Honour's Choice

by Joan Vincent

  “We had better go. Anne Marie,” she kissed her daughter’s cheek, “do as Meg says.”

  “Yes, Mama,” Anne Marie feigned meekness. “Do watch the play with care, Leora. You did promise to describe it.”

  “I shall,” Leora said and gave her a quick hug.

  They were halfway down the stairs when André halted. “Tante, I forgot to tell you that we encountered Lady Edgerton and her stepdaughter Miss Amabelle in the Park this afternoon. Now that young lady is a beauty.”

  “Is that why Hadleigh has been so blue-devilled?” quipped Leora.

  Lady Juliane tossed her a reproving frown. “Hadleigh, why did you not tell me? You must provide me their address.”

  What torture could he inflict on André for this bit of work? “I do not have it.”

  “But I do,” de la Croix offered.

  “I do not think Lady Edgerton is eager for callers.”

  Lady Juliane tapped his arm with her fan. “Do not be foolish, Hadleigh. I can see that they receive invitations.”

  Hadleigh tried to catch André’s eye but de la Croix was suddenly unusually attentive to his sister.

  From the shadows outside No. 41 Grosvenor two men watched the ladies being handed into the Tretain carriage. One of the men was tall and clad in evening dress. The collar of his black cape draped the lower part of his face and concealed his beard and mustachios. The second was shorter, of stocky build and dressed in a cheap suit of worn moreno with badly scuffed shoes.

  “The dainty woman is Mademoiselle Ribeymon,” the shorter man said. She is seven and ten and was raised by the Tretains as was her brother, the last to enter. Hadleigh Tarrant, the son of the earl’s only brother, long deceased, had the cane. The underbutler intimated they were raised as sons and are brothers except in blood.”

  “Where are they bound?” asked Donatien as he held the cape of his evening dress close.

  “Covent Garden.”

  “Did you learn anything of the Edgertons?”

  “They hail from Lewes, Sussex. Lady Edgerton is the relict of Sir Rufus Edgerton and is known to treat the sick with herbal remedies. Her father was a well-liked surgeon. There is a brother, Michael Leonard. Sir Rufus secured him a position in the Foreign Office.”

  “Well done.” Donatien held out a bag that clinked. “You shall forget we had this conversation, n’est-ce pas?”

  “Mais oui, M. Chercheur, he said and palmed the bag.

  * * *

  October 8th Monday

  Darton wheezed up the stairs to the family salon and knocked before he entered. “You have a caller, my lady. A gentleman.” He offered a salver, a card upon it.

  Amabelle rose. “Who is it, Stepmama?

  Looking at the card as if it were a snake about to bite, Sarah drew in a slow breath. “How strange. Mr. von Willmar.”

  The young lady’s smile faded. “How can he know our address?” she asked. “I gave it only to the baron.”

  Sarah gave a mental groan. “Darton, the gentleman?”

  “In the White Salon, my lady. Are you not at home?”

  “No,” Amabelle pleaded. “We have had no callers and he is, after a fashion, a handsome gentleman.”

  Elminda put aside her embroidery. “This is the Prussian? Let us receive him, Sarah.

  “Amabelle, do remember all of my strictures,” she commanded primly. Squaring her tall buxom figure she led them to the White Salon.

  A very straight-backed gentleman gazed out the balcony’s glass doors as they entered.

  He turned and bowed, clicking his heels. “Please forgive this intrusion, Lady Edgerton. The Earl of Lade warned me that it was impolite to call without a proper introduction.”

  “Of course not, Mr. Von Willmar,” Sarah said. Despite a strong urge to step back, she met his gaze.

  “The Earl of Lade?” calculated Elminda. “Mmmm. Did not the baron introduce you to my sister-in-law and niece?”

  Sarah sat and motioned Amabelle to join her.

  “It is as Miss Edgerton says.” He bowed to her and then to Elminda. “Lady Edgerton, may I beg you to grant me an introduction to this lovely lady?”

  “This is my sister-in-law, Miss Elminda Edgerton. Elminda, Mr. von Willmar,” Sarah complied and was surprised her spinster sister-in-law blushed as the gentleman kissed her hand.

