A last inspection in the glass, a brushing away of an invisible mote of lint from his sleeve, and Mr. Underwood was at last satisfied with the effects of his limited toilet.
He was the last gentleman to emerge from his bedroom and therefore he had the exclusive gratification of meeting the ladies on the stairs.
Mr. Underwood civilly brought himself to the Grand-duchess of Schaffenzeits’ notice, remarking that he had had the honor of meeting Fräulein Gutenberg earlier when she had come down to the parlor in pursuit of the missing shawl. He managed to confine himself to a polite nod in the younger lady’s direction, even though it cost him dear not to express himself with more warmth. However he might have wished to do so, though, he could not disguise the light of admiration in his eyes.
“Indeed!” The Grandduchess Wilhelmina Hildebrande glanced thoughtfully from Mr. Underwood’s kindling glance to the Fräulein’s quiet smile. Fräulein Gutenberg’s dark eyes revealed only mild pleasure. “I have not had the opportunity to hear of your earlier meeting with Mr. Underwood, Marie.”
“I did not wish to disturb your rest unnecessarily, madam,” Fräulein Gutenberg said with perfect calm.
Mr. Underwood had always been swift with the feminine nuances, and he realized that the grandduchess was not best pleased to learn in such a roundabout fashion of the Fräulein’s small social adventure. He said quickly, “Then your grace was not aware that I and the others had arrived. Forgive me, madam. I would not have presumed to bring myself so familiarly to your notice if I had known. Despite the informality of our meeting, I hope that you will allow me to escort you downstairs.”
The Grandduchess Wilhelmina Hildebrande accepted the support of Mr. Underwood’s arm. As the trio started down the stairs, she said, “I confess to mild surprise to learn of the arrival of you and your companions. I was not aware that the earl planned to entertain us with company.”
“Oh, we can hardly be called invited guests,” Mr. Underwood said with a chuckle. “My friends and I simply took a notion to drop in at Walmesley for a short visit. We suffered an unfortunate carriage accident, requiring a new wheel, so I suppose we shall be fixed here for several days while we await repairs.”
The grandduchess slanted a skeptical glance toward Mr. Underwood, but remarked only, “Walmesley is often very quiet at this time of the year, as I recall. It is why I vastly prefer it over London. However, I daresay that we will all become acquainted over tea and be quite comfortable.”
Mr. Underwood, ever inclined to be the optimist, decided to overlook the grandduchess’s tepid courtesy and instead chose to consider the fortuitous meeting as an auspicious beginning. As a consequence, Mr. Underwood was well-pleased with himself as he ushered the ladies into the drawing room.
Lord Trilby made the introductions all around. The grand-duchess chose to ensconce herself on a wide settee, with Fräulein Gutenberg beside her. The gentlemen distributed themselves in a loose ring about the ladies as the servants brought in the tea.
The grandduchess requested that Fräulein Gutenberg pour the tea. Her grace accepted the first cup with a gracious nod and addressed herself to the gentlemen, drawing them out to talk about themselves.
While her mentor chatted in a seemingly idle manner, Fräulein Gutenberg quietly inquired each gentleman’s preferences, serving herself last. Though she did not appear to be listening closely, she nevertheless carefully collected those bits of information that the gentlemen let drop about themselves, their circumstances, and their way of life. The Fräulein had learned much from the Grandduchess of Schaffenzeits about the importance of discovering as much as possible about those about her.
Lord Heatherton, who had spurned inferior refreshment in anticipation of the tea, was at once intent on consuming an enormous amount to make up for the missed luncheon. His lordship, ever polite, carried his share of the conversation when he was addressed, but it was apparent to all that nothing interested him so much at the moment as the sandwiches, sweet biscuits, cake, and tea.
Viscount Weemswood recalled to the grandduchess their original meeting and he endured with surprisingly good grace the lady’s short humorous recounting of his past indiscretion. In the midst of his friends’ laughter he observed, “I was a mere bantling in those days.”
