Page 46 of A Lady of Conscience

James didn’t take the warning lightly. “Understood.”

“That’s not all.” Captain Heywood’s face grew more serious still. “I want something from you, lad.”

“Anything, sir,” James said promptly.

“At the first indication that my daughter doesn’t return your interest, I want your word as a gentleman that you will leave Bath.”

James’s stomach sank. Hell’s teeth. He had walked neatly into that trap, hadn’t he?

“I won’t permit you to stand in the way of her finding true happiness, whether that happiness lies with another gentleman or back home with her mother and me. With you out of the way, she will be free to decide what’s best for her.”

“I would never stand in the way of her happiness,” James said.

Captain Heywood was unmoved. “I want your word.”

James saw no way to avoid giving it. He stiffly inclined his head in grudging acceptance of the captain’s terms. “Very well,” he answered. “You have it.”

Chapter Fifteen

Hannah arranged her skirts around her as she knelt down on the striped blanket Lady Carleton had spread over the grass. It was one of many such blankets scattered about the tree-studded park, each of them occupied by fashionable ladies and gentlemen, talking and laughing, and dining on the offerings from their picnic hampers. Liveried servants stood about them, pouring glasses of champagne and preparing plates of cold chicken, ham, and tongue.

“We are fortunate in the weather,” Lady Carleton said as she unfurled her parasol.

“Indeed, we are,” Hannah agreed. The sky was clear and the sun was shining, with only a whisper of a breeze drifting over the hills to alleviate the warmth of the early afternoon.

“When one has hosted as many picnic parties as I have over the decades, one learns how easily such gatherings can go awry. A single rain shower and the whole affair must be removed indoors. Either that or cancelled altogether.”

“This is my first picnic party,” Hannah admitted. She’d donned a new white muslin dress with a primrose satin ribbon sash for the occasion, and had worn her prettiest straw bonnet. It was in the way of being her armor. She had suspected she would need it.

Charles was meeting with his solicitor this afternoon and had been unable to accompany her. Instead, Hannah had traveled to the picnic site in the Carletons’ barouche, every minute of the journey wishing she could plead a headache or a fever—anything to be permitted to return home.

It was poor spirited of her, she knew. But there was something dreadfully intimidating about a picnic. There was no structure to it. No formality. Unlike a ball, where everything proceeded in accordance with the program of dances, or a dinner, where there existed a seating arrangement. At a picnic party, people moved freely from blanket to blanket. They clustered in self-selected groups, giggling and whispering. Some even wandered off together, to go exploring or to engage in games or sport.

From the moment they’d arrived, Hannah had felt herself on the outside of things. It was why she’d resolved to cleave to her hostess. She’d had little choice in Charles’s absence. As for James, she wasn’t entirely certain he’d been invited, let alone whether he’d be in attendance.

Lady Carleton smiled at her. “Then we must make sure you are well entertained.” She tipped her parasol, shielding her face from the sun. “You must join the young people. There is Miss Fieldstone. And I see Miss Paley with Lord Fennick. She has just arrived from London yesterday. A charming girl, from an estimable family. Her father has come to take the waters. He suffers dreadfully from his gout.”

Hannah had met Miss Fieldstone at a dinner party, and had danced with Lord Fennick for a single set at her first ball. However, she had not yet met Miss Paley. She was a dainty, porcelain-skinned blond, with a decided air about her. Mr. Fennick and another gentleman were dancing attendance on her, giving every indication that they considered Miss Paley to be the belle of the picnic.

“Oh no,” Hannah swiftly objected. “I’m quite happy to remain here with you.”

“You are exceedingly polite, my dear, but I know better. Miss Paley!” Lady Carleton called out to the young lady. “Allow me to introduce you to Miss Heywood.”

Miss Paley gave their hostess a tight smile. She murmured something to her companion before rising from her blanket, with his assistance, and coming to join them. She wore a dress of apple green muslin, with satin trimmed skirts that floated around her like a bell. “Lady Carleton. Miss Heywood. A pleasure.”

“I have just been attempting to persuade Miss Heywood to abandon my poor self for more enlivening company,” Lady Carleton said. “Do be a dear and take her with you. This is her first season, and I am resolved that she make the most of it.”

“If you wish it, ma’am.” Miss Paley’s dark eyes settled on Hannah. Her expression was cool. “Miss Heywood?”

Hannah stood, smoothing her skirts. She had told James that she wasn’t afraid of strangers. That much had been true. But her shyness often manifested as something very like fear. It made her palms grow clammy and her stomach tremble. She did her best to ignore it. “Thank you,” she said. “I’m obliged to you.”

“Not at all.” As they approached Miss Paley’s blanket, Lord Fennick moved toward them. Miss Paley repelled him with a wave of her hand. “Shall we walk?” she asked Hannah.

“If you like.”

“I would like it,” Miss Paley said. “What I don’t like is popping up and down from the grass like a jack-in-the-box. It is most inconvenient.”

Lord Fennick trailed doggedly after them. “Your parasol, Miss Paley.”