The Portrait

by Hazel Statham

  "How are you liking it at Fly?" asked the earl as his steward came within earshot.

  "Very well, my lord, very well indeed," replied Randall. "It's much to my liking, if I may say so. Though I must admit there appears quite a lot of work that has been left undone in your absence, sir."

  "Then I shall rely on you to set it to rights. You need not fear expense. Whatever needs to be done, see to it. Take on any staff you feel necessary, and I will expect a regular report of your progress."

  "If you have a moment now, my lord, there are some immediate issues I would raise with you"

  "Then we will go to my office," replied Sinclair, "and arrangements can be made."

  Thus became the trend as the earl immersed himself in matters of the estate. Having no desire for the present to return to London, he found some diversion for his thoughts, and that generated a sense of purpose.

  The London season was nearing its end, devoid of the presence of both the Earl of Sinclair and Lady Jennifer, and the tabbies ceased to comment on their continued absence, more noteworthy gossip replacing it within their ranks.

  Returning to Fly one afternoon from a visit to one of his farms, Sinclair was surprised to see Croft hurrying down the laurel walk to meet him, his gnarled countenance wreathed in smiles, his breath coming in gasps.

  Smiling, the earl waited for the retainer's panting to subside, saying, "Whatever it is, there's no need to hurry."

  "There's a young lady to see you, sir," said Croft, eventually calming enough to be audible. "Would not give her name but said you would see her."

  Quickening his step, Sinclair hastened toward the house. He knew not who his caller might be. There were so few ladies of his acquaintance who would call at Fly Hall unannounced, and he had to admit to a deal of curiosity.

  Entering the hall, he asked of his visitor's whereabouts from an attending footman and, upon being informed that madam was installed in the drawing room, crossed the hall with a hasty step and flung wide the door. Its occupant-a small, vivacious brunet dressed in widow's weeds-came quickly to her feet, issuing a cry of delight.

  "My dear Estelle!" he exclaimed with great surprise, smiling broadly and quickly crossing the room with hand outstretched.

  But she ignored that hand and instead cast herself upon his breast. "I despaired of ever seeing you again, Edward," she cried, smiling up at him. "It seems so long since you left the convent to return to England."

  "It does indeed seem an eternity since my return," he agreed, leading her to the chaise and seating her at his side.

  She took his hand in a warm clasp and examined his features, saying, "I must admit, you look prodigiously well. When last I saw you, you were so weak that I worried continually about you, but I see now there was no need"

  "None at all. Behold, I am a new man," he replied, holding wide his arm. "But tell me, how fare you? When did you return to England? Do you intend to stay?"

  "I will answer one question at a time." She chuckled. "I do extremely well. I've been returned to England but a week; and, yes, I do believe I will stay."

  "Then you will bear company with me," he answered enthusiastically. "I'm sorely in need of counsel other than my own"

  "I had hoped to see you married by this time."

  "As you see, I am not," he answered curly, not wishing to expand on the subject. Then, in an attempt to divert the conversation, he asked, "Do you open up the house in Edgemont Square, or are you retiring to the country?"

  "I'm afraid both houses are to be sold, and I must look for a property to lease," she said quietly. "Dear James left me ill provided for, and so many debts have accrued while we were in Spain that I am left with no alternative. I believe myself to be almost penniless."

  "His family hasn't offered you aid?" he asked incredulously. "I can't believe they would see you out of a home"

  "You know they never approved of our marriage, Edward, and when I wrote from the convent in Portugal to inform them of James' death, I heard very little from them. There were no offers of assistance. They didn't even want to know the details of his demise. Indeed, the presumption is that our association is now at an end."

  Sinclair issued a sound of disgust. "Thank God James isn't aware of their treatment of you. 'Tis as well you came to me. As you know, he charged me with your protection before I left the convent, and I am completely at your disposal. Whatever arrangements need be made, you can safely leave to me. I will ensure that all debts are cleared. You will have no need to sell your properties."

