Mr. Rushford's Honor

by Meg Alexander

  Mrs Guarding smiled again. ‘Have you never thought of teaching, Lady Whitelaw? I try to instil these ideas into my girls.’

  ‘I’m honoured, Mrs Guarding, but my teaching has been confined only to my stepdaughters, and to myself of course.’

  ‘That is a pity, ma’am. You are a natural teacher, I suspect. Bring your girls tomorrow then, and we shall make them welcome.’

  Gina returned to Abbot Quincey well satisfied with the result of her expedition. Mrs Guarding had made no concessions either to her title or her wealth. Her manner was brusque, and her tone uncompromising, but there could be no doubt that she was a woman of sterling character. Poet, novelist, historian? Yes, she was all of these, as Anthony had suggested, but she was also a dedicated emancipationist. Mair and Elspeth could not be in better hands.

  They were still unconvinced but on the following day they set out with her on the journey to Steep Abbot, cheered by the promise of a visit from Giles and Thomas Newby either on that day or the next.

  Gina was thoughtful as her coachman turned back towards the Isham estate. Time was passing and the month of May was almost upon them. In September, unless she had persuaded Giles to offer for her, she must go to Brighton for a lengthy stay. It left her only this brief summer to overcome his scruples.

  Her conversation with India had confirmed what she suspected. Giles still loved her. His affections were unchanged, but he had given up all hope of winning her. The ruin of their plans had tormented him all these years.

  He must have suffered agonies of mind when he learned that she had married. Colour flooded her cheeks. Perhaps he believed that wealth and a title were all she cared for. That might account for his distant manner towards her. Sometimes it verged on rudeness.

  She straightened her shoulders. He should know her better than that. If he didn’t he was unworthy of her love. She was still the same Gina who had given him her arms, her lips, her heart, all those years ago.

  On arrival at the Grange she was shown into the salon, with a promise that Lady Isham would not keep her waiting above a moment or two.

  She was turning over the pages of the Ladies’ Diary when the door behind her opened. Gina rose to her feet and turned round with a smile to find that Giles was standing in the doorway.

  In that unguarded moment she had the final answer to her doubts. His smile lit up the room as he came towards her with his hands outstretched. Then memory returned and his hands fell to his sides. He gave her a formal bow.

  ‘I beg your pardon, Gina. I was looking for my sister. I did not expect…I mean…’

  ‘India will be down in a short time. I am to help her with her invitations to the charity ball. We thought of the Assembly Rooms…’ Gina’s heart was beating fast.

  Giles managed a faint smile. ‘Such a title dignifies the ballroom at the Angel. What does Anthony say to this?’

  ‘Anthony agrees to anything which will please his wife…’ Lord Isham strolled into the room. ‘Good morning, Gina. I am in your debt, my dear. India will be glad of your help in planning this event.’

  ‘And I am in yours. Mrs Guarding has agreed to take the girls. I saw her yesterday…’

  ‘What did you think of her?’

  ‘I liked her very much.’

  Anthony smiled. ‘I guessed her to be a woman after your own heart. How did you persuade the girls?’

  Gina looked a little guilty. Then she chuckled. ‘Bribery, I fear. I had to promise them extra lessons in the waltz…’ She glanced up at Giles. ‘I hope that you don’t mind. Mr Newby was so quick to offer…’

  Giles bowed again, but he felt as if a sword had been twisted in his heart. Would this torment never end? Now he must watch his love again as she danced in Newby’s arms. To refuse Gina’s invitation would have been impossible without giving offence, especially as Anthony would be sure to override any of his claims to be too busy.

  ‘At what time, ma’am?’ he asked stiffly. ‘Late afternoon, perhaps?’

  Gina nodded and thanked him prettily before she was swept away by India into that lady’s boudoir.

  Isham sank into a chair and stretched out his long legs. ‘Swallowed a poker, have you, Giles?’ he teased. ‘You are mighty formal with an old friend. Poor Gina! She might as well waltz with a broom handle…’

  ‘Anthony…I have neither the time nor the inclination to give dancing lessons…’

  ‘Really?’ The heavy-lidded eyes inspected his face. ‘Most men would jump at such an opportunity. All else aside, one could not wish for a better friend than Gina.’

