Eynsford remained lounging in the embrasure of the window for some moments longer, savoring the well-being he felt. Presently, he reentered the ballroom, but he did not seek out Lady Morgan. There could be no reason to distress her further in public, and any particular attention he paid her might cause the gossip they both disliked so much. Instead, refraining from dancing with any of the hopeful misses whose mothers eyed him wistfully, he rejoined the Regent’s party. This gentleman behaved most condescendingly by staying at the Strancaster’s ball for quite an hour, and when he left, Eynsford departed also, to return home and contemplate a visit to Lady Morgan’s house to declare his feelings as soon as possible.
Chapter 26
Letitia rejoined the party with a placid countenance covering a severe agitation of spirit. She seated herself again with the dowagers, and tried to take the same pleasure she had previously in their concerns and conversation, but to no avail. She could not stop herself from fretting about her situation.
How inappropriate her friendship with Mr. Markham now appeared to her! She had allowed herself to engage on the easiest of terms with a gentleman who had not been properly introduced to her, and she was being repaid for her carelessness. She blushed furiously. How did her behavior look to him? A widow of only a few months allowing a gentleman she barely knew to call on her, then taking him as a lover after exposing her worries and fears to him. Letty’s distress was growing extreme when Isobel found a few moments leisure to join her friend.
“Oh, what a dreadful squeeze!” she exclaimed, dropping onto the settee next to Letty. “I declare one can barely walk or dance for the press of people.”
“All the world knows that is a requirement for a truly successful ball, Isobel,” returned Letitia, attempting to smile. “The papers will declare it the event of the Season, and no one will talk of anything else for at least three days.”
“You were finally obliged to make the acquaintance of the Marquess of Eynsford,” observed Isobel with a sly smile. “Did you not find him astonishingly handsome?”
“He is very handsome indeed. But Isobel, it was not the first time that I met him,” Letty answered with a shamefaced look that went unnoticed by Isobel.
“Well, to be sure you danced with him seven years ago, and recollected him not, which I can scarcely believe when one considers what an amazingly beautiful gentleman he is, but that is of no account,” she said.
“Isobel, you do not understand me,” countered Letty in hushed but anxious tones. “I am very well acquainted with Eynsford, but I did not know him for a marquess. I know him as Mr. Markham, a respectable young solicitor.”
Isobel stared at Letitia, completely agog. A moment or two passed as she struggled to regain the power of speech.
“Eynsford represented himself to you as a solicitor?” she inquired in shocked accents, then looked around, making sure they were not overheard, and lowered her voice. “Your mysterious friend is Eynsford? I can barely credit it, Letty. He must be mad.” Isobel looked at Letitia again, and then continued slowly, “Or very, very much in love.”
Letitia ignored this speculation. “Isobel, I have behaved badly. I allowed myself to converse on the friendliest terms with a gentleman of whom I knew nearly nothing, and who was not properly introduced to me, and now I am well served. I am so ashamed of myself that I do not know how to even think. I am quite sunk by it. What must he think of me?”
“It seems clear that he must think very well of you indeed, Letty, to go to such trouble. Only fancy, Eynsford masquerading as a solicitor. It is really very funny, or would be if only you did not find it so distressing,” she added hastily, as Letitia appeared to be beyond finding humor in the situation. “Still, it is a great deal too bad of him. He has really behaved shockingly to have deceived you in such a way. I cannot like it.”
Isobel clearly would have continued, but a large dowager in an imposing costume of purple satin, with a headdress ornamented by several lofty plumes was forging towards them, a severe look on her strong-featured face. Isobel glanced up at her, and grimaced, then wiping the expression of dismay from her face, pinned a sociable smile to it instead.
“Here is the dowager Countess of Marford, come to tax me with some fault, no doubt. We cannot speak freely of this now. I will visit you tomorrow afternoon, but I probably cannot be there early, as I doubt I will be abed before six o’clock,” she said.
