Before the Season Ends (11 page)

“Goodness!” Lavinia started. “I promised Mama that I would help look after Susan! How could I forget?” The young women had decided to continue their exploration of the grounds rather than allow their afternoon to be ruined. They were far from the hedgerows, but still nowhere near the other guests.

“Then let us go to her,” Ariana said.

“Oh, not you, Ariana. I’ll only be a minute! I’m enjoying this walk today, I feel as though I’ve been shut up with Mama in the house for an age! I will get Susan and we will catch up with you.”

Ariana, too, was enjoying the pretty grounds of Aspindon and the familiar feeling of being in the country rather than the city. But she looked around uncertainly. “Perhaps it’s best if I go with you.”

“But what if the incorrigible Mr. Mornay sees us and speaks to your
aunt, or my mama? I think it is safer for just me to go—he may have an eye out for the two of us. While I’m gone, look about—perhaps over there,” she pointed toward a green field backed by a grove of trees, “and find us a pleasant spot to sit and study the house. We can try and commit it to memory, and see who can draw the best likeness afterward, when we are home.”

“Very well, “Ariana said. “But do tell Mrs. Bentley of my whereabouts.”

Lavinia nodded, already backing away. “I will. I won’t be long! Wait for me!”

“All right!”

Ariana walked along at a leisurely pace, taking in as much of the landscape as she could. In one direction, after a gentle slope upwards, she could see the sparkling surface of a pond. In another direction, the little grove of trees, getting larger. Behind her, the house, elegant and stately. She went steadily toward the grove only to find, when she got right up to it, that it was not actually a grove at all. There was one single monstrous tree, with many trunks branching out from one main low foundation, like the arms of an idol from India she had once seen in a book. She stood and stared at it, wishing she had her drawing book and pencils with her. What a fascinating study it would be, and a great addition to her modest collection of drawings.

But soon she had to change her mind; the innumerable branches criss-crossed at so many points that only an artist more skilled than she could properly get it on paper. Looking up at the branches, Ariana was suddenly swept by a desire to sit among them. Why, there was a little spot perfect for sitting, and from which she could easily survey the scene around her. She could see if Lavinia—or anyone else—approached. And it would afford her a luxurious view of the house and grounds. Why not?

She studied the spot from a few angles: could it be reached? She decided it could. She peeled off her gloves and felt the trunk. Rough, but not so much that a lady could not climb it. She tucked her gloves inside her reticule, removed her spencer, and placed her things upon
a stone behind the tree. After a look around to be certain no one was about, she lifted her gown, carefully raised one leg, and began to climb.

It was too bad her aunt had not allowed her to wear a pair of half-boots, but at least the kid slippers gave some traction whereas if she had worn her usual silk pair, she might not have attained her object at all (tree-climbing could be quite slippery). Nevertheless, it seemed like only seconds before she was sitting, quite happily, on a wide branch that was every bit as cozy as she had suspected it would be.

Wasn’t this nice! Wearing a smile, she viewed the house and grounds, enjoying her secluded perch. Because of the many overhanging branches there was little likelihood that she could be seen where she sat, and a sigh of contentment escaped her. She put her head back, leisurely viewing the scene above and saw that at least three more wide branches spread out horizontally like hers. They looked equally superb for sitting.

Feeling like a child, Ariana stifled an involuntary giggle and climbed up to the next branch, which was lovely. In another minute she had to try the next; and finally, feeling she may as well go as high as was safely possible, she got up on the highest branch, which took a bit more effort. She had to stand and pull herself up, hoping as she did that brushing against the bark would not damage her gown. Perched atop the branch, peering out through the branches, Ariana had to congratulate herself. This was so far superior to the morning at home and the ride with her aunt in the coach, that it was well worth the effort. The sky was clear and clean, with nary a cloud. The house stood, dignified and solitary, in the middle of a large expanse of grass surrounded by hedgerows and evergreens, bushes and a terraced garden. Other than a slight chill in the air, she was enormously comfortable. There was no sign yet of Lavinia, but Ariana could wait.

She studied the house and tried to imagine what lay beyond its large, shining windows. What would it feel like to live in such a place? So many rooms! A vast property. It was more than she could imagine. And to think the owner was not even a happy person. Mr. Mornay
was truly as unpleasant as her aunt had said, and it just proved that no amount of earthly possessions could make one happy.

It was with thoughts such as these that the minutes passed by. She kept a keen eye out for Miss Herley but the young woman never returned. After more time passed and still she did not appear, Ariana became alarmed. Had something happened? Was Mrs. Bentley fretting over her absence? Perhaps she had been gone overlong. Just as she decided to begin her descent, a group of loud guests came into view. She looked down at the ground. If she started now, could she make it without being seen?

The procession of elegantly clad ladies and gentlemen, ostrich and peacock feathers bobbing in the air, made its way jocularly across the grounds, in her direction. She drew off her bonnet, not wanting her own modest feather to be seen. She placed the hat gingerly in a nearby crevice, pulled her legs and dress up, and huddled, suddenly anxious, on her perch. She could hear the titters and snatches of conversation as they came wafting toward her. What had seemed so nice a circumstance only moments before had become a precarious one. If she was found in the tree, she would certainly be a laughingstock. And this, before having a chance to make a good impression on anyone! Her season would no doubt be ruined, and her aunt’s also. How could she have made a mess of things so quickly?

The approaching crowd began to scatter apart. Were they playing a game? Some appeared to be searching for something. Voices were materializing on the breeze louder than before.

“Miss Forsythe! Miss Forsythe!” Ariana froze in alarm.

They were searching for her.

“M
iss Forsythe!”

