The Pursuit of Lady Harriett (Tanglewood Book 3) Page 2

  Rather than bid her farewell, he glanced past her at the house. “Actually, I was hoping you would offer me a cup of tea and perhaps a bite or two of something to eat. I confess to feeling quite famished.”

  Of course you are, Harriett thought in frustration, knowing she could not send him packing no matter how much she would like to do so. She was but a guest at Tanglewood and had no business turning away an old friend of Jonathan’s.

  She mustered as polite an expression as she could. “Of course, Lieutenant. How thoughtless of me not to offer you some refreshment. If you would care to follow me inside, I will see that you get something to eat. But you must forgive me for not joining you. As you have already noted, I am unfit for the parlor in my current state.”

  “Of course.” He gestured for her to precede him, the only gentlemanly thing he’d done thus far, so she picked up her skirts and led him into the house.

  As soon as they entered the great hall, Watts emerged from the kitchen, and his large, square body created a welcoming picture. He took one look at Harriett, and his bushy gray eyebrows creased in concern. “My lady, are you all right? You appear to have taken a fall.”

  Harriett could have hugged the man for his thoughtfulness. “How kind of you to care about my well-being, Watts,” she said. “But other than my untidy appearance, I am quite all right. This, er… gentleman”—she had to force herself to say the word—“is Lord Jonathan’s friend, Lieutenant Christopher Jamison. Will you show him into the parlor and ask that Sally bring him some tea and refreshment? And please let Tabby know that I am in need of her assistance as well.”

  “Of course, my lady. Right this way, sir.”

  The lieutenant did not immediately follow. Instead, he offered Harriett a casual bow. “It was a delight to make your acquaintance, Lady Harriett.”

  “And I, yours,” she lied. “Good day to you.”

  She turned and ascended the steps, anxious to be away from the man’s unnerving gaze. Once she reached the safety of her bedchamber, she allowed herself a sigh of relief. She had done her duty. She had received the lieutenant, relayed Jonathan’s message, and had even offered him some refreshment. Now she was free to relax and rid her mind of all disagreeable thoughts concerning the arrogant man. He would be long gone by the time she had bathed and dressed, and she would not be required to speak to him ever again.

  NEARLY TWO HOURS LATER, a bark of masculine laughter met Harriett’s ears as she descended the staircase. It came from the direction of the parlor and caused her to stiffen and strain to hear more. Oh no. Surely that man was not still here, was he?

  “I don’t believe I have ever been called dimwitted before, ma’am.” came that West Country burr, much to Harriett’s frustration.

  For goodness’ sake, why was he still here? And to whom was he speaking? Harriett had been at Tanglewood for a week with no visitors at all—not one. But only two hours after Lieutenant Jamison’s arrival, a caller happens by? Had the woman come to see him? Was he now playing host when he ought to be riding his wicked horse back to London?

  Lieutenant Jamison was like a burr caught in her stockings, snagging, pulling, and poking in the most irritating way.

  “You’re twisting my words, sir,” said the woman. “I was not calling you dimwitted, only your plans. Surely you cannot mean to return to London without seeing Lord Jonathan. He will be most disappointed to come home and find his friend long gone.”

  There was no mistaking that rich, authoritative voice. Apparently, Mrs. Bidding had not forgotten about Harriett after all. At the wedding breakfast, she’d promised to call on Harriett and invite her to dinner, but a week had come and gone without a word from the woman—until now, that is, when her timing could not have been more inopportune. Could Mrs. Bidding not have waited to call until after the lieutenant had departed?

  “Lady Harriett,” boomed Watts’s voice from behind, startling her. “You are looking much improved.”

  His loud timbre had undoubtedly alerted those gathered in the parlor to her presence, making Harriett think unkind thoughts about the butler’s timing as well. Resigned that she would be required to speak to the lieutenant once more, she sighed. “Thank you, Watts. I feel much improved.”

  “Mr. and Mrs. Bidding have only just arrived. I took the liberty of showing them into the parlor and introducing Lieutenant Jamison.”

  “Oh. How… delightful.” If the Biddings had only just arrived, why was the lieutenant still here? Had he taken up a book and made himself cozy by the fire? Did he plan to settle in for the day and stay through supper as well?

