“Yes, my lady,” said the maid. “If you will excuse me, my lady,” she continued, “you have a visitor.”
“Goodness,” said Letitia. “No more visitors, please. Tell whoever it is that I am not at home.”
But her unwelcome guest was not to be denied. The door to the room opened and the Bishop of Mainwaring entered.
“Lady Morgan!” he said. “You will forgive me for intruding, but I have important news for you. I am sure you will wish to hear it.”
Letitia sighed. At the maid's questioning glance, she nodded a dismissal. She was certain that the bishop would not depart until he had unburdened himself of whatever it was that he wished to tell her.
“You are unwell,” said Dr. Wolfe. “I am sorry for that, but I must continue. I have most distressing news for you.”
“I cannot imagine what you may wish to relate to me, Dr. Wolfe, but pray do not keep me in suspense,” said Letitia. “What news is this?”
“I hesitate to tell you for fear that your nerves will be shattered,” said the bishop. “Will you not allow me to send for some smelling salts in the event that you feel faint?”
Only a few minutes before Letitia had thought that she might not laugh again for weeks, but this suggestion brought a smile to her lips. “Thank you, Dr. Wolfe,” she said, “but I assure you I will not faint. Please tell me why you came here.”
The bishop paused, a look of excitement on his face. “Your friend Mr. Markham is not a solicitor,” he announced. “He is the Marquess of Eynsford.”
Letitia gazed at him in astonishment and fought back an hysterical urge to laugh at the anti-climactic nature of his communication. The bishop, however, interpreted her silence as denial. Seating himself next to her, he possessed himself of one of her hands.
“I know you are devastated by this information,” he said. “But I can assure you that I am correct. I saw the Marquess of Eynsford at the Strancaster ball yesterday evening, and although he was dressed very differently than when I saw him last, I can assure you that he was indeed Mr. Markham. He is a difficult man to forget.”
“Dr. Wolfe, I--” began Letitia, but the bishop cut her off.
“Do not attempt to argue with me, Lady Morgan,” he continued. “I can assure you that I am certain of my information. I wish you had heeded my warning some days ago, when I let you know that I felt there was something not quite right about your Mr. Markham. This is what comes of relying on the advice of Lady Exencour and trusting your own feelings; it is far better to be under the guidance of a man. You have been sadly deceived, but I am here to aid you now.”
“I do not need your assistance, Dr. Wolfe,” said Letitia. “I am perfectly capable of attending to my own affairs.”
“I must admire your spirit, Lady Morgan,” said Dr. Wolfe. “But I cannot allow you to take this upon your shoulders. The original fault, that of being friendly with someone you had not been properly introduced to, is yours, but I put it down to an over-trusting nature, which is, of course, not to be despised in a female. I put myself at your disposal; this villain must be called to account.”
Letitia gave him a worried frown. “Do not put yourself out, Dr. Wolfe,” she said. “There is nothing to be done in this circumstance.”
“Surely you will not allow this insult to go unpunished?” asked Dr. Wolfe.
“And how do you propose to punish it?” asked Letitia, a hint of impatience in her voice. “Will you call him out?”
A frown appeared on the bishop's forehead. “Of course I would do nothing so ill-bred; dueling has long been illegal, and I would not care to indulge in such ugly behavior. But certainly he must be brought to book. If this were known he would surely be castigated by his peers for his treatment of you.”
Letitia felt a sense of panic rising in her throat. “Dr. Wolfe, you must do nothing,” she said urgently. “If this were known it would not be the Marquess who would suffer. It is I who would become a laughing stock and possibly be considered a woman of low morals. Lord Eynsford would suffer little, if at all. You must tell no one of this.”
“Allay your fears, Lady Morgan,” replied the bishop. “The matter is delicate, but I will handle it skillfully.”
Letitia felt increasingly desperate, for she felt certain that her notions of delicacy and the bishop's diverged widely. “Please, say nothing of this, Dr. Wolfe. You must consider my reputation.”
“But I have, my dear,” soothed the bishop. “No one will have anything to say against you when they know we are affianced. Indeed, Eynsford's actions will seem doubly perfidious when it is seen he was attempting to deceive another man's intended bride.”
Letitia realized that she was staring at him with her mouth ajar. She shut it with a snap. “We are not engaged, Dr. Wolfe,” she said.
“Perhaps we are not, but we soon shall be, and so it makes little difference. I have been sure for some days now that I wished to wed you; indeed, I knew before I met you, based on Bainstall's recommendation, that you would make me an excellent wife. I am now doubly glad that I can offer you the protection of my name.”
“I do not need the protection of your name, sir,” said Letitia.
“Come, come, Lady Morgan, we are both aware of your circumstances. It is very clear to me that you are in need of a man’s guiding hand. As I am in need of a mother for my children, we shall deal very well together. I am glad indeed that I am here now to save you from the impropriety of your own actions.”
“I do not wish to marry you, Dr. Wolfe,” said Letitia, her voice strained. “I ask only that you do not reveal this appalling story to anybody.”
“But you must marry somebody, Lady Morgan,” said the Bishop, bewilderment in his voice.
