A Gentleman Always Remembers

by Candace Camp

  “And when he was drunk, he decided he should go inside and see the bride. No doubt you’re right. But still, given everything that happened last month, I’d rather not leave the girls unattended except for their chaperone.”

  “No, of course not. You needn’t worry. I’ll keep an eye out for strangers or any unusual happenings. And Neville’s here.”

  “How long is he planning to stay?”

  Fitz shrugged. “I get the impression he’s avoiding his father. Could be a week . . . or three . . . or six. You know how Neville is.”

  “Mm. Next to him, you are a pattern card of responsibility.”

  Fitz ignored the jab, saying, “I’m sure he would stay longer if I needed him. And you have to admit, he’s a good man in a fight.”

  “Gad, I hope it doesn’t come to that. And don’t tell the girls. Camellia will decide to arm herself to the teeth.”

  Fitz chuckled. “No doubt. Vivian, too, now that Cam’s been training her.”

  “That’s all we need—Vivian Carlyle, armed. As if she isn’t dangerous enough without a pistol.”

  Fitz studied his brother for a long moment but said only, “Don’t worry. I shall take care nothing happens to any of them.”

  “Thank you.” Oliver glanced at Fitz and smiled. “It is good of you to stay here so long. I know that ruralizing bores you.”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Fitz said, his mouth twitching up in a grin. “I’m beginning to find that the country offers far more entertainment than I’d ever imagined.”

  Chapter 8

  Over the course of the next few days life settled into a pleasant routine at Willowmere. The new bride and groom departed, along with the wedding guests, and only a day after that the earl returned to London as well, leaving them a much-depleted party, with only Fitz and his friend Neville to keep Eve and the two remaining Bascombe sisters company.

  As the days passed Eve thought now and then of the ominous letter she had received, but she still could not identify anyone who might have sent it. None of the servants ever looked at her with animosity or guilt, and if Lily and Camellia had sent the note, they were indeed tremendous actresses. Eve glanced at the table in the entryway whenever she passed it, wondering if another note might appear there, but none did. Finally, she decided that the matter must have been merely a freakish occurrence.

  Life settled into a pleasant routine. Lessons were no longer the onerous occasions they had been in the past. While Eve continued to instruct Lily and Camellia in deportment, she did so by recounting various stories she had heard and events she had witnessed during her own come-out ten years earlier.

  “You may think that things have changed since then,” she told them playfully, “but let me assure you, except for the fashions and the hairstyles, they have not.”

  She told her stories well, and since she was open to any questions Lily or Camellia had, their discussions wound up ranging far and wide, covering topics that doubtless would have astounded the earl. The result, however, was that the girls absorbed far more than they ever had with the infamous Miss Dalrymple.

  Their mornings were largely spent in the informal upstairs sitting room, where they had a view of the lovely side gardens leading down to the small tarn and summerhouse. They talked, sometimes working on the finer sewing skills as they did so, and Eve demonstrated the proper ways to walk, stand, sit, and curtsey, as well as such things as how to use a fan to best advantage when flirting. Needless to say, Lily found such bits of knowledge far more useful than Camellia did, but even Cam was intrigued when Eve described the time she used her folded fan to provide a sharp poke into the belly of an importunate suitor.

  “Now, that is useful,” she said, picking up her fan and examining it with more interest. “I imagine there are several places where it could do some damage.”

  Eve chuckled. “What a bloodthirsty girl you are, to be sure.”

  “Not bloodthirsty,” Camellia protested. “I just like to be able to protect myself. And my sisters. I don’t understand why everyone finds that odd.”

  Eve tilted her head to the side, considering her statement. “I think it is the manner in which you protect yourself, not the intent, that is unfamiliar to us. You see, in the ton, all of the ladies you will meet are intent on protecting their own as well. It is simply that they use gossip and fashion and rules of behavior to do it.”

  “Rules!” Camellia’s tone was scornful. “How can you use rules to fight with?”

