by Anne Stuart
"Delightful," Elizabeth echoed gloomily. "I presume you mean Sir Maurice Wingert? The only thing more tedious than aging politicians is aging soldiers."
"Sir Maurice is one of our great heroes," Sumner said repressively. "You are totally lacking in respect, Elizabeth."
"I know." She sighed. "And I presume he'll have the usual complement of stiff young men to cater to his every whim."
"Oh, doubtless. He's got a new one, not that wispy fellow who couldn't even ride properly." Sumner snorted, his one real talent being horsemanship. "Come on, old girl, it'll do us some good. Keep us from worrying about Jeremy."
A shadow crossed Elizabeth's face. "Why haven't we heard from him, Sumner?"
"You know as well as I that he quite often doesn't get the chance to write nowadays. This wretched undercover work requires that we be kept completely in the dark. I don't like it, but what can we do?"
"Nothing, I suppose." She rose from her cramped, uncomfortable chair. There was only one decent seat in the room, and Sumner, of course, had claimed that as his own. "Shall I see to tea5" she inquired, suddenly ravenous. Sumner, like herself, was fond of food, although he never seemed to add an ounce to his trim frame, whereas her robust health had an unfortunate tendency to become a mite too robust on occasion.
"I trust we'll have more than dried-out salt biscuits," he remarked somewhat pettishly. "If you need to slim down, I fail to see why I too must suffer."
"There's a great deal to be said for mortifying the flesh," she replied limpidly. "I've had Mrs. Gibson make up a fresh batch of ginger biscuits. Six for you, six for me."
"Unfair!"
"It is perfectly fair," she said cheerfully. "I cannot resist temptation; therefore, temptation must be removed from my path and perforce from yours too. You wouldn't wish me to arrive at Winfields rivaling poor Adolphus in my girth, would you?"
"Two days will hardly give you enough time to put on that much," he muttered, scattering papers with a petulant shove. He was a man who liked his creature comforts.
"Well, then, why don't you speak to Mrs. Gibson and have her bring you some nice warm scones in your study later on? As long as I am unaware of their existence, I shan't mind," she allowed graciously.
"I fail to see why I must hide away in my study to eat," he cried. "Who runs this house, anyway?"
"I do."
He paused, nonplussed. "Well, who is the master of it, then?"
She dropped a kiss on the noble brow that had caused more than one susceptible parishioner to entertain lustful thoughts. "I am," she said, and whisked herself out the door, leaving her brother fuming, determined to sulk in his study until she returned to beg his pardon. But five minutes later, with visions of hot buttered scones and fresh ginger biscuits dancing in his head, he strode into the warm and cozy little drawing room that was Elizabeth's particular retreat. He found his sister curled up on the love seat by the fire, her feet tucked under her, a French novel of dubious social merit in one well-shaped hand and a cup of tea nearly finished by her side. On the plate in front of her were two solitary-looking ginger biscuits.
Sumner eyed her with great sadness. "You promised me six," he said incomprehensibly, and then she realized that he meant the biscuits. She smiled up at him with that lightning change of expression that turned her face from passably pretty to almost beautiful.
"Not to worry, Sumner. I had Mrs. Gibson hide them from me. I'm sorry I teased you, dearest. I will go to Winfields. I will be on my best behavior, and you'll have no cause to blush for me."
Settling down opposite her (though he would have preferred the comfortable sofa, he thought fretfully), Sumner let out a sigh of relief. Elizabeth could be such a triai at times. "And you won't set Adolphus's back up?" he questioned warily.
She handed him his tea. "I will flirt just the proper amount with Adolphus. I will convince Lady Eifreda of my disinterest. I will be respectful to Sir Maurice, polite to the boring young adjutant. Was there anyone else?"
"Miss Q'Shea," he said, and his sister didn't miss the slight change in his mellifluous voice.
"I will be charming and friendly to Brenna O'Shea, with just the proper hint of condescension since she is a poor relation. That's what you wish, isn't it?" she inquired impishly.
"It is not! Miss O'Shea is a very nice young lady who thinks just as she ought about all things. You could take a lesson or two in deportment from her," he replied defensively.
