“We’ll be cheering for you, of course,” I said.
“Thank you, Mrs. Ames. I … I suppose I’d better go make sure Molly is ready.”
“Of course. We’ll see you later, Bertie,” I told him cheerfully.
He walked a few steps from us and then turned back.
“Mr. Ames, what would you do if you knew a secret, and someone would get hurt no matter what you did with it?”
I looked at Milo, hoping he wouldn’t give one of his standard flippant replies. To my relief, he seemed to realize as well as I did the weight with which Bertie had imbued the question. “I suppose I’d have to consider the options and choose to protect what mattered most.”
Bertie nodded. Then he turned and disappeared into the crowd.
8
“WHAT DO YOU suppose that was all about?” I asked Milo.
“I don’t know.”
“Do you suppose we ought to ask him about it?”
“Darling,” Milo said, taking my hand in his and bringing it to his lips. “You don’t have to solve everyone’s problems.”
I sighed. “I suppose you’re right.”
And so I determined to forget the matter and enjoy the festival.
Bertie had not quite left my mind, however, when I encountered Marena in the crowd not an hour later. Milo had wandered away toward the racetrack as I browsed the selection of knitted and crocheted blankets available for purchase. I had chosen one in white and one in a pale yellow and turned to pay for them, when I saw Marena standing beside me. She looked very pretty today in a dress of pale rose-colored silk with leather shoes of a similar hue.
“Oh. Hello, Marena,” I said.
“Oh, Mrs. Ames!” She flushed a little, and I realized that she was no doubt thinking about the last time I had seen her, at the inn during the altercation between her two suitors.
“I … I wonder if I might speak to you for a moment?” She glanced around us, making it clear that she didn’t wish to be overheard.
“Of course.” I handed the two blankets to the woman who was minding the stall. “I’ll be back for these in just a moment, if that’s all right?”
Then I followed Marena to a little space between two of the tents. When she turned to face me, she didn’t meet my eyes. “I wanted to talk to you about … well, to apologize for what happened at the inn.”
I had thought as much. Though it was really not my concern who she involved herself with, I was sure the altercation I had witnessed had been embarrassing for her. I also wondered if she was worried that I might mention something to the Busbys. I suspected she wouldn’t have told them about Darien. Though I had mentioned to them that Bertie had a rival, I had kept the fact it was Milo’s brother to myself.
That was no guarantee, however, that they didn’t know. It was always amazing to me that anything could be kept quiet in a village of this size. But I supposed there were ways to keep secrets when they were important enough. No doubt there were a good many skeletons in the village cupboards that had yet to be discovered.
Before I could say anything, she plunged ahead. “Bertie acted ridiculously. I’ve never been so angry. I broke things off with him a few weeks ago, but he doesn’t seem to understand that I meant it. He’s a nice boy, but it just wasn’t going to work between us. We want different things from life. And then Darien came along, and, well … I’m crazy about him. I’ve never met anyone like him.”
I wasn’t quite sure how to respond to this, as I agreed that Darien was certainly unique, though my opinion of his particular brand of originality was clearly not as positive as hers.
“I want to tell you that Milo and I don’t know Darien,” I said. “We didn’t know of his existence until a few days ago.”
She nodded. “He told me that Mr. Ames didn’t know about him, that his arrival here was a surprise. He wanted me to know that he is … well, illegitimate. He said it would be best if I knew now rather than later. I told him, of course, that that doesn’t matter to me. It’s not his fault what his parents did, is it?”
“No, it’s not. But what I mean to say is that we cannot vouch for him.”
A slight frown flickered across her face, a cloud passing over the sunshine of her exuberance. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that we really know nothing of his background. And there is another matter…” I paused, weighing how much of it was none of my business and how much of it was my responsibility, as someone a bit older and wiser, to relate to her the dangers of involving oneself with a man one barely knew.
“There’s the matter of another young woman with whom he was connected,” I said, deciding she needed to know. It wouldn’t do her any good to shield her from the truth. Indeed, the sooner she found everything out the better. On that score, Darien and I were in agreement.
If I thought she would be shocked by this information, however, I was to be surprised. “Imogen, you mean.”
So he had told her that much, had he?
“He mentioned her to you?” I asked.
“Yes, Darien has told me all about his past. He said that he and Imogen had talked of getting married but that he realized he wasn’t in love with her and couldn’t go through with it.”
She spoke with calm authority on the matter, as though she were in Darien’s complete confidence. I found it difficult to believe he had told her the extent of his relationship with Imogen Prescott.
“It seems he falls in and out of love rather easily.” I hoped this pointed remark would drive home the fact that she hadn’t known him nearly long enough to believe they were ideally matched, but she merely smiled serenely.
“I think, when real love comes along, one knows it.”
“You’ve only known him a week.”
“I feel as though I’ve known him forever,” she said wistfully.
I recognized that tone in her voice and felt that any influence I might have on her was negligible. Nevertheless, I pressed on. “That may be, but it’s difficult to think clearly when one’s feelings are so strong.”
She smiled at me as though I had said something very silly. “I’ve always heard that you and Mr. Ames met and married quickly. Perhaps it runs in the family.”
I had come up against one of the arguments that was most difficult to rebut. Inevitably, young women looked at Milo and assumed a whirlwind romance with a handsome and charming gentleman led to a life of bliss. This was not the case; there were a great many things I had not considered when pledging to spend the rest of my life with a man I barely knew.
It was difficult to tell them this, however, when I was currently so happy and contented. I wouldn’t change my life with Milo, but the path to get here had certainly not been a bed of roses.
Whatever the case, one look at Marena’s face told me it would be useless to argue the point with her at present. She was besotted, and I knew that nothing I could say about my own relationship—or about Darien—was going to dissuade her.
“Is Darien here today?” I asked, glancing around as though he might suddenly appear.
She shook her head. “I was with him this morning and told him that I would meet him later. He doesn’t care much for juvenile frivolities.”