Patricia Wynn

by Lord Tom

  Mr. Sodporth looked up from his food at this statement, as if it came to him as a surprise, but he nodded and smiled dumbly when Mr. Petworthy gave him a shriveling look.

  “But I have to admit,” Mr. Petworthy said to Susan with the appearance of one mildly aggrieved, “that it comes as rather a shock to a man of such strong family devotion as myself, to find that his only uncle—an uncle moreover with no other living descendants—that said uncle arranged his affairs in such an extraordinary fashion. Is the claim of charity,” he continued, “charity to mere animals, mind you, greater than the attachment of blood between generations? It leaves one with great questions and doubts—doubts that perhaps all was not quite well with his mind when he made his dispositions. Perhaps Mr. Sodporth would feel able to advance a theory to enlighten us on this matter.”

  Mr. Sodporth, thus called upon in the middle of a mouthful of boiled potatoes, gasped in surprise and immediately choked upon his food. Lady Mewhinny made a casual sign to an elderly footman, who approached the visitor and clapped him soundly on the back. The others went on with their conversation politely, as though the disturbance had not occurred.

  “I sincerely doubt, Augustus,” Lady Mewhinny said calmly, “that your concern for my monkeys has undergone an improvement. I should be happy to learn that you had experienced a change of heart, for I would be glad to have your assistance. As I have told you before, it astonishes me how anyone with a name such as yours can have so little regard for our more unfortunate species.” She gave a little chuckle at her own joke and looked to Susan for her reaction.

  The curious inappropriateness of Mr. Petworthy’s name had already occurred to Susan, so she was able to smile at her hostess without offending the gentleman next to her with a laugh. Mr. Petworthy had clearly been subjected to this joke before, for he made no attempt at polite laughter. Instead, he applied himself to his food for the first time that evening, and the remainder of the meal passed in relative silence.

  After dinner, however, he was sufficiently recovered to corner her ladyship as she was rising from the table, so Susan had to move into the parlour without her companion. Lady Mewhinny promised to join her shortly, but the time stretched out slowly, so Susan decided to go up to her room to add some finishing touches to her packing. When she came back down and started to enter the parlour, she became aware of gentlemen’s voices on the other side of the door. Not wishing to enter the room unless she was certain of Lady Mewhinny’s protective presence, she waited and listened with the object of detecting her voice.

  But in a moment it became quite clear that her ladyship could not possibly be present. While Susan listened in increasing distress, Mr. Petworthy expressed his loathing for his aunt in the most shockingly disrespectful terms.

  “The old witch!” came his voice from the parlour. “Petworthy, indeed! I shall see to it that those miserable apes are tossed out as soon as she is gone. You were no help to me tonight, Alfred. You and your appetite. You might strive to look as though you occasionally experienced a decent meal, instead of slobbering over every dish that comes round. I am certain that I, at least, have fed you often enough.”

  “I was only being polite, Augustus. You never said I was not to enjoy my food. I am quite prepared to be of service when the time comes,” Mr. Sodporth responded in an injured tone.

  “Well, never mind that. It’s a good thing that Frenchwoman plans to leave in the morning. It would be harder for us to do what we must if she were around. And I cannot hold off my creditors any longer. Once she is gone we can get to work in earnest.”

  “The old lady did not fall for your investment scheme?” his accomplice asked.

  “No,” Mr. Petworthy answered shortly. “She’s got a solicitor who handles all her affairs. Not a day under eighty, I imagine, but she always prefers his judgement to mine. There’s absolutely no accounting for it,” he added with a peculiar ingenuousness.

  Susan wanted to listen more to see if she could discover what their intentions were, but the two men made noises as if they might leave the parlour, so she fled quickly up the stairs and went straight to her room.

  Chapter Eight

  As soon as she was safely inside her bedchamber, Susan collapsed against the closed door in horror. Mr. Petworthy’s intentions with respect to his aunt were evil ones, she was certain. No lighter interpretation could possibly be made of his comments. He was desperate for funds, and he and the doctor had come down into Sussex with an idea for disposing somehow of poor Kitty! She must do something fast, but yet she had no information on which to act.

