Page 7 of Indecently Daring

Alana nodded, somewhat comforted to know even Cat, with her beauty and all her advantages, was feeling out of her depth as this pivotal moment in their lives loomed before them. Mama had guessed at the depths of Alana’s anxiety and had taken pity, suggesting she spend some time with her Aunt Harriet and Uncle Jasper. Aunt Harriet loved to entertain and often gave lavish parties. She had become a powerful figure in society, and though most people would soon leave the country for the London season, there was still a little time left for Harriet to help Alana find her feet in a safer environment before she was thrust into the cutthroat world of London society. Maybe she could even teach her some manners before the ton inevitably labelled her a hoyden. But then the Cadogan girls had always borne that title, courtesy of their irreverent mother, who still caused a stir wherever she went, even now.

“I don’t want to go to London, Cat. I know it’s foolish, but I can’t bear it. I so wish I were more like Mama,” Alana said with a sigh. “She simply loves life, and people, and she doesn’t give a tinker’s cuss what those people think of her. She says other people’s opinions are none of our business and we ought not regard them.”

“She’s very wise, your mama,” said Cat with a grin.

Alana laughed, nodding. “As she is the happiest person I know, I can only agree, for surely it is wisest to be happy, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is. So, let’s do that, Lana. Let’s be happy.”

Alana’s lips quirked into a smile, and she held out her hand to Cat. “I will if you will.”

“A deal,” Cat replied decisively, and they shook upon it.

“Good morning, my lady,” Harry said with a smile, opening the door to the village hall to let in Lady St Clair. “You’re early.”

“The early bird catches the worm, Reverend,” the countess said with a bright smile.

Harry laughed, charmed as always by the lady’s boundless energy. “Well, I have set up the tables and chairs. Just how many worms are you expecting?”

“I’m uncertain. A dozen, perhaps, but the appeal of a charity auction appears to be working upon the community. It was a good idea of Alana’s. She’s a bright girl.”

“I’m certain she is,” Harry replied politely, though he did not enjoy the girl’s presence. He did not feel easy when she was nearby and had avoided speaking to her directly ever since she’d arrived. Inevitably in such a tight-knit community their paths crossed often, but she seemed aware of his discomfort and kept her distance too. Harry knew he was being ridiculous, but her strangely piercing eyes disturbed him. They were not the startling turquoise of her uncle’s, the earl, but she had inherited something of that blue tinted sea-green hue, and a way of looking at one as though she knew all your secrets. It was an uncomfortable sensation and one he was keen to avoid.

As if he had summoned her with the thought, Harry turned at that moment to see Miss Cadogan and Lady Catherine enter the hall. By rights, he ought to have been dazzled by Lady Catherine, who was surely Aphrodite in the flesh, the most stunning creature he had ever seen, but it was Artemis that drew his attention, and kept it. A shaft of sunlight pierced the early morning gloom of the hall and suddenly there she was, the goddess of the hunt, of the wilderness and the great outdoors, standing in a puddle of golden sunlight. The hall seemed suddenly all wrong, too small to contain her lively spirit, and he sensed her impatience with the dark, musty interior, her desire to be outside under the blue sky. She was dressed all in green and she turned then, those too-bright eyes meeting his. Harry’s breath caught, and he forced himself to look away, to drag his attention from her and back to the work he was supposed to do here today. He did not have the time or the energy for such nonsense. He had committed himself to serve God, to serve his community to the best of his ability, and he did not need distractions of that nature to tempt him from his purpose. He had a job to do, and do it he would.

