“You’re horrid.”
“You love it.”
“God help me,” she whimpered, as he tugged her out of the keep and onto the bailey green.
“Gather round,” Bram called as they came to stand in the center of the grassy expanse. “Miss Finch and I have some announcements to make.”
At his use of her proper name, Susanna exhaled with relief. She hoped Bram wouldn’t be so bold as to announce their tryst as a matter of public business . . . but after that narrow escape with Papa yesterday, she wasn’t sure she could put it past him.
All around the green, the ladies and men exchanged intrigued glances as they set aside their teacakes and lemonade to listen.
“As you all know,” Bram began, “I’ve given my word to Sir Lewis Finch, and by proxy, the Duke of Tunbridge, that Spindle Cove will present a field review. A precise, choreographed display of our military might and readiness on the date of the midsummer fair, scarcely more than a fortnight away.”
The men looked to one another.
Aaron Dawes shook his head. “Rather a daunting task, my lord.”
“A daunting task?” Fosbury said. “Try ‘hopeless.’ We can’t march in a straight line.”
“We don’t even have proper uniforms,” Keane added.
A murmur of general agreement rippled through the crowd.
“We’re not hopeless,” Bram said, in an authoritative voice that made everyone present snap to attention, Susanna included. “Nor even daunted. We have manpower. We have supplies. And we have a plan.” He waved to her. “Miss Finch will explain.”
Susanna held up the list in her gloved hand. “We’re all going to work together. The ladies and the men.”
“The ladies?” Mrs. Highwood exclaimed. “What place have ladies in planning a militia review?”
Susanna replied calmly, “In Spindle Cove, ladies can do anything. I know it’s outside the realm of our usual activities, but on this short notice, everyone must contribute according to his or her strongest talents. The men need our help, and we need the men to succeed. If the militia is found lacking, do you think the duke will leave the castle unprotected? No. He will surely send other troops to encamp here. And needless to say, if a company of strange soldiers encamp on these bluffs, Spindle Cove as we know it”—she turned her gaze from lady to lady—“as we love and need it, will cease to exist.”
Dismay rumbled through the group.
“She’s right, the village would be overrun.”
“We’d all have to go home.”
“And here we’ve just fixed up the tea shop.”
Charlotte leaped to her feet. “We can’t let it happen, Miss Finch!”
“It won’t happen, Charlotte. We just have to show the duke and a few visiting generals that Lord Rycliff’s militia is ready and able to defend Spindle Cove.”
Bram took over. “All volunteers will encamp here, at the castle. Your time and full efforts, sunup to sundown, will be required. We’ve worked out a schedule. Corporal Thorne will take charge of drilling you through the formations. Prepare to march your feet to stumps. The lines must be crisp; the formations, exact. Lord Payne”—he shot a look at his surprised cousin—“with his natural talent for explosions, will be in charge of artillery. As for firearms . . .” He motioned in Susanna’s direction. “Miss Finch will lead daily practice in marksmanship.”
A murmur of surprise swept the assembled ladies and men.
“What?” Mrs. Highwood cried. “A lady, teaching men to shoot?”
“Didn’t you know?” Bram asked, sliding her a knowing look. “She’s a thing of beauty with a gun.”
Fighting a blush, Susanna returned her attention to the list. “Miss Taylor will suspend her regular music lessons to give Finn and Rufus Bright intensive tutoring. Mrs. Montgomery and Mrs. Fosbury will jointly lead the uniforms committee. All available ladies will assist with the sewing in the evenings.” She lowered the paper. “It’s vital that the men look their polished and tailored best, to make a good impression.”
Bram added, “It’s also vital that the visitors be entertained. They’ll be guests at—”
“Summerfield,” Susanna finished, growing a touch excited despite herself. “We’ll be hosting an officers’ ball, to follow the field review.”
“A ball?” Mrs. Highwood said. “Oh, that is good news. At long last, my Diana will have her chance to shine. She’ll have recovered her health by then, don’t you think?”
“I’m certain of it.”
“And Lord Payne, you devil . . .” The matron’s face creased with a smile as she waved her handkerchief at Colin. “You must promise her a nice, slow quadrille this time. None of that wild country dancing.”
Colin bowed. “As you like, ma’am.”
Hoping to redirect the conversation, Susanna cleared her throat. “Now, for preparations. I will ask Miss Winterbottom and Mrs. Montgomery to assist with the menus. Sally Bright and Mr. Keane—you two possess the best eye for color, so decorations are yours. Miss Taylor is the natural choice for music, and Mr. Fosbury, I do hope you’ll bake us some cakes. Our chef at Summerfield can’t match your confections.” She smiled at him over the paper. “Now, Mrs. Lange—”
The woman in question sat tall. “You don’t have to ask. I’d be glad to compose a poem for the occasion.”
“That would be very . . .” Susanna paused. “Special,” she finished. “Thank you, Mrs. Lange.”
“What about me?” Charlotte waved her hand. “Everyone else has a task. I want one, too.”
She smiled. “I have a very important job for you, Charlotte. And I’ll explain it to you later, back at the rooming house.” She lowered the paper. “It goes without saying, our usual activity schedule is suspended.”
“We have a lot of work ahead of us,” Bram said. “And it starts this afternoon. Finish your refreshments. Pack away the blankets and canopies. Take the scarf off the sheep. All men should assemble for drill in a quarter hour’s time.”
“Ladies,” Susanna called out, before the entire group dispersed, “we will adjourn to the inn to begin cutting pieces for uniforms.”
As the men and women rose from their blankets and began to remove all evidence of merriment, she turned to Bram. “I think that went as well as could be expected.”