Miss Delacourt Speaks Her Mind

by Heidi Ashworth

  “Ginny” He spread his hands in supplication and took a stumbling step toward her, the unyielding Lucinda still clutching him round the neck. “There is more to this than you think. That is, less has happened than you suppose.”

  “Exactly what is it I have supposed to have happened?” Ginny never received an answer, for just then a door was heard to open down the hall.

  Sir Anthony and Lucinda shot each other an intense look. “Avery!” Sir Anthony said, renewing his efforts to put some distance between himself and Lucinda.

  “Eustace!” Lucinda cried, pressing her cheek to Sir Anthony’s and locking her arms behind his neck at the elbows.

  Ginny slammed shut the door and went to head off Lord Avery.

  “Miss Delacourt,” he said, “what are you doing here? Ah, that is, at this time of night. Thought you were sleeping.”

  Miserable, Ginny tried to ignore the sounds of a struggle coming through the door. “Yes, but I woke up. There was a noise, cats fighting, I think.”

  Lord Avery was having none of it. “Cats! In Crenshaw’s room?” Then he flung open the door, allowing him a full view of Lucinda and Sir Anthony clutched in each other’s arms.

  Ginny followed as Lord Avery charged into the room. “Sir Anthony! I insist you unhand her at once!”

  Sir Anthony ignored him and looked imploringly at Ginny instead. “This wasn’t meant to happen. Let me explain!”

  “Yes,” Lucinda spoke for the first time, “let him tell you. We are in love!”

  “Crenshaw!” Lord Avery shouted. “You weren’t meant to make her fall in love with you!”

  “Well, I am,” Lucinda said in a shrill voice, reminiscent of her mother’s, “and he loves me, only he won’t stop trying to get away,” she said, clutching him tighter around the neck.

  “Avery, no!” Sir Anthony shouted back. “She loves you! Get on with it, already!”

  Lord Avery rallied. “I say, unhand him! I mean, her, unhand her!” He charged up to the pair, his hands clenched in fists. “I can’t account for my actions if you don’t do so this very minute!” He made a manful attempt to punch Sir Anthony, but Lucinda wouldn’t let him have a clear shot.

  Ginny began to have the feeling that matters were not what they seemed. She watched in rapt fascination as events continued to unfold.

  “Miss Barrington, it’s over,” Sir Anthony hissed, “you must let go!”

  “No!” she shouted, stomping her foot and landing it on Sir Anthony’s recently healed ankle. “I shan’t. You must at least hit him first!”

  Ginny was unclear as to whom Lucinda was addressing with her last request. It would seem Sir Anthony and Lord Avery were equally nonplussed as no punches were thrown. Instead, Sir Anthony clutched his hair in both hands, Lord Avery sank to the floor, and Ginny began to laugh.

  Lucinda, crestfallen and bewildered, asked, “But what about going through the window? You said..” She was stopped from saying more by Sir Anthony’s finger on her lips.

  “Go through the window?” a voice behind Ginny bellowed. “Were you planning, I say, were you planning to elope or just run away together?”

  G’Papa!” Lucinda cried, allowing her arms to slide from Sir Anthony’s neck to her side where they drooped like petals on a wilted flower.

  “Lucinda!” Mrs. Barrington cried.

  Sir Anthony groaned, and from Lord Avery’s spot on the floor came the sound of weeping.

  “Come with me this instant, young lady!” Mrs Barrington snapped. She stalked over to Lucinda and, taking her firmly by the hand, drew her out of the room. “You too, Miss Delacourt!” she said with a snap of her fingers.

  Ginny felt it best to comply and followed the other women down the hall, Mrs. Barrington ranting all the way to Lucinda’s room.

  “I declare, if I knew we were housing two such serpents in our midst, I would have sent them packing as soon as I clapped eyes on them, pox or no pox!”

  Lucinda was hustled into her room, changed into her night rail, and tucked into bed, all without a word in her own defense. Ginny had often thought of Lucinda as witless, but she never seemed more so than she did now, lying in her bed like an expressionless doll.

  Mrs. Barrington tucked the covers around her daughter, then blew out the candle. “We will discuss this further in the morning!” she said, then marched Ginny out the door and into the hall.

