an injury? We would have sent a basket! The good doctor does not yet realize,” she said to Lady Jane, “that we take care of our own here.”
Dr. Berridge smiled politely. “It is not my place to tell of people’s infirmities. Lady Jane, you’re looking splendid,” he changed the subject neatly. “Rosy cheeked—you must have walked the length of the whole village.”
“Twice, I think,” Jane replied, as she was handed a cup of tea. Not quite the exotic blend she had come to enjoy over the past few days, but it would do. “I had a great deal of shopping to do and hospitality to return. And it’s so warm out. Quite invigorating.”
“Yes, it is unusually sunny,” Mrs. Morgan murmured into her tea.
“Shopping!” Victoria piped up. “What did you purchase? There is a length of cambric in Mrs. Hill’s shop that would look divine with your hair.”
“If it’s the lavender, then I believe I bought it.” Jane smiled. “You have quite the eye, Miss Victoria.”
Victoria blushed prettily at the compliment, and, Jane observed, Dr. Berridge smiled very proudly toward Victoria, too.
Interesting, Jane thought to herself.
Lady Wilton and Mrs. Morgan expounded at length on the fluctuating cost of fabrics in the village, and how Sir Wilton blamed the whole thing on the end of the war and a sudden influx of foreign goods from the Continent and the Americas. “Suddenly, everything that was expensive is cheap, and vice versa—or so says my Sir Wilton,” Lady Wilton expostulated, to the murmured agreement of all the other ladies present. “You watch, he claims, we’ll be invaded by more and more people, and suddenly our little lake will be overrun with pleasure boaters!” she cried, as if pleasure boaters brought with them the four horses of the apocalypse. Oddly, at that moment, Lady Jane caught the gaze of Victoria—who rolled her eyes and gave a small smile. Which prompted a similar smile from Jane.
Maybe Victoria Wilton wasn’t so annoying after all.
“So, Lady Jane!” Lady Wilton addressed her most honored guest. “Who did you see in town?”
And so Jane found herself narrating her morning adventures through the shops and streets of Reston.
“I would not be surprised if I met with everyone in the county today,” Jane finished, helping herself to a mouthful of tea.
“Everyone except for that awful Mr. Worth,” Mrs. Morgan replied.
Jane nearly spat out her tea.
“Awful?” Jane asked, after she managed to swallow. “What makes you say that?”
This simple question set off such a flurry of flushed faces and fast words that Jane could not discern what was being said for several seconds.
“Atrocious man!”
“Barreled me down in the street once, last winter, do you remember?”
“Repugnant—never even came to one of the assemblies!”
“Excuse me—” Jane interrupted. “But are we speaking about the same Mr. Worth? Mr. Byrne Worth? Widow Lowe’s nephew?”
All eyes rounded to Jane. “Do you mean,” Lady Wilton said incredulously, “that you’ve been introduced?”
“Of course,” Jane replied, her astonishment apparent. “And not only here, but we met in London.” Where Mr. Worth performed heroic acts to protect Crown and Country, she thought, but kept that part to herself. “His brother married a friend of mine just a few weeks past.”
“Are you saying that Mr. Worth was recently in London?” Victoria asked, when all the other ladies lost their voices.
“Yes. Just this summer, in fact.”
“But it’s impossible!” Mrs. Morgan sputtered, near to tears. “He couldn’t have been to Town!”
“For heaven’s sake, why?”
“Because,” Lady Wilton replied, nearly apoplectic, “he’s the highwayman, of course!”
Nine
“YOU’LL have to excuse my mother,” Victoria said as she gathered hats and shawls for guests as they took their leave.
“Victoria, what on earth did she mean—Mr. Worth is the highwayman. What utter nonsense,” Jane replied as
Dr. Berridge smiled politely. “It is not my place to tell of people’s infirmities. Lady Jane, you’re looking splendid,” he changed the subject neatly. “Rosy cheeked—you must have walked the length of the whole village.”
“Twice, I think,” Jane replied, as she was handed a cup of tea. Not quite the exotic blend she had come to enjoy over the past few days, but it would do. “I had a great deal of shopping to do and hospitality to return. And it’s so warm out. Quite invigorating.”
“Yes, it is unusually sunny,” Mrs. Morgan murmured into her tea.
“Shopping!” Victoria piped up. “What did you purchase? There is a length of cambric in Mrs. Hill’s shop that would look divine with your hair.”
“If it’s the lavender, then I believe I bought it.” Jane smiled. “You have quite the eye, Miss Victoria.”
Victoria blushed prettily at the compliment, and, Jane observed, Dr. Berridge smiled very proudly toward Victoria, too.
Interesting, Jane thought to herself.
Lady Wilton and Mrs. Morgan expounded at length on the fluctuating cost of fabrics in the village, and how Sir Wilton blamed the whole thing on the end of the war and a sudden influx of foreign goods from the Continent and the Americas. “Suddenly, everything that was expensive is cheap, and vice versa—or so says my Sir Wilton,” Lady Wilton expostulated, to the murmured agreement of all the other ladies present. “You watch, he claims, we’ll be invaded by more and more people, and suddenly our little lake will be overrun with pleasure boaters!” she cried, as if pleasure boaters brought with them the four horses of the apocalypse. Oddly, at that moment, Lady Jane caught the gaze of Victoria—who rolled her eyes and gave a small smile. Which prompted a similar smile from Jane.
Maybe Victoria Wilton wasn’t so annoying after all.
“So, Lady Jane!” Lady Wilton addressed her most honored guest. “Who did you see in town?”
And so Jane found herself narrating her morning adventures through the shops and streets of Reston.
“I would not be surprised if I met with everyone in the county today,” Jane finished, helping herself to a mouthful of tea.
“Everyone except for that awful Mr. Worth,” Mrs. Morgan replied.
Jane nearly spat out her tea.
“Awful?” Jane asked, after she managed to swallow. “What makes you say that?”
This simple question set off such a flurry of flushed faces and fast words that Jane could not discern what was being said for several seconds.
“Atrocious man!”
“Barreled me down in the street once, last winter, do you remember?”
“Repugnant—never even came to one of the assemblies!”
“Excuse me—” Jane interrupted. “But are we speaking about the same Mr. Worth? Mr. Byrne Worth? Widow Lowe’s nephew?”
All eyes rounded to Jane. “Do you mean,” Lady Wilton said incredulously, “that you’ve been introduced?”
“Of course,” Jane replied, her astonishment apparent. “And not only here, but we met in London.” Where Mr. Worth performed heroic acts to protect Crown and Country, she thought, but kept that part to herself. “His brother married a friend of mine just a few weeks past.”
“Are you saying that Mr. Worth was recently in London?” Victoria asked, when all the other ladies lost their voices.
“Yes. Just this summer, in fact.”
“But it’s impossible!” Mrs. Morgan sputtered, near to tears. “He couldn’t have been to Town!”
“For heaven’s sake, why?”
“Because,” Lady Wilton replied, nearly apoplectic, “he’s the highwayman, of course!”
Nine
“YOU’LL have to excuse my mother,” Victoria said as she gathered hats and shawls for guests as they took their leave.
“Victoria, what on earth did she mean—Mr. Worth is the highwayman. What utter nonsense,” Jane replied as
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