My Lord and Lady Jevington with their eldest son, eldest daughter, and the latter's fiancé, arrived within ten minutes of Lady Buxted, her beloved son, and the sandy-haired Jane Buxted, who, like Chloe, had experienced a disappointing Season. Lady Buxted's natural inclination had been to refuse to attend her brother's wedding. She was nearly as horrified by the thought that her brother should connect himself to Frederica Merriville as by her fear that her own son might have formed such an attachment. But a sound lecture from her elder sister and knowledge of her own interests combined to force Lady Buxted to make the most of it.
Lord Buxted, who was really almost angry at his uncle for winning Frederica's hand and heart, had reconciled himself to the inevitable, and was prepared to be both dutiful and magnanimous. The other guests included the eldest Merriville brother, Lord Alverstoke's great friend Mr. Darcy Moreton, Lady Elizabeth Kentmere and her husband, and Lord and Lady Jersy. None of the Merrivilles had been able to convince their aunt, Miss Winsham, to attend. She was much occupied with her recently widowed sister, and while she grudgingly said that it was a lucky thing for Frederica to marry a Marquis, she saw no reason why she should bestir herself to attend a wedding when she had much more important matters to attend to.
Thus it happened that dinner was served to a collection of people who were, with very few exceptions, quite satisfied with the event that was to occur the next day. Though Lord Alverstoke had not been thrilled by the prospect of a dinner dominated by so many members of his own family, he was much amused by his sister Louisa's ill-concealed chagrin, his sister Elizabeth's real pleasure, but most of all by his sister Augusta's appearance of benevolent self-satisfaction.
Both Felix and Jessamy had been permitted to attend the dinner, but when the ladies had removed and Felix was, with a gleam in his eye, attempting to pour himself a glass of port, he received a withering stare from Alverstoke. Sighing, he passed the port to his brother and sat back in his chair with arms crossed, as one determined to find no entertainment in this gentlemanly ritual.
"If you are going to sulk, Felix, you had better go and join the ladies," said the marquis.
"I will go, then," said Felix, hopping up and quickly exiting the room. Nobody thought anymore about it, until the gentlemen joined the ladies and Mr. Trevor noticed that Felix was not present in the room. He made his way to Miss Dauntry, who was seated somewhat by herself near a window and asked her if she had seen Felix.
"No, he never came in," she said, smiling as he sat down beside her. "I daresay he thought listening to my cousin Jane at the pianoforte too great a trial to bear. No doubt he has gone off to work on this secret wedding present of his."
"Wedding present?" Charles asked in some surprise. "Is that what he claims to have been working on in that barn."
"Yes," she said. "And apparently he's going to present it this evening. I haven't the slightest idea what it is, only that he told me to sit near a window. And so here I am, though I do find it a bit drafty."
"Have you a shawl somewhere about that I may fetch for you?" he enquired politely, although his attention was clearly elsewhere as his brows drew together and he stared out the window.
"It's of no matter; what are you thinking?"
"Of what on earth Felix may have meant… I admit to a sense of foreboding. Jessamy!" he said to that young man, who was standing nearby, awkwardly attempting to decide whether or not he would be welcomed as an equal into the sporting conversation clearly being held by Harry Merriville and Gregory Sandridge. Jessamy started and turned towards Mr. Trevor.
"Have you any notion what Felix was working on in his laboratory? Anything involving explosives, for example?"
"He had set fire to something the one time I visited," Jessamy admitted. "But Miss Leighton was determined to get rid of me before I could enquire further."
"The windows face that low ridge, and the barn is behind…" muttered Charles, half to himself, "and fire… possibly gunpowder?"
"Now that you mention it, I did smell something that might have been gunpowder," said Jessamy, a look of alarm spreading over his features.
"Fireworks," said Charles and Chloe at the same time. All three looked at each other, then out the window.
"Good God," said Jessamy at last, and he turned as if to rush toward Alverstoke. Charles grabbed his arm and prevented him.
"Wait, Jessamy, let's not cause a panic," he said. "We can manage this ourselves. We'll leave quietly, and just tell the Marquis we think Felix may have got into a scrape but that we're off to find him. We may reach the barn before they set the things off."