  What was it he had said? Oh, yes, she recalled: he was happy that she should be leaving in the morning for that would make his task easier. Then I must not leave, Susan thought anxiously. How could she leave, when Lady Mewhinny needed her so desperately? She, of course, would be unaware of her nephew’s evil intent, and perhaps would not even believe it if Susan were to tell her.

  Then Tom and I must handle it, Susan decided. Yet how were they to make an excuse to stay on, when she had clearly said they would leave on the morrow? She must get a message to Tom so that he could make up an excuse—a broken carriage wheel or some such thing. He would know what to do.

  It was then that it occurred to her she must not assume Lord Harleston would be game to stay on at her bidding. “Oh, I’ve already involved you in enough of my nonsense,” she said miserably, as though he were there in the room with her. “I must not drag you into this.” There was nothing for it but to explain the situation to Lord Harleston and ask him to leave. She would have to stay on with Lady Mewhinny alone. Knowing him as she now did, she was certain he would put up a fuss, but she must convince him somehow. The clandestine nature of their friendship posed its own dangers, chiefly to her heart. Had she not just started planning his involvement again? It seemed so easy to forget who he really was and why they were there. He was much too reliable, too comforting and too strong. If he continued to help her, she would not be able to stop her feelings for him from developing. So he must—he absolutely must go this time.

  It was a painful decision, but once having made it, Susan did not hesitate for an instant. She would have to be certain of the message getting to him, she realized, for there was no time for mistakes. Hastily taking a pen and some paper from the elaborately gilded escritoire in her chamber, she wrote a careful message in French so that none of the servants would be able to read it.

  “Come to my room at midnight,” she wrote. She started to add, “I must speak to you urgently,” but was not certain of some of the French words. So after struggling over it for what seemed a considerable waste of time, she decided a person as intelligent as Lord Harleston would certainly know she had urgent need of him, and the phrase would not be necessary. Then, gritting her teeth with determination, she rang the bell for Peg.

  The maid took a considerable time in coming. Susan supposed that one of the footmen must have had to track the wayward girl down wherever she had been loitering. As soon as Peg entered the room, however, she began talking about the “Lunnon” gentleman who had come that evening. Brushing her comments aside with impatience, Susan gave her the folded note and demanded her attention. “Peg, you must take zis note to ze stables for me. It is for Tom. I want him to bring ze carriage around slightly later in ze morning zan we ’ad agreed. But do not dally now,” she said as the girl’s eyes lit up annoyingly. “I will not ’ave ’im distracted from ’is work.”

  “Yes, mum,” Peg said, for once not resenting an order. “I’ll just ’op on down this minute. ’Is ’igh and mighty ’ighness from Lunnon might like to know I’ve been out for a bit in the stables. It won’t do ’im no ’arm to wonder now, will it?” She seemed to be thinking aloud without regard for Susan, and indeed, Susan’s thoughts were too busily occupied to admit of Peg’s nonsense. She ignored the girl and merely felt thankful that the one certainty about her was her eagerness to see Tom.

  There is no risk that he will not get the message, she thought bitter
ly, as Peg skipped out of the room. Now I shall only have to worry about whether he can rid himself of her before midnight.

  Susan took a book and tried to keep herself awake reading until Tom could find his way to her room. She did not worry whether he would be able to enter, for Lady Mewhinny kept the outer door near the stable unlocked until well past midnight. Her servants were not restricted in their movements as they were in some large manors, and Susan had been surprised to see Vigor in unexpected corners of the house.

  The one worry that did occupy her mind was that Tom might misinterpret her message. When the idea first occurred to her, she dismissed it as nonsense. Then she recalled Tom’s look as he had bade her goodbye in the stables. Would he think she had invited him in with some impropriety in mind? The thought was most disturbing and set her heart to beating queerly. It took the exercise of all her good sense to compose her mind. But she told herself firmly that once his lordship had been apprised of the situation—and she would advise him instantly upon his entering—he would understand the need for her action. She hoped she could count on his chivalry not to take too great a notice of her lack of propriety.

