by Jen Turano
“I’ve got your tea,” Mr. Barclay said, following them into the library and causing Gilbert to grin over the idea that he and Temperance seemed to be in the process of being well and truly taken in hand by meddlers of the most impressive sort.
Taking a seat beside Temperance on a settee, he didn’t bother to hide his grin as Mr. Barclay went about pouring the tea, delivering it with a great deal of aplomb, and then hurrying from the room, closing the door behind him, and breaking numerous rules of decorum in the process.
“Is it me, or have the members of the elderly set suddenly begun acting more peculiar than usual?” he asked, taking a sip of his tea while Temperance did the same.
“How did you know I was upset about my parents changing their minds about whom they chose to become my guardian?” she asked instead of answering his question.
“That’s why you dragged me out of the dining room?”
“Just answer the question.”
He set aside his tea. “It’s not difficult to answer, Temperance. I just knew—the same way I knew you loathed being sent off to Miss Porter’s School for Young Ladies all those years ago.”
“You knew I loathed Miss Porter’s?”
“Of course.”
“I never told anyone that.”
“You didn’t have to tell me, Temperance. I always knew. I also knew you weren’t delighted about going off on a tour of Europe to improve your artistic skills. I’m sure you only agreed to that tour because you didn’t want to disappoint your parents or cause them to cancel one of their trips to some obscure part of the world.”
“I had a lovely time in Europe.”
“I’m sure you did, but I’m also certain you would have been just as content to stay on this side of the ocean and in the company of your parents.”
“I couldn’t expect them to stay with me. They always felt their travel around the world was a calling from God—a calling that required them to assist the poor souls in curious lands who’d never been exposed to God’s word.”
“And that was a noble calling to be sure, but it came with the price of leaving you behind—something you resent them for and something you feel guilty about.”
For a long moment she considered him, then leaned forward. “I actually stopped playing musical instruments because I wanted to annoy them.”
“You told me you stopped playing because people expected you to stick to playing classical pieces instead of allowing you to experiment with many different genres.”
“Well, yes, but . . .” She sent him a smile that had guilt written all over it. “It was really all due to my parents arranging for me to stay with this musical genius who expected me to practice all hours of the day and night. I thought if I simply stopped playing, my parents would have no choice but to return home to deal with my obstinacy.”
“And did that work?”
“It did. They cut their journey short and collected me from Boston, where I was staying.”
She bit her lip. “I was wracked with guilt for months because they were so understanding about me giving up music. They decided I was exhausted from all the practice and took me on a three-month holiday to the beach. It was a lovely holiday, and yet, I knew I was keeping them from their calling, which is why I didn’t put up much of a fuss when Mother suggested I attend Miss Porter’s School for Young Ladies.”
“You should have told your parents how you really felt, Temperance. They were wonderful people. I’m sure they simply believed they were giving you a future by enrolling you in a finishing school and then sending you off to Europe to pursue your painting.”
“I couldn’t very well tell them the truth because I knew if I did that, I’d be a huge disappointment to God.”
Of anything he’d been expecting, Temperance believing she’d disappoint God if she’d revealed her true feelings to her parents had never crossed his mind.
Rising to his feet, he moved directly next to her, crouching down to take her hand as he met her gaze.
“You’re going to need to explain that a little more sufficiently,” he said.
She heaved a sigh. “I’m sure you must remember how you and I were dreadful at times when our families attended church together, frequently missing entire sermons while we scribbled notes back and forth to each other. But there were times when I did listen to the sermons, and many of those sermons returned to the idea of what a blessing God found it to be when His children were willing to grab hold of the calling He sent them.”
“And because of those sermons,” Gilbert continued for her when her eyes suddenly turned suspiciously bright and she wiped her nose with her sleeve, “you somehow came to the conclusion that if you stood in the way of your parents and their many mission trips, you would be disappointing God because He gave them the desire to travel the world and seek out people in need.”
She gave a sniffle, accepted the handkerchief he pulled out of his pocket, and after she blew her nose, she lifted her head. “Exactly.”
“Did you ever consider the idea that God gave you to your parents? Or did you ever think that maybe He was disappointed at times with your parents for not being there for you?”
“I didn’t need them as much as the people they traveled to help. I had my father’s fortune behind me to secure all the luxuries and necessities of life. It seemed petty to expect more.”
“But you did want more—you wanted the attention of your parents.” He squeezed her hand. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting that type of attention, nor is there anything wrong with you being furious with your parents for leaving your welfare in the hands of Wayne and his horrid family instead of my parents.”
Temperance blew her nose again and finally gave a small nod. “I am furious with my parents, but I shouldn’t be because they’re dead, and it’s an insult to their memory.”
“It’s human to be angry with them, just as it’s human for you to be angry with God as well.”
A hint of a smile teased Temperance’s lips. “I’m not going to deny that I’ve been angry with God over the past three years for allowing my parents to be taken from me. Being around Eugene and Mercy, though, has reminded me that my relationship with God needs to be repaired, and I do believe I’m ready to put the anger I’ve held for Him aside.” The hint of a smile turned into a real one. “But now is hardly the time to delve further into that, what with the ball that’s to be held soon in this very house.”