  “Don’t be such a clunch, Cam,” Lily told her. “Of course rules can protect one. If a girl is never alone with a man, there can be no question attached to her good name. And if her reputation is unsullied, she is much more likely to attract a man of substance. Isn’t that right, Eve?”

  “Exactly. Marrying her daughter to a man of wealth and standing is the best way a mother can ensure her daughter will have shelter, food, clothes, and safety the rest of her life.”

  “I would think you would rail against that, Lily,” Camellia told her sister. “What happened to marrying for love?”

  “I didn’t say that was what I would do,” Lily retorted. “People marry for love so they can be happy. Happiness is an entirely different thing from safety.” She turned toward Eve. “Isn’t that right?”

  “There are those who hold that it is a trifle hard to be happy without some degree of security.”

  “Well, yes,” Lily agreed. “One would not wish to starve. But if you aren’t willing to take a chance, you’ll miss the grand adventures, won’t you? And I intend to have grand adventures.”

  Eve smiled at the girl, aware suddenly of longing piercing her chest. “Then the rest of us will have to make sure that you are protected.” Though Eve said the words lightly, she was in earnest. Her concern over Lily’s attraction to Neville Carr had not diminished.

  The gentlemen generally spent some time in the afternoons chatting with them in the drawing room, and every afternoon included a dancing or riding lesson, sometimes both. Since Fitz and his friend were invariably with them for these lessons, the result was that Lily and Camellia spent a great deal of time with Mr. Carr. Eve did not worry about Camellia, who treated Carr much as she did Fitz (though without the same respect for his shooting skills, which she found negligible).

  Lily, however, showed unmistakable signs of being smitten by Carr’s charm. To make matters worse, Eve was beginning to suspect that Neville was interested in Lily. A girlish infatuation was one thing; should Neville reciprocate the emotion, it could spell disaster.

  Eve sprinkled her conversations with the girls with casual references to the dangers of giving one’s heart too soon, the tendency of some gentlemen to flirt without having a serious intent, and the importance of not showing a preference for one gentleman. “It never does to let a man know you care; he’s apt to become complacent and sure of himself. Besides, you open yourself up to gossips, who will say that you are setting your cap for him. Or worse. Then, if he does not make you an offer, you will be embarrassed in front of all the ton.”

  Still, she could not dwell on the matter too much without it sounding like a lecture, and Eve was well aware of how little Lily or her sister was inclined to listen to lectures. Any attempts to specifically warn the girl away from Mr. Carr would, she suspected, have the opposite effect.

  Eve made sure that the two of them were never left alone together, knowing that it was far more difficult to flirt when there was another person present—and even harder to develop a grand passion. In this endeavor Eve had an unwitting ally in Camellia, for the two sisters were rarely apart. But Eve could not be with the girls every minute of the day, and there was always the possibility that Lily might run into Neville.

  One evening, as Eve played the piano and Lily and Camellia joined in song, Eve saw that Lily’s eyes kept returning to Mr. Carr. He was watching Lily with a faint smile on his lips, and there was a certain light in his eyes that reminded Eve forcibly of the look she had seen more than once on Fitz’s face when he ga
zed at her. It was a look that, from Fitz, would set her heart to beating faster. She suspected that Lily had much the same reaction to Neville.

  Eve realized that she would have to speak to Fitz about the situation. She would have done it earlier, no doubt, if she had not been so studiously avoiding being alone with Fitz. Even though they were thrown together at meals and every evening, as well as the riding and dancing lessons, there was no possibility of any romantic entanglement—or even talk of romance—as long as there were other people around. Fortunately, her plan of sticking to Lily’s side had served Eve well in regard to Fitz, too. Eve had taken no strolls around the garden on her own, and she was careful not to go down to a meal until she heard Lily’s and Camellia’s voices in the hall. Once or twice she had crossed paths with Fitz in a corridor or on the stairs, but Eve had given him only a polite smile and word of greeting before she hurried on her way. The hardest part, she knew, had been fighting her own inclination to linger with him. Still, she had grimly hung on to her resolution and stayed away from him.

