What? “No,” I stated firmly. “Quite the opposite.”
“Good. She’s never liked any of the men who try to court her.”
“Have there been a lot?”
Charlie groaned. “Too many. And I had to listen to her complain about each and every one. She only wants someone to ride and shoot with. Compliments and flowers make her very angry.”
Another grin rose to my mouth, picturing the poor men who had tried such tactics with Miss Blackwell. They were twice over fools, first for allowing Miss Blackwell’s beauty, good humor, and fascinating allure to overshadow her obvious pride and stubbornness, and second for thinking such mundane things could sway her affections.
The clatter of carriages sounded in the sweep. Charlie grabbed my brush and lay both of ours down on the table. Harriet had returned earlier than I expected. We dashed to the front of the house to greet the guests upon their return.
I glanced around the sweep. For once, Miss Blackwell was nowhere to be found. Harriet was in one of those carriages, and I would be able to speak to her without opposition. The carriage stopped. Through the open curtain I could see Mrs. Pryor in the first carriage. Surely her daughter would ride with her. The footmen opened the door and then I stepped forward to assist Mrs. Pryor from the carriage.
“Oh,” she said when she saw my uplifted hand. “Thank you, Captain Calder.”
I smiled warmly at her. She was an older version of her daughter, polite and pleasant, with hair still dark with only a few hints of gray. “You’re welcome,” I said with a grin and then turned to help my original object.
But Charlie, that little devil, had followed my lead and had his hand up ready to assist Harriet. I couldn’t very well push him aside, as much as I wanted to. Harriet took his hand and emerged through the door.
I may not have her hand, but when her foot touched the ground after a quick thank you to Charlie, she looked up and our eyes met. I held her gaze, waiting for my pulse to quicken and my chest to tighten in response to finally having the chance to speak to her ... not alone, exactly, but at least not with Miss Blackwell lingering about and listening to my every word.
This was the woman I was going to marry. Her softly dimpled smile lifted and still I held her gaze, looking for that connection, waiting for her eyes to brighten the way they always had in my dreams, but they stayed steady. This was also a victory, wasn’t it? What did eyes sparking even look like? What had I expected?
In the end, something even better happened, for she directed Charlie to walk toward me. “Miss Pryor,” I said with a slow bow. “I hope your visit to Peak Hollow was pleasant.”
“It was, thank you,” she grinned. “And we’ve brought another guest. Could you perhaps assist her out of the carriage?”
Another guest? I hadn’t been aware of anyone else planning on attending the house party. But if Harriet wanted me to help this new visitor out of the carriage, then of course I would. “I’m happy to.”
The hand that grabbed my outstretched one was small and gloved but had an iron grip. I looked up to see an elderly but sprywoman in a mobcap under her bonnet. She stepped down with the confidence of a rooster striding into a henhouse.
Mr. Pryor followed soon after. “Ah, Captain Calder,” he said when his foot hit the ground. “I’d like to introduce you to Mrs. Wickerton. She was in Peak Hollow and assured us General Blackwell was expecting her.”
“Captain Calder.” Mrs. Wickerton glanced back at my friends who were exiting the other carriage. “Another officer. What a delight.” Her small mouth curved up into a smile and with excitable hands she pulled a small book from her reticule. “I’m certain I’ve heard that name before.”
“My family owns an estate nearby,” I suggested helpfully.
Her hands paused and she jerked her head back up in my direction. “Applewood?” She spoke the word in one brief puff of air.
“Yes. Do you know it?”
She opened her book, speaking while also thumbing through pages. “Your estate has been woefully empty for years. It is a disservice to the county. But never mind, I assume this means you will be returning and taking up residence soon?”
“It does.”
She reached the back of her book and mumbled “Cadry ... Cainsworth ... ah, Calder, here you are, page eighty-seven.”
I blinked.
She opened her book to page eighty-seven and read the entry under her breath. Then she lifted her beady eyes back up to me. “You led a counterattack to close the gates of Hougoumont and made quite the name for yourself. You also received a monetary reward.”
Who was this woman, and what the devil was that book in her hand?
“Mrs. Wickerton likes to keep abreast of all the happenings in Derbyshire,” Mr. Pryor explained.
“All the happenings,” Brookhouse reiterated from behind her.
“Shouldn’t we all?” Mrs. Wickerton asked. “Isn’t it our duty to care for and watch out for one another? If not, how would we know who to pray for and who to reprove when admonition is called for?”