“If I wished to wed, I could have married Lord Eynsford!” snapped Letitia. “I did not choose to marry him, and I do not choose to marry you. Please leave me now.”
“Eynsford has offered for you?” asked the Bishop in alarm.
“He did me that honor earlier today,” said Letitia, a sarcastic note in her voice. “So you see, Dr. Wolfe, I have more men wishing to protect my honor than I can reasonably manage.”
“I must say I am confused by your levity, Lady Morgan,” said the Bishop. “This is a very serious situation. Eynsford may have acted more handsomely than I expected in offering for you, but I think you and I are the better match. A man of his type would not make a satisfactory husband, I assure you. He would doubtless leave you all too often to your own devices, allowing you opportunities for idleness. I, on the contrary, would be constantly guiding your thoughts and actions, which I am sure you would find preferable.”
Letitia contemplated this appalling picture with horror for an instant, then folded her hands in her lap. She realized that the Bishop was unlikely to be distracted by rational argument, and so she decided to attempt blunt refusal. “Dr. Wolfe, you do me a great honor in proposing marriage, but I cannot accept you,” she said. “Please do me the favor of leaving me alone. I do not feel at all well.”
The bishop looked at her consideringly. “Perhaps you are right, Lady Morgan,” he said. “I should not have put my suit before you so soon after I delivered such a shock to your nerves. You are doubtless uncomfortable and unhappy, particularly after having been importuned by Lord Eynsford’s attentions. So I will leave, but I will not withdraw my proposal. I am sure that your refusal is simply a matter of confusion, and you will wish to reconsider your answer.”
“I have no intention of considering any of the proposals made to me today,” replied Letitia firmly. “I wish to be left alone to deal with my own problems in my own way.”
“Tut, tut,” said the bishop. “I can see you are quite overwrought. I will leave you so that you may compose yourself. But I will certainly call on you again soon. And if I should encounter Lord Eynsford, be assured that I will give him a severe set-down. His behavior has been most reprehensible.”
Dr. Wolfe exited with a bow, and Letitia fell back on the sofa with a sigh. She felt
more exhausted than ever and was not at all certain as to whether she wished to laugh or cry. To have received two proposals of marriage in one day was quite a remarkable experience. She could only hope it never happened again. She rang for the maid; that cold compress would be most welcome now.
Chapter 31
Letitia found the week after the disturbing revelations about Mr. Markham’s identity trying. She was sitting in her drawing room one afternoon, fretting over his perfidy, when Nellie opened the door and Isobel swept in with a flurry of silk. Pausing to drop a kiss on her cheek, she seated herself across from her friend.
“Letty, I feel a wretch for not having visited you these past days. But Francis and I leave for Scotland in a fortnight, and the preparations are more than I can trust the servants to manage without some supervision. At times like this I miss dear Harriet immensely, for she was always such a help and had such a way with the packing. Indeed, I scarcely know what we took in years past, and must spend hours making lists.”
Letitia put down her embroidery and smiled. “You can’t worry about me constantly, Isobel. But it is just as well you were not here yesterday, for Dr. Wolfe visited, and it would have been very trying for you to have encountered him.”
“No more trying than it was for you, I’m sure! After all, he is not seeking to marry me. I don’t suppose you have managed to discourage him?”
Letty laughed. “He seems to believe his proposal will be accepted at any time, and stops here with alarming frequency in order to provide me with an opportunity to inform him of my change of heart.”
Isobel gave her a sidelong glance. “And you have had no change of heart toward your other suitor?”
Letitia gave looked down at her hands, which were clasped in her lap. “Lord Eynsford—” she hesitated for it seemed odd to refer to him by that name. “Lord Eynsford sent his card up a number of times, but I refused to see him. He also sent a very pretty posey of white roses, and a note of apology.”
“Very proper,” ventured Isobel.
“Perhaps if he had stepped on my toes while dancing,” said Letty, with a touch of humor. “But it hardly makes up for concealing his identity and imposing on my friendship!”
“But what more do you expect?” protested Isobel. “It is not as though he can do anything other than tell you how much he regrets his actions.”
“He tried,” allowed Letty. “A package arrived that contained a new cricket bat for James. Truly, Isobel, it is not fair of him to attempt to appeal to me through my children! James would have been thrilled with the gift, and I felt horrid when I rejected it. I sent it back with a request that he cease to importune me.”
“And has he?” asked Isobel.
“I received another note of apology, and nothing since,” said Letty, feeling a twinge of something—not regret, she assured herself.
Isobel glanced at her face, and decided it would be best not to tease her on the subject. “You must do as you think fit, Letty. While I wish you could forgive him, it is not possible for me to defend his actions.”
“I should think not,” said Letty firmly.
“London will be terribly warm in a few weeks, and sadly empty of company,” Isobel said, deciding a change of topic was in order. “Would you and the children like to join us in Scotland? My cottage could hold us all, or if you want more space and a proper nursery, Harriet would be only too pleased to host you at Glencairn Castle, now that she is the countess. You know how she loves children.”
