Fic: "Nine Years Later," Chapter 2/7
Title: Nine Years Later, Chapter 2 of 7
Summary: Pike/One Regency AU.
Pairing: I guess we start getting some intimations of Pike/One and Kirk/McCoy here.
Rating: PG for this chapter
Content Advisory: Flowers and verbal sparring.
Word Count: This chapter, about 2900; 23,657 total.
Notes: Please go here for the full header.
Chapter 2
In which there is a nearly unbearable amount of domesticity
The next morning
Riverside House, Patterson House, and Hyde Park
Lieutenant-well, ex-Lieutenant; he’d resigned his commission-Leonard H. McCoy woke just after dawn, as per usual, and stared at the ceiling until his brain caught up. It took him a few moments to remember that he was neither in a damp tent somewhere in France, nor in his bedroom in his parents’ home outside of Edinburgh, nor in the home he’d so briefly shared with his wife. No, he was in one of the myriad guest bedrooms in the London house of the Earl of Riverside, who until a few months ago he merely knew as “Captain Kirk.”
And his daughter Joanna was just a floor away, in the nursery, with a brand-new governess and a nursemaid. Just the thought of her made him smile, albeit not without regret. He’d hoped, in that way that men with brand-new wives often did, that he’d left Jocelyn with child before he’d gone off to serve, but to learn that she’d died bringing his little girl into the world still ached. He’d gotten a letter saying Joanna had been born, but his sister-in-law had not seen fit to tell him that Jocelyn had died. The minute he’d gotten back, he’d gone to Edinburgh to find them both.
He’d gotten only one.
That was nigh on six months ago. He’d spent the intervening time living with his sister-in-law and her husband, getting Joanna to believe that he was her father. About the time that it had finally worked, Jamie Kirk had shown up on his doorstep and begged him to move to London to help him fend off the matchmaking mamas. Being that he owed the boy his life many times over, he couldn’t refuse-especially considering how poorly he and Jocelyn’s sister got on.
Since he’d been in London, Jamie had been invited to hundreds of social events, and had refused all of them until their former commander had come over for supper and had casually mentioned that he was considering renewing his acquaintance with one Lady Eve Chapel. Jamie had gone into immediate tactical mode, planning a campaign that involved the three of them, as well as Miss Joanna. Captain Pike-that is, Lord Prescott-had protested, as did McCoy for himself and on behalf of his daughter, but Jim would not be stopped and he had accepted invitations on behalf of all of them to a ball that evening that, his sources told him, would be graced by the presence of one Lady Christine Chapel and her chaperone and oldest sister, Lady Eve.
Lady Christine Chapel was extraordinarily beautiful; he hadn’t seen the sister, but from Lord Prescott’s descriptions, she was her sister’s equal, if ten years older. McCoy heaved a sigh. Neither of the Chapel ladies were for him. If he was lucky, he’d find a nice young miss of his own with a nice dowry to add to his small-but-not-nonexistent fortune.
The sun was well-risen, so he threw himself out of bed and padded to the washstand, splashing water over his face. He dressed, shaved, and attempted to put his hair into some sort of order in a reasonably-short period of time, and went downstairs to see about breakfast.
McCoy had polished off one plate of toast, sausage, and kippers before he heard tiny feet racing down the stairs and slightly more sedate adult feet following behind. Joanna burst into the breakfast room before her governess could stop her, and said, “Daddy!”
“Miss Joanna!” Miss Colt said, horrified, as McCoy stood up and swung his daughter into his arms.
“It’s all right, Miss Colt,” he said. The governess was strawberry-blonde, cute as a button, and no more than eighteen, although she’d told them she was twenty-three. He had his suspicions about her name, as well. McCoy felt remarkably paternal towards her, as did (inexplicably) Jamie, and they were both hoping she would be able to handle his daughter for the long-term. “Joanna, lass, if you run inside the house, you may fall and hurt yourself.”
