Under the Harvest Moon: A Bluestocking Belles with Friends collection by unknow

Author:unknow
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9798985587449
Publisher: Bluestocking Belles
Published: 2023-10-09T18:30:00+00:00

Fleur watched the emotions play across Gareth’s handsome face. He looked positively ashen this morning, as if he’d received bad news, and his normal sure-footed jolliness had been replaced with uncertainty and hesitation.

He wanted time with her and that was the one thing she couldn’t stomach right now.

Mr. Farnham was interested in her. She could feel it down to her baby toes. And he was—or might be—perfect for her. He was ruggedly handsome in an older sort of way, well-spoken and seemingly intelligent, and had legs that would meet with Dulcinea’s approval.

She must avoid time alone with Gareth. Must, must, must. If he touched her as he’d done yesterday… if he kissed her, if he asked for her hand…

Of course, he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. Her plan was a good one. She must follow through with it.

“Do run along, Captain Ardleigh,” she said. “I have promised to spend the afternoon with the girls in the schoolroom.”

“Working on their French?” he asked.

Her knuckles whitened around the lines she was gripping. “Needlework,” she said.

His face relaxed into the start of a grin and his eyes brightened. “Ah. Embroidery. I recall that was a specialty of yours.”

That dreadful handkerchief. How had he remembered?

Oh, but it touched her heart that he did, and embarrassed her too. Though she’d been awfully proud of it, it had been a clumsy piece of work. “More likely we will be darning ripped frocks and torn stockings.” She clucked and the horses moved on.

So what that he remembered her farewell gift? He’d no doubt chucked it into the nearest privy as soon as he’d waved goodbye.

She glanced behind her and saw his proud back moving down the lane.

The wind blew a chill under her shawl, and she bit her lip, straightened her shoulders and drove on.

At Bicton Grange, Fleur hurried to grab her workbasket, and found Dulcinea exiting Helena’s bedchamber.

“She’s resting,” Dulcinea said. “I declare, seeing Helena’s discomfort, I’m glad Ixworth never got me with child. Bring your work and come along to the parlor. Cook has all the girls in the kitchen baking cakes for the festival.”

Dulcinea made her way to a fireside chair in the parlor and settled in. “Now, have a look at this note.”

Fleur unfolded the paper, scanned the first line, and looked up. “It’s an invitation to dinner tonight at Sherington Hall. From Sherington, not Mrs. Smythe, and addressed My Dear Dulcy. Is there something you haven’t told me?” She held the paper to her nose and sniffed it.

Dulcinea turned her gaze to the fire, a wicked smile forming.

Fleur glanced at the rest of the note. Laurence had returned to London, but Captain Ardleigh and Mr. Farnham would join them.

“I see. Did you reply?”

“We are going. Did you meet Mr. Farnham today?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

Fleur shrugged. “On the face of things, he is highly unobjectionable.”

Dulcinea laughed merrily. “My gel,” she said, wiping tears. “Oh my gel. In any case, you must wear the primrose gown.”

“But that is your—”

“It’s yours now. It will show the man you have a bosom worth looking at.

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