Gayle Buck

by The Hidden Heart

  Lord Trilby glanced at Lord Heatherton and the viscount for clarification. “The fair Melinda?”

  “Nancy’s sister,” Viscount Weemswood supplied blandly.

  Lord Trilby’s brows lifted incredulously. “The same Nancy who was expected to be still abed?”

  “The very same,” the viscount said, not bothering any longer to hide his sardonic amusement.

  “Good God! Carey, I suspect you to be quite mad,’’ Lord Trilby said.

  “No, no! I am simply unable to refrain from passing by a pretty face,” Mr. Underwood said, laughing.

  Viscount Weemswood pointedly ignored Mr. Underwood’s rejoinder. “So we believed also, my lord, when Carey met us for luncheon and declared his intention to meet the fair Melinda the same afternoon. Believing Carey incapable of preserving himself, Nana and I conspired to whisk him safe out of harm’s way.”

  Lord Heatherton nodded, his eyes doleful. “Aye, we were honor-bound to do it. Mind, it was a near-run thing, for Carey would have it that he did not want to luncheon on the outskirts of town, but Sinjin persuaded him that it was the very place, and off we went.”

  “You see how I am treated, my lord,” Mr. Underwood said simply. “I never received my luncheon.”

  Lord Trilby nodded, amusement prominent in his eyes. “Quite reprehensible, indeed. I am persuaded that you did not accept such barbarity in a tame fashion.”

  “Carey threatened to leap from the phaeton,” Viscount Weemswood said. His teeth flashed in the swiftest of smiles. “I was obliged to spring my horses.”

  Lord Trilby laughed, understanding that Mr. Underwood had not dared to jump from the swift-moving carriage.

  “He drove like a veritable devil, Miles. Nana and I were in fear for our lives more than once when we chanced upon other vehicles and Sinjin hardly paused, but swept past with but an inch to spare on either side.”

  Lord Heatherton rocked on his heels. “It was a most splendid example of driving.”

  Viscount Weemswood made a mocking bow in acknowledgment of the compliment.

  “Quite! But fool that I was, I shouted that I did not think Sinjin could make that sharp turn at the crossroads. Sinjin simply gave that strange smile of his, dropped the reins, and let his cattle have their heads. The hair was raised up on my head, I can tell you,” Mr. Underwood said.

  He reflected a moment, then said fairly, “You would have done it, too, Sinjin, but for that coach coming unexpectedly round the corner. Lord, weren’t those passengers rattled when we flew under the coach horses’ noses!”

  Viscount Weemswood laughed with Mr. Underwood, and even Lord Heatherton smiled reminiscently.

  “I take it that is where you took the toss into me snow, Carey,” Lord Trilby said.

  “Oh, aye.” Mr. Underwood waved dismissively, having let go of his staged indignation. “But that was of little moment. Would you believe it, my lord? The coachman bawled only an inquiry after Sinjin’s horses, and when assured that none had suffered more than a sprained hock, he whipped up his jobbers and left us to make our way on foot to your door, leading the horses, of course. One of the back wheels of the phaeton was splintered, and we had to leave it.”

  “It was the rudest thing I have ever experienced,” Lord Heatherton said with a heavy frown. “I am in half a mind to report the man for willful malice, for after all, it is not as though Sinjin had locked wheels or some such thing.”

  Mr. Underwood made a derisive sound at the very idea that the viscount would have been so careless. “Sinjin is the consummate whip even at his most disguised. Of course there was no question of clumsy driving.”

  “I am overcome by such fulsome praise,” Viscount Weemswood murmured, his peculiar smile appearing.

  “It is an edifying tale indeed,” Lord Trilby said. “Of course you are all welcome to accept my humble hospitality until you feel the urge to return to town or at least until Sinjin’s phaeton has been repaired, but I warn you that Walmesley is deadly dull at this time of year. I have even found the hunting to be somewhat indifferent.”

  “Then what is it that drew you so abruptly away from town, Miles?” Viscount Weemswood asked curiously.

  Lord Trilby’s reply was never uttered, for the door opened and a lady glided into the room. She checked at sight of the gentlemen, who all rose hastily to their feet at her entrance. With the exception of the earl, the gentlemen stared open-mouthed at the unexpected vision of beauty.