“May I assume it’s also not the time to delve into what the future might hold for the two of us?”
“I don’t think the future holds much of anything except friendship for the two of us,” she said before she leaned closer to him, her face only inches from his. “But know this, my friend. I do cherish your friendship and find it comforting that someone in this world knows me so well.”
“But you don’t cherish me enough to want to become my countess?”
She leaned even closer, surprising him when she pressed her lips for the briefest second against his, pulling back all too soon. “It’s because I cherish you that I won’t become your countess, although do know that if events had not unfolded as they recently have, I might have entertained the thought of marrying you. Now, though, with you having to accept your late brother’s title, you’re going to have to find a lady more suited to the life you’re soon to live.”
With that, she gave him one last featherlight kiss, rose to her feet, and glided from the room, leaving him behind.
Chapter
Twenty-One
“Stop squirming,” Mrs. Davenport said, letting out a huff of exasperation as she tried to adjust a bustle that, in Temperance’s mind, was larger than it needed to be.
“Do you not believe the back of this gown would drape just as nicely without this monstrosity you’ve attached to my behind?” she asked, finally catching sight of her backside in the mirror and earning another huff from Mrs. Davenport in the process.
“Since I am currently a student of fashion, I do know what is
all the rage this season, and that bustle you’re wearing, my dear, is all the rage.”
“At least she didn’t create it from an old birdcage,” Gertrude pointed out, stepping up beside Temperance, looking resplendent in a gown of bright orange, her honey-gold hair swept up on the crown of her head, with orange jewels Temperance thought might be topaz woven into the strands.
“I notice your bustle isn’t nearly as large,” Temperance couldn’t help pointing out.
“That’s because, if you’ve forgotten, Mrs. Davenport did attach a birdcage to my bottom a few months back, with disastrous results. Because of that, she and I have agreed she’ll avoid attaching any type of bustle to me for the rest of my days.”
“It was only half a birdcage.” Mrs. Davenport stepped back from Temperance, looking her over with a critical eye. “You do wear gowns well, my dear, and I must say, you were quite right about choosing such a vivid shade of pink.”
Temperance smoothed a hand down the silk of her gown. “It is a shame we ladies are normally required to wear subdued colors instead of more vibrant ones.” She nodded to Gertrude. “It was brilliant on your part to ask all of us to abandon the pastels for the night. It’ll make for a truly exceptional evening.”
Gertrude smiled. “I can hardly wait to see how everything looks when the chandeliers are lit against the silken sky you created in the ballroom. And do not even get me started on how absolutely charming the centerpieces are—what with the ships you created and the miniature sandy beaches you used to showcase them.”
“Don’t forget that at the end of the night the guests will be absolutely delighted to learn they get to dig through that sand to find all sorts of treasures,” Mrs. Davenport added, tucking a strand of her dyed black hair behind her ear. “Although it really wasn’t an original idea on my part when I suggested the treasure hunt as a way for the guests to uncover their favors.” She smiled. “One of my society friends told me she’d been given the pleasure of digging for treasure at a ball held in Newport two seasons ago.”
“I don’t imagine many of the guests present tonight attended that particular ball,” Gertrude said. “Harrison and I didn’t invite the entire New York Four Hundred.” She gave a bit of a shudder. “That would have caused all sorts of havoc, and I think we’ve suffered enough havoc to last us a while.”
“Indeed,” Temperance said, shuddering as well before she smiled. “But speaking of the centerpieces, I do need to take one last look at the third-floor ballroom, and then I need to check on how the progress is going in the dining room.”
“No need to check the dining room, Miss Temperance,” Mercy said, striding into the room and looking completely unlike herself in a simple gown of deep blue, her dark hair braided around her head and her cheeks flushed an attractive shade of pink. “Me and the rest of the girls already have that room lookin’ shipshape again. As for the ballroom, Eugene and some of the other men got them chandeliers all lit up, and oh my, but it does look a treat up there.”
Temperance walked to join Mercy, who immediately gave Temperance a twirl, wobbling on heels she was evidently unused to. “What do you think?”
“You look absolutely lovely, Mercy. The blue suits you to perfection.”
Mercy nodded. “It does, doesn’t it?”
Temperance returned the nod. “I’m surprised you were able to get ready so quickly though. I have no idea how you and the other students were able to get the dining room put to rights before the first guests started arriving.”
“You’re forgettin’ that me and many of Miss Snook’s students spent years tidying up the big houses we worked in. We’re good at tidying, so it was no great feat that we got the dining room put back together before the ball started. But getting back to how I’m lookin’ . . .” Mercy twirled around again, wobbling only a touch before she dipped into a slightly awkward curtsy and grinned. “I ain’t, I mean, I’ve never had me no fancy dress before, so I do thank you and the rest of the ladies for providing me with it.” She nodded to Gertrude. “It sure was a kindness for you to invite us to your special night, Miss Gertrude. Do know that all of us here at the school wish you only the very best with your dashing, and oh-so-scrump . . . ti . . . ous Mr. Harrison Sinclair.”
