by Gayle Buck
Mrs. Crocker, who had started to say something else, all of a sudden closed her mouth. She stared at her younger sister for a long, thoughtful moment. There was a tinge of respect in her voice as she said, “You are perfectly right, Abby. Lord Fielding is not your betrothed. It has been several weeks since he asked permission to press his suit with you, but he has not yet made you an offer. I quite see how you must feel.” She reached out and pressed her sister’s fingers. “I shall not scold you anymore, Abby, for I now perceive that you are going about the business with a shrewdness I had not thought to see in you! It will not do Lord Fielding the least harm to be brought to understand he is not your only admirer.”
“Melissa, you have quite mistaken the matter,” said Abby hastily. “Lord Darlington is a pleasant acquaintance, one whom—
“Enough said, my dear sister. By all means, do encourage Lord Darlington and any others who swim into your sphere. It will not do the least harm and will even perhaps touch spur to Lord Fielding,” said Mrs. Crocker approvingly.
Abby wasn’t able to say anything more to her sister, for at that instant Lady Bethany came up. Very prettily, she greeted Mrs. Crocker and begged her indulgence in taking Abby away to the refreshment room.
With a sinking heart, Abby remarked mildly that she had already had an ice. Lady Bethany did not heed her. She drew Abby away from the crowd seated around the edge of the dance floor. Glancing around to see that they were not observed, she slipped a paper screw into Abby’s palm and pressed her fingers shut over it. “There! You have it now. Pray do not fail me, Abby!”
Abby began to protest. Now that the moment had come, she wasn’t at all certain she could go through with it, especially in light of Lady Bethany’s conspiratorial manner. “Really, I don’t think—”
“There he is! Do you see him, Abby? Mr. Richard Farnham,” said Lady Bethany dreamily.
Diverted, Abby looked where Lady Bethany had quickly pointed. She saw a slim young gentleman, rather rakish-looking, standing with his shoulder pressed against a pillar. His handsome face showed an expression of dissatisfaction and boredom. She glanced swiftly at Lady Bethany. “Are you certain, Lady Bethany? I mean, he doesn’t seem at all—”
“Of course he doesn’t appear happy! How could he be when I have been denied permission to address him?” said Lady Bethany.
Abby did not correct her friend’s erroneous assumption. For now at least, she kept to herself her initial impression that the object of Lady Bethany’s devotion did not appear to her to be at all the thing. There was something about Mr. Farnham, perhaps the negligent way he was standing or his expression, which was off-putting to Abby. Privately she thought that Lord Darlington probably had very good reason to keep his impressionable, beautiful sister away from Mr. Farnham. Perhaps she was doing Lord Darlington a favor in carrying Lady Bethany’s good-bye note to her objectionable admirer. That thought considerably cheered her and overrode her natural trepidation.
“Very well! However, I simply cannot go smack up to the gentleman. We have not been introduced.”
“Have you not?” Lady Bethany was momentarily nonplussed, but she swiftly came about. “There is Cedric Barthlew. He will do anything for me. Cedric! Oh, Cedric!”
The young gentleman thus hailed came quickly over. He bowed punctiliously over Abby’s fingers, but he clung to Lady Bethany’s hand and gazed at her adoringly while he made his greetings.
“Never mind that, Cedric. I have a particular wish for you to promenade with Abby and myself around the dance floor, for I wish to show off my new gown,” said Lady Bethany, dimpling up at him.
“Nothing could give me greater pleasure on this earth,” said Mr. Barthlew, promptly offering an arm to each of the ladies.
Slowly they made their way around the periphery of the ballroom, Lady Bethany and Mr. Barthlew talking casually of this and that, while Abby listened. As the trio approached Mr. Farnham, Lady Bethany exclaimed, “Oh! Mr. Farnham! Cedric, I believe you know Mr. Farnham?”
Mr. Barthlew acknowledged that he did and reluctantly stopped in his course. In the ensuing few moments, introductions were made. Lady Bethany, giving Abby a meaningful glance, chose to direct Mr. Barthlew’s attention to something on the dance floor.
