Her Secret Beau: A Touches 0f Austen Novel Bok 3

by Leenie Brown

  And, in the blink of an eye, life was back to dreary.

  Chapter 4

  “I was sorry to have missed you yesterday, Blakesley.”

  Walter turned away from studying the couples lining up for the first dance and toward the gentleman who had greeted him.

  “Mr. Clayton.” He gave him a shallow bow. “It was unfortunate that I could not greet you at Erondale, though I suspect it was poor planning on my part. I should have waited another day before calling. However, I was anxious to make sure that all was well and as you expected it should be.”

  “I understand you had to replace your housekeeper rather suddenly, so I can understand your anxiety about things.”

  “Apoplexy is not just a scourge of the wealthy. Of course, my friend, Mr. Norman could tell you more about that.” Walter motioned to the fellow next to him. “Mr. Clayton, if I may, this is Mr. Norman, one of the many physicians here in Bath, and in my opinion, one of the best. Mr. Norman, Mr. Clayton.”

  “It is a pleasure to meet you. I had hoped to gain an introduction to a man of medicine from Blakesley. I knew that if anyone knew precisely who I should meet, it would be him.” Graeme leaned forward. “I think that was the one thing at which he excelled in most in college – knowing who was who and what was what.”

  “He does have an ear for such things,” Mr. Norman agreed.

  “Someone needs to,” Walter inserted. “Mr. Clayton’s wife has a delicate constitution,” he added in a whisper.

  Graeme smiled broadly. “More so now than most times, though no one is to know that.”

  “And you have brought her to Bath in spite of her condition?” Walter asked in surprise.

  “She would not have it any other way. Her constitution might be delicate, but her will is not.”

  Walter chuckled. “I would assume that is a good thing since she is married to you.”

  Graeme only shrugged and smiled in response. “I will introduce her to you as soon as I can pry her away from Mr. and Mrs. Shelton and Miss Love.”

  Walter’s eyes roved over the crowd as best they could. “You should come earlier so that you might get seats in the gallery,” he said in passing to Mr. Clayton.

  “It is rather a crush,” Graeme agreed. “I think if my wife had known it would be so, she might have allowed me to persuade her to stay at Stratsbury Park.”

  “Not a fan of large groups of people, is she?”

  “Not normally, but there are inducements to enduring it now, you see.”

  “Such as?” Mr. Norman inquired.

  “She has never had a season and thinks that it is best to experience one before she becomes a mother so that she can be prepared for what her child will experience in seventeen years or so.”

  Walter chuckled.

  “Bea likes to be prepared for all eventualities,” Graeme offered.

  “Different sides of the same coin, then,” Mr. Norman muttered.

  “Quite,” Graeme agreed.

  “It seemed to me that such is also true of Shelton and his wife.” Walter’s lips tipped up as he finally found for whom he was looking. Mr. Shelton was bending to hear what a very pretty young lady named Grace was saying. Miss Love was it? “Is that your guest with Mr. Shelton?” he asked Graeme.

  “Yes, that is Miss Love. Would you care for an introduction?”

  Yes, yes, he would very much like to meet the secretive Miss Love. “If it is not a bother,” he replied with an air of indifference before following Graeme across the room.

  “How do you know her?” he asked as they moved through the gathered throng.

  “She is my wife’s cousin.”

  “Ah, I see. Mr. Shelton said that you were collecting her in Bath, does she have family here?”

  “Yes and no. Her mother, father, and sister are here for the season.”

  “An unmarried sister?” Walter asked as if he did not already know such a thing to be true.

  “Yes, and not worth your time.” There was a cold bitterness to Graeme’s tone that was curious.

  “Then, you shall have to point her out to me so that I might avoid her.” A thing which he had already intended to do. He had both seen and heard enough from the other Miss Love to inform him that a wide berth around her would be best.

  “Gladly,” Graeme replied.