  Fräulein Gutenberg glanced coolly at the three unknowns before her gaze fixed itself on the Earl of Walmesley’s unreadable face. When she spoke, her throaty voice was very soft. “Pardon the intrusion, my lord. Madam thought she left her shawl on the settee.”

  There was a sharp crash. Startled, all turned to see the cause of the noise.

  Mr. Underwood’s wineglass had slipped from his suddenly nerveless fingers to shatter on the hearthstones. Heedless of the stares of his friends or, indeed, of anything but the lady standing near the door, he enunciated, “Good God!”

  Viscount Weemswood shot a keen glance first at Mr. Underwood and then at the earl. Himself not entirely immune to the staggering effect of the lady’s beauty, he could not but realize that others might be even less impervious. “I believe that my previous question has been answered,” he murmured.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Lord Trilby was not able to stop the flicker of annoyance that crossed his face at the viscount’s words. Recovering almost instantly, however, he went to the young lady and offered his hand to her in order to draw her forward into the room.

  “Gentlemen, this is Fräulein Gutenberg. She has accompanied my great-aunt the Grandduchess of Schaffenzeits on her grace’s latest visit to England. Fräulein, allow me to present to you Lord John St. John, Viscount Weemswood, Mr. Carey Underwood, and Lord Edward Heatherton.”

  Lord Heatherton and the viscount had recovered sufficiently to voice the usual pleasantries. Mr. Underwood, however, seemed incapable of speech and merely made a deep bow over the Fräulein’s small slender hand.

  After exchanging greetings with the earl’s friends, Fräulein Gutenberg was faintly smiling when she returned her gaze to Lord Trilby. “I should return abovestairs now, my lord. Madam is waiting for me.”

  “Of course, Fräulein. We shall see you and the grand-duchess at tea? Very good. Oh, thank you, Heatherton. You have found it. Here is the missing shawl, Fräulein,” Lord Trilby said.

  Fräulein Gutenberg accepted the garment from Lord Heatherton, who alone had had the presence of mind to glance about for it and had discovered it draped over one arm of the settee. With a graceful inclination of her head and a softly murmured excuse, Fräulein Gutenberg left the parlor.

  “Carey appears to be in a state of suspension,” Viscount Weemswood observed dispassionately.

  Their attention thus directed, the earl and Lord Heatherton looked over at Mr. Underwood. He was pale of face and his eyes held a dazed expression.

  Lord Heatherton patted him kindly on the shoulder, much as one would do for an old dog caught up in the throes of a dream. “Wake up, Carey. She is gone now.”

  Mr. Underwood seemed to come to a partial return of his senses. He sank down into a convenient chair, but looked up agonizingly at Lord Heatherton. “Did you see her, Nana? Pray say that I did not conjure up that vision from the fumes of the earl’s excellent brandy.”

  “Brandy which you have shamelessly squandered,” Lord Trilby said. He pulled the bell rope in order to call a servant to clean up the shards of glass and to sponge the stains from the carpet where the wine had splashed. “And, yes, the Fräulein does exist, very much so.”

  There was a curious inflection to his voice that the viscount, at that moment the most perceptive of the earl’s friends, found very odd.

  Viscount Weemswood looked hard at the Earl of Walmesley, wondering what there could possibly be about the beautiful young Fräulein that had brought that peculiar edge to his lordship’s statement.

  Mr. Underwood put h
is head in his hands, groaning. “Then I am lost, utterly and completely lost.”

  “What of the fair Melinda?” Viscount Weemswood asked, shifting his attention from the puzzle suddenly presented him by the Earl of Walmesley with that single betraying comment.

  “Who?” Mr. Underwood looked up, and his vague eyes focused briefly. “Oh, Melinda. She is eclipsed, my lord, by the brightness of my revelation.”

  Lord Heatherton shook his head mournfully. “I am persuaded his brain is addled. Perhaps he grazed his head in taking that tumble, Sinjin?”

  “Not at all, Nana. Do you not recall? Carey confessed himself ‘incapable of passing by a pretty face.’ I do not think it an exaggeration to say that the Fräulein is no mere pretty face, but a diamond of the first water. It does not surprise me in the least, given our friend’s admitted weakness, that he has once more become the victim of coup de foudre,” Viscount Weemswood said.