Rightly realizing that this was her moment, Abby turned to Mr. Farnham. With a wavering smile, she said in a low voice, “Sir, we haven’t met before. Lady Bethany has commissioned me to give this to you.” She fumbled with the paper screw, but she got it into his hand. She saw the gentleman’s long white fingers close over the note. A singularly brilliant smile lit up Mr. Farnham’s face, completely dispelling his former expression, and Abby could suddenly quite see how Lady Bethany had succumbed to the gentleman.
“Thank you, Miss Fairchilde,” he said quietly.
Lady Bethany and Mr. Barthlew turned back. Lady Bethany glanced swiftly at Mr. Farnham’s face. Apparently satisfied that Abby’s mission had been accomplished, she announced herself to be famished. “Won’t you be a dear, Cedric, and take Abby and me at once to the refreshments? I am positive there must be a chocolate truffle or two tucked away on the table!”
Mr. Barthlew was nothing loath, and he made a polite excuse to Mr. Farnham. That gentleman bowed, and with the slightest of smiles acknowledged Abby’s backward glance. Abby hastily turned her head, glad that the deed was done and she could be comfortable again.
Chapter Nine
Lady Darlington had taken thoughtful notice of her son’s interest in the quiet Miss Fairchilde. Though her son had in the past paid court to various ladies, she had always been disappointed that his interest had waned or proven to be simply a following of fashion.
However, the marquess’s interest in Miss Fairchilde did not appear to be waning but, on the contrary, to be unusually strong and of long standing. Lady Darlington had not missed Miss Fairchilde’s admission that she had met Lord Darlington the previous Season. Lady Darlington wondered why her son had not mentioned Miss Fairchilde then, but she came to the conclusion that the attraction had been of too recent a nature for him to have done so. Now she felt that was no longer the case. Lord Darlington was an established admirer of Miss Fairchilde’s, and it was not uncommon of him to make some reference to the lady. Also, it seemed her daughter had formed a friendship with the lady, and Lady Bethany frequently brought up Miss Fairchilde’s name to her and her brother.
Lady Darlington’s reflections came to fruition early one evening when Lady Bethany expressed regret that she would not see Miss Fairchilde at the opera later that night, since she was engaged elsewhere.
Lord Darlington remarked with a rare smile, “I do not blame Miss Fairchilde for declining such a treat. For my part, I would rather attend any other function than endure an hour at the opera.”
“Oh, Sylvan! You know it is to be a splendid evening,” said Lady Bethany, quizzing him with a teasing glimmer in her eyes. When her brother grimaced, she laughed. “Well, I shall leave you, stodgy brother of mine. I must make certain my gown is laid out.”
When Lady Bethany had left the room, Lady Darlington looked up from her embroidering and remarked, “It seems to me that you bear a special fondness for Miss Fairchilde, Sylvan.”
He looked across at her from over the top of his newspaper. “Indeed I do. She is a very good influence on Bethany.”
Lady Darlington smiled, amused. “Is that the only reason you have a liking for her, Sylvan?”
As he met his mother’s gaze, Lord Darlington lowered the newspaper. “I suppose I must admit that I do like her very well for herself.” He added with a smile, “As no doubt you are already aware.”
Lady Darlington carefully set a couple more stitches. “It has not escaped my notice,” she admitted. “Your attentions toward Miss Fairchilde have been rather marked lately. Are you thinking of marrying, Sylvan?”
He was startled by her frank query. His expression became thoughtful as he turned the question over in his mind. It was a tantalizing, pleasurable reflection, and he sud
denly realized that he had been thinking on the same lines for some time.
Lord Darlington met his mother’s gaze. “You have hit on the truth, ma’am. I am indeed beginning to think the wedded state is for me. I never before thought so, but since coming to know Miss Fairchilde, it is ever more on my mind.”
“It is my observation that the Crockers favor Lord Fielding more than any other,” said Lady Darlington calmly.
Lord Darlington shot a narrowed glance at his mother’s tranquil face. He was unwarrantably irritated by her remark. “Indeed? And how do you weigh my chances, my lady?”
Lady Darlington laughed. “No, do not eat me! I never said you could not win the lady’s hand, Sylvan. However, you must admit that it is easier for Lord Fielding to ply his suit than for you! I do not know why you do not stand as favorably as his lordship, for you are of greater consequence.”
