A Chance Gone By (Brides By Chance Regency Adventures Book 2)

by Elizabeth Bailey

He could drum up no words to describe Selina’s possible attitude towards the household. They would find out soon enough how prickly and difficult she could be.

  “We will all do our best to make her welcome, Justin.”

  “I’m sure you will.” He knew his tone was colourless, and tried to adjust it. “I know I can rely on you.”

  “You can indeed.” She smiled. “I daresay Lady Selina may find it odd that I am so very much involved in the running of the house. But I will naturally hand over the management to her whenever she wishes it.”

  Justin could think of nothing to say to this. He had no notion how Selina would play it when she took up her position as Lady Purford. If he was to judge of their relationship so far, he could see only a crumbling disintegration into separate lives. A dismal prospect. He must make more of an effort and find a way to get her to respond to him.

  He glanced at Marianne, who was pouring herself a refill from the coffee pot. Why could he not succeed with Selina as he did with Marianne? He had never had the slightest difficulty in cajoling or teasing her into the comfortable interaction they had enjoyed. Until now. It struck him she had become as unpredictable as his betrothed.

  A stray thought caught at him. Was she jealous? No, impossible. She was unhappy at the lack of closeness — intimacy she’d almost called it. She could scarcely be jealous of Selina. She hardly knew her. Did she, like Selina, feel neglected?

  The thought no sooner entered his mind than he gave it voice. “Marianne, have I neglected you? Is that why you are distant? Did you begin to think I no longer valued our friendship?”

  Marianne was staring at him, her eyes wide, the coffee cup frozen by her lips. He could not read her expression and it was a moment before she answered. He watched her as she turned away and set down her cup in its saucer. Was she thinking how to reply? It occurred to him he was not going to get the truth.

  When she looked at him again, the startle was gone from her eyes and the smile on her lips did not reach there. “Perhaps a little. We scarcely saw you for months. I did miss you. Though we were very busy preparing for Jocasta’s come-out. I suppose … I suppose I felt the coming change.” She smiled again, and the bleakness of it struck at Justin like the cold of winter. “Perhaps I’ve been trying to adjust.”

  Had not they all? But he could not say that. Instead he gave her the truth. “Never imagine, Marianne, that I don’t value the closeness we share. If you ever need me — for anything at all — I am yours to command. You must know it.”

  Justin saw the tremble at her mouth, and, with a lurch in his chest, the moisture gathering in her eyes. Her voice, when she spoke, was husky.

  “Thank you, Justin. I needed that.”

  Then she leapt from her chair and walked quickly out of the parlour, leaving him peculiarly bereft.

  Chapter Six

  April had warmed up and Marianne seized the opportunity to get out of the house and blow her crotchets away with a brisk walk. Lately she’d been tied up sharing the task of chaperoning Jocasta since the Dragon had retired to bed with a sore throat which had developed into a full-blown cold. Never one to mince words, she’d told Marianne — the only member of the family permitted into her chamber — that she could not risk her charge taking it from her.

  “I will not reappear until all possibility of infection is past. We cannot have the child falling ill. Dear Lady Purford has several delicate nudgings on hand and it could be fatal to interrupt them. Pray convey my apologies to their ladyships.”

  Marianne replied suitably, knowing Jocasta would jump for joy at the news. Not so Grace, who wavered between dread of catching the cold herself and bemoaning the lack of Miss Stubbings to keep Jocasta in line.

  No one, thought Marianne wryly, worried that she might go down with the Dragon’s cold. She was rarely ill, although so pulled at present she would not have been surprised if she succumbed.

  As well she did not, since she had no time to spare to coddle herself. The chambermaid Nancy, detailed to wait upon the Dragon, took the cold from her, and conveyed it to the kitchen maid. As the harassed Mrs Woofferton confided to Marianne, to have two of her girls out of action and the rest of the servants’ hall in danger was enough to send a lesser body into strong hysterics. Marianne directed her to hire a couple of temporary maids and privately asked Simon to take as much of the burden off the housemaid as he could.

  “We can’t have poor Ellen trudging up and down the stairs with hot water jugs as well as dusting the downstairs rooms before breakfast. And Mrs Woofferton won’t ask you, I know, as she doesn’t like to encroach upon Rowsham’s domain.”