  His gaze rested thoughtfully on the Earl of Walmesley’s face, but if he had thought to discover anything of interest from his lordship’s expression, he was disappointed.

  Lord Trilby appeared undisturbed, exhibiting neither undue interest nor boredom in the conversation while he directed the footman who had come in response to the bell’s summons to clean up the remains of Mr. Underwood’s drink.

  “A dashed pretty girl,” Lord Heatherton allowed, nodding. The gross understatement provoked laughter from Lord Trilby and the viscount, but elicited only another dull groan from Mr. Underwood.

  Somewhat bewildered, Lord Heatherton looked at each of his friends. “Well, is she not? I may be a slow-top with the ladies, but even I could see that.”

  “Indeed, Fräulein Gutenberg is quite pretty, Nana. But I pray you to be circumspect with your admiration, my friends. The Grandduchess of Schaffenzeits will look with disfavor on anything which might, however faintly, be construed to be a liberty taken with her lovely protégée,” Lord Trilby said.

  “The grandduchess is your great-aunt, I believe you said? Is that perhaps the same formidable dame whom I had the doubtful pleasure of meeting some years ago whilst rusticating once at Walmesley during our Cambridge years?” Viscount Weemswood asked.

  Lord Trilby grinned and said cheerfully, “The very same, Sinjin.”

  “Then I will go upstairs on the instant to smooth my appearance.” Viscount Weemswood said reflectively, “I still recall that her grace caught me with dirt clinging to my boots, and after a resounding scold dismissed me as no better than an untutored stable lad.”

  Lord Trilby laughed outright.

  Lord Heatherton exclaimed in amazement at this story. “You, Sinjin? Why, you are a veritable Corinthian! Everyone has always said so!”

  “You must perceive, then, that the Grandduchess of Schaffenzeits was a considerable influence upon me in my impressionable youth,” the viscount said.

  Mr. Underwood had been taking a gathering interest in the conversation. Now he leapt to his feet, saying in determination, “Miles, I must make myself presentable if I am to get the grandduchess to smile on me with favor.”

  “Surely it is the Fräulein’s favor that you desire?” Viscount Weemswood murmured.

  Mr. Underwood turned on the viscount and regarded him with pardonable resentment. “Damn you thrice over, Sinjin! I am streaked all over with mud and I have not my man with me, no, nor even a change of neckcloth!”

  “Rest easy, my anxious friend. Nana made arrangements for our valets to follow us shortly, even sending round a note to your man. You may yet appear to tea in perfect sartorial splendor,” Viscount Weemswood said.

  Mr. Underwood’s countenance cleared as though by magic. “Did you indeed, Nana? You are the best of fellows!”

  “Oh, well, as to that I don’t know,” Lord Heatherton said with an embarrassed cough. “I do know that one must have one’s man, however, if one means to go into the country, and so I told Sinjin.”

  “Nana insisted that we could not in honor abduct you without first making certain of your creature comforts,” Viscount Weemswood said.

  “And thus I was made to endure a tumble into a ditch and a hike of three miles. I truly appreciate the effort, Nana!”

  “Think nothing of it, for I am sure I do not,” Lord Heatherton said in his open way. He smiled in a good-natured fashion when the others laughed at him.

  “It is already approaching the hour. I shall go up at once and do what I can to refurbish my appearance,” Mr. Underwood said. “You will send my man to me the moment he arrives, will you not. Miles?”

  At the reminder of the time, the gentlemen had all risen.

  Lord Trilby smiled as he accompanied Mr. Underwood to the door. “Certainly I shall do so. In the meantime, I shall send my own valet round to your room to sponge and press your coat.”

  Mr. Underwood gratefully accepted this offer. “I stand in your eternal debt, Miles.”

  “All obstacles must fall away in face of the inexorable pursuit of love,” Lord Trilby said dryly.

  Mr. Underwood laughed. His good humor completely restored, he said, “I shall be making a longer visit with you than I intended, my lord. I find I’ve a taste for a deadly dull rustication.”

  Then, along with the viscount and Lord Heatherton, he followed a footman who was to show them to their rooms.

