A Simple Lady

by Carolynn Carey

  Kenrick gazed at his wife. She looked almost majestic, sitting proud and straight in the saddle, her eyes large and luminous, her lips soft and inviting. But her unfortunate choice of words had suddenly whirled him backward in time.

  “You must understand,” Paulina had screamed at him. He had been kneeling at her bedside, praying for her ordeal to end, sympathy for her pain wrenching his own abdomen into cramping knots. She had looked beautiful, even with her face contorted by the agony she endured. And then, her will weakening with her flesh, she had told him the truth. The baby that was killing her was not his progeny but his half-brother. “Try to understand,” she had pleaded as he stared at her, disbelieving. “Try to understand. You must understand.” She had died with the words on her lips.

  The past faded. Kenrick sighed deeply, gazing at his living wife, her firm lips, her widened eyes. “Understand, madam?” he said, his words clipped and cold. “Understand? Unfortunately, I understand much too well already.”

  Tugging on his reins, he instantly guided Solomon into the street ahead of Elizabeth, who trailed behind him all the way home. They did not speak again.

  Chapter Ten

  The Marquess of Kenrick was not accustomed to feeling remorse, nor did he enjoy the sensation. Unfortunately, he was finding that dealings with his wife evoked that emotion far too often for his comfort. How was it, he wondered, that she consistently made him feel guilty when it was she who had wronged him? Or was it possible that he had misjudged her?

  After helping his wife dismount following their ill-fated morning ride, Kenrick had taken one look into Elizabeth’s ashen face and shattered expression and realized his vacillations between congeniality and hostility had upset her very much. He found himself, irrationally he admitted, longing to reach out and comfort her. But that was ridiculous. He would only open himself up to more hurt. Elizabeth, after all, surely was just as guilty of duplicity as Paulina had been.

  Solemnly he watched as Elizabeth, her shoulders square and her chin high, swept into the house and mounted the stairs toward her chamber. He strongly suspected she was retiring there for a good long cry. His own preference would be to seclude himself in the library with a bottle of brandy, but first he must find his mother. Just yesterday she had tried to convince him that Elizabeth was innocent of any deception. He had refused to listen to her. After all, his mother was notoriously soft-hearted. Now, for reasons he did not fully comprehend, Kenrick found himself not only willing but eager to hear his mother’s defense of Elizabeth.

  “Larkman, where can I find the dowager marchioness?” Kenrick asked, impatience clear in his tone.

  A hint of disapproval touched the butler’s countenance. “I believe, my lord, that you will find her ladyship in the front drawing room with—”

  “Thank you,” Kenrick interrupted tersely. Flinging his hat, gloves, and riding crop onto a nearby table, he took the steps two at a time. He was desperately hoping his mother could convince him that he had misjudged Elizabeth.

  “Dearest!” His mother greeted Kenrick’s hasty entrance with a fond smile. “Come see who is visiting me today.”

  Kenrick stopped abruptly in the doorway, his expression suddenly constrained. “Gerald,” he said, suppressing a moan. Finding his detested cousin with his mother seemed the final insult in a morning that had consistently gone wrong. First that scamp of a kitten had scratched his new boots, then he had quarreled with his wife, and now this—Gerald, sitting on the settee with a smug smile on his face and with Elizabeth seated just to his right. Kenrick clenched his teeth and smiled. Somehow he would manage to be polite. Elizabeth was already glaring at him, her expression both wary and cold. No sense in alienating his mother too.

  Stepping into the room, he nodded to his cousin. “I did not realize you were in town, Gerald.”

  The blond man grinned, his handsome face open and friendly, his blue eyes twinkling with the knowledge that he had discomposed his cousin. “Hello, Kenrick. It seems each of us has astounded the other. I had believed you to be summering in Scotland.”

  Kenrick tried to relax, but his jaws were already beginning to ache from the effort required to sustain his smile. “As you see,” he said, nodding slightly, “I am not in Scotland. I observe that you have met my wife.”

  “I have—to my great delight. She is quite charming. You are a lucky fellow, Cousin.”

  Kenrick nodded again. “Thank you.” His smile had grown stiff. “I could not agree more, of course.”