  However, the next afternoon, when they were out riding, Eve purposely dropped behind the others, hoping that Fitz would seize the opportunity to talk to her and fall back as well. She could not deny a small measure of satisfaction when he did so.

  “Well, Mrs. Hawthorne,” he said, smiling. “’Tis a rare occasion indeed when I get a chance to speak with you alone.”

  “I wanted to talk to you about Lily,” Eve said briskly, determined to make their conversation impersonal.

  He raised his eyebrows slightly. “Indeed? And what about Lily?”

  “I fear that she may be forming an attachment to your friend Mr. Carr.”

  “Neville?” Fitz shrugged. “He is always popular with the ladies. But he is never serious.”

  “Lily doesn’t know that. She is young and inexperienced. She does not know that he is an accomplished flirt. She believes him when he pays her compliments. It’s not the same as it would be meeting him during the Season—there she would have many young men vying for her attention, all of them flirting with her. She would see Mr. Carr flirting with other ladies, and she would realize that it means no more when he does it with her. But here, she is thrown together with him for a great deal of time, and she sees only how charming he is to her. I have tried to explain to her how things are, but talk does little to combat what one feels. I fear she will tumble head over heels in love with the man.”

  Fitz gazed at her thoughtfully. “Why do you dislike Neville?”

  “I hardly know the man.”

  “I know, yet still I sense that you do not approve of him.”

  Eve hesitated for a moment, then shrugged. “It is true that what I have heard of him does not recommend him to me.”

  “The stories about Carr are highly exaggerated. For that matter, the stories about me are exaggerated. There are more than a few who would tell you that I am a rake as well.” He caught the glance she sent him and chuckled. “Oh dear. Now you are going to tell me that I am a rake.”

  “I did not say that.” Eve shook her head, a little flustered by his too accurate assessment of her thoughts. “Besides, we are talking about Mr. Carr. Is it not true that he once seduced a young officer’s wife on a bet?”

  Fitz stared at her blankly. “What? I don’t recall—”

  “Her name was Fanny Bertram. She was Lieutenant Harry Bertram’s wife. Her husband served under mine six or seven years ago, so I knew her. There were . . . rumors. They followed her wherever he was stationed. Finally, one day, in a storm of tears, she told me the whole story. Harry and Fanny kept rather fast company when they were first married. There were bets placed at Watiers as to who would be the first man to seduce the new bride. Neville Carr was the man who won the bet.” Eve looked at Fitz. “Do you remember now?”

  “Vaguely.” He shrugged. “It was a long time ago, and we were both foolish young men, just out of Oxford and on our own for the first time. Young men are apt to do a number of thoughtless things.”

  “Did you—” Eve’s breath caught, and she had to swallow before she could continue. “Did you participate in the bet as well?” It surprised her how much it hurt to think that he had.

  “I? Good Gad, no. I mean, I may have placed some money on it one way or another—I don’t remember—but I never tried to seduce Fanny. That isn’t my sort of sport.”

  “Oh, yes, I forgot. You don’t pursue married women; you prefer widows. Fewer entanglements.” The words came out more bitter than she had expected, and Eve tried for a lighter, amused tone as she went on. “You know, Vivian warned me that you were well known for seducing widows. I didn’t tell her that I already had firsthand knowledge of that.”

  “I didn’t kiss you because you are a widow!” Fitz retorted indignantly.

  Eve arched an expressive eyebrow. “No? As I remember, you told me widows were more desirable than other women. Did you not?”

  “Well, yes, but that was a compliment. I was flirting with you.”

  “Is it not true that you have had a number of affairs with widows?”

  His jaw clenched. “Yes, I have. But it isn’t as if I go about accosting widows. Nor do I set out to seduce every widow I meet.”

  “So it is simply that a widow is the sort of woman you prefer.”

  “None of that has anything to do with you.” Frustration tinged his voice. “You cannot think that I pursued you only because you are a widow.”

  “No. Not only.” Eve shook her head. “In any case, it does not matter. We are not talking about you but about Mr. Carr.”

