Lizzy came alight. “If you have a love for books, then you must come to Stonewall Grove. My father's library was his pride. Oh do say you will come, Lady Iliffe?”
Arabella hesitated, unsure what to say. Before her pause might offend, the baroness offered, “I will call Thursday, if it would be no trouble to your mother.”
Mrs. Jenkins had remained silent while her children wooed the baroness but instantly crowed, “You are very welcome to Stonewall Grove, Lady Iliffe.”
A squeal came from Lizzy, the girl snatching Arabella's hand. “What fun we will have.” Glancing over flaming red hair, the youngest Jenkins grinned. “Edmund, will it not be great fun?”
He smiled with a brother's affection. “Try not to crush Lady Iliffe's fingers.”
Waving off his teasing, Lizzy began to speak about her new favorite book. Like her mother, she had a gift for talk, making the conversation one that required very few replies from Arabella. Everything was going well, the baroness grew marginally comfortable... until an unknown hand came to her elbow.
She startled.
“You must be tired of this press,” Mr. Jenkins could see he’d surprised her, withdrawing his touch. “Shall I find you a seat, or wine...” A thought struck him. “Do you care for cards, your ladyship?”
Arabella nodded, swallowing. “Indeed, I do care for cards.”
It was a gentle offer, unassuming and simple. “Come, allow me to escort you to the gaming tables.”
Looking down at the proffered elbow, she knew her disinclination was foolish—especially considering the gentleman, with his golden curls and blue eyes, had been so obliging. Edmund and his family had been kind thus far. Her duty was to return that kindness... yet it took Arabella a considerable amount of effort to set her gloved hand to his elbow.
If he’d noticed her reluctance, Edmund did not show it.
Like the ballroom, the area set aside for cards was crowded. It was peculiar, the magic of perceived rank amongst those who had yet to learn how infamous she truly was. A table was immediately cleared for her use. The baroness took a seat, Mrs. Jenkins across from her. Before a soul could object, Mr. Harrow materialized, Lilly on his arm and took the chair at Arabella's side. Lilly stole quickly across and sat to partner him in the game. The two interlopers had been so slippery that Edmund and Lizzy were obliged to spectate, the younger sister scowling at Lilly for pushing past her.
The cards were shuffled, a game of whist decided upon.
After a childhood spent tricking Englishmen out of money, Arabella let herself enjoy the moment. Her pleasure only grew as it dawned on her that gambling seemed a sport at which Mr. Harrow held himself in high regard... and that round by round, she was absolutely decimating the snidely smirking man.
Mrs. Jenkins initiated customary small talk. “What brought you to our county, your ladyship?”
Arabella organized the cards in her hand, keeping her focus on the game. “I have a deep fondness for the wilderness.”
“And Crescent Barrows, do you not find such a distant dwelling lonely?”
It seemed an inappropriate question considering the man who owned the building was at their table, but Arabella was more than happy to answer. “I greatly appreciate the solitude.”
Mrs. Jenkins’s well-meant motherly chiding continued. “You are far too young to say such things.”
No. She wasn’t.
Chilled wine was brought to the table with such flawless timing, Arabella had an excuse to hold her tongue. Once all had sipped their glasses and the game progressed, Arabella turned to the delicately pretty Lilly and asked, “Do you ride, Miss Jenkins?”
“No, Lady Iliffe.” A snide frown marked Lilly’s disapproval of such things. “Riding about the moors is no place for a young lady. I keep to the drawing room...” she looked to Arabella's tawny skin, “out of the sun and near my pianoforte.”
“I have heard you are a skilled musician, Miss Jenkins.” The compliment was Mr. Harrow’s.
Blushing, Lilly batted her eyes, coyly glancing back to her cards. “I'm sure my talents have been exaggerated.”
Whatever the beauty’s skill at music, she did not possess the same at the card table. Arabella won the round. “And Miss Lizzy, does she play as well?”
Mrs. Jenkins answered, interrupting her eldest daughter before she could speak. “Lizzy sings beautifully.”
Arabella smiled. “Your daughters must be very accomplished, Mrs. Jenkins.”
The older woman glowed at the praise, set down the final card in the set, and won the round for the baroness. Snickering at their victory, Arabella began to shuffle for the next hand, showing great dexterity and precision in her manipulation of the cards to those with a keen eye—especially the irritating landlord whose money she was more than happy to take.
More coin was put down as the betting progressed, but Lilly stole Arabella’s triumph with a few thinly veiled words. “You're so young to be a widow alone in the country.”