“Miss Bascombe! A lady does not simply stop in the middle of a dance.”
“I didn’t feel like continuing,” Mary replied crossly.
“That is of no importance. One should press on until the end of the dance. After that, of course, you may plead a headache and ask to be returned to your chaperone. But one must not interrupt the dancing.”
“Oh, for goodness’ sake, we are just practicing!”
Miss Dalrymple’s bosom swelled with indignation, and Mary was reminded forcibly of a pouter pigeon.
Before she could speak, Sir Royce stepped between them, saying, “I fear it was my fault, Miss Dalrymple. I was teasing Miss Bascombe, and it quite distracted her. You must blame me.”
Mary watched Miss Dalrymple somewhat sourly as she simpered at Sir Royce. It was most annoying the way the woman, so rigid with them, positively melted if Royce so much as smiled at her.
“Now, Sir Royce, isn’t it just like you to take the blame?”
“Mmm. He’s a perfect gentleman.”
Miss Dalrymple frowned at Mary. “Sarcasm is not beguiling, particularly in a young person.”
“I wasn’t trying to be beguiling,” Mary shot back. “Really, Miss Dalrymple, must we be charming and sweet our entire lives? Is there no time when we are allowed to be ourselves?”
The older woman pursed her lips. “Not if you expect to land a husband. No man wants a wife who cannot keep a civil tongue in her head. Isn’t that right, Sir Royce?”#p#分页标题#e#
He, for once, was at a loss for words. “Um … well …”
“I am quite aware of Sir Royce’s standards in a wife.” Mary sent him a single, flashing glance. “Fortunately, I would not think to look for such a paragon of a husband as Sir Royce.”
Even her sisters looked amazed at Mary’s caustic tone. Miss Dalrymple drew her breath to deliver a lecture, and suddenly Mary felt as if she would explode if she had to listen to one more word from that woman.
“Excuse me,” she said shortly. “I fear I am not good company this afternoon.”
With that, she whirled and ran from the room. Behind her she heard Miss Dalrymple sharply call her name, then Royce’s calming murmur.
Mary rushed down the hall and out the back door, afraid that one of her sisters might take it into her head to come after her. Mary did not feel like talking to anyone, even Rose. She had made a fool of herself, she knew. She did not care what the annoying Miss Dalrymple thought, but her siblings would not understand why she had spoken so slightingly about Royce. Indeed, she was not sure she understood it herself.
Mary crossed the terrace and went down the steps into the garden. She had walked through much of the garden that lay close to the house, but today she headed toward the lower garden, where the plants grew in wilder profusion, leading to the small orchard and beyond that a meadow. Perhaps a longer walk would help her work out why she had grown so irritated with Sir Royce. She had forgiven him for what he’d said that night to the earl. Nor was she angry about what had happened between them at the inn. That had been as much her fault as his, the result of the excitement of the moment, the bizarre situation in which they had found themselves.
But, she realized, he had been able to move on, seemingly to forget about the passion that had flared between them. He could be at ease, even flirt with her in his old, meaningless way, whereas she found her mind returning again and again to those few minutes, reliving the kisses and caresses. Indeed, if she was honest with herself, she knew that she wished she could experience those things again! It was absurd. Pointless. And that, she knew, was the crux of the problem, the basis for her irritation: she wanted something—someone—she could not have.
Mary raised her head and glanced around, faintly surprised to find how far she had come. Somehow she had wandered onto a path lined on both sides with thick green hedges that grew higher than her head. Where was she?
She turned in a circle. She could see only the curving hedges about her. Finally, with a shrug, she started forward again. She was bound to emerge from the hedges at some point, and once she could see the house again, she would be able to find her way back.
After a few more minutes, Mary came upon an intersection of paths. She paused, wondering whether to turn left or right. The hedges grew high in either direction until they curved out of sight. What was this place? As she stood there, she heard a rustling noise on the other side of the hedge.
“Hello?” she called, turning toward the noise. Perhaps one of her sisters had come looking for her, and the two of them were wandering about only a few feet from each other. “Is someone there?”