In truth, she was thoroughly puzzled by her physical reaction to him. Why him? How could she be attuned to him in this way when she didn’t know him that well?
Then again, marriages were arranged between couples who knew each other less. The thought was a frightening one. Thank goodness her mother wouldn’t insist upon Harriet marrying anyone she didn’t want to.
She shivered at the memory of her mother and stepfather. Her mother had thought him a wonderful person. He’d made them both believe that until it was too late. The memory served as a reminder to be cautious. How did one truly know whether someone was to be trusted?
Then again, who would trust her if they knew the truth of her past?
“A penny for your thoughts.” The deep timbre of Viscount Garland’s voice brought another shiver.
She forced a smile. “An unpleasant memory.” With a stern reminder to better guard her thoughts as her stepfather had taken up too many of them already, she tried to relax. “How has your day been thus far?”
“Enjoyable.” He glanced at her then leaned closer. “Though I confess I’m not excited at the idea of playing charades.”
Harriet laughed even as his scent caught her notice—a mixture of bergamot and the forest. It made her knees weak, much to her dismay. “Nor am I,” she whispered in return. “I only hope I don’t have to go first.”
“Agreed. Do not worry. I will suggest that Martin does.”
She opened her mouth to reply only to see Frances out of the corner of her eye, watching them closely. “As long as he doesn’t insist that his sister follow him. She’s a little shy as you may have noticed.”
“Ah. Then we shall take care that she doesn’t have a turn until later.”
Harriet’s heart melted a little more. What a kind man he was.
“Everyone put their phrase in the basket,” Mrs. Melbourne called out. “Then we’ll stand in a circle to make teams.”
Within a few minutes, they’d divided into teams of four people each and sat in groups. Neither Frances nor Harriet was on the same team as the viscount or each other.
“Martin should go first,” Viscount Garland called out and laughter erupted when Frances’ brother protested.
“Martin, come and select your charade.” His mother’s tone brooked no argument.
With a beleaguered sigh, Martin did as she requested. His demeanor made it easy to picture him as a young boy being forced to do something he didn’t want to do.
He acted out someone playing cricket, which was quickly guessed. A female guest volunteered to go next, but no one was able to guess her actions of tending a garden.
Harriet worried something similar would happen to her. Despite her concern, the afternoon sped by quickly amidst much laughter. Everyone was nervous at first and while some had reason to be embarrassed given their ability—or lack thereof—to act out their charade, all seemed to enjoy the game. Viscount Garland helped to keep the guests in good humor, making amusing remarks in a droll tone.
Frances managed to do a wonderful job with her phrase of walking a dog. Harriet noted the admiration in Garland’s face but ignored the pang of envy she felt.
Soon the game ended, and everyone stood, most mentioning they intended to rest before dinner.
“That wasn’t as terrible as I thought,” Viscount Garland said to Harriet as they followed some of the others out of the room.
“Rather entertaining, wasn’t it?” Harriet smiled. “Be sure not to say that too loud, or we’ll be playing it again tomorrow afternoon.”
Garland laughed, bringing a flush of pleasure to Harriet. “Good point. You were very creative with your phrase. I knew it immediately.”
Her stomach felt as if it flipped over at his compliment. “Thank you.” Pretending to play croquet had been easy enough, but she was still flattered. “May I say the same for yours?”
“Climbing a tree was a bit of a challenge.” He laughed. “Some of the guesses made it clear I wasn’t portraying it well.”
The guests parted ways. Harriet wasn’t ready to hear what Frances had to say or to have to reassure her again and decided to go to her bedroom in hopes of avoiding a conversation.
Yet she realized as soon as she entered her room that she was too restless to lie down. A visit to the library was in order. Deciding she’d prefer to avoid any guests that were of the same mind, she made her way to the smaller library on the second floor which was more likely to be empty.
Relief filled her when she opened the door and found it so. She took her time selecting a book then settled into a chair by the window. She hadn’t been reading long when the door opened.
A mix of delight and trepidation rushed through her when Viscount Garland came into view. She felt guilty when she spoke with him, knowing Frances admired him.