The Grandduchess of Schaffenzeits inspected the viscount’s thin intelligent face and his handsomely turned-out form again with more interest than before. She gave a sharp nod and in her guttural accents said, “You have done yourself credit, my lord. The awkward scruff-mannered cub that I remember is no more. I suspect, however, that there is yet something left of that undisciplined character lurking beneath the present polished exterior.”
Viscount Weemswood cracked a laugh. His cold eyes gleamed. “I fear that is true, your grace.”
Mr. Underwood seized the opportunity afforded by the viscount’s conversation with the Grandduchess of Schaffenzeits to lean close to Fräulein Gutenberg’s shoulder and engage her attention for a few moments.
He became quickly aware that the grandduchess was not so deep in her own conversation that she did not manage to overhear what was said between himself and the Fräulein. Mr. Underwood therefore prudently began to address himself to the grandduchess as well.
Lord Trilby overwatched it all with an expression of faint amusement, contributing to the conversation only as it behooved him.
At one point, when both the viscount and Mr. Underwood urged Fräulein Gutenberg to rise from her place and go over to play the pianoforte for the company, he encountered a glance from the Grandduchess of Schaffenzeits that was unmistakable.
Lord Trilby obeyed the unspoken summons and when he sat down beside his great-aunt, he was surprised to be greeted with a look of eloquent amusement.
“My dear Miles, you have surprised me yet again. I did not know you were so capable. I shall take care not to underestimate you in future,” the grandduchess said.
Lord Trilby slanted a brow at her. “Oh? Pray enlighten me, ma’am, for I cry ignorance.”
The grandduchess smiled fondly at the earl. “Very well, my lord, I shall stroke your sense of satisfaction. I am never behind in giving credit where it is due. You managed to produce a most charming young lady as your intended when I felt certain that none existed. That in itself was a marvelous feat. However, it pales in comparison to this. It was a masterful stroke indeed to invite your friends to Walmesley. I compliment you, Miles, for it is not often that I am faced with the completely unanticipated.”
Lord Trilby was taken aback. He took care to maintain his mild expression, however. “I am not certain I know what you mean, your grace. I was thoroughly taken by surprise by the arrival of my friends. They have always been assured of a welcome at Walmesley, of course. I am sorry if you do not care for the company.”
The Grandduchess Wilhelmina Hildebrande expressed her disbelief with an unladylike snort. “Come, Miles, let us have done with this feinting. I have listened politely to the sad story of an incapacitated phaeton and I have agreed that it was a great inconvenience, as was obviously expected of me. That was the role assigned to me, after all, was it not? However, I would think it beneath me not to acknowledge my respect on a most successful foray. Yes, indeed, I suspect that your ploy to provide my dear ambitious Fräulein with a surfeit of eligible partis to choose from may prove unexpectedly vexatious for my own plans.” She directed a nod at the small knot of gallants gathered about Fräulein Gutenberg.
Quite astonished, Lord Trilby followed his great-aunt’s glance. His friends were obviously paying court to Fräulein Gutenberg. Even Lord Heatherton, having sated himself, had become willing to pay pretty compliments to the beauty. As for Fräulein Gutenberg, she fairly radiated satisfaction as her eyes dwelt on each of the gentlemen’s faces in turn.
The earl’s face lit up with a slow delighted smile. He glanced again at the Grandduchess of Schaffenzeits and discovered that that dame was regarding him with a sharp speculation that instantly made him wary. It would not d
o to let the grandduchess guess that the astonishing result he witnessed had indeed come about merely by chance. Surely it was far better to leave her on her guard, Lord Trilby thought. Perhaps then she might think twice before trying to engineer another assault upon his defenses.
With the aplomb for which he was well-known, Lord Trilby made a courtly bow from the waist. “Very well, madam. I accept your congratulations, for I don’t doubt that you will speedily conspire to counter whatever happy effects this situation has gained for me.”
The grandduchess cackled. Her world-weary eyes were bright with affection as she looked on him. “Indeed, you may consider it as a foregone conclusion that I shall do so. However, I think I shall be content, for now, to allow you mastery of the field. Savor your small triumph, my lord, for I warn you it may well be your last.”