  His mother was listening contentedly, apparently unaware of the undercurrents flowing through the conversation. “Will you take tea with us, Jeremy? Elizabeth was about to pour.”

  “I would be delighted.” Kenrick lowered himself into a chair opposite the small settee where Elizabeth and Gerald sat side-by-side. Fixing his gaze on the teapot, he tried to analyze the unanticipated surge of rage that was sweeping through him. He was not surprised by the magnitude of his antipathy for his cousin; that went back many years. He was, however, more than a bit bemused by his sudden and inexplicable urge to shove Gerald’s straight white teeth down his long slender neck.

  Determined to get a grip on his emotions, Kenrick forced himself to regard his cousin with an expression of feigned interest. “What brings you to London, Gerald?”

  “A spot of business. And yourself?”

  “The delightful anticipation of serving as escort to my mother and wife during their visit in town. Do you make a long stay?”

  Gerald accepted a cup of tea from Elizabeth, gazing at her with open admiration. “I cannot say at the moment, Cousin. It will depend upon how my business prospers.”

  “Then we shall hope it flourishes.” Kenrick’s smile was suddenly sincere and more than a bit mischievous. Hearing his mother’s quick gasp, he glanced at her with an expression of wide-eyed innocence. “Did I say something wrong? Oh! I beg your pardon, Gerald. I never intended to imply, of course…”

  “Of course not,” Gerald responded, his own smile forced. “No one accuses you of ill-will, Cousin. We know too well your tendency toward ineptness.”

  “Gerald, dear boy,” the dowager interjected hastily. “I believe you mentioned taking Elizabeth for a drive this afternoon. I know she wishes to visit a bookshop and would no doubt welcome your escort.”

  Gerald turned to Elizabeth with alacrity. “I would be honored, my lady.”

  Kenrick pulled in a quick breath. The thought of Gerald escorting his wife anywhere at all was anathema to him, but he could hardly object, especially with Elizabeth taking care not to meet his gaze.

  On the other hand, he didn’t trust himself not to lose his temper if he was forced to endure much more of Gerald’s efforts to charm his wife. He jumped to his feet. “I beg your pardon, ladies, but I’ve just recalled an urgent matter of business and must be on my way.” He sketched a quick bow before turning and hurrying from the room.

  * * *

  Elizabeth watched her husband stalk out of the drawing room. He had hurt her feelings this morning on their ride and now appeared more than eager to remove himself from her presence. She suppressed a sigh and flashed Gerald her most charming smile. “Your escort would be most welcome this afternoon, sir. If I may have a few minutes in which to change?”

  “Certainly. Do not feel you must hurry. My groom is walking the horses.” Gerald jumped to his feet as Elizabeth stood to excuse herself.

  “I shall be just a few m-m-moments, sir,” she said. Then she turned and hurried from the room.

  Thirty minutes later Elizabeth was seated beside her husband’s cousin as he skillfully guided his curricle down bustling Piccadilly toward Hatchard’s. Not only was Gerald handsome and charming, Elizabeth was thinking, but he also handled the reins with a degree of expertise she had rarely seen. Could, perhaps, her husband’s antipathy toward his cousin spring from jealousy?

  “I am more pleased than I can express that you have consented to drive out with me today, my lady,” Gerald said. He appeared to be devotin
g his full attention to maneuvering the crowded streets, but his tone sounded quite sincere. “It is an act of kindness on your part that is more than I deserve.”

  Elizabeth, frowning in confusion, glanced toward Gerald, wondering if perhaps he was teasing her. However, he seemed unaware of her regard as he concentrated on easing his curricle between a large traveling carriage that had stopped on one side of the street and a high-perch phaeton that was crowding him from the other side. Elizabeth waited until the traffic had thinned before she spoke again. “Forgive me, sir, but I fail to take your meaning. I should think any act of kindness must be on your part. After all, you very generously agreed to accompany me on my errand today.”

  Gerald continued to look straight ahead, but even in profile, he appeared upset. His lips were thinned, and a slight frown furrowed his high forehead. “You do not know then,” he murmured softly.

  “Know what, sir?”

