by Fanny Finch
“Sometimes, I think you are as blunt as a man.”
Lavinia’s cheeks flushed. She glanced at Sir Henry, wishing Anna had not said such a thing in front of company. He looked up, meeting her eyes, and smiled. She tried to smile back but it faltered and shook at the end of her lips.
“You must address these rumors of your alleged relationship with the Marquess of Kent, you know,” Anna continued, lifting her tea cup to her lips and looking over the rim at her. Lavinia’s pleasant mood immediately darkened.
“Why must you bring him up? Am I not ashamed enough?”
Lavinia remembered the embarrassment she felt after the funeral, when her mother’s cousin had informed her that Myles Arlington, the man who had so rudely appeared and upset her, was indeed the Marquess of Kent. Now, this embarrassment was rekindled every time she happened to hear him mentioned.
“You should not be embarrassed,” Anna shook her head. “You should stand up and speak the truth. Whatever it may be.”
Lavinia’s eyebrows pulled together. “Whatever it may be? My reputation is being tarnished by these horrible rumors of an inappropriate encounter with the Marquess. Never had such a thing been spoken about me until he approached me at Father’s funeral. How could he do such a thing at such a time and place? I confess, I reacted strongly, drawing attention that birthed these rumors as a result, but how could I not have gotten angry?” her voice came out frustrated and hurt.
Anna reached forward and patted her friend on the knee. “I do not mean to upset you more, Lavi. Rumors involving the Marquess of Kent are frequently circulating. No one knows anything about him. To see him act in such an abrupt manner must have turned some heads.”
“It matters to me though, Anna. I am the one they are focusing on in relation to him. Oh, it frustrates me so!”
“The Marquess is a strange man,” Sir Henry said, his eyes scanning the two women. “I know very little about him myself but from what I hear, he has secluded himself for many years and never shown any interest in taking a bride. I am sure he will be a lifelong bachelor.”
Lavinia contemplated Sir Henry’s words. His tone implied he did not think much of the Marquess but that he also did not know the man well. He based his opinion on hearsay, something Lavinia was not sure could be trusted. After all, it was hearsay that had caused the rumors spreading about her.
Anna sat back, giving Lavinia a sympathetic look. “I understand. You must remember that people of the ton enjoy telling sensational stories about him. He is a man of mystery.” She leaned forward again, cupping her hand around her mouth as if keeping a secret. “Some say he is a member of a nefarious society. That he is not quite right in the head.”
Lavinia sighed heavily. “Perhaps he is not. It does me no good to ponder such things when I do not know the man well.”
“Rest assured, these rumors will die down when you are courting someone. They always do.” Anna shook her head. “The mood has become too serious. Come, let us not talk about this anymore. I apologize for broaching the subject.”
“It is not your fault, Anna,” Lavinia said apologetically. “I may have overreacted. With the loss of my father and being cooped up in the house for so long, I just got carried away. I am sorry if I seemed overly upset. I am so glad you have come to visit. Your company is the most precious gift you could give me at this time. I sorely needed it.s”
Lavinia was grateful when her friend smiled broadly and moved on to a different topic of conversation. She and her brother engaged in a short tit-for-tat that made all three of them laugh. Lavinia pushed thoughts of the Marquess of Kent out of her mind and began to relax again, preparing herself to enjoy a nice dinner with her two friends.
***
By the time the three of them finished dinner, Lavinia was feeling better than she had in months. The ache of losing her father had lost some of its sting and the current rumors threatening to ruin her reputation were not at the forefront of her mind.
Sir Henry pushed away his dessert plate and sat back, pulling his napkin from his lap and laying it on the table. The hour was growing late and they would have to leave if they wanted to reach their home at a reasonable time.“That was a fine meal, Miss Bronson,” he said. “I believe I will sleep better tonight than I have for some time.”
“I am glad to hear that, Sir Henry,” Lavinia smiled politely at him. “I have enjoyed your company today…” She slid her eyes to Anna, including her in the statement. “I am so glad you came to see me after being away for so long. We must not let so much time pass from now on.”
Anna nodded, standing up when her brother pulled her chair back slightly. Sir Henry went around the table and pulled Lavinia’s chair out for her as well. She curtsied to him, lowering her head.
“I will have the butler bring your things to the door. Will I see you at the Windingham ball?”
Anna grinned. “That depends on whether you make an appearance. Henry and I will be there. If you come, you will see us.”
Lavinia chuckled softly, walking with her friend through the grand foyer. Anna looked around. “This really is such a lovely home, Lavi. I am so glad to be able to visit whenever I want.”
“You are always welcome here, my friend.” Lavinia rested one hand on Anna’s arm and squeezed lightly.
After donning their jackets, gloves, and hats, Lavinia walked her two friends out to their carriage. Sir Henry helped his sister into it before turning to Lavinia.
