A Madness in Spring (4 page)

“Nothing would please me more, Miss Gage.”

I
t was over the course of the next few days that Adam decided that Miss Georgette Gage was completely mad.

Oh, not really. In most things, she showed strong common sense and good humor – for instance, when she was dealing with her brother’s fears about her health. (As someone who had an older brother himself, he admired her restraint.) And she was generally a very happy, vivacious new member of their circle.

So it was just too bad that she had somehow abandoned all sense and thought that her brother Bertram was interested in Belinda Leonard.

This wasn’t a conclusion he came to lightly. No, he had spent the past few days observing the two of them very closely. And he’d had ample opportunity to do so – he made sure of it.

Luckily for Adam he did not have to go far for observation. Not only did Francesca and Belinda have the Hemshawe Fair
and
a Harvest Festival to plan, but now they had a party to help Miss Gage put together. Thus the three of them had become completely inseparable. As Belinda walked there daily for some reason (Sturridge Manor and Croftburr were not adjoining – one had to walk a bit of the main road of Hemshawe, but they were within a few easy miles of each other) and Francesca insisted on having her housekeeper help with the party’s organizational efforts, naturally everyone ended up at Sturridge Manor.

Mrs. Clotworthy had taken a spring chill, so Bertram Gage found it necessary to escort his sister on her daily outings (really, didn’t the man have better things to do?). As such, Bertram Gage and Belinda Leonard were often in the same room together.

And to Adam’s eye, they showed absolutely no partiality for each other.

Because when Bertram crossed the room to bend over Belinda’s hand, that was common courtesy, wasn’t it? He bent over Francesca’s as well… although, as it was Francesca’s house, shouldn’t he bend over hers first?

And when Miss Gage complained she was too warm and unwrapped the shawl Belinda had leant her, she gave it to Bertram to give back to Belinda. The fact that he had laid it across her shoulders was nothing more than good manners.

Perhaps Belinda smiled at Bertram when he did so, but then she went on talking about the decorations or some such thing for Miss Gage’s party like nothing had happened.

But that she had smiled at all…

However, Adam had to admit, contrary to previous opinion, Belinda
did
smile regularly. Just not at him, hence he wasn’t used to seeing it. She smiled at Francesca, at Miss Gage, at John, and at the maid who brought in their tea.

She smiled at Bertram.

But never at Adam.

So it was with some surprise that he realized that not only did Belinda smile, but that she had a rather nice smile. Not just that she had straight teeth and the requisite number of them, but the whole act did something interesting to her face. What he had always assumed was the harsh stare of her judgment transformed into the light of someone who had a joke inside their head, constantly amusing them.

But not only did Belinda smile, she
laughed
when listening to Bertram tell a story of how he once lost his horse in his own mews.

“When I turn around, there he was, following me at three paces the entire length of the mews.”

It was not the bitter cackle he’d expected. Instead, it was a light, happy sound that filled up the room, and prompted others to join in.

All except Adam, that is. How come she never laughed like that when he told a joke? He was, in his own estimation, quite funny. And Bertram losing his horse in the narrow alley behind his house showed him to be an idiot. That was worthy of scorn, not lovely, lyrical laughter!

Ah, that must be it. She must be simply humoring him. Being polite to their new neighbor in the face of his obvious stupidity.

So, when they walked out the next day through Hemshawe to look in shop windows, and Belinda ended up on Bertram’s arm, he knew she took it only out of a desire to not embarrass either Miss Gage as the man’s sister or Francesca as his host.

Yes. That was the only reason.

Thus, Adam was content that there was no feasible way Bertram Gage was interested in Belinda. Or, if he was, certainly Belinda was not at all interested in
him
. In fact, she likely found his attentions odious. Hence the over-bright smile and the cheerful laughter. She probably hated to be in his presence at all. Absolutely dreaded being left alone with him. Not that there was any danger of their being left alone together… or was there? If Miss Gage was cunning – and she certainly seemed to be – then she might engineer a way for the two of them to be separated from the group. And Francesca – wanting nothing but happiness for her friend – would go along with it.