“No, I won’t, Daddy. I’m ever so careful.” She looked up at him with big hazel eyes, same as his own, though the ringlets in her brown hair were straight from her mother.
He couldn’t do anything but smile in return, which wouldn’t serve for disciplinary purposes. He kissed her on the forehead and set her down on the floor. “Have you eaten already?”
“Yes, Daddy,” she said. “Can we go riding today?”
“May we go riding today,” Miss Colt corrected her.
“May we go riding today?” Joanna parroted.
“We’ll see, Joanna,” he said. “I do not know what Uncle Jamie has planned, but perhaps later this morning?”
‘Uncle’ Jamie himself strode into the breakfast room right then, as if he’d been waiting for an entrance cue. “McCoy,” he said, clapping McCoy on the shoulder. “Miss Joanna McCoy, how lovely it is to see you this morning.”
Joanna giggled and buried her face in her father’s leg.
“Miss Colt,” Jim said, acknowledging the governess’s presence. She blushed and backed up a step, and McCoy raised an eyebrow. Of course she was in love with Jamie. He’d yet to meet a female person between the ages of-he looked at Joanna-five and death who wasn’t.
“So,” Jamie said. “What’s on the schedule for today?”
“I would very much like to go riding,” Joanna piped up, and Jamie looked down at her and smiled.
“I think we might be able to arrange that,” he said. “But today, your father and I must pay a social visit. Would you mind waiting until we return?”
McCoy looked at the clock on the mantel. It was barely half-past eight, and social visits could not be conducted until noon at the very earliest. They had more than enough time to ride with Joanna-and by ‘ride’ he meant ‘walk beside her as she sat on the oldest, most docile pony Jamie had’-and still be ready to pay whatever social visit he meant. He opened his mouth to say as much, but thought better of it as Joanna was already nodding her head in agreement.
“I will be patient,” she said, and McCoy smiled fondly.
Miss Colt said, “Miss Joanna, we must leave your father and the earl to their business now. Would you like to explore the garden before it is too sunny?”
“Yes, I would like that very much,” Joanna said, absolutely properly, and then ruined the moment by pulling on McCoy’s trouser leg to be picked up for a hug. He obliged, setting her back down, and she curtseyed to Jamie before running out of the room.
“I’m sorry, sir, my lord,” Miss Colt said, dropping a quick curtsey. “I’ve been working on manners, but she’s only five.”
“We know,” Jamie said, and she dropped another curtsey and scampered out the door, calling after her charge. “Damn, that daughter of yours has energy.”
“She does at that,” McCoy said, smiling. “And what do you have planned for the next three and a half hours, before we go pay your unknown social visit? For that matter, why on earth must I go with you on a social visit?”
“I have estates to run,” Jamie said, “and I am not going to visit Lady Christine Chapel without having you for a second.”
“It’s certainly not a duel,” McCoy said. “Lady Christine?”
“Well, I certainly can’t go visit Lady Eve. She wouldn’t admit me if her life depended on it.”
“Why are you visiting either of them?”
“I sent her flowers,” Jamie said, as if that explained everything.
“I’m sure this makes perfect sense to a master tactician such as yourself, but for one who was employed during the battle as a surgeon’s assistant, would it please your lordship to make the plans perhaps a bit more clear?” McCoy said, imitating Jamie’s London drawl.
“It’s quite simple. The first plan of attack is to visit Lady Christine at precisely noon, at which time a certain Lord Prescott shall be visiting a Lady Eve at the same address. My presence at Patterson’s address-with the addition of a Scottish lieutenant with a tragic past-will clearly preoccupy all the women there, and Lord Prescott will have Lady Eve’s attention all to himself.”
McCoy could think of fifteen ways in which that plainly wouldn’t work, but he kept his complaints to himself. “And what is the secondary plan?”
“I believe I shall keep that plan to myself,” Jamie said, and McCoy rolled his eyes. He’d been around the younger man long enough to know that meant there wasn’t a secondary plan.
