Yet on this morning after, Meredith had no intention of succumbing to the blue devils. With her usual forthright determination, she resigned herself to throwing off her melancholy mood as effectively as she threw back her bed covers.
She spent her morning in the usual manner, purposely adhering to her comfortable routine: breakfast in quiet solitude in the cozy informal dining room, a brief consultation with Cook over the day’s menu, a meeting with the butler to discuss a nagging problem with a member of the household staff.
Then it was off to her father’s study, where Meredith read through the monthly financial statements she received from her solicitor. After completing her daily correspondence, which included a rather lengthy letter to her childhood friend Faith Linden, now the Viscountess Dewhurst, Meredith decided to indulge in one of her dearest passions. Reading.
Relaxed at last, she was so engrossed in her book of poetry she did not at first hear the butler enter the library.
“I do beg your pardon, Lady Meredith,” the butler said in an apologetic tone. “There has been a delivery of flowers for you. Would you like them brought in here, or shall I have them sent to the kitchens so Mrs. Hopkins can arrange them in vases?”
“Vases?” Meredith’s brow quirked. “Is it a particularly large bunch of flowers?”
“Several of them are quite large. The rest are of a more modest, appropriate size,” the butler replied dryly.
“Precisely how many bouquets have arrived?”
“Ten.”
“What!” Meredith stood so quickly her book fell to the carpet. She ignored it and instead accepted a pile of engraved cards the butler silently offered her.
Heart racing, Meredith quickly shuffled through the heavy vellum notes. The Earl of Botsworth, Lord Chillingham, Mr. Julian Wingate! Men she had not seen for an age. She did not even know they were all in town.
With a more considering eye, Meredith looked through the cards a second time. There were a number of mature bachelors, several married gentlemen, and quite a few old admirers. She frowned slightly, realizing she had not been plagued by so much male attention since her first Season.
Yet one name was noticeably absent—the Marquess of Dardington. Meredith surprised herself mightily by even noticing.
“The flowers, Lady Meredith?”
Meredith looked at the butler blankly for several seconds. Then his question penetrated her jumbled thoughts. “Please ask Mrs. Hopkins to arrange them for me,” she answered calmly. “Then place them throughout the house, in any room except my bedchamber.”
“Very good, my lady.” The butler bowed respectfully, but did not take his leave.
“Was there something else?”
“ ’Tis early in the day. If additional flowers arrive—”
“Have Mrs. Hopkins sort it out,” Meredith interrupted. She drew in a deep breath and modulated the tone of her voice. “Just make certain I receive the cards accompanying each bouquet.”
This time the servant did not hesitate. He left the room the moment she ceased speaking. Meredith sighed. Perkins was a competent butler. He had been with the family for almost twenty years. The very last thing she wanted to do was upset him.
She wondered what subtle thing she could do to smooth his ruffled feathers. Though the feelings of one’s servants were hardly a weighty problem, Meredith indulged in sorting through options to overcome it. For it kept her mind focused on other, less personal matters.
But she had little time for contemplative thinking. Throughout the morning she was interrupted by either the butler or a footman informing her of a delivery of flowers.An even dozen bouquets, with accompanying cards, had arrived by luncheon, fifteen by early afternoon. Meredith smiled wanly each time a servant entered the drawing room, determined not to take her agitated mood out on the messenger.
“A caller, Lady Meredith,” the butler announced in a stiff tone that let her know he had not yet forgiven her for her earlier actions.
Meredith went still and frowned at the butler. She gingerly lifted the gold embossed name card resting ominously in the center of the silver salver. Her fingertip flicked the turned down edge of the card, signifying that the caller was in fact here and had not sent a servant in their stead to deliver a message.
Lady Olivia Dermott. Meredith nearly choked when she read the name. “Has she been here long?”
“She just arrived.”
“Tell her I will see her shortly,” Meredith instructed. “Then wait a full ten minutes before showing her in.”
