“Well, no, I would not call Caroline ‘delicate.’ Actually, now that I think of it, none of the ladies of my acquaintance could be called ‘delicate.’ It must be just a figure of speech. What is everyone so upset about?”
“I’m sure I shouldn’t tell you,” Harry began, but he didn’t sound sure.
“Well, tell me and then we’ll decide whether you should have told me or not.” Normally Julian would consider it caddish to pressure a mere child like this, but last night had been infuriating and baffling and he damned well felt like getting to the bottom of it all.
“Well...” Harry began again, then tapered off.
“Yes?”
“Caroline says Elspeth made a fool of herself last night and that the entire ton is laughing at her. She made my sister cry. And why do we have to call all these English society people ‘ton’ anyway? Why can’t we just speak English?”
“Well, as to the French, Harry, I suppose that all has to do with 1066 and the Norman Conquest and all that, but I must say I was at the same ball last night, and I didn’t hear a single soul laughing about your sister.”
“Well, of course not. Elspeth’s not funny. She’s a good egg, really, but she’s rather a bore for all that. Reads all the time. Nothing to laugh at there.”
“Why does Caroline think people are laughing at your sister?” Julian asked. Interrogating a nine-year-old was difficult to say the least.
“Don’t know,” came Harry’s answer, rather muffled. He wouldn’t look at Julian.
“I think you do, Harry. Tell me, were you listening at doors or did they have these conversations in front of you?”
“Well….”
“At doors, then. So be it. Naturally, a gentleman does not do such a thing except when it is absolutely necessary, and this does sound like one of those times.” He watched while Harry worked that out and then brightened considerably. “What did you hear?”
“Well, I didn’t understand it really. I couldn’t hear very well. But Caroline screamed the place down about Elspeth running around after some man.”
“I did not see your sister running around after any man at all, Harry. Did she say who the gentleman was?”
“Just a man named Julian. Do you know anyone named Julian, Mr. Thorpe?”
He took a deep breath, shocked at the flare of anger that shot through him. “Well, I suppose she must mean me, Harry. I’m the only Julian in our set, at least here in Bath. Unless, of course, they mean old Julian Fredricks. I expect they can’t mean him, though. He’s well into his eighties and he doesn’t run at all. No need running after him all night.” It was a small joke and treated accordingly. Harry looked chagrined. “See here, Harry. I can promise you your sister most decidedly did not run around after me at all, not even a little. And no one else thinks so, either. I don’t know what this is all about, but I’ll be happy to straighten it out. When will your sister be ready for the picnic?”
“Oh, she isn’t to go on the picnic, sir. Aunt Bettina told her she couldn’t stir from the house today at all. Caroline will go, though.”
“I see.” And he did. A nasty little bit of jealousy. Caroline couldn’t stand to share the attention, not with anyone. “How soon do you suppose Caroline will be ready to leave?”
“Oh, hours yet. She’s running around upstairs in her dressing gown, shrieking about how she hates all her dresses. Actually, I think they look awful, too. All that fuss and stuff. Elspeth’s dresses are much better. She doesn’t look like a ninny.”
The boy was shaping up at that. “Harry, I need to talk to your sister, but you say she’s been crying all morning?”
“All morning. She wouldn’t even let me in her room.”
“Where is your Aunt Bettina?”
“In her room, lying down. She told us to be very quiet and leave her be.”
“All right. I have a favor to ask of you. Go to your sister’s room, very quietly. Tell her you really, really need her to get you a book from the library. Say, uh, Homer’s Odyssey. Tell her you need to settle a score with Roderick.”
“What score? She’s bound to ask.”
Elspeth would ask, too. Even distraught, her curiosity would get the better of her. “Uh, say Roderick is arguing about Scylla and Charybdis. About which is the whirlpool and which is the rock.”
“Oh, she’ll know the answer to that. She knows all that stuff without a book.”
“Yes, but Roderick wouldn’t believe it unless you showed it to him, would he?”
“That’s true. He won’t even believe it sometimes when you do show it to him.”
“I’m not surprised. Still, you get her down to the library, then make yourself scarce.”