  “Go straight to your room and be sure to lock your door!”

  “Yes, Mrs. Barrington. But if I could only make a suggestion…”

  “In the morning!” Mrs. Barrington shouted, then stomped down the hall to her own room, slamming the door behind her.

  Now that all the shouting had stopped, things seemed very quiet. Too quiet. Sir Anthony’s door lay between Lucinda’s and her own, and she doubted she could pass by unnoticed. She knew Sir Anthony had much to say to her, and she wanted to hear it, every word. She wasn’t sure how to feel about what had just transpired, but clearly things were not as they had appeared when she first walked into his room, and she knew she would not sleep until she had heard the whole truth. She also knew Mrs. Barrington most likely had her ear pressed up to her bedroom door.

  She would have to walk by as quietly as possible and hope he had the sense to wait until morning for explanations. This proved to be a dangerous course of action. The arm that snaked out behind Sir Anthony’s door and wrapped itself around her waist came as a profound shock, and she very nearly gave a shriek. Deciding she was safer from Mrs. Barrington’s wrath, at this point, to capitulate, Ginny allowed herself to be pulled across the threshold.

  While being clasped in Sir Anthony’s arms and soundly kissed, it occurred to Ginny that she was wrong about oh so many things. She had thought she knew him so well, could interpret every look, every action, every mask he chose to wear, but she was finding it harder and harder to predict what he would do. She found she rather liked it. She was wrong too about herself. Four days ago she had reason to hope he loved her. Forty minutes ago she was convinced he wanted none but Lucinda. Most of all, only four seconds ago she had truly believed that she would have resisted such an assault.

  Instead, she melted with a fervent heat, and there was a singing deep within her that filled her with wonderment. There came sensations, even sounds, she barely recognized as belonging to her and only gradually did she realize that the rustling and murmuring were coming from elsewhere.

  “The Barringtons,” she murmured against Sir Anthony’s lips. “They must have heard me come in here”

  “No, it is I,” Lord Avery said from his corner on the floor.

  Ginny gasped and pushed Sir Anthony away. “What is he doing here? What were you thinking?!”

  “Oh, him! I forgot he was here. You! Out!” he said, helping Lord Avery off the floor and out the door. “And you, my dear Miss Delacourt,” he said, indicating a chair, “must sit.”

  Drawing up a chair across from her, he sat down and took a deep breath.

  Ginny threw up a hand. “Don’t. It’s not necessary. I think I have it all sorted out”

  “You do? You mean, you aren’t going to read me a lecture or break bottles over my head?”

  “No! I’m not angry. I see what you were trying to do, both you and Lord Avery as well as you and Lucinda. Why two plots on the same night I am at a loss to explain, but with Lucinda, most anything is possible. Perhaps you should fill me in on the details tomorrowone engagement under a cloud of suspicion is quite enough.”

  “Yes,” he said, relief washing across his face. “I believe you do understand,” he said very quietly.

  Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. “What do you mean? What do I understand so well?”

  “Ginny, don’t you see? The Barringtons insisted Lord Avery marry their daughter when they merely suspected they had been together in her room. I was caught redhanded”

  “You mean … you can’t mean they … No! Why should they break off her engagement with Lord Avery only to marry her off to y
ou? As long as she marries one of you, her reputation is in no danger whatsoever!” she cried, as panic started to make its way up her lungs into her throat. “Why shouldn’t it be Lord Avery?”

  “Ginny,” he said softly, taking her hands in his, “I hope you are right. I pray that it is so. All we can do is wait and see”

  “Wait and see? Wait and see! You would marry Lucinda?”

  “No! Not if I could help it. I will do everything in my power to avoid it, if it comes to that. But if Lucinda doesn’t get over her petulance for Sir Avery, if he loses patience with her and sees me as a way out, I might have no choice!”

  Ginny was aghast. “What do you mean, no choice? Just say no!” The panic took over and welled up in her eyes and down her cheeks.

  “Ginny, there’s still time to avert disaster. The quarantine isn’t over for three whole days. What difference does it make if they insist we are betrothed if we are the only people to hear of it?” He tilted up her chin and brushed at her tears. “Do not despair.”

