“Now, hold on, Henry,” Rushton advised, unaware that he had fallen so easily into calling the boy by his Christian name. “I want you to tell me exactly how all this came about. You say she wasn't angry with you. Did you try to excuse yourself?"
“No, I don't think so. But I did try to explain."
“Explain what?"
Henry flushed. “Why I was embarrassed. I didn't want you to think she was strange or anything."
Rushton's lips twisted awry. “And what did she say to that?"
“She said you always had ... thought she was strange,” Henry mumbled.
“Hmm, yes. And then what happened?"
“Oh I don't remember exactly. She scolded me and told me my scene had been just as uncomfortable as her play-acting, but said she wouldn't do that again in company. I wouldn't let her apologize for it! I told her you'd said you didn't mind."
“Now we are getting somewhere. What did you tell her about our talk?"
“Just that you had rung a peal over me. I didn't have a chance to say anything more. That was when she started to talk about my going to Lord Leyburn. You will speak to her, won't you? I know I am asking a lot, but yesterday you seemed to understand. If you would do this one thing for me, I ... I would not hold you to the boxing lessons. That is, I would be so greatly in your debt that I should not wish to impose on you further. Just please convince her not to banish me!"
“Is she likely to be up yet?” Rushton asked curiously.
“Ordinarily she would be, but after last night ... Still, we could go there, couldn't we, and see? I don't want her to have a chance to get it firmly implanted in her mind, you know. She can be very stubborn when she thinks she's doing the right thing. Did that sound as though I was criticizing her? I wasn't! Mostly she is right, anyhow. Would you come now? We could have breakfast after you talk to her."
“Or even before I talk to her,” Rushton murmured.
Henry flushed again. “Of course. Before you talk to her."
“Very well. Go down and have my curricle brought round. I'll just have a look at Victor before I come along."
Chapter 16
Selina was seated at the breakfast table when she heard the sounds of arrival in the courtyard. When she had heard that Henry was not in the house, and learned from the stables when she sent for word that he had gone out shortly after dawn, she had been somewhat alarmed. Counseling herself to patience, she had sat down to an array of delicacies which she did not find in the least tempting. Now that he was home, her appetite improved sufficiently for her to spread a glob of jam on her toast and pour another cup of tea. Her appetite deserted her once more when the breakfast parlor door opened, and she found not only Henry but Mr. Rushton standing there.
Even the most casual observer would not have declared her to be in looks. She was dressed in a dark blue morning dress that was unexceptionable, but her face was pale and drawn and her eyes, especially when they rested on Mr. Rushton, looked haunted. Her visitor appreciated her distress at a glance, and with one longing look at the sideboard heaped with a half dozen dishes, said curtly, “Have your breakfast, Henry. I am going to take your cousin for a drive."
Not disposed to argue this summary command, Selina promptly rose to her feet. Best that everything was settled now, rather than drag it out for any period of time. He had no right to order either of them, of course, but at this moment he wielded a power neither would dispute. “I'll get my wrap,” Selina said.
The royal blue pelisse she chose only served to make her face look more pale, but she was not aware of the fact. In silence they made their way to the stables, and waited while the curricle was once more prepared. Not until they were driving easily down the lane did Rushton speak. “Your cousin said you were talking of his going to his guardian. Did you think because I spoke with him yesterday that I would have him removed from your care?"
“Yes."
“Miss Easterly-Cummings, how could you possibly leap to such a conclusion?"
Surprised, Selina regarded him with enormous eyes. “Why else would you speak with him, except that you thought I could no longer handle him myself? And I suppose I can't,” she said, her voice strangled. “There is no reason you should believe me capable. Not only did I put on a ludicrous show, but I had hysterics as well yesterday. The only thing you didn't see was my fit of temper when I could not mount Starlight with Scamp in my arms."
“How many times do I have to tell you that I don't wish to harm you?” he asked exasperatedly.
“It's not a matter of harming me, I know. You like Henry, and you want to see that he fulfills his promise as a man. I understand, Mr. Rushton; don't think I blame you."