Ariana stiffened with fear. The whole party was searching for her! Had she been gone so long? But why else look for her? Her first thought was to scurry down, but it was too likely that someone might spot her. The humiliation would be unendurable. Her only choice was simply to huddle lower and try to remain unseen. To come forward now, to risk being spotted climbing down a tree, was too horrible a thought for words.

“Please, Miss Forsythe,” she heard. “Let us rescue you! Let us be heroes!” Laughter.

Even if I am not discovered,
she thought bitterly,
my name alone shall be sufficient to provoke derision.
The guests by now were making their way across the property in all directions, and Ariana watched helplessly. She held her breath whenever anyone approached the tree, but apparently it did not occur to them to actually search within it. No one had any reason to suppose she was hiding; they assumed if they only got within range of her, she would of course come forward. Only Ariana
was
hiding, and praying desperately that no one would find her.

After what felt like hours, though it must only have been minutes, the party began heading en masse toward the hedgerows. From where Ariana sat she could now see that behind the hedges were more of them: it was a maze. They were thinking she had become lost in it—what a relief! She waited for the last few stragglers to leave her area, but
it was with increasing impatience. She was now longing to get down. There was still a party of four making its way leisurely across the lawn in her direction. How vexing! If it were not for them, she knew she could slip down easily and be none the worse for the incident.

As they got yet nearer, Ariana could hear the loud conversation that characterized people’s voices when they were enjoying themselves socially.

“I say,” a gentleman proclaimed, “Why do we not truly find this missing creature? Perhaps she is a ravishing beauty, and would reward her rescuer with a kiss!” There was the overcharged gasp of a female pretending to be offended.

“Upon my word, Hartley, but it would be the only way you could procure a kiss!”

Ariana recognized that voice—and the enormous bonnet. Lady Covington! Ariana’s humiliation would be ten times worse if the countess discovered her. Mr. Hartley feigned offense. In an over-dry tone he objected, “I was speaking, my lady, to Mornay.”

Mornay?
Oh, goodness, not him again! But she stretched her neck to get a glimpse.

“I say this was planned!” spat out the Countess. “Mrs. Bentley has a great desire to put forth her niece, and she is nothing but a pretty child, I tell you. A mere child! I saw her earlier.”

“Planned? I daresay, not; Mrs. Bentley seemed wild with worry.” Mr. Hartley looked plaintively at the countess. But the second lady laughed.

“Worry? Mrs. Bentley most decidedly wanted her niece back, yes, but to say she was worried is going a good distance from the truth.” After a meaningful pause, she added, “She was merely indignant that her niece, who is her key to invitations this year, was not forming acquaintances. In my opinion,” she added importantly, “the young lady saw an opportunity to escape her aunt’s expectations, and took it.”

“My point exactly,” stated Mr. Hartley. “It wasn’t
planned.
” The foursome were still approaching and now stopped a mere ten yards from Ariana’s tree. The man named Hartley drew near Mr. Mornay.

“What do you say, Mornay? Is the wandering Miss Forsythe in dire need of help, or has she taken a flight of fancy and wished us all to the devil?” There was silence while the others awaited his response. It was just then that the hot-tempered man chanced to glance in Ariana’s direction. The girl’s heart beat so painfully and so loudly she thought it must surely give her away. And then it didn’t matter. For Mr. Mornay, after looking at the others with an unreadable expression, glanced back toward the trees, and then right up to where she was perched, scrunched and uncomfortable, trying to make herself as small as possible.

Ariana felt roundly humiliated. Here was his moment for revenge. First, she had stared at him rudely. She hadn’t meant to be rude, but she was sure it seemed so to him. Then, worse, she had trespassed on his property and collided into him at top speed. A dreadful shiver ran down her spine and drops of ungenteel sweat began to pop out on her forehead, despite a mild breeze.

Meanwhile, Mr. Mornay was squinting up at her. The others, though close behind him, were speaking among themselves and failed to notice the direction of his gaze. With a drooping heart, Ariana waited for his inevitable announcement. So much for thinking of herself as the
elegant newcomer.
Now she would be known as the absurd one! But the announcement did not come. Thinking it would, she had unknowingly raised her chin—she would face the worst with her head high.

Mr. Mornay turned suddenly to Hartley. “I doubt there is any need for…ahem…a hero.” At this, the ladies laughed. “And if Miss—Forsythe, did you say?—has had the sense to leave the party, I can but congratulate her.”

“Mornay, you beast!” chided Lady Covington, from within the reaches of her enormous, plumed bonnet. The gentleman was unmoved by the reproach and made no answer except his usual haughty expression. Mr. Hartley was smiling.

“In that case, let us escort these ladies back to the tables. I am in dire need of being rescued, myself. A touch of claret should do the
trick!” They turned to go, smiling. Mr. Hartley politely held out his arm to the second lady, but to Ariana’s amusement, Mr. Mornay did not offer his arm to Lady Covington. Her reaction was to pout and hurry to him, taking his arm brassily. He looked annoyed.

“Breathe easy, Mornay!” Her tone was loud and irked. “I have no delusions regarding your affections!” With that, they walked off.

Mr. Mornay had seen her, Ariana was certain. Why had he not revealed her? That was probably something she would never know. As they left, no one looked back at the tree, and she felt an enormous relief. Even while they were still in view, she could wait no longer and moved to edge herself down, and then, to her horror, discovered her gown was stuck!

She forced herself to relax, and then tried again. The resistance at the back of the gown persisted. Ariana reached as far as she could behind her, realized it was a ribbon from the back of her dress that was caught on the branch, but could not free the snagged piece. She took a deep breath and tried again, and was again without success. She felt tears coming to the surface of her eyes, but forced them away. It was all so provoking! When would this day end!