Romancing the Heiress(5)
Author: Darcy Burke
The world seemed to narrow around Phin until he felt as if he stood at one end of a tunnel, and at the opposite end was everything he needed: an heiress to save the gardens from certain doom.
Phin smiled broadly. Miss Selkirk could be the solution to his problems. “You’ve come to the right place at the right time. The Marrywell May Day Matchmaking Festival has been making successful matches for hundreds of years.” Except for a stint during and after Cromwell, who apparently hadn’t possessed a romantic bone in his body.
“That’s exactly what we were hoping,” Mrs. Selkirk said. “Perhaps you wouldn’t mind giving us a preview of the festival along with a tour of the gardens?”
“Not the entire gardens,” Leah said, again with her flat tone. “They are exceptionally large, and it would take the rest of the afternoon, the evening, and perhaps even the entire night.”
Mrs. Selkirk pursed her lips at Leah. “We don’t need to see every square yard. You needn’t accompany us if you’d rather return to the inn.” Did she sound hopeful?
“Nonsense, Mama,” Miss Selkirk said, speaking for the first time. Her voice was soft and lovely, with a cultured London lilt. “Of course Leah will come along. She will have plenty to contribute to the conversation since she’s attended many festivals. I imagine she’s also well acquainted with the gardens.” She turned her dazzling blue eyes on Phin. “And perhaps with you too, Mr. Radford?”
“Most definitely. We’ve known each other since before I can remember, actually. I think I was three when we met. Or so my father told me.”
“I recall it distinctly,” Leah murmured.
“Yes, well, you are older than me by a year and two months,” he said with a grin before turning to address the others. “I’d be happy to preview the festival for you. We can start by touring the dais where the two most important things happen.”
“And what are those?” Miss Selkirk asked.
“The announcement of the seven maidens fair by the May Queen on the first night of the festival and the announcement of next year’s May Queen—and King—on the last night.” He moved to offer Miss Selkirk his arm. “Come, I’ll show you.”
“Leah told me about the maidens fair,” Genevieve said. “Apparently, they’re the most sought-after young ladies at the festival.”
Phin escorted Miss Selkirk along the path toward the dais. “That is often the case.”
“Are they always young ladies?” Mrs. Dunhill asked from behind them.
“Mostly,” Phin replied, assuming he was responding to Mrs. Dunhill because it hadn’t been Mrs. Selkirk, and Leah didn’t sound like that. But then Leah didn’t sound entirely like herself, at least not in the presence of her employers. Did they expect her to speak and behave in a certain fashion? He recalled her stiffening when they approached. Perhaps Mrs. Selkirk preferred that Leah comport herself in a particularly formal manner, much like a butler in a grand house.
Phin didn’t like that. Leah was too carefree and amiable to suffer such restrictions. Or she had been when he’d known her. It was likely she’d changed in the years she’d been gone.
Either way, who was he to judge or make assumptions? This was Leah’s occupation, and she would do what was necessary to satisfy her employers. Just as Phin would do whatever was necessary to keep the gardens from falling into ruin.
To that end, he turned his focus entirely on Miss Selkirk. “Let me tell you about how this entire area is transformed at night with light and music. It’s quite magical.”
She smiled up at him. “Yes, do tell me.”
He tried to envision himself married to this young woman and…failed. What was he to expect? He wasn’t looking to fall in love. While that would be nice, it wasn’t required. He needed an heiress.
Love was something he couldn’t afford.
Chapter 3
That evening, Leah asked Mrs. Selkirk if she could call on her friend the next day. Leah hadn’t mentioned that her friend was the Duchess of Lawford. If she had, Mrs. Selkirk would have invited herself, Genevieve, and Mrs. Dunhill.
Wrinkling her nose, Mrs. Selkirk had responded that she would prefer if the friend visited Leah at the inn. So, Leah had sent a note to Sadie, whom she’d known practically all her life, inviting her to the inn the following afternoon.
Leah walked into the small sitting room between the narrow chamber she shared with Genevieve and the larger bedchamber occupied by Mrs. Selkirk and Mrs. Dunhill. All three ladies were seated and looked toward Leah as she entered.
Mrs. Selkirk’s eyes narrowed as Leah moved toward the door. “Where are you going?”
Summoning a bland smile, Leah said, “My friend is meeting me downstairs as you requested.” Mrs. Parker had been delighted to arrange tea for Leah and Sadie in the corner sitting room.
“Oh, that.” Mrs. Selkirk waved a hand before narrowing her blue eyes. “You and she aren’t leaving the inn, are you?”
“No. Would it be a problem if we did?”
“I suppose not. I wondered if you might have changed your mind about visiting your parents.”
“She wouldn’t have done,” Genevieve answered. “Leah isn’t close with them.” That was all Leah had told her.
Despite Genevieve’s assurance, Mrs. Selkirk looked to Leah expectantly.
“I have not and will not change my mind,” Leah said. “What Genevieve says is true.” Hopefully, she wouldn’t see them at all during the festival. This was likely, for her mother didn’t care for social engagements.
“Well, that’s a shame,” Mrs. Selkirk said without a hint of pity or care. “It sounds as though my aunt did you a favor when she plucked you from this town.”
“She did indeed.” A mix of gladness and sorrow twisted together in Leah’s chest. “Lady Norcott was a wonderful person.”
“Yes, we were privileged to call her family.” Mrs. Selkirk often reminded Leah, in subtle ways like this, that they were Lady Norcott’s family, no matter how close Leah and the woman had grown over their six years together.
“If you’ll excuse me, I don’t want to keep my friend waiting,” Leah said demurely. She hesitated, and when Mrs. Selkirk didn’t say anything, Leah left the suite as sedately as possible.