“And you’re capable of it,” he said, with a laugh. “Well, I’ll tell you this, Fan. You’re nothing short of a goose, but if I get what I want, you shall have what you want. There?” She shook her head dubiously.
“If you don’t?”
“I am serious this time, and I mean to. Help me, and the better for you.” He was gone.
“And for Millie,” Lady Fanny reflected with a sigh. She had read danger in Anne’s manoeuvre of the night before. And she already knew enough of the world to gauge pretty accurately the power of Anne’s charm. Spirits bubbled too persistently with her to be checked, and she had nothing to cause her serious uneasiness as to her choice of John Elliot, but she wanted every one dear to her to be happy, to which end it appeared that Anne’s marriage with Lord Milborough would most effectually minister. Her present task was to induce Anne to go out with the luncheon for the shooters.
“Bring as many as you can,” had been her brother’s directions, so unwonted, that she perceived he feared too general a buzzing round Anne. She went in search of her aunt, Mrs Harcourt, Irish, impracticable, and witty; but she would have none of it, and shivered at the very idea of the neighbourhood of wet turnips.
“As if you were afraid of turnips, Aunt Kathleen!”
“English ones, my dear, and chilly. Take that Mrs Martyn.”
“You don’t like her?”
“No better than the turnips, and for the same reason.”
Others were not so impracticable, Lady Dalrymple agreeing with alacrity, Anne too; in all, six or eight met in the hall when the time for starting came. A pony had gone on with the provisions, and when they reached the spot, the gentlemen were there, and luncheon spread. The neighbourhood of a wood-shed had been chosen; faggots and logs formed seats, servants were on the watch to anticipate every want. Lord Milborough fastened on the place next Anne, Wareham sat where he could see her. He noticed that she was silent, though smiling. What he failed to see was the quiet ingenuity with which she baffled Lord Milborough’s attempts to draw her away from the others when the luncheon was over. She was assured that the finest view in the county lay within twenty yards of where they were standing, a whispered entreaty implored her to let him show it to her. Anne refused, laughing.