  “Berthold von Willmar.” He offered his arm and escorted Elminda to a pair of chairs opposite the settee. After she sat, he approached Amabelle.

  “This,” he said, presenting a parcel, “is for you, Miss Edgerton. I could not help but notice your dismay after the unfortunate accident in the park.”

  Amabelle looked at Sarah and then Elminda. “But I cannot accept a gift—”

  “Do open it child,” Elminda interrupted. “Mr. von Willmar has been very thoughtful.”

  Taken aback by her aunt’s approval, Amabelle murmured, “Thank you, sir.”

  Donatien gave Elminda a grateful smile as he sat in the chair next to hers.

  Amabelle untied the pink ribbon around the slim white package and unrolled it. Two beautiful long white feathers, their tips arched, lay in the tissue. “Why, thank you, sir,” Amabelle sighed. “They are very grand.”

  “Your smile is my reward.”

  “It was kind of you Mr. von Willmar,” Elminda told him.

  “I am delighted you deem the gift proper. I am new to England, Miss Edgerton,” he explained. “I was disconcerted when I learned that the fifth Earl of Lade whom my father travelled with before the wars had died. His son has been all that one could want. You English are very generous.”

  “We do try,” Elminda simpered.

  Someone ran up the stairs outside the salon and then threw open its doors. A haggard young man who appeared to have neglected to change his garments from the night past, burst into the room. He hurried to Lady Edgerton.

  “Sarah,” Michael Leonard exclaimed. He pulled her to her feet and embraced her. “Dear Sarah.” He stepped back. “You are a naughty puss not to warn me that you came to town. But I am glad you did. I am in great need—”

  “Michael,” Sarah warned and motioned to Mr. von Willmar who watched the scene with a piercing gaze. “My brother, Michael Leonard.

  “Michael, Mr. Berthold von Willmar.”

  “Happy to make your acquaintance,” Michael slurred. He took the proffered hand. The large diamond stickpin in the gentleman’s precise cravat caught his eye. “Didn’t know you knew anyone in town, Sarah.”

  “We met Mr. von Willmar in Hyde Park,” Amabelle said. “He assisted us when a boy startled the baron’s horse and broke a feather on my hat.”

  “The baron?” Michael turned to Amabelle. “You have been busy since you arrived. Do I know the gentleman?”

  “You would have had no occasion to meet him,” Sarah answered. “We met the baron at an assembly in Lewes.”

  Donatien noted Miss Edgerton’s surprise. “Do you also visit London Mr. Leonard?”

  “Why no, I wor—live here,” Michael said. “I apologize for my dress. I hurried here when I learned Sarah’s address.”

  “Understandable,” Donatien soothed. “I wish I could see my sister. I was not able to learn of her fate before I was forced to flee the French.”

  “The devil! You fought the French?” Michael asked.

  “His majesty, William Frederick, was ill-treated by Napoleon. He was forced to sign that infamous agreement at Tilsit which stripped my country of her lands.”

  “By all that is famous. Did you see Bonaparte?”

  “He is but a man,” Donatien dismissed the topic. “Lady Edgerton. Miss Edgerton. Miss Amabelle. May I call again?”

  “Of course,” Elminda said, then realized her solecism. She looked to her sister-in-law, “If Lady Edgerton approves.”

  While Sarah nodded, Michael extended his hand. “Pleasure to meet you, sir. We look forward to seeing you again.”

  “And you.” Donatien bowed and left.

  “What a perfect gentlema
n,” Elminda cooed. “It has been many a day since I encountered such exquisite manners.”

  “Nor one with such a large diamond,” Michael noted. Recalling why he had come, he said, “Sarah, we must have a private conversation.”

  Elminda rose and motioned Amabelle to follow.

  “Good day.” The young woman paused at the door. She thought that what Michael wanted had nothing to do with brotherly affection. “Stepmama, I shall stay if you wish.”

  Sarah shook her head and thanked Amabelle with a faint smile.

  Chapter Fifteen

  London October 8, 1809 Sunday

  Michael Leonard sprawled in a chair as the doors closed behind Amabelle and her aunt. “My troubles would be over if you would force the chit to marry me,” he chided.

  “I gave my word to Sir Rufus.”

