Page 19 of War of the Wedding Wagers
“Not unless you think about it. Eyes that follow? What could that refer to?” he replied.
“A gentleman who admires a lady will follow her with his eyes.” She glanced at Sir Frederick who hoped his smile wasbland in answer to the hope in hers. Goodness, he thought, he must not allow Miss Playford to think for a moment that his eyes followed her.
As for Miss Fairchild, he realized with a start that his eyes followed her quite a lot. Well, he was trying to understand her, when he’d clearly misunderstood her all those years ago.
She seemed so cold and self-contained and yet on several occasions she’d succumbed to the girlish enjoyment of the moment. It was a refreshing reminder of the old days before she’d inexplicably gone cold on him.
Now she said, “But what else follows you with their eyes? Why, a painting, of course! Have you never felt it before? The sense that when you’re in a room with huge paintings on the wall, they are watching you. I thought that when we passed the antechamber that led here. There was a painting of—” She broke off suddenly then added, “Of a woman in white! You remember that, don’t you? Come, follow me! I think I’ve discovered our next clue already.”
They retraced their footsteps and were soon standing before a large portrait of a beautiful young woman with long golden hair falling over one shoulder, large, cornflower blue eyes gazing out from the frame with a wistful expression, her gown of the fashion from one hundred years earlier.
Miss Playford bent forward to read the inscription before gasping. “Why, this is Lady Pernilla! See how beautiful she is?”
There was no disputing this. Sir Frederick thought how much she reminded him of Caroline with her impish smile and her manner: languid but hinting at a spirit ready to be unleashed the moment she no longer had to remain still.
“No wonder she had admirers,” remarked Miss Fairchild.
“A groom was her admirer. Of course she could never have married a groom,” said Sir Frederick.
“No, but I am sorry for her if she lost her heart to him. Perhaps he was the only one who was kind to her. You remember in her letter that she referenced the unwelcome marriage her father was pressing upon her,” said Sir Frederick. “Perhaps she threw herself at the groom in protest. That must surely have been the reason for her to have preferred him to the other gentlemen in the district. She wouldn’t have chosen to be penniless if she could have found someone respectable who was worthy of her heart.”
“Well, I’m not sure I agree with your speculation, Sir Frederick,” said Miss Fairchild who was running her hands behind the back of the painting, withdrawing, with a smile of satisfaction what was clearly their next clue: a folded piece of paper which she began to read:
“Keys of ivory
Strings of gold
Lift the lid to find what’s next
A clue to guide your future steps.”
“Well, that’s easy,” declared Miss Playford. “The next clue is in the fortepiano, of course. I was playing it when I first got here. A very pretty instrument though quite old and not as fine as the one I play on at home. That is, when my Aunt Pike allows me to play it,” she added.
“I’m sure we would love to hear you play something when we find the next clue,” said Miss Fairchild, glancing at Sir Frederick with a smile.
“And what about you, Miss Fairchild? Do you play?” asked Sir Frederick, suddenly curious. “You seem learned in a great many areas. I’m sure you can play a pretty tune to amuse us.”
“I’m not sure I wish to attempt to amuse anyone, Sir Frederick, and certainly not with my dubious musical abilities,”Miss Fairchild replied with a sudden return to her previous cool demeanor. He wondered what he’d said to vex her but then Miss Playford was clapping her hands and leading the way out of the dimly lit antechamber saying, “I think we should hurry if we want to be the ones to win this great treasure. We must get there first!”
But as he found himself shoulder to shoulder with Miss Fairchild as they followed the other fair child through the corridor, positively skipping in her excitement, Miss Fairchild relaxed sufficiently to say, “There is something charming about extreme youthfulness. I’d pegged Miss Playford as far less ebullient.” With a frown, she added, “Though, come to think of it, that was only when she was in company with her aunt.”
“She’s charming,” Sir Frederick agreed. “A charming child,” he added, thinking how much more appealing was Miss Fairchild’s intelligence.
Chapter Twelve
Amelia kept MissPlayford in sight while she followed at a more demure pace. The castle’s tapestries, paintings, coats of armor, heraldry, and other treasures were a source of great interest and she found that Sir Frederick had much to say on the artifacts and works of art they passed.
“You are so cultured, Sir Frederick,” Miss Playford marveled. “What astonishing sights you have seen. Oh, I wish I could go on a Grand Tour like you have.”
Amelia said nothing but raised an eyebrow as she let Miss Playford prattle on. She knew Sir Frederick had misbehaved. Thomas had recounted many tales of his indiscretions. Her upright betrothed had even blushed when he’d touched on the fact that women were involved.
No wonder Sir Frederick couldn’t meet Amelia’s focused look as Miss Playford expounded on his extraordinary knowledge.
And nor could she help observing, “For most young men, the Grand Tour is a euphemism for behaving with the reckless abandon they could not get away with on home soil. I am sure you must be quite an aberration, Sir Frederick.”
It was a timely reminder not to get too comfortable with the gentleman for while her Thomas had gone to fight for King and country, Sir Frederick had been wining, dining, and womanizing.
And now he seemed no longer ashamed. “Ah, Miss Fairchild, how hard must I work to gain your high regard?” he asked, obviously with an attempt at humor for he could not be serious.
