The Savage Lord Griffin

by Joan Smith

  He danced with Miss Warwick from Headcorn, and, to judge by their smiles, gave several married ladies the thrill of the season by flirting delightfully with them. In fact, he danced with everyone he should except Alice herself. She felt the omission, but could not lay the offense in his dish, as she had as well as refused him in the conservatory.

  Lady Sara got a little out of hand at the late supper. She sat at Griffin's right side, and did her best to monopolize his conversation. She could not feel a simple country party of sufficient import that the more formal rules of London need be obeyed—by her, at least. Griffin, aware of Alice's assessing stare, tried to divide his conversation with his other partner, but found it hard sledding. Sara kept harping at him.

  “I hope you are going to play some waltzes, Griffin. What a dowdy party it will seem if you do not."

  “I have held them off until after supper. I fear many of the local belles have not taken up the waltz yet. Not all the world is so dissipated as you and I,” he joked.

  This was exactly the sort of conversation to please her. Her eyes flashed a warm smile. “You and I are past redeeming, ça va sans dire. I had forgotten how outré these provincials are. How do they endure their assemblies, with no waltzing?"

  “You are asking the wrong person, Sara. I endured five years without even the pleasure of a minuet, or country dance."

  “Ah, but you had that famous tribal dance to take its place—to say nothing of Indian princesses. Not a word about a certain Princess Nwani. Travel is so broadening. I have been to the Continent, of course, but real travel to South America or Brazil— how I would love it."

  “You might feel differently after taking a few meals from your lap, swatting midges and other insects."

  “It would not bother me in the least. I like variety—midges and waltzes. We shall show the locals the way. Let us dance all the waltzes together."

  “All of them?"

  “Yes, why not? It is only a little country rout after all."

  “But it is my part of the country, Sara. My reputation is already ragged after my recent set-to with Dunsmore."

  “The man is a fool. Did I say man? That is an in-suit to real men like you."

  Griffin did agree to have the first set of waltzes with Lady Sara. He had not much choice in the matter. Many of the provincial ladies had not yet learned the waltz. They were shuffling around the edge of the floor with their partners, but he sensed they would not like to expose their lack of skill to the local lord. Alice and Miss Sutton had moved in from the edges with their partners. Alice, he noticed, was standing up with Monty. He mentioned to Sara that he wondered what those two found to talk about.

  “Why, they have been neighbors these five years. I should not be much surprised if there is a match hatching there."

  “Monty and Alice Newbold?” he laughed. “Not a chance."

  “Whyever not? You must have noticed how close they are. She ran over to sit by him the minute he arrived the first evening of our visit. The Newbolds are nothing special, of course. They have no noble connections whatsoever. If Myra had not nabbed Dunsmore, the younger sister would be doing well enough to marry Monty. I doubt her dot is as large as Myra's, and she lacks her sister's beauty. But I do not have to point out Myra's beauty to you, Griffin. You were the first to spot it,” she said graciously. There was no danger from Myra; she could be an incomparable with no fear of competition.

  Griffin was aware of a burning sensation deep in his chest. Monty and Alice? It was absurd. Yet it was Alice who had suggested he give Monty the dower house, and the job as his manager. She had spoken highly of him. Monty had been running tame in the neighborhood for five years. It was odd Sal had not accepted any of those offers she had been boasting of in London, now that he thought of it. He watched them as Monty whirled around the floor with Alice.

  There was no lack of smiles and conversation. As he pondered the matter, Sara spoke. “I wonder if Miss Alice will have Montgomery, now that you are back. It was supposed that Monty would assume your title and estate. That was why he was permitted to dangle after her, I daresay. Now that you are back and have reclaimed Mersham, she may give him his congé."

  “Alice is not like that,” he said, a little hot under the collar. “If she loves him, she will marry him."

  “Unless she can find herself a duke,” Sara said sagely. “Sorry, Griffin, but you sounded so annoyed I could not resist needling you.” The waltz ended.