  There must a story of great interest behind such an emphatic response. Perhaps over time, Walter would discover it, but for now, he was about to meet the mysterious Grace – after he met Mrs. Clayton, that is. Blasted propriety that stood in the way of satiating curiosity!

  “Oh!” Grace cried upon being introduced to Walter. “I believe I saw you yesterday in the gardens.”

  “I believe you are correct. You do look familiar and that must be where I saw you.”

  “And then you visited a tailor,” Grace added. “Felicity – that’s my sister – was in need of a new pair of gloves,” she explained to the group.

  “Did she find what she needed?” Walter asked. This young lady was as delightfully entertaining as her secret smiles had told him she might be.

  “Felicity always finds what she wants,” Grace said with a flutter of her lashes.

  “Even if someone else has it,” Roger Shelton muttered, earning a glare from his wife.

  “You are not wrong,” Grace assured him. “However, I was fortunate enough to claim her old pair.” She held out her hands for inspection. “I should not tell you this, but there was the tiniest tear right here.” She pointed to a spot just above her left wrist. “But I dare anyone to know that it is there.”

  “Your needlework is exemplary, Miss Love. I would not have thought that those rosebuds hid a blemish. It is very well done.” Walter was not prevaricating. She had done a marvelous job of disguising the tear and making the gloves even more lovely than they originally had been. She was a clever young woman.

  “It is, is it not?” she agreed with a pleased smile.

  Clever, and not unwilling to claim such a thing.

  “Would you allow me the privilege of a dance?” he asked. Her eyes grew wide at the offer and her head shook ever so slightly. She was refusing him?

  “I am sorry,” she said softly, “but I was hoping for someone else to claim my hand for the next dance.” Her cheeks grew rosy.

  “No one has asked you,” Shelton muttered.

  “No, but if I give this dance to Mr. Blakesley then I will not be free if another arrives to ask.”

  Roger Shelton’s brow furrowed. “You did not mention this before.”

  “Because I did not know the gentleman’s name. One must not speak of a hope to dance with someone to whom she has not been introduced.” She cast a glance in Mr. Norman’s direction. “However, that is no longer a problem.”

  “Norman?” the question flew out of Walter’s mouth.

  Grace’s head bobbed up and down. “Though it is forward to even admit to it.”

  Forward was not the word Walter would use for it. “Well, then, Norman, do not keep the lady waiting.” Walter knew his tone was less than gracious.

  Grace put a hand on his arm but then withdrew it quickly. “Do not be discouraged, Mr. Blakesley. It is not that I do not wish to dance with you. It is just that I had hoped to speak to Mr. Norman.”

  “You had?” Roger echoed the question in Walter’s mind.

  “Yes, I would like some advice.” Her hands were twisting in a nervous sort of fashion. “About a condition.”

  What was she about?

  “You wish to speak to him because he is a physician?” Mrs. Shelton’s tone was incredulous.

  Grace’s head bobbed up and down as she pulled her lower lip between her teeth. Walter would put ten pounds on it that the chit was lying.

  “You did not know he was a physician until just now,” Mrs. Clayton said.

  “But he looked like one,” Grace declared.

  “He looked like one?” Skepticism filled Roger’s question. Apparently, no one else quite believed Miss Love’s story a
ny more than Walter did.

  “And what is your condition?” Mr. Clayton asked, earning him a disapproving “Graeme” from his wife.

  “Oh, it is merely a curiosity, really.”

  “About what?” Graeme pressed.

  Grace tapped her chest.

  “Your heart?” Walter said. “Are you not a trifle young for such a thing?”

  Grace fluttered her lashes at him. “Did I say it was my heart?”

  “It seemed as if you did,” Roger inserted.

  “Well, it might be, or it might not be. If you would all just allow Mr. Norman to ask me to dance, then after I have spoken to him, he can share what he knows with his friend and I will tell you all about it on our ride home.” Her brow furrowed. “I am not intentionally being rude to Mr. Blakesley.” She huffed. “Do not look at me as if I am my sister.”