“Don’t let Harrison hear you calling him scrumptious,” Edwina said, looking up from a stack of paperwork she was reading in a chair beside the fireplace. “He’s smug enough as it is, what with him soon to be married to the love of his life.”
Mercy nodded. “Mum’s the word, Miss Edwina, although I’ve witnessed you being a little smug as well, especially when that charming Agent McParland is paying you attention.”
Edwina sent Mercy a wink. “Guilty as charged.”
Mercy sent her a wink right back before she nodded to the papers Edwina had been looking through. “Seems an odd time to be catching up on your readin’.”
“I’m afraid with all the nastiness that happened this afternoon, I was unable to complete the task I was asked to do by Samuel, or, ah, Agent McParland I suppose I should say since this is a business matter.” She held up one of the papers. “All of these pages contain the notes of numerous agents, many of whom have horrible handwriting. It’s my job to look through their notes and see if I can find any sort of pattern that may shed some light on who might be behind trying to do in Temperance and her family.”
Temperance walked across the room, stopping directly in front of Edwina. “Have you found anything yet?”
Pursing her lips, Edwina looked down, riffled through a few of the pages, then pulled out a sheet from the pile. Running her finger down a page of scribbled notes, she stopped and lifted her head. “It’s not anything definitive, but this page of notes was written out by two agents who tried to secure an appointment with Mr. John Howland, your father’s old attorney.”
“They didn’t succeed?” Temperance asked as Mrs. Davenport, apparently not done with her fussing, began tugging the back of Temperance’s skirt, almost pulling Temperance off her feet in the process.
“He’s apparently left town,” Edwina said right as Temperance regained her balance.
Pulling her skirt away from Mrs. Davenport, who was now in the process of trying to fluff it up, something it certainly didn’t need since the bustle attached to her was doing a fine job of that, Temperance frowned. “I’m no Pinkerton, but that seems suspicious.”
“Agreed, and it’s even more suspicious that when these two agents questioned Mr. Howland’s secretary, she didn’t know when Mr. Howland was expected to return, nor where he’d gone.”
“Gilbert’s secretary always knows where he is on any given day. I would assume Mr. Howland would expect no less from his secretary, which makes one wonder if he does have something to do with the skullduggery that’s been swarming around me of late.”
“Have you ever noticed how often you bring Gilbert into the conversation?” Edwina asked, completely neglecting to address what Temperance thought had been a very telling point about Mr. Howland. “And has anyone mentioned that you get this dreamy expression in your eyes when you do mention Gilbert, which again, you do often?”
“I don’t get a dreamy expression in my eyes” was all she could think to say to that.
Mrs. Davenport let out a snort. “You do, dear, but it would be hard for you to see that expression, unless you just happened to be by a mirror when you bring Gilbert’s name up in conversation.”
“I think you should marry the man,” Edwina added.
Before Temperance could reply to that, Mrs. Davenport began nodding in a vigorous fashion. “No truer words have ever been said, but Temperance is clearly still hesitant about the matter. Otherwise, well, I daresay she’d be wearing that lovely ring I gave Gilbert.” She reached out and gave Temperance’s skirt another tug, one that was a little more forceful than was strictly necessary.
After finding her balance yet again, Temperance quirked a brow. “You gave Gilbert a ring—as in an engagement ring?”
“What other
type of ring would you expect me to give the man I’ve decided is perfect for you in every way?” Mrs. Davenport countered. “I’ve been carrying the ring around with me for days, and I finally decided that it was time to pass it on to Gilbert after he saved you from the jaws of death yet again.” She gave a sad shake of her head. “I really thought the two of you would be well and truly engaged by now, but apparently you turned him down once more. He was looking quite perplexed when he took his leave earlier, as if he didn’t know what to do after suffering another rejection at your hands.”
“I’m certain he was only looking that way because I kissed him . . . twice,” Temperance said, her words causing silence to descend on the room.
Miss Henrietta, who was sitting at a vanity table having her hair curled, turned to her. “You exchanged kisses with Gilbert and yet you’re still determined not to marry him?”
“I wouldn’t say I exchanged kisses with Gilbert because I didn’t actually allow him time to return the kisses I gave him. In all honesty, I’m not certain what I gave him can be considered true kisses since they weren’t of the lingering sort, but more along the lines of brief shows of true affection.”
Miss Henrietta narrowed her eyes. “And this true affection you apparently hold for the man is not the type of affection that would normally end with a walk down the aisle?”
Temperance narrowed her eyes right back. “It is not, although I did tell him that if he wasn’t destined to spend his life as the Earl of Strafford, I might have entertained the thought of considering a marriage proposal from him at some point in time.”
“It’s little wonder the poor man looked perplexed,” Edwina said, setting aside her paperwork. “And I must admit I am as well. How in the world did you reason out that even though you hold Gilbert in true affection, you can’t marry him because he’s found himself in possession of a lofty title, as well as a castle or two? He also has a rather nice fortune that will allow him to maintain his castles in style.”