Before the Season Ends (12 page)

If she tore her gown she would never hear the end of it from Aunt Bentley. And bad as that was, it would be nothing next to the disdain that would arise when the whole party saw the result—for, with only the short spencer to wear over her dress, the torn fabric would be impossible to hide. Her legs were cramped and aching, and she was heartily sick of the tree. How foolish of her to climb it!

Ariana made one last attempt to get the ribbon free without having to force it. She could follow the snag with her fingers only so far. She had no choice and would have to let it tear. But wait—she hadn’t thought to pray. She had breathed a prayer earlier about not being discovered, and so far God had been merciful. Mr. Mornay had seen her, but he hadn’t shared his discovery.

Reflecting quickly on her behaviour, Ariana felt utterly unworthy of divine help. But she closed her eyes and prayed nevertheless.
Thank You, Father, that I do not need to earn Your favour. Thank You for freely
giving it to me in Christ. Please help me get out of this tree without tearing my gown!

She continued praying in a low voice, her eyes still closed, ending upon the words, “Oh, help me,
dear
Lord!” A polite cough came from below. She looked down in astonishment and saw that someone—Mr. Mornay!—was looking up at her with a dark countenance. Her heart jumped into her throat. How could it be? How could he have returned so quickly? And, even more puzzling, why?

M
r. Mornay was leaning against the trunk of the tree with his arms folded as if he had been there for an age. He had thick dark hair and brows, and he was looking up at her with an inscrutable expression. He held a walking stick in his gloved right hand and Ariana felt herself blushing to the roots of her hair. He leaned the stick against the tree, removed his coat, and began making his way up toward her, saying a bit sourly, “I believe you are in need of assistance.”

In only seconds he was beside her, and leaning past her shoulder to find the problem, lifted the piece of snagged fabric off the pointed branch that had caught it. He then let himself down to the branch beneath hers. Since Ariana’s seat was a deal higher than where he stood, their eyes were nearly level. Again she was struck by the degree of movement in his dark eyes. And as before, she detected a sense of suppressed pain in his features. But he seemed about to give her a set-down, and she poised herself to receive it, clinging to her branch.

“Miss Forsythe, is it not?” He did not offer to introduce himself.

Ariana nodded, and uttered a faint, “I am much obliged to you, sir.”

He looked at her severely. “You should be. It was exceedingly foolish to leave your friends and come off alone, putting yourself in a vulnerable position. Not only young and attractive, but alone and hidden from general view!” His voice was full of disgust, as if he had never met such a stupid creature in all his life. He paused for a moment.
“Are you not aware of dangers that may present themselves to careless young women like yourself?”

Ariana’s face continued to burn. He must have noted it, but there was no softening on his features. She turned her head to avoid his eyes, now blazing with reproof, and suddenly seething indignation rose up within her. In most cases, her quick temper caused her problems. At this moment it came to her aid. She looked fully at him, meeting the raging sea of his black eyes and dared to defend herself.

“I did not plan, sir, for this to occur!”

“Does that signify?” His voice came out as a hiss, making it abundantly clear that to him, at least, it did not. “Has any young woman with the misfortune of being ill-used ever planned on having it so?”

She stubbornly returned his gaze, unconvinced there had been a risk of such danger. “This is a gathering of genteel people, gentlemen—”

“Gentlemen!” he sputtered, “are capable of the most heinous behaviour that any cove from London’s darkest corners might be! In fact,” he continued ruthlessly, “a gentleman may hazard more danger since he is least likely to suffer the penalty of law for his actions, no matter how abhorrent.” His countenance was fierce, and Ariana felt as ashamed as when her own papa had occasion to scold her.

The logic of what he said made Ariana wonder if she had been at risk. Their eyes were in a deadlock while she weighed the idea. She could not help, again, but to be distracted by his swirling eyes, as different from the norm as hers were said to be. They were like tossing waves, changing before her, and yet not. She boldly met his blistering gaze, however, her own eyes reflective of the resentment she felt for being rudely awakened to dangers she had not imagined.

“I will assist you down.” His voice was cold, but he was careful to hold the trunk with one hand, while receiving her firmly with his free arm as she lowered herself. The pleasant aroma of snuff greeted Ariana as he drew her closer in the rescue. Undoubtedly a fine brand. Many women, including her mama, were repulsed by its odour, but Ariana had never found it unpleasant. She and Mr. Mornay were in close proximity for only a few seconds, but it was enough for her to
have the astonishing thought that not only did he look very nice, but he smelled quite nice, too.

Still holding her about the waist, he reached up and acquired the bonnet, handed it to her, and ordered, “Wait.” He released her and let himself down to the next lower branch, again assisting her as she lowered herself. In that fashion, they made it to the ground. When Ariana was on the last branch he lifted her down with both hands.

She immediately busied herself by brushing off her gown, delaying having to say anything to him for as long as possible. He picked her spencer and reticule off the ground where she had left them, and held them out to her. Ariana took them and offered an obligatory “Thank you.”

She took an apprehensive glance up at him, and found that
he
was studying her. He said nothing, but his countenance seemed less severe than it had earlier, and she decided it was a good time to make an exit.

“I am obliged to you, sir…and indeed, more so…if the danger you referred to was real.”

He let out a soft gasp. “You can doubt it?”

Ariana’s lips were pressed together stubbornly, and she pulled on her gloves with asperity. “If I did not, I could hardly enjoy the solitude I often cherish; I shan’t be the sort of female who thinks there are dangers behind every tree or rock. I should never go out alone, then. Such a confining existence that would be!”

His countenance turned to a scowl. “Young women should not go out alone—or young men, for that matter.” She was surprised by such a sentiment, but then decided it came from residing in London, a crowded city, so unlike her own small town.