Meredith picked up the book of poetry she had begun reading earlier and tried to once again immerse herself in the words. She was not successful.
“How good to see you,” Lady Olivia proclaimed, approaching Meredith with a blatantly false, sugary smile pasted upon her face. “I know it is early for afternoon callers, but I confess I was hoping to catch you alone. Now we shall have a chance for a little private tête-à-tête. There is so much to talk, about!”
Meredith nearly laughed incredulously. Lady Dermott had always been one of her most vocal critics. With three daughters to marry off, the older woman had viewed her as a rival and an irritant. In fact, two of the three men who had eventually married her daughters had first proposed to Meredith.
And, if Meredith remembered correctly, Lady Olivia’s third son-in-law was one of the many gentlemen who had sent her a bouquet of flowers this very morning. Indeed, Lady Olivia was the very last person Meredith would ever consider sharing a confidence with or revealing anything of a personal nature.
“I suppose I must consider it flattering to be an object of such interest to you. One would think you had more important and significant issues to occupy your thoughts.” There was no mistaking the mockery in Meredith’s voice, but Lady Olivia was not a woman known for her wit or wisdom, and the barb fell short of the mark.
“I am not the only one with an eye on you, Lady Meredith.” Lady Olivia cast a sly glance about the room. “I gather from the many bouquets of fresh flowers decorating the hall and the drawing room that you have attracted a gaggle of male admirers. Or are they perhaps all from one special gentleman?”
“One admirer? He would have to be either very rich or very overbearing,” Meredith mused.
Lady Olivia tittered. “’Tis said the Marquess of Dardington can be most forceful—if necessary.”
A wave of frustrated anger washed over Meredith. She suspected the news would spread quickly, but had valiantly hoped there might be some other juicy scandal that would at least share the spotlight. Instead it seemed as if all the attention would be centered squarely at her.
Meredith knew charm could be a formidable weapon. She had seen other women, most notably Lavinia, use it to their advantage many times before. Yet Meredith knew herself well enough to realize she had neither the stomach nor fortitude to try and charm Lady Olivia.
“For the life of me I cannot understand why you would care, but if you really must know, I received no flowers from the marquess today. Nor yesterday,” Meredith quickly added, before the question could be asked.
That statement stopped Lady Olivia cold. Her eyebrows lifted at least half an inch as she viewed a lush bouquet of roses in full bloom. “These are all from other gentlemen?”
“Yes.”
“It would seem a person in your position would be more mindful of the risks they were taking.”
“Risks?” Meredith leveled a somber look at the older woman. “Whatever are you implying?”
A snide little smile spread over Lady Olivia’s face. “Even a woman of your advanced years must be concerned with her reputation. ’Tis bad enough you arranged an assignation with the Marquess of Dardington in Lady Dermond’s garden last evening. It would not be in your best interest to now encourage the attentions of so many different men. It gives rise to all sorts of unsavory speculation.”
“Speculation?”
“As to your character,” Lady Olivia replied promptly. “And your morals.”
Mere
dith’s ears burned at the condemnation. What was even more distressing was knowing she had no plausible defense of her actions to offer. She had lured the marquess into the garden last evening. The fact that Lady Olivia was apparently unaware of the reason Meredith had wanted to be alone with the marquess offered up only a tiny bit of solace.
Swallowing hard, Meredith felt her palms begin to dampen. Stop it! Now was not the time to become panicky. She must face this head on and emerge the victor, or else her disgrace would forever taint the family’s good name. Though she cared not overmuch for herself, Meredith did not want her parents or younger brothers to suffer for her foolishness.
What she really needed was a few moments of solitude so she could better consider her current difficulties. Yet Meredith keenly realized nothing short of crying fire would effectively clear Lady Olivia from the room. Meredith instead plastered a relaxed smile upon her lips and casually turned the page of the book of poems she had been reading as if she had not a care in the world.
After counting silently to twenty, she looked up, pinning Lady Olivia with a deliberate stare.