Letty blinked at her, still dazed, and Isobel patted her hand. “Do not be thinking the whole time of your failings, Letty, you need feel no blame in this matter. And, pray, do not think too harshly of Eynsford until you know why he has acted so peculiarly. Ah, good evening, Lady Marford, I hope that you are finding everything to your liking. How does your grandson go on? I believe that the last time I saw you he was recovering from the chicken pox,” said Isobel, rising with the skill of a veteran hostess to take the Countess’ arm, deflecting her from her course towards the sofa on which Letitia still sat.
Letitia left the ball very shortly thereafter, and Isobel watched her departure with worried eyes, but could not abandon her social obligations to speak further with her friend. Isobel realized later that she had probably behaved rather oddly for the rest of the evening, for her thoughts were so much occupied by the astonishing behavior of the Marquess of Eynsford, that she often had to ask someone to repeat a remark, or answered a comment addressed to her quite at random. Fortunately, such lapses could largely be accounted for by the crowds and noise at the ball.
Eventually, the last of the guests departed Strancaster house as the summer dawn was just beginning to streak the eastern sky, and Lord and Lady Exencour were able to prepare for bed. Isobel had just dismissed her dresser and sat wrapped in a sea foam green lace wrapper, her auburn curls tumbling about her shoulders. She was pondering the strange circumstances that Letty had related to her, when the door from Francis’ dressing room opened and he emerged, clad in a gorgeously printed silk dressing gown. Isobel felt the familiar rush of desire that his attractive figure always engendered in her, and rose to receive his embrace.
“An excellent festivity, Isobel,” he remarked, holding her close. “I marvel at the charming ends which are achieved when you bring the same degree of intelligence to the planning of social occasions which you lavish on your archaeological studies. The results were breathtaking.”
Isobel smiled, but shook her head. “I thank you for the compliment, my love, but all that is as nothing. You will scarcely credit what I have to say, but Letitia has just told me the most astonishing thing. Eynsford has been visiting her, disguised as a solicitor.” She gazed at Francis, awaiting his reaction.
“I know,” he replied tranquilly.
“You know? How could you know? Letty only found out this evening at the ball, when Eynsford appeared with Prinny. Did Phillip tell you?” she asked.
“Why no, my dear. I guessed,” Francis said mildly.
“You knew that Eynsford was practicing such a deception upon poor Letty and you did not tell me or her of it? I cannot believe it of you, Francis,” Isobel said heatedly.
“Isobel, it was you who first wished to promote a match between the two of them,” he responded in a calm tone, which contrasted sharply with hers. “I felt that unmasking him would do Phillip’s courtship no good, and possibly much ill.”
She was silent for a few moments, considering this. “Do you believe that he is courting her, Francis? When she told me of the situation, I own I could only think that Eynsford must be very much in love to go to such lengths, and lower himself so to pursue Letty.”
“I don’t think that a courtship was Phillip's original intention. He had formed the notion of marrying a chit straight from the schoolroom; a cold-blooded plan, as I told him at the time. Letitia was then only a half remembered dream that teased at him,” replied Francis thoughtfully.
“It is of no great importance what his original intentions were,” said Isobel abstractedly. “The important question is how are we to bring the matte
r to a successful conclusion?”
“We are not, my love. They must be left to their own devices. They succeeded in becoming friends in the face of your inaction,
Isobel, and I can only believe that two sensible adults must be capable of deciding if they will suit without your assistance also.” Francis said this in a casual tone, but Isobel knew from his expression that he earnestly hoped she would remain aloof from the situation.
“Very well, Francis, I take your point. I will not meddle uninvited. But Letty has already shared her distress over Eynsford's behavior with me and I have told her than I will call tomorrow to discuss what is to be done.”
“There can be no harm in comforting your friend, and providing the benefit of your advice, Isobel. But I don’t think either of us should attempt to promote the match. There was a time when you would not have thanked Letty for trying to make a match for you; you must respect her feelings now. Depend on it, if they are meant to be wed, they will find a way, even if it takes Eynsford as long to court Letty as it took me to persuade you.”