  The last comment raised several eyebrows, including Walters, for it was spoken with great vehemence.

  “Mr. Norman.” Walter gave his friend a nudge. “The rest of us are counting on you to discover what we would like to know.”

  “Miss Love, might I have the pleasure of this dance?” Mr. Norman asked.

  “I thought you would never ask.” Grace put her hand in his but instead of allowing him to lead her directly to the dance floor, she stopped so that she was standing shoulder to shoulder with Walter, though she was looking toward the dancers and he was looking away. “Please, do not dance with my sister,” she whispered and then allowed herself to be swept into the group of dancers.

  “That was odd.”

  “You have never been more correct about anything, Shelton,” Graeme agreed.

  “What did she say to you just now, Blakesley?” Roger asked.

  Walter shook his head in bewilderment. “She told me not to dance with her sister. I’m beginning to think that Miss Love’s sister is akin to poison.”

  “Very like it,” Graeme assured him. He blew out a breath. “She broke my brother’s heart,” he whispered.

  Ah. Things were beginning to fall into place. “My condolences,” he muttered.

  “It was done in a rather spectacular fashion,” Roger added. “You would do well to heed Grace’s advice.”

  Even Shelton was warning him away from the other Miss Love? That added to the weight of caution greatly. Graeme Clayton had never been quite as devil-may-care about things as Roger Shelton had been. Therefore, a warning from Graeme was to be heeded, but, when it was paired with rousing support from Roger, the danger of ignoring such advice would be foolish in the extreme, and Walter was no fool.

  “Then, I shall take myself to the card room and await Mr. Norman there.”

  “You are not dancing?” Mrs. Shelton asked in surprise.

  Walter smirked. “It seems the safest way to avoid Miss Love’s sister, and I have already suffered rejection once. I am not entirely certain I can survive it a second time, although perhaps if I were to ask a young lady while Norman is occupied and not at my side.” He chuckled and shook his head.

  If not for the way Miss Love had used a begging sort of tone when she had whispered please to him just now, he might have truly felt her rejection far more than he presently did. The word was as tantalizing as her secret smiles, which she flashed at him once again when he looked her direction as she lined up across from Norman. The taunting tease of a woman!

  “If you find you change your mind,” Mrs. Shelton said, “I am not opposed to dancing and, as much as my husband would rather that I dance every set with him, it is not how things are done. I would not refuse your offer.”

  “I shall keep that in mind,” Walter said with a nod of his head before making his way out of the room to find a table at which to sit and watch others play cards while he and a glass of port contemplated the secrets held by the lovely Miss Grace Love.

  Chapter 5

  “I saw you dancing.”

  Grace pasted a smile on her lips. She had been doing her best to not meet up with her mother, for doing so would inevitably lead to having to speak with her sister. And, she was not wrong, for Felicity was at her mother’s side, looking all eagerness.

  “He was very nice looking and exceptionally light on his feet,” Mrs. Love continued.

  “Oh, indeed!” Felicity cried. “He might be one of the best dancers here.”

  “Even better than Mr. Ramsey?” Grace asked. Her sister should be thinking only of Mr. Ramsey, but, of course, she was not.

  “Yes, I do believe so, though I would not for all the world tell him so,” her sister replied.

  “What was his name?” her mother asked eagerly.

  “Mr. Norman,” Grace replied. “He is a physician.”

  Her mother gasped and blinked. “A physician? He has no estate?”

  A wicked thought captured Grace’s imagination. “None of which I know, but he has a home here in Bath. Some rooms somewhere. I really do not know where.” Nor did she really know in what sort of accommodation Mr. Norman lived, but rooms had seemed like they would be the most revolting residence. “There is still so much to learn about Bath.”

  “Rooms?” Felicity repeated. “Not even a townhouse?”

  Yes, it was fun to see them both so aghast at her choice of a dance partner. She was certain Felicity would not even attempt to steal Mr. Norman away from her — not even if he was light on his feet, which he was.