“It is early days yet, madam,” Lord Trilby said cheerfully.
Soon afterward, the Grandduchess of Schaffenzeits indicated that she wished to retire to her afternoon rest. Since she required the Fräulein to attend her, this effectively broke up the pleasant gathering.
Mr. Underwood looked closely for some sign that Fräulein Gutenberg was reluctant to leave in company with her exacting mentor, but she offered only the most correct civilities, scattered impartially amongst the gentlemen, before she exited.
The viscount requested wine from one of the footmen who entered to clear away the remnants of the tea. When the wine was brought, all of the gentlemen accepted a glass and talked idly of what had been transpiring in London during the earl’s absence.
After the servants had withdrawn, Mr. Underwood said, “I am now deuced glad that you fellows carried me off. Otherwise I might never have had the felicity of meeting Fräulein Gutenberg.” He raised his glass. “A toast, gentlemen. A toast to the lady who has at last succeeded in stealing my heart.”
“Carey, you are not contemplating anything foolish, I trust?” Lord Heatherton asked with an anxious air.
“Of course not,” Mr. Underwood said, but with such a faraway look in his eyes as he stared into the fire that Lord Heatherton was not at all reassured.
“Fear not, Nana. He will have no chance to fix his interest with the beauteous Fräulein,” Viscount Weemswood said.
Mr. Underwood looked around, shooting the viscount a concentrated look of suspicion. “Whatever do you mean?”
The viscount contemplated the wine in his glass, swirling it gently and admiring the rich color. “Why, surely it is plain, Carey. The Fräulein is meant for our host.”
On the words he lifted his gaze to look at the Earl of Walmesley.
“Damn your eyes, Sinjin. They are too perceptive by half,” Lord Trilby said mildly.
Mr. Underwood, who had quickly switched his attention to the earl, was now staring narrowly at his lordship. “It is true, then, my lord?”
Lord Trilby made an irritated motion with his hand. “It is the grandduchess’s intention, yes. It is not mine, however.”
He frowned, misliking the turn that the conversation had taken but recognizing as well that it was inevitable. Obviously the time had come to take his friends into his confidence, yet he found himself most reluctant to do so. It was against his innate pride even to acknowledge the ridiculous situation, let alone authenticate its gravity by referring to it.
“The Grandduchess of Schaffenzeits is one of the most willful and autocratic ladies I have ever had occasion to meet,” Viscount Weemswood observed softly.
The Earl of Walmesley shot another glance at the viscount. A reluctant smile began to tug at his lips. “I suppose that next you will offer your opinion that I am rather too fond of my great-aunt for my own good.”
Viscount Weemswood gave a negligent shrug of his shoulders, forbearing to reply.
“I am too fond of her grace,’’ Lord Trilby acknowledged. “Otherwise, I would cheerfully have told her to go to the devil long since. As it stands, I cannot wound the grand old lady so cruelly, and so, as a result of my lamentable sentimentality, I find myself in something of a predicament.” Lord Trilby frowned slightly as he stared into his wineglass.
“Whatever the trouble, Miles, rest assured that you may call upon any one of us,” Mr. Underwood said.
The earl raised his eyes. Rueful amusement leapt into their depths. “Actually, I believe that all of you have already done me a service. According to my great-aunt, it seems that your untimely arrival has worked to my advantage, in that the Fräulein’s thoughts have been given a new turn.”
“I do not quite follow you, my lord,” Lord Heatherton said.
“I do, however. What you have said interests me most profoundly, Miles,” Mr. Underwood said on a laugh. His brown eyes danced. “You may count on my enthusiastic cooperation, my lord. In point of fact, I shall do my damnedest to cut you out.”
“I thought I might count on you at least, Carey,” Lord Trilby said dryly.
“Oh, of course, I see it at last. Well, I am not quite the favorite with the ladies that Carey is, or that Sinjin can make of himself when he puts a bit of effort into behaving with common civility, but I shall do my part in making myself agreeable,” Lord Heatherton said stoutly.
