have resulted in a scandal. No one would dare reprimand Farnsworth or Perth. She filled her plate and taking her seat, began to turn through the pages, beginning, as always, with the gossip columns and then reading the rest. She spread plum jam on her toast, took a bite and then nearly choked. There was a caricature of her, standing with one foot on each phaeton as they raced through the park. She was holding a hand out to both. It was grossly unfair! It was as though she were dividing her favors between the two and a race could decide who won her hand! She bit off another mouthful of toast, then searched through another paper, looking to see how they had depicted the race, for clearly it was public knowledge already.
This one had another drawing altogether, however. They were at the theatre and Perth was on one side and Farnsworth on the other. Both gentlemen were on bended knee, looking up at her while offering her gifts of jewels and flowers, with drawings of large estates and bags of money behind the men.
She slammed the paper down on the table. “As if I could be bought!”
She drank her tea and stared at the wall. Her brother—brothers—would think this was her fault. She had done nothing wrong. Well, nothingtrulywrong, such as being caught in an alcove with a man like Lettie Bancroft had or running around the park in her unmentionables like Heath had done. She snorted at the mental picture the latter presented. Of course, sheoughtto be shocked. However, the stakes were higher now that Perth and Farnsworth were openly courting her. She liked both gentlemen in a friendly way and did not wish for this to become a ridiculous contest, nor did she wish to choose a husband in the public’s eye.
She had four brothers and knew that competitiveness was in their blood. Today was the Oglesby garden party and Farnsworth had won the right to escort her.
Things had changed a great deal in a few short days. She had no one she could truly talk this over with. Sybil was on her way to Italy with her new husband on their holiday, and Graham… she sighed heavily. What had happened? He was angry with her, and she with him—but she wasn’t truly angry, just annoyed. If she had quarreled with one of her brothers, they would have talked it over and found a solution. So why did she feel she could not speak with him?
It made her unaccountably sad. It felt as though she had suffered a loss when he was perfectly well only two houses away. What could she do? She had made it abundantly clear she did not wish to be his obligation, but from his reactions, it seemed she had hurt him.
Would he come for her that morning? Winfred had said he had come yesterday and she was already gone. She ate the last piece of toast without tasting it, knowing she had made a mull of everything. She had put on her riding habit out of habit, she snickered at the pun, but although she sat in the breakfast parlor and waited and waited, he did not come. It was what she deserved. Perhaps she would have a chance to speak with him at the garden party and apologize.
Eventually she gave up, and went upstairs to read until it was time to change for the afternoon. Farnsworth arrived promptly to escort her and her aunt to the garden party.
“Good afternoon, my lady,” he said, bowing over Aunt Hambridge’s hand. “May I say, that shade of pink does wonders for your complexion?”
Her aunt tapped him on the arm with her fan. “Come now, Alistair. We are too old for such blatant balderdash.”
Eugenia frowned. Did that mean he was of an age with her aunt? They must be closer in age than she was to him. That was a disturbing thought.
“And you, Lady Eugenia, are as bright as the sunshine.”
“Thank you, Your Grace,” she muttered as she curtsied, feeling more despondent as she recalled Graham had said the exact same words to her. She wore a jonquil muslin with pink roses embroidered into a pattern with a matching pink band beneath her bodice. It seemed suitably horticultural. Her bonnet was also bright. Graham had teased her about it when she purchased it, but it was one of her favorites.
“Shall we go? I had thought we could travel by boat. It is a perfect day for it,” the duke remarked.
“That sounds delightful!” her aunt exclaimed. “It is quite warm for October.”
After a carriage ride to the Thames, they boarded a barge that was waiting for them.
Eugenia remained quiet—a feat for her—listening to her aunt and suitor chat and reminisce about how courting had been in their day (nonexistent) and their grandchildren (he already had five). Would that make her a mother and a grandmother if she married him?
They paid her little mind, so she nodded and smiled, her thoughts in a whirl. Graham would have appreciated the oddity of the moment. If they had but realized her silence was cause for alarm, they might have paid her more attention.
Servants rowed them upstream to the string of mansions owned by the aristocracy along the waterfront. Lord Oglesby preferred to live here as opposed to in Town, and as they approached the façade from the river, Eugenia understood why. The gardens put Vauxhall and Hyde Park to shame. It was wild perfection. Eugenia assumed Capability Brown had been the one to design such a visual feast, but he had done so in such a manner that it did not look intentional nor overly manicured. The flowers were in full bloom, their colors a bright rainbow, and their mixture of fragrance strong even near the river.
“How lovely!” Aunt Hambridge exclaimed.
As they slowed and floated to dock, a wide expanse of lawn opened up before them where a cricket game was being played on one side and lawn chess on another. Further up the hill towards the house, tents had been erected for shade and tables of food. It was a pleasant contrast to Town.
The duke climbed out to hand them on to the pier, Eugenia almost being tipped over as her aunt lunged forward. She gripped the side and closed her eyes, praying that no more disasters befell her for the afternoon.
Farnsworth laughed. “You may open your eyes now, my lady.” He was looking at her warmly, and she felt acutely uncomfortable. She wanted to be away. Reprieve came in the form of Lord and Lady Oglesby, who were making their way towards the duke to greet him.
Lord Oglesby (though looking much older) and Farnsworth had apparently been old school chums and had played on the championship cricket team together. His Grace was quickly recruited to play in a match they were organizing.
“Do you have any objections, Lady Eugenia?”
“Not at all. It will be delightful to watch you play.”
He barely waited for her answer as he rushed off with Oglesby.