  Across the floor, Alice said, “You waltz very well, Monty."

  “It is hot work, is it not?” he replied. “I believe I shall open the door for a breath of air."

  “I shall go with you."

  They strolled to the west door to catch the fragrance from the gardens. The moonlight lured them outside. It shone palely, turning the flowers into a ghost garden, etched in black and white. They remained on the doorstep, just looking and sniffing the perfume. The door swung to behind them, unnoticed.

  “I have been meaning to thank you for putting in a good word for me, Miss Alice,” Monty said. “Griffin mentioned the idea was yours."

  “It was just common sense. Everyone knows you are an excellent manager."

  “I was most surprised that the idea came from you. You did not care for me at first, I think?"

  Alice's early animosity to Montgomery was only resentment of the idea that Griffin would not be returning. She had always regretted it, and this was the perfect time to apologize, as she did not wish to explain.

  “I was only a child at the time. It was not that I did not care for you, Monty. Indeed, everyone speaks highly of you. Even Griffin thinks you have done a very good job."

  “Kind of you to say so, my dear,” he said, giving her shoulder an avuncular pat. “It did not help that I came to cuffs with Lady Griffin, and she removed to the dower house. I did not ask her to go, you know, though I own I did not try to prevent her."

  The door opened abruptly, striking Alice a blow on the shoulder. Montgomery put out an arm to steady her. “Oh, it is you, Griffin,” he said, surprised.

  Griffin's sharp eyes glanced off the arm that was holding Alice. His expression stiffened. “Mama was wondering where you are, Alice,” he lied. “Perhaps it would be best if Montgomery entertain you within doors. It looks a little fast, the two of you slipping out here."

  “Just catching a breath of air,” Montgomery explained. The aura of guilt that tinged his words had no cause except having offended his benefactor. “Shall we go in, Alice?” He left his hand on her arm to lead her inside.

  Griffin just looked at the offending hand. It fell, and Montgomery said, “Or perhaps—er, I ought to run along and see if Lady Griffin would like a hand of cards."

  “What an excellent idea,” Griffin said, and held the door wide, closing it after him. Then he looked at Alice. “You must not follow Lady Sara's example and set up as a flirt, Alice. You are too green to handle the consequences."

  “A flirt!” she exclaimed. “You mistake the matter, Griffin."

  “Slipping away from a party with a gentleman might be construed that way."

  “That did not bother you when I slipped away from Lady Calmet's ball with you."

  “That was different."

  “Yes, the difference being that Mr. Montgomery is always well behaved, whereas Lord Griffin carries a certain aroma of the jungle."

  “Don't try to distract me. It is not my behavior that is at question here, miss."

  “Nor have you any right to question mine, or Monty's for that matter. He would never do what you are suggesting."

  “Then what propelled the two of you out here, into the moonlight.” He glanced up at the gibbous moon.

  “The heat, Griffin. We are not so inured to tropical climes as you."

  “And that is all?"

  “What do you mean?” she demanded.

  “Such a romantic setting, it seems a likely spot for a proposal. Are you and Monty thinking of making a match?"

  Her blank expression
was answer enough. “Where on earth did you get such an idea?"

  “Well, you were standing up with him."

  “I have stood up with half a dozen gentlemen I am more likely to marry than Montgomery.” Griffin looked toward the garden. He was beginning to feel a little foolish. “You must be mad,” she said. “Monty is thirty-five if he is a day. He is practically old enough to be my father. Is that why you came out here, because you actually thought he was trying to set up a flirtation with me?"

  “Of course not,” he said brusquely. “I just wanted a breath of air myself, and razzed Monty from habit. Lovely night, is it not?"

  “It was,” she said stiffly, and opened the door. Griffin followed her back into the ballroom, trying to put a decent face on his latest piece of folly.

  The music began. “I am an idiot,” he said. “Dance with me, Sal, to show me you don't hate me."