Meredith knew the older woman was watching her closely, aching for a glimpse of her true feelings. Did she feel remorse for her indiscretion? Embarrassment? Delight? Though she was resigned to this most unwelcome scrutiny Meredith was as equally determined to let no hint of her inner self betray her.
“Long ago I resigned myself to enduring the unfair and unfounded arrows of jealousy slung in my direction. In all these years, not a breath of scandal has ever crossed my path, though many have tried to lay disgrace upon my doorstep. Small minds and plain faces are a most lethal combination, are they not, Lady Olivia?”
The older woman’s snide smile quickly disappeared. She hesitated, clearly trying to decide whether or not she had been directly insulted. Meredith thought it best not to give her adversary too long to dwell upon the matter and hastened toward the door.
“I greatly appreciate your call this afternoon, Lady Olivia. You have no idea how enlightening I found our conversation.”
Lady Olivia stiffened fractionally, but after a forceful nudge in her back, stepped forward.
“Good day, Lady Meredith.”
“Farewell.”
Only with the door shut firmly did Meredith allow herself to crumple. For a moment.
Even as she had kissed the marquess last night, she had realized life as she had known it would never be the same. Yet that did not mean she had to succumb to the inevitable. She had endured the censure of Society during her first Season and had survived the ever present undercurrent of disapproval since that time.
“Are my brothers still abed?” Meredith asked Perkins the moment the butler answered her summons.
“Yes, I believe Lord Fairhurst and Mr. Barrington have not yet left their chambers.” The butler hesitated and then added, “Considering the lateness of their arrival home last evening, it is hardly surprising.”
“Kindly inform Lord Fairhurst’s valet that I require my brother’s company in one hour’s time. I wish to go for a drive in the park, and I need his lordship to accompany me.”
The servant turned to leave, and Meredith hastily added one final order. “Oh and, Perkins, I am not at home to any more callers this afternoon. No exceptions.”
“I understand, my lady.”
This time when the door closed, Meredith felt less agitated, more in control. Somehow she would figure out a way to escape this disaster. With fortitude, courage and determination, this too could be overcome.
The morning rain had washed the London streets clean of their usual debris. For now, the air was sweet smelling and fresh, the thoroughfare just beginning to once again team with life. As they clipped along in the open phaeton, Meredith wished she could enjoy the smell of freshness, but her mind was too focused on the task ahead to indulge her senses in her surroundings.
“Do be careful,” Meredith calmly said to her brother Jasper, who was holding the carriage reins nonchalantly. “There are hidden dangers in these rain puddles—deep ruts and broken cobblestones. A fractured carriage wheel will no doubt cause us a great deal of aggravation, as well as drawing an inordinate amount of unwanted attention.”
Jasper skittered sideways, neatly avoiding an ominous looking puddle. “I know what I’m doing,” he replied, crinkling his nose in disgust at the admonishment. “I’ve been driving a carriage in London for years.”
“You have also had more than one accident, if I recall,” Meredith said pointedly.
“I’ve never overturned a vehicle when I was sober,” Jasper retorted.
Meredith bit her bottom lip and held it tightly between her teeth until they rounded the next corner. Now was not the time to begin a lecture on responsibility and acceptable behavior, especially given that her behavior last night was the reason she needed to make this fashionable appearance at the park.
So she focused her gaze instead on the high-stepping horses pulling the coach and realized she had never seen the pair before. “I do not recall seeing these animals in the stable. Are these the infamous bays you won in your bet with the marquess?”
“The very same,” Jasper replied cheerfully. “Dardington had them brought ’round first thing this morning. Aren’t they beauties?”
“Lovely,” Meredith responded dryly. “I assume I have your word as a gentleman that you will never again wager away these poor beasts?”
Jasper slanted her a jaded look. “ ’Tis hardly necessary to harp upon the matter, Merry. Jason and I have already agreed we would share the horses, therefore making it impossible for one of us to sell or otherwise dispose of them.”