Three hours or so later, McCoy watched Jamie retie his cravat for the third time, causing his valet to throw his hands in the air and leave in a huff. “Are you sure you aren’t courting Lady Christine?” he asked.
“She is lovely, I’ll admit, but no; she’s not to my tastes.” Jamie tweaked a fold and declared his handiwork ‘sufficient,’ and they left.
* * *
Lady Eve inspected the piles of flowers in the hallway and shook her head. There were twenty-five bouquets, all variations on daisies, since Chrissy had let slip that they were her favorite flower. Didn’t fashionable gentlemen have more imagination? She started writing down names so that her sister could thank the gentlemen properly when they came to call.
Ahh, but at the back, there was a bouquet with no daisies in it at all. Interesting. Eve plucked the card and stopped dead, seeing handwriting she hadn’t read in years. The bouquet-red and white roses, how subtle-was, of course, from Lord Prescott and addressed to her, with merely a “Yours, Chr. Pike, Baron Prescott” for signature. For it to be at the back, he must have sent it over very early. It was barely ten now, and visiting hours would start at noon. She had two hours to escape.
Her first order of business was organizing someone else to chaperone Christine before luncheon, and fortunately, their mother was awake and up to the challenge. “Does this mean I get to meet the fabled earl of Riverside?” the countess of Patterson asked as her maid finished dressing her hair.
“Yes,” Eve said, and hesitated. It would be proper to inform her mother that Christopher may stop by, but she didn’t want to. Nevertheless, she said, “Mother, it is possible that I will have a caller as well.”
Lady Patterson looked at her daughter. “If you desire to escape the presence of this caller, there is only one gentleman it could be.”
Eve raised her chin. “I have received flowers from Baron Prescott, yes.”
“Are you sure you do not wish to see him, Evie?”
“I do not.”
“You do not have to leave, my dear. We could turn him away. He has certainly done enough to deserve our censure.” Lady Patterson looked altogether too sympathetic, and Eve closed her eyes briefly.
“No, mother. He is a hero now; we certainly cannot turn him away.”
“I suppose you are right,” Lady Patterson said, patting the top of her head to settle the pins.
Her next step was penning a quick note to Lord Spockton and sending a footman over to deliver it. She waited in the library and did not tap her toe in impatience the entire time, but considered it. Just under an hour later, she had a response-the one she anticipated, as Lord Spockton was entirely predictable in some matters-ordered her horse readied, and flew upstairs to change into a riding habit.
While she was dressing, Christine let herself into Eve’s room. “Evie, are you deserting me?”
“Mother will be with you,” Eve said, buttoning her jacket.
“Does this have anything to do with Lord Prescott?”
“Of course it has something to do with Lord Prescott,” Eve said. “I do not wish to see him this morning. Please do not be exceptionally rude to him,” she added.
Christine shot her an odd look. “I will not, since it is your wish. With whom are you riding?”
“Lord Spockton.” Eve found the hat that matched her blue riding habit and perched it atop her hair.
Christine frowned. “You and he are quite friendly.”
“He is interesting company,” Eve said, jabbing a pin through the hat, “and he is not remotely likely to think of me in a romantic sense.”
“Oh, I doubt that,” her sister said. “You are very beautiful, and you and Lord Spockton sometimes seem to speak the same language.”
“I appreciate your desire to see me happy, Christine, but please believe me when I say that Lord Spockton thinks of me as a sister or cousin.” Eve stuck a final pin through her hat, checked her appearance in the cheval-glass, and headed for the door. “I will see you at lunch, my dear.”
Lord Spockton arrived at precisely 11:30, and they were off and riding, trailed by a maid on a pony, mere moments later. “Where do you wish to ride, my lady?”
“Hyde Park will do,” Eve said. Her mare, Judith, nipped at Lord Spockton’s gelding, and she reined her in easily. “Unless you have a preference?”
“Hyde Park is acceptable,” he said in his inimitably dry manner.