  His face contorted. “‘You gave your word,’” Michael parroted. “But only after Rufus had settled a fortune on you.

  “Who’s that dammed foreigner flitting after Amabelle?”

  “From his behaviour it is Elminda he favours,” Sarah said calmly.

  Her brother snorted and sat up. “Sarah, you must help me. I am in danger of becoming a gentleman of the three inns—in debt, in gaol, in disgrace for life.”

  She gazed at her entwined fingers and thought that they had had this conversation too many times. “It pains me to refuse you, Michael,” she said. “I have given you all that Father left me. I will not disobey Sir Rufus’ strictures on my inheritance.”

  “Get off that hobby horse, sister. I tire of Sir Rufus.”

  “Have you lost your position?”

  “No, but what use is it to me?”

  “You wrote that you would get a promotion.”

  “So I will. What good will a few more guineas do?”

  “Since they are all you have, I would say a great deal.” Sarah stood. “I cannot help you.”

  “Will not,” he snarled.

  “You may stay to dine,” she offered. “I would give you a room but we stay only a very few weeks. You are welcome to stay at Edgerton Manor if it is necessary.”

  Leonard flew up and at Sarah. He grabbed her and shook her. “I need blunt, Sarah, not food or a dammed place to stay. Is your brain addled?” He smiled when she paled.

  “Funds, Sarah. Guineas. Not food or a room.”

  Apprehension hit with sickening force. “That is all I am prepared to offer you.”

  “You shall rue this day’s work, Sarah,” he swore and thrust her away so hard that she staggered and fell. “On my life, you shall.”

  Sarah stared at his retreating back. What did Father or I do that has turned you into this strange person? Michael, I am sorry.

  Amabelle rushed into the salon and helped Sarah to her feet. “Stepmama, are you all right?”

  Sarah took a step and winced.

  “You must tell Darton to forbid him the house,” Amabelle said as she helped Sarah to the settee.

  “Michael did not mean it,” Sarah said. She prayed that she was right about that. “He will apologize.”

  “Only to convince you to help him,” Amabelle objected.

  At the salon door, Darton coughed. “The Countess of Tretain and Mademoiselle Leora Ribeymon.”

  Amabelle whirled around and sank into a curtsy.

  When Lady Edgerton limped as she took a step, Lady Juliane hurried forward. “Please, sit, ladies,” she entreated. “I am sorry if we have come at an inopportune time.”

  “No, my lady.” Sarah collected herself. “I slipped a moment ago and wrenched my ankle.”

  “You know exactly how to care for it. Your receipt for rheumatism has helped the Dowager. She sends gratitude,” Lady Juliane told her.

  “That is not necessary.”

  “But it is,” Mademoiselle Ribeymon insisted. “We want to thank you for caring for Hadleigh. André told us you saved his life.”

  At Lady Edgerton’s warm blush, Julianne smiled at the young woman at her side. “You are Miss Amabelle Edgerton?”

  “Yes, my lady.”

  “You look much of an age with Leora,” she motioned to her niece. “Come, sit with Leora while I sit with your stepmother.”

  Amabelle threw a look at Sarah who nodded.

  “We shall have a comfortable coze,” Juliane told Sarah. “But first, do you need to tend to your ankle?”

  “No,” Sarah said, despite the dread rising in her.

  “How did you learn all you know about herbs? Hadleigh told me you have mastered their Latin names. He assures me that you are a better doctor than most men.”

  When Sarah looked dismayed, Lady Juliane added, “No one will learn that Tarrant spent those months with you. But I have to express my ... our great debt.” She looked down at her gloves.

  “My eldest daughter, Michelle, died in April. I do not know what I would have done if we had also lost Hadleigh.”

  “Say no more,” Sarah assured her. “I can only imagine how devastating that must have been.”

  “Yes. You have no children?”

  “Sir Rufus and I were not so blessed,” Sarah said with a forced smile. She was unwilling to let a stranger know how deep a sorrow that was, how she had suffered, longed for a child until work with herbs and healing had eased that pain. “I am content with Amabelle.”

  The countess glanced at the young lady. “She is lovely. I now fully understand why André may have a tendre for her.”

  Sarah glanced at the two young women. “Mademoiselle Ribeymon is also beautiful.”