  “That following your wedding, I very inaccurately and unfairly informed Aunt Mary that you were, er, that you—”

  “Oh!” Elizabeth suddenly recalled that this was the man who had labeled her as simpleminded when reporting Kenrick’s marriage to the dowager. “Yes, I know what you mean, sir. However, I am sure that what you said, you believed to be true and that what you did, you believed to be for the best.”

  A deep sigh of relief greeted Elizabeth’s words. “You are too kind, my lady. I had feared you might never forgive me for that indiscretion.”

  “Nonsense!” Elizabeth found herself smiling. There was no small degree of pleasure, she was discovering, in having a handsome man verbally prostrate himself at one’s feet. “You must not think I hold that against you. After all, your message to my mother-in-law was responsible for her coming to visit me and then bringing me to London. Thus, the outcome of your action has been most pleasurable for me, I assure you. I have gained a new friend in the dowager and enjoyed new and delightful experiences in town.”

  Elizabeth’s escort smiled at last. “Thank you, my lady. You have not only been kind enough to forgive me, but you have also given me the means by which I can forgive myself. Knowing my actions, even inadvertently, were responsible for bringing you to London makes them appear much less odious in my eyes. I would never have forgiven myself had I caused you pain by my repetition of those silly rumors about you. It was foolish of me to believe them in the first place.”

  Elizabeth inclined her head and stared straight ahead, delighted that the challenge of driving on the increasingly crowded street had reclaimed Gerald’s full attention. His self-recriminations were becoming a bit embarrassing and—Elizabeth was forced to admit—a trifle boring. What was wrong with her? She was in the company of an unusually handsome man who was making his admiration for her clear in his every word and sideways glance. Why did her mind insist on comparing him with another man, one who scowled more often than he smiled, one who frightened her so much that her blood quickened in her veins each time she saw him, one who—

  “Ah, Hatchard’s at last,” Gerald announced, interrupting Elizabeth’s thoughts.

  “Yes,” she agreed, turning to him with a bright smile designed to cover her sudden surge of guilt. She really should be ashamed of herself. Gerald had been all that was amiable and considerate. She had absolutely no reason to compare him with Kenrick and find him wanting. The fact that she had done so made her determined to be especially kind to him. Thus, she readily agreed when he suggested that, considering they were cousins by marriage, they should call each other by their Christian names.

  Hatchard’s was filled with people that day who, to the best of Elizabeth’s ability to judge, had no interest whatsoever in books. Although several elderly gentlemen seemed engrossed in the newspapers that were provided on a table for their entertainment, most of the patrons stood about chatting and watching for acquaintances to enter the door.

  Elizabeth was pleased to be recognized and greeted by a few ladies she had met during morning calls with her mother-in-law. None seemed to have been previously acquainted with Gerald, and when Elizabeth introduced him, she thought she detected a note of reserve on the part of Mary’s friends.

  Gerald’s acquaintances, on the other hand, indicated great pleasure upon being introduced to Elizabeth, and she soon found herself among a small cohort of young people discussing the latest on dits. It was a new and heady experience for Elizabeth—being instantly accepted into a group that was both young and fashionable—and if their conversations sometimes threatened to bring a blush to her face, Elizabeth assumed the fault lay with her. After all, she reminded herself, her experience with the ton was very limited.

  It seemed, however, that Gerald, too, felt the conversation was growing a bit too warm for Elizabeth’s ears, for he soon made their excuses to his friends, explaining that Elizabeth wished to look about for some particular books. As he gently guided Elizabeth away from the group, he bent to whisper into her ear. “Silly gudgeons, but harmless, I assure you, my dear Elizabeth. Still, perhaps you should not mention to Kenrick that I introduced you to them. He has never approved of my friends, I fear.”

  Elizabeth merely nodded her agreement. She could hardly explain that she would not have been likely to mention Gerald’s friends to her husband in any case. After all, she and Kenrick rarely talked, and then only to quarrel. Elizabeth quickly picked up a book and began leafing through it, pretending deep interest in a tome of sermons while rapidly blinking her eyes. How silly of her to grow teary, simply because she and her husband got along so badly.

  “Gerald! You naughty boy! Here you are in town and have not even bothered to call on me. I should never speak to you again.”

