Remember Love (Ravenswood #1)(3)



However, the family did share even the house and its immediate environs on numerous occasions, some of them annual events. There was always a party for the children of the neighborhood on the afternoon of Christmas Eve, for example, and a supper and ball for the adults on Boxing Day. There was a picnic by the lake following a wildly popular treasure hunt on Valentine’s Day, weather permitting. The weather did not always permit in the middle of February, of course, but even when it did not the festivities were not canceled. Rather, they were moved indoors, where all four wings of the hall were called into use for the treasure hunt, and everyone was herded into a couple of adjoining reception rooms in the west wing afterward for tea.

Village assemblies were often held in the ballroom, since the assembly rooms above the village inn could become so crowded when everyone attended—as everyone often did—that it was virtually impossible to dance. School events such as plays and achievement days were frequently held at the hall, since the schoolroom was not large enough to accommodate unlimited numbers of parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins in any great comfort.

The event that was always most eagerly anticipated each year, however, was the grand fete that was held on the last Saturday of July. It was a daylong affair. It began in the middle of the morning with a prayer by the vicar, songs by the young people’s choir, and dances about the maypole performed by a group of young persons who gathered together once a fortnight all year long to learn new formations and to practice the steps. The maypole was always hoisted for the occasion on the lake side of the front lawn.

The opening ceremonies were followed by an outdoor luncheon and an afternoon of activities for everyone. There were contests for people of all ages and interests, from lace making for the women to log splitting for the men to races for the children, to name but a few. There were stalls at which one could spend one’s hard-earned money upon garish frivolities and sweetmeats, or on a faint chance to win a prize by hurling balls or darts at supposedly fixed objects, which had an annoying habit of moving or bending as soon as they were touched. There were always a fortune-teller, a portrait painter, and one or two new attractions each year. Last year there had been a juggler, who had not dropped any of his colored batons or whirling plates or flaming torches even once. There was the presentation of prize ribbons to the winners by the countess and a hearty shake of the hand by the earl. And then there was the lavish picnic meal by the lake while an orchestra played spirited tunes from the island pavilion and everyone declared they were still full from luncheon—and then devoured everything in sight because anything made by the Ravenswood cook really was too delicious to be resisted.

And that was not even the end of the day’s festivities.

After eating their fill, those who lived close by dashed home to wash and change into evening finery, while those who did not retired to guest chambers assigned to them in order for them to get ready for the evening ball and—yes—a late supper. Those who had young children and no one at home to look after them were not doomed to miss all the fun. Nurses and maids who had volunteered for the task—and a generous monetary reward for their services—looked after the children in the nursery and put the babies and infants to sleep, sometimes two or even three to a bed or cot, while their parents frolicked.

Eager anticipation of the fete always grew for weeks beforehand. Many kept an anxious eye upon the western sky for days in advance, as though it were possible to will the arrival of good weather for the occasion. And perhaps it was possible, for almost no one could remember a time when the whole thing had been washed out by rain—a remarkable record when one considered the notorious unpredictability of English summers.



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    The anticipation had begun this year. The Countess of Stratton, who was always exclusively in charge of the fete, was already busy planning it with her large staff of helpers—which included her children but not her husband. The Earl of Stratton generally stayed well out of his wife’s way, since the organizing of social events was a woman’s work—or so she reminded him whenever he did interfere. For instance, this year he had suggested impulsively to some of his neighbors at the village tavern one evening that they introduce something new to the fete in the form of a few boxing matches for the men to watch and even compete in.

Although his suggestion had been loudly cheered and toasted with mugs of ale, the countess was not at all enthusiastic about it when her husband arrived home and broached the subject with her. She vetoed the idea without any discussion. There would almost certainly be blood, she pointed out to him, and that was not something anyone would want to cope with on a fete day. Besides, a boxing contest would draw away all the men and leave all the women to entertain themselves and their children.

The women would not be amused.

“Really, Caleb,” she said, shaking her head, though she smiled at his exaggeratedly chastened expression. “Please leave everything concerning the fete to me.”

Which he did happily enough, though there were going to be a few disappointed men in and about the village. He could watch boxing matches to his heart’s content throughout the spring months each year, of course. Many of the other men could not.

The Earl of Stratton went to London each spring for the parliamentary session—something that coincided with the social Season, for which large segments of the ton flocked to town to mingle with their peers and enjoy themselves for the few months following Easter with a frenzy of parties and balls, routs and concerts and soirees, and too many other social entertainments to name. The countess was not often of their number. She preferred to remain at Ravenswood with her children and neighbors and friends except for one or two brief dashes up to town to attend some special event that had arisen and to look in upon all the shops on Bond Street and Oxford Street to view the newest fashions while her husband was in attendance at the House of Lords.

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