“I believe it has something to do with my worth, Mama,” drawled Lord Darlington. This, too, he had thought about. If at first he had been amused by the Crockers’ stiff reception to him, he was no longer. “Or at least, the perceived lack of worth. Lord Fielding has the advantage of me in not having a familial reputation for gaming or a past history of mortgaged estates.”
“But you do not gamble! At least, you do not in the same way your father did. I cannot bear to recall the horridness of that time,” said Lady Darlington with an eloquent shudder. “And it must be known well enough by now that the estates are no longer encumbered. So how can either of those things stand in your way with the Crockers?”
Lord Darlington shrugged. His brows pulled together in a frown as he slowly voiced some of his own conclusions. “I suspect they have a faintly bourgeois attitude toward such things. Mr. and Mrs. Crocker are the staidest of creatures. An admirable quality, and Miss Fairchilde’s lack of flighty mannerisms can be laid directly to their door, I do not doubt. Nevertheless, it is a detriment to me.” A faintly derisive smile came to his face. “Lord Fielding is such a fine, upstanding gentleman, with no hint of past scandal attached to his name.”
“I find his lordship a dull creature,” said Lady Darlington roundly.
The marquess laughed. “As do I! But I do not think Miss Fairchilde feels the same, Mama. Nor do her worthy relatives.” He rested his elbow on the chair arm, propped his chin in his hand, and stared contemplatively into the fire. “They mean to see that he has her, you know.”
“Well, what do you intend to do about it?” asked Lady Darlington. She cast a glance toward her son, her fingers never faltering with the needle. “That is, if you really want the girl.”
Lord Darlington straightened, dropping his arm. He turned his head. There was a peculiar light in his eyes. Very quietly he said, “I am falling in love with her, Mama.”
Lady Darlington was visibly astonished by his bald confession, but she quickly schooled her features. “I see. Then, I suppose you must have some course of action in mind to cut out Lord Fielding.”
“What can I do more than I am now?” Lord Darlington moved his shoulders restlessly. “She likes my company well enough, I know. She has once chosen to wear my posy pinned to her dress. She is not unfriendly to me, but neither is she strikingly encouraging. I am uncertain what to think.”
“If you truly love her, you will stop thinking so much and simply do,” said Lady Darlington quietly.
Lord Darlington regarded his mother unsmilingly for a moment. “Is that all your advice for me, ma’am?”
“It is indeed,” said Lady Darlington firmly. “I have yet to learn of any female whose thoughts do not begin to turn more and more upon the gentleman who shows himself eager to share his time with her. She is flattered and feels he cares for her. You must woo her, Sylvan!”
“What if Miss Fairchilde indicates a disinterest in me?” asked Lord Darlington. His twisted smile flashed. “It is almost certain her sister and brother-in-law will try to discourage the connection.”
“Why should they?” asked Lady Darlington coolly. “I do not believe we are of so little consequence that, as acquaintances, we do not offer some social advantage to Miss Fairchilde. Nor do I believe the Crockers will be so foolish to whistle a marquess down the road carte blanche. It would be a very good match for a mere Miss Fairchilde!”
Lord Darlington laughed, his expression lightening. “I did not know before how proud you were, Mama!”
“Well, I shall admit that family pride was one reason I wished to sever the connection between Lady Bethany and that Mr. Farnham. His family is not at all the thing,” said Lady Darlington frankly.
“So you told me before. I am pleased at how well Lady Bethany has settled down. She has abandoned her sullen attitude since the Season began,” said Lord Darlington. He was willing enough to quit the subject of his feelings for Miss Fairchilde and the quandary in which he found himself. He had always been reticent about revealing a certain part of himself, even to his mother.
“Quite. It was an extremely wise move on our part to bring her up to London. I am quite persuaded that she is almost in the way of forgetting Mr. Farnham,” said Lady Darlington.
“It is just as well that she has. No doubt you have seen just as I have the swathe the gentleman cuts here in London,” said Lord Darlington with a certain grimness in his tone.
Lady Darlington nodded. “Indeed! I was quite appalled the first time I laid eyes on him and heard that he was established in town for the Season. You may imagine my thoughts!”
