A Madness in Spring (8 page)

She knew what her uncle was to tell Adam… but what was Adam going to tell her uncle? He wouldn’t mention what happened between them, would he?

No. Of course not.

Still, better to know than not.

Thirty seconds later she was crouched on the steps, hidden from view by the curve of the main staircase. And straining to hear the conversation taking place in the front parlor.

“…hardly seen you,” she heard her uncle say.

“Yes,” Adam replied, after a cough. “I’m a horrid neighbor for not calling before now.”

“And you’re about to head back north, too!” Sir Henry replied. “I shall have to make Lord Sturridge invite us over for supper some time before you go.”

“The door is always open to you,” Adam replied. “No invitation necessary. And… and Miss Leonard too.”

“Something my Bel takes full advantage of,” her uncle said on a laugh. “Not that I blame her – it can get dull around here with just me for stodgy company.”

“I’m absolutely certain that’s not true,” Adam replied, good-naturedly. “But speaking of Belinda – er, Miss Leonard…”

“Yes, she’s sorry to miss you, but she’s had to run off for some kind of committee meeting. You know how she is about that sort of thing.”

“…I see.”

“She’s certain the town will fall apart without her. And this house, and me. And it’s likely true. Although…”

Belinda’s blood froze in her chest. ‘Although’ what?

“Yes, Sir Henry?” Adam asked for her.

“Well, I don’t want to speak out of turn, but I know you and my Bel have had your differences in the past, but I was so hoping you would have outgrown them by now.”

“I’m not sure I understand,” he replied. Belinda was not sure either, but she would be gratified to know. So gratified in fact, she shifted forward in her seat, and the stairs let out the longest, loudest creak in her memory.

She paused, as still as a deer in the woods. Listened, and prayed that two very specific people did not hear.

Her heart was pounding so fast she could barely hear her uncle when he started speaking again.

“You two have always brought out the worst in each other, but continuing to do so at your ages is silly, and judging by my niece’s reaction this morning, she knows it,” her uncle said. “Truth be told, I think she’s terribly embarrassed by whatever she did that has brought you here, and feels rightfully ashamed.”

All that frozen blood in her body suddenly dropped to the floor. She felt dizzy. She raised her hand to her head, and realized it was shaking.

“Ah,” she heard Adam say, his voice for once without that joking nature that usually irritated her. Without it, he sounded raw. And tired. “Actually, I have no quarrel with your niece. At least, not today. I… I simply wished to thank her. She sent me some materials about sheep herding a while ago, and I found them exceptionally useful. I read them cover to cover.”

“I’m certain she’ll be gratified to hear it,” her uncle said, his voice filled with a sad sort of pride. “I’ll be certain to tell her –”

“Pray, don’t trouble yourself, Sir Henry. It’s… it’s something I should tell her myself. I have no doubt I’ll see Miss Leonard at Sturridge Manor or in Hemshawe in the coming days.”

As her uncle tried to entice Adam to stay and talk about his estate and his sheep, and Adam firmly but politely declined, Belinda snuck back up the stairs on her tiptoes, careful to avoid the creaks. She had no need to hear anymore.

Yes, she and Adam had been fighting far too long. It was silly, and she was mortified her uncle felt the need to apologize to Adam for her behavior.

But she couldn’t think about that.

Nor could she think about how Adam had sounded – so eager at first and then so sad. Nor what he’d said – did he really read her sheep herding pamphlets? No, she could only focus her mind on one single thing.

Adam thought he would be able to run into her in the coming days, before he left for his estate. To – one assumed –
talk
.

Not if Belinda could help it.

A
dam would give Belinda this – when she put her mind to something, that something was accomplished. Whether it was helping her friend put a ball together in the space of ten days, or successfully avoiding Adam for the last three.

Adam thought he would be able to corner Belinda at some point, and… well, he wasn’t quite certain what they would do in that corner, but he knew a conversation needed to be had. After his disappointing interview with her uncle, Adam knew Belinda was avoiding him, but he never thought she’d be this good at it in a place as small as Hemshawe. But every time he happened to show up to whatever committee meeting or food-tasting session Francesca told him was on the ladies’ schedule for the day, he discovered that Belinda was not there. She was off contracting with the butcher for the right cuts of meat or had driven into Tunbridge Wells to audition musicians with tubas.

