Gayle Buck

by The Hidden Heart

  Mrs. Burlington sighed softly in satisfaction. She settled back in her chair and sipped genteelly at her ratafia.

  “How very nice, to be sure. I shall certainly look forward to it,” Lady Caroline said, forcing enthusiasm into her voice. She had so very nearly convinced herself that she would not again have to playact in concert with the Earl of Walmesley that now she felt only the liveliest dismay.

  “It is to be on the fourth,” the grandduchess said. She smiled at Mrs. Burlington, who had not quite disguised her distaste for the ratafia and thus in the grandduchess’s estimation had marked herself as a foolish woman. “I am much looking forward to your attendance as well, ma’am. Your presence will certainly be a welcome addition to our little company.”

  “I am positive that both my niece and I could not think of anything finer than an evening at Walmesley, your grace. We have been rather dull of late, I fear, what with the lack of company at this time of year,” Mrs. Burlington said.

  The butler entered to quietly inform Lady Caroline of another caller. He bent near her ear to give the visitor’s name in a low voice. Lady Caroline looked around in consternation. It was on the tip of her tongue to deny admittance. But Lord Hathaway had followed straight after the butler. He had long since stopped standing on ceremony when he called at Berwicke, and such was his own heightened sense of self-worth that it never occurred to him that his call could be construed as awkward.

  Lord Hathaway made his bows to Lady Caroline and to Mrs. Burlington, expressing gravely his hopes of the ladies’ continued good health in the increasingly chill and damp weather. Then he begged to be presented to their companion.

  Lady Caroline resignedly made the proper introduction.

  Lord Hathaway’s heavy brows shot up at learning the elderly lady’s identity and at once his manner was all deference. He bowed low over the grandduchess’s hand. “I am pleasantly overwhelmed to make your acquaintance, your grace. Truly, this is an unlooked-for honor.”

  Lady Caroline was amused by his lordship’s fawning behavior. However, when she glanced at the grandduchess’s frosted eyes, she realized that that grande dame was not at all taken with Lord Hathaway’s heavy-handed compliments and ponderous manners. The grandduchess became increasingly haughty and condescending in her conduct, which served to impress Lord Hathaway further. However, Lady Caroline could easily tell that a crushing snub was in all probability but a breath away.

  “Do you reside in the neighborhood, Lord Hathaway?” the Grandduchess Wilhelmina Hildebrande asked. Her bored expression openly conveyed her desire to send his lordship on his way, but Lord Hathaway was impervious to even such open hints.

  “Indeed I do. I possess a very fine estate which is but a short carriage distance from Berwicke. I fancy that though my manor is not so steeped in history as Berwicke Keep, it compares very well. Very well indeed,” Lord Hathaway said. “I have commissioned several modern improvements that must quite make up for any deficiencies of that sort. I shall be most honored if I may show you all about my small kingdom one day, your grace. You will be fascinated by the acres of new rooms that I have had erected, I expect.”

  The Grandduchess of Schaffenzeits did not appear to think that that was a recommendation to her. As little as she herself liked Lord Hathaway’s style of gallantry, Lady Caroline liked even less for anyone to receive the sort of raking set-down that she could see building in the grandduchess’s eyes, and to spare Lord Hathaway the humiliation, she interjected, “Lord Hathaway is known as a very worthy gentleman and an excellent neighbor, and certainly he has proved to be just that to us here at Berwicke.”

  “Yes, true, niece. His lordship has been quite accustomed to sitting in our pockets, as the saying goes,” Mrs. Burlington said. She thought that a clever little hint to the grandduchess would not be amiss, and therefore she cast an amused glance in Lady Caroline’s direction. “I do not know that it is so much my company that Lord Hathaway is most desirous of obtaining, however. Oh, no, indeed! I am sure his lordship will agree with me when I say that he has been a friendly admirer of Lady Caroline’s for several months.”

  Lord Hathaway nodded, though his own glance in Lady Caroline’s direction could have been said to lack that particular satisfaction that it once had held. “I have always stood in admiration of her ladyship’s many excellent qualities,” he said ponderously.

  “Amaris, such things can be of little interest to her grace.’’ Lady Caroline was embarrassed that it had been made so blatantly clear that Lord Hathaway considered himself to be her suitor. She did not know what her aunt could be thinking about to make such a pointed reference. Mrs. Burlington was not usually so free in exalted company.

