Philip felt Christopher's eyes on him but his brother didn't utter a word until the door was closed and the footsteps of Miss Kendall had receded. "Have you cast some sort of magic spell without me knowing to incur the wrath of our hostess' daughter even before we set foot into the house?"
He shrugged, "I know not what you mean." He let his gaze wander around the room that'd been assigned to his brother so he wouldn't have to look at his brother's discerning eyes. "She was perfectly polite."
"Only on the surface." Christopher sat down in the chair by the window. "Underneath, she wanted to throttle you."
Philip knew his brother was right. Her stilted voice and stiff posture had grated on his nerves a little, but he didn't fault her. However, he didn't wish to share the reasons for it. "That is from your perspective. Be that as it may, you can be assured that we will be civil to one another during the time we're here."
"Oh, I don't need any reassurance, dear brother. It'd be more entertaining for me if you weren't." Christopher smirked which Philip returned with a scowl.
"No interferences, brother."
Christopher raised his arms as if to show that he had no tricks up his sleeve. "None whatsoever needed. I bet you that you can accomplish being anything but civil to her on your own accord. After all, that is what siblings do to one another, isn't it? If her mother treats you like her son, then wouldn't that make her almost a sister to you?"
That was precisely the reminder he needed for himself. One didn't lust after one's sister. And that was how he should view her. "Yes, exactly."
Christopher stroked his chin. "The last time I saw her must have been at Father's funeral four years ago. She has grown into quite the stunning young woman, I must say." He looked at Philip. "Don't you agree?"
He knew his brother was goading him and he struggled to not rise to the bait. "If you certainly think so, then it must be."
"So, you don't agree?"
"That I didn't say."
"So, it must mean you do."
Philip opened his mouth but there was no way out of this trap. He wisely closed it and lifted his shoulders. The smug smile Christopher gave him was galling. "What is it?"
"I knew I sense more than what you let on." His brother looked like the cat who got the cream. "Since you loathed to reveal the fact that you are partial to her physical appearance, it must indicate some physical desire on your part that you do not want to feel."
He knew he could hide nothing from his brother. "You read me like an open book."
"Is it because I said that it is because she is almost a sister to you? No." Christopher shook his head before the younger man could reply. "There is no actual blood relation between the two of you. That shouldn't be a deterrent." He lifted a booted leg to rest atop his other knee. "Could it be...the night terrors?"
Philip stilled on his perch by the desk. "What night terrors?"
"Come now, brother. We've already established you can hide no secrets from me." Christopher stood to walk over to where Philip was. "I have heard the shouts in the middle of the night when you stayed with me last month after you returned. How long have they been plaguing you?"
Philip stared at the floor, unsettled by the gentleness he heard in his brother's voice. It'd been a very long time since his brother had the chance to show him such kindness. "I-" A hot ball of emotion lodged itself in his throat and he'd to swallow a few times to get pass it. "It first started after Napoleon abdicated in 1814. It worsened after the battle at Waterloo."
He felt a hand rest on his shoulder. It squeezed him with infinite tenderness, yet he felt the strength of his brother's love beneath it. "They haven't been as bad lately." He thought about the time he spent with Eliza in London and it brought a rueful smile to his face.
"You've found a remedy?"
"Of sorts. A woman. A widow in London." He quickly added. "Being with her has helped me a little."
Christopher chuckled. "I wouldn't deny that a woman's touch is indeed a soothing balm. But now that she isn't here to help you, what will you do?"
Philip stared out the window into the immaculately kept gardens below. "I'm not sure. Something that will wear out the body enough so my mind will follow suit. Walking, swimming, horseback riding. Whatever there is to be done."
Garrett dashed off a note to his friend to meet him in the library. However, the footman came back to inform him that the other man had gone riding with his brother.
He looked out the window and thought that was a fine idea indeed. And if he were lucky enough, he might meet the pair en route.
After having changed his clothes to something suitable for riding, he made his way to the stables, and bumped into his sister with her friend, Miss Frederica Blackmore, who were coming in from the gardens.
"Good afternoon, Miss Blackmore. I see you have arrived safely. My sister would be glad of your company."
"Thank you, Mr Kendall. You have quite the beautiful house here, and large fine grounds I heard. You must like it very much here."
They were no strangers for he'd seen her take tea at Healey House in London during the Season. She was a lovely woman who possessed a pair of emerald green eyes and light brown hair that would turn coppery red in the sun. Her cheeks were still plump with youth though the rest of her was womanly and beguiling.
However, he knew nothing of her character for they'd spend no extended time together since he'd deliberately avoided the Season's activities, as his sister and mother were very well aware of. Hence he knew nothing about her beyond the fact that she was a distant relative of a baronet and a debutante like his sister.