  Fitz looked as though he wanted to pursue the matter, but then he sighed and said, “Yes. We are talking about a foolish incident that took place many years ago. Was it really so wicked? Fanny was a forward sort; it was only a matter of time before she cuckolded her husband. She bedded Neville quite willingly. It isn’t as if he destroyed a good woman’s virtue.”

  “If that isn’t just like a man to say something like that!” Eve glared at him. “You cannot possibly know what would have happened if your friends had not played with that couple’s lives for their own amusement. Perhaps Fanny would have betrayed her marital vows, but it would not necessarily have happened with such rapidity. And it certainly would not have happened in such a publicly humiliating way. The rumors followed them everywhere they went for years afterward. It was quite damaging to Lieutenant Bertram’s career. He finally had to request to be sent to India.”

  “The devil take it! I did nothing to ruin their marriage.”

  “You may not have participated in Fanny’s seduction, but you aided in the fatal wounding of that marriage—all of you wealthy, indolent young men who have nothing better to do than to sit about making bets on nonsensical things and drinking and gambling, with no care for anyone else in the world. You don’t care what happens to a woman when her reputation is ruined or how the world will judge her, so long as you can have your fun!”

  Fitz stiffened, color washing the high line of his cheekbones. He reached out and grasped her hand on her reins, pulling her to a halt beside him. “Do not!” His voice was low and harsh, the very quietness of it seeming to increase its intensity. “Do not dare to assume that anything I feel for you has aught to do with what happened to Fanny Bertram. Or with any other woman I have known. I have lived for thirty-two years, so, yes, I have had other women, some of them widows. I have done foolish and oft times selfish things. But I have never purposely hurt a woman. And I do not want you in my bed because you are a widow and offer ‘fewer entanglements.’ I want you because you . . . are you.”

  For an instant heat shimmered between them. Fitz’s eyes were bright blue, piercing in the sunlight, and it seemed to Eve that they pinned her to the spot. Then a laugh from in front of them drifted back, and the stillness was broken. Fitz dropped his hand from hers, looking ahead at the others.

  “That may be so, but it is still true that your desire for me does not include any ‘entanglements.’”

  He
was silent for a moment. “I have no interest in marriage, no. I am talking about mutual pleasure and a free relationship on both sides.”

  “I fear such a relationship has far more freedom for the man than the woman,” Eve pointed out tartly.

  “Then marriage is your goal?” Fitz asked.

  “I am done with marriage. That does not mean I am willing to trade my good name for a night’s romp in your bed.”

  He smiled sensuously. “Oh, ’twould be much more than that, I assure you.”

  “The only difference is time.” She turned her head away. “And we have drifted far afield again. The subject was Mr. Carr and his influence on Lily.”

  “That incident was many years ago, Eve.”

  “Still, he is a dangerous man to have around impressionable young girls.”

  “Neville would not try to seduce Lily!” Fitz’s tone was shocked. “Perhaps he is a bit of a rake. Certainly he is a flirt. But he is my friend. He would never besmirch my cousin’s reputation.”

  “Perhaps not. But what about Lily’s heart? What is fun and flirtation to a sophisticated man like Mr. Carr seems like love to a romantic young woman like Lily. You know how she is, the books she reads. She thinks that life should be full of ‘grand adventures’ and great passions. While he is amusing himself, she is all too likely to fall in love. He may for your sake refrain from hurting Lily’s reputation, but she could still end up with a broken heart.”

  “How do you know he will break her heart? What is to say that he might not fall in love as well? There is nothing wrong with Neville as a match for Lily. He is the oldest son, Lord Carr’s heir, and their estate is substantial. Yes, he is a little older, but many men are older than their spouses.”

  Eve looked at him, her head tilted to one side inquiringly. “Is he not engaged? Vivian told me he was.”

  “Vivian talks entirely too much.”

  “Is it not true?”

  “He isn’t formally engaged. Or at least he was not the last I heard. But it has been an understood thing for years that he would offer for Priscilla Symington. Not, of course, that they will suit,” he added darkly. “But Lord Carr thinks marriage will settle Neville down.”