Isobel had to laugh ruefully at this speech, for she had indeed resisted her lord through three proposals and across the length and breadth of the kingdom. Francis smiled down at her and stopped her laughter with an ardent kiss. Sweeping her up in his arms he carried her to their shadowed bed, and Letitia's situation was soon banished from her thoughts.
Chapter 27
The next morning, both Eynsford and Lady Morgan were awake long before the Exencours stirred between their lace-trimmed bed linens. Letitia, as always, had much to do in caring for her children and household, so she had the comfort of routine to steady her, despite her anxieties about her acquaintance with the supposed Mr. Markham.
Eynsford, however, was at the mercy of his emotions, and vexed Boothby nearly to tears by ruining no fewer than four neckcloths before declaring himself satisfied. He was as careful with the remainder of his attire, and his valet did at length have the satisfaction of seeing the Marquess leave his hands as perfectly turned out as any gentleman's gentleman could hope for.
After an unusually light breakfast Eynsford had his curricle brought round, and Chisholm was startled to find that they were driving to Kensington with the Marquess dressed as gentleman of fashion, rather than an aspiring solicitor.
“A mighty fine turn out for visiting Kensington, my lord,” Chisholm said, his grin audible in his words.
“Boothby was pleased with my appearance Chisholm, I hope that you will also find me a credit to you,” the Marquess replied.
“As to that, there’s not a gentleman in the kingdom who handles the ribbons better than you my lord. But you might spook the lady, coming to visit her in all this state, she being a shy sort of filly, as you might say.”
“Chisholm, I recognize that your long service with me requires me to overlook much, but I really must ask you not to speak in such a way of the future Lady Eynsford,” his master responded.
Chisholm lapsed into an astonished silence, but Eynsford, who felt as though he could hear the groom thinking, merely smiled to himself. He had no doubts that his suit would prosper, and occupied his thoughts during the drive with happy visions of a loving and delighted Letitia.
Nellie was very surprised to see Mr. Markham appear on the doorstep so magnificently attired, and even more astonished when he presented his card. Since she showed no signs of immediately recalling her duties, Eynsford said, “I’ll show myself up,” and left her goggling in the hall.
A few moments thought had reminded Eynsford that Letty had forbidden him to call, and he was reasonably certain that if presented with his card she would declare herself not at home. Opening the door of the morning room, he found Letitia at her desk, head bowed over her account books. Eynsford, knowing of her financial worries, found this sight very touching, and stood for a moment, gazing at the picture she made as the morning sun created a halo around her flaxen curls. He longed to banish her cares, and see her anxious expression replaced with laughter. After a few seconds, she looked up and turned towards the door, obviously expecting a member of her staff. Briefly, her mouth formed an ‘O’ of surprise, then a smile flitted across her face, to be replaced instantly by a look of deep distress. She rose from her chair.
“Lord Eynsford, last night I requested that you not call here again. I beg that you will leave,” she said with dignity.
“My dear Lady Morgan, I know that you are angry with me, but
think you have misunderstood me,” he replied.
“There is no misunderstanding, my lord. You have misrepresented yourself to me. I do not care to continue an acquaintance with a person behaving so. I must ask again that you leave.”
“You have misunderstood me, because I have misunderstood myself. I represented myself as a solicitor because I remembered your beauty and charm. I was piqued by your refusal to meet me again, and determined that I would do so, whether you wished it or not. But my continued visits led me to hold you in an increasing regard, and I have long regretted the falsehood on which our friendship was founded.”
“I can assure you that you do not regret it half so deeply as
“Lord Eynsford,” responded Letty with unmistakable annoyance. “It is unfortunate that, knowing my feelings about gentlemen of fashion, you chose not to respect them. However, I am the one most at fault here, for I was careless, and longed for the comfort of a trusted friend. Isobel told me that I must begin as I meant to go on, and at the first opportunity, I have allowed myself to be taken in like the veriest fool. I am bitterly ashamed of my behavior, and your presence in my house only serves to remind me of my folly.”