  "I cannot allow such generosity," she cried. "Your assistance with settling his estate is all I require."

  "You must permit me to honor the promises I made to a dying friend," he replied quietly. "Indeed, I will not have it otherwise."

  For a moment, with tears standing in her eyes, she studied his countenance. "Dear Edward, I should have known you would come to my aid as you have done so often in the past. What would I do without you?" And, leaning forward, she gently placed a kiss on his cheek.

  "What nonsense is this?" He smiled. "Whatever aid I've given to you and James is nothing compared to the support you gave to me. Without it I never would have survived." Taking her hand, he raised it to his lips.

  "Now you must tell me why you've not married," said Estelle sympathetically. "I had hoped to find you most comfortably settled and on your way to setting up your nursery. If she would not have you, then she is a fool."

  It took all of Jennifer's concentration to guide her horses through the ever-moving press in Regent Street. Sitting beside her, Phillip Rutledge appeared ill at ease and shuffled continuously in his seat.

  "You should let me take the ribbons," he said reprovingly.

  "Are you suggesting I'm not able to tool my own team?" she replied with some asperity. "For I tell you, I'm equally as capable as you."

  "It's not your ability I doubt but your strength, my dear."

  She cast him a disparaging look. "You need have no fears on that matter. It's by skill that I control my horses, not force. If you would but have more faith in me, you will see there is no need for your concerns."

  As a landau bearing a well-known coat of arms crossed her path, she brought the equipage to an abrupt halt, almost unseating her passenger and causing him to utter a sharp oath. "What the deuce?" he snapped, frowning heavily and attempting to see the occupants of the coach that had so unexpectedly halted them, but the only view he had was of the back of their heads.

  "'Twas Edward," she replied, appearing taken aback.

  "And who is his companion?" Rutledge craned his neck, but already the carriage was out of sight.

  "I've no idea. She wears widow's weeds. Even so ... she is very beautiful."

  "Then you need have no further concerns for him," scoffed Rutledge. "It appears the man may all but be killed, but still he survives and obviously finds consolation elsewhere."

  "Get down," ordered Jennifer. "You may return on foot. I will no longer tolerate your remarks"

  "As you will, my dear," replied Rutledge mockingly. "The day has proved pleasanter than I would have supposed. Forswear, I couldn't have wished for a better outcome" Springing lightly into the road, he made a courtly bow. "Perhaps now you will come to accept the inevitable. I call for you at eight."

  Setting her pair once more into motion, Jennifer left her would-be suitor to return alone. The sight of Sinclair driving with an unfamiliar female at his side had affected her more deeply than she was prepared to admit, and she mentally took herself to task. She had been returned to town but three days and during that time had continually looked for his presence. Reason told her that he was perfectly at liberty to driveindeed, accompany-anyone he had a mind to. She had no claims upon his attentions. But that did not lessen the hurt she felt, and the thought crossed her mind, Could this be the beaul in the portrait?

  The fleeting encounter had not gone unnoticed by the earl, and he was fully aware of who sat at Jennifer's side. However, his attention was claimed by his companion
, who was constantly in need of reassurance that it was perfectly acceptable to be seen driving out while in deepest mourning.

  "I would not have asked you to accompany me on a visit to the solicitors," said Estelle, full of concern, "but they confuse me, and I need a brain sharper than mine to deal with them"

  "They should have waited on you in Edgemont Square," reproved the earl, "not have you driving halfway across London. They will not do so again. I will make sure of it."

  "They see me as a lone female who has debts and feel that they are at liberty to treat me as they will."

  "Then this will be the end of it. My man will deal with whatever arrangements are necessary in the future. You will not be called upon for a second time in this manner. I shall make certain of it. Once they see that you have support, you will not be put upon again, I assure you"

  "When I am able, I will ensure you are repaid every penny, Edward. I will not have you owed such vast amounts on my behalf."

  "You may have no fear," he said, patting her hand. "The amounts are not as vast as they would have you believe. I will not even notice their paying."

  "But ..." she interrupted, but he raised a finger to his lips.

