by Leenie Brown
“That does not seem to be the same.”
Evelyn shrugged again. “Perhaps it is not precisely the same, but some gentlemen prefer to make bargains rather than cast their help about in a charitable fashion.”
Constance frowned. She was not positive Evelyn was correct, but she could not, with any certainty, refute the argument either. So, she let it stand.
“Do you wish to walk in the garden?” Evelyn asked. “I think some fresh air might be just the thing for the headache I am planning to develop.”
Constance enjoyed it when her friend got that mischievous glint in her eyes as she had now. Evelyn might be all that was proper and demure when she was supposed to be, but Constance knew that behind her friend’s mannerly exterior lay a heart which craved the occasional adventure.
“I would not wish to be the cause of your discomfort,” Constance replied. “But do you suppose your mother and my aunt will allow us to walk unattended?”
A scowl touched Evelyn’s lips. “Would your brother go with us?”
“Trefor?” Constance squeaked.
“He would be less of a hindrance than my mother,” Evelyn said quietly. “He would walk quietly and not suggest at which gentlemen I should or should not smile.”
Constance could understand how her friend felt. Her aunt was little better. To Mrs. Barrett and Aunt Gwladys, the season seemed to be a great, fun game of strategy. For those, such as herself and Evelyn, who were the game pieces, it was far less exciting.
“Very well,” Constance agreed. “But Trefor must not know that I spoke to Mr. Edwards or about how I feel about Mr. Crawford.”
Evelyn squeezed her friend’s arm tightly. “You truly love him?”
“I do.” Constance shrugged. “I did not mean to love him, but I do. He is not the sort of gentleman for whom I wished. His reputation is not so sparkling as I would like, and although I believe him capable of being faithful, I will not lie and say I have not questioned his ability to remain so. Yet, I love him.” She turned questioning eyes to Evelyn. “Am I wrong to wish to marry him?”
Evelyn shook her head. “No. My mother was just yesterday commenting on how improved he was. She even said she would not be opposed to having him call on me ─ although she already knows I am not the sort of lady he would prefer since he said so when we met him at your house. ” Evelyn leaned a little closer to Constance and spoke even more quietly as they made their way through the people standing on the edges of the ballroom. “And, you said he has refused his sister’s offers of whatever many times, did you not? I think that in and of itself proves he is a different person if his sister fears he has become properly dull. Do you not agree?”
Constance could not argue that point.
“And you believe him capable of being all he should be, do you not?” Evelyn continued.
“I do. With my whole heart, I do.”
“Then you are not wrong to wish as you do,” she whispered softly as they were nearly next to Constance’s brother. “Mr. Linton,” she said raising her voice, “I feel a bit of a headache starting and would very much like to take some air. Would you be so kind as to accompany your sister and me on a short walk? I should hate to take my mother away from your aunt.”
He looked to his aunt. “Would that be acceptable? I do not wish to take your charge away from you when there are all those gentlemen with whom she has not yet danced.”
Constance nearly laughed at the scowl on her aunt’s face. Her brother was not the most patient sort of person when it came to listening to his aunt and her friend discuss matchmaking as it often led to recommendations about his own need of a bride. And from her aunt’s reply, she guessed that the conversation had taken such a turn.
“I am more worried about it taking you away from your duty to find a wife,” his aunt muttered.
“There might be a lovely lady in the garden,” he returned. “One that likes dancing as much as I do,” he added sardonically.
Constance chuckled. Her brother did not truly mind dancing. He just disliked being required to dance with this or that lady since she would, in his aunt’s opinion, make a wonderful Mrs. Linton.
“If a lady is hiding in the garden…”
“May I go for a walk?” Constance interrupted before her aunt could begin a lecture on what constituted a proper lady. “Please?”
“Very well, but do not be gone long. Gentlemen who are hiding in the garden are not the sort of men that make good husbands.” She gave a pointed look to Linton. “Those of any worth are in the ballroom.”
“Or at home,” Linton muttered as he led his sister and Evelyn toward the terrace door. “I love her, but I truly wish she would let me be. I can find my own wife.”
“And I can find my own husband,” said Constance.
“As can I,” agreed Evelyn.
“As long as you find him this season, my dear sister, for you know her plans if you do not,” Linton warned as they stepped out into the night.
~*~*~
Edwards strolled the paths of the garden seeking his quarry. How he had allowed himself to be talked into saving a friend from the clutches of a willing woman, he would never know. It was not as if he was the charitable sort. He smiled. There. Leaning against a tree in the shadows. It was not a lady in a blue dress, but it was the friend he needed to save. This mission should be over quickly. Then, he could be on his way back inside where he was certain a game of cards and some poor chap’s money were awaiting him.
“Crawford,” he called as he drew closer. “Are you alone?”
“As you can see,” Henry returned.
“Did you come out here with your sister?” Edwards took up a piece of tree trunk next to his friend and affected the same easy pose Henry wore.
“I came out here to avoid her,” Henry replied. “She has been at my heels all night.” He turned toward Edwards. “Why? Are you looking for her?”
Edwards shook his head. “No, I was looking for you and some lady in blue.”