* * *
It didn’t take Jamie, McCoy, and Captain-Lord Prescott more than a minute to figure out that Lady Eve Chapel had-quite rudely, McCoy thought privately-deserted her sister. They paid their respects to Lady Christine, though, and conversed with her and eight other gentlemen politely.
In response to a question about her favorite pastimes, asked by the young and brash Lord Riley, she gave a peculiar answer, though. “Oh, I very much enjoy riding,” she said, with a breathless emphasis that seemed out of character to McCoy. “I especially enjoy riding around the Serpentine in Hyde Park. It is quite beautiful at this time of year. Don’t you agree, Lord Prescott?”
Lord Prescott looked up smoothly. “Why, yes, Lady Christine, it is quite picturesque in the spring.” The conversation turned to other topics, but no more than ten minutes after that, both Jamie and Lord Prescott made their excuses and left. McCoy trailed after them, having been included in Jamie’s excuses.
“That was a stroke of luck,” Lord Prescott said, as they waited for the groom to bring their horses.
“Indeed,” Jamie said. “I thought that Lady Christine quite disapproved of you.”
“I did as well,” Lord Prescott said. “Well, shall we?” They both grinned.
McCoy looked back and forth between the two of them, and finally asked, “Shall we what?”
“Go to the Serpentine to search out Lady Eve, of course,” Jamie said.
Of course. “We should return to Riverside House and fetch Joanna first,” McCoy said.
Jamie looked at him, and a smile spread on his face slowly. He slapped McCoy in the shoulder. “Good man!” The horses arrived, and McCoy steadfastly ignored the warmth spreading throughout him at Jamie’s approval of his suggestion.
Half an hour later, on foot except for Joanna and her pony and accompanied by Miss Colt, they approached the north side of the water, opposite Rotten Row. It was nearly one in the afternoon, so McCoy did not have much hope of seeing Lady Eve, but the other gentlemen clearly did, and he deferred to their superior knowledge.
Whatever it was they knew turned out to be right, as they passed a group of giggling ladies and saw the haughty and exotic Viscount Spockton escorting a lovely, dark-haired lady with a very familiar jawline, dressed in a blue riding habit, on a brown mare. “Well-done,” McCoy said under his breath.
“Spock!” Jamie called out. “Why, Lady Eve, how lovely it is to see you in daylight.”
Lord Spockton looked pained for a moment before giving a nod of acknowledgment to the group. Lady Eve perhaps compressed her lips ever so slightly before responding to Jim’s hail. “Lord Riverside.” She paused significantly before continuing. “Lord Prescott. Lieutenant McCoy, I presume, although I don’t believe we’ve met.”
“No, ma’am,” McCoy said, with a short bow.
“Lady Eve Chapel, may I present Lieutenant Leonard McCoy and his lovely daughter Joanna,” Jamie said, indicating the four-year-old on ponyback, who stared with wide eyes at the two strangers.
“Lieutenant, pleased to make your acquaintance. I believe you know my companion, the Viscount Spockton.” Her voice remained absolutely even throughout the entire conversation, although it did not escape McCoy’s notice that she’d passed over Lord Prescott very smoothly.
“We’ve met,” McCoy said. “Joanna, please greet the lady.”
Colt nudged her charge in the leg as well, and Joanna said, “I am pleased to make your acquaintance, my lady.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss McCoy. How are you enjoying London?”
Joanna blushed and ducked her head at Lady Eve’s question, and mumbled something about it being quite large into the pony’s mane.
“Yes, although at times it does not seem large enough,” Lady Eve remarked. “If you’ll excuse us?” She and the viscount turned their horses and rode around the group easily. All three men were left staring.
A moment passed before Jamie clapped Lord Prescott on the shoulder. “Well, Kit, it appears that the unparalleled lady loathes you.”
“A hit, a palpable hit,” Lord Prescott quoted in agreement, a strange half-smile that McCoy had never seen before on his face.