  Simon grinned. “Mr Rowsham has already given me the office to do downstairs, Miss Marianne, but I’ll help Ellen carry the jugs too.”

  What with the domestic crisis and taking Jocasta about when Grace’s strength failed her, Marianne should have been far too occupied to dwell on her own unhappiness. But the nagging ache returned whenever she had a spare moment and Justin was never far from her thoughts.

  She saw little of him and could not decide whether it was a blessing or a curse. She would have to become accustomed since this was how it would be for the future. But her stubborn heart refused to obey the dictates of her mind. She missed him, and in the rare times she saw him, her consciousness in his presence prevented her from saying anything but the most commonplace remarks.

  It came as a relief therefore to don her bronze pelisse and the new chip straw hat, and slip away with the excuse of going to change Grace’s library books. She headed towards Old Bond Street, enjoying the fresh air and entered Hookham’s Circulating Library with a lighter heart.

  It was pleasant to browse the shelves, her eyes passing idly over titles she might like to read but knew would not appeal to Grace. She kept her eyes open for tales by Fanny Burney or Clara Reeve, while hankering rather for Swift or the amusement of Fielding.

  She had just spotted Camilla, one of her cousin’s favourites, when her eye was caught by a couple a few feet away. They were standing close enough to whisper and had chosen a discreet corner for their rendezvous.

  Marianne must suppose it was a rendezvous for the man, dressed in the scarlet coat and white breeches of the military, had one hand clasped upon the female’s upper arm and his head bent towards her as he talked in a fashion that looked particularly earnest. The woman had her back to Marianne, but by the cut of her blue spencer, the elegance of her gown and the frivolous beribboned bonnet, she was a lady of fashion.

  As Marianne watched, she turned her head, presenting a lovely profile and a glimpse of dark hair.

  A jolt of recognition went through Marianne. Lady Selina Wilkhaven!

  Conjecture rattled through her mind as Marianne saw Justin’s betrothed move to one side, changing her position sufficiently to be able to notice the attention. Their eyes met. Lady Selina’s brows drew together briefly, and then cleared as she let out a gasp.

  The instant of consternation was swiftly conquered. Lady Selina stepped away from her cavalier and moved to Marianne, holding out her hand.

  “How do you do? You are a relative of Justin’s, are you not?”

  The mellow voice was matched by the graciousness Marianne had first encountered. Astonished by the woman’s quick recover, she took the hand, trying for a like insouciance.

  “His cousin.” Realising that Lady Selina had forgotten her name, she supplied it. “I am Marianne Timperley. In truth, I am Lady Purford’s cousin, but Justin is kind enough to include me in his family circle.”

  Lady Selina smiled, but Marianne thought she looked brittle.

  “Ah, I understand.” Selina gestured to her companion and he came forward. “You must allow me to present Colonel O’Donovan. Miss Timperley, Gregory.”

  Marianne noted the informality of her address to the man. Had the Christian name slipped out? The military gentleman bowed from his superior height. As Marianne dropped a curtsy, she decided he looked all too conscious. Was this an assignation? Lady Seli
na’s next words showed she felt her situation called for explanation.

  “Colonel O’Donovan is an old family friend from Yorkshire. I’ve been acquainted with him from childhood, you must know. Such a surprise to see him here.”

  The colonel spoke up. A deep voice, redolent with feeling. “I’ve been abroad, ma’am. My regiment was posted back to England only a short while ago. It was a … pleasant surprise to meet Selina — I mean Lady Selina — in this place.”

  He glanced, as he spoke, at the surrounding shelves, as if he had never seen them before. Suspicion deepened in Marianne’s mind.

  “You are fond of reading, colonel?”

  He looked startled. “Why, yes. Though such opportunities are few.”

  “I imagine they might be.” Marianne hoped her tone was not too dry. Lady Selina was eyeing her in a way that made her feel like a predatory snake. It became imperative to demonstrate disinterest. She smiled brightly. “I have come for my cousin Lady Purford. Her eyes are bad and she likes me to read to her.”

