Chapter 13
“Thiswillbebrilliant!”
“I’m not so sure,” Alex replied, casting Fern a dubious look over the water.
“Yes, but something needs to be done,” she replied, passing him a heavily laden picnic basket.
The previous day, Rose entertained Lord Oliver Lassiter, the son of an earl, for tea. Their mother was nearly beside herself with the attention of a future earl, despite Lord Oliver’s unfortunate underbite and tendency to reference his mother as “mumsy.” Fern needed to redirect her sister’s attention back to Alex, and quickly, or else he would give up his courtship of Rose and his study sessions with her.
The Christ College meadows rolled lush and green behind Fern on the unseasonably warm day and had drawn nearly everyone in Oxford to the Thames. Punting was one of the most popular leisure activities for Oxford students and residents, and the banks and water teemed with people eager to spend a day rowing along on flat-bottomed boats designed more for conversation than speedy travel. After nearly a decade on the campus, Alex had not once taken part in the activity, a fact Fern found shocking.
Alex eyed the boat with one brow raised, then glanced back up at Fern. “And how can you be sure you will get stuck?” he asked.
“I always get stuck,” Fern replied. Alex tucked the picnic basket she had prepared into the glossy cherry wood punt, another of Henry’s possessions he had allowed Alex to borrow for the morning, which he had pulled onto the sandy shore. “It’s crowded today and Rose enjoys being seen, so I will take her on a little excursion in our own boat.”
“And when you become helplessly stuck?” he suggested, apparently still unsure of the mechanics of the plot.
“You will, in a moment of astounding coincidence, happen upon us and offer for Rose to climb into your punt. You will alert another boater of my need for assistance, and then the two of you will be free to enjoy the picnic you happened to overpack for your own time on the river.” She grinned. “As I said,brilliant.”
“I’m really not terribly…good at this, you know.” He prodded his pole in the water as a gondolier would then teetered precariously as his balance wobbled. “What if I can’t help you?”
“Then it will be a delightful story to laugh over during tea,” she retorted.
Alex heaved a reluctant, accepting sigh. “All right. Am I to wait here for you to pass by?”
Fern rolled her eyes. For such a clever man, he was quite terrible at this. “No, you are far too visible. Pull into that cove ahead, and we will be by in half an hour’s time, at the most. Rose is waiting for me back at the boathouse, so we won’t be long.”
His auburn brows pulled into a V, and she had a strong desire to rub her thumb over them to ease the furrow.He’s nervous, she thought, proud of herself for recognizing the emotion in him, and her subsequent desire to soothe it. “Please don’t worry,” she reassured him. “This will work, I promise!”
But of course, even the best-laid plans are sometimes destined to fail. By the time Fern had dashed back to the boathouse, her sun hat flapping behind her by its ribbons, Rose stood in a gaggle of smartly dressed young ladies, laughing politely.
“Fern,” she gushed, pulling her sister into the group. “You remember Lottie and Caroline from cotillion, don’t you?”
Fern froze in place, feeling her heart begin to pound. These girls had never been cruel to her, per se, but their wide-eyed, tense stares, as though Fern were a dangerous exotic animal in a cage, set her aback. “I do,” she said stiffly.
Awkward silence descended. Fern's cheeks warmed as tears pricked at her eyes.I suppose this is progress, she thought wanly,I am at least aware when I am making a fool of myself.
Caroline turned quickly back to Rose. “As I was saying,” she said, as though Fern did not exist. “We were just off to play croquet with the Helmsford girls, and I thought you could join us on the meadows.”
“That would be delightful,” Rose beamed. “Fern, would you like to join us?”
The polite but strained looks on Lottie and Caroline’s faces made it perfectly clear Fern’s presence would be anything but delightful.
“But Rose,” Fern said, hating her suddenly childlike tone. “You—we were to go punting.” Instantly she felt selfish and greedy over her sister’s attention, then a sick sense of shame sat like a heavy weight in her chest.
“But I don’t enjoy punting, and we always get stuck,” Rose said, her voice low. “You get so…frustrated.”
Yet another thing I have done wrong. Fern forced a smile as she lifted her face towards the breeze. “I understand. Please, go enjoy yourselves. I have a book, after all, so I can pass the time.”
Rose looked at her in concern. “Are you certain you don’t want to join us?”
Fern nodded quickly. By speaking she may reveal how hurt she felt. She was always being rejected, always cast aside. How foolish she had been to think Rose would want to spend the day with her when a better opportunity awaited.
Drawing a small poetry book from the pocket of her skirt, she smiled broadly at the girls and turned away, making haste towards the boathouse.
She fumbled her way into a small rowboat and passed a few coins to the dockhand, hoping she could catch Alex before too much time passed by. She rowed haphazardly, putting distance between herself and the shore. She could see Rose and her friends ascending the hill, skirts blowing like flowers in the breeze, laughing gaily.I will never be like them, she thought, the knot in her throat growing until she nearly choked on it.
Maneuvering the boat by herself was equal parts laborious and humiliating. She attracted the stares of other groups out enjoying the gentle waters and the warm day as she blew past with her hair plastered to her face, gasping for breath.