Interesting.
Chapter 3 | Master Post
Summary: Pike/One Regency AU.
Pairing: I guess we start getting some intimations of Pike/One and Kirk/McCoy here.
Rating: PG for this chapter
Content Advisory: Flowers and verbal sparring.
Word Count: This chapter, about 2900; 23,657 total.
Notes: Please go here for the full header.
Chapter 2
In which there is a nearly unbearable amount of domesticity
The next morning
Riverside House, Patterson House, and Hyde Park
Lieutenant-well, ex-Lieutenant; he’d resigned his commission-Leonard H. McCoy woke just after dawn, as per usual, and stared at the ceiling until his brain caught up. It took him a few moments to remember that he was neither in a damp tent somewhere in France, nor in his bedroom in his parents’ home outside of Edinburgh, nor in the home he’d so briefly shared with his wife. No, he was in one of the myriad guest bedrooms in the London house of the Earl of Riverside, who until a few months ago he merely knew as “Captain Kirk.”
And his daughter Joanna was just a floor away, in the nursery, with a brand-new governess and a nursemaid. Just the thought of her made him smile, albeit not without regret. He’d hoped, in that way that men with brand-new wives often did, that he’d left Jocelyn with child before he’d gone off to serve, but to learn that she’d died bringing his little girl into the world still ached. He’d gotten a letter saying Joanna had been born, but his sister-in-law had not seen fit to tell him that Jocelyn had died. The minute he’d gotten back, he’d gone to Edinburgh to find them both.
He’d gotten only one.
That was nigh on six months ago. He’d spent the intervening time living with his sister-in-law and her husband, getting Joanna to believe that he was her father. About the time that it had finally worked, Jamie Kirk had shown up on his doorstep and begged him to move to London to help him fend off the matchmaking mamas. Being that he owed the boy his life many times over, he couldn’t refuse-especially considering how poorly he and Jocelyn’s sister got on.
Since he’d been in London, Jamie had been invited to hundreds of social events, and had refused all of them until their former commander had come over for supper and had casually mentioned that he was considering renewing his acquaintance with one Lady Eve Chapel. Jamie had gone into immediate tactical mode, planning a campaign that involved the three of them, as well as Miss Joanna. Captain Pike-that is, Lord Prescott-had protested, as did McCoy for himself and on behalf of his daughter, but Jim would not be stopped and he had accepted invitations on behalf of all of them to a ball that evening that, his sources told him, would be graced by the presence of one Lady Christine Chapel and her chaperone and oldest sister, Lady Eve.
Lady Christine Chapel was extraordinarily beautiful; he hadn’t seen the sister, but from Lord Prescott’s descriptions, she was her sister’s equal, if ten years older. McCoy heaved a sigh. Neither of the Chapel ladies were for him. If he was lucky, he’d find a nice young miss of his own with a nice dowry to add to his small-but-not-nonexistent fortune.
The sun was well-risen, so he threw himself out of bed and padded to the washstand, splashing water over his face. He dressed, shaved, and attempted to put his hair into some sort of order in a reasonably-short period of time, and went downstairs to see about breakfast.
McCoy had polished off one plate of toast, sausage, and kippers before he heard tiny feet racing down the stairs and slightly more sedate adult feet following behind. Joanna burst into the breakfast room before her governess could stop her, and said, “Daddy!”
“Miss Joanna!” Miss Colt said, horrified, as McCoy stood up and swung his daughter into his arms.
“It’s all right, Miss Colt,” he said. The governess was strawberry-blonde, cute as a button, and no more than eighteen, although she’d told them she was twenty-three. He had his suspicions about her name, as well. McCoy felt remarkably paternal towards her, as did (inexplicably) Jamie, and they were both hoping she would be able to handle his daughter for the long-term. “Joanna, lass, if you run inside the house, you may fall and hurt yourself.”
“No, I won’t, Daddy. I’m ever so careful.” She looked up at him with big hazel eyes, same as his own, though the ringlets in her brown hair were straight from her mother.
