One Week To Wed

Ann took her hand. ‘I do not mean to cause you distress. That was not my intention. I adore you and only want you to be happy.’

‘I am happy. I have friends and family and loyal servants who make my life easier than it could be. I am fortunate that I am able to live a relatively comfortable life.’

Distress knotted Ann’s brow. ‘Relatively?’

‘Compared to Lizzy.’

‘Compared to Lizzy we all live relatively comfortable lives.’

That had them both smiling at the absurdity of it.

‘I never imagined when we were children,’ Ann said, ‘that Lizzy would live in such grandeur.’

‘I think Lizzy would have given up all that grandeur if she could have married the man that she loves.’

‘Lizzy is in love?’ Ann’s eyes grew wide.

She wasn’t about to reveal her sister’s feelings for the Duke of Winterbourne’s brother. She had said too much already. But Ann’s eager expression did make her laugh. ‘I was speaking in hypotheticals.’

‘Oh, yes, I suppose you’re right. I’m lucky I fell in love with Toby not long after we were wed. But I do not think anyone would have fallen in love with Skeffington.’

They headed back to the stalls, each considering how they would have reacted to being told they were to marry a seventy-year-old man when they were barely old enough to feel like an adult.

‘Lizzy was so much fun to be around when we were younger,’ Charlotte mused. ‘Do you remember how eager she would be to get into some form of mischief or another?’

‘I remember when you were that way as well. I adore being with you, but I think you’ve forgotten how pleasurable a bit of excitement can be.’

Those sounded like the words Lord Aldrich had said to her when he was trying to coax her into the library during that summer ball. Excitement led to scandal. She was too smart to think one did not go without the other.

* * *

Andrew leaned against a tree with Toby, watching the rowing-boat races on the lake not far from Oakwood House. He had often participated in similar races when he was younger during house parties. It was difficult to resist the pull of competition. Even now he was tempted to join in the next race.

Fairs such as this had always been a favourite of his when he was young. He had fond memories of running through them with his brothers and challenging each other to all the games they could. Now, it was an ideal place to overhear rumblings of discontent.

‘Shall we see what other forms of entertainment there are?’ he asked Toby.

‘There’s archery for friendly competition. Although friendly competition might be too tame for you.’

Andrew nodded and shoved his hands in the pockets of his coat. That sense of excitement at the chance to best someone in competition ran through his veins. ‘How friendly does the competition get?’

‘I’m sure the wagers placed here are far less than you are accustomed to, however I always sensed the amount of the wager was never the incentive with you.’

‘Anyone can join in?’

‘Yes. Men. Women. Young. Old. It doesn’t matter. It’s all done in good fun.’

‘That should make for an interesting experience at least. Will you be joining in?’

‘I don’t believe so. However, I think I will be betting on you.’

‘That’s if I decide to compete.’

‘You were rather a crack shot with a bow when we were at college, if I recall correctly.’

They made their way up the hill to the front lawn of the house where ten large hay bales with painted targets were facing a large grove of trees. People of various ages stood in the shade, taking turns with the bows and arrows provided. There didn’t appear to be an organised competition from what Andrew could see. It was disappointing.

He was about to suggest they get some food since the smell of roasting meat was travelling over the light breeze, but then he spied Mrs Knightly and Lady Charlotte talking with a young man waiting to try his luck.

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