  “How kind,” murmured Lady Selina, and a measure of relief seeped into her countenance. “Though I dare say it must be a tedious duty.”

  “I enjoy reading aloud. Besides, it is the least I can do.”

  Lady Selina’s brows rose. “I understood you do a great deal more for Lady Purford.”

  What had Justin been saying about her? The notion he had mentioned her to Lady Selina was not welcome. Or was she doing him an injustice?

  “Indeed? Did Justin tell you that?”

  “No, I had it from his aunt.”

  “Lady Luthrie?”

  “She is a friend of my mother’s, you must know.”

  Worse and worse. God send that interfering busybody had not confided her plans for Marianne’s future to this creature or her mother! She made haste to change the subject, turning to the colonel. He was not precisely handsome, but a trim moustache and a small scar running down the edge of his left cheek gave him a dashing air. Perhaps Lady Selina was not to be blamed if she was a trifle dazzled.

  “Do you make a long stay, sir?”

  He reddened. Now why?

  “I hardly know. It depends. My plans are uncertain.”

  “Colonel O’Donovan is subject to the whim of the regiment,” cut in Lady Selina, in so obvious an attempt to relieve him that Marianne’s grew even more suspicious. “I hope to see a little more of him before he is whisked away.”

  “Your parents too, no doubt.” There was no mistaking the alarm in the colonel’s face. Marianne smiled. “A family friend, I thought you said?”

  Lady Selina’s answering smile became fixed, though it did not reach her eyes. “Just so.” She inclined her head. “I must take my leave, or I shall be late for an engagement.”

  The colonel started. “Allow me to escort you as far as the carriage, ma’am.”

  “So kind, thank you. Goodbye, Miss Timperley.”

  Marianne returned her nod, dropped a curtsy to the colonel, who was bowing, and watched Lady Selina leave Hookham’s, her hand demurely resting on the gentleman’s arm.

  All desire to find a book had left Marianne. She stared unseeingly at the shelves, her mind seething with question.

  There was undoubtedly something between the two. That it was a chance meeting she did not believe for a moment. Both were far too conscious, though Lady Selina covered it better. Besides, their attitude before they had perceived her was far too intimate to suggest anything other than a pre-arranged meeting. The rhythm of her pulse speeded up with a ridiculous rise of hope. Which sank again almost immediately.

  That this was a prior attachment was clear. Colonel O’Donovan might be a disappointed lover, might have only learned of the betrothal on his return, but he must have known about Lady Selina’s expectations. That she returned his regard was evident, but it was equally apparent any proposed match between these two had been thwarted long before Justin offered.

  Had the colonel been an acceptable parti, Lady Selina had ample time to persuade her parents into cancelling the arrangement made between the lords Sessay and Purford years ago. No, this was a dream as impossible as her own had been.

  Pity rose in her, together with a spurt of rage at the insensitivity of both fathers. Why must four people be made unhappy merely for the sake of status? An earl’s daughter to marry an earl? Yes, an excellent match in Society’s eyes. But what a dreadful waste!

  For if Lady Selina was in love with this Gregory O’Donovan, she could never make Justin happy. How sad to be obliged to marry against her heart. Sadder still to cause distress in the abandoned lover as well as the prospective, unsuspecting husband.

  All thought of her own misery vanished in the abrupt realisation that Lady Selina must fear to be betrayed. She might well imagine Marianne would relay the encounter to Justin.

  She was instantly beset with the vexed question of what she ought to do. Should she warn Justin? Was it fair to stay silent and allow him to marry Lady Selina when she was clearly in love with another? On the other hand, if Lady Selina had indeed given up her love on the altar of duty, what right had Marianne to interfere? Worse yet, was she reading more than was justified into a meeting that might be quite innocent?

  With the couple no longer before her, doubt crept in. Had she made a false judgement? Even had they met by design, it could well betoken nothing more than a nostalgic moment alone. Perhaps the attachment between them had faded and this was a chance to revisit a childish fancy?

  Oh, she was grasping at straws! Let her be honest. It would suit her all too well if Lady Selina was truly in love with another. Not that Justin could be hers if the creature did cry off. But the tiny vestige of hope was enough for her to weave a fantasy to fit her dreams.