  ‘Believe me, I know her worth,’ Giles replied in a low voice. ‘Everyone must see it, in fact…’ he swallowed a lump in his throat. ‘In fact, Newby tells me that he intends to offer for her.’

  ‘Does he, indeed? Will she take him, do you think?’

  ‘I don’t know!’ Giles turned away in frustration. ‘He has everything to recommend him, wealth, a noble family…Why should she refuse?’

  ‘She might not care for him enough to wed him.’

  ‘To date that hasn’t been her first consideration,’ Giles said bitterly. ‘She married Whitelaw, didn’t she?’

  Isham was tempted into a sharp retort, but he held back the scathing words. He would not hit a man when that man was down, and Giles was suffering. That was all too clear.

  ‘I think that you do not know the full circumstances,’ he said quietly. ‘Whitelaw offered Gina a marriage of convenience. His wife had died, and he was no longer young. He was concerned about the future of his daughters…’

  Giles was startled out of his black mood. ‘But…but Gina was so young. Why did she agree?’

  ‘Gina is a realist. She has a head upon her shoulders, as well as a kindly heart. She loved the girls, and she was devoted both to Sir Alastair and his wife.’ Isham smiled. ‘I think I told you I was his supporter at the wedding?’

  ‘Yes, I remember…’

  ‘Until I met Gina I had misgivings. What do they say: “There is no fool like an old fool”? I thought that my friend might have been seduced by the charms of a young girl. I changed my mind when I met Gina. She justified Sir Alastair’s faith in her.’

  ‘Then you are telling me that she was never his wife in the true sense?’

  ‘Sir Alastair was old enough to be her father. His girls, he felt, would be charge enough for her, without adding to her burdens by leaving her with children of her own.’

  Giles grew thoughtful. ‘Perhaps I have been wrong about her. It was a shock to see her back in Abbot Quincey under such different circumstances.’

  ‘She is still the girl she was,’ Isham said quietly. He would not pry, but he was pleased to see that Giles now looked more cheerful.

  Meantime Gina was resolved that on this evening in particular, she would refuse to dance. The girls should have the young men to themselves, and she would play for them.

  This worthy resolution was put to the test when Mair came over to the spinet and offered to take her place.

  Gina waved her away, ‘Do you carry on, my dear. I turned my ankle earlier today and it is still quite painful.’

  Mair gave her a sideways look. ‘You haven’t mentioned it before.’

  ‘I had no wish to make a fuss…’

  Then Giles was beside her. ‘Take my arm,’ he said firmly. ‘It’s but a step out to the terrace. Did you not ask for my advice about your grounds?’

  Gina took his arm. She made an unconvincing attempt to hobble, but he stopped her.

  ‘Don’t worry!’ he said quietly. ‘I know that you have no wish to dance with me. I don’t blame you, Gina. I owe you an apology.’

  He cleared his throat, but Gina did not look at him.

  ‘I have misjudged you,’ he went on quickly. ‘I had imagined…Oh, Gina, I have been so bitter! I deserve to be horsewhipped.’

  She heard the anguish in his voice and it destroyed her. Blindly, she reached out a hand to him.

  Then suddenly she was in his arms and he was rai
ning kisses on her brow, her cheeks, her eyes. Lifting her face to his, she offered him her lips.

  Chapter Eight

  For Gina her lover’s passionate embrace wiped away all the years of loss and longing, but the mouth which sought her own rested only briefly on her yielding lips.

  Then Giles’s hands were upon her shoulders holding her away. ‘Forgive me!’ he said hoarsely. ‘I have no right to touch you…no right at all.’

  Gina stared at him. She could not have been more shocked if he had struck her.

  ‘Who has a better right?’ she asked in amazement. ‘Were we not promised to each other? We swore that we would never change…do you remember?’

  ‘I do. Perhaps we have not changed, but our circumstances are different now…’ Giles turned and took a few paces away from her. ‘I have nothing to offer you, Gina…’

  ‘Have I ever asked for anything? All I ever wanted was your love. I thought you felt the same.’

  There was a long silence. ‘We were very young…perhaps too young to understand that love is not enough.’