  Lord Trilby stood in the entry hall below, watching the three gentlemen ascend the stairs. A frown came to his face, as though he were contemplating a peculiarly difficult puzzle.

  He knew that he could not cancel the dinner party at that late hour, especially not when the Grandduchess of Schaffenzeits had virtually arranged it herself. She had given it out that she was particularly interested in making the acquaintance of Lady Caroline’s aunt.

  Lord Trilby had his own suspicions regarding the truth of that. In any event, her grace would never accept another trumped-up excuse without asking penetrating questions for which he had no answers.

  Lord Trilby grimaced slightly. He had no alternative but to allow the dinner party to take place with the addition of three extra gentlemen at table. Three gentlemen, moreover, who were well enough acquainted with the state of the friendship between himself and Lady Caroline that they would be most surprised at any mention of an engagement.

  He felt that he could trust his great-aunt to keep her word to maintain her discretion, but Mrs. Burlington was another matter altogether. That lady had always been beforehand in putting forward her opinions, and she had a magnificent disregard for anyone else’s sensibilities.

  Mrs. Burlington also had a thirst for claiming illustrious acquaintances. Lord Trilby could well imagine the pleasure Mrs. Burlington would take in establishing herself in the eyes of a trio of London gentlemen as the future-in-law to the Grandduchess of Schaffenzeits. He could also imagine the lengths to which he himself would be driven to stop Mrs. Burlington from informing the whole party of the same interesting item.

  “What a damnable farce it will be,” he muttered.

  What had previously seemed so simple was fast assuming unmanageable proportions. The deception casually entered into for the Grandduchess of Schaffenzeits’ benefit was becoming more complicated than he could ever have conceived. If he had been wiser, he would have listened more closely to his secretary’s cautionings.

  The earl’s thoughts came full circle and he wondered again how he was to keep his friends ignorant of his supposed engagement to Lady Caroline.

  It was impossible, of course. Mrs. Burlington was bound to make some sort of reference to it that he would not be able to smooth over in time. Though Lord Heatherton might not catch it up on the instant, Lord Trilby had no such doubts about either Viscount Weemswood or Mr. Underwood. Those gentlemen would certainly wonder to hear such a fantastic claim, and he would not be able to refute it without creating just the sort of scene that he most desired to avoid with the grandduchess.

  In addition, it had never been Lord Trilby’s intention to expose Lady Caroline to public speculation. It was not only this
dinner party that would be involved, but the servants, in position to overhear the rumpus, would carry the tale throughout the neighborhood. Lady Caroline’s reputation would be wholly ruined and his own besmirched.

  It went hard against the grain to even contemplate Lady Caroline placed in such an ignoble position. He felt that he could not leave something of such importance to the whims of chance and a simple hope for the best.

  After a moment’s more reflection, Lord Trilby came to the unwelcome conclusion that he had no alternative but to take his friends at least partially into his confidence. He was certain that he could trust to their own innate discretion and good manners to spare Lady Caroline undue embarrassment. In addition, the gentlemen would carry no word of the unusual matter outside Walmesley, and in time it would be quite forgotten.

  The difficult decision was made. Still to be sorted out was how he could best carry it out and, more to the point, what he would tell Lady Caroline concerning the matter. Somehow, Lord Trilby had the feeling that her ladyship would not be at all accepting of his decision.

  Lord Trilby turned and made his way back to his study, his boots rapping sharply against the tiles.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  An hour later the gentlemen reassembled downstairs.

  The Earl of Walmesley’s valet had waited on each of the gentlemen from London, expertly brushing coats and overseeing the cleaning of boots. The valet’s time had been most commandeered by Mr. Underwood, who understandably had withstood more damage to his attire than his companions owing to his unfortunate experience earlier that day.

  Though there was nothing of the dandy about him, Mr. Underwood was nevertheless always careful of his appearance. In this instance, however, he took more care than was his usual wont. His hair was brushed neatly back and his pantaloons were smoothed creaseless into freshly polished boots. He fretted over what appeared to his eyes the crumpled state of his cravat, but he knew that there was nothing much that could be done with it. He restored the neckcloth as best as he was able, cursing the viscount again, and submitted to being aided back into his newly pressed coat by the earl’s valet.