Page 2 of Hot and Bothered in July
“Exactly the point of this excursion,” Sariah said with a firm tone. “Our parents have done their duty, but I feel it is our responsibility as adult women to forge our own path, and this is the first step to proving our independence.” She adopted a proud pose. “Just as some of our English ancestors broke away from the Crown and gained their own government in the American Colonies, we too, shall be just as victorious.”
Her companions giggled. “It is fitting that it is their claim of independence today,” Ava murmured.
“I heard that another star was going to be added to their flag to represent the State of Missouri, another conquest in their deliberation to mark the country as their own,” Maggie added. “At least we can be thankful the whaling industry is currently monopolizing much of Parliament’s time and keeping the House of Lords occupied with matters of state, giving us this rare opportunity to be left to our own devices. Father often speaks of changes to ships and regulations, which must be discussed at length, of course.”
“Of course,” Ava echoed, giving a roll of her eyes. “If it were me, I would give all the authority to the British Southern Whale Fishery and let them make any necessary decisions with design and future implementations, but there has to be someone who makes the rules on their behalf because they believe it benefits the good of the Crown, while I feel it is just something else to discuss over tea.”
Sariah snorted. “No, that is what our mothers do. Our fathers are too busy congratulating themselves on their brilliance of mind.” As the carriage began to slow, she glanced out the window. “Oh, it’s even more magical than I could have imagined.”
“The row of trees is stunning!” Ava breathed.
“Let’s hope the gentlemen are equally enthralling,” Maggie drawled.
As the coach slowed and they all stepped to the ground a short distance from the main activity, Maggie turned to their driver and pressed a coin into his gloved palm. “We shall not need your services for the afternoon. Enjoy an ice at Gunther’s and return in two hours to retrieve us.” She glanced toward the splashing pool, surrounded by stone columns and must have found something that piqued her interest because she amended with a murmur. “Make it three hours.”
Sariah offered a grand smile. “Shall we enjoy the day, ladies?”
Four men lounged on the slight hill near the shaded copse of trees barring the Peerless Pond from the rest of London. Reed Carrington reclined on his side, an elbow propping him up. Jackson sat beside him while James and Henry were lying flat on their backs, one pretending to doze in the midday sun with his hands beneath his head, while the other tossed a ball of twine in the air and caught in on the descent.
After spending a few hours in the pleasure bath beyond their grassy overlook, they had decided to enjoy the scenery. Experience had taught them that as the day wore on, more women were wont to dare to escape the sultry, summer heat and dip a foot in the natural spring. There were times when the small group decided to do some fishing on the other side of the embankment that had been carved out for just that purpose, but today, lazy observation had won out over any such sport.
“I wonder if there will be any new visitors to the pool today,” Henry remarked as he caught his makeshift toy.
“Highly unlikely,” Jackson said in a bored tone, choosing to pull apart leaves of grass. “But one can only hope. I grow weary of the same tiresome ladies. I use that word lightly, of course.”
Reed gave a derisive snort. “What would you prefer? An innocent debutante for you to debauch? Really, Jackson, your tastes haven’t changed in the least over the years.”
“I have risen above the rakish circumstances of my youth,” he retorted firmly. “Do you find it so difficult to believe that I am tired of spending my nights at a gaming hell and would prefer to find love?”
Both Reed and Henry looked at him askance, but it was Reed who spoke. “Have you lost your senses? What sort of romantic drivel are you spouting? Love is reserved for poets and the theatre. It is in rare supply for the masses, especially those of our particular ilk.”
“Desperate for alms, you mean?” Jackson snapped. “Why don’t you just say what you mean, Reed? We are orphaned bluecoats that have nothing to recommend us.”
“That is not entirely true,” Henry said with a lifted hand. “We have our own shipyard which makes a rather secure living.”
“That may be,” Jackson reluctantly agreed, then added, “But we shall never escape our previous circumstances. Besides, do you not understand by now that working for a wage is frowned upon in English society?”
“Hang polite society rules,” Reed muttered. “There is entirely too much focus presented on men of leisure when it is the sweat off of our brows that drives this country to its fullest extent. They just refuse to acknowledge our efforts.”
His companions uttered their agreement, but Reed was already discounting the conversation when Henry brought up another worthless point. Let them fight amongst themselves over a topic that Reed had already dismissed. The truth was that it didn’t matter how much they wanted to rationalize their importance in society, it would never truly be recognized by those in power. Reed was perfectly fine with that. In truth, he’d considered leaving his home country behind and moving across the ocean to explore the Colonies at length. Although he supposed the Americas had not been called that in some time.
The war for independence had been over for nearly fifty years. Most of the tensions had finally subsided, while those in England were eager to make a deal with the new country if it might benefit the Crown in some way. They had resources whichthey discovered could be of good use and thus, the betrayal had eventually been forgiven for trade purposes.
Reed had never cared much for the political aspect. He only wanted to find a way to secure his future with a past that had been littered with turmoil and strife. He was sick of the workhouse and the stigma that came with living on Little Chapel Street at the Blewcoat School in Westminster. He was through being looked upon as a charity case. It was one of the reasons he’d worked so hard to better his circumstances. It had taken some time, however. He had been something of a scoundrel in his younger days, causing havoc wherever he went, nearly being expelled from the Blewcoat School more than once.
He despised feeling the enclosure containing him and vowed that he would discover the freedom that had always been denied him. Ever since he was a boy in that dreaded uniform that flashed to everyone that he was someone of limited circumstance, he’d fought at the bit to drag himself out of the mire. Fortune had finally intervened when he’d become friends with these three men. They all had a similar, rakish nature, but more importantly they had a specific drive that overrode all else. Together they had embarked on a quest to rule the world.
They hadn’t accomplished that goal quite yet, but they were well on their way, as the coins in his purse would attest.
One of Reed’s heroes had always been John “Mad Jack” Mytton, a squire from Shropshire who was known for his extravagant lifestyle, the sort of man who would do anything so long as it amused him. He had a very eccentric nature, and Reed and his fellow cohorts had spent some time at his estate, Halston Hall after a brief interaction in London.
It was due to John’s instruction that Reed discovered much about life and finance, and how to not become such a spendthrift. Most importantly, he discovered that life was tooshort to be taken so seriously. It was meant to be lived to the fullest.
Ironically, his mentor was now serving as a High Sheriff after having spent some time fighting in the war, a position that Reed never imagined John would enjoy.
“I say, what do we have here? Three pigeons ripe for the plucking.”
Reed glanced at Jackson, and then Henry, who had risen from his reclined position. Even James decided to crack an eyelid and lift his head at the announcement.