“I beg your pardon?”
Edwards shrugged. “Linton’s sister and her friend Miss Barrett cornered me and persuaded me to help them find you and save you from having your reputation ruined by some lady in blue. Apparently, neither lady was concerned with my reputation being ruined.” He wore a wide grin.
There were several questions that Edwards’s explanation raised in Henry’s mind. But the most pressing one was —
“How, precisely, did they persuade you?” The question rumbled from Henry, for he knew that his friend was not known for bestowing favours without expecting one in return.
Edwards chuckled. “You nearly growled that as well as Linton would. I do believe you have left me to be the only disreputable one among our group.”
“How?” Henry rumbled again.
Edwards shrugged. “Miss Linton asked, and I obliged.”
“Just like that?”
Edwards blew out a breath. He had surprised himself with how easily he had capitulated to her request. He had thought to demand at least a kiss for his service ─ not from Linton’s sister ─ he did not have a death wish ─ but from her friend. He smiled at the thought of those perfectly pink lips. Those were lips he wished to taste at some point. “I made her introduce her friend.”
“Miss Barrett? Did you not already know her?”
“I did. Although when they entered the alcove, I did not recognize her at first and then when Miss Linton refused to introduce her, I felt compelled to make her give the introduction.”
“You were in an alcove with Miss Barrett and Miss Linton?”
Edwards nodded. “The one just down from the ladies’ retiring room. The one where Miss Linton told me to meet her.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, begin at the beginning and tell me how you came to be here,” Henry growled. Why would Constance be asking Edwards to meet her in an alcove!
“Do you like her?”
“Do I like whom?”
“Linton’s sister.”
“
Yes. Now, tell me how you came to be here.”
“Yes?” The question was accompanied by a short, surprised burst of laughter.
“Yes,” Henry repeated. “I love her.”
Again, Edwards laughed. “Does Linton know?”
“No, and you are not to tell either him or her.”
Edwards smiled broadly. “You have not told Miss Linton you love her?”
Henry shook his head.
“Well, it should come as some relief to you then that I suspect your feelings are returned. Oh, ho! Linton is going to be beside himself when he finds out.”
“But he will not find out from you.” Henry pushed off from the tree and faced his friend. “I will tell him ─ not yet, but soon.” After he had completed his list by calling on Miss Bellamy tomorrow. “Now, explain to me how you came to be here.”
Edwards shook his head and chuckled for a moment longer before he began his explanation starting with Constance’s plea during the dance and ending with his strolling the garden looking for a lady in a blue dress with blonde hair and a turban that was adorned with a large sparkly bobble of some sort.
Henry scowled. “You are telling me that my sister was planning to help begin a scandal, so that I would not be able to find a respectable wife?” He knew his sister was unhappy about his change in behavior, but to keep him from finding the happiness he sought? How could she do such a thing?
“So it seems,” Edwards replied. “And your Miss Linton believes you capable of being…” his voice trailed off as he studied his friend. He shook his head. “She believes you to be capable of being exactly what you have become.” He shook his head again. “Respectable. I admit I had not thought it entirely possible, but here you stand, indignant at a plan for a good lark.” He held up his hand as Henry opened his mouth to protest. “A year ago, we would have had a good laugh over such an escapade. Now, you look as if you are about to set off on a quest to tear a beast apart with your bare hands.” He shook his head again. “Respectable,” he muttered in disbelief as he pushed off the tree. “I have warned you as I said I would. You will let Miss Linton and her friend know I kept my word, will you not?”
“I will,” Henry replied.
“And it would be best if you did not remain in the garden where that lady in blue might find you after I am gone. Miss Linton would be greatly displeased if that were to happen.” And if Miss Linton was displeased, Miss Barrett would also be displeased. They seemed the inseparable sort. He stopped and turned toward Henry. “Perhaps you should walk with me. Then, I can heroically throw myself on any lady who attempts to accost you.”
Henry rolled his eyes. However, deciding it was a wise idea not to be left alone in a place where a compromise could be staged, he joined his friend. Much to Henry’s surprise, Edwards did not head directly back to the house as expected. Instead, he led Henry on a circuit of one of the paths and spoke of trivial matters.
“Crawford, Edwards.”
The two gentlemen stopped walking and turned toward the path that connected to the one on which they were strolling.
“Linton,” Edwards replied. “Ladies,” he added with a bow.
“You are walking alone?” Linton asked Edwards with a raised brow. “With Crawford?”
Edwards made a sweeping motion. “As you can see.” Then he shrugged. “I grew weary of the ballroom and wished for a respite. On my circuit, I discovered Crawford with much the same wish.”
“Then, you were not walking with any lady?” Constance grimaced slightly as her brother said her name in a scolding tone. “Forgive me, but I just thought you might be strolling with a lady.”
Edwards smiled. The chit was indeed intelligent as she had said. Speaking of their agreement in front of her brother in such a fashion that her brother had no clue. He shook his head. “Sadly, I have not encountered a single lady on my circuit until I met you and Miss Barrett just now.”
“Not a one?” Constance asked.
“Not a one,” Edwards repeated.