“I say, I’ll be lying, won’t I? Everyone always gets into such a pother when I lie the least little bit.”
Ah, children were taught to be such absolutists. “Well, yes, you’ll be lying, and this is, again, one of those things where it’s hardly ever right, except only under very rare circumstances, such as these. Your sister has been upset unfairly, and I mean to set it right.”
“You’ll vouch for me, then? She’ll be awfully annoyed.” Harry sounded dubious about the strength of character of his accomplice. Didn’t want to be left holding the bag, as it were. Julian didn’t much blame him.
“Harry, I’d be an awful coward to put you up to something, then desert you under fire, wouldn’t I?”
“Roderick would.”
“I won’t.”
For a moment they stared at one another. Julian could see Harry working it out in his head. Things were so simple to a child. Things were right or they were wrong. Something was a lie, or it was the truth. When did one learn to shade and color and make excuses, Julian wondered. Still, he couldn’t very well send up his card and ask to see her. He could just imagine the ‘pother’—as Harry would put it—that would cause.
“I’ll do it, sir. I can trust you,” Harry said drawing himself up straighter.
“Good lad. Hurry on now. I’d like to speak with your sister before Caroline is ready to go.”
“Well, not to worry. You’ll have all day, then,” Harry said dryly and took himself off.
Julian waited a moment, then slipped from the drawing room across the hallway to the library, closing the door behind him. He didn’t have too long to wait. He heard the door open quietly, and watched a bedraggled figure creep in. Perhaps ladies moved more quickly when no one waited for them, an odd, ironic little thought.
He did know a moment of guilt. No lady of any social stratum whatsoever appreciated an ambush, particularly if she’d been crying all day. He stood in a corner, away from the light. She hadn’t seen him yet. Of course, she wasn’t expecting anyone to be there. She wore her spectacles and a simple day dress, gray, possibly, although in this light it was difficult to tell. It was a soft color. Caroline wouldn’t be caught at a cockfight in any color so quiet. Pity. It might have lent her some grace.
Elspeth moved to the bookcase nearest her and peered somewhat myopically at the titles, her back to where he stood in the shadows. Her shoulders were slumped and he could feel the misery emanating from her slight form. Surely he ought to make himself known, but he found himself disinclined to move. She would be so upset to find him here. He heard a great sniff and it gave him a pang. He watched as her hand lifted and fell on a book. She pulled it out, thumbed it open, then gave a great sob and let it slip to the floor. Fumbling in a skirt pocket for a handkerchief, she must not have heard him as he crossed over to her.
“Elspeth,” he said softly, just behind her.
She gave a squeak and jumped, turning quickly. Shock, followed by anger, chased across her face. “Oh, no, not you! How could this day get any worse?” she cried, and buried her face in her handkerchief.
“I suppose I deserve that,” he whispered, stepping closer and reaching for her.
“Not another step,” she said, stepping back so quickly that she bumped up against the shelves. She glared up at him. “Things a
re bad enough without my being caught in flagrante delicto in the library with you! Now they’ll accuse me of conniving an assignation.”
“Please tell me what on earth is going on. What is this all about?” he asked.
“As I am the laughingstock of the ton, I suppose you already know what it’s about,” she said, glaring all the more. “Did you entertain everyone with tales of my pathetic and gauche behavior?”
“Elspeth, I played cards in Lady Dowling’s library until the wee hours. Your name was mentioned only once, by my friend Wesley Ames, who made a flattering remark about your demeanor, with which we all agreed. I was careful not to say more to avert the very gossip Caroline claims to have heard. If you were the laughingstock of the ton, I would have heard it.” She continued to glare, but she looked a bit less mutinous. Emboldened, he went on. “I suspect you have been treated unkindly by your cousin. Tell me what she said to you.”
Elspeth blew her nose. Her eyes were all puffy and red-rimmed, large as saucers behind the rims of her spectacles. Beautiful, luminous green saucers. He longed to take her in his arms, but he rather feared getting brained with a book should he make the attempt.