"They? Do you think your niece is there too?" asked Chloe, eyes wide.
"I have no doubt of it, she wouldn't miss it for worlds. We'll be off, Miss Dauntry."
"No, wait, I'm coming with you," she said firmly. "If there has been an accident, another female should be there with Miss Leighton. Don't look at me like that, just go, and I'll slip out a minute after and say something about going to fetch my shawl. Nobody will notice."
Charles wished to remonstrate, but there was no time. He told Jessamy to go ahead, nodded at Chloe, then went to whisper a word in the Marquis' ear.
"What mischief is Felix up to, Charles?" asked Alverstoke suspiciously.
"Nothing to worry about, my lord," said Mr. Trevor promptly. "Jessamy and I shall manage it while you see to your guests."
"Very well, but tell him if he's put his life in danger I'll put it in even more danger. You are a prince of secretaries, Charles, and I shall hate to lose you to politics someday."
Charles smiled and left the room. Walking briskly out of the house, he broke into a run as soon as he left the building. Jessamy was already far ahead of him, and he was only halfway to the barn when he heard a loud whistle and snap, followed by a bang and a burst of sparks in the night sky. He stopped and watched the yellow-white flames spread and fall while he caught his breath.
"It's lovely, isn't it?" said a voice behind him. Chloe was there, her cheeks flushed and her hair decidedly askew. She must have been running at quite a pace to have caught up with him so quickly.
"Lovely," he echoed, looking at her as a second burst rent the air. Recalling his attention to the matter at hand, he impulsively grabbed her hand and pulled her along as they sprinted to the barn.
They were met by an interesting scene unfolding outside the barn door. Jessamy was ineffectually remonstrating with Felix and Cassandra as they set up the third of their fireworks. He would have under any circumstances tackled Felix to the ground, but with all the gunpowder about, he was checking his impulses.
"Pooh, the first two went off without a hitch, and we made them all the same way, so why should there be any danger?" Felix was arguing, and then he lit the third.
But there was a fault with this one. Instead of rising into the air, it exploded on the ground, sending sparks and flames everywhere. Felix's coatsleeve and the hem of Cassandra's dress caught fire. Jessamy yelled at Felix to remove his coat as pushed Cassandra to the ground and used his own coat to slap out the flames. Charles quickly moved to help Felix remove his coat and Chloe, spying the nearby pump, quickly filled a bucket with water and sped to pour it over the still sparkling dysfunctional firework. She ran back and forth to the pump until all the flames were thoroughly doused, and at last all five persons, in various states of disarray, were sitting panting on the ground.
Jessamy was the first to speak. "Felix, I'm going to wring your neck!"
"No, you're not, that pleasure is to be mine," said Charles.
"Is anyone hurt?" asked Chloe with a shiver. Water had splashed out of the bucket and onto her gown several times, and she never had fetched that shawl. She looked at Cassandra's charred hem and moved over to where she sat. There was indeed a considerable patch of burned skin on the young lady's right ankle and Chloe told Jessamy to fetch another bucket of water so she might clean the wound.
"I think I've burned my fingertips," announced Felix, regarding his digits with concentration. "My right hand, too! I won't be able to do my studies for weeks!" He made this last pronouncement with ill-hidden satisfaction.
Charles looked carefully at the fingers in question, removed his neckcloth and went to soak it in the bucket of water at Chloe's side. As he wrapped it around Felix's hand, he told him he'd be fortunate to see a few blisters at the most.
"There's nothing wrong with you that a bath won't cure," he added. "Come, you clean up this mess and don't even think about lighting another fuse! Jessamy, you stay behind and make sure he does as he's told, then convey him back to the house and straight to his bedchamber. I will escort the ladies back to the house and send for Cassandra's mother."
"I think she may need a doctor," said Chloe, as she wound Jessamy's neckcloth around the burned area and stood up. "The burn is quite deep."
Before gathering up his niece, Charles removed his coat (the only coat now left unsinged) and arranged it around Chloe's shoulders. Chloe gratefully pulled it closely around her, and Cassandra cheerfully told Felix that the first two explosions had been perfect and were well worth any minor injury.