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Chapter Fifteen
Rose drowsed, full-bellied and content, as the carriage took them back to Langston House.I doubt I’ll eat for days…
She thought of the cold meats, from game hens to cuts of beef and chicken, to the wafer-thin slices of cured venison that had tasted like a mouthful of woodland in the best possible way. And the pickles and the relishes, each bursting with flavors of sweet and sour.
“Do you think she is unwell?” Rose overheard Lord Langston whispering to Lord Bentley. “She is mumbling as though she is delirious. Shall I send for the physician when we return?”
Lord Bentley laughed. “She is satisfied, that is all. A luncheon such as that must be a rarity for her. You and I are the gluttonous pigs who gorge on such delicacies at every meal.”
“But what if it was too rich for her? It might trouble her stomach,” Lord Langston replied. Rose knew she could have opened her eyes and informed them that she was mostly awake, but she desired to listen to them a while longer.
He is concerned about me… I wonder if he would be more concerned if I told him about my father, lurking in the woods at his estate.She had come to realize that she had likely overestimated her father’s determination out of sheer panic when she had heard that shot-like sound. There was no way he would shoot at an Earl, especially not if he hoped to drag her back to London.
As such, she had concluded that the sound was nothing more than rocks breaking, but the fright of it served as a reminder that she would have to go looking for her father when she returned to Langston House to make sure he understood that she would never go back to London.
“Listen to you, clucking over her like a mother hen.” Lord Bentley chuckled. “She will be perfectly well once she has rested, so you should quieten your worrying, lest you wake her.”
“I do not want to have made her poorly, that is all,” Lord Langston replied, with a note of sullenness. “I just wanted her to enjoy the picnic.”
I did enjoy it! Very much so!She wished she could tell him, but that would have revealed that she had been eavesdropping, and she did not know how he would react to that. It was impolite, for one.
Lord Bentley sighed. “She did enjoy it, and she will remember the kindness you showed her today. You did not have to invite her to dine with us, but I am glad that you did. She is an utter delight, and once she is comfortable in the conversation, she is a veritable firecracker of wit and knowledge.”
“She recited Milton,” Lord Langston said, his tone bordering on wistful.
I thought I had bored him.Rose felt inwardly pleased that he seemed to have enjoyed her thoughts on literature and poetry.
Lord Bentley groaned. “Now, that I was not so enamored by, but you know I abhor Milton. You, however, seemed entirely enchanted, but I do not know if it was the Milton that thrilled you or the lady that spoke it so masterfully.” He had a teasing note in his voice that would have made Rose smile if she were not still pretending to sleep.
Lord Langston made a sharp, hissing sound. “Would you be silent! She will hear you!”
“She is asleep. I know a cheese-induced slumber when I see one,” Lord Bentley retorted. “I imagine you shall have to carry her to her chambers.”
“Now, you go too far!” Lord Langston scolded.
“Do I?” Lord Bentley sounded as though he were smirking. “What is the difference between carrying a young lady to her chambers and riding with her upon a horse or pulling her to the ground to save her life? They all require the same actions, my good man.”
Lord Langston sniffed. “You have clearly imbibed too much port. I am going to rest my eyes now, and I shall pray you have obtained sobriety by the time I open them again.”
“Dream of a Paradise Lost, where forbidden fruit is tasted and savored, won’t you?” Lord Bentley hissed a stifled “ouch” as Rose heard a faint thud. Evidently, Lord Langston had delivered a swift punishment to his friend for speaking out of turn.
Secretly, Rose would not have minded hearing more. It was not often that a woman gained insight into the private conversations between male friends. Or, indeed, into Lord Langston’s walled-off mind.
An inky summer darkness had fallen by the time they arrived back at Langston House, and Rose had woken some time ago from her lethargy. Lord Langston and Lord Bentley did not even awaken as the carriage pulled onto the driveway to Langston House, where an owl hooted in the distance, and Rose spotted the shadows of rabbits darting for their warrens.
Are you out there, Father?She peered into the gloom, squinting to try and get a better view of the woodland where she had first seen him that morning. But that was the trouble with darkness… It concealed everything. Stars twinkled overhead, and a sliver of the moon shone, but there was not enough light to illuminate those densely packed trees or anything that loitered within.
“Is it the stag again?” Lord Langston’s whisper startled her.
“Goodness! I thought you were asleep, My Lord,” she whispered back, realizing that Lord Bentley still had not stirred. She had learned through their handful of journeys that Lord Bentley could sleep through just about anything. Likely, a remnant of his time upon battlefields, in which soldiers had to rest with the sound of muskets and cannons as their lullaby. If they could not, they would not sleep at all.
He sat up straighter and nudged Lord Bentley into the corner of the carriage. “I thought I heard you say something.”
“No, I was only watching, My Lord.” She observed his strange eyes in the dim light of the carriage. One could almost believe they were the same color, though she would not have wanted them to be. She liked the uniqueness of one blue, one green. “There is no stag out there at the moment.”
“I have seen him several times of late, though I always supposed him to be a fairytale, told by my father and the staff, to amuse themselves.” Lord Langston settled back against the squabs. “He is supposed to be older than England itself.”
Rose arched an eyebrow. “Surely, that can’t be possible? It’s more likely that the first white stag’s offspring have carried on the legacy.” She hesitated. “Did any of your family have the same eyes as you, as that stag’s lineage has his white coloring?”