“She said that after I left, my name was on everyone’s lips, that I had made an ass of myself chasing after you, and that she could barely hold her head up the rest of the evening. So help me, I don’t understand how anything that I did could be so interpreted, but if this is what passes for fun among the ‘Quality,’ then I want no part of it.”
“I cannot defend the ton on the subject of malicious gossip, Elspeth. God knows they are guilty of much worse on any given day. But this time, I think not. It may be ungentlemanly of me to say it, but I think your cousin is just plain jealous of you.”
“Jealous of me?” Elspeth asked, incredulity plain in her tone. “What on earth would she find to be jealous of? She is beautiful; I am plain. She is witty; I am dull. She has money; I am poor. I cannot believe it.”
“Were you any other young lady in Bath, I would assume you were fishing rather desperately for compliments. But I believe we have established to my satisfaction that you do not stoop to such. As it is, I think you have no idea of the truth.” He smiled into her great, green eyes.
“Please don’t bother with idle flattery, sir,” she said with a snuffle. “I have explained to you that I do not require it.”
“You are very beautiful,” he said softly. She refused to meet his eye. “You have more wit in your hat that Caroline can muster in any given year.” She still would not look at him. “Money doesn’t matter,” he finished, rather lamely, he thought.
Now she gave him a look that could blister the paint off the walls.
“I mean it does not matter to me.” He stepped forward slowly. She shrank back, but there was no place for her to go. She gazed up at him, eyes impossibly large, impossibly beautiful. He placed his hands on the bookshelf, one to either side of her face. He lowered his head to hers, slowly, slowly. As gently as a whisper, his lips touched hers. Her lips were soft and delicious. He longed to deepen the kiss, to stir a passion he knew swam just beneath her cool surface. Instead, he lowered his hands and slipped them softly around her shoulders.
“Unhand my sister, sir!” came a shout from behind.
Unfortunately, Julian and Elspeth both started at the same time, butting their heads together.
“Harry, my boy! It is customary to knock before entering a room,” Julian said, wincing, as he turned to face his accuser.
“You—you are a cad, sir!” the boy declared, standing his ground. “I—I challenge you to a duel!” he announced, his young voice ringing with righteous indignation.
“Uh, no, actually, Harry, that’s not quite the right thing to do here,” Julian said, stepping prudently away from Elspeth. He cast a look at her and noted that she was still pressed against the bookshelf, her face flaming scarlet.
“It isn’t?” Harry responded, looking less sure of himself.
“Well, no. You see, a gentleman and a lady might have a few moments together to—that is, it is not inappropriate for a gentleman and a lady to—Elspeth, help me!” Julian cried in sheer desperation.
“Harry, go away and hold your tongue!” Elspeth snapped.
“Shan’t! I will not leave you alone with this—this rake!”
“Oh, hush! Do you want the whole house to hear you?” she hissed, stepping forward menacingly.
“I’m only trying to protect you, Owl Eyes,” he said, pouting a bit and looking hurt.
“Yes, thank you,” she said, obviously trying to sound calmer. “But I do not need protecting from Mr. Thorpe. He is a gentleman, and I trust him to behave like one at all times.” The glare she threw at him suggested quite the opposite. Julian gave her a large, abashed grin. It didn’t seem to help.
“He wasn’t acting like one just now, El. He was kissing you,” Harry muttered darkly.
“Hush, dear. Mr. Thorpe was just—just expressing a—a kindly affection. Don’t speak of it again, please,” she continued, hurriedly, noting her brother’s skeptical look. “Now, what did you want, dear?”
“I came to tell you that Caroline is....”
“Caroline is what?” came a waspish voice from the door. “How dare you come in here and bother Mr. Thorpe? Get out of here! You’re not even allowed in these rooms, you dirty little brat!” Caroline sailed into the room, glaring about, her baleful gaze coming to rest on Elspeth. Harry took two steps to the rear of his sister, but otherwise stood his ground. “And you, cousin,” she continued, her tone dangerous. “I think you must be very thick-witted. I think you have not heard a word I’ve said all morning.”
