Charming Miss Atherton

Sixteen

"In my experience, I have found that the happiest moments in my life were events that I had not planned for."-Lady Norbury explaining to her four daughters, Bridget, Jocelyn, Margaret and Violet, the benefit of letting things take their course during the summer of 1810.

The thin wheels of the coupe wobbled over the small pebbles in the dirt road. The driver, insistent on making good time despite the muddy conditions upon the directions of his master, pressed the horses along with a crack of the whip. The roads were abnormally damp and unbearable due to heavy fog plaguing the countryside. It was the kind of fog that felt like rain, heavy with moisture, masking the landscape like a big gray blanket, basking field workers and playful children in the small villages with dewy complexions. The thin glass windows of the coupe were spotted with watermarks, collecting in bunches, then sliding down in long drops to the base of the window frame. As the coupe passed workers on the road pulling primitive farming equipment or those trudging along with dog carts, the passengers within noticed that the locals were donning several layers of clothes as well as coarse wool gloves with fingertips exposed. The driver, suddenly feeling cold himself, held the reins of the horses, clasped his gloved hands together, and blew hot air between them. The driver glanced ahead, feeling the effects of the cold, hoping their next resting place would appear shortly after they overtook the bend in the road. He would give anything for a bowl of hot stew and a glass of warm wine. His face brightened as the coupe approached a wooden post staked by the side of the road, the white paint was flakey from old age and harsh weather, but still legible for the driver was able to make out that the faded white lettering said Reigate, 4.8 kilometers. The driver tapped the window, signaling to his master that they were approaching their next rest stop.

Bridget heard a knock on the door outside the library. Elstree popped his head through the door. "Miss Atherton, excuse the interruption but Miss Smythe has come to pay you a visit. Shall I tell her that you are at home?"

Bridget inwardly groaned. After last night's exhibition, she knew Miss Smythe would come to call. The lady was much too competitive to stand aside and allow Bridget to get the upper hand in her pursuit of Ripley.

Pursuit.

It was funny to think of Ripley in that fashion. It was still baffling that Ripley might be capable of attaching himself to a woman who looked upon him like a trophy. In Bridget's case, nothing could be further from the truth. She adored the man behind all the fine clothes and fancy titles. But it was neither here nor there. Miss Smythe was waiting downstairs and must be dealt with.

With a heavy sigh whilst closing the pages of her novel, Bridget answered, "Kindly show Miss Smythe to the Blue drawing room."

"Very good, miss."

The Blue drawing room was one of Bridget's favorite rooms in Carrington House. The walls were painted a light blue-green, one shade fainter than turquoise, with large white crown molding along the top and bottom of each wall. The sofas were white and silver striped satin, with solid pillows in the same hues to match. Bridget placed herself on the center of three sofas that filled the space in the expansive room. The curtains were already drawn with the sunshine pouring into the room. Bridget stifled a sleepy yawn as she waited for Miss Smythe to join her.

The double doors swung wide open with a loud thump, startling Bridget to a standing position. Miss Smythe stood in the doorway, dressed smartly in a vibrant shade of royal blue that complimented the lavender shade of her eyes and a sizeable amethyst broach to garnish the otherwise simple cut of her dress.

Bridget motioned for her to take the nearest seat on the coach, saying cordially. "Good day Miss Smythe, I have been expecting you."

Miss Smythe gave a startled look of mock surprise. "You have?"