  "Say no more, my dear. I will not have it otherwise."

  Settling back into her seat, she heaved a deep sigh. "Dear Edward, you don't know what a vast relief it is to have this burden taken from my shoulders."

  Almack's Assembly Rooms in King Street, St. James', opened its doors to patrons every Wednesday evening throughout the London season. Subscribers to the exclusive club were expected to conform to its very strict rules in fear of being blackballed. Patrons were offered supper and gaming, with dancing lasting the night. However, once eleven o'clock was achieved, anyone not within its portals was doomed for disappointment, as it was then that the doors were locked and further admissions refused. Only one member of the committee acted as Patroness at any given time, the post being filled on a rota basis.

  This was the penultimate event of the season, and on this particular evening Mrs. Fitzroy held the office. From her vantage point at the head of the ballroom she watched with some interest the arrival of the Earl of Hawley, his betrothed, and his reputedly wayward sister. Firm in her belief that there was no smoke without fire, she admitted to a vast degree of curiosity on the subject of Lady Jennifer's disappearance. With this firmly in mind, she decided to engage her in conversation as soon as it was practicable. She would not allow her curiosity to go unsated.

  The opportunity came as the party made their way into supper during an interval in the dancing. Making her way purposefully through the press of the supper room, she approached Jennifer when she sat alone at the table.

  "My dear Lady Jennifer, you must allow me to tell you how delighted I am that you are returned safely from your journey," she said, smiling and taking the seat at her side.

  Feigning surprise, Jenny raised her eyebrows, replying, "What journey is this? I but visited Lady Flora Carlton and her family in Essex. It was not, after all, such a hazardous venture"

  "Ah, yes, I forget, that is the explanation Hawley gave for your absence. Though, to be honest, I thought it had more interesting origins."

  "Then I'm sorry to disappoint you, madam. His explanation was quite correct. It was no more `interesting' than a visit to a friend."

  Jennifer would have risen, but Mrs. Fitzroy laid a detaining hand on her arm and, as if noticing it for the first time, exclaimed, "Why, your hair, my dear-what new style is this? The fashion is for short, but this is positively ... well ... one could almost say ... boyish."

  Before Jennifer could give an answer, a well-known voice issued from behind her.

  "My dear Mrs. Fitzroy, you must allow me to comment on the subject," said Sinclair, smiling and coming to stand immediately behind Jennifer's chair. She turned quickly to look up at him, but, completely ignoring her look, he continued. "It is the new Grecian style being worn by all the ladies of fashion on the Continent, as my sister would eagerly attest. If I may offer my opinion as a mere male, I find it a most charming creation, do not you?"

  Mrs. Fitzroy rose from her seat, feeling unequal to such opposition, and her smile wavered as she said, "My Lord, I was not aware that you graced us with your presence this evening. You are so rarely seen within these portals."

  "I arrived just as the door was about to be locked," Sinclair informed her. "I gained admission by a mere five minutes. Come now, give us the benefit of your impeccable judgment, which I know is always to be relied upon!"

  "Then I must agree with you, my lord-it is indeed a most modish creation. One that will undoubtedly take society by storm." Then, turning to Jennifer, she smiled most graciously. "I wondered at first at your daring, my dear, but now I see it at close quarters, there is no doubt it will become the rage in fashionable circles. Indeed, if I were but ten years younger, I would be sorely tempted to emulate the style myself."

  "It would suit you most admirably." The earl smiled, bowing briefly. Taking Jennifer's elbow in a firm grip, he raised her from her chair. "I'm sure you will excuse us, Mrs. Fitzroy. My sister has charged me with the task of taking Lady Jennifer to her in the ballroom, and if I fail, she will be most displeased. Flora is not one to be kept waiting."

  "Dear Lady Carlton. How does she fare?" asked Mrs. Fitzroy, also rising and preparing to leave.

  "Extremely well, and she promises herself the pleasure of calling on you in the not too distant future, I believe."