At the end of this self-critical speech, Letty's emotional distress was plain. Eynsford, who felt forcibly how much grief his originally light-hearted masquerade had caused her, was overcome, and crossed the room to her, grasping her hands in his.
“Lady Morgan, the error is mine, but upon my word, I had no intention of distressing you so. It was a crass folly on my part to impose on you, but I have now realized that what I feel for you is admiration and love. Letitia, will you marry me and make me the happiest of men?”
Letty turned very pale. She loved Mr. Markham, she knew, but what were her feelings for the Marquess of Eynsford? His reputation was one of a haughty and disagreeable man, he was on great terms with the dissolute and unreliable Prince Regent, he had deliberately deceived her over a period of months; Letitia considered these facts and her resolve hardened.
“Lord Eynsford, I am well acquainted with the unhappiness which can result in a marriage when deception is the basis for relations between the parties,” she remarked calmly. “I do not choose to enter into another such.”
“You cannot think that I would be a husband like Lord Morgan,” said the Marquess in a surprised voice. “I think you know me better than that.”
“But I do not know you at all, Lord Eynsford,” was the reply. “Isobel assures me that you are an excellent friend, but I have had experience of gentlemen who are delightful friends and dreadful husbands. As the Marquess of Eynsford, I have seen you but once, when you were in the company of the Prince Regent, and only respect for his position prevents further comment. I had a high regard for Mr. Markham, but all that must now be finished. I have little reason to believe that you are one in whom I may safely place my trust, and that of my children.”
Eynsford heard her out, astounded. He dropped her hands and stood gazing seriously into her lovely countenance. “You have made your feelings very plain, Lady Morgan, and I now only wish that my folly hadn’t blinded you to the reality of my regard and love for you. I regret our entire acquaintance if it has led to this. But do not refuse me, I beg, without telling me how I can begin again, and earn your trust.”
“Lord Eynsford, there is nothing that I can tell you. I am distressed beyond words by this entire business, and only ask you again to leave me in peace. I am not yet even one year widowed; for me to encourage your attentions in any way would be quite imprope
r. I wish only to manage my house, rear my children and find tranquility. All I ask of you is that you respect my feelings in the future as you have not in the past.”
As she spoke, Letty crossed the sitting room and opened the door. Good manners demanded that Eynsford follow her lead, and he moved to the doorway.
“If you insist, Lady Morgan, I will obey your commands,” he said. “Please accept my sincerest apologies for any and all offenses that may be laid at my door. I regret them deeply, and hope you will remember that I am at all times your servant to command.”
Eynsford took her hand, and pressed a far from casual kiss to her fingers, and strode from the room. In the hallway the maid handed him his hat, her eyes growing wide at his stormy countenance.
Unsmilingly, he marched to his curricle, now pulled up respectably in front of Lady Morgan’s home, rather than lurking in the park. Chisholm cast one look at the marquess’ face, and pressed his lips together. So, the lady had a mind of her own, he thought. Well, his lordship had more women falling at his feet than was good for him. Perhaps it would do him no harm to be shown that he could not always have his way.
Letty closed the morning room door, and stood leaning against it. She did not know what to think; Eynsford’s proposal had astonished her. Although she had passed an unquiet night worrying about the revelation of Mr. Markham’s identity, she had not expected the Marquess to offer her marriage the next morning. Tears forced themselves from under her eyelids. She had lost Mr. Markham, and his friendship would not be replaced. Under Lord Eynsford’s exquisite dress and air of fashion, she had not been able to detect the sensible and agreeable man who had befriended her in Kensington Gardens, and been the exciting lover of a few stolen afternoons.
An Indecent Charade: Letitia's After Dark Regency Romance Page 17