  “I could not be bothered to hate you,” she said. Griffin swept her into his arms, wondering how he had come to get so upset over nothing. What difference did it make if Sal did marry Monty? The man was not a monster after all. A dull old stick, of course, but hardly like to beat his wife, or put her in the poor house.

  They danced half the waltz without speaking. To break the stretching silence, Griffin said, “Cat got your tongue, Sal? You are quiet, all of a sudden."

  Alice decided Griffin had only been doing his duty, if his mama had indeed been worried at her absence. “Just sulking,” she said, “but I am over it now. I must congratulate you on your improved manners, Griffin. I believe you have stood up with all the young ladies this evening. Lady Sara cannot be so bossy as I thought either, or she would not have permitted it."

  “I have heeded your reprimand that a gentleman cannot be led against his wishes. Not by bossy commands, at any rate. We are more easily led by guile."

  “Yet it was my bossy command that spurred your reformation,” she pointed out, with a pert grin.

  “Logic was never my strong suit,” he admitted. “I am a creature of intuition."

  “Sukey would like to see the voodoo doll, and the knives and things,” Alice said a moment later.

  “Has she snipped off a piece of my hair, to attach to it? I am referring to my outrageous treatment of her and her mama during this visit."

  “No, not yours. You have weaseled your way back into her approval by standing up with her, and by showing her the prince's letter."

  “She forgives easily. If not mine, then whose?"

  “That would be indiscreet of me to say, but if Lady S***, as they say in the journals, believes in this black magic, she had best burn those torn stockings, or they will be taken from her dustbin. Actually, Miss Warwick would like to see the things, too. Would it be possible to have a few friends out tomorrow afternoon?"

  “Invite anyone you like. I shall make myself available for a lecture, if it would please you."

  “Lady Sara does not have other plans?” she asked, surprised at his new acquiescence.

  “I don't know what Lady Sara's plans may be, but I shall be here, to entertain all my guests."

  He was soon busy entertaining some of those guests on the dance floor. Miss Warwick was surprised to be asked to stand up for the next waltz. She waltzed very badly, but Griffin was so nice about her stepping on his toes that she fell in love with him on the spot.

  As so few of the others waltzed, a country-dance was called. The rout was considered a great success. When the party broke up, Lady Sara suggested a cup of cocoa before retiring, for those who were houseguests.

  “We have earned it,” she said, with a weary sigh. “So fatiguing, entertaining the provincial neighbors, but it must be done occasionally. One never knows when their support will be needed for elections, and things."

  “Quite,” Griffin smiled blandly, but he was beginning to understand how Lady Sara's mind worked.

  “I thought it was a lovely party,” Mrs. Sutton said, and received support from her daughter and Alice.

  Sensing that she was being sent to Coventry, Lady Sara was the picture of agreeableness the next morning during the garden tour. She knew more about flowers than the rest of the guests put together, and could praise more effectively. She attended the lecture on the Brazilian trophies in the afternoon, although she had heard the same thing in London, and poured tea when the lecture was over.

  A few friends were invited to dinner that evening. After dinner, Lady Griffin said, “Perhaps Lady Sara will play for us, if we ask her very nicely."

  “Or even if we don't,” Mrs. Sutton murmured under her breath to Sukey.

  Griffin overheard it, and chewed a smile. Sara allowed herself to be cajoled into entertaining them with a piano recital, and the party removed to the music room. Alice arrived late, and sat in the back row, near the door. As the rousing strains of Rastlose Liebe rent the air, she found her head began to pound. Perhaps they would be spared Meerestille and Erikönig. But when the first bout of clapping died away, Lady Sara smiled and said, "Meerestille." There was to be no reprieve. As the white hands arched over the keyboard, Alice decided to slip away and return when the recital was over.

  She wandered first to the saloon, then off to the library. The latter was in darkness, but at the end of the corridor, she noticed a light coming from the conservatory, and decided to go there. Griffin's gardener must be tending the plants. She would have him show her the orchids, as he used to do when she was a child.