It was with that in mind that he decided it would be best – yes, it would be – to protect Belinda from such a fate.

As much as he might loathe Belinda Leonard, it was, without a doubt, the gentlemanly thing to do.

“Where are you going?” he called out from the great curving staircase in the main entrance hall. He’d used to slide down these banisters as a child (and all right, as a young man – and a not so young man) but at that moment he simply bounded down them two at a time.

“To call on Miss Gage,” a surprised Francesca had replied, as she pulled on a pair of gloves and her cloak – it was still too cool to go without it.

“They’re… they’re not coming here today?” he asked. Damn, he’d had it all worked out. He’d get John to leave off his desk and papers for once and get Bertram to help him do… something, and Belinda would be free to go about ordering everyone around and making very long lists without Bertram over her shoulder.

“We decided yesterday that there was no use in planning a party at the Friar’s House if we weren’t at the Friar’s House.” She looked at him skeptically. “For heaven’s sake Adam, you were there when we discussed this yesterday.”

“I was?” Yesterday was a bit of a blur of silly party details and watching Bertram Gage drool over Belinda’s hand. “I was, I suppose. And yes, that would make sense.” Adam nodded quickly. “Actually, I might be able to be of some help. I’ll come along, shall I?”

“How,” Francesca asked, bewildered, “could you be of any help?”

“I can… go up on ladders and hang things, or move heavy furniture. That sort of thing.”

“There are footmen for ‘that sort of thing,’ and besides, we are only discussing and making lists today. Wouldn’t you be happier –”

“Too late, my coat’s on,” he said, flipping his coat over his shoulders and onto his back. “Besides, I’ve always wanted to see inside the Friar’s House… shall we?”

So it was that Adam ended up in the parlor of the Friar’s House, listening to the endless discussion over which butcher in town would be able to provide the best spring lamb, and what flowers would be available from Sturridge Manor’s gardens.

And Bertram Gage was nowhere in sight.

“My brother?” Miss Gage said, when he entered. “He’s gone over to speak with our landlord today. Wanted to make sure they are informed of the party, no doubt, and the he thinks my rooms are too chilly.”

“Yes, it’s so unfortunate,” Belinda said.

“It is?” Miss Gage replied with a light in her eyes as she glanced to Adam.

“It is?” Adam said, his brow coming down.

“Yes – he would be able to tell us what capacity the stables have, for when the guests arrive.”

And so he was stuck. And halfway to banging his head against a wall.

To be honest, at least they were very interesting walls. The Friar’s House was an old monastery, built in the thirteenth century, but it was taken over when Henry VIII decided Catholicism wasn’t at all the thing. It was half torn down by the time someone decided to build anew atop its rubble. The result was half crumbled stone, half manor house, with a turret in one corner and Grecian columns lining another side.

Everyone in the neighborhood knew the rumors of secret passages the monks had created to escape persecution as long as they could, and of the monk who still walked the halls of the old section.

“And if this fete is meant to have dancing, we simply must book the musicians now – Tunbridge Wells has a few good quartets, but they are in high demand,” Belinda was saying, going down a checklist in her notebook. “I would recommend the Gregsons, they have a tuba, but the Dilby string quartet would do in a pinch –”

Really, was this all women talked about? Details?

“Who cares?” he said all of a sudden.

All three heads of ladies turned his way. His skin burned hot.

“I mean, certainly, that I have no ear for music, so I… I would not take much notice if there was a tuba there, or not,” he mumbled. “Perhaps I’m not suited to… help with musical choices.”

“Perhaps?” This sardonic note from Belinda, who didn’t even look up from her notebook.

“I know!” Miss Gage cried. “Cook is preparing several different treats for us to try for the party. You should try them for us first, refine the selection to your six or seven favorites.”

“Refine the selection… test them for poison,” Belinda said casually.

“Excellent suggestion,” Francesca said, ignoring Belinda. “We will call you if we need you.”

“We shan’t need you,” Belinda said.

“I’ll direct you to the kitchens, Mr. Sturridge,” Miss Gage said, jumping to her feet.

She walked a little ways down the hall with him, until they came to an intersection.