  She nodded and dragged herself to her feet. It was silly to be so distraught over something that hadn’t even happened. Yet Ginny had a foreboding that the Barringtons would insist on marriage between Lucinda and Sir Anthony. She suspected he thought so as well. If word of it got out, it was as good as done. For a man to cry off from an engagement was strictly taboo, even among the less scrupulous.

  And Sir Anthony was always polite.

  With unseeing eyes and leaden feet she found her way to her room. Somehow she managed to undress and fall into bed.

  A few rooms down the hall, Sir Anthony sat at his desk and tried to think. Only a few more days left of this ghastly quarantine. How much more damage could he do in the days remaining? How much damage could he manage to undo?

  Laying his head on his arms, he closed his eyes. He awoke to the singing of birds and the sun shining. He groaned. Who gave the day permission to be so bright? His mood did not match the day. There was nothing to look forward to. He could hardly woo Ginny with an engagement to Lucinda hanging over his head. He didn’t know if the Barringtons could be made to understand what had happened, or if it even mattered. Worst of all, that meant no more kissing Ginny. How had he let himself get so out of hand in the first place? Grandmama would comb his hair with a footstool if she knew how he had made such a muddle of things, not to mention precipitating so many acts of impropriety with her grandniece.

  As he began to dress, the day did not improve. He wished, for the hundredth time, that he had Conti, his valet, with him. And for the hundred and first time when he nicked himself shaving. And for the hundred and second time when he was barely able to struggle into his jacket, his neck and shoulder muscles sore from his night at the desk. No doubt having a grown woman hanging from his neck like a barnacle off a ship was to blame. Eventually, however, he felt able to face the consequences of his actions and headed downstairs, where he encountered Lucinda about to enter the breakfast room.

  “Good morning, Miss Barrington.”

  Lucinda tossed her curls and flounced away. Things were looking up.

  Following her into the breakfast room, he was almost knocked over by Lord Avery storming out.

  “Good morning, Avery.”

  Lord Avery looked him up and down. “The moment I am able I will send for my seconds. They will be calling on you here, so do not think to escape”

  This was not a good sign. Sir Anthony inclined his head but was too puzzled to make a reply. As he pushed open the breakfast-room door, he noted that Lucinda and Ginny were seated on the farthest ends of the table from each other. He nodded politely to each and took a seat next to Mrs. Barrington, who pressed a well-used handkerchief to her nose and rushed from the room.

  “Well, I am not in good odor today, am I?” Sir Anthony poured himself a cup of coffee and looked around the table.

  “It is a sad state of affairs, a sad state of affairs, indeed,” the squire said with a tragic smile. “It seems we could all do with some cheering up. Miss Delacourt?”

  “Yes?” Ginny gave the squire a bright smile. Sir Anthony thought it a trifle too bright.

  “Would you like to go for a stroll through my rose garden? Perhaps you could advise me on some additions I wish to make. I believe your Grandaunt Regina has some varieties that would look well, oh, very well indeed, with those I have already”

  This time Sir Anthony thought Ginny’s smile looked painted on. “Of course, squire. Only, do you think it wise? Your wife has me convinced my eyes should fall from my head if exposed to the sun during the quarantine.”

  “We shall just have to take the risk, then, shan’t we?” the squire replied.

  Sir Anthony watched Ginny leave on the squire’s arm, his heart aching.

  “You will have to learn to get over her when we are married,” Lucinda said.

  Sir Anthony choked on his coffee. “I’m sorry?”

  “I could not like it if you were to be in love with her when we are married, that is all.”

  Sir Anthony bit his tongue and counted to ten. He certainly hadn’t expected Lucinda to be the one to broach the subject of marriage. “Is this your parents’ idea, or have you decided this on your own?” He scrubbed at the coffee stain spreading over his neckcloth. Conti … one hundred and three.

  “Mama and Papa and I have been discussing it all morning. Seeing as Eustace and I are no longer engaged, they think it would be a good idea if I married you. After all, it is your fault everything went wrong! Eustace didn’t declare his love, he didn’t hit you or even throw you out of the window. And you said he would!”