He couldn’t do anything but smile in return, which wouldn’t serve for disciplinary purposes. He kissed her on the forehead and set her down on the floor. “Have you eaten already?”
“Yes, Daddy,” she said. “Can we go riding today?”
“May we go riding today,” Miss Colt corrected her.
“May we go riding today?” Joanna parroted.
“We’ll see, Joanna,” he said. “I do not know what Uncle Jamie has planned, but perhaps later this morning?”
‘Uncle’ Jamie himself strode into the breakfast room right then, as if he’d been waiting for an entrance cue. “McCoy,” he said, clapping McCoy on the shoulder. “Miss Joanna McCoy, how lovely it is to see you this morning.”
Joanna giggled and buried her face in her father’s leg.
“Miss Colt,” Jim said, acknowledging the governess’s presence. She blushed and backed up a step, and McCoy raised an eyebrow. Of course she was in love with Jamie. He’d yet to meet a female person between the ages of-he looked at Joanna-five and death who wasn’t.
“So,” Jamie said. “What’s on the schedule for today?”
“I would very much like to go riding,” Joanna piped up, and Jamie looked down at her and smiled.
“I think we might be able to arrange that,” he said. “But today, your father and I must pay a social visit. Would you mind waiting until we return?”
McCoy looked at the clock on the mantel. It was barely half-past eight, and social visits could not be conducted until noon at the very earliest. They had more than enough time to ride with Joanna-and by ‘ride’ he meant ‘walk beside her as she sat on the oldest, most docile pony Jamie had’-and still be ready to pay whatever social visit he meant. He opened his mouth to say as much, but thought better of it as Joanna was already nodding her head in agreement.
“I will be patient,” she said, and McCoy smiled fondly.
Miss Colt said, “Miss Joanna, we must leave your father and the earl to their business now. Would you like to explore the garden before it is too sunny?”
“Yes, I would like that very much,” Joanna said, absolutely properly, and then ruined the moment by pulling on McCoy’s trouser leg to be picked up for a hug. He obliged, setting her back down, and she curtseyed to Jamie before running out of the room.
“I’m sorry, sir, my lord,” Miss Colt said, dropping a quick curtsey. “I’ve been working on manners, but she’s only five.”
“We know,” Jamie said, and she dropped another curtsey and scampered out the door, calling after her charge. “Damn, that daughter of yours has energy.”
“She does at that,” McCoy said, smiling. “And what do you have planned for the next three and a half hours, before we go pay your unknown social visit? For that matter, why on earth must I go with you on a social visit?”
“I have estates to run,” Jamie said, “and I am not going to visit Lady Christine Chapel without having you for a second.”
“It’s certainly not a duel,” McCoy said. “Lady Christine?”
“Well, I certainly can’t go visit Lady Eve. She wouldn’t admit me if her life depended on it.”
“Why are you visiting either of them?”
“I sent her flowers,” Jamie said, as if that explained everything.
“I’m sure this makes perfect sense to a master tactician such as yourself, but for one who was employed during the battle as a surgeon’s assistant, would it please your lordship to make the plans perhaps a bit more clear?” McCoy said, imitating Jamie’s London drawl.
“It’s quite simple. The first plan of attack is to visit Lady Christine at precisely noon, at which time a certain Lord Prescott shall be visiting a Lady Eve at the same address. My presence at Patterson’s address-with the addition of a Scottish lieutenant with a tragic past-will clearly preoccupy all the women there, and Lord Prescott will have Lady Eve’s attention all to himself.”
McCoy could think of fifteen ways in which that plainly wouldn’t work, but he kept his complaints to himself. “And what is the secondary plan?”
“I believe I shall keep that plan to myself,” Jamie said, and McCoy rolled his eyes. He’d been around the younger man long enough to know that meant there wasn’t a secondary plan.
