Page 34 of Finding Hope
“No one expects you to be just like Faith,” Patience scoffed.
If only Hope did not feel that somehow she was failing.
Lady Agathawasfusby-faced,though Max would never admit to his friends that they had been correct. Selecting the proper duchess did not always proffer the luxury of that lady also being a beauty. When the party had met on the south lawn for games, everyone had begun to divide into the various activities.
Summerton and Wilton opposed each other across the net, and most of the matrons watched from chairs placed beneath the shade of a nearby oak. The young adults chose shuttlecock, whilst Max’s friends elected lawn bowls. He thought that a fine idea, but when he stepped forward to join the others, Lady Wilton moved in front of him.
“My lord, Lady Agatha has always wanted to learn archery, have you not, my dear?”
“Yes, of course, Mama.” That lady smiled shyly with a nervous simper.
“I have heard you are an expert, and who better to instruct a novice than you?” Lady Wilton tittered.
It was the perfect opportunity, and he had not had to try to orchestrate time with her, which was even better. “I would be delighted, Lady Agatha.”
“Off with you, then,” Lady Wilton said as though eager for them to be on their way.
“I would also like to learn.” Miss Grace boldly stepped forward, bless her. She was taking the protection bit to heart.
“I am certain someone else would be happy to teach you as well,” Lady Agatha said, obviously none too pleased at having to share.
“I am mediocre at best, but I would be more than happy to show you what I know,” Carew graciously offered.
“Wonderful!” Lady Agatha said a bit too exuberantly.
His eyes met Carew’s, and he saw understanding. He wanted to have a chance to speak with Lady Agatha, not be cornered and forced into anything.
They walked on down to the archery range, where the targets had been set up, and footmen brought quivers of arrows for each of them.
Lady Agatha went over to select a bow. Of course, she selected the largest, strongest one.
“Perhaps you might wish to begin with something a little smaller, Lady Agatha,” Max suggested.
She giggled. “How silly of me!”
Max smiled. “Permit me to help you.” Quickly, he ascertained the shyness had been feigned. She was nothing of the sort. Every chance she could, she bumped into him. She was constantly grabbing his arm and trying to step right next to him. It was no surprise, when it came time to position the arrow and shoot it, that she could not manage without Max’s help.
“Perhaps she is very near-sighted?” Carew drawled in a brief reprieve while they went down the range to examine their own shots.
“You are very generous. I feel smothered.”
Max noticed that Miss Grace was a natural and was already hitting the target with her arrows.
“Just imagine a lifetime of scintillating conversation,” Carew warned.
“Any conversation would be welcome,” Max retorted as he yanked the arrows from the target.
When he returned to his partner, he was determined to make an effort to draw her out. Perhaps this was just her mother’s influence, and she would be better alone. How long was it until the picnic?
Every topic of conversation or question he posed resulted in the answer, “What do you think, my lord?” He resigned himself to an afternoon of batting eyelashes, mundane conversation, simpering and forced proximity. He didn’t know why he was surprised by any of it. ’Twas all part of the game, after all, but it was quickly obvious Lady Agatha was not the one for him.
If he had not been wishing that the lady in his arms was someone else, it might have been less tedious. He’d never seen Hope behave as vulgarly as Lady Agatha was doing. Why did the Duchess think that pedigree mattered more than behaviour? However, he had wanted the opportunity to fairly evaluate all of the other ladies, and other than Lady Caroline, he’d done so. She would be his next object. It was difficult not to hold all others up against Hope, even though most thought it should be the other way around.
His only consolation was Carew was in a similar situation with Miss Grace. At least she was not fusby-faced.
Thus far, he had managed to escape his mother. He was trying very hard to keep her from knowledge of his thoughts or intentions. The less dealings they had with each other, the better. But she was present on the lawns that afternoon and was certainly not stupid.
He hoped all that she could see was him being a cordial host. He had actually spent very little time with Hope—certainly no one could say he had singled her out.