  Sir Anthony choked again. It was worse than he feared. Two Barringtons were a respectable challenge, but the three aligned together were nearly insurmountable. “But you love Avery! Why would you cry off?”

  “I do love him, but this is all so much more romantic, don’t you see?”

  “No, I don’t see.”

  “Well, it hardly matters now because my parents insist that since you besmirched me, you must marry me”

  Sir Anthony choked, coughed, and choked again. “Besmirched? Lucinda! Didn’t you tell your parents the truth?”

  “But of course! I told them you were making love to me in your room and Eustace didn’t try to stop you!”

  Sir Anthony put down his cup and resolved never to drink coffee again. “Lucinda, you know that isn’t true. I was not making love to you, and Avery did try to save you” There was something wrong about that statement, but he would have to consider just what at a later time. “Lastly, you don’t want to marry me”

  “But he didn’t try hard enough,” Lucinda whined, her nose in the air. “I might as well marry you as anyone else if Eustace won’t have me. You’re rich, titled, and handsome. And besides, if we are already engaged I won’t have to dance with sweaty, creaky old Jem Feddleswank at my ball”

  “No, of course not,” Sir Anthony murmured, looking down to note the coffee spreading along his snowwhite cravat onto his shirt. “Excuse me, I think I have had too much to drink.”

  “I do hope you will take better care of your clothes when we are married!” Lucinda snipped.

  “Miss Barrington, you leave me with very little to say.” With that, he fled the vicinity and retreated to his room to lick his wounds and plot his escape.

  66It is a lovely, yes, a lovely day for a walk in the garden, is it not, Miss Delacourt?” The squire squeezed Ginny’s hand where it lay on his arm. He chuckled. “In spite of all the romantic turmoil, eh, what?”

  Ginny stifled her annoyance. The squire could not possibly know how her own heart roiled. “So there is to be no wedding between your daughter and Lord Avery. I shall always consider it a sad misfortune, as they seem very fond of one another.”

  Squire Barrington sighed and sighed again. “Lucinda assures me it is as she wishes. I don’t know when it happened, but it seems she has developed quite a tendre, quite a tendre indeed, for Sir Anthony. Of course, he is not the catch Lord Avery was, but he
re now, you would not tell him I said so, would you?”

  “Of course not,” Ginny said. Besides, she didn’t in the least agree. “Then it is all settled,” she said in a dull voice. “Lucinda is to marry Sir Anthony?”

  The squire paused to admire a rose before answering. “Well, there has been no formal offer, but we expect nothing less, nothing less, found as they were together in his room. My Lucinda is a vastly pretty girl, oh, vastly pretty. Still, I am not so sure what it is that inspires gentleman to exhibit such wanton conduct in her presence” He leaned close to whisper in Ginny’s ear. “Beauty is not everything, and my Lucinda is sadly lacking in other minor areas”

  Ginny cast about for an appropriate reply and, finding none, hid her confusion in the petals of the nearest rose. She certainly was mellowing. There was a time when she would have told the squire precisely what she thought of his rag-mannered daughter and her latest engagement.

  “You do not recognize that rose?” the squire asked. “It is a very rare one indeed. Only your guardian, the dowager duchess, and I possess such a rose in all, yes, all the county. I endured great pains to secure that, I tell you”

  Ginny wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the details. In fact, the subject of roses was one she did her best to avoid with the squire. The conversation seemed always to make its way to a request for clippings from her Grandaunt’s precious collection, something she would never allow. Ginny endeavored to say as little as possible when they happened upon a newly dug bed of rich brown earth crying out to be filled with roses. Grandaunt’s roses.

  “Well, whatever do we have here?” the squire bellowed. “My gardener has been hard, yes, hard at work, it seems. Is it not splendid?”

  Ginny gazed at the dirt at her feet. “Marvelous” Flowers were glorious, but digging in the soil with her bare hands was not. Nevertheless, the new bed was significant. Undoubtedly the squire was about to renew his request for specimens. The knot of misery that had been forming in her stomach since the previous night tightened with a painful jerk.