“You don't understand anything, my dear Miss Easterly-Cummings. First, I spoke to Henry because I wished to save you the trouble after your exhausting bout of tears. Second, I don't know Lord Leyburn from a hole in the ground, have no intention of communicating with him, and don't believe he would benefit Henry in any case. Third, I do like Henry, but I would not presume to be the arbiter of his fate. All I ever intended was to offer you some advice. That was unwise of me, I now realize, and even then I realized it was presumptuous. Perhaps I was driven to it by my irritation with you, or by my concern for the boy. In either case, I should not have involved myself in any way. I ask your pardon."
Selina was regarding him with incredulity. “Henry can stay with me?"
“I have absolutely nothing to say in the matter. How can I possibly make myself more clear? I have no more influence in the matter than Penrith, McDonough or Mr. Evans, for God's sake! And if I did, I would certainly have the boy stay with you. Oh, Lord, you're not going to cry again, are you?"
Rushton drew in his pair and watched fascinated as her mouth quivered uncontrollably. It was too much for him, and, as much to his own surprise as hers, he caught her in his arms and stilled her lips with his own. His kiss was not comforting, or brotherly, nor was it excessively demanding, but he kissed her thoroughly, because she let him. He did not delude himself that at any other time she would have been so accommodating. Her release from the burden of anxiety she had suffered since the previous day found an outlet in his kiss. It was a moment separate in time, not to be construed in relation to the past or the future.
When he released her she said, “Thank you,” in a very soft voice and he replied, with no trace of amusement, “It was my pleasure.” He could see no sign of embarrassment in her as he gathered the reins and urged the patient pair forward. After a while she asked, “How did you injure your cheek?"
“An accident at the inn."
“You weren't boxing with Henry by chance?"
“No."
“I just wondered."
“Would you like to take a walk in the vale?"
“Another day, perhaps. I should go home and speak with Henry. Did he come to you because he was upset?"
“He asked me to convince you not to send him away. When he explained what had happened last night, I thought I understood."
“Yes, I see. He has a great deal of confidence in you.”
Rushton laughed. “He offered to exchange my intervention for the boxing lessons. Staying with you was much more important than learning to box, you know. You must tell him that I will still come to teach him."
“You are generous, Mr. Rushton. The stable staff said that he left shortly after dawn. I hope he did not awaken you."
“Only incidentally,” Rushton replied, his eyes on the road ahead.
Selina looked at him questioningly but he did not satisfy her curiosity. “How is Lord John coming with the plans? I hope we didn't keep him from them too long with our problems here. The flooding, I mean."
“I had a note from him saying they were progressing very well. He has taken on two apprentices to do the working drawings."
“Do you know when you'll be ready to build?"
“Sometime in April, I imagine."
They continued to discuss indifferent topics until they reached Shalbroo
k, when Selina turned to him and said, “You probably have not had breakfast. Will you come in?"
“Thank you, no. I shall have my meal at the inn."
Selina smiled hesitantly. “Yesterday I made you miss tea, today breakfast. Would you dine with Henry and me tomorrow?"
“With pleasure.” He jumped down from the curricle and handed her out.
“We dine at six."
He nodded and raised her hands, one after the other, to his lips. “Until tomorrow."
The color restored to her cheeks, Selina hurried up the stairs and waved happily to Henry where he stood anxiously watching for her at the breakfast room window. Just as she reached the massive oak door, she glanced back at the drive where Mr. Rushton still stood at his horses’ heads, his eyes following her progress. Behind her she heard the door drawn open, but before hastening through it, she made him a curtsey.
Henry raced into the hall and caught Selina's hands. “I can stay?"
“Yes, my dear. It was a misunderstanding. Though I may not be the best person to guide you, I have no intention of letting you go. We'll muddle through together."
“I will do better, Selina, I promise. You'll see. I shall be a model gentleman, and not keep distressing you the way I have been. Rushton said it was difficult for him, too, at my age. Don't you see what that means? There is nothing wrong with him now."