“Perhaps I must behave differently here,” she conceded, “though at home, I assure you, young ladies do go forth alone, and think nothing of it.”

“Perhaps they think nothing of being a lady, then.”

Ariana had no answer for this remark and just watched as he put his coat back on. Sophia Worthington’s words, that she “adored watching”
Mr. Mornay suddenly flashed in her mind, and she looked away, embarrassed. He retrieved his cane, while she attempted to smooth her gown again. There were wrinkles in it, and with a sigh she gave up, and then realized he was looking on with obvious distaste.

“Is it that bad?” she asked.

“That depends upon your standard,” was his evasive answer. “That’s what comes of climbing trees in afternoon dress. May I ask what you were doing in the tree?”

She paused, giving him a curious look, but admitted, “I had no idea of climbing it until I saw what a strange, monstrous thing it was; somehow, it just seemed to…beckon to me.”

One dark brow on the masculine face went up faintly, but he looked interested, not scornful, and she was encouraged. “And then I saw that those trunks, horizontal as they are, should make an agreeable vantage point from which to view the house.”

“And so you climbed up,” he finished for her.

“Yes.”

“Right up to that high perch I found you in?”

“Not directly; I went higher for the advantage of a better view… indeed going higher than I intended at first.” He was amused, and Ariana noticed with gratification a sparkle in the dark eyes.

“So you find this property agreeable?”

Ariana glanced around at the neat expanse of lawn and trees and sky and smiled. “I do.” Thinking his silence was disagreement, she asked, “Do you not find it so?” He looked around them, but was silent. Ariana could not help shaking her head and pointed northward. “What a fine prospect! How serene and peaceful! How good for the soul it must be to view it often.”

She glanced at him to find that he was looking at her, not the view, but he turned obediently and looked in the direction she pointed. He nodded, but said nothing. Turning back to her, the dark eyes seemed momentarily troubled, but he quickly regained control and the look was gone.

Ariana felt badly for him. There was something of grief in him.

As they started walking back toward the party, Ariana spoke first. “Will you allow
me
to apprise my aunt of my misadventure?” Her large eyes glittered up at him questioningly.

“You wish to inform her, then?” He was surprised.

“I shan’t lie to her. And after having the entire company after me, I cannot think she will not ask questions.” There was a silence then, and she moaned, “
Everyone
shall know of my folly!”

“What makes you suppose that?” His eyebrows rose.

“Mrs. Bentley is hard pressed to keep anything to herself.” (Mr. Mornay, to his credit, did not so much as blink at this accurate appraisal.) “And now she will be scandalized and perhaps send me packing!” She met his eyes, her own full of resentment against the unjust persecution which she feared was forthcoming.

He studied her, not unkindly. “Packing to where?”

“Chesterton.”

He nodded. “Not more than two days by coach.”

“By carriage, yes, sir, it is. But in its few attractions…it may as well be across the ocean!”

“As bad as that?”

“Worse!” Ariana’s emphatic utterance failed to take into account that she had never been discontented to live in Chesterton for her whole life.

“Not to mention fewer prospects of finding a husband,” he interjected wickedly. But Ariana laughed.

“My prospects here are worse than at home, sir. Back home I am acquainted with a few men who consider the state of their souls before God; I do not think I shall meet so much as one in this company of whom I can say such a thing.”

Now the black brows rose considerably. “You have been instructed, I think, regarding what to expect here.”

Ariana nodded. “Yes.” There was silence for a moment. “And now having been in London—where my papa brought us only once—I have been so close to seeing the British Museum which I have longed to see, art galleries, St. Paul’s Cathedral, Hyde Park, and Vauxhall
Gardens; and so many attractions—only now to be thrust back home without so much as a glimpse! I shall be forever cast down!”

Ariana was amazed to find herself conversing comfortably with the man she had considered rude and arrogant only moments before. His tone and attitude had changed considerably; he now seemed an agreeable gentleman. Indeed, one with understanding and compassion. She did not know what to make of it.

He could not resist making his point yet again. “Perhaps it will serve as a lesson to you, so that in future you are more careful of your surroundings.” This time she did not cavil, choosing to remain silent, until he added, “Be thankful that only your season is ruined, and not something much worse.”

This was provoking. “Your misapprehensions are without warrant,” she said, trying unsuccessfully to hide her annoyance. “I fail to see danger. These grounds were safe when I arrived, and so they are, now.” They stopped walking, and Mr. Mornay crossed his arms while receiving the brunt of her indignation. Her tone calmed. “You are too strong in your case, sir.”

He said nothing for a moment, but then, in a smooth, low voice stated chillingly, “You are assuming, of course, that I myself could pose no danger to you.” Ariana blinked and felt a little grip of fear on her heart. She said nothing. He leaned in closer upon her and asked, in that same sinewy voice, “Do you know for a fact that I pose no danger to you?” His voice was silken and smooth and—scary. Her eyes widened, but he suddenly retreated. “As a matter of fact, I do not.”

“I never thought as much.” There was relief in her voice.

He turned forbidding eyes on her. “But for all you knew, I could have! You obviously afford yourself the luxury of trusting strangers. No young woman, no matter how well off she is, can afford that!”

“I—I beg your pardon.” She had nearly stammered, and flushed pink. He looked at her steadily for a moment, and then held out his arm.

“Come. I shall return you to your aunt.”

Shyly, she accepted his arm. She had seldom been escorted by
anyone other than her father, and it was pleasant to be led by Mr. Mornay. In addition, she recalled how he had not offered his arm to Lady Covington, earlier, and she was flattered that he had done so for her.