  That man!

  “Now that you have come down,” added Watts, “I shall have Mrs. Caddy brew a fresh pot of tea for you.”

  Tea sounded heavenly at the moment. “Thank you.”

  As the butler’s footsteps faded away, Harriett drew in a fortifying breath and forced her legs to carry her across the great hall. The parlor was a small room with only two chairs and a settee. As Mr. and Mrs. Bidding occupied the settee, only the chair next to the lieutenant’s remained empty.

  She pasted a welcoming smile on her lips. “Why, Mr. and Mrs. Bidding, how good of you to come.”

  Mr. Bidding stood immediately, as any gentleman would, but the lieutenant seemed to take his cue from the older man, standing a second or two later. Harriett briefly wondered if he would have bothered to stand at all if Mr. Bidding had not shown him how he ought to behave when a lady entered the room.

  Harriett gracefully took a seat and clasped her fingers neatly in her lap. Ignoring the lieutenant, she directed a smile at the Biddings, who happened to be the oddest couple she had ever met. Where Mrs. Bidding was tall and willowy, with almost masculine features, Mr. Bidding was short, portly, and bald.

  “We must apologize for leaving you alone at Tanglewood for so long,” said Mrs. Bidding. “I’m sure you’ve felt quite abandoned this week, what with the Shepherds gone to see their new grandson and the Ludlows away. We had every intention of visiting daily and inviting you to dine, but our roof sprang a leak and we were forced to realign our priorities.”

  “How dreadful,” said Harriett. “Of course you must attend to your house. Please do not fret on my account. I assure you I have been perfectly comfortable. How is your roof? Have you been able to make the necessary repairs?”

  “Yes, thank heavens. But with all the rain we’ve had, it took much longer than we’d hoped.”

  “I’m glad it is in working order once more,” said Harriett, casting a glance at the lieutenant. Good manners dictated that she include him in the conversation, but she rather liked hearing silence from that quarter. He did not offend when he did not speak.

  Mrs. Bidding didn’t seem to share that opinion. “Lieutenant Jamison has been telling us that he is to return to London on the morrow and will miss seeing Lord Jonathan. Is that not a tragedy?”

  Harriett managed a sympathetic smile even though she did not think it tragic in the least. “Indeed. It would be frustrating to embark on such a long and arduous journey, only to have it prove fruitless.”

  “I would not call it fruitless, my lady,” the lieutenant said. “Along the way I met with friends and potential business associates, and now I have had the great pleasure of making your and the Biddings’ acquaintance as well. That alone has made the trip worthwhile.”

  “You are too kind, sir,” said a very pleased Mrs. Bidding.

  Harriett, on the other hand, was not fooled. The lieutenant’s words lacked sincerity, and it bothered her greatly that he suddenly found it in his best interests to be polite. Apparently he thought the Biddings more deserving of courtesy.

  “I would happily remain in Askern to await Jonathan’s return,” Lieutenant Jamison said, “had I not already promised to meet my parents in London at the end of the week. Family obligations, unfortunately, must take precedence over a visit with an old friend, wouldn't you agree, Mrs. Bidding?”

  “Certainly. That is to say, unless your obligations could b
e waylaid a week or so without any harm. It seems a shame to take your leave prematurely when you have come all this way. Surely your parents would understand.”

  He shrugged and smoothed his hands over the arms of the chair. “Perhaps they would, but in all honesty, I have no wish to settle in at the inn and twiddle my thumbs for a week while I await Jonathan’s return. I’m afraid a visit with him will have to be postponed until the conclusion of the season.”

  “But you will not be staying at the inn,” pronounced Mrs. Bidding. “You shall stay with us, of course.”

  A flicker of surprise and perhaps panic appeared in the lieutenant’s expression before he schooled his features and shook his head. “It is good of you to offer, madam, but I could never impose upon the kindness of strangers.”

  “Nonsense,” she said. “We are strangers no more, sir, and any friend of Lord Jonathan’s is a friend of ours, especially a military man. Isn't that right, dearest?” She patted her husband's knee as though prompting him in the correct response.

