“You took Hannah to call upon Colonel Goddard’s household last week,” Mrs. Dorning said. “Have you any idea what disgrace Miss Dennis might have referred to?”
The colonel himself did not know, but it wasn’t Ann’s place to reveal that. “You should ask your brother, ma’am. In my experience, he is both honest and honorable.”
Mrs. Dorning returned to the sofa. “He is also my brother and unfailingly careful with me. Rye blames himself for my first marriage, but Rye had nothing to do with it. Papa wanted his darling daughter to have a title, and I wanted to make my papa proud of me. If I’d known my vows would result in my brother spending years at war…”
What was wrong with English fathers that their daughters longed so desperately for paternal approval?
“The colonel was a good soldier, ma’am. I believe he regards his years of service with pride.”
“Then why is somebody implying that he blundered, Miss Pearson? My own in-laws were guilty of spreading unkind talk regarding my brother, but now I find others are doing worse than that. Why is Minerva Dennis, who has nothing better to do than experiment with new coiffures, slandering Orion over her glass of punch?”
“Perhaps you should ask her.” Somebody should. For military men to mutter and murmur among themselves was one thing, but for the talk to spread to female ears was another and an altogether worse development.
“I am tempted to. I am tempted to call upon her with Mr. Dorning at my side. Sycamore has a way of charming and threatening at the same time, and he takes any slight to family seriously.”
Ann had heard Mr. Dorning and his brother Ash going at each other with raised voices on any number of occasions. Ash Dorning was far less in evidence at the Coventry since he’d married, while
Sycamore Dorning’s marriage had resulted in his greater involvement at the club.
“Might you not first call upon the colonel?” Ann asked. “My guess is he’d rather you confront him than resort to stratagems involving Mr. Dorning.”
“Orion is aware of the talk, then?” Mrs. Dorning sprung that trap as she casually topped up Ann’s tea cup.
“You’d have to ask him, ma’am.”
Ann’s hostess set down the teapot and sat back. “He already has your loyalty, doesn’t he? He does that. Rye has the gift of commanding respect, which makes this slight from Minerva Dennis all the more alarming.”
“You really ought to talk to your brother, ma’am.”
“Mr. Dorning says the same thing, and he has long practice dealing with family in difficult situations. Sycamore will find positions for Rye’s household infantry, but Sycamore will not offer that help until it’s clearly needed.”
That help was needed. If Ann knew anything about Orion Goddard, besides that he was a highly skilled kisser, she knew he worried over those boys, even more than he worried for his own standing.
“Call on him, ma’am. He won’t ask for help. That he asked me to take on Hannah was a matter of dire necessity and because Hannah herself had him send for me.”
Mrs. Dorning turned a curious gaze on Ann. “Did she? Did she really? Have another piece of shortbread, Miss Pearson. This recipe is my favorite, and I am something of a connoisseur of shortbread.”
It’s my recipe. Ann took a bite rather than make that announcement. “Will you call on your brother, Mrs. Dorning?”
“I don’t want to offend him, but Sycamore has heard that Orion’s champagne is not much in demand, despite its superb quality. I suspect Rye might have to remove to France purely for the sake of economy, and six growing boys must be a drain on his exchequer.”
Remove to France? Well, that made sense, and yet… Ann did not want Rye Goddard removing to France. Not yet, not when she’d only recently stumbled upon him. His kisses were delightful, but she thought, too, of how he’d tried to shelter his fading roses from the harsh wind, of his distress at Hannah’s discomfort, of his unwillingness to put Ann to the trouble of a tea tray.
He was a good, dear man, and he should not have to leave behind all he valued because of some mean-spirited military prattling.
“Six growing boys are likely a drain on the colonel’s patience as much as they are on his exchequer. What specifically do you like about this shortbread?”
Mrs. Dorning considered the two pieces remaining on the plate. “Other than the flavor being a perfect balance between short and sweet, the texture is superior. Shortbread can quickly become as hard as a clay brick, suitable only for dipping, but this shortbread stays light and delectable.”
Precisely. “The secret is to cut the biscuits out and set them on a sheet to bake, but to let them sit for a time first. The dough dries out so the baked shortbread is lighter, and the sweetness concentrates. I also use brown sugar instead of white, and you mustn’t forget a dash of salt.”
The variations from that point were endless—vanilla, lavender, cinnamon, orange, lemon… Rather like Orion Goddard’s kisses, each one unique and more delectable than the last.
“It’s your recipe, isn’t it, Miss Pearson?”
“Yes.”
“What should I do about my brother?”
Why ask me? Except Ann suspected she knew why: Mrs. Dorning hadn’t any other siblings of her own to consult, and Rye had prevailed on Ann to solve Hannah’s situation. That he would ask Ann for that consideration had been extraordinary.
“What would your husband tell you to do, ma’am?”
“He’d tell me to risk offending Rye by offering support before it’s needed, except if I do offend my brother, he will never ask for my help. I am not Sycamore, to take six rejections as evidence that I must apply myself harder on my seventh try.”
“Then don’t offer your help,” Ann said, rising. “Apologize for being the reason he was sent to war. He won’t see that coming.”
“I was the reason he was sent to war.”
“Tell him that, and go from there. I must return to my duties at the Coventry, but thank you for the tea.”
Mrs. Dorning rose, her smile slight but mischievous. “And for the shortbread?”
“Especially for the shortbread. Good day, ma’am.”
They exchanged curtseys, which felt curiously appropriate, and Ann returned to the kitchen just in time to see Jules bump into Hannah’s bucket of pea pod shells. The mess went everywhere, Jules went off into a flight of French insults, and Henry’s gaze became a careful blank.
“No matter,” Ann said, sailing forth before she’d even removed her cloak. “Your clumsiness is easily remedied, Monsieur, and we will have the mess you’ve created cleaned up in a moment. These little blunders are nothing to be upset about.”
Henry blinked, Jules fell silent mid-curse, and Hannah scurried off for a dustpan and broom. Ann set the bowl of shelled peas on the counter—Jules had doubtless been aiming to spill those too—and knew that war had been declared in the kitchen.
And if he hadn’t been before, Jules was surely her enemy now.
Chapter Eleven
Orion Goddard showed up on Ann’s doorstep on her half day exactly as he’d promised, and she nearly sent him away.