“Yes.”
“I had thought…” She stopped, her face pinking slightly.
The corner of Matthew’s lips rose. She hadn’t realized they would be bringing a live goose into town. Miss Shroud had been surprising him, placing him in uncomfortable situations since the minute he met her. Makingheruncomfortable was a nice change.
“The best way to keep it fresh is to keep it alive until she needs it,” Mr. Johnson said matter-of-factly. “Now, let's see which one we can catch. Mr. Victor, would you like to help us?”
Mr. Victor looked down at his not-very-fine, but quite clean jacket and trousers. “I will if you need my help, but if it turns out to be an easy task, I will leave it to the rest of you.”
Mr. Johnson laughed. “It is never an easy task. Come, Mr. Scarper, girls, let's catch a goose.”
The girls clapped their hands. Miss Mary reached for his elbow and pulled him toward the garden. He didn’t know why hedid it, but when her hand reached for him, his eyes went to Miss Shroud. She didn’t notice his glance though, as she was watching Mary’s hand with a suspicious look in her eye.
What did that look mean? And why did he feel the need to gauge her reaction to Mary’s forwardness? He furrowed his brow and shook his head. He had a goose to catch.
He walked carefully forward and Miss Mary dropped her hand. Running was never the right answer with these geese. It was better to come upon them slowly.
Someone should have reminded little Miss Bertha of that. She dashed ahead in a rush and the geese scattered, honking and flapping their wings.
In the excitement, Miss Mary rushed forward as well, and all the girls, minus Miss Harriet, who went to stand by Miss Shroud and the vicar, were darting in front of the geese and squealing.
His stealth would do him no good now. A smile curved his lips. In the past few years, he hadn’t had much in the way of entertainment. Now, with Miss Shroud always with him, he didn’t even have Marge to talk to. Perhaps it was Mr. Victor’s comment about him not being talkative, or perhaps it was the joy on Bertha’s face, but he suddenly felt the need to release all the pent-up frustrations of the past three years, and chasing a goose seemed to be the right way to go about it.
He dashed forward, mimicking Miss Bertha’s enthusiasm. Miss Mary, who had only made it a few feet past him, jumped aside and gasped. Then, seeing that it was him, and perhaps seeing the grin on his face, she laughed and ran beside him.
“Come, Miss Mary. We shall chase them toward the house, and your father or one of your sisters will grab one while they are worried about us.”
“Wonderful idea!” Miss Mary said. It really wasn’t. Sneaking up on a goose when they weren’t expecting it was a wonderful idea. Chasing after them while waving his hands was a ridiculousidea, but the plan had already been set in motion by Bertha. They would simply have to do their best.
He motioned to Miss Johnson to stand near the goose pen. When he had come in the past, they had often been locked in the pen by the time he got there, but he’d arrived earlier than planned. The more he thought of it, the less terrible the idea of chasing the geese seemed. If they were frightened enough, they would surely run to what they thought was the safety of their pen.
One goose stood only a few feet away from him, agitated, but not yet running. Matthew made a dash for it. With a brilliant flapping of wings, it managed to get a few feet off the ground and fly away, as he had known it would. At least it was headed toward the pen.
Mary made a sound deep in her throat to mimic the honking of the geese and he laughed. When was the last time he’d had this much fun? He wanted so badly to turn and look at Miss Shroud. He was hardly being the pinnacle of professionalism. And yet, she was here to observehim, not a false version of himself. And apparently he chased geese when given the chance.
Miss Johnson motioned for her father to take her place guarding the pen, and ran over to the two of them. “Mary shouldn’t get to have all the fun.” She smiled broadly up at him, then stepped to his side. He now had a Miss Johnson on either side of him. He nodded his head toward the largest group of geese and both of the young ladies grinned back at him. Six of the large birds paced nervously at the edge of the garden. The three of them started out slowly and deliberately, their boots not making a sound in the soft ground beneath their feet. But when one of the geese darted to the side, he and his companions dashed toward it simultaneously, as if on command.
All six of the geese scattered in a cacophony of feathers and honking.
His laughter mixed with that of the two ladies at his side. The two youngest daughters stayed near the house, jumping up and down, honking and waving their hands as if they could help from where they stood.
Just what kind of mayhem had he introduced to Miss Shroud?
Miss Johnson reached for his forearm and pulled him along, and after a moment Miss Mary did the same. He followed them, for what choice did he have at this point? Together they fanned out and ran toward the geese, the two young ladies flapping their outer arms as if he were the enormous body of a goose and they were the wings.
He’d never chased geese in London.
In a lot of ways, it would be a shame to go back.
The pen was twenty feet to their right, and he motioned with his head for the sisters to push the geese in that direction. They both nodded in agreement.
Only then did he see that Miss Shroud had joined Mr. Johnson at the side of the gate.
Both sides of Miss Shroud's mouth were turned downward. He would have thought she’d enjoy such a lively moment after the dull morning he had provided her, but she didn’t look happy at all. She looked as though they’d arrived at breakfast together and Matthew had managed to snatch the last sausage.
What a strange woman.
They were within ten feet of the pen now, and the geese were even closer. Miss Johnson and Miss Mary’s laughter rang out around him. Both of them tugged at him in intervals and it caused his steps to slide from one side to the other. But they were managing some forward progress.