  “Yes, yes. Quite right,” he said.

  “You would not guess as much,” Mrs. Bidding added, “but Mr. Bidding was an officer back in his day. His experiences have given us a great deal of respect for any and all soldiers, and it would be an honor to welcome you into our home, sir.”

  Mr. Bidding nodded agreeably. “An honor indeed to host a fellow comrade in arms.”

  Harriett couldn’t have been more surprised by the news. Mr. Bidding had been an officer? He certainly did not have the air of command that the lieutenant, or even his wife, had. Perhaps when they had married, he’d passed all of his command along to her.

  The lieutenant seemed to squirm a bit in his chair at the Biddings’ persistence, and Harriett held back a smile. With anyone else, she would have come to his aid, but the man inspired no sympathy in her whatsoever. In fact, she rather liked seeing him squirm. Mrs. Bidding was a difficult woman to deflect, and Harriett looked forward to seeing how the lieutenant would extricate himself from the situation. Perhaps his earlier rudeness would emerge for all to see.

  “How lucky you are, Lieutenant,” said Harriett, yielding to a wicked urge to increase his discomfort. “I’m certain the Biddings don’t welcome just anyone into their home. It is an honor, indeed, to be offered such a rare treat.”

  She awaited his response with amusement, half expecting him to leap from his chair and make a hasty retreat. But he did no such thing. Instead, his eyes met hers in what appeared to be some sort of assessment. After a moment, the discomfort faded from his expression as he settled back in his seat and clasped his fingers over his waist.

  He smiled warmly at the Biddings. “Lady Harriett is quite right. I would be a fool to pass on your offer. If you are certain I would not be an inconvenience, I would love nothing more than to await my friend’s return as your guest.”

  “Wonderful.” Mrs. Bidding clapped her hands in a show of delight. “And Lady Harriett, of course you will be included in all of our plans as well, beginning with dinner this evening. Do say you will join us.”

  Harriett blinked, dumfounded. What had just happened? She had been so certain Lieutenant Jamison had no wish to stay, but now he’d agreed to do exactly that for at least a week and possibly even longer? How could that be? He was a former lieutenant in the navy, for goodness’ sake. Where was the man’s fortitude—his ability to hold strong despite the pressures surrounding him?

  One glance in his direction, and Harriett had her answer. The amused triumph lurking in his eyes said it all. It was as though he had just made a highly calculated move and called out, Check.

  She had to clench her jaw to keep it from falling open in astonishment. Did he truly mean to punish himself so that he could punish her as well? Was the man so wretched as that? Apparently. He’d professed to be of a wicked nature, after all.

  “Lady Harriett,” said Mrs. Bidding. “Are you attending? I asked if you are able to dine with us this evening.”

  The lieutenant leaned forward in his chair to look at Harriett, his smile far too satisfied. “You have just been offered a rare treat, my lady. I’m quite certain the Biddings do not invite just anyone to sup with them. Surely you will not deny us the pleasure of your company.”

  Harriett attempted not to scowl but couldn’t be sure if she’d succeeded or not. Her plans had gone dreadfully awry, and she had no one to blame but herself. She had known the lieutenant’s true nature and should have expected his response. Why could she not have left well enough alone—or better yet, helped to extricate him from the Biddings’ invitation? If so, he would soon be on his way back to London.

  Instead, she had no choice but to acquiesce. With tight lips, she said, “I would be delighted to join you for dinner, Mr. and Mrs. Bidding.”

  “Wonderful.”

  With that settled, the Biddings and the lieutenant took their leave. As Mr. Bidding helped his wife with her pelisse, Harriett snuck a glare at the lieutenant. He responded with a smirk and even had the temerity to tip his hat in her direction as he walked outside.

  Harriett seethed as she closed the door behind them, thinking unladylike thoughts about retaliation. She had been taught many times that revenge did not answer, and for the most part, she had always agreed with such wisdom. But as the lieutenant strode confidently down the steps, she decided that sometimes it was all right to exact a little revenge, and this happened to be one of those times.