  But Susan’s book did not manage to capture her interest, for her thoughts were in too lively a whirl to settle down to reading. Long before the appointed hour, she had begun to pace the floor, worrying that Tom might not find his way to the correct room. She had not thought to give him proper instructions, and the idea of his being found in the upper corridors without an excuse was enough to drive her to distraction. And the notion that he might be expecting a seduction continued to plague her.

  At twenty minutes before the hour, she heard a light knock at her door and ran to open it wide, letting out a gasp at the sight which greeted her eyes.

  “Lady Mewhinny!” she cried, seeing her tiny hostess in the doorway. “What are you doing here?” Fortunately, this peculiar greeting did nothing to put off her ladyship, who looked Susan over with similar surprise and concern.

  “Why, Susan!” she said, uttering little sounds of disapproval and stepping into the room. “You are not even dressed for bed. Is anything the matter, dear?”

  Susan looked down at her own dress as if unaware of what she was wearing. “Non, noz’ing, Kitty,” she said, thinking quickly. “Really noz’ing. I was just putting ze final touches to my packing and I quite forgot ze hour. It is so ’ard to settle down ze night before a journey. Do you not agree?”

  Lady Mewhinny nodded wisely in agreement. “Of course, dear. I see how it must be. Your mind is quite taken up with all the little details and is so afraid of forgetting something. But you mustn’t worry. If I find you have forgotten anything, I will send it on after you. You must only leave me your address.”

  “S’ank you,” Susan said, wondering what address she could leave and listening at the same time for Lord Harleston. She raised her voice and spoke more clearly in case he should already be coming down the corridor. “But what are you doing up at zis hour, Kitty? Is anys’ing ze matter?”

  “Oh, no, dear,” Lady Mewhinny said kindly. “I am never asleep this early in the evening. I thought I might just come along and see if your candle was still lit, for I did not have a proper chance to say goodbye to you before. It has been such a treat for me having you here. You are such a delightful girl.”

  Susan’s heart experienced a sharp pang upon hearing these kind words, but she reminded herself that she would not really be going and that Lord Harleston was at this moment making his way to her room.

  “Zat was so good of you, Kitty,” she said feigning a yawn. “I, too, shall be sorry to leave. I’m so glad you managed to catch me, for I was just about to put out ze light.”

  Lady Mewhinny smiled and looked about the room. The bed was still buried in its deep, down coverlets. She turned back to Susan with an enquiring look. “But where are your nightclothes, dear?”

  Susan flushed, looking about her as if they had suddenly been mislaid, and stammered a reply, “I—I must ’ave packed zem wiz’out s’inking. But no matter. I shall just ’ave to dig zem out again.” She hoped that would satisfy her hostess and moved quickly towards the door to show her out, but Lady Mewhinny remained firmly rooted to the floor.

  “Oh, no, you mustn’t do that, Susan. Why, I am certain to have something you could wear right here in one of these chests.” And to Susan’s dismay, she started rummaging in one of the huge chests at the foot of the bed, asking her to hold the top while she searched nearly to the bottom. At last she emerged, pulling out a flimsy silk confection in white with deep pink roses embroidered upon it. “There,” she said with satisfaction. “That ought to suit you to perfection. It had a matching pink dressing gown, as I recall. Sir William got it for me in Paris.” She dove back in the chest and recovered the missing item with a cheerful, “Aha!”

  Susan looked up at the rococo clock beside the bed and discovered that it was almost midnight. In a panic, she nearly snatched the garments from Lady Mewhinny’s hands, scarcely taking time to thank her. “Zose will do admirably, Kitty, s’ank you. But I must not keep you from your bed. I promise we shall ’ave time to say our goodbyes in ze morning.”