He suppose she must possessed some characteristics that his sister approved of for they'd become intimate friends over the course of the Season and were rarely seen outside each other's company.
"Yes, I do. In fact, I'm off to ride around said grounds."
"Oh, can we join you?" His sister piped. "I can use it as an excuse to not accompany Mama as she greets her guests as a pretence to introduce me to potential husbands." She rolled her eyes and they two of them chuckled.
"Yes, I don't see why not."
"Wonderful." She tugged on her friend's arm. "Let us change and we'll meet you in the stables. You can look for a suitable mound for Frederica." Then she spied her lady's maid, Betsey, coming toward her.
"Miss Kendall!" Betsey hailed her. "Her ladyship wishes to see you."
"Drat!" She turned to him. "Will you keep my friend here company while I go see what Mama wants?"
He nodded and then it was just the pair of them left. "Should I fetch your maid to be your chaperone, Miss Blackmore? I'm not quite certain what rules I should follow."
She lifted her shoulders. "We aren't cloistered in a room with the doors closed. We're out here for all and sundry to see. I daresay we aren't flouting propriety too much."
"Yes, I suppose that is true."
An awkward silence descended and he wondered what he could say to her that wasn't about the weather or fashion — which he realised was all the conversation he'd ever had with ladies in London during the Season.
"I trust your journey was agreeable."
"Yes, it was. Almost two and a half days by carriage, which was slightly longer than my aunt anticipated."
"She is well?"
"Yes, though she is resting at the moment. But she was quite beside herself to have been invited. She has...few acquaintances."
He nodded, unsure how to continue. This was why he hated having to partake in the Season's activities. Meeting new people was a painful experience for him as he never could quite find it in him to make polite conversation.
A bird trilled in the distance, and the muffled rumble of a carriage pulling up into the driveway signalled the arrival of yet another guest.
"This is quite the awkward affair, is it not?" He glanced at Miss Blackmore who was smiling self-depreciatingly. "Your sister shouldn't have left two people who are barely acquainted with each other to amuse themselves."
He returned the smile. "Indeed. And she must have forgotten that I'm terrible at making polite conversation. I never quite know what to say that is not intrusive yet not inane."
"Quite the pair we are, Mr Kendall, for I never quite know what to say that isn't too plain-speaking, or too forward. Propriety quite despairs of me."
He frowned, for he couldn't imagine the fetching creature opposite him would have a lack of men vying for her attention. "I'm certain there're men who do appreciate honesty in a woman. And beauty. I'm surprised you haven't a whole gaggle of starry-eyed gentlemen trailing after you."
"A gaggle of starry-eyed gentlemen indeed." She covered her mouth demurely. "Would that the gentlemen of the ton have the same discerning eye or open-mindedness as you, I would have certainly have my pick."
Twirling her parasol, she sighed forlornly. "Alas, it seems that only you appreciate my beauty and wit." She faced him and fluttered her eyelashes in such an exaggerated manner that he couldn't help his laugh. "Would you deign to be my only suitor, Mr Kendall? My aunt will be quite relieved. I daresay she wishes I'd marry off quickly so she wouldn't be worried about me causing a scandal."
Garrett continued chuckling and she joined in. They fell silent again after, but it was slightly more companionable now. "And would you like to marry, Miss Blackmore?"
"It is not a matter of whether I would like to, Mr Kendall. I have to. I have no income of my own and have no immediate male relatives whom I can depend on, save my aunt and uncle who are sponsoring me for the Season." She stared out at the gardens, twirling her parasol, this way and that. "A woman, nay a lady of noble birth, finds herself only having one option in life. Either way, she is solely dependent on her male relatives to provide for her."
Glancing at him, she continued, "In some ways, I quite envy the women of the working class, for they have some freedom in choosing their life, including their husband, while I must be content to be a broodmare — for some title or other — that should only give birth to male primogeniture or risk being condemned."
He shouldn't have been stunned by her bleak assessment of her own future — for Adelaide had expressed the same sentiments repeatedly, though not quite as grimly — but he was struck by how terrible it all sounded. "While it is how things are, I'm certain the reality of it isn't that wretched."
"Is it not?"
"The people around me seem quite content in their marriages. I suspect they respect and admire one another, even if they do not love their spouse."
She turned to face him fully and he could see the astonishment on her face. "Sir...are you, a romantic?" She tittered. "There is no need to look so horrified, Mr Kendall. I'm only stating that you have an optimistic view of things, not that you have the pox."