On the third day, he decided to circumvent her scheme. When he oh so casually asked Francesca over breakfast what the day held for her and Belinda, she told him they would be directing the Sturbridge gardeners just what flowers were to be culled and arranged for Georgie’s party, Adam knew without a doubt that Belinda would not be crossing the threshold of Sturbridge Manor.

So, he camped out in the middle of Hemshawe. From the center of town, he was easily able to see the whole of Main Street while enjoying a delightful ham luncheon in the front window of the Joyful Shepherdess, the village pub.

The whole day passed. Everyone was out, as the weather had broken, and spring proved triumphant over the winter. Everyone that is, except for Belinda Leonard. After hours of seeing neither hide nor hair of her, he headed back to Sturridge Manor in defeat, only to be greeted by Georgie and Francesca with the news that he just missed Belinda.

But she could not avoid him here, at the party of her own creation.

The Friar’s House was done up in spring flowers and gauze bunting. The entire town of Hemshawe had turned out for what was supposed to be a small gathering for dinner and dancing. Likely half of Tunbridge Wells, too. And in the center of it all was Belinda Leonard.

She was surrounded by people. Francesca, Miss Gage, Bertram, and Mrs. Clotworthy of course, but there were also Mrs. Frosham and her two sons, a pair of redheaded cousins from Tunbridge Wells who always competed over horses and women, and even a naval officer in his blue coat. Really, far too many men for Adam’s comfort. All standing around Belinda like a wall.

Oh hell. Pinning her down was going to be even harder here than it had been the last three days.

But he had to try.

He elbowed his way through the room, nearly getting smacked by an enthusiastic quadrille dancer, before squeezing past the vicar and putting himself right next to Belinda.

She looked lovely – bright-eyed, flushed with the success of the party. Her golden hair was pinned back with one long curl running over her shoulder, and a midnight blue silk made her skin glow. She was writing something in her dance card with neat little letters. He was so struck by finally being near to her, after days, he forgot what he was going to say for just a moment.

But a moment was all it took for him to hear Belinda say, “thank you, Mr. Frosham, I would be delighted, but it looks like I have given the last of my dances away!”

The younger Mr. Frosham looked pitifully downcast (as did his mother), but Adam was more alarmed. “Your dance card is full?” he blurted out. “Already?”

The wall of people around them turned to look at him. He felt his face flaming, while Belinda went pale.

“My apologies, Mr. Sturridge – Mr. Gage, you have my first two, and the music is beginning. Shall we?”

As Bertram gave her his arm and lead her away, the rest of the circle, sending him looks ranging from amused to concerned, began to dissolve. Leaving Adam on the outside – again.

He spent the next hour watching Belinda, hoping for an opening. But she proved to be as wily as a cat. When she wasn’t dancing, she would travel to the ladies’ retiring room with three other women – a fearful blockade against any man’s intentions. When the dancing was suspended so supper could be served, she was seated at the very opposite end of the table… a fact he shouldn’t be surprised by, as Belinda was the one who made the seating arrangements.

He was beginning to worry that their few minutes in the woods were the only minutes they would ever spend together when, after dinner, he chose a very lucky chair.

“Mr. Sturridge – what are you doing on wallflower row?”

Adam started, turning to find Miss Georgie Gage two seats to his right, Mrs. Clotworthy beside her.

“Wallflower row?” he asked. Aside from himself ,Miss Gage, and her lightly snoring companion, there was no one seated. Everyone else was on the dance floor.

“Yes – Bertram doesn’t want me dancing too much. He’s afraid I’ll exhaust myself. So here I sit. Lonely, but now no longer alone.”

“I would be happy to dance with you,” Adam replied. “And we can tell your brother to go hang.”

Georgie smiled. “Thank you, but no. I enjoy watching people enjoy themselves… Miss Leonard is dancing with my brother again.”

“I know,” he said, his eyes narrowing. “But then again, you knew that I knew that, didn’t you?”

Miss Gage had the grace to blush. “Francesca told me you were upset by our interference.”