Three hours or so later, McCoy watched Jamie retie his cravat for the third time, causing his valet to throw his hands in the air and leave in a huff. “Are you sure you aren’t courting Lady Christine?” he asked.
“She is lovely, I’ll admit, but no; she’s not to my tastes.” Jamie tweaked a fold and declared his handiwork ‘sufficient,’ and they left.
* * *
Lady Eve inspected the piles of flowers in the hallway and shook her head. There were twenty-five bouquets, all variations on daisies, since Chrissy had let slip that they were her favorite flower. Didn’t fashionable gentlemen have more imagination? She started writing down names so that her sister could thank the gentlemen properly when they came to call.
Ahh, but at the back, there was a bouquet with no daisies in it at all. Interesting. Eve plucked the card and stopped dead, seeing handwriting she hadn’t read in years. The bouquet-red and white roses, how subtle-was, of course, from Lord Prescott and addressed to her, with merely a “Yours, Chr. Pike, Baron Prescott” for signature. For it to be at the back, he must have sent it over very early. It was barely ten now, and visiting hours would start at noon. She had two hours to escape.
Her first order of business was organizing someone else to chaperone Christine before luncheon, and fortunately, their mother was awake and up to the challenge. “Does this mean I get to meet the fabled earl of Riverside?” the countess of Patterson asked as her maid finished dressing her hair.
“Yes,” Eve said, and hesitated. It would be proper to inform her mother that Christopher may stop by, but she didn’t want to. Nevertheless, she said, “Mother, it is possible that I will have a caller as well.”
Lady Patterson looked at her daughter. “If you desire to escape the presence of this caller, there is only one gentleman it could be.”
Eve raised her chin. “I have received flowers from Baron Prescott, yes.”
“Are you sure you do not wish to see him, Evie?”
“I do not.”
“You do not have to leave, my dear. We could turn him away. He has certainly done enough to deserve our censure.” Lady Patterson looked altogether too sympathetic, and Eve closed her eyes briefly.
“No, mother. He is a hero now; we certainly cannot turn him away.”
“I suppose you are right,” Lady Patterson said, patting the top of her head to settle the pins.
Her next step was penning a quick note to Lord Spockton and sending a footman over to deliver it. She waited in the library and did not tap her toe in impatience the entire time, but considered it. Just under an hour later, she had a response-the one she anticipated, as Lord Spockton was entirely predictable in some matters-ordered her horse readied, and flew upstairs to change into a riding habit.
While she was dressing, Christine let herself into Eve’s room. “Evie, are you deserting me?”
“Mother will be with you,” Eve said, buttoning her jacket.
“Does this have anything to do with Lord Prescott?”
“Of course it has something to do with Lord Prescott,” Eve said. “I do not wish to see him this morning. Please do not be exceptionally rude to him,” she added.
Christine shot her an odd look. “I will not, since it is your wish. With whom are you riding?”
“Lord Spockton.” Eve found the hat that matched her blue riding habit and perched it atop her hair.
Christine frowned. “You and he are quite friendly.”
“He is interesting company,” Eve said, jabbing a pin through the hat, “and he is not remotely likely to think of me in a romantic sense.”
“Oh, I doubt that,” her sister said. “You are very beautiful, and you and Lord Spockton sometimes seem to speak the same language.”
“I appreciate your desire to see me happy, Christine, but please believe me when I say that Lord Spockton thinks of me as a sister or cousin.” Eve stuck a final pin through her hat, checked her appearance in the cheval-glass, and headed for the door. “I will see you at lunch, my dear.”
Lord Spockton arrived at precisely 11:30, and they were off and riding, trailed by a maid on a pony, mere moments later. “Where do you wish to ride, my lady?”
“Hyde Park will do,” Eve said. Her mare, Judith, nipped at Lord Spockton’s gelding, and she reined her in easily. “Unless you have a preference?”
“Hyde Park is acceptable,” he said in his inimitably dry manner.