  SOMETIME DURING THE AFTERNOON, the skies finally cleared and the sun made a long overdue appearance. The lovely change in weather inspired the Biddings to push back dinner half an hour so the foursome could take a stroll through the still-dormant gardens. Although Harriett always enjoyed an invigorating walk, especially on a glorious evening such as this, she did not appreciate the narrowness of the pathways, nor the fact that Mr. and Mrs. Bidding had moved ahead and were now absorbed by the antics of their pampered Yorkshire terrier, leaving Harriett to entertain Lieutenant Jamison on her own.

  “It’s a lovely evening, is it not?” he said.

  Harriett almost laughed. Already he was commenting on the weather? Goodness, this conversation was certainly doomed to failure.

  “Yes,” she answered, running her palm across the tips of some tall, brown grasses that they passed. The gardens were beautifully organized, with stone-lined pathways meandering through the various arrangements of leafless hedges and plants. But at this time of year, it appeared like a tangle of stems and branches.

  Lieutenant Jamison clasped his hands behind his back, and after a few moments of strained silence, tried again. “Poor Mr. Bidding. To be compelled to lead about such a feminine-looking dog. How unmanly he must feel at the moment.”

  Harriett eyed the couple ahead of them. The terrier was small as all terriers were, with short legs and a round middle. Its white, brown, and black hair had been left to grow long enough to brush into soft, straight lines. Harriett couldn’t deny that Mr. Bidding did look rather silly doting over such a dog, but she would never admit as much to the lieutenant. And besides, the Biddings were a little odd, so it suited them.

  The terrier stopped to sniff at something, and Mr. Bidding paused as well, turning back to look at the animal with an expression one could only describe as indulgent.

  “He doesn’t seem to mind the task so very much,” commented Harriett. “In fact, he appears enamored of the creature, and who can blame him? The dog is adorable.”

  “Adorable for a woman, perhaps. Utterly ridiculous for a man. Mr. Bidding really ought to acquire a foxhound or a mastiff—a man’s dog.”

  Harriett cocked her head at him. “You dare to call your host ridiculous, sir?”

  “Of course not. I only said he has the appearance of it when he’s leading that dog about. The animal has a pink bow in its hair for pity’s sake.”

  Harriett barely stopped herself from laughing. “Heaven forbid a man show an interest in anything so darling. I wonder, sir, should you ever have a little girl with a bow in her hair, w
ill you shy away from her? Or perhaps you would dress her up as a boy so that she would not have such a negative effect on your masculinity.”

  He smiled a little. “Dress a daughter up as a boy? Don’t be absurd.”

  “I believe it is you who are being absurd.”

  “I am not the one comparing a canine to a little girl.”

  Harriett rolled her eyes. Speaking with the lieutenant was like trying to have a conversation with a stubborn child. She swished her rose skirts away from a prickly bush, refusing to continue such a silly conversation.

  “Tell me, Lady Harriett, where do you hail from?” Apparently he did not prefer to walk in silence as she did.

  “Heaven, of course,” Harriett quipped, causing him to chuckle. It was a nice sound—deep and rich and perfectly melodious, as though he had taken lessons on how to laugh in the most pleasing way. How irritating.

  “What about you, sir? Do you come from Heaven as well, or… someplace else?”

  He laughed again, and Harriett felt her traitorous cheeks warm. Why on earth was she reacting to that sound? She certainly did not wish to. It ought to grate on her nerves as the lieutenant did.

  “I suppose I could say Heaven as well, since I come from Cornwall,” he answered.

  Having never been so far south, Harriett was curious. “Is it heavenly there?” she asked. With the exception of London and Yorkshire and wherever the road had carried her in between, she hadn’t been much of anywhere. Perhaps if she didn’t despise riding in a carriage for hours on end she’d be more inclined to travel.

  “It is,” he answered, sounding wistful. “Beautifully white, sandy beaches, rugged green hills, and the most breathtaking turquoise waters. I take it you are not from Cornwall.”

  “No.” Though Harriett suddenly wished to go there very much.

  “Devon, perhaps?”

  She shook her head, noticing that the Biddings were no longer in sight. Apparently they’d allowed their dog to set the pace and had forgotten about their guests. Harriett hoped they would realize their lapse sooner than later and pause to wait.