Drops of Gold(30)

A week ago, she’d walked into Collingham on the pretense of obtaining a few medicinal herbs for Caroline, which she had obtained, and chosen a length of deep blue muslin. It was dark enough to not be entirely inappropriate for a governess, but it wasn’t black or gray, which she thoroughly appreciated. She looked to be in a perpetual state of mourning in her current attire. She had no ill-founded expectations of being invited to the wedding, but she wanted to look nice just the same. She would be the most fabulously dressed female in the nursery, which was, she admitted, a rather pathetic accomplishment—but still an accomplishment.

“Do I dare ask what has you so obviously amused?”

Mr. Jonquil! Why did his sudden appearance make her heart flutter? She thought of Mr. Jonquil’s story about his father’s heart spasms but quickly squelched the panic that thought pricked.

“I was thinking of your brother’s wedding,” she said.

He looked at her with obvious curiosity. “Philip’s wedding?” He leaned against a nearby tree, folding his arms casually across his chest. “Whatever for?”

“It will be very festive.” For some unaccountable reason, she couldn’t bring herself to admit to her delight in her new dress. “Caroline is already beside herself with anticipation.”

Mr. Jonquil smiled ever so slightly. “Let us hope she doesn’t work herself into another fever.”

“Nothing of the kind,” Marion answered with a little chuckle. “It has been the greatest tool in getting her to remain in bed at nap time and retire a little early at night. I simply tell her that if she is sick for the wedding, she’ll miss it entirely.”

“Devious, Miss Wood.” Mr. Jonquil’s smile grew, his eyes never straying from her.

Under his scrutiny, Marion felt rather plain and shabby. If only she had her new blue dress on.

“You must be happy for the earl.” She hoped Mr. Jonquil didn’t notice her flaming cheeks.

“I am.” Mr. Jonquil answered perhaps a touch too quickly. He looked away from her, out over the river. “I’ve met Miss Kendrick. She and Philip are very well suited.”

“Then they’ll be happy?”

“Undoubtedly.” The wistfulness in his tone worried her. Why did Mr. Jonquil never seem happy?

“May I ask you a rather prying question?” she blurted before she could stop herself.

He looked back in surprise. Then, smiling as if he found her outburst amusing, he said, “I suppose.”

In for a penny, in for a pound, she told herself. “Caroline has mentioned quite a few people to me in the month or so that I have been here, and other than Flip, who turned out to be an earl, no less, I haven’t been able to identify them. Would you mind . . . ?”

“Solving the mystery?” His smile grew to almost heart-shattering proportions. “I’ll do my best.”

He stepped away from the tree and casually sat on the blanket near her. The heart-fluttering began again, more pronounced than before.

“Who are these mysterious individuals?” Mr. Jonquil took his hat off, laying it on the blanket beside him.

Marion required only a moment to get hold of her voice again. “I’m fairly certain the names she gave me are not their actual names.”

“Oh, I am entirely certain. Caroline is famous for rechristening people. Yours seems to be the only name she regularly says correctly.”

Marion winced a little at that. “Mary,” after all, was not her correct name. But that was hardly Caroline’s doing. Marion had told the child her name was Mary. “Let me see if I can remember them all.” Marion bought herself a moment to regain her composure. “There was a Chasin’. A Stanby. Corbo. Someone she apparently finds so bewitching that she calls him Charming. And a Holy Harry.”

Mr. Jonquil’s bark of laughter was so unexpected, Marion actually jumped a little before sitting back and enjoying the sound of it and the sight of him with eyes crinkled in amusement, a smile so wide it split his face, the look of devastation gone from his eyes for once.

She smiled herself to see Mr. Jonquil’s transformation, and she fervently prayed that the racing in her heart, which had replaced the fluttering, wasn’t a symptom of her pending demise. It would be a shame to expire just then, when she’d accomplished so much with Caroline and her father.

“Yes, Miss Wood.” He reined in his laughter. “Those are my distinguished brothers. Jason. Stanley. Corbin. Charlie, who probably is a little too charming for his own good. And Harold.”

Marion laughed to hear their actual names, which were decidedly close to what Caroline had christened them. “And which one, pray, lives with horses?” She felt her grin grow. “Caroline assures me one of them does.”