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“Good lord, it is a wonder we sat together for as long as we did,” Annie confessed in a whisper as Peggy led her down one of the avenues through the garden.
There were high yew bushes on either side, masking them completely from where the tea party was set up at the rear of the house. The more they wandered, the greater distance they moved from the house, wandering under yellow laburnums and through borders of tulips.
“Why did you sit with him, Annie?” Peggy asked with a laugh on her lips. “He is a nice man, but the two of you share as much excitement between you as two puddles made of rainwater.”
“Ergh, what an odd description, but yes, I take your meaning,” Annie accepted with a sigh. “I sat with him and talked with him, because my mother’s glare would not brook a refusal. She wishes to see me married. The little income we have means it must be soon.” Annie chewed her lip, trying not to dwell on the matter.
It was how she coped at times. It was almost as if she could ignore the fact there was so little an annuity to support her mother and herself, but every now and then, the reality would creep up and remind her.
“I think Mama sees Mr Knight as a viable option for a husband,” Annie said in a low voice, trying to keep the disappointment out of her voice. The way Peggy tapped her hand in comfort showed she had failed.
“I suppose that for some ladies, it is not always possible to choose who we marry.” She considered her book and all the marriages Moll Flanders had been through, the pains and the pleasant times too. “It is a long time to commit yourself to a man whom you cannot….”
“Cannot what?” Peggy asked. “Be attracted to?”
“No! I was going to say whose company you cannot really enjoy, but now that you mention it,” Annie hesitated, seeing the way Peggy was eying her, “yes, an attraction is certainly important too.”
“I quite agree.” Peggy nodded. “You should have heard my cousin going on at length last night of all the suitors he had found for me. His favourite was a man twice as old as us, Annie. An even greater fear I have is that if the rumours are to be believed, then he enjoyed the company of his valet more than his last wife. If the man likes his valet, then let him be with his valet. He and I would clearly be poor company for one another.”
Annie smiled at her friend’s wit and nodded in agreement.
“When I was young, I used to think finding a husband would be rather easy. I was always practical, Peggy. I thought of proper marriages, the financial positions, the eligibility. I did not allow myself to run away with romantic notions.” Annie shook her head as if the mere mention of such a thing was nonsense.
“And now?” Peggy asked, bringing her to a stop under one of the yellow laburnums.
“I do not know exactly,” Annie whispered, looking down at the grass between them. “I wish to enjoy the company of my husband. Is that so mad an idea to ask for?”
“Not at all.” Peggy shook her head. “Maybe it is something that is possible.”
Annie had many reasons why she could argue it was not possible, but she did not have the time to answer any of them, for there were sounds up ahead. Two gentlemen were talking and laughing together. It made Annie and Peggy pause with their conversation.
“I know that voice,” Peggy said.
“I know the other,” Annie murmured, recognising Lord Yeatman’s hearty laugh by now.
They turned their heads just as Lord Yeatman and Mr Barton appeared at the end of the garden path through a couple of tall yew bushes. Lord Yeatman was the first to see the two of them practically stumbling over some leaves of sprawling tulips. Mr Barton grabbed his arm to stop his friend from falling, before looking up to see what had startled him.
“Ah, Miss Grove, Miss Storey,” he said, crossing the last distance toward them with eagerness. “How fortunate we were to meet you just now. Because you two were the topic of our conversation.”
“We were?” Annie said in surprise, turning her focus on Lord Yeatman. He approached her with a smile growing on his lips, but not as fast as Mr Barton had done.
“Yet do we wish to know what was being said of us, Mr Barton?” Peggy asked, lifting her chin higher. “Annie, we might wish to leave at once and not know at all.”
“We could never have anything bad to say,” Mr Barton said with a laugh and offered his arm to Peggy.
Before Annie could think of asking Peggy to stay with her, her friend had released her arm and taken up Mr Barton’s. Annie watched with her mouth agape as Peggy walked down the path with Mr Barton. Lord Yeatman laughed as he moved to Anne’s side.
“Shall we follow them as chaperones, do you think?” he said playfully.
“Yes! Or goodness knows what people will think if they’re seen returning to the tea party alone.” She chased after them, with Lord Yeatman hurrying along at her side. He took her hand a few steps later. “What are you doing?”
“Let us do our friends a favour and at least give them a little freedom.” He held her back a second, allowing Peggy and Mr Barton to increase the distance a little, so they were still being chaperoned but could talk freely.
“Very well. You may release my hand now.”
“I could, or I could do this.” Lord Yeatman looped Annie’s hand through his arm so that it rested on the crook of his elbow before leading her forward. Annie tried to fight the smile at his touch. It was a simple thing, barely there at all really, yet it had an effect on her regardless.
“Something tells me you are toying with me, my lord.”