Meredith turned to her brother with a cool smile. “Agreements between you and Jason are like the wind. They blow hot and cold with unfailing regularity.”
Jasper shrugged. “I cannot help it if my dear brother shows, on occasion, an utter lack of common sense. As the elder it is my responsibility to set him to rights.”
Meredith could not contain the grin that widened her smile further. “That is a fairly accurate and wholly frightening notion.”
She shook her head. If Jasper, who more often than not showed a lack of judgment and maturity when making a decision, was indeed the more responsible of the twins, then Jason should probably not be let out of the house without a keeper.
“I noticed the front parlor and entrance hall, not to mention the breakfast room and drawing room, resembled a flower shop,” Jasper said. “Could not one of your afternoon callers have taken you to the park? I assume you had several offers.”
Meredith turned to give her brother a sharp retort, reminding him that winning that ridiculous bet for him last evening was the catalyst for all of her current woes. But she caught him gazing rather wistfully at the cavalcade of horsemen riding toward the park and quickly swallowed her remarks.
“I understand escorting an old spinster sister is hardly befitting your image as a dashing rogue, but I need to be seen and acknowledged today. Since, as you so recently pointed out, you are the more responsible and respectable of my brothers, I felt the task should fall to you.”
“I will repeat, for the last time, Jason and I do not think of you as a spinster,” Jasper insisted.
“How quickly you change your tune, dear brother. Why only last evening I was considered enough of a spinster to win that ridiculous bet.”
“Ah, so that is your plan. You are determined to shed any vestiges of the spinster image and thrust yourself into the social fray on this rather soggy afternoon. That is the real reason you have dragged me out to the park today.”
Meredith felt a jolt of surprised embarrassment. Her brother’s assessment of the situation painted her in a frivolous light, and though it was completely incorrect, she realized it might be preferable to the truth.
“We are here today because I suddenly find myself to be the object of great interest, the majority of which is unfavorable. The events of last evening, specifically my kiss with the marquess, is provid
ing the ton with an endless stream of conversation and speculation.
“The many bouquets of flowers you saw is only a prelude to the propositions I am certain will follow, now that I am thought to be easy prey to any number of unscrupulous males. That notion must be immediately dispelled.”
“What!” Jasper nearly lost control of the bays as he reacted to her disclosure. “If any of your gentlemen callers were disrespectful, you should have summoned me at once.”
“There were no gentleman callers,” Meredith stated flatly. “After a thoroughly unpleasant and enlightening visit from Lady Olivia Dermott, I realized I was the sensation of the hour. I therefore refused to see anyone. Better to deny them the chance to imply I am no longer respectable, that my incident with the marquess has somehow left me tainted. In this instance I thought it prudent to lead the attack instead of waiting for more scandal to touch upon me.”
Jasper’s indignant expression turned to one of admiration. “Leave it to you, Merry, to know exactly how to manage the situation.”
Jasper’s approval boosted her confidence, yet Meredith knew there could be several pitfalls of disaster awaiting her. “The plan is sound, but hardly foolproof. Only the proper execution of it will deem it a success or failure.”
“Then we must make certain all goes well.” He tipped his hat to a pair of ladies who were riding in the opposite direction. They smiled cordially in return.
“Bring the carriage round to the other entrance,” Meredith instructed as they reached the park. “I want to greet the Duchess of Barlow and her friends first. If she acknowledges me, others will quickly follow.”
Meredith discreetly pointed to a trio of ladies promenading on the gravel path. Their heads were bent close beneath their fringed parasols, which did not obstruct the view of their chattering mouths.
It seemed as though the instant the carriage entered the park, all eyes turned in their direction. It took a concerted effort not to squirm in her seat, but Meredith managed. She gave her brother a quick glance, yet Jasper seemed oblivious to all the scrutiny.
To Protect An Heiress (Zebra Historical Romance) Page 9