  "Then I shall live in anticipation of her visit," replied Mrs. Fitzroy with a slight inclination of her head before smiling briefly and turning to make her way toward the ballroom.

  "What a complete hand you are at hamming, Ned" Jennifer chuckled, resuming her seat. "I wouldn't have suspected you to be so adept at such creativity."

  "If I am, then you must lay its origins at your own door," replied the earl, an irrepressible gleam in his eye. "It is perhaps our close association over the past few weeks and your own talent for improvisation that have been my inspiration. You, my girl, are incorrigible."

  "Wretch!" she cried, laughter lighting her eyes. "You need no tutoring from me. You are a complete hand at it, and I will not take the blame."

  "Then shall we both confess to having a fertile imagination, Jen?"

  "Most certainly, sir, but such confessions can only serve to apportion blame."

  "Touche, my dear," he replied, laughing outright. "But now you must allow me to take you to Flora. She is indeed waiting in the ballroom and is all eagerness to see you"

  The discord of their last meeting seemed to have disappeared, both parties preferring to forget its existence, neither having the desire to call to mind their brief encounter but two days earlier in Regent Street. Laying her hand on the earl's arm, Jennifer allowed him to take her in search of Flora. However, once the earl had placed Jennifer at his sister's side and retreated toward the card room, Jennifer felt compelled to mention the encounter to Flora.

  "Lady Estelle Stratton is indeed very beautiful," agreed Flora. "I don't know the whole of it, for, as you know, Edward is reluctant to talk about his time in the campaigns, and I would not wish to press him. However, this much I have gleaned from talking to Estelle. You must know that she was extremely devoted to her dear late husband and still is. He, too, was one of Marchant's officers, and he also was wounded at Salamanca, but, unlike Edward, he did not survive his injuries."

  Jenny uttered a sound of sympathy, but Flora continued. "Estelle had traveled in the column with the other officers' wives and therefore was able to be with him until the end. As you know, Edward lay in the convent for quite some while before he returned to England, and during that time a close bond was forged among the three of them. It was known that Lord Stratton would not survive his injuries, and Edward vowed his support when the inevitable should occur. When he returned home, it was with the certain knowledge that his friend would not survive above a few weeks. However, Stratton clung to life until but a month ago"

>   "'Tis a very sad tale indeed," said Jenny quietly, "and one can understand Lady Stratton's need for support."

  "Edward can always be relied upon." Flora smiled. "Always knows what should be done"

  "As I should know," replied Jennifer, studying her hands as they rested in her lap.

  Flora reached over and patted them. "There's no need to be downcast, my dear," she assured her. "There is no attachment there, merely fondness for a friend."

  "I'm sure that whatever their relationship is, 'tis no concern of mine," retorted Jenny, her cheeks coloring and her tone somewhat sharper than she intended.

  Lady Flora smiled to herself at this show of pique and prudently changed the subject to that of a more general run of things.

  Wishing not to draw attention to their acquaintance, the earl did not return to stand at Jenny's side until the evening's entertainment was nearing its conclusion. "Do you think we might venture the next dance?" he asked soberly, extending his hand and raising her from her chair.

  The earl appeared unusually quiet as they waited for the sets to form. "Rutledge does not accompany you this evening?" he eventually queried.

  Jennifer looked at him sharply. "Why should he? I need not be forever in his pocket"

  "That's not what Hawley tells me," replied Sinclair. "I've just been speaking with him, and he informs me that Rutledge has asked for and been granted permission to pay his addresses to you"

  "That is news to me," stated Jenny incredulously. "Since Ravensby, he has not approached me on the subject"

  "And when he does?"

  "Only then will I feel the need to consider it," she replied, annoyance rising at his words.

  The music began, and they were forced apart by the movement of the dance, finding it impossible to continue the conversation until the orchestra ceased and they left the floor. By this time a feeling of indignation had arisen in Jennifer's breast, and she felt not inclined to continue the conversation, reasoning that whatever she chose to do with her future was no concern of Sinclair's. He had other objectives to consider.