The smile lit Elizabeth's golden-brown eyes once more. "I will study Miss O'Shea's behavior that I might learn proper deportment, and I will keep my tongue in my head at all times. What more could you ask, Sumner dear?"
He eyed her warily. "I could ask that there was even the slightest chance such a thing could happen. But the age of miracles has passed."
Elizabeth smiled. "Cheer up, Sumner. At the very worst, we are in for an extremely boring weekend. Nothing ever - happens at Cousin Adolphus's houseparties. Nothing at all."
Friday
Chapter 2
Winfields was a very ancient, very grand estate. The first Wingert had come over from France with William the Conqueror and had haughtily accepted as his due some fifty thousand of the ripest acres in Dorset. During the long centuries that followed, the Wingerts had erected Winfields, with each generation adding something to its overwhelming consequence and lack of beauty, till now it rambled and towered and loomed over the remaining five thousand acres (some of the Wingerts had been fatally addicted to gaming) with a ramshackle air that would have been comical had it not been for the sheer force of the Wingert family pride. The current incumbent, Baron Adolphus Wingert, squire of the village, justice of the peace, eligible bachelor and devoted son, spent as little time there as his duties would allow. But Adolphus was ever zealous in performing his duties, one of which was to entertain his distant cousin Sumner Traherne and that toothsome sister of his for a weekend just before the season started in London.
Another of his duties was to wed and beget an heir. His mother, the formidable Lady Eifreda Wingert, never failed to bring this up, and so at age forty Adolphus had finally decided to capitulate. With the right sort of female who knew better than to interfere in his life, he could continue on with his comfortable existence. The only question left was who the lucky girl would be.
There was Brenna, of course. When she had first arrived from Ireland to serve as his mother's companion, Adolphus had had little doubt she was one of his mother's selected brides. And indeed, she was a nice enough girl, biddable and sweet-tempered, but a bit on the bony side. Adolphus liked his females well rounded. His mind slipped back to Elizabeth Traherne, and he licked his thick pink lips.
"Adolphus!" His mother's piercing tones startled him out of a pleasant if somewhat lascivious reverie. With a great sigh and creaking of stays he rose from his comfortable chair and ambled off in the direction of that demanding voice.
It was a laborious process. Adolphus Wingert prided himself on his resemblance to his idol, the Prince Regent. Indeed, their girths were similar, with Adolphus having a slight edge. They had the same milky blue eyes, with golden waves trimmed and arranged a la Brutus. If Adolphus didn't affect quite the extremes of fashion Prinny was wont to, at least he was both colorful and elegant, and his stays were far tighter. Not only did the whalebone corseting hold his somewhat excessive stomach in check, it forced him to walk bolt upright, adding to the air of consequence he liked to affect. That it also interfered with his breathing, particularly after a heavy meal (and he ate no light ones), was merely one of the little annoyances one had to cope with in a less than perfect life.
By the time he traversed the hallway, descended three short steps, turned two sharp corners, and went up another four steps to his mother's salmon and apple-green sitting room, he was quite winded and had to content himself with staring, glassy-eyed, at his mother's indomitable figure.
Lady Elfreda Wingert was spare as her only child was corpulent. She was fully six feet tall, with long, thin arms and stron
g hands that enjoyed pinching and slapping at the servants and her overgrown son, a narrow face adorned with a long, thin nose, two small, hard blue eyes, a thin-lipped mouth, and an expression of perpetual disapproval. Added to this unpleasant expression was an air of hauteur that was outdone only by her son. It was no wonder that the pretty young girl at her side had an unhappy expression lingering in eyes so green they could only be Irish.
"The Trahernes have arrived," she said in her cold, carrying tones. "I wonder if you know what absurd hopes you are encouraging in that young woman's breast by inviting them here every year? Soon she will be having airs above her station, fancying herself the future Lady Wingert, and I shall be forced to give her a sharp setdown, making it impossible for me to attend my own church. Why you constantly refuse to listen to me is a wonder, when I have only your own best interests at heart."