“I do not know why I accept such undeserved insults from my friends. I am sure I am no more rude than the next fellow,” Viscount Weemswood said. The flicker of a smile crossed his face at the derisive sound made by Mr. Underwood and seconded by Lord Heatherton’s discreet cough.
He addressed the earl. “I had no notion that a visit to Walmesley at this time of year would prove so entertaining. My commitments in London are not of such moment that I cannot remain a fortnight or longer.”
“I am deeply appreciative of your support, gentlemen,” Lord Trilby said. “I know I need not point out that I rely upon your complete discretion. My reputation would suffer a harsh blow if it were known that I would go to such lengths to spare an elderly lady a shocking set-down.”
“Of course you may rely upon us, my lord. I am certain there is not one in this room who would allow a word in your disfavor,” Lord Heatherton said.
There was a murmur of agreement from the other two gentlemen.
“I am glad to hear it, for I have a confession to make which will most certainly astound you all and possibly cause you to reexamine your declaration of loyalty.”
Chapter Twenty-three
The Earl of Walmesley saw that he had gained their undivided attention. He could not but smile at the profound somberness that had promptly fallen over Lord Heatherton’s features. His lordship always anticipated the worst, but perhaps in this instance his apprehension would prove to be justified.
Lord Trilby’s eyes traveled to his other companions. Mr. Underwood regarded him with the alert look of a loyal retainer, while the viscount had of a sudden gone quite still and only by the wariness in his cold eyes betrayed that his interest had been engaged to an extraordinary degree.
Lord Trilby set his wineglass down on the table, the click of its base sounding a contrast to the waiting silence.
“As all of you are now aware, my great-aunt has made shift to provide me with a suitable candidate for roping me into marriage, in the delectable person of Fräulein Gutenberg,” he said.
At their nods, he continued in a colorless voice, “I have countered her grace’s inspiration by enlisting the help of a certain lady who has agreed, most reluctantly I may add, to stand as my intended until the grandduchess chooses to leave England behind.”
“Good God!” Viscount Weemswood abruptly straightened in his chair. His eyes, igniting in twin points of angry disbelief, narrowed on the earl. His long fingers clenched suddenly on the chair arms. “You must be mad, my lord!”
Mr. Underwood confined himself to a low thoughtful whistle.
It was left to Lord Heatherton to ask the obvious question. He cleared his throat in a diffident fashion and sought a delicacy of phrasing, deciding finally that there was none. “My lord, this lady ... is she perhaps known to any of us?”
&n
bsp; Lord Trilby glanced at the savage expression on the viscount’s face. He held himself very still, knowing full well that gentleman’s capacity for fury, yet not fearing it. The friendship between them had survived a tumultuous history, one which had irrevocably linked them. “Yes, I fear that the lady in question is quite familiar to each of you. It is Lady Caroline Eddington.”
“You should be thrashed within an inch of your life for dragging that lady into your filthy mire, my lord,” Viscount Weemswood ground out, looking very much as though he were just the individual to mete out such harsh punishment.
“You are undoubtedly correct,’’ Lord Trilby said in a quiet voice. He and the viscount clashed stares for a long tense moment.
Realizing that a crisis was in the making, Mr. Underwood snapped sharply, “Sinjin, leave off! Cool heads are required, do you not see?”
Still the viscount regarded the Earl of Walmesley with hard glittering eyes, then slowly nodded. But he threw out a last barb. “I have always thought you too careless of your friendship with Lady Caroline. Someone should have married her years ago and with a cuff to the head sent you to perdition. She is too fine a lady to be taken for granted by a gentleman of your deliberately careless stamp.”
The Earl of Walmesley’s face reflected his surprise at the unexpected direction of attack. The viscount’s charge was unpleasant to hear, astonishingly so, and in response he felt a surge of ferocious anger. “Have you yourself in mind to do the thing, Weemswood? For I shall tell you to your face that I would not willingly stand by whilst one of your rack-and-ruin character made free with Lady Caroline’s affections.”
The viscount threw himself out of his chair to his feet, a curse snarling from between his lips.
Gayle Buck Page 17