Her eyes sparkling, Selina patted his cheek. “No, there is nothing wrong with him now—except his occasionally autocratic behavior. I have invited him to dine with us tomorrow, and he says he intends to continue your boxing lessons."
“Really? Not for several days, I imagine, though. I dare say he is a bit bruised from his ... accident."
“What did happen this morning?” she asked, her curiosity once again piqued.
“It was the most awful thing, Selina.” Henry groaned before he relayed, in horrifying detail, the events at the inn. To his astonishment his cousin succumbed to gales of laughter, protesting that she was very sorry for all their injuries, but that it was the most amusing story she'd heard in years. Miffed at first, Henry eventually saw the more ridiculous side of the escapade, and joined in her laughter. “But don't go telling Rushton that we laughed about it. He's very dignified, you know."
“He would understand,” Selina said with conviction, not sure whence the certainty sprang. “I must see to a menu for tomorrow, and I dare say you have studying to do."
Eager to prove his reformation, Henry immediately agreed and went off to the study. Selina remained standing in the hall for some time, now grinning at his story, and again lost in more serious thoughts. When McDonough asked if he might be of assistance she pulled herself out of her reverie. “No, thank you. I shall be in the library."
JOURNAL. March 23. I am beginning to think Cathford's notion not so preposterous after all. Have I lost my wits? This is not at all what I envisioned, and I am not sure that it is what I want. Irrelevant anyway, in all likelihood.
From the wardrobe in a spare bedroom, Selina, with Alice's assistance, dragged forth all the evening dresses she had once worn but long since consigned to obscurity. She had begun to make forays into walking, carriage, riding and morning dresses she had worn when she was younger, though they were sadly out of fashion. Her perusal of the Ladies’ Magazine had assisted her to update some of these creations, and others she had already worked on for her trips to Tunbridge Wells and Margate. In her own neighborhood, it was all very well to be an eccentric, but she had never carried the matter to extremes. When she traveled with Henry, she was always becomingly, if not entirely fashionably, dressed. There had been little call for the evening dresses, however, and she surveyed them with dismay. Not one of them had any distinctive color to it—pale primroses, pinks, and several almost entirely white.
Choosing the most presentable, she allowed Alice to assist her into it, and found to her chagrin that it did not even fit well any longer. She had filled out from her earlier boyish figure, and the gown pulled across her bosom and draped awkwardly over her hips. “It's these thin, revealing fabrics. It won't do at all,” she complained.
“No, miss,” Alice agreed with a shake of her head. “Shall we try another?"
None of them fit appreciably better. Selina turned dolefully to her maid. “Could you make any use of them, Alice? I daren't ever wear even the jaconet muslin. Oh, Lord, what am I to do? I've invited Mr. Rushton to dine tomorrow, and I cannot very well appear in a morning dress. It would be insulting."
If Alice had any comments to make on her mistress’ lack of foresight in dressing so abominably for the last few years, she kept them to herself. “Mrs. Armstrong in Leicester might have a model which could be suitably altered in a day. Clara could help me, as she's frightfully clever with her needle."
“Leicester? That will take hours!"
“Yes, miss, but I can see no other solution. You might purchase fabric in Quorn, of course, though I can't see it would be much help. Even Clara couldn't turn out an evening dress in that short a time."
“No, no, of course she couldn't. What was I thinking of to invite him for tomorrow? To invite him at all,” she murmured despairingly. “Very well, Alice. If you will order the carriage around, we'll go to Leicester. And I had so many things planned to do today."
Selina stopped at the study on her way out. “I have to go to Leicester, Henry. Is there anything I can get for you? Or did you wish to come along?"
“Why are you going?” he asked bluntly.
“I had out all my evening dresses and not one of them will do for dinner. It's the most exasperating thing! If I had known I would have to go to all this trouble, I'd never have invited Mr. Rushton in the first place,” Selina said crossly.