  Gina looked up at his set face. The shock of rejection had left her feeling stunned. ‘What else is there?’ she asked in wonder. ‘We are both free. How many human beings are offered a second chance of happiness?’

  ‘You don’t understand. I am dependent upon India and Isham for my employment and even the roof over my head…I could not even offer you a home.’

  ‘I see.’ Anger was beginning to overtake despair in Gina’s heart. ‘You believe yourself to be some kind of a remittance man, living upon the charity of others?’

  Giles did not reply.

  ‘Do you claim that you give nothing in return?’ she demanded inexorably. ‘You must think your brother-in-law a fool. Would he entrust India’s estate to an incompetent? I think not. Anthony thinks highly of your skills.’

  ‘That may be true, but it doesn’t alter anything. It may be years before I can make my own way in the world…’

  Their eyes locked and Gina’s hopes plummeted. He would not ask her to wait, and they both knew it.

  ‘You can’t think much of my constancy,’ she accused.

  ‘I think it is misplaced.’ Giles could not trust himself to touch her. ‘Sit down, Gina, you must listen to me…You will marry again…and to someone who can offer you what I cannot…’

  Gina’s anger rose. ‘How dare you presume to plan my life for me? I won’t have it, Giles.’ She left his side and began to pace about the terrace. ‘In all these years I never thought you a coward. Apparently, I was mistaken…’

  ‘Perhaps you’d care to explain that statement.’ Giles had gone pale. Now his anger matched her own.

  ‘How else shall I describe a man who fears the opinion of the world? What is it that troubles you, the gossip, the sly asides, the envy of those who wished to wed a wealthy widow?’

  ‘You dismiss your fortune lightly, Gina.’

  ‘No, I don’t. It’s there, and it can’t be dismissed, but it is no substitute for love. Oh, my dear, what else can be so important to you?’

  ‘I don’t fear gossip, Gina, as you seem to think. The opinion of the world is not of the slightest interest to me. If we were to wed my good sense would be applauded. Is it not the ambition of many men to seek their fortune in a splendid marriage? We see it every day. It is not my way…’

  ‘Then it is just your stiff-necked pride? Perhaps I should take a leaf out of your book. I seem to have abandoned my own…’

  Giles heard the bitterness in her voice. ‘Don’t, I beg of you!’ he said gently. ‘Let us not strip each other of all dignity…’

  When she did not answer he came to stand before her. ‘I’m sorry that you think ill of me,’ he said. ‘I would have it otherwise, but it cannot be…’ Then he bowed. ‘Shall we return to the others?’

  He heard a muffled refusal, and sensing that she was close to breaking point he walked away, leaving her to recover her self-control without the irritation of his presence.

  Gina stared across the darkening garden. Suddenly everything about her seemed insubstantial and almost dreamlike. The hurt of rejection had wounded her to the heart and the agony was too deep for tears.

  Shaken by the violence of their quarrel, she tried to blot out the memory of those bitter words, but the recollection of her own humiliation could not be erased. She had thrown herself at Giles, begging for his love, only to be refused. It had stung her into unforgivable words of reproach, and now, finally, she knew that her long-held plans had come to nothing.

  She was unaware that the music had stopped until Thomas came to find her. Statue-like, she was still gazing into space, oblivious of her surroundings.

  ‘Lady Whitelaw?’

  Gina did not answer.

  ‘Lady Whitelaw, is something wrong?’ Thomas was all concern. ‘You have a headache, perhaps? Is there anything I can do?’

  Gina shook her head, unaware that the tears had come at last and were pouring down her cheeks unchecked.

  ‘Oh, my dear…Lady Whitelaw…Gina…pray don’t distress yourself. Shall I ask Mair to come to you?’

  Wordlessly, Gina shook her head. Then somehow Thomas was beside her, with an arm about her shoulders. He drew her to him, resting her head against his chest.

  He didn’t question her again, waiting patiently until the storm of tears had spent itself.

  ‘You must think me foolish,’ she gasped at last. ‘Pray don’t mention this to the girls. Where are they, by the way?’ She looked about her and was relieved to see that she and Thomas were alone.