“I was.”

“Then I apologize. I thought… well, it doesn’t matter what I thought. But Bertram is always annoyed by my meddling.” An elbow landed squarely in her side. “Oof. And Mrs. Clotworthy, too.”

“I was annoyed. But I am more annoyed by your abandoning of it.”

She turned to him, incredulous. Even Mrs. Clotworthy seemed to wake up.

“If you are intent on meddling –”

“I’m not,” she said.

“She is,” Mrs. Clotworthy answered.

“Then meddle in my favor for once, and help me now.”

She leaned in close, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. “How?”

Adam marched across the room, the crowds parting for him as if diving out of the way of a stampede. He was at Belinda’s side just as the first notes of the waltz began.

Her back was to him, else she might not have let him so close. “Belinda,” he said.

Her shoulders froze. Then, she rolled them back, and turned.

“Mr. Sturridge.” She kept her head high, a tight smile on her features.

“May I have the honor of this dance?” he asked.

“I… I would,” Belinda said politely. “But I’m afraid this dance is promised to –”

She looked in her dance card, and frowned.

“This waltz isn’t in your dance card, Belinda. It was only just added to the programme. It isn’t promised away.” He held out his hand to her.

Held her eyes.

“Dance with me. This time, I won’t take no for an answer.”

They took their places on the floor. No one else seemed to be thrown by the insertion of a random waltz into their carefully planned dancing order, and around them everyone began swirling in time to the music.

So Belinda and Adam had little choice but to do the same.

“I’m not going to bite you,” Adam said. “You can relax.”

“I know that,” she replied, sharply.

“Then perhaps put your hand on my shoulder?”

“Oh.” She brought her hand up and placed it as lightly as possible on the broadcloth of his coat. Then, his right hand came to that warm spot at the base of her spine, and his left took her free hand in his.

And then they were dancing.

Oh, this would be so much easier if she didn’t have to touch him! If she couldn’t feel the heat of him through his coat. If she wasn’t practically vibrating beneath his hands. She was wearing gloves, for goodness sake. It wasn’t as if they were naked.

And that thought caused her stumble ever so slightly.

“Are you all right?” he asked, catching her and righting their steps before anyone could notice.

“I’m fine. Fine.”

“I’m sorry, I thought you would know how to waltz by now.”

“I do!” she replied. “I’ve been dancing all evening.”

“I know you’ve been dancing. And going to the retiring room with thirty other women by your side. And running errands to Tunbridge Wells for three days. All to hide from me.”

“I… I was not hiding,” Belinda replied. “I had a great deal to do for this party –”

“Belinda. You know we must talk.”

“Must we?” she replied. “I don’t think there’s anything to say, really.”

He swung her into a turn, setting her heart racing. When her eyes came up to his, she didn’t see anger, or alarm. She only saw Adam.

Oh, heavens. This was going to be harder than she thought.

“We spoke, Mr. Sturridge.” She said, clearing her throat. “We spoke, and we… we perhaps said things that we’d both been thinking –”

“Not just thinking. Feeling.”

“—but now that those thoughts and emotions have been expressed, it’s over. It’s something that happened, but we need not dwell on it.” She put her chin up, looked down her nose at him. “You can go back to Scotland, and my life will be normal as ever.”

He came to a stop in the middle of the dance floor. Everyone still swirling around them, judiciously stepping out of the way… and trapping Belinda in with Adam.

He didn’t let go of her. He didn’t step back. He just let his hand slide out of hers, and lightly caressed it down the length of her glove, finding her skin just above the elbow.

“No,” he said. “I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

His fingers burned indelible marks into her skin. She couldn’t look away from that hand. But she had to – it was too much. She let her eyes slide to the other dancers, and saw that they we are all spinning, and whispering… and looking at her.

“Adam,” she said, her face burning. “We can’t…
I
can’t…”

His voice was a low rumble in her ear. “Why not?”

“I…” There was no answer to give. She was in the middle of the dance floor in the Friar’s House while the entire town of Hemshawe watched. “I can’t be here anymore.”

She pulled back, and nimbly ducked beneath dancing partners, fleeing the room. And she knew without turning back that Adam was right on her heels.