A born failure, indeed.
Chapter Three
Gillian and Daria had enjoyeda great claim to Artemis Jonquil’s company since arriving at Brier Hill, though her husband, Charlie, was granted a greater portion, naturally. It had very nearly felt like the earliest days of the Huntresses band, when Gillian, Daria, and Artemis had been the entirety of the group. Gillian would never wish for the other Huntresses to not be in their number, but there was something wonderful about it being just the three of them again for a time.
They’d laughed and reminisced. They’d gossiped a little, something Artemis insisted be referred to as “an exchange of information,” because it sounded far more sophisticated. There’d been no interruptions, no expectations or judgments from Society’s most critical members. It had been deeply lovely. Having the other Huntresses arrive in the next day or two would only add to that. Unfortunately, they weren’t the only others expected to arrive.
The three resident Huntresses were gathered in Artemis’s sewing room, a place that in most houses earned that name only because a basket of stitching sat in a corner. At Brier Hill, however, there was nothing so casual about the space or the work undertaken there. This sewing room contained an apothecary table with drawers filled with thread and notions and sewing supplies, a large table for working on, an easel with drawing paper and various lead pencils and chalk pencils in different colors, as well as comfortable chairs and a sofa. Everything about the room spoke of its importance and the extensiveness of its use. Artemis and Rose, a lady on whom the Huntresses looked as something of an aunt and older sister, secretly ran a London modiste shop.
While their conversations covered many topics, Gillian’s mind never entirely left the subject of those who would soon be joining them. “Are all the gentlemen Charlie invited friends of his?”
Artemis nodded. “All of them. And I have thoroughly interrogated my dear Charlie on whether they will be pleasant and welcome guests or ought to be tossed out on their ears the moment they arrive.”
“‘My dear Charlie’?” Daria repeated with a smile lacking in any degree of subtlety. “This is the same Charlie you declared earlier this very year that you intended to ignore for the rest of his life?”
A warm smile spread over Artemis’s face. “How could I possibly have kept to that approach? He is entirely remarkable.”
Daria laughed, something that came so much easier for her than it did for Gillian. “I knew the two of you were going to be wonderfully nauseating. It gives me hope of claiming a nauseating future of my own one day.”
“All of Charlie’s brothers are both old and married,” Gillian reminded her friend. “We’ll never claim a Jonquil of our own.”
The Jonquil brothers had shown themselves to be gentlemanly and kindhearted and not high in the instep. Charlie was one of the best people Gillian had ever met. Not all gentlemen were like that, as she knew all too well.
Artemis’s expression shifted to one familiar to all the Huntresses: excitement mixed with mischief. “Charlie’s friends are the correct age for any one of the Huntresses, and every last one is unattached.”
At precisely the same time, Daria and Gillian replied, “How intriguing,” and, “Oh bother,” respectively.
“This could be averyinteresting house party.” Though Artemis’s word wasinteresting, her tone saidentertaining. Andentertaining, Gillian had discovered, was not always a good thing.
Charlie stepped into the room in the very next moment. He wore work trousers and shirtsleeves that appeared to have been made of homespun beneath a well-worn waistcoat. As was always the case when he entered a room where Artemis was, his attention turned immediately to his wife.
“You’re in your garden clothes,” Artemis said.
He nodded as he crossed to the chaise and sat so close to her that not even a ray of light could have passed between them. “I’ve come to tell you an intriguing secret.”
“Have you?”
Charlie’s tone turned playful. “For a forfeit, of course.”
“I know how fond you are of forfeits.” Artemis didn’t hide her flirting any more than Charlie did.
With a sigh, Gillian said, “Oh, I do wish I’d brought my stomach tonic.”
“We have been declared nauseating,” Artemis explained.
Charlie tossed Gillian and Daria a grin. “My apologies. I will skip the forfeit and go directly to the ‘exchange of information.’ I spied a traveling coach coming up the lane. As none of my friends are expected until tomorrow, I suspect a Huntress is soon to arrive. Were I inclined to make wagers, I would place a very handsome bet on the likelihood thattwoHuntresses are soon to arrive.”
“It appears Ireland has invaded.” Artemis made the declaration with all the drama the Huntresses had come to expect from their fearless leader but also with a dose of the easy humor her marriage to Charlie had brought out in her. “Best brace yourselves, my brave warriors. Your time at Brier Hill is soon to be far more chaotic.”
“And far more fun.” Daria leaped to her feet. “Everything is far more fun with Eve and Nia.”
Daria lightened every room with her enthusiastic optimism. Gillian doubted many people, certainly none beyond theHuntresses and Daria’s brother, truly understood the burdens Daria carried.
Gillian rose more sedately than Daria had. “We will watch for them. You two can . . . sort out the payment of your forfeit whilst we are gone.”
Charlie bowed his head in an almost regal show of gratitude. He had his family’s knack for absurdity, and he perfectly exemplified the Jonquil brothers’ reputation for sincerely loving and deeply respecting their wives. He and Artemis were remarkably good for each other.
In time, all the Huntresses were likely to find love and happiness and build their future lives. What would become of Gillian then? Would they remember to write to her as she spent her years tending the gardens at Houghton Manor? She wanted to believe their attachment to her wouldn’t wane with time. But it had happened before. If a father could cut his only child out of his life, it was not so unlikely that even the dearest friends would do so in time.