  It would not do to dwell on it. Nor should she interfere. To speak of it would put the cat among the pigeons, and for what? Even had she gauged the situation with accuracy, it was better for Justin to remain in ignorance. She might trust Lady Selina to behave with circumspection, for she had been hasty enough to gloss over the incident.

  Thus decided, Marianne brought her attention to bear on choosing a novel for Grace, and thrust the matter to the back of her mind. Where it remained, niggling and malignant, like a spider watching for its prey.

  Chapter Seven

  Although Marianne necessarily met with Lady Selina once or twice at events where she chaperoned Jocasta, she saw no sign of the mysterious colonel. As Lady Selina was invariably accompanied by Justin this was scarcely surprising. But at a soirée given by Mrs Guineaford, which Grace refused to attend on the score that the woman had stayed away from her own musical evening, she noticed Gregory O’Donovan among the coterie of gentlemen surrounding the beauty.

  Her attention caught, she watched for any sign of tenderness or contact between them. It was many days since she had caught them in Hookham’s together, in an obviously clandestine meeting. Yet here he was, openly forming one of her court.

  Her gaze intent, Marianne noted how his eyes strayed to Lady Selina each time she laughed, although he was engaged in conversation with one of the other gentlemen around her. Elegant as ever in a silver spotted robe over a muslin gown, Selina appeared to be in spirits, exchanging banter impartially with one or other of her cavaliers. But not once with the colonel. Did that bode ill or well?

  Marianne returned her attention to him. Was he a trifle stiff? Unlike the fellow he was talking to, he did not look relaxed. Or was it merely a military bearing?

  She was just wondering where Justin was in all this when he spoke immediately behind her.

  “Taken a fancy to a redcoat, have you, Marianne?”

  She jumped, turning to face him. He was grinning down at her with that teasing glint in his eye she knew so well. Her heartbeat became instantly irregular and her breath caught in her chest.

  “Nothing of the sort,” she managed, her mind half frozen. Heavens, what could she say? How to explain why she was staring so hard?

  Justin did not appear to
notice her condition. “A dashing fellow, isn’t he? I’d have thought it might appeal to you to follow the drum, with your family history.”

  “Papa was in the Navy, and before you ask, I don’t hanker for a life at sea either.” She spoke with more instinct than ease, but he laughed. Her relief was short-lived.

  “Shall I tell Selina to relinquish him to you? She can afford to lose at least one of her cicisbeos.”

  Marianne could not prevent the words from leaving her lips. “Don’t you mind?”

  His brows rose. “Should I? Isn’t it the height of fashion to have one’s betrothed sought after by other men?”

  “Is it? I hadn’t noticed.”

  The smile left his eyes and his lip curled. “Don’t be naïve, Marianne. You are aware of the circumstances.”

  Her heart ached for him. More so with the secret suspicion she cherished. “Meaning you don’t care.”

  “Meaning I care very much indeed, but we are none of us masters of our fate.”

  The bitter note was unmistakable. She toyed briefly with the notion of speaking up. If it would procure his release, did she not owe him that loyalty? If only she could be sure she had not imagined it.

  “You are very thoughtful. What is it, Marianne?”

  The gentler note cut her to shreds. What in the world was she to say? She improvised. “Oh, I … I was thinking of Jocasta. She has shown no preference, but I’m afraid Cousin Grace has decided views on who will suit. I only hope the poor girl is not thrust into marriage with … with…”

  “With a man she cannot care for?” His voice was hard. “Have no fear. Any suitor must pass through me before she can marry. I won’t let her be made unhappy, be sure.”

  “Yes, I had forgot you are her guardian. Of course you won’t.”

  Her response was mechanical. His own obvious unhappiness raked her, raising again the dread question dividing her mind. Should she warn him? Or would that be to bring a world of trouble tumbling down upon his head?

  She was no nearer a decision a few mornings later when Lady Sessay came to call upon Grace with the object of discussing wedding plans. Gowned in an overdress of pink and black striped satin, she put Grace’s plain blue gown into the shade. But her manner was perfectly amiable and not at all patronising.