Twins of Tenby Hall

Chapter 23

Behind Blackstone Abbey Isabel and Sicily ran laughing in fields of gangly trees, rained on by twirling, crunchy leaves as Eugene Dunsworth chased them, grinning, and demanding they return to him his hat. 

"What is it the gentleman demands, Izzy! Do you see the gentleman's hat??" Sicily twirled and settled said hat on her friend's hair. 

"I do hope he does not mean my hat!" Replied she, cocking it coyly atop her head, then dodging out of Dunsworth's way as he grasped for it halfheartedly.

He stopped, ruffling his hair and kicking the grass as he contemplated how to out-wit them – as if he could not catch them if he tried. He stepped towards Isabel, only for her to send the hat spinning towards Sicily, who caught it and placed it over her bonnet before dancing a little jig. Her jig was cut short with a squeal of glee as Dunsworth snagged his sister in his arms and attempted to force the hat from her hands; it was thrown over his shoulder and held aloft triumphantly by Isabel. His shoulders sagged with a sigh, though his lips still held laughter and his eyes still sparkled.

Dunsworth leaned against a tree, resolute. "I am bested." Relented he, gazing at Isabel from under cow lashes as he straightened his coat. She ambled over and held out his hat to him, but he saw the glint in her eye that told him her concession of his accessory was a trick. She did not retreat fast enough, and found herself pinned between he and the tree. 

"Oh fie!" gasped she through joyful exertion. He plucked the hat from her fingers and tipped it onto his head where it belonged. 

"I should have counted my blessings when I had only Sicily to bother me." Dunsworth declared with a pleased expression, utterly unbothered. He stepped back that Isabel might go free. "Now I've two wild things to live with and I am dreaming of the days I just had one." 

"Pish Tosh! You love us! What fun would you have without us!" Sicily contradicted with a grin. "And don't say such things or Miss Riley with think herself a nuisance!" 

"I hope Miss Riley knows never think of herself as a nuisance..." 

"I shall try." Isabel obliged happily. 

Mrs Dunsworths voice carried through the woods, "I am told you three are adults but am hard pressed to believe it! Come inside and get yourselves presentable or we will be late for dinner! Lady Fields will not be happy to be kept waiting!"

They were not late, Lady Fields was happy, dinner was quiet except for murmured conversations and the occasional glance of silver against china; and the mewlings of Lady Fields' many cats.
The Wescott's were there, naturally, as well as a visitor. Lady Fields' nephew, six-and-thirty years old, recently come home from the Americas, rugged and tan and very wealthy (Isabel was informed in hushed tones by Mrs Wescott that he had nearly seven thousand pounds a year). Isabel Riley ate her soup in inconspicuous silence and eavesdropped on the conversation between Miss Wescott and the man across from her. 

"Are you happy to be back on English soil, Mr Fields?" 

"Happy enough, but it's not near as exciting as the wild country." 

"Oh La, I can imagine." her round eyes widened. "It must take a special caliber of man to brave such a place." 

"You're right, there, Miss Wescott." he smirked. "You can't afford to be soft or you'll end up scalped or worse." 

"Ooohh." Miss Wescott produced a little gasp. "Have you ever fought a savage?" 

Mr Fields merely smirked again. 

"How terrifying, your wife must worry for you every day." she simpered coyly. 

"I don't keep a wife Miss Wescott. Life in the West is too rough for a gentlewoman." He once again smirked; Isabel wondered if he was capable of any other expression. Isabel also wondered how full of swill one man could possibly be, as she knew there were plenty gentlewomen in the 'West' who got on just fine. Isabel pushed a rather determined gray tabby off her lap.