“Very well, ma’am,” said Lord Darlington, nodding. “I, too, watched Bethany for her reaction.”
“I must say how glad I am that she has not made the least push to renew that acquaintance,” said Lady Darlington with the flicker of a smile. “I’ve also been relieved that Mr. Farnham has not persisted in his attentions toward her.”
“No, indeed,” agreed Lord Darlington. His voice hardened. “At present he plies his gallantries with Miss Fairchilde!”
“Sylvan, you mustn’t allow that to dismay you so. It is very natural of Mr. Farnham to stand up a few times with Miss Fairchilde, just as he has done with any number of other young ladies,” said Lady Darlington in a practical voice.
Lord Darlington gave a short laugh. “As long as he is kept at arm’s length by Bethany, you are pleased to suffer the gentleman?”
“That isn’t precisely what I meant,” said Lady Darlington, very much on her dignity.
At once Lord Darlington stretched out his hand toward his mother. “Forgive me, Mama! I had no right to cut up at you, of all people! I do not know how you bear with me at times.”
“Why, I do very well,” said Lady Darlington, her expression softening again as she looked up at him. “You have borne more than anyone, my poor dear. Is it to be wondered at if you are not made of stone? However, you do wrong me if you think that I do not care whether Miss Fairchilde is caught up in that man’s toils. I like Miss Fairchilde too much to wish her to succumb to Mr. Farnham’s blandishments. But I do not think she will. She is not like Bethany.”
“You mean, she is not featherheaded and obstinate as a mule,” said Lord Darlington roundly.
“Well, I wouldn’t have put it that way precisely,” said Lady Darlington with a chuckle. “I do love my daughter, but I am rather glad that you are able to watch over her interests, Sylvan.”
“Be sure that I do so, ma’am,” said Lord Darlington. He picked up his fob and twirled it in a reflective manner. “I suspect that if not for my watchfulness, Bethany would encourage Mr. Farnham to seek a more familiar footing.”
Lady Darlington looked up quickly, her needle suspended. Her expression reflected her dismay. “Oh, no, Sylvan! I had quite thought that episode to be entirely over. You arouse anxiety in me all over again.”
“Never fear, Mama. It is over.” Lord Darlington dropped the fob and gave a thin-lipped smile. “Before we came up to London, I discussed the matter with Bethany. She and I came to an understanding. She will not dare to flout my wishes.”
“I trust you
were not too severe?” asked Lady Darlington anxiously.
“Not at all,” said Lord Darlington smoothly. He did not think it worth mentioning that he had threatened the gentleman’s well-being. That had been meant only to frighten his sister a little so that she would be more tractable. “Bethany was simply made to realize that I would not tolerate Mr. Farnham’s attentions toward her. She agreed, however reluctantly at first, to accede to my wishes. She has not attempted to further her former acquaintance with the gentleman, at least to my knowledge.”
“No, nor to mine,” said Lady Darlington, some of her anxiety allied. “Bethany has not mentioned the gentleman’s name since we left home. Do you really think it possible that she would still encourage him if given the opportunity? Pray recall, my friend Mrs. Montague found them in a clandestine rendezvous.”
“Oh, I give Bethany too much credit to think she would rebel in such a stupid fashion here in London. My basic concern is that Mr. Farnham might decide to press his suit with her,” said Lord Darlington.
“Then, you believe he actually followed Bethany to town?” asked Lady Darlington quickly.
“I suspect it,” corrected Lord Darlington. “However, that is neither here nor there. I care not that Mr. Farnham has come up to town. After all, it is his prerogative to travel where he wills. It only becomes my concern if he approaches my sister, and he has not done so thus far.”
“I hope he continues to exercise restraint,” said Lady Darlington. The dowager reflected for a moment and her somber expression lightened. “I suppose being in London must offer other temptations besides dangling after Bethany, or even Miss Fairchilde, to a young gentleman such as Mr. Farnham.”
“So I anticipate, ma’am,” said Lord Darlington. He said with the glimmer of a smile, “I only hope that Bethany does not fall in love with someone else who is equally unsuitable.”
“Oh, if she does, then we shall find some way to prevent another misalliance,” said Lady Darlington.