“Actually, Caroline—and good afternoon to you, too, by the way”—Julian said, stepping forward and making a perfunctory leg in her general direction—“Miss Quinn seems to have heard a good many words, all of them sheer nonsense. She’s been quite upset by something that simply has no truth to it whatsoever. Silly stuff, wouldn’t you agree?”
Caroline said nothing, meeting his eye, her look furious. Finally, she turned away disdainfully. “Well, far be it from me to care if she wishes to make a complete fool of herself,” she said dismissively. “I’m sure that’s what I get for trying to help a penniless distant cousin. I’m ready to go now, Julian,” she announced regally.
“Are you ready, Miss Quinn?” Julian asked pointedly of Elspeth.
Caroline whirled around furiously. “Elspeth is not going. She has—the headache,” Caroline declared triumphantly.
“Well, some fresh air will be quite the thing then,” Julian said amiably. “You’ll need a wrap, Miss Quinn. It’s breezy today.”
“Oh, I don’t think...” Elspeth began.
“Elspeth, remember what I’ve told you,” Caroline said at the same time.
Julian watched them both. Caroline stared imperiously at Elspeth, who stared back in appraisal.
“I’ll just get my wrap, then, Mr. Thorpe,” Elspeth said finally, turning a grim smile on him, and moving toward the door.
“I’m going too. I’ll be the chaperone,” Harry announced with a certain manly pride in his voice.
“You’ll do no such thing, you awful little beast!” Caroline cried, turning to vent her wrath on the boy. “I told you to leave the room, didn’t I?”
“Actually, that’s an excellent idea, Harry. With you along, no one can raise an eyebrow, as your cousin seems to so fear for your sister. Get your cloak, my boy, and meet us in the street. You’ll see my carriage right outside. Wake up my coachman, will you, sir?”
Harry just grinned as he quit the room.
“Julian, I have no idea what you think you’re up to, but I swear....”
“I’m ‘up to’ nothing at all, Caroline,” he interrupted. “If you’d just calm yourself, we could all have a pleasant outing. Now, why don’t you get a cloak and we’ll be off? Half the day is gone already. In the country I’d’ve done a day’s work by now.”
She just stared at him, expression in
credulous, then turned on her heel and left the room. Idly, Julian walked over and picked up the slim book Elspeth had dropped. He scanned the spine. It was Cicero’s Oration Against Catiline.
Chapter Seven
Edgar was not happy. The weight of one hundred pounds felt as if it were evaporating from his pocket, farthing by farthing. The small party strolled among the grape arbors of the new vineyard at Claverton, seemingly happy, unless one got close enough to observe the tense postures and tight lips. Whatever perversity of spirit had possessed Julian to attach himself like a limpet to the country cousin, and, worse, to let the little brother tag along like a wart on the heel of one’s foot? Caroline’s fingers dug like claws into his own arm. The chit was livid, there was no doubt about that, but after one or two vague rebuffs, she made no further effort to cut Julian from the herd, instead trailing along behind, glaring daggers into his back.
Wesley Ames had elected to stay behind with his wife, and was snoring on the blanket before the rest of them had strolled beyond earshot.
“That was quite a delicious repast, wasn’t it, Miss Quinn?” Edgar ventured finally, abhorring silence.
“Indeed,” was her terse reply. Well, the chit could at least make some effort. Why, he had put together the entire outing with her own best interests at heart. Actually, his own interests stood to gain as well, if only Julian had not decided to play such silly games. Was the man trying to make Caroline jealous? If so, he might well be succeeding admirably, if her angry demeanor was any measure. Surely the man could not be seriously interested in the country cousin? The girl was pretty enough, of course, but a man did not choose a wife on looks alone, and on dit had it that the girl was near penniless, of the Lesser Quinns, as Caroline had put it. Nor was the country cousin a particular wit. She seemed oblivious to the latest gossip, and, worse, she and Julian had had the most stultifying conversation over the picnic luncheon, nattering on and on about canals, apparently terribly important to trade in the cousin’s corner of England, although why anyone but merchants themselves would care to know anything at all on the subject was beyond his own comprehension.
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