Page 9 of A Match for Princess Pompous
The Summerfields’ butler answered Jack’s knock and ushered him inside. The butler did not offer to take his hat, which indicated he would not be left waiting long.
Mrs. Summerfield stepped into the entryway. He bowed and received a curtsy in return.
“Tabitha is delighted at the prospect of your company this afternoon. She has spoken of nothing else.”
That was surprisingly easy to believe. Miss Summerfield seldom spoke, so he struggled to imagine her waxing long about their drive. But, then, if she’d uttered even a single sentence about their afternoon together, it might very well have been the only thing she’d said all day. Still, he was likely supposed to be flattered.
“I am pleased she is joining us. I believe it will be a pleasant excursion.”
Miss Summerfield appeared on the landing above and quickly and silently descended the stairs. Her mother had insisted shewas “delighted” to be taking an afternoon drive with him, but she looked far closer to terrified.
Another bow and curtsy exchange followed her arrival in the entryway. She offered what was likely a commonplace greeting but in a voice so quiet he could not be certain. If only his parents’ choice for his bride had been a brashly confident young lady, he could simply express his disinterest, and she would have dismissed him and saved her effort and attention for someone else. A quiet, uncertain young lady whose parents were as forceful as Miss Summerfield’s would be made to suffer from the loss of a suitor.
What a fragile dance they were all enacting.
The butler opened the front door once more. Jack offered Miss Summerfield a quick smile of reassurance and motioned toward the door.
“I believe our companions for the afternoon have arrived.”
She looked to her mother, who nodded earnestly and motioned her to go.
Jack knew his role in this exchange. “Your daughter will be returned safely and in good time.”
“You have my full confidence, Mr. Hewitt.” Her tone was a bit too vehement, too earnest for such an ordinary declaration. So much about his interactions with the Summerfields felt forced.
What were Mr. and Mrs. Summerfield like when they weren’t in pursuit? He hadn’t been home enough in the brief weeks before this match was settled upon by their parents to truly know.
Terrance was coming up the walk with his partner on his arm. Jack could not, for a moment, move toward them. Terrance had invited Odette.Odette.On Terrance’s arm. Preparing to take a drive around Hyde Park.
Jack didn’t know whether to be grateful or frustrated. An hour or so in her company was an unforeseen boon. But spendingthat time pretending to be indifferent to her would be torturous. They had so little opportunity to see each other. This felt like a waste.
Terrance grinned at them both. “If I’d known you would be stepping out so quickly, we would have simply sat in the carriage like a couple of sluggards.”
Anyone who did not know her well would miss the laughter underlying Odette’s unimpressed expression. She really had a wonderful sense of humor. He seldom smiled as much as he did during their walks around the neighborhood at home. He certainly never laughed as much.
The four of them returned directly to the carriage. Jack handed Miss Summerfield up, and she sat forward-facing, scooting to the far side of the carriage.
“I far prefer being forward-facing.” Odette spoke with the self-assured air that had earned her that hateful moniker. “I would like to sit beside Miss Summerfield.” She did not wait for an answer but stepped up beside Jack. She held a hand out to him. “If you would be so good, Mr. Hewitt.”
“Of course.” He took her hand.
The touch, which ought to have been utterly commonplace, sent a rush of warmth up his arm directly to his heart. Oh, how he missed her. How he longed for the right to simply hold her hand, to offer her his support for something as ordinary as stepping into a carriage. To be able to talk with her again. Laugh with her.
Her eyes held his for what felt like ages, though it could not have been more than a fraction of a moment. What he saw there broke his heart. She was hurting, deeply, and he could do nothing about it.
“I am sorry,” he mouthed silently.
She stepped up into the carriage, pulling her hand free of his, and sat beside Miss Summerfield. He understood the necessity, but he missed the feel of her hand in his.
Terrance grinned at him as he stepped up into the carriage himself. “Looks like we’re to be seatmates. Can’t say I’m overly pleased by the trade.”
Jack managed to find some amusement in the situation. He felt certain Odette had asked for the change in seats to help him avoid being seen in public sitting beside Miss Summerfield and to make certain she was not connected by the gossips to Terrance.
The coachman set the carriage rolling toward Hyde Park. Odette sat with hands primly folded in her lap, her expression unwaveringly neutral. The disguise of apathy had grown more convincing of late. Was she growing more adept at pretending, or was she every bit as miserable as she appeared?
How much longer could she endure this charade?
Terrance, grinning and enthusiastic as ever, dove into the silence. “I believe ours will be the most popular carriage in the park today. I fully intend to tell everyone who asks that Hewitt, here, is the hanger-on, while the three of us are quite the social set.”