Once everyone was gathered, Lady St Clair greeted the assembled company. As well as the countess and her four guests, there was the countess’ sister-in-law, Mrs Florence Stanhope; Mrs Grace Oak; Mr and Mrs Bishop who ran The Lamb, the pub in the village; Mrs Stevens from the general store; the elderly Dr Haysom; Miss Dudley, a kindly spinster who looked at Harry as if she stood in the presence of a divine being; and, inevitably, Miss Hatchet. Harry forced his mind away from the uncharitable thoughts that stirred there at the sight of the aptly named woman. Miss Hatchet was a mean-spirited gossip and troublemaker, and the only person who tolerated her company was Miss Dudley. Everyone found this entirely incomprehensible, for Miss Dudley was a sweet-natured if fussy creature who never had a bad word for anyone.

“Thank you all for coming,” Harry said, greeting them all with a smile. “As I believe you know, Lady St Clair has kindly offered to host a charity auction to raise funds for the boys’ school. This would enable us to employ a full-time teacher, to bolster my sorry efforts, and so we might create a canteen that provides hot meals and employ a cook to work in it. A most worthy albeit ambitious undertaking, I know, but with the support of such an enthusiastic committee, I feel confident we can achieve our aim. I understand you have already made a contribution, Mrs Bishop?”

“Aye, that’s right,” Mrs Bishop said proudly. “Four vouchers for a roast dinner at the Lamb, and a full dinner mind, with dessert and cheese. Wine, too, so it’s a decent sum to give away.”

“Indeed, it is most generous. You are an example to us all,” Harry said warmly, for he knew Mrs Bishop still viewed him with deep suspicion, offended that in the nearly five years he’d been in this parish, he’d never set foot in her comfortable inn, despite the reputation it had for good ale and excellent food. “I’m certain it will attract an enthusiastic response.”

“Bloomin’ well ought to,” Mr Bishop muttered glumly.

Harry ignored this and turned his attention to Miss Dudley, who had given a nervous little cough.

“I’m knitting scarves and mittens,” she offered with a shy smile, lifting her knitting needles, which had been clicking away incessantly as they spoke.

“An excellent effort, Miss Dudley, thank you,” Harry said, clearing his throat as she flushed pink with pleasure.

“I have some rather magnificent cauliflowers,” Dr Haysom offered. “I would be happy to donate some to the cause, and my wife has offered a fruit cake. She makes a marvellous fruitcake,” he added, looking a little wistful.

“I always find it rather dry,” Miss Hatchet murmured to Miss Dudley, who shot a panicked glance towards Harry.

“That’s excellent, Dr Haysom,” Harry replied enthusiastically, relieved that Haysom had become rather deaf of late, and feigning ignorance of Miss Hatchet’s words. “Mrs Oak? I believe you have a donation too?”

Mrs Oak nodded, and Harry smiled. She was a lovely woman, delicate and gently spoken and Harry very much liked her husband, Sterling, who was a decent, hardworking fellow.

“A spring lamb, and a cask of ale.”

“You’d best put a warning on that ale,” Mrs Stanhope said with a laugh. “It’s dangerous stuff. I still remember Lord Bainbridge face down in your lavender bush after having sampled it.”

Mrs Oak grinned mischievously. “Sterling says it kicks like a mule.”

Harry turned as he felt eyes upon him to discover Miss Cadogan watching him curiously. It was only then that he realised he was scowling and hastily rearranged his face. No doubt the young woman thought him a dreadful killjoy. The thought irritated him more than it ought, and he forced his attention back to the meeting.

By the time everyone had made their donations, including some very fine wood carvings by Lady St Clair’s husband, and a beautifully bound set of Dickens novels from the lady herself, they had a very respectable start to the auction. Lady Catherine and Miss Cadogan were to be escorted by Dr Haysom to all the wealthiest houses in the parish in order to wheedle out as generous a donation to the proceedings as they could, and Mrs Stanhope had offered her services to paint signs that would be placed around the village to inform people of the upcoming event. Miss Cadogan had also suggested a tombola might be a good idea, so that even those who could not afford to bid at the auction could have a chance of winning something, which Harry had to admit was an excellent notion. They were just about to wrap things up for the morning when there was a knock on the door, which opened to reveal three young women.