“And did you meet any ladies on your walk, Mr. Crawford?”
Constance sent her friend a grateful smile. She had wanted to ask that very thing but dared not.
“No, not even my sister. And I know how she likes to steal away to a garden once the ballroom gets warm.” He shifted his gaze from Miss Barrett to Constance. Her pleased smile made his heart skitter. “I have nearly completed my list.”
“Ah, the list,” Linton said. “It was an excellent list. But then, Constance is incapable of producing shoddy work.” He beamed proudly at his sister.
“Have you had any success?” he asked, turning to Henry. “Come, we will walk with you.”
Henry wished that Constance was not already walking arm in arm with her friend, so that she could have been at his side. It had been so long since he had seen her or spoken to her. How he wished for everyone ─ especially, her brother ─ to disappear and leave him alone with her for a few moments. He did not want to tell her brother about his success or lack thereof. He wished only to tell her. However, that was not likely to happen. “I have learned much. However, I have not found what I am looking for on the list.”
“You have not?”
Henry tipped his head. Was there a hopeful tone to Constance’s voice? Or was he merely hearing what he wished to hear? “I am afraid I have not.”
“That is unfortunate,” Linton said.
Henry shook his head. “No, it is not, for it has helped me know precisely what I wish for in a wife.”
“Do you have someone in mind?” Edwards asked, intently studying the nearly non-existent stars in the cloudy sky and avoiding looking at Henry, who was glaring at him.
Constance glanced over her shoulder toward Henry. Had he found someone? Her heart thumped a heavy beat in her chest.
Catching her eye, he winked and smiled. “Since I have not had a chance to speak to the lady or her brother, I shall refrain from answering.”
“That seems to be a confirmation,” said Linton.
Henry shrugged. “Perhaps it is.”
Constance’s brows furrowed.
Henry glanced at his companions and then certain that neither would notice, silently formed the word “you.”
Her? He wished to marry her? Constance’s eyes grew wide, and her mouth dropped open for a moment, then slid into a pleased smile before she turned back around. She squeezed Evelyn’s arm. Oh, this was very good news. He loved her and not another.
“When do you plan to speak to the lady?” Edwards was smirking as he continued his appraisal of the night sky.
“I must complete my list first,” Henry replied. “So, the day after tomorrow.”
“Well, I shall wish you happy now, my friend,” Edwards said as they approached the house. “Better you than I,” he bowed and then, taking his leave of the group, slipped through the terrace door ahead of them.
Chapter 10
For the first morning in two weeks, Constance entered the breakfast room ready to eat a healthy dose of food. Her stomach rumbled in anticipation as she slathered a piece of fresh brown bread with sweet cream. She took a bite and savoured the flavour as she poured a cup of tea. She lifted the cup and drew a deep breath, sucking in the aroma of the tea. She felt rested and hungry and perfect.
One more day and Henry would return to her. She smiled and took a sip of her tea. He loved her. He had said so last night in the garden. She no longer needed to worry about him falling for a lady she had set in his path.
She lifted her cheek to receive a kiss from her brother as he entered.
He placed his paper next to his plate. “You are looking well this morning.”
“I am feeling well,” Constance replied. “It was a lovely ball, was it not?”
Linton’s brows furrowed as he took a slow sip of his tea. “You do not like balls.”
“True, on most occasions I do not, but last night’s was rather wonderful. The way the decor twinkled in the candlelight was rather remarkable. I would imagine Mrs
. Belmont had the servants polishing things for weeks before hand.”
Her brother took another slow sip of his tea as he studied her. “The decor was remarkable?”
She nodded and, taking a large bite of her bread, sighed with pleasure.
“Are you well?”
“Is Constance ill?” Aunt Gwladys asked as she entered.
“She was just telling me how the decor at the ball last night was remarkable.”
There was no little amount of disbelief in her brother’s tone and for good reason. Constance rarely commented on such things.
“It is about time she started to notice these things,” said his aunt, a pleased smile spreading across her face. “Perhaps a gentleman has finally caught her eye. Things like that often awaken a lady’s appreciation of homely things. Yes,” she said as she poured her cup of tea, “a touch of love often sets a lady to imagining how she will present her own home for such affairs as balls.”
“A gentleman?” Linton’s eyes were wide and shifting from his aunt to his sister and back. “What gentleman?”
“Was it Mr. Delaney, dear?” Aunt Gwladys asked.
“Oh, no, he was dreadful,” said Constance. “Such a bore and not very enlightened.”
Aunt Gwladys scowled. “You barely spoke to any of the other gentlemen who partnered you.”
“I barely spoke to Mr. Delaney. He, on the other hand, could not stop speaking about everything that pleased him and why his was the only real opinion that mattered. Mine was of no value whatsoever.”
“Truly?” her aunt asked in surprise. “He always struck me as a more modest sort of fellow.”
“He most certainly is not modest,” Constance said firmly.
“Then what made the ball so delightful?” asked her brother as he opened his paper.
Constance shrugged. “I do not know. It just was.” Her cheeks warmed at the lie. She knew precisely what ─ or who ─ had made the evening delightful. However, she could not tell her brother that.