  The Grandduchess Wilhelmina Hildebrande put up her thin brows. “On the contrary, I find everything about this charming place to be of some interest. For instance, I should like to hear more of the improvements that you have made at your estate, Lord Hathaway. Unfortunately, good manners will not allow me to outstay my welcome today. However, in light of the friendly—one might almost say intimate— standing that you are on with the ladies of Berwicke, I would be most pleased if you would condescend to join us at a small dinner that I am giving at Walmesley. Then you may tell me more about your holdings.”

  “I would be extremely honored to do so, your grace,” Lord Hathaway said, gratified. He thought it most satisfactory that one of such high distinction should have immediately recognized his worthiness of character. He blew out his cheeks in a pleased way.

  Lady Caroline was appalled. She could not imagine a worse calamity than to have her former suitor present at a dinner that in some respects must be treated as an engagement party.

  “I shall now take my leave of you all. I have thoroughly enjoyed the kind hospitality, and most particularly the present company. Lady Caroline, Mrs. Burlington, good day. Lord Hathaway.”

  As Lady Caroline took the grandduchess’s extended hand, her gaze met the lazy amusement in the elderly lady’s eyes. Lady Caroline realized that the grandduchess knew exactly what Lord Hathaway was to her and it had been for that precise reason that she had issued him an invitation to Walmesley. With a great deal of indignation Lady Caroline thought she had rarely been privileged to meet a more devious or more dangerous old woman than the Grandduchess of Schaffenzeits.

  “I am anticipating the evening of the fourth,” she said defiantly.

  “Are you, my dear? I would not wish my guests to be disappointed. I do hope that your anticipation is justified and that it will prove to be an entertaining evening.” The Grandduchess Wilhelmina Hildebrande bestowed a last smile on the company and swept out of the drawing room.

  Lady Caroline shook her head as she turned to her aunt and Lord Hathaway and spoke some of her thoughts aloud. “I do not think I have ever been in the presence of a shrewder or more determined lady.”

  “What an odd thing to say, Lady Caroline. I am sure that there was nothing in the grandduchess’s manner to make one think her grace of a devious nature or possessing of a pushing manner. Quite the contrary, I thought. Her grace was most properly aware of her position, of course, but exceptionally affable for all that. I was personally most gratified by her interest,” Lord Hathaway said.

  Mrs. Burlington cast an indulgent glance at his lordship. “Be that as it may, my dear Lord Hathaway, Lady Caroline is undoubtedly correct. The Grandduchess of Schaffenzeits is of a very quick understanding indeed.”

  Lady Caroline looked at her aunt, realization coming to her, and she sighed. “Oh, Amaris. It was not at all the wisest thing to do. It serves only to complicate matters.”

  “That is just as well, my lady, as you shall admit, once this matter is straightened tidily away,” Mrs. Burlington said. “You must leave it in my hands, for I daresay I am something of a match for our grandduchess.”

  Lady Caroline was alarmed by this declaration. “Truly, Amaris, there is no need to exert yourself.”

  Mrs. Burlington merely smiled. With a touch of her characteris
tic malice she murmured, “Oh, but I think that I would be completely derelict in my duty if I did not do so, my lady.”

  Lord Hathaway looked from one lady to the other, completely bewildered. There were undercurrents that he did not understand, and he was not certain that he wished to, for there was that in Lady Caroline’s eyes that reminded him most strongly of her temper on that day upon which he had explained himself to her so forthrightly. He was not normally a timid man, but on this occasion he thought it would be the prudent course to bow himself out, which he did so in short order.

  Chapter Twenty

  On the afternoon of the fourth, tiny snowflakes commenced to drift gently down in the first snowfall of the season. The snow did not stick long, the ground being still too warm for it to do so, and melted to muddy slush.

  Lord Trilby, notified by his butler of unexpected arrivals, emerged from his study into the entry hall. He paused before bringing himself to the notice of his friends. The gentlemen brushed powdery snow off their shoulders and tapped their hats against their arms to dislodge the flakes on the brims, laughing and commenting all the while.

