The dame couldn’t have been more pleased. “You must meet my son and daughters.”
Harrow muttered under his breath, “Yes, by all means, Mrs. Jenkins, call over your brood...”
The woman was either oblivious to the man's rudeness, or simply did not care that she had earned Mr. Harrows disdain. She waved for her children to join her and the three Jenkins siblings stepped forward. The eldest, Mr. Edmund Jenkins, mirrored his mother's good natured expression and pale hair. Behind him a lovely pair of sisters dressed in satin ribbons and the pure white muslin of marriageable ladies curtsied. The elder of the two possessed the ethereal beauty that was much in fashion. Light brown hair curled delicately around an angel's face, Lilly was lovely, and from her haughty expression, well aware of the fact. The younger, Lizzy, smiled with such honest charm it was impossible not to smile back.
Where Arabella was reserved, it seemed Mrs. Jenkins had a gift of creating conversation where there was none. “It is such a pity you arrived after supper, your ladyship, for you missed half the dancing. When this set ends shall I ask the Master of Ceremonies to call your favorite?”
“That is very kind of you,” Arabella replied far too quickly. Trying to amend her outburst, she leaned closer, ignoring the looming, dark-hair
ed male's snicker and added, “But I do not intend to dance this evening.”
“That is a shame.” The woman glanced to her handsome son as if he might persuade her.
“You will learn, Mrs. Jenkins,” Mr. Harrow interjected, “that Lady Iliffe does things in her own time.”
Arching an eyebrow, Arabella glanced at the lurking annoyance and said nothing.
“Is that not a lady's prerogative?” Edmund offered, smiling and charming.
“And you, Mr. Harrow.” Mrs. Jenkins turned to the scowling man. “It is seldom that we gain your presence at such an event. Do you intend to dance this evening?”
“I'm certain he does,” Arabella interjected, impish. “Mr. Harrow is far too much a gentleman to refuse two such lovely ladies.”
It was Lilly whose wide hazel eyes hinted longing. Seeing her so, Arabella wished she had kept her mouth shut, uneasy Mr. Harrow might hurt the girl's feelings.
Instead of the cutting remarks he always flung at her, the man bowed with a deceptively inviting smile and offered an arm toward the young woman.
How strange it was to watch him play the wolf in sheep's clothing, how beguiled the crowd for not recognizing the devil in their midst. Or did they? The assembly continuously shifted around him so as not to hinder his path in unaffected submission.
The fair-haired gentleman at her side requested Arabella’s attention. “How do you enjoy the county, your ladyship?”
Her answer was sincere. “The moors are breathtaking.”
“But a wild place,” Mr. Jenkins said. “Many who come from town find the solitude too much for their taste. Most choose not to linger.”
Emerald eyes darted toward the youngest sister. “Do you enjoy taking the air Miss Lizzy?”
“Edmund escorts me on a walk daily,” the young woman nodded toward her brother. “Though, we hardly leave the grounds of Stonewall Grove.”
“Stonewall Grove?” Arabella asked. “Are we near neighbors?”
It was the brother who answered. “We are just six miles off from Crescent Barrows, nearer the township of Harding, your ladyship.”
“And how excited we were to hear Crescent Barrows had a new tenant,” Lizzy exclaimed. “It has stood empty for years.”
“I cannot say I am surprised.” Not with the aggravating landlord and the sorry state of the property.
Mistaking Arabella’s meaning, Lizzy leaned closer, whispering, “So, you are you not afraid of the ghosts?”
“I wasn't aware I lived with any.” The baroness could not help but laugh. Seeing the girl blush, she amended, “But you’ve captured my attention... Tell me more.”
“Well,” Lizzy wavered, looking as if she felt foolish, “the White Woman is said to haunt your grounds.”
Edmund sought to soften the legend by quickly adding, “It is merely the tale local mothers tell to frighten youngsters into behaving.”
Giggling, Lizzy added, “She wanders the moors... snatching naughty children away in the night.”
“I have not met her,” Arabella smiled. “The only fright I’ve had at Crescent Barrows was finding nothing but sermons and spiders in the library.”