Page 48 of To Follow her Heart

They walked on for a while in silence until Bonnie paused again, frowning. “What do you suppose they have got their heads together about?”

Matilda looked around as Harriet joined them.

“Does that look like plotting to you?” Bonnie said, gesturing across the gardens.

Matilda and Harriet considered the scene some distance from them, where Mr Derby, Lady Frances, and Mrs Drake appeared to be having a private tête à tête. They were standing in the shade of a large tree, hidden from almost every vantage point other than the one they were in at this precise moment.

“Yes,” Harriet said. “Yes, that looks very much like plotting to me.”

“They are going to try to keep Mr Baxter and Kitty apart,” Bonnie said in a harsh whisper.

“They might just be talking,” Matilda said, though even she could see there was something clandestine in the gathering, something furtive in the way they stood, the way they stole glances about them.

“No,” Harriet said, pushing her spectacles up her nose. “Bonnie is right. They believe Mr Baxter means to ensure he marries Kitty, and they intend to thwart him before it happens.”

“Ensure how?” Bonnie demanded, staring at Harriet. “Harry, do you know something?”

Harriet shrugged. “I know lots of things, but no, nothing that I can tell you. I do know trouble when I see it though. We must watch the three of them closely.”

“Oooh,” Bonnie breathed with delight. “An intrigue. How exciting.”

Harriet rolled her eyes before turning back to them. “We must all get ready for dinner as fast as possible. I’ll watch Lady Frances. Bonnie, you take Mr Derby. Matilda, you watch Mrs Drake. Whatever it is they’re plotting, we must stop them.”

***

Kitty was like a cat on hot bricks for the rest of the evening. She had said nothing to her friends about the elopement, though she suspected Harriet must have guessed, as she’d suggested it. She would not tell them anything until they’d left—apparently for their day out—and it was too late for anyone to accidentally give her away or try to dissuade her.

Whether any of them would try, she didn’t know. Harriet would have been the most likely if she’d considered it, but it had been her idea. Matilda wouldn’t like it, Kitty guessed. She would worry, bless her. Kitty smiled. Dear Matilda, she worried about all of them, but she’d do better looking after herself. Kitty had hoped she would be happy with Mr Burton courting her, which he was doing whether or not Matilda had agreed to it. Happiness was not what Kitty saw in her eyes, though. All the sparkle had gone out of her, and she seemed dull and listless.

Somehow, Kitty made it through dinner and up to her room without incident. She’d retired far earlier than usual, not staying to drink tea and wait for the men to return to them after their port, but pretending the archery contest had worn her out… as if!

Now she lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. She would spend tomorrow night with Luke, and the night after, and all the nights to come. A smile curved over her mouth and she wanted to laugh with the joy of it.

She felt quite at peace, with the pleasant thrill of anticipation humming in her blood. It reminded her of so many nights as a child. She would lay awake for hours, too excited to sleep as she’d made plans for a grand adventure with Luke, and the morning could not come soon enough.

A memory returned of one such day. They’d met not long after dawn, as a soft mist still curled over the countryside and the sun shone through it like candlelight through silk. The world was cast in rose and gold, and it had appeared to be a fairyland. She had made Luke laugh by suggesting they look for a unicorn, for surely one must live in such an enchanted place. Far more prosaic Luke had suggested newts were a more accessible target, and they had headed for the river.

They’d spent hours paddling and catching sticklebacks, lying on their bellies and searching for newts and frogs. Jewel-coloured dragonflies had darted back and forth, their wings whirring and clicking as if they were made of paper.

They’d picnicked on what they’d filched from their kitchens: doorstop slices of bread, a hunk of cheese and a slice of apple pie, and bilberries they’d gathered on the way. After lunch, poor Luke had fallen into the river trying to retrieve Kitty’s hat, which had blown away. Amazing to think she’d taken one. She usually didn’t, for she thought them a nuisance, though not as much of a nuisance as Luke had thought that one.

He’d squelched out of the water, sopping and festooned with bright green weed.

“Kitty Connolly, you wretch,” he’d said, glowering and holding her mangled hat by the ribbons. “Why is it always me who gets soaked to the skin?”

Kitty had run to him and kissed his cheek. “Because you’re my brave knight,” she said, laughing. “And you never let me down.”

He’d laughed then, his bad temper forgotten at once, and they’d lain in the sun while he dried, until it was time to go home.

Kitty closed her eyes, reliving the memory and so many others like it. Their lives wound together like the strands in a tapestry, all the colours and textures of their adventures threaded in and out to make the picture she’d seen in her heart, one where they would always be together.

***

“Harry, Tilda, look,” Bonnie whispered, as Lady Frances and Mrs Drake got up to take their leave.

Kitty too had retired unusually early. There was the strangest sense of anticipation in the air, Matilda thought. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but something was afoot. Despite herself she experienced a shiver of excitement.

“We’ll follow them?” she asked, and Harriet nodded. Even serious Harry appeared just as gleeful as Matilda felt, and she knew playing detective must appeal to her.