She gave him a questioning look when he did not immediately follow Anna into the carriage.
“Miss Bronson, may I speak with you in private?”
Lavinia was taken aback by the sudden request. She tilted her head to the side, swiveling her eyes to Anna. Her friend looked surprised as well. She moved her eyes between her brother and Lavinia curiously.
A sharp sense of nervousness slid through Lavinia. She looked back at Sir Henry and nodded. “Yes, of course, sir, it would be my pleasure.”
The two of them moved a few feet away. When Sir Henry continued walking, as though he wanted to be as far away from the carriage as possible. Lavinia followed him, hurrying her steps so she walked in time with him, lifting a finger to the butler, who was standing at the top of the steps. The older man came down the steps slowly, staying in time with the two of them but a few steps behind.
Sir Henry walked slowly beside her, his hands clasped behind his back.
“Miss Bronson,” he began awkwardly. “We… we have known each other for some time now, have we not?” Sir Henry’s voice shook a little and he cleared his throat. Lavinia looked at him curiously.
“Yes, of course, sir. Our fathers were the dearest of friends. We have known each other since childhood.” Lavinia could not help wondering where this could possibly be going. Although she knew Sir Henry for many years, she had never really considered him a friend. He had always been simply her best friend’s elder brother. “It… it occurs to me that… with such a long history together… and our friendship, of course, yes that’s very important…” Sir Henry stammered through his words, appearing to suddenly be thinking of new things to say on the spur of the moment.
Fear struck Lavinia when she realized what he might be doing.
“I was thinking perhaps… it would be a good… a good match… for you and I to wed. I would be… honored to court you… if you are so inclined.”
Lavinia froze in place. She slowly turned toward him, stunned into silence. Of all the things she expected to hear, a proposal was not one of them. He stopped walking and faced her. “Are… you asking me to marry you, sir?” she asked, breathless from the shocking revelation.
He pressed his lips together and visibly swallowed. “I… Yes. Yes, I believe, I am.” He gave her a look of great confidence and determination, though it belied his true emotions.
Lavinia stared up at him, speechless for a moment. Where had this sudden proposal come from? Sir Henry had not expressed such interest in her before. She would never have suspected he harbored such feelings towards her
.
“I am honored to be asked, Sir,” Lavinia began, hesitantly. She pressed her lips together, taking a moment to think of a proper response. In the back of her mind, the thought of the Marquess suddenly popped. Something he had said about the prospective suitors. The warning he had attempted to give her.
“This is quite unexpected and, of course, I must speak to my mother about it first,” she continued. “Will you allow me some time to consult with her?” she asked, caution still evident in her voice.
Sir Henry looked disappointed he had not received an immediate acceptance. The frown on his face was quickly wiped away, however, and he tried a smile instead. It did not look particularly genuine, as it did not reach his eyes.
“Thank you, Miss Bronson. I look forward to hearing your decision soon.”
He turned and walked back to the carriage without another word. Lavinia followed and stood by the window of the carriage, waving to Anna as the driver pushed the horses on.
Irritation slid through her as she watched the carriage moving away. What was all of this? She had already received three proposals even though still in her mourning period and this was the fourth.
At first, while she was still in the first stages of mourning, she had not given a second thought to the proposals she had received. Now, with months having passed, her mind was much clearer. There was something not quite right about all of it.
Once again, the words of the Marquess breathed their vague warning in her mind, making her inexplicably shiver.
She had to demand an explanation from him, if only to appease her mind.
The rumors were still swirling, nearly six months after the funeral, and she had failed to escape them. People of the ton were saying she and the Marquess of Kent had a special bond they were trying to keep hidden from society. It did not matter. Something strange was going on and she had to find out what it was.
She would write a letter to the Marquess and demand answers. What was his reason for giving her such a dire warning and starting a flow of rumors about her through the ton? And how did he know that there would be suitors for her when her mourning period had not even ended?
Chapter 4
Myles strolled across the room, dropping his brief-bag on the chair in front of the desk before seating himself behind it. He had just returned from a lengthy trip abroad doing business with one of the most prominent members of the American government. He had also gotten a chance to see some astonishing places on the other continent.
He looked down at the thick stacks of letters, sorted by sender alphabetically.
The Marquess lifted his eyebrows in surprise. He hadn’t expected to come home to anything other than business correspondence. The top letter on the stack however was from Miss Lavinia Bronson.
He reached for it and, as he removed it from its brethren, realized all the letters of that particular stack were from Miss Bronson. He broke the small seal on the back to open the first one, curious.
It was pleasant enough, a simple response to the letter he had written her quite a while ago, asking her for the opportunity to speak with her again. She did not say if she would meet with him. She simply acknowledged receiving his letter, that she was doing well and needed no help from him.