  “She is my younger sister’s daughter. Judith was killed during the Terror as was her husband. Her children have been with me since that time.

  “Perhaps you did not realize that Hadleigh also came to us as a young lad? His parents were killed in a coach accident.”

  “No. He spoke little about his family.”

  “Hadleigh has always kept to himself except with André. He was always quieter and more serious minded. One wishes de la Croix did not appear such a fribble at times.”

  “The baron seems an excellent young man.”

  “My husband is not concerned, so I do not worry. But I go on.” Lady Juliane rose. “Do remain seated, Lady Edgerton.

  “Come, Leora.”

  In their coach, Lady Juliane and Leora exchanged looks. Lady Juliane deeply regretted she was not as skilled an interrogator as the dowager. “What did you think?” the countess asked.

  “Amabelle is one of the prettiest girls I have ever met. Though she is a little vain.” Leora smiled. “I like her. She is not at all feather-brained like I thought she would be.”

  “And Lady Edgerton?”

  Leora sighed. “I was taken aback by her appearance and age. She was displeased when you spoke of Hadleigh. I find that most odd. He is very happy to speak of her. Do you not find that surprising now that we have met her?”

  “I am puzzled, but she saved his life,” Lady Juliane commented. “Perhaps she and Hadleigh—” She recalled her niece’s innocence, she broke off.

  “That she and Hadleigh had an affair?!” exclaimed Leora. “I will not believe it.”

  “Because she is not attractive?”

  “Because of his sense of honour,” Leora returned.

  “We should not speak of such matters. Do not mention this to Hadleigh—or André. Then we would be in the suds.”

  Leora looked askance at such a phrase.

  “It is a wonder you have not grown up a hoyden under my tutelage, my dear.”

  * * *

  October 10th Tuesday

  Gilmar Crandall hurried out of the apothecary shop carrying several brown-wrapped packages. He collided with a passing gentleman and would have fallen but for the steadying of a firm hand on his arm. Glancing up as the man dropped his hold he exclaimed, “Baron de la Croix, thank you.” He looked to see who he had bumped and frowned when he saw it was Hadleigh Tarrant.

  “Wipe away that scowl. You didn’t hurt me,” Hadleigh said with a smile. “Didn’t k
now you were in London.” He motioned toward the packages in Crandall’s arms. “A shopping expedition?” he teased.

  “Medicines I have difficulty finding in Lewes,” Crandall began seriously and then saw the two young men’s grins. “I apologize for not watching where I was going. Did I—” he glanced at Hadleigh’s feet.

  “No harm done,” Tarrant said. He plucked a couple of the packages from the doctor’s arms. “Where are you bound?”

  “The Pultney where I am staying.”

  At a nod from Tarrant, André stepped into the street and halted a hackney.

  “I shall go with you,” Hadleigh said and looked inquiringly at de la Croix.

  “I have some other business. You shall come to my rooms later?” he asked Hadleigh.

  “Of course, before the Mandel’s fête,” Hadleigh told him and followed Crandall into the hackney.

  When they were underway Crandall saw the younger man study him. “You are well?”

  “Very. The foot seldom troubles me.” Hadleigh raised a hand. “I did not know you were come to London. Does—”

  “Neither Sarah nor Amabelle know I have arrived. Have you seen them?”

  “Several times.”

  “Are they well?”

  “As far as I know,” Hadleigh said.

  Crandall noticed the wariness in the other man’s voice. How can I disabuse him of any interest in Sarah? No, perhaps that is not wise, yet. “Miss Amabelle has proven popular among the gentlemen?” he asked instead.

  Hadleigh grinned. “Very.”

  “I imagined she is enamoured of all London has to offer,” Crandall said just barely holding back a sigh.

  “Says she never wants to leave.”

  “That’s what I feared.” Crandall did sigh this time. The little minx had caught his heart a year ago and he had yet to think how he could woo her, how he could arouse any interest in the heart of such a lovely young woman as Amabelle.

  “What was that?” Hadleigh asked, his curiosity evident.

  Hoping to keep his interest in the young woman concealed, the doctor said, “I fear she will cause Sarah much aggravation. You know how the chit is.”