  The stir of dismay he had felt upon hearing of their arrival strengthened, for he could already tell, by a cursory overview and a short snatch of conversation he heard, that this was not to be a flying visit that they paid him.

  He sauntered forward, his demeanor reflecting only faint amusement. “I suppose I must voice a certain pleasure at this unexpected visit, gentlemen.”

  The three gentlemen turned as one to regard him. Mr. Underwood stepped forward, his hand out in greeting. A large grin lit his face as he shook the earl’s hand. “My lord! I fling myself upon your mercy. If you do not protect me from these brigands, I am sure I do not know what else may yet befall me this day,” he said.

  Lord Trilby looked him up and down, taking note for the first time of a coat streaked by wet and pantaloons and boots that had been muddied. “You look as though you have been tossed into a ditch, Carey.”

  Lord Heatherton, normally so mournful of countenance and manner, snorted laughter.

  The viscount, who stood beside Lord Heatherton, gave a smile unusually free of bitterness. “Be careful how you answer, Underwood,” he counseled.

  “I suppose by that you mean that you will mill me down otherwise,” Mr. Underwood said.

  “That is a possibility,” the viscount agreed.

  By this time Lord Heatherton and the viscount had finished giving over their damp greatcoats and beavers to the attentive footmen and joined their host and Mr. Underwood.

  “But what has brought you to this inglorious pass, sir?” Lord Trilby asked politely.

  Mr. Underwood cast a severe glance in the direction of his traveling companions. “You may well ask, my lord! My grievances are several, but I shall tell you instantly that of all of them, that was the worst indignity. I was indeed tossed into a ditch, as you so inelegantly phrase it. Yes, you may laugh, Miles, but it was not at all amusing at the time, I assure you! Of all the clunch-headed, cow-handed—!”

  “Cow-handed, Carey?” Viscount Weemswood inquired softly.

  Lord Trilby saw that his friend was winding himself up to deliver a vilification of some proportion, unwise in the extreme when its object was the viscount, and he took Mr. Underwood’s arm. “Come into the parlor, Carey. You will feel much more the thing with a warm fire at your back and a good brandy in your hand. Then you may rail to your heart’s content at poor Heatherton and Weemswood, who I gather are in the nature of being the authors of your sense of ill-usage.”

  “Poor Heatherton and Weemswood! Well, I like that! When I have just been telling you that I have suffered unimaginable indignities at their hands,” Mr. Underwood said. He shook his head and sighed as he accompanied his host into the parlor. “I fear that I am but a lone voice in a vast wilderness of indifference.”

  Lord Heatherton and the viscount entered the parlor in their turn.

  Viscount Weemswood sauntered to a chair and dropped into it with his careless athletic grace. “Is that so surprising to you, Carey? It is, after all, Miles to whom you have made your complaint,” he said, flashing his peculiar twisted smile. The characteristic coolness had returned to his eyes.

  “Quite true,” Mr. Underwood said, still enjoying his dramatic role. He accepted the filled wineglass that was offered to him by the earl with grateful thanks and put it to his chilled lips. He tasted the brandy, rolling and warming it on his tongue, and nodded his approval.

  The viscount also accepted a portion of brandy, and Lord Trilby crooked a brow at Lord Heatherton. “What will you have, Nana?”

  “Tea,” Lord Heatherton said promptly. “I shall wait for a proper tea. I am famished.” He had placed his back to the fireplace and lifted the tails of his coat so that the back of his trousers would warm the quicker. “Sinjin did not stop for luncheon, for fear that Carey would slip us at the posting house, you see, and so we have all had nothing but a bite of breakfast since this morning.”

  Lord Trilby’s dark brows rose. He glanced at the viscount, whose expression was at its blandest. The earl sighed, knowing what was required of him. “Very well. I admit it, Sinjin. My curiosity grows by leaps and bounds and even threatens to consume me whole. Shall my reputation suffer greatly when it becomes known, do you think?”

  Viscount Weemswood’s teeth flashed in a reluctant grin. “No, I believe that subtlest of disclaimers allows your reputation to remain fairly well intact, my lord.”

  “You relieve me profoundly, my lord. Now, Carey, you must tell me the whole, and pray do not think to spare my finer sensibilities, for I apprehend already that it is a lurid tale. So you may well draw it out to its fullest limits,” Lord Trilby said, seating himself in a wing chair.’