He coughed to cover up his surprise. "No, not that. I...I have never thought myself an optimist, madam, for I tend to hopelessness when I see how Parliament makes decisions. I rather thought I was a realist, for I know the difficulties I need to surmount to bring about change."
"That is precisely the definition of a romantic, Mr Kendall. Why should a realist be despondent at how things are when he knows they are precisely as they should be? Only a romantic would have hoped for a different outcome."
He stroked his chin. "I believe there is some measure of truth in your words, Miss Blackmore."
"There usually is."
"My, my. Aren't we arrogant?"
"It isn't arrogance if it is the truth. A fact is indisputable, and therefore cannot be accorded any emotion." When she noticed he'd gone still, she turned around to look at him, her expression inscrutable.
He shook himself out of his daze. "My apologies, Miss Blackmore. I was-"
She cut him off. "I suggest you refrain from displaying such an obvious astonishment at a female's intellect, sir." The mild contempt in her tone made him feel embarrassed and guilty. "It quite boggles the mind how men can disregard a woman's mental capacity yet employ her sex to educate and oversee the development of their children."
"Yes, you're right. I do not dispute that. I do sincerely and wholeheartedly apologise for having unwittingly offended you, Miss Blackmore." He cleared his throat. "I will admit to being surprised by your erudition on the subject. However, if you would grant me the chance to shed light on my reaction, I would be most grateful."
"I'm nothing if not gracious." She gestured with her hand for him to continue.
"My amazement has very little to do with your sex. Rather, there are very few men of my acquaintance who are able to even expound on a topic with such confidence and flair without resorting to using verbosity to confound and complicate a simple matter."
He ran a hair through his hair, the frustration evident in his voice and face. "Some of the men in the House of Commons employ such tactics. It is absolutely vexing to hear them talk in circles all day about matters that are easy to decide on a course of action for. Would that you or any intelligent woman be allowed to speak on such a subject in Parliament, we wouldn't need to spend so many months debating."
This time, it was her turn to be stunned into silence. He looked at her, a playful glint in his eyes. "Should I be offended, madam, that you have been rendered silent by my words?"
"I-" A self-depreciating smile flitted on her lips. "I suppose I rather walked into that trap, didn't I?"
"Come now, Miss Blackmore. There is no need to pretend a humility you do not feel. We both know that wasn't a trap. It was a poor attempt at humour on my part."
Betsey reappeared at that moment. "My apologies, Mr Kendall, Miss Blackmore. Miss Kendall sends her regrets at not being able to go riding. Her ladyship is detaining her far longer than she expected."
"Thank you, Betsey."
He turned to look at the other woman while the maid departed. "And here I thought I would be chaperoning the two of you. Yet it seems that we now would need our own chaperone should we decide to go riding. How shall we amuse ourselves now?"
Miss Blackmore was about to answer when she saw a maid approaching them. "It seems you shall have to amuse yourself alone, Mr Kendall, for my own maid has come. My aunt is likely wanting me. Good day, sir."
He watched her walk towards her maid and only when they disappeared around the corner did he then make his way to the stables, a grin on his face the entire time.
He was still in high spirits when he met Wyndham and his brother while out on his ride. His friend remarked as such and he realised he'd enjoyed himself in the company of Miss Blackmore far more than he expected. "I had the unexpected fortunate of furthering my acquaintance with my sister's friend whom she'd met in London and invited to join us for the festivities." He didn't notice Wyndham tensing beside him at the mention of his sister.
"What is her name?" Dover asked.
"Miss Frederica Blackmore. Her uncle is Sir John Leyland, I believe. Distant relatives, I think."
"I daresay this is one of the rare occasions that you have enjoyed the company of a debutante, Kendall." Wyndham remarked as they trotted leisurely across the rolling grounds.
Garrett nodded. "Miss Blackmore is an Original. And as striking and intelligent as Athena."
"The goddess of war?"
"And of wisdom."
"What did she do to win your high praise?"
He recalled her putdown. "She put me in my place. Quite soundly in fact."
"Huh." Wyndham raised an eyebrow and a corner of his mouth lifted. "I never figured you for one who enjoyed being rebuked. I shall endeavour to do it more often."
His brother chimed in. "I daresay Kendall will only enjoy it if you were of the fairer sex. And whose surname is Blackmore."
Garrett ignored their guffaws. "If ever you should have the pleasure of her company, you might not be so cavalier in your attitude. Miss Blackmore's words are as sharp as Athena's sword."
The other men grinned. "We shall see, Kendall. We shall see." While they continued on their way, Garrett wondered when he'd have a chance to engage in conversation with the fair Miss Blackmore again.