  Lady Mewhinny consented to move towards the door, but she noticed Susan’s hurry and attributed it to nervousness. Turning on the doorstep she said, “I will bid you goodnight, my dear, but I do not think you will be able to sleep without something to soothe your nerves. I will send Simmons up to help you. She has a wonderfully comforting way about her.” And before Susan could open her mouth to protest, Lady Mewhinny was halfway down the hall.

  Susan, now in anguish, watched her hostess step briskly away. She looked both up and down the corridor, hoping to warn Lord Harleston before he should be seen, but as yet, there was no sign of him. Her stomach churning, she glanced down at the flimsy garments in her hands and buried her face in them with a groan. A delicate aroma of lavender filled her nostrils as the cool silk touched her cheeks. She wanted nothing more than to put them on and abandon herself to luxury, but the fear of Lord Harleston’s coming at just the wrong moment—or, worse, of not coming at all—jerked her back to reality.

  She kept her vigil until a shuffling sound indicated the approach of Mrs. Simmons. Simmons was Lady Mewhinny’s dresser, whom Susan had seen on only one occasion. Aside from Vigor and Lady Mewhinny, she was the oldest person on the estate, and Susan had little confidence in her ability to finish anything in short order.

  But surprisingly, within minutes of her coming, Susan found herself seated in front of the mirror, fully robed in the silky dressing gown with a brush being drawn through her hair.

  “It’s a pleasure to dress you, miss,” Simmons said, according her no more status than did Peg. “It’s been a long time since I had the pleasure of dressing a pretty lady like yourself. Lady Mewhinny, bless her, is beginning to get on in years.” She shook her head a little sadly and then reapplied herself to her work.

  “S’ank you, Simmons,” Susan said, and meant it. It was impossible not to be a little seduced by the luxury of having her hair combed for her. Not once had she been tempted to request the service from Peg. “Lady Mewhinny was right. You do have a sooz’ing touch.” She cut her off reluctantly with a sigh. “But I must not keep you from your bed. It is quite late and you shouldn’t have to stay up on my account.” It seemed to her that she had said the same words repeatedly.

  “It’s no bother, miss,” insisted Simmons. “I’ve already seen to her ladyship’s toilet, so I can retire as soon as I’ve finished here. It’s done me good to see these garments put to such good use. I’ve been keeping them packed in lavender, you see, and they’re just as good as new.” Then she added with a sigh, “It’s too bad your poor late husband could not see you dressed the way you are.”

  Susan swallowed in renewed panic. The clock beside her bed showed after twelve and Lord Harleston would be coming soon. She must get out of these clothes before he came.

  Jumping to her feet, she thanked Mrs. Simmons, trying to so
und as relaxed and ready for bed as she could. Fortunately, Lady Mewhinny’s servant was easier to get rid of than her mistress, and Susan soon watched her shuffle down the hall.

  Quickly Susan shut the door behind her and started to undress again, but before she could do more than remove her wrapper, there came another tap upon the door. She froze. In a moment, the tap came louder.

  “Who is it?” she called in a faint voice, struggling to put back on her dressing gown.

  “It’s Tom!”

  Susan cringed at the sound of his voice, which seemed loud enough to wake the whole household. Hurrying to prevent him from calling out again, she unlatched the bolt, opened the door and drew him quickly into the room.

  He started to speak in a humorous tone of voice. “Were you, perhaps, expecting someone else...?” Then he stopped, as though he had been struck speechless by the sight of her.

  Susan felt herself colour to the roots of her hair. His lordship was standing as if paralyzed. His eyes combed her from head to toe, taking in the luxuriant flow of her long, black hair as well as the obvious curves beneath their flimsy covering. He had not yet noticed the seductive opulence of their surroundings. He had carried his boots to move noiselessly in stockinged feet, but had dropped them after one look at her. They lay disregarded on the floor.

  “This is not what it seems, my lord,” Susan began hastily, then chided herself for putting thoughts into his head which might not already have been there. “I had to see you most urgently, but then Lady Mewhinny came and insisted upon sending her dresser...” She faltered. Lord Harleston’s expression did not alter; he seemed not to have heard a word she had said. You might make this simpler for me, Susan thought.