Rivals and Revels (A Regency Romance)

2. Adonis and Caliban

The entire week Mabel fretted over some imaginary disaster that might prevent her from calling on Miss Carter. The Walton's estate, a perfectly pleasant house of brown brick and white plaster, felt like a prison she had to flee.

Only once she was safely installed in the carriage with the three other ladies, did she allow herself to relax. Soon, she'd be studying the marvellous spyglass and browsing Miss Carter's library at her leisure. The clip-clop of the horseshoes on the gravel of the tree-lined alley stirred her chest better than a marching song. 

"Is the astronomical spyglass in working order?" she asked. 

"Quite so." Miss Carter smiled, then covered her upturned nose with a scented handkerchief against the dust stirred from the road. "I tested it extensively and its capabilities are admirable, both for observing the stars and the landscapes."

Hazel turned her pretty face away from the window and clapped her hands. "I always thought that the name spyglass implied a little bit of naughtiness."

"What harm could come from a brief survey of the lands? It's just innocent fun," Miss Carter said in a tone that implied that the occupation offered far more fun than innocence.

It was vexing that Hazel was quicker than she to catch up on the hidden meaning behind Miss Carter's words. Mabel rushed to change that. "Is that so?

 "I have discovered, for example, that Mr. Chesterton has a love of healthy pursuits."

"Perhaps it is a habit he acquired while in the navy," Mabel said, discomforted that the conversation turned to this Mr. Chesterton again. 

Why is it that us women talk so much of men?

Blush rose to her cheeks: could the reverse be true? But no, couldn't possibly be so. Her father seemed always preoccupied with weightier topics and her brothers—pooh! Her brothers were childish in every way. It would be a wonder if they spoke of aught but balderdash. 

"Your guess is very likely to be true, dear Mabel, because he swims before dawn in the Border Lake in spite of every kind of weather."

Mabel would have been perfectly glad to leave it at that, but Hazel had suddenly become insufferably curious. "But how do you know, Miss Carter, that this is Mr. Chesterton and not one of the men of their household? It is a sizable estate and I venture that the distance must be too great even for the spyglass."

Her sister had made a reasonable observation, Mabel had to admit. The Border Lake was so named because its long sinuous expanse hugged the boundary of Chesterton's lands with three smaller holdings, but mostly the Walton's. It was a far distance from Miss Carter's house.

"Mr. Chesterton has a standout build," Miss Carter argued emphatically, visibly distressed that someone questioned the veracity of her words, "and a very striking appearance."

Mabel could not judge this assertion as easily as she had the previous one, for she had never seen the gentleman, even from a distance. The word of mouth had him pegged as the handsomest man in Lancashire, but a sizeable fortune could have played a role in this favourable view.

The same thought must have occurred to Hazel because she asked, "Is this true that he is rakishly handsome?"

Miss Carter's expression had become positively devious. If she weren't such a good friend, Mabel would have suspected her of teasing Hazel's sensitivity to unknown ends.

"I am not a good judge of such things, as you well know, but if I had to describe Mr. Chesterton to you, I would have sketched for you an image of a tall man with military bearing, a slender waist and a full head of coal-black curls."