  Elizabeth glanced up and then openly stared as an exquisitely dressed woman approached Gerald, her expression of coquettish pouting in no way distracting from the beauty of her heart-shaped face or the brilliance of her dark blue eyes. Her hair, only a shade darker than Gerald’s, reminded Elizabeth of marigolds. Despite knowing that her own maroon walking dress was in the latest mode, Elizabeth suddenly felt like a dowdy country bumpkin.

  Stepping between Elizabeth and Gerald, the stranger quickly placed her hand on Gerald’s arm and tilted her head to look up into his face. “I declare, I am quite put out with you, sir. I have been bored to distraction, wishing you were here to enliven my days, not to mention my evenings.”

  Fully expecting Gerald to be gazing at this vision with open admiration, Elizabeth glanced at him and nearly gasped with surprise. For an instant, she had thought she detected pure fury blazing in his eyes but realized she must have been mistaken when Gerald smiled and reached to pat the lady’s hand, which was still lying on his arm.

  “My dear Ethel. What an unanticipated pleasure. This, obviously, is a fortunate day for me, for now I can enjoy the company of both of my lovely cousins. Elizabeth, may I present Mrs. Stanhope, my cousin on my mother’s side. Ethel, this is Elizabeth, my cousin Kenrick’s wife.”

  Mrs. Stanhope turned slowly, biting on her curving lower lip, her pretty eyes twinkling as though she were enjoying a private joke. “Lady Kenrick. How wonderful! And a new cousin for me. I am delighted to make your acquaintance. Town is so thin of company at the moment. Besides, one must always be pleased to find a new friend, do you not agree? And obviously you and I are destined to be friends. After all, we are related in a way. Cousins by marriage are still cousins, are they not? Do you not agree that most likely we shall soon become good friends?”

  “Of course,” Elizabeth murmured, wishing she did not feel as though she were meeting someone she would rather not know. The word “toadeater” leapt to mind, and Elizabeth was instantly ashamed of herself. She had always disliked snobbery but now feared she was exhibiting signs of haughtiness herself. Determined to repel any such tendency, she smiled brightly. “Yes, I am certain we shall be friends.”

  Mrs. Stanhope clapped her small, gloved hands. “Wonderful. I’ll look forward to helping you steer your way through the sometimes rocky shoals of London soci
ety.” Her gaze dropped to the book of sermons Elizabeth still held. “For example, we must be careful not to show interest in reading materials that might label us as Bluestockings. I never read anything more demanding than the latest novels myself.”

  Elizabeth felt a flush of irritation warming her face. She didn’t appreciate Mrs. Stanhope’s advice but neither did she wish to engage in a discussion of literature with the woman, who was now staring at Elizabeth with an expression in her eyes that Elizabeth could not read.

  The next instant, Mrs. Stanhope smiled broadly and clasped her hands under her chin in a pleading gesture. “May I impose on you, my new friend, to accompany me on a call tomorrow afternoon? I must visit an elderly great aunt, and she always terrifies me. Perhaps, if I have a new acquaintance at my side, she will refrain from eating me.” Her tiny trill of laughter set Elizabeth’s teeth on edge.

  “I would be pleased to accompany you, Mrs. Stanhope, but I am not certain what plans my mother-in-law might have made for us.”

  “Call me Ethel, please. After all, we are cousins. If you cannot go tomorrow, perhaps you will be free the following day. I simply must have a friend by my side, and you did say you would be my friend.”

  Elizabeth stifled a sigh. She was trying very hard to like Gerald’s cousin but was finding it a difficult task. Certainly she did not want to accompany the lady to visit her elderly and crotchety great aunt. Still, perhaps it would be best to agree. Mrs. Stanhope would likely learn quickly that she and Elizabeth had little in common and would then allow the friendship to die a natural death.

  “I was about to say, Ethel, that I am not sure what plans my mother-in-law has made for tomorrow. However, I daresay she can forego my company for the afternoon. Therefore—”

  Ethel didn’t wait to hear the rest of Elizabeth’s sentence. She trilled another of her grating little laughs. “Wonderful, my dearest Elizabeth! I am sure my coachman will know how to find Kenrick House. I shall be looking forward to seeing you tomorrow afternoon around three. Goodbye until then, my newest cousin. Goodbye, Gerald. Do not forget your little Ethel, just because you have a new cousin. Goodbye.”