As the weeks passed, however, her letters became irater. By the fifth week, she was demanding answers. Why had he not written back? What had he said to exacerbate the damage he did at her father’s funeral? She demanded a meeting with him, mentioning she had received several proposals and was alarmed by his words at her father’s funeral.
He was amused by the tone she took in her letters. She displayed great impatience in her final letters, wondering why he would not answer her.
He would not mention she had herself to blame for her worry. She had not let him finish. She cut him off and refused to listen. Now, her alarm stemmed from not knowing the details that he would gladly have given her. As much as he could anyway, as he was bound by his promise to Sir Edward.
Sir Edward had had an impatient streak about him that he told the Marquess had been passed on to his daughter. The man did not lie. Myles could see that very impatience in the letters he was reading.
He chuckled under his breath. She was fiery. He had not gotten that impression when he met her at the funeral. But he had to believe she was not herself that day. As Sir Edward’s daughter, she must have felt the impact of his loss more than anyone.
He had promised the old man to do what he could to keep her safe.
So far, the cost had been to his reputation alone. The rumors that were floating through the ton were not unpleasant ones but they were increasingly damaging to his and Lady Lavinia’s reputations. They could not go unanswered.
He wondered what Lord Ashdown and Sir Henry Astor were thinking. It was apparent from Miss Bronson’s most recent letters that they both had clearly proposed to court her. As he had heard nothing from Mr. Gentry yet, he could only assume Miss Bronson had made no solid decisions.
He grunted when he looked through more of the stack of letters. A letter from Gentry awaited him. He opened it and read the scrawled writing, going back over several words to try to understand what they said.
“Does this man even write in English?” he mumbled to himself, scanning the document with a frustrated sigh. The letter essentially said Lord Ashdown and Sir Henry Astor were still the only prospects Miss Bronson had. She had not been approached by anyone else and her mother had not received any offers from someone new.
Myles did not want to know how Gentry found out his information. He was just glad to know a bit more details than he had before. He set the letter aside and thought about what he wanted to do. His eyes slid over to the stack of letters. He sat back in his chair, steepling his fingers in front of his lips and tapping them as he pondered.
She was anxious to meet with him. He felt she must be anxious to hear what his warning would have been if she had just listened for a moment. If she was as smart as her father said she was, she would listen this time and heed his words accordingly. He wished there was a way he could make her understand that it was the Baronet who had given him this task.
The only time he had met her face to face was when he made a fool of himself at the funeral procession for Sir Edward. And she had proceeded to make a fool of herself, as well. She was partially to blame for the rumors spreading through the ton. Regardless, he would do his duty and abide by his word.
He still wished he had gone about that a different way. There were so many places and times he could have met with Lady Lavinia. Why he had chosen that day was beyond him.
The urgency he had felt stemmed from hearing of the old man’s death and knowing the vultures would quickly swarm around Lady Lavinia. Thankfully, he held her father’s secret, something he had vowed to do mere weeks before Sir Edward passed away.
He sighed, picking up one of Lady Lavinia’s letters again. She wrote in an elegant hand. Her handwriting gave him some insight into her character. To him, the sweeping motions, the large swoops and swirls, they all indicated the personality of someone who exuded strength and vigor. She came off as being an admirable woman to Myles.
He reached across his desk and pulled a piece of paper toward him, situating it so that it was secure in front of him on the blotter. He took the pen from its holder and dipped it in the nearby inkwell.
After gently tapping the tip of the pen on the blotter, he began to write.
Dear Miss Bronson,
It is with great bemusement that I have received and read your letters. I did not realize I needed to keep you apprised of my comings and goings. Since you are so interested, I will tell you that I have been on business out of the country.
I was delighted to read that you are doing well in the first letters I received from you. After reading the later letters, however, it has become apparent that a meeting between us is not only vital, but also beneficial for us both. I am dismayed that you had to wait so long for a response from me. Please accept my sincer
est apologies for that.
There is a ball next week at Windingham Manor. If you would care to meet me there, I would be delighted to sign your dance card and speak with you. Please respond with your decision at your earliest convenience. I look forward to hearing from you.
Kindest regards,
Myles Arlington, the Marquess of Kent.
Myles sat back in his chair, holding the letter up and reading through it as the ink dried. He waved it a few times in the air, thinking about Miss Bronson.
He could only hope that this time she would control her temper long enough to listen to what he wished to convey to her. She was headstrong but vulnerable at the same time. It was obvious by the escalating frustration she displayed in her letters. It awoke a strange protectiveness in Myles’s chest towards her, a protectiveness that surpassed that of mere duty.
He stood up, standing over the desk, folding the paper and sealing it with the Kent wax seal. It was the family crest, a beautiful shield with the holy cross displayed in the middle, a symbol on the four corners. The symbols represented the face of a lion, an eagle in flight, an angel’s wing and a coiled snake.