  She opened the door and slipped in. There, at his usual bench, sat Griffin with his head bent over a text. He looked up with a guilty start. “Sal, what are you doing here?"

  “I have a headache from—that is—what are you doing here? I thought you were in the music room. Do you not know Lady Sara is performing her Schubert pieces?"

  “Yes, I was standing at the back. Lovely music, but I just slipped out for a moment to check on some of my seedlings. They seem to be wilting. I think they are getting too much sun. They grow under the shelter of the forest in the Amazon. I have put them under the palms."

  “Oh, then you will want to return to the music room. Don't feel you must accompany me."

  “There is no hurry. Sara's selections last for half an hour.” He had thoroughly enjoyed the performance the other night, and could not account for the air of ennui that had seized him when she struck up the same pieces tonight. The air of novelty was lacking, perhaps. Or perhaps his chief delight had been in the performer. He was rapidly losing interest in Sara Winsley.

  “Then you will catch the last piece if you go now.” Still he seemed reluctant to leave. “Are you afraid I shall kill your plants with my brown thumb? Don't worry. I shan't disturb them."

  “I am not afraid of that. You never were an obstreperous child, like some visitors. No, I was just relaxing. I feel most at home here, surrounded by my plants. A nightingale has got into the conservatory. It was singing, just now, in the palm trees. Is that not enchanting?"

  “Oh, I should love to hear it."

  “Listen,” he said. They stood still, staring into the dense foliage. After a moment, the sweet sound of the nightingale floated on the air.

  A radiant smile beamed on Alice's face as she listened. “It almost seems like magic, as if the plants were singing. It won't harm the plants, will it?” she asked.

  “I shouldn't think so. Birds and plants go together, like love and marriage."

  “It is odd, is it not, how such an insignificant-looking bird has such a beautiful song. She sings like an angel."

  “He!"

  “You cannot possibly know that!"

  “Of course I can. That is the male's mating call. You must allow that I am familiar with that role. And like this poor nightingale, cut off from the females, I sing in vain.

  “You should let the bird go."

  “I would prefer to open the door, and let in a mate. It would be nice to have a pair of birds in the conservatory."

  “But the nightingale is not very pretty."

  “Birds are like bo
oks; you don't judge them by their covering. There are magnificent birds in Brazil. Macaws, parrots, ... All colors of the rainbow. And the butterflies, as big as birds and so colorful. I wanted to bring some birds home, but could not deprive them of their freedom."

  “You brought Snow White home."

  “A fellow sold her to me on board the ship. I only took her because he kept her locked in a miserable little cage in the hold. The poor thing was close to expiring."

  He indicated a seat by the desk, and sat down beside Alice. “I have come to a decision, Sal,” he said pensively.

  Her heart tightened to a ball in her chest. “Lady Sara?” she asked, with admirable calmness.

  “No, not Lady Sara. Not anyone. I have decided I shall not get married right away at all. It is foolish to pitch myself into a hasty marriage only because Myra jilted me. That would be mere pride. You said I should not let a lady bearlead me, and it is Myra leading me to think I must marry soon, to show the world my heart is not broken. Well, it is not broken, but it is cracked a little. A man cannot really fall in love until his heart is whole. I shall let my heart heal itself, then I shall find a bride."

  A sense of peace fell over Alice at his words. Not Lady Sara! “What about Greece?” she asked.

  “Next year, or the next year after that. That was mere running away, too. I have tons of categorizing and writing to do before I leave. I shall send the guests home at the appointed time, and get down to some serious work. You will be joining your family in London, I think?"

  'Yes, for Myra's wedding."

  “I want to give the couple something, but am uncertain what would be acceptable. I thought I might call the white orchid the Dunsmore Orchid, in honor of the couple, and in an effort to patch up old scars. What do you think?"

  “They will like that,” she said simply, but she knew Myra would like it better if it were called for her alone.