Then Comes Seduction

“And she of you,” she said. “I doubt there is more than that, Stephen. She is looking forward to her come-out next year. I will make discreet inquiries, though, and set your mind at ease if possible.”

He sighed. “Why do we always think we will be free and perfectly happy once we grow beyond the restrictions of childhood?” he asked her.

She stretched up and kissed his cheek.

“Oh, I say,” he said, “we had better get down to the lake before we miss one of the wrestling bouts. Have you seen the mud hole, Kate? It makes a fellow envious of those wrestlers.”

Katherine shook her head and made no comment.

25

“HOW are you enjoying the fete, Clarence?” Jasper asked, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

Clarence turned his head and looked suspiciously at him. It was probably the first time he had heard his full name on Jasper’s lips. They fell into step together on their way down to the lake-almost everyone’s destination since word had spread that the mud wrestling was about to begin.

“I see you did some shopping while you were in London,” Jasper said. “Those are very smart clothes indeed, and I know many discerning gentlemen who would give a right arm for those boots.”

They were white-topped and sported gold tassels. The rest of his clothes bordered on the dandyish too. His starched shirt points were high and in grave danger of piercing his eyeballs if he were to turn his head too sharply. His neckcloth was tied in an elaborate, artistic knot more suitable for an evening ball than for an afternoon fete.

“I visited my tailor and my bootmaker, yes,” Clarence admitted. “One feels obliged to keep up with the latest fashions when one intends to mingle with one’s peers.”

“The ladies have had eyes for almost no one else all afternoon,” Jasper said.

“I think you exaggerate,” Clarence said, “though I have drawn my fair share of attention, it is true. Some ladies appreciate a gentleman who knows how to dress well and how to behave with dignity and decorum and allow his inferiors to participate in the games.”

“You are not going to join the tug-of-war, then?” Jasper asked.

“By no means,” Clarence said.

Jasper squeezed his shoulder.

“I ca

“Yes, well, Jasper,” Clarence said, “we never would have had differences if you had always behaved as you ought. But it is my duty as one of Charlotte’s guardians to be here today, and it is Mama’s pleasure. Perhaps you have not always understood how very fond we are of my cousin.”

Jasper kept a hand on his shoulder as they joined the crowd that had gathered about the mud pond, a safe distance away so that no one would get splashed. The eight wrestlers, all of them laborers from the farms, were stripped to the waist and barefoot-evidence of the depravity of the fete that Jasper could almost see Lady Forester storing away in her mind to be used later with her uncle, who was also present with Uncle Stanley and Dubois.

Arbitrary rules had been set for the wrestling. In each bout, the contestant who could send his opponent sprawling full length into the mud three separate times was the wi

“Ah, this brings back happy memories of childhood summers, does it not, Clarence?” Jasper said rather loudly. “We had good times, though they were often happier for you than for me.”

Clarence looked at him suspiciously.

It was not difficult to draw the attention of people who were merely waiting for the fun of the mud wrestling to resume. A number of people half turned to listen.

“Sir Clarence Forester,” Jasper explained to them, “was younger than I, but he was always somehow more nimble and sure of foot. If ever we climbed a tree, it was always I who fell out and tore my clothes. And if ever we climbed to the balustrade on the roof of the house-it was considered unsafe for boys and so was forbidden, of course-it was always I who was not fast enough to get down before being caught.”

He laughed.

So did a good number of the people close to them.

So did Clarence.

“But it was always your idea to climb, Jasper,” he said. “It was only right that you were the one to be punished.”

“And so it was,” Jasper said, and laughed again.

Jasper had fallen out of the tree because he had dared Clarence to follow him up, and Clarence, standing on the ground, had pulled at his heel-before ru

Once a weasel, always a weasel.

The wrestlers were back for the next round. They had all learned something from the first round. This one lasted much longer as the slimy brown figures of the wrestlers pulled and pushed and clawed at one another and struggled to maintain their own balance. The crowd shrieked and moaned and cheered and jeered through it all. But inevitably there were just two men left standing in the end.

There was another break in the action while the four men loped off to dive into the lake again.

“Some of these men,” Jasper said loudly enough for a large number of people to hear, “have about as much sense of balance as I have-which is not a great deal at all. Do you remember the time, Clarence, when we wrestled in the boat and I ended up in the water while you were left standing solidly on your feet? I learned my lesson that time. I do not believe I ever wrestled with you again.”

He laughed.

So did a crowd of his guests.

“Yes, well, Jasper,” Clarence said, puffing out his chest and speaking loudly enough for their audience to hear, “my father saw to it that I had the proper instruction in all the manly sports at a young age. You always thought to get your way with brute force, but brute force is never a match for practiced skill.”

“Alas, that is true,” Jasper said.

He had been about to take the boat out without first going back to the house to change out of his good clothes and to get permission, which would doubtless have been denied. He had been standing in the boat, about to sit down, his back to the bank. Clarence, standing solidly on the bank, had taken an oar and tipped him in.

“What other sports did you learn, Sir Clarence?” Hortense Dubois asked. “You must be very good indeed if you can defeat Lord Montford. He has a reputation for wi

“Well,” Clarence said, “I am handy enough with my fives, Miss Dubois. I have gone a few rounds with Gentleman Jackson himself.”

“With Gentleman Jackson,” a young man from the village said. “I have heard of him. He is said to be one of the best.”

“Not one of the best, young man,” Clarence said. “The very best.”

“Clarence is too modest, Miss Dubois,” Jasper said, “to tell you how good he is at fencing. I take it you are still as good at it as you used to be, Clarence?”

“Well-” Clarence said.