"Now, now, Mama," he said soothingly between gasps for air. "Elizabeth is a very nice young lady. A less encroaching lady I have yet to find. Why, she even pretends that she has no interest in my attentions at all. How could one ask for more maidenly modesty?"
"Attentions?" Lady Elfreda had picked up the key word, and her voice rose sharply. "You haven't been paying her any marked attention, have you, Dolph?"
"Not yet," he admitted.
"Well, thank heavens for that. A more managing female I have yet to meet. If you wish to leg shackle yourself to an underbred, sharp-tongued hoyden who'd have you living under the cat's paw for the rest of your days, then I wash my hands of you. At age forty you should be old enough to know better."
"Now, Mama, you know I will be guided by your wise judgment in such matters," he said soothingly. "I would never willfully cause you any discomfort. But you wouldn't wish me to shirk my duty. The Trahernes are distant cousins, and I am Sumner's patron. It is necessary to entertain them occasionally, and what with Uncle Maurice arriving with his retinue, I couldn't think of a better time. Dispense with two duties at once, eh?"
"And that is another matter, Dolph. Out of the blue your uncle announces he is coming down to Winfields, without even asking whether or not it is convenient for us. And he's bringing not only that wretched young man I've heard so much about but a female besides! Some foreign woman. I told him he absolutely could not, but he ignored me. So like your dear father. I don't know what this world is coming to that I should have to entertain foreigners and poor relations at table, not to mention out- and-out traitors such as young Fraser. I can only thank heaven Sir Henry Hatchett and dear Beatrice chose this weekend to come also, or I might fear I'd be murdered in my bed. The next thing you know I'll be having the tenant farmers in for tea."
"Mama, I think you'd best watch your step about young Fraser. Nothing has been proved, you know. They would hardly have made him Uncle's adjutant if there was any blot on his record."
"They would hardly have made him your uncle's adjutant if there weren't a blot on his record. After his service in the Peninsula and the remarkable job he did in Vienna, there must be something terribly wrong for him to have been relegated to the position of high-class servant to an aging general. And I have little doubt you know exactly what it is," she added shrewdly.
"If I did, I would hardly be likely to spread such slander," said Adolphus loftily.
Lady Elfreda sighed, absently reaching out and giving her silent young companion a sharp pinch on the knee. "Help me to the front hall, Brenna," she ordered crisply. "Much as I dislike Miss Traherne, I suppose it would only lower myself to be petty and not welcome her."
"That's my dear mother," Adolphus said approvingly, nearly earning a pinch for himself. "And I'm certain you've judged Miss Traherne too harshly. She's a very charming young lady with just a trace too much liveliness of tongue."
The lady with the lively tongue was standing in the large, drafty front hall of Winfields, staring about her with undisguised amusement. "How anyone could want to live in such a place is beyond me," she whispered loudly to her brother as she grimaced at the lofty caverns above her. "I wouldn't be at all surprised if they have bats."
"Hush, Elizabeth!" Sumner hissed, holding his well-proportioned frame upright as his hosts approached with regal ceremony. "For once, try to make a good impression," he pleaded.
"Why?" she questioned in an undertone as the Wingert family reached them.
"Well, well, little Elizabeth," Adolphus said jovially. "You must allow me a cousin's prerogative." Before she could divine his intention, she found herself firmly seized and a great wet kiss planted just beneath her left eye. At the same time a pudgy hand happened to squeeze her breast. Before she could slap him, he moved nimbly out of reach, greeting her brother with a comradely condescension that never failed to grate on her nerves. Before she could regain her composure, a thin bejeweled hand was held out to her. She looked up into Lady Elfreda's lizardlike eyes with a small shudder of dismay. Belatedly she reached out to take the hand, and Lady Elfreda dropped it, leaving Elizabeth standing awkwardly with her hand outstretched, feeling, as always with that woman, clumsy and ill-bred.
"You haven't changed, dear Elizabeth," Lady Elfreda said with a malicious smile. "How delightful that you could come to us for the weekend. Things get so tiresome this time of year, waiting for the season to begin." Before Elizabeth could reply, she sailed onward, greeting Sumner with the smile she reserved for handsome young men who treated her with the proper deference. Sumner knew the proper amount of flattery and shy respect to a nicety.