  “He does not have one yet,” Grace quite possibly lied, making a mental note to discuss this with Mr. Norman at some point, “but once he is better established, I am certain he will have a townhouse.” If he did not already have one that is. “He seems very intelligent. I have every faith in his ability to become quite successful in his career.” She should also likely find out how successful he was at present. They had spoken a little about themselves while dancing, but long drawn out discussions were not meant for the dance floor. Therefore, the focus of their conversation had been about Felicity and Mr. Blakesley.

  “Yes, yes. I am sure he will be,” her mother muttered.

  Grace straightened her glove as she allowed her less than commendable thought from earlier to make itself fully known. “I have given him leave to call on me tomorrow.”

  “You have not!” her mother cried. “A physician? Grace!”

  Grace batted her lashes and looked at her mother in feigned surprise. “Is there something wrong with that?”

  “Of course, there is,” Felicity snapped. “One does not participate in a season to secure a physician as a husband. One strives for a higher connection.”

  Grace smiled at her sister. “But I am not here for the season. You are. I am only here because there was nowhere else to send me.”

  “That is not true.” Her mother’s whisper was harsh. “We had hoped you would get a partial season and find some success.”

  “Is that true, Felicity?” Grace asked in as sweet a confused tone as she could.

  Her sister looked at their mother in surprise before turning her attention back to her sister. “Of course, it is.”

  “Then, you will not fault me for wishing to have some success in getting to know Mr. Norman? He is excessively handsome, and from what I hear, he comes from a wealthy family. He was just not born first or even second or third. Sadly, he was fourth, which was a grave oversight on his part. However, he seems quite happy in his chosen occupation, and, from the greetings he received from several people, I would venture a guess that he is well-respected.” She looked over her shoulder and then leaned toward her sister and mother as she lowered her voice. “I believe Mr. Clayton will keep him in mind for Bea if there should be a need. I am not certain how she will tolerate Bath. She is not used to so many people, you know.”

  Mrs. Love looked startled by that revelation. “Is she unwell?”

  “No,” Grace assured her with all haste. “It is just a precaution. You know how Bea can be. Frankly, I think it is sweet how well Mr. Clayton cares for her.” She sighed. “I would not have to worry about good care if I were to decide on M
r. Norman. I do think he would see to the well-being of his wife quite well. You can see his caring nature in his eyes. They are a lovely shade of brown.”

  She had no intention of ever becoming Mrs. Norman, no matter how kind and compassionate she truly found Mr. Norman. However, neither her sister nor her mother needed to know that.

  “Do be serious,” Felicity scolded. “He would not have the means to see you set up as you would desire. How many fine dresses could a lady expect to have on a physician’s income?”

  “Oh, at least, as many as I have now,” Grace assured her but then sighed. “Of course, I do not have many at present.”

  Mrs. Love grasped Grace’s hand. “You are a very good sister to give up so much on our sister’s behalf. Is she not, Felicity?”

  “Yes, very good,” Felicity replied.

  It would have been a more convincing agreement if Felicity had looked even a smidgeon guilty for what her sister was giving up because of her.

  “Oh!” Felicity cried. “I have worn this dress three times now to various functions. I am certain I cannot be seen in it again. So, I will send it to you. With a few alterations, it will be very flattering on you.” She ran the ribbon at the waist of her dress between her fingers. “I would change out the embellishments if I were you. That would make it look less like my dress and more as if it has always been yours.”

  “That is a very generous thing!” Their mother cried. “I will send some lace and ribbon with it.”

  Right. How very generous. Grace thought ruefully. That dress was supposed to have been hers before it was snatched away for her sister’s use.

  “However,” her mother added in a whisper, “I would caution you against settling on the first gentleman who asks you to dance.”

  Grace laughed lightly. “Really, Mama. I must find someone to refuse before I can find someone to wed. Mr. Norman seems the perfect sort of gentleman to sustain such a blow. Would you not agree, Felicity? I am certain just by being seen with him, I will become much more sought after.”