Letitia pondered the invitation, knowing that the green countryside of Scotland would be healthier and more appealing to James and Emily than London in the heat of the summer. She would also enjoy Isobel and Harriet’s company, as well as not having to worry about managing her house for a few weeks. But she shook her head.
“I cannot impose on you so, and you will be attending parties and entertaining guests, while I am still in half mourning. I don’t want to cast a pall over your amusements.”
“As though you cast a pall over anything!” Isobel leaned over and placed her hand on Letty’s. “Please, to humor me?”
“Isobel, you will have your excavation to manage, and Francis will want to fish and visit with his friends. You cannot possibly want two small children in your home. Perhaps next year, when I am out of mourning, we will join you. But for now, I think we are better off here in London, where we can be quiet and peaceful.”
“I promise not to invite Lord Eynsford to Scotland,” said Isobel, a gleam of humor in her eye.
A reluctant laugh was wrung from Letitia. “Indeed, I had thought of that, as you clearly perceived. But truly, you have done so much for me already, Isobel. You and Francis deserve some time together without worrying about me. I shall do very well here, and I promise not to make friends of any other unknown gentlemen in your absence!”
“Well, I suppose I mustn’t trouble further you with my pleadings,” said Isobel. “But, if you reconsider, let me know. We don’t leave for some days, so I will engage myself to visit you every day until then!”
“That will be very welcome,” said Letitia. “My afternoons are sadly lonely since—” she broke off.
“Since you have lost Mr. Markham?” asked Isobel sympathetically.
“I never had Mr. Markham,” Letitia observed. “But yes, please visit as often as you please before you travel to Scotland.”
Chapter 32
Isobel was as good as her word, and visited Letitia regularly during the next two weeks, doing much to lift Letty’s spirits as she strove to put Mr. Markham behind her. One morning shortly before Isobel was to depart, a note arrived begging Letitia to come to Lady Exencour’s home. “For everything here is a frightful tangle, and I must stay and supervise, but I long for your company. Please come for tea, I beg of you!” the letter pleaded.
Letty hesitated over her response, but decided it could do no harm to leave Kensington for a few hours. For the past several days she had scarcely left her house, not wanting to encounter the marquess, but she felt a change in her routine might be refreshing. She penned a response to Isobel, then went upstairs to change her dress. When she emerged some time later, she was charmingly clad in a soft gray muslin dress, with three rows of lace trim at the hem, lifted with light yellow ribbons. She wore over it a matching pale yellow spencer, with grey closings and a high neck with a small ruff.
After informing Violet of her intentions and saying good-bye to Emily and Jamie, Lettie sallied forth in the carriage Isobel had sent for her, feeling a bit uncertain. But the warmth of the afternoon and the beauty of the early summer lulled her into a state of contentment, and even the noise of the city could not ruin her mood. Perhaps, she thought hopefully, she was beginning to move beyond her regrets over the events of the previous weeks.
Isobel met Letitia in the hall of Strancaster House before she even had time to remove her pretty chip hat.
“Thank you so much for coming here, my dear,” she said. “I longed to see you, but so much must go on ahead of us, and Francis is of no help at all. He tells me he cannot imagine why I must send so many dresses when I’m sure to spend all my days in my oldest gowns, covered with dust as I supervise the workmen at my excavation. But there will be parties at Glencairn and elsewhere in the neighborhood, and one must dress!”
Letitia laughed and returned her hug. “I’m sure you will have a lovely time, both with your work and your parties,” she said.
“Oh, how I wish you would come with us,” said Isobel as she led her friend up the stairs to the sitting room. “It would be such fun. You’ve never seen Dargenwater Cottage, and you would love it so!”
“But it is also very small, and I have two young children,” said Letty. “You and Francis will hardly wish us to be underfoot night and day.”
The ladies seated themselves, and Isobel poured tea. “I am so thirsty,” she complained. “Preparing to leave is such work that I wonder we go anywhere at all! Perhaps you are right about the cottage, Letty, but Glencairn is less tha
n a mile away. Please at least consider changing your mind. A word from you at any time and I will send a carriage for you!”
“I know,” said Letitia. “But, some quiet will be good for me. The last few months have been trying, and some boredom sounds appealing. First Alfred died, then I had to pack up Morgan Place, and find a home here. I proceeded to unwisely launch into an affaire with a man I barely knew, who was revealed to be not a solicitor, but a marquess. The whole thing is ludicrous if one stops to think about it for even a moment.”
Isobel smiled reluctantly. “I suppose you must feel that way. Letty, I cannot tell you too many times how sorry I am that Eynsford imposed upon you. He has not dared to show his face here, but I will give him a piece of my mind as soon as I see him.”
“You had nothing to do with it,” said Letty firmly. “If you’d had any suspicion you would have told me, and as for Exencour—well, he could have no idea to what lengths and with what speed our friendship would progress. I have no one to blame but myself.”
Isobel passed her a plate of cakes. “Still, I cannot be comfortable about it. I could strangle the man; he truly is kind and amusing, and if he had simply been able to wait, the two of you might have formed a real attachment. But he had to go bumbling about like a fool.”
An Indecent Charade: Letitia's After Dark Regency Romance Page 19