"Hallo, Elizabeth." Brenna's cool Irish voice broke through Elizabeth's irritation. "It's nice to see you again."
No warmth from this quarter, either, thought Elizabeth dolefully, eyeing the dark-haired, green-eyed little beauty in front of her with a hopeful smile. Brenna O'Shea had never shown any interest in Elizabeth's overtures of friendship during the six months she'd been in residence at Winfields, and by now Elizabeth had given up on her. Those green eyes only warmed, inexplicably, when they rested on her brother's admirable form.
The small, stilted group was moving into one of the more formal drawing rooms that were scattered around Winfields like a rabbit's warren, and there was nothing for Elizabeth to do but take up the rear, watching Brenna's slender little back with a twinge of jealousy. It must be nice to have a waist that was barely a man's hand span, she thought mournfully, fully aware that her own ripe curves constituted a more generous handful. Elizabeth sighed, seated herself as far from Lady Elfreda's disapproving attention but as near the tray of delicious cakes as possible, and accepted her fate.
Unfortunately, Adolphus had been watching both the cakes and Elizabeth closely. While his mother was distracted with serving the tea and evincing a proper interest in Sumner's charming anecdotes, the portly baron slipped to Elizabeth's side, a faint spattering of crumbs trailing across a baby-blue superfine jacket that had taken five ells to make up.
"What a treat to see you again, Cousin Elizabeth," he breathed. "And you're looking more stunning than ever. A fine, strapping figure of a girl," he said, licking his lips as if in anticipation of a tasty morsel.
Not this tasty morsel, thought Elizabeth firmly, giving him an unencouraging smile and edging as far away as the narrow chair would allow. "It's nice to see you again, Sir Adolphus," she replied distantly.
"Heavens, how formal we're being! You must call me Dolph, Cousin. After all, we're related."
"You are too kind, to call a mere connection a relationship," she said vaguely. "Your mother is looking well. You must be very fond of her." She could think of no reason for him to be, but Adolphus nodded sagely.
"A wonderful woman, my mother," he said. "But tell me about yourself, young lady. Any importunate young gentlemen hanging around, wishing to slip a ring on that pretty little hand?"
Elizabeth shuddered inwardly at the coy tone of voice as she glanced down at her strong, capable hands that were itching to box Adolphus's ears. "I am devoted to my brothers, as you know, Cousin," she said demurely. "Miss O'Shea is looking lovelier than ever," she
added somewhat desperately.
His bulbous blue eyes never left her. "She's well enough," he replied, dismissing Brenna with one wave of a pudgy hand. "She hasn't your fire, my girl. And what's the news from that scamp Jeremy? Can we hope to see him soon?"
"Oh, I do hope so." Elizabeth sighed. "But we've had no definite word. I suppose that's just as well. We'd know soon enough if anything was wrong."
"Of course you would," he said soothingly, reaching out and patting her knee. He allowed his hand to rest there, and Elizabeth quickly shifted position, giving him an ingenuous smile as he was forced to move back. "Tell me, does that brother of yours allow you any freedom?"
"None at all," she replied quickly. "Sumner's a very high stickler. When is your uncle due?"
A shadow crossed his ruddy face. "Sometime this evening. I trust your brother has warned you about Michael Fraser?"
The name had a distant ring to it, but for the life of her Elizabeth couldn't remember the connection. "He may have done," she replied cautiously. "I'm afraid I don't remember. Who is Michael Fraser?"
"My uncle's current adjutant. He's from an old and proud Scottish family; younger son, I believe. A career man in the army and done well for himself and his country over the last years. Distinguished himself in the peninsular action and was considered quite promising in Vienna last year."
"Sounds estimable," Elizabeth said, stifling her yawn. "Just what a general's secretary should be."
"Not at all. Fraser was destined for much more important things than fetching and carrying for someone like Uncle Maurice, who's on the very edge of retiring. I don't know the details of it, but something very unpleasant happened after Vienna." Adolphus leaned closer, his breath hot on Elizabeth's averted cheek. "Nothing anyone could prove, I gather, because he wasn't clapped in irons. But it was a near thing."