“You're never going to buy a made-up dress!"
“I have no choice, Henry. It is either that, or crying off the dinner."
“Then I shall come with you. If there is nothing suitable, we'll have to postpone it."
“So you have become a judge of ladies’ fashions, have you, young man?” Selina laughed. “I don't mind if you come, but do hurry. I've already ordered the carriage."
Mrs. Armstrong's shop in Leicester would not have disgraced itself on Bond Street in London. Her country clientele had the greatest faith in her claim that her fashions were the very latest, that she smuggled in designs from Paris, and that no one in the county was better equipped to outfit the Quality. Located on Peacock Lane not far from South Gate Street, the storefront was a study in Georgian elegance with no more indication of its function than the sign which read:
J. Armstrong, Modiste and Milliner.
Selina had had no cause to visit Mrs. Armstrong for many years and felt disgruntled as the bell tinkled when she entered with her cousin and maid. The giddy excitement she had felt when she visited the establishment to order her first ball gown was long gone but she felt the stirrings of interest as her gaze fell on two evening dresses displayed near the three-sided mirror. One in pale blue silk, the other in russet gauze, they caught the early afternoon light streaming through the small-paned windows. Mrs. Armstrong came hastening from the nether regions, and her eyes widened perceptibly on sight of Selina.
“Miss Easterly-Cummings! What a delight to see you again. And in the best of health, if these eyes don't deceive me. How can I help you today?” she chirped in a merry voice, her face wreathed with smiles.
“I find myself in urgent need of an evening dress. Nothing elaborate! A demi-toilette, if you will. And something that I could take with me today. It can be altered at Shalbrook if necessary, but I must have it for tomorrow evening.” Selina turned her gaze to the russet gauze, and cocked her head consideringly. “No, I think that color would not suit me."
“You like the gauze, though? I have something similar in an emerald green, but the lines are even more simple. Yes, that might be just the thing. Or the rose silk.” Mrs. Armstrong bobbed her head and left them, to return a few moments later with three dresses over her arm. The silver crape ove
r a gray sarsnet slip she displayed first.
Henry shook his head firmly. “Definitely not, Selina. You'd look like someone's mother."
Regretfully, Selina agreed. The other two dresses, held up to her, both took Henry's fancy and she agreed to try them on. The rose silk clung to her in an alarming fashion, and she would not have consented to exhibit it to Henry but for Mrs. Armstrong's insistence. Moderately high in the waist, it was astonishingly low over the bosom, and Selina entered the outer room protesting, “I would have to tuck a scarf in the neckline. It's not decent."
“Everyone is wearing their gowns just so, Miss Easterly-Cummings,” Mrs. Armstrong protested. She turned to Henry for support. “It is elegant, is it not? Your cousin looks a very picture. The height of fashion. No, no, you must not slink down in it, my dear. That is just as it should be.” She adjusted the neckline and tiny gathered sleeves with their fall of blond. “Just so, I promise you. What do you say, sir?"
“She'll take it,” Henry declared with an impish grin.
“I suppose I could put a brooch right here,” Selina mused as she turned to study herself in the mirror.
Although Mrs. Armstrong's face registered horror at the very suggestion, Henry only laughed.
“Try on the other one,” he suggested.
“Yes, it might be more modest,” Selina agreed. It was not. If anything, it was even more décolleté than the first. Mrs. Armstrong had even more difficulty urging her out into the front room where Henry waited.
“Admirable,” he intoned in what he considered an imitation of Rushton's manner.
Selina flushed. “Don't be ridiculous. It is worse than the last."
“She'll take it,” he repeated with a laugh.
“I won't! Henry, have your wits gone begging? What would our guest think of me?"
“He would think you dressed in the height of fashion, and strikingly beautiful. I had no idea, Selina, that you could look so well. Truly I didn't. Buy a shawl if it will make you feel any better, but you must certainly take both dresses. If you don't, I shall buy them for you, and it would make a considerable dent in my allowance."
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