* * *
It didn’t take Jamie, McCoy, and Captain-Lord Prescott more than a minute to figure out that Lady Eve Chapel had-quite rudely, McCoy thought privately-deserted her sister. They paid their respects to Lady Christine, though, and conversed with her and eight other gentlemen politely.
In response to a question about her favorite pastimes, asked by the young and brash Lord Riley, she gave a peculiar answer, though. “Oh, I very much enjoy riding,” she said, with a breathless emphasis that seemed out of character to McCoy. “I especially enjoy riding around the Serpentine in Hyde Park. It is quite beautiful at this time of year. Don’t you agree, Lord Prescott?”
Lord Prescott looked up smoothly. “Why, yes, Lady Christine, it is quite picturesque in the spring.” The conversation turned to other topics, but no more than ten minutes after that, both Jamie and Lord Prescott made their excuses and left. McCoy trailed after them, having been included in Jamie’s excuses.
“That was a stroke of luck,” Lord Prescott said, as they waited for the groom to bring their horses.
“Indeed,” Jamie said. “I thought that Lady Christine quite disapproved of you.”
“I did as well,” Lord Prescott said. “Well, shall we?” They both grinned.
McCoy looked back and forth between the two of them, and finally asked, “Shall we what?”
“Go to the Serpentine to search out Lady Eve, of course,” Jamie said.
Of course. “We should return to Riverside House and fetch Joanna first,” McCoy said.
Jamie looked at him, and a smile spread on his face slowly. He slapped McCoy in the shoulder. “Good man!” The horses arrived, and McCoy steadfastly ignored the warmth spreading throughout him at Jamie’s approval of his suggestion.
Half an hour later, on foot except for Joanna and her pony and accompanied by Miss Colt, they approached the north side of the water, opposite Rotten Row. It was nearly one in the afternoon, so McCoy did not have much hope of seeing Lady Eve, but the other gentlemen clearly did, and he deferred to their superior knowledge.
Whatever it was they knew turned out to be right, as they passed a group of giggling ladies and saw the haughty and exotic Viscount Spockton escorting a lovely, dark-haired lady with a very familiar jawline, dressed in a blue riding habit, on a brown mare. “Well-done,” McCoy said under his breath.
“Spock!” Jamie called out. “Why, Lady Eve, how lovely it is to see you in daylight.”
Lord Spockton looked pained for a moment before giving a nod of acknowledgment to the group. Lady Eve perhaps compressed her lips ever so slightly before responding to Jim’s hail. “Lord Riverside.” She paused significantly before continuing. “Lord Prescott. Lieutenant McCoy, I presume, although I don’t believe we’ve met.”
“No, ma’am,” McCoy said, with a short bow.
“Lady Eve Chapel, may I present Lieutenant Leonard McCoy and his lovely daughter Joanna,” Jamie said, indicating the four-year-old on ponyback, who stared with wide eyes at the two strangers.
“Lieutenant, pleased to make your acquaintance. I believe you know my companion, the Viscount Spockton.” Her voice remained absolutely even throughout the entire conversation, although it did not escape McCoy’s notice that she’d passed over Lord Prescott very smoothly.
“We’ve met,” McCoy said. “Joanna, please greet the lady.”
Colt nudged her charge in the leg as well, and Joanna said, “I am pleased to make your acquaintance, my lady.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss McCoy. How are you enjoying London?”
Joanna blushed and ducked her head at Lady Eve’s question, and mumbled something about it being quite large into the pony’s mane.
“Yes, although at times it does not seem large enough,” Lady Eve remarked. “If you’ll excuse us?” She and the viscount turned their horses and rode around the group easily. All three men were left staring.
A moment passed before Jamie clapped Lord Prescott on the shoulder. “Well, Kit, it appears that the unparalleled lady loathes you.”
“A hit, a palpable hit,” Lord Prescott quoted in agreement, a strange half-smile that McCoy had never seen before on his face.
Interesting.
Chapter 3 | Master Post