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Chapter 8
After luncheon and a rousinggame of blind man’s buff that Ben chose to simply observe, the adults were invited to proceed to the music room, while Mrs. Isaac Jennings and Wynn took the younger children to the nursery for naps and quiet play. A few of the older children, including Mary, were invited to join the adults for the afternoon entertainments.
Thomas and Isobel excused themselves from the entertainments, however, claiming Mrs. Jennings, who was with child, needed to rest, which made perfect sense to Ben. He remembered how fatigued Gemma had been when she’d been expecting Rose. She had spent a great deal of time in her private suite of rooms, resting and writing letters to her parents and friends.
“May I assist you to your feet?” he asked Rebecca, who was still seated on the blanket.
“Yes, thank you,” she said.
He extended both of his hands to her, which she took in her own, and then he helped her to a standing position as Lucas picked up her crutches and handed them to her. “Are you feeling steady?” Ben asked her. “I noticed before that there are a few uneven spots in the lawn.” He hoped his voice sounded normal. What he really wished to do was take her into his arms like he had the very first day he had met her, but that would never do now.
“I shall be fine,” she assured him.
Lucas shot him a glance, but Ben ignored it.
He walked next to her, ready to assist should she have the need, until she was inside the manor house and near the music room. “You see how accomplished I am with crutches now, Lord Winton,” she said. “I fear I won’t know how to get about without them once my ankle is fully healed.”
He hated that she’d referred to him as Lord Winton. “I imagine remembering how to walk without the aid of crutches will return to you swiftly, as will your ability to dance. You will be gracing the village halls and ballrooms with your dancing very soon, to the delight of all who shall witness it.”
They’d fully reached the music room now, so Ben initially thought nothing of Rebecca’s sudden change of direction to a chair near the pianoforte until he realized there were no other empty chairs near it. He’d been given what amounted to the cut direct. His words had apparently offended, but what he had said was nothing short of the truth. He himself longed to dance with her, to have the excuse of taking her into his arms for a waltz, despite her brothers’ scrutiny of him and despite his own words to them of his having no intentions toward their sister.
Except he did have strong feelings for her, feelings he didn’t intend to pursue at present, however, for both their sakes.
The chairs had been arranged to create an open area at one side of the room, with the pianoforte nearby, thus creating a sort of stage for an audience. Conversations and activity of all sorts buzzed around him, so he sat on the opposite side of the room from the pianoforte, near the back, by himself.
Until Miss Mary sat next to him.
“It is always great fun when Aunt Delia, Uncle Artie, and Aunt Lavinia come to visit,” she said. “Uncle Lucas says it’s better than anything you could wish to see in London, but of course they performed in London, didn’t they? I wonder what it must have been like.” Her eyes turned dreamy. “I can just imagine the lights and elegant costumes and jewels and feathers. Papa says such adornments are worldly and that we should be modest in our dress, but I can’t help wondering . . .”
Ben saw the same dreams in little Miss Mary that he’d observed in Rebecca when she’d described her desire to have a Season. “Your papa is undoubtedly correct in his views of modesty, but allow me to assure you that you need no adornments to be beautiful, Miss Mary,” Ben said.
“We are ready to begin now, I think,” Lavinia Jennings announced with a laugh after moving to stand next to the pianoforte and clapping to get everyone’s attention. “Artie? Weareready, are we not?”
“Oh, aye,” the old man said with a wink and rose to his feet. “Come join me now, little lads and lasses.”
Mary rose to her feet. “That’s me; we practiced our bit yesterday,” she whispered before dashing up next to Artie along with little Annabel and three young boys who had all been involved in the blind man’s buff game. Ben noticed that Rebecca had moved to sit at the pianoforte.
“And now,” Artie Drake boomed—he truly did have the voice of an actor—“we present for your enjoyment: the daring young knight and the beautiful maiden.”
Rebecca played a sort of fanfare on the pianoforte after his pronouncement.
Right before Ben’s eyes, Mr. Drake ceased to be an old man. He crouched and stalked and hissed and roared. He lunged at little Annabel, making Ben rise partly from his chair in reaction. Annabel’s eyes grew huge, her hands flew up in defense, and she squealed, “Oh my! The dreaded dragon has returned! Whatever shall we do?”
Ben relaxed back into his chair.
Annabel grinned at her mama, who beamed and nodded at her. “She’s been working on her lines since yesterday,” Ben overheard Clara Jennings whisper to Lucas Jennings, who was seated next to her.
“Come, sister dear,” Mary said, enunciating each word clearly. “We must hide! Oh, if only there were a brave knight to save us from the dreaded dragon!”
Mr. Drake roared and slashed through the air with his arms. The little girls squealed. Rebecca played some dramatic-sounding music in the background.
It was all rather similar to some of the sketches he’d seen performed on Drury Lane and was actually quite amusing thus far, Ben thought.
The three little boys each took a turn at dispatching the evil dragon using small wooden swords that had most likely come from their toy chests, and one by one, the evil dragon felled each boy. Each boy performed a magnificent death scene—the eldest, in particular, swayed across the makeshift stage area, moaning and flailing his arms and finally collapsing into a wriggling heap on the floor, and then, with a final shudder, he died.
Great applause followed.
The deceased knights, lying on the floor, tried to stay in character, but it was too difficult for the youngest boy, who opened his eyes and grinned.