  “Very well, my lord.” Mr. Underwood joined Lord Heatherton at the mantel and leaned one shoulder against it. Relaxed and at his ease, he said, “The full and sum total of the matter is that I have been foully tricked, betrayed, abducted, and starved to within an inch of my life. Yes, and had my best overcoat ruined by that toss into the snow. As for my boots, they have been ruined by the enforced march endured at the hands of these merciless miscreants.”

  “Here, here! It wasn’t as bad as all that,” Lord Heatherton said, looking at Mr. Underwood with dawning indignation. “You quite liked the notion of posting down to Walmesley. You said that as you were at point-non-plus with those two ladybirds of yours, it was just the thing to give your spirits a fresh turn.”

  “Devil a bit!” Mr. Underwood protested.

  Viscount Weemswood grinned up at his friend from the depths of his chair. “Indeed you did, Underwood! As I recall, your exact sentiments were that you heartily wished to be gone from town until the hue and cry had spent itself, even if it meant burying yourself in the country for a fortnight or more.”

  Lord Trilby slanted a glance at Mr. Underwood’s direction. Mr. Underwood had the grace to look appropriately shamefaced. “I am positively overwhelmed that my roof engenders such handsome accolades, my friend. Er . . . two ladybirds, Carey? Is that not rather complicated?”

  “The expense is nothing to sneeze at, I assure you. As for the other, it is not at all complicated, as long as one takes care that neither of the fair lovelies in question knows anything of the other,” Mr. Underwood said.

  At this, Lord Heatherton and the viscount began to laugh. Mr. Underwood sent his riotous companions what he fully intended to be a dignified look of reproach, but it was quite ruined by the twitch of his own lips.

  “I think I begin to see the light,” Lord Trilby said. “How did the ladies discover your perfidy, Carey?”

  Lord Heatherton took out his kerchief to carefully dry his eyes, and it was he who answered. “Oh, it was the most monstrous piece of luck, my lord. Sinjin and I were tooling down the street, and there was Carey handing one lady in the door of a milliner’s shop, when out pops the other from the same shop! She takes one look and lets out a hideous screech. Ours was not the on
ly carriage that slowed, believe me. Then it was bellows to mend for poor Carey, what with the tremendous scoldings that were heaped upon his head by the two harpies and the hoots of the gathering curious besides.”

  “I assure you, it was a most deplorable scene, my lord,” Viscount Weemswood said.

  “I can only too well imagine,” Lord Trilby said, laughing. “My poor Carey, however did you come to be so careless as to patronize the same shop for both?”

  “How was I to guess that Nancy would take it into her pretty little head to exchange a hat this morning? Yes, and before noon, too! I have never known her to rouse herself before one o’clock in the afternoon,” Mr. Underwood complained.

  There was general laughter again.

  “Certainly you have had a most trying day, Carey. But I still fail to see how any of this is connected to Nana or Sinjin,” Lord Trilby said.

  “Ah! Now we come to it, my lord. Sinjin fairly dragged me into his curricle whilst Nana tossed a few conciliatory coins to the two lovely rioters, and they bore me off to the Ale and Drum.”

  “A good thing, too. Those two furies appeared set to do violence to poor Carey in another moment,’’ Lord Heather-ton said thoughtfully.

  “Such is the result of my enviable charm,” Mr. Underwood said with a modest cough.

  Viscount Weemswood tilted a mocking smile in his friend’s direction. “It is hardly a source of envy to me, Underwood. You may keep your honeyed tongue and amiable countenance. For myself, I vastly prefer to conduct my little affaires d ‘amour in the privacy of my own quarters or at the lady’s apartment.”

  “The open street does seem a mildly outlandish place to put an end to one’s amours,” Lord Trilby said.

  “The circumstances left much to be desired,” Mr. Underwood agreed feelingly. “I was never more taken aback in my life than when Nancy appeared outside the shop. It all left me a bit blue-deviled, as you may imagine. However, once I had left the Ale and Drum, where, I may add, I made my rash declaration that I wished to leave town, I was quickly made more cheerful by stumbling upon the fair Melinda. What a beauty she is—great sloe eyes and the most delectable mouth!”