  ‘Giles wished to show them his new mare,’ Thomas assured her. ‘He did not mention that you were…unwell…He said merely that you wished for a little air.’

  Gina managed a weak smile. ‘He was right, Mr Newby. I found it rather stuffy in the salon…’

  ‘We have been thoughtless, ma’am. We take advantage of your good nature in allowing you to play for us for hours at a time.’

  ‘But I have not played so much this evening,’ she protested. ‘Besides it is a pleasure…’

  ‘Perhaps so, ma’am, but you must take care not to overtire yourself.’ He pulled out a large handkerchief and began to dab at her cheeks. ‘You do far too much for others. It is not always wise…’

  With her nerves stretched to breaking-point Gina didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at his solemn expression. It sat oddly on that normally cheerful face with its snub nose, round cheeks and the dusting of freckles.

  ‘Let me ring for your maid, at least,’ he begged. ‘We shall none of us think it strange if you should care to retire…’

  Gina was almost tempted into a sharp retort. She was longing to tell him not to fuss, but she caught herself in time. She must not allow her own exasperation to cloud the fact that Thomas intended only to be kind. It was just that his solicitude threatened to drive her mad.

  What was the matter with her? It seemed that she was never satisfied. Giles had rejected her whilst Thomas had made his adoration clear. Now she longed only for both of them to go away. She needed time and solitude to recover her equilibrium.

  Thomas continued to pat her hand, but she drew it quickly from his grasp as the others came to join them.

  Elspeth was too excited about the new mare to notice anything amiss. ‘Oh, Gina, she is beautiful and Giles has called her Star. He says that she has Arab blood…Will you let me ride her sometimes, Giles? She must go like the wind.’

  ‘She does, but she’d be too strong for you, my dear. She’s a skittish creature at the best of times…’

  ‘She did seem nervous,’ Elspeth admitted. She glanced up at the sky. ‘Do you think she can sense a storm?’ Even as she spoke they heard the first rumblings of thunder in the distance. The sky had grown livid, but Gina was glad of the darkening light. It would hide her ravaged face.

  She rose to her feet as a flash of lightning lit the garden. Then Thomas urged them to go indoors.

  ‘I’m not surprised that you felt the ne
ed of air, Lady Whitelaw. The atmosphere is so oppressive…’

  Gina gave him a grateful look. He had given her an excuse for her long absence from the others, and Mair had accepted it, though her eyes still rested anxiously on Gina’s face.

  Then Giles bowed to her. ‘Will you excuse us if we get back to the Grange at once,’ he said.

  ‘Of course!’ Gina’s tone was formal. ‘If you hurry, you may escape the worst of what I fear will be a deluge.’

  As they took their leave of her, Thomas drew her to one side.

  ‘I’ll call on you tomorrow, if I may, ma’am.’

  Gina managed a faint smile. ‘You are always welcome, Mr Newby.’

  ‘I’m glad to hear it.’ His face lit up, but he was blushing. ‘I shall want to know how you go on, Lady Whitelaw…’ For once his easy manner had deserted him, and Giles was aware of it.

  On the journey home he asked no questions, dreading what he might hear. Had Thomas seized the opportunity to offer for Gina? They had been alone in the garden for some time. He stole a sideways glance at his friend, but Thomas was preoccupied.

  A moment’s reflection convinced him that Gina could not have accepted his companion. Thomas would have been unable to contain his joy. Perhaps he had changed his mind.

  At length the suspense was too much for him to bear.

  ‘You are very quiet,’ he observed. ‘Is something wrong?’

  Thomas gave him a shy smile. ‘Far from it, old son. I’ve made up my mind, you know. I asked Gina if I might call on her tomorrow. I intend to ask her to be my wife.’

  Giles felt that it behoved him to say something…anything…but the words would not come.

  ‘Now you are quiet, Giles. Do you disapprove?’

  ‘How could I? We agreed, did we not, that Gina would be sure to marry again? You have so much to offer her.’

  ‘Then you’ll wish me luck? I ain’t much of a catch, I fear. Gina could do much better, but I think she likes me, and I would look after her.’

  ‘I’m sure of it.’ Giles turned his face away, feeling that his expression must be ghastly.