“It’s down this way, through that door at the end of the hall, then down the stairs. Tell Cook I said to start you with the cream puffs. They are Bertram’s favorite.”

“Bertram,” Adam scoffed. “Yes, I imagine he does love a good cream puff.”

“What was that?” Miss Gage asked.

“Nothing,” Adam replied automatically. Then, he hesitated. “You mentioned the other day that you think your brother would be a good match for Miss Leonard. I simply cannot see it. In fact I have seen nothing out of the ordinary.”

Miss Gage cocked her head to one side. “My brother is reserved. But I do know that he plans to ask her for the first two dances at the party.”

Adam was flummoxed. “Yes, but… that doesn’t mean Belinda likes him at all.”

Miss Gage watched him closely. “My brother is an eligible man. And I may be biased, but one I think very amiable. Would you deny Miss Leonard the chance to have her affection grow?”

“No, but…” But what? But he wouldn’t wish Miss Leonard on anyone? No, that wasn’t it – that sentiment was rote; hollow.

“It seems very unfair of you, you know,” Miss Gage was saying, her lips forming a perfect pout. “Miss Leonard will never have the man she wants, so why should she not find some happiness with a man who might want her?”

His head snapped up. “What do you mean?”

Miss Gage looked askance, as if she had been caught with a secret she shouldn’t have told. “Nothing important,” she said hastily. “Now, down the hall, through the door, and then down the stairs. Don’t forget!”

She gave the world’s briefest curtsey, and trotted back to the parlor where Francesca and Belinda awaited her with no doubt endless questions about her preference in musical instruments. Which left Adam stunned in the middle of the hallway.

What had Miss Gage meant when she said Belinda couldn’t have the man she wanted? There was someone Belinda wanted? Someone she couldn’t have?

The idea of Belinda wanting anyone was mind-boggling. He’d known her since she was nine and had never seen the blush of love on her cheek. He’d never seen her flirt or simper. She was far too happy organizing life for herself and her uncle, and being a complete annoyance.

He wandered down the hall, lost in thought as he went through the door Miss Gage had indicated. Or at least he thought it was that one, he wasn’t really paying attention.

The idea that Belinda wanted someone was strange enough, but the idea that there was someone she
couldn
’t
have… that was somehow even more disturbing.

Because if one were to take a step back and observe from a far, there should really be no one that Belinda Leonard couldn’t have if she wished it. She was the niece of Sir Henry Leonard of Croftburr. She was an heiress in her own right, and (he grudgingly admitted) well respected in Hemshawe and Tunbridge Wells. And she was – when she wasn’t scowling – notably pretty. If you liked the dark-eyed, golden-haired, high-cheekboned type. By all accounts, if she smiled once in a while, there shouldn’t be anyone she couldn’t have.

Unless…

He turned another corner – wait, was he supposed to turn a corner? It didn’t matter. What mattered was the path his thoughts were taking.

A rather surprising path.

Because there really
shouldn
’t
be anyone Belinda couldn’t have… unless she couldn’t admit aloud that she fancied the person, for some reason.

If her feelings were unknown or unrequited.

If she was in love with a person she couldn’t approach. Because it was someone she always professed to hate.

A person like… Adam.

A strange sensation coursed through his body. It was like all of the blood in his veins stopped moving, then reversed course. A subtle shift in the world changing his life irrevocably.

If Belinda Leonard had feelings for him
… feelings other than pure loathing, that is
…

He pulled up short. And realized, that while his thoughts were taking him on a curious journey, his feet were taking him on an equally strange one, and he faced a dead end.

He turned around, and saw three different hallways shooting off of the one he was in – and for the life of him, he could not remember which one he’d come from.

Damn it to hell. Not only had Belinda Leonard bewitched his brain, somehow she had got him totally and completely lost.

“W
here on earth is Adam?”

Belinda looked up from the pastry tray. She had been about to try one of the most marvelous looking cream puffs, when the mention of Adam Sturridge left a sour taste in her mouth. Too bad, as Georgie’s cook – who she’d brought down with them from London – had produced the most delicious looking array of treats Belinda had ever laid eyes on.