TITILLATING TUESDAY - A CLOUD OF HAWTHORNE

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The following day was quiet at the Hornbrook estate, save the household staff cleaning up after the ball. There had been a large crowd in attendance, which the family was pleased about, but that meant a good day’s work clearing the room of china, fine crystal, and stemware, the mess left behind by some of the younger people who had stayed on till well past midnight, drinking champagne and smoking out on the lawn. 

Dorrington left shortly after Wesley, Proberta, and Henley had moved to the drawing room, and took his tired aunt home. Wesley had shown outward disappointment when hearing that news, much to the surprise of the rest of the group, but no one paid much attention. Wesley, on the other hand, could not keep thoughts of this fine young gentleman at bay, concocting various schemes of how they could get together again, and sooner the better. He had no idea how long Dorrington planned on staying with his aunt, but Wesley felt sure they would have the opportunity to converse, or go out for a ride, preferably alone. Perhaps Dorrington could be convinced to stay on a few weeks longer than planned. 

Henley rose early, put on his flannel shirt, corduroy trousers, and Macintosh, slipped on his green Hunter boots, and headed out of doors for a walk. The morning air was cool and damp, the grounds covered in heavy dew. He took a deep breath and picked up his pace. He enjoyed being out in the early part of the day. It was peaceful, but also held a certain level of excitement, for he never knew what forest animal he might startle as he made his way farther from the protected grounds of the estate, and deeper into the woods. Dawn and dusk were known as the times when all natural creatures roamed their land freely. Birds chirped loudly, foliage crunched underfoot as deer, elk, rabbits, and fox, came out of hiding, fearless on their home turf, before the full light of day. 

TITILLATING TUESDAY - A CLOUD OF HAWTHORNE

CHAPTER EIGHT

Henley had not planned to head in the other direction the afternoon of the hunt. In fact, he looked forward to riding out with the rest of the group, and was happy to have his cousin, Wesley, along to ride with him. Although he and Wesley had entertained the idea of taking a slight turn off the beaten path so they could ‘accidentally’ find themselves at The Pig’s Prattle for a pint, they had finally decided against the idea, for Proberta’s sake. So Henley was quite surprise when his horse had spooked at a fallen tree beside the trail, and had taken off through the forest in a westerly direction. Henley, for his part, did not attempt to rein him in, which is how he eventually landed directly in front of Rosetta’s hut. 

When he arrived, she was nowhere to be found. Henley tethered Gaspar to a nearby fence rail beside a meadow rich with green alfalfa, where he was happy to graze to his heart’s content. Then he took off in search of Rosetta.

TITILLATING TUESDAY - A CLOUD OF HAWTHORNE

CHAPTER SEVEN

Edith Hornbrook dipped the dry biscuit in her tea and nibbled on the moistened end. A lovely assortment of smoked ham, eggs, scones with marmalade, fresh fruit, and local cheeses were spread across the linen tablecloth in front of her, but she wasn’t hungry. In fact, the sight of it made her stomach turn. On the other hand, Wesley’s appetite was heartier than ever. Taking a swallow of his milky tea, he consumed the last of his scone with marmalade and ham, then heaped another serving of everything onto his plate. Although not as gregarious an eater, Proberta, nonetheless, appeared ravenous. Edith couldn't avoid noticing how the two of them chatted breezily, stealing glances that seemed to show more than just a brother and sisterly affection. This perturbed her greatly. Meanwhile, Henley II had yet to make an appearance.

CLOUD OF HAWTHORNE

Chapter Five

Edith waited on the front porch of the mansion for the group of young people to make their way to the stables in preparation for the two o'clock hunt. Neighbors had gathered around the large red barn as Rodney and Sykes, the two stablehands, brushed and tacked the horses before guiding them out to their prospective riders.
Dressed in proper fox hunting attire; beige breeches, tweed jacket, tightly buttoned pastel shirt, brown leather gloves, and bowler helmet, Henley stood proudly beside Gaspar, his ten year old gelding. His brown field boots, already crusted in mud from trying to calm the horse, spoke volumes. Henley and Gaspar loved the hunt, and had since the time they were fourteen and three respectively, when they were both taken out for the first time. Young Henley had basically helped Sykes raise and train the colt, which was foal to one of his father's best brood mares. Henley remembered the difficulty he had convincing his father that he should have the horse. The horse, his father argued, was too small to race, his stance and coloring not good enough for breeding, but Henley was determined, and his father finally relented.
Next, Rodney brought out White Socks, a deep brown quarter horse with white hooves, who stood seventeen hands high. White Socks was determined as much as frisky, and was a favorite for Wesley when he came to visit. Becky, a gentle but eager filly, was presented for Proberta to ride.