Page 43 of To Follow her Heart

“No, no, I’m sorry Miss Connolly. That simply won’t do. I refuse to be beaten by a lot of girls.”

“I’m on your team, Jerry,” Harriet remarked dryly as Jerome sent her an impatient glance.

“That’s entirely beside the point and you know it,” he retorted, and took aim once more.

The arrow went sailing towards the target and, whilst not a bullseye, was only a couple of inches to the right of it.

“Hmph,” Jerome said, still disgruntled. “Better, I suppose.”

“Well, we are here to practise,” Kitty said, grinning as Luke and Jasper arrived together. She felt her heart leap at the sight of Luke, his red hair glinting in the sun. How handsome he was. That he would be her husband in a matter of days made a strange and giddy feeling bubble up inside her like champagne. It wanted to overflow, to burst from her in a wild gale of laughter but she couldn’t allow it, too aware that they must not draw attention to themselves.

Luke caught her eye and smiled; a smile that made her heart do a foolish little dance in her chest before he looked away. Not long, not long, it said, jolting around like a mad rabbit, not long and he’s all yours.

Kitty turned away and did her best to stop the daft expression that threatened to break out and turn her into a lovesick girl for all to see.

The practising went on for another hour, until Lady St Clair called a halt and said the competition proper would start after a short break. Whilst they’d been busy practising, the servants had been occupied in setting up a seating area in the shade of an ancient oak tree for those who were waiting to play and those who chose to watch the competition in comfort.

A table had been set up with refreshments too and everyone adjourned for a glass of lemonade before the contest began.

Harriet had sat on the grass beneath a beech tree some distance from the others and appeared to have her nose buried in a book. Luke caught Kitty’s eye as she observed this, and jerked his head.

Kitty snorted and made her way to sit beside Harriet, taking her a glass of lemonade.

“What are you reading?” she asked, eyeing the tome in Harriet’s lap with trepidation.

“Plato,” she said, without looking up.

“Oh,” Kitty replied, impressed. She handed Harriet the glass of lemonade and sipped at her own.

“The Republic,” Harriet added, turning to look at Kitty, her eyes large and owlish behind her spectacles. “I’m reading The Allegory of the Cave at the moment. Do you know it?”

Kitty shook her head.

“Is that why you don’t get on with St Clair?” Kitty said, returning to their previous conversation. Time was short, and she’d best try to get to the point.

Harriet blinked at her in obvious surprise. “Because everyone can only see his shadow?” she asked, looking profoundly interested.

“What?” Kitty said, bewildered. “No, because he tormented you when you were children.”

“Oh,” Harriet said with a disappointed sigh, setting the book aside. “No, of course not. He was a boy, boys are obnoxious. They can’t help it; it’s their raison d’être.”

“So, what did he do?”

Harriet sighed and cut her a look. “Why are you all so interested?” she demanded. “Not everyone has to like each other, you know. St Clair and I are very different people. He’s chalk, meet cheese,” she said, gesturing to herself. “It’s really very simple.”

Kitty stared at her and Harriet held her gaze for a long moment until she blushed and looked away.

“It isn’t simple at all, though. Is it, Harry?”

Harriet huffed out a breath and began plucking at the grass, tearing it up by the roots.

“He’s… all on the surface. Shallow,” she said, frowning down at the little pile of grass she’d made. “I thought for a while it wasn’t the case, that there was a more serious man there, one who felt things deeply, one who cared… but he doesn’t care at all—about anything much. Oh, superficially he does, but you don’t have to scratch very deep to discover there’s nothing beneath the veneer. We see the shadow he casts, not the reality of who he is.”

Kitty tried to reconcile her words with what she’d seen of St Clair.

“That’s not the man I’ve come to know, nor does it match everything Luke has told me. He’s done so much for me, for both of us. He didn’t need to involve himself in our little drama, but he did. He seems pretty solid to me, not shallow, not shadowy.”

Harriet’s face darkened, and she shrugged. “I never said he was a bad man, Kitty. He’s more than capable of being kind and thoughtful, but that’s the danger, don’t you see? He does these things and you think it means something… but it doesn’t. Not really. Not like it did to… to whoever he’s been kind to. He’ll drop you the next moment and not even realise he’s done it.”