The Gray Chamber

by Grace Hitchcock

  Edyth felt a rush of heat to her cheeks, and she snatched the book out of his hands, snapping it shut. “I told you not to look, Raoul!”

  “You should have made me promise beforehand, Foster.” He snorted. “Besides, I thought you were being modest, but it seems that someone finds me quite the model.” He ran his fingers through his hair, allowing it to cascade down onto his shoulders and, pursing his lips, attempted another favored brooding pose Edyth had sketched.

  “Of course you are. Your exercise keeps you in the peak physical condition that most artists find—” Edyth dropped her ramblings with a grunt when his smile kept growing. She was always revealing too much of herself to Bane, but this was the one thing she had managed to keep hidden from him for years, and she would not allow her infatuation with him to become known now and ruin whatever ground she had managed to capture.

  “If you ever need me to pose in my fencing costume, just let me know.” He sent her a brazen wink.

  She swatted his arm with her reticule. “You best watch yourself, lest I take you up on your offer and start a whole new craze of sketching fencing masters. The artists will never leave you or your club alone, and then you will be sorry for disregarding my conditions for allowing you to see my work.” She tugged his arm, pulling him down the hall, weaving around groups perusing the famous pieces by the old masters. “Now, we don’t have much time, and as this was your gift to me, I suggest you cease your teasing and enjoy the art for this last half hour before we must head back.” She stepped away from him and at once felt the precious sketchbook slide from the crook of her arm as Bane darted away, earning scowls from passersby. “Raoul Banebridge, you stop that right now,” she hissed.

  He stepped into a small vacant corridor and flipped it open again, but this time closer to the back. “Another sketch of me? Come now, Edyth, am I your study for the entirety of this book?” He used his thumb to riffle through the pages.

  She had forgotten that particular portrait was there. He was so often in her thoughts that she must have absentmindedly sketched him after she had sworn she would not do so again for the rest of the year. She could not help it that Bane was the perfect model, with such a gorgeous nose begging to be sketched. Edyth crossed her arms, thinking it best for her if he had his teasing out all at once and then hopefully never spoke of it again. “Go ahead. I can see plainly that you are aching to ask me your questions.”

  He scanned the pages again, viewing her other work more closely before closing the book and handing it back to her. “Edyth.” His voice adopted a tone she had not heard before. “How often do you sketch me?”

  “I don’t think that is a question you should be asking a lady,” she murmured, pretending to study the painting in front of them of a cottage in a wood by an unknown artist.

  He grasped her elbow and turned her to him. “But I am not asking any lady. I am asking you, Edyth Foster, my good friend.”

  She dipped her head, feeling as if she were about to deliver the worst confession of her life. Could she lie? Was that permissible in such dire circumstances? She glanced at her watch pin. “Oh, would you look at the time?”

  “Edyth?”

  She lifted her gaze to meet his and forced the shameful word out. “Often.”

  “Good, because now there is a chance you might say yes to my next question, and I would like it very much if you would say yes.” A grin played at the corner of his mouth, that delightful dimple materializing in his left cheek.

  She regarded him, wary. “And what would that be? I already told you that, no, I cannot get an ice sculpture of two swords crossing in time for the celebration tonight. You should have requested it weeks ago, but—”

  Bane lifted his finger to her lips, the pressure halting her words, and slipped his other hand from her elbow to her fingers. “I was hoping that maybe I could escort you to the party?”

  Lavinia had instructed her to be coy and not to accept an invitation right away if he asked … but Lavinia had not been waiting for this invitation for as long as Edyth had. Her lips parted to say she would think about it, but she couldn’t keep her smiles at bay, nor her heart. “I would like that very much.”

  “You would? Really?” His seeming insecurity took her by surprise. Bane was never uncertain, not on the piste, not anywhere.

  She squeezed his hand, reveling in the closeness of him. “Really.”

  His grin overtook his features as he rubbed his thumb over her hand. “And what about the following day? May I escort you on your ride through Central Park, and perhaps we can go boating afterward?”

  Her eyes flitted to his lips and back to him. “Are you asking as a friend?” she whispered before she could take back the words.

  He stroked a loose curl from her face. “As only the dearest sort of friend … as my Miss Foster, if you will allow it?”

  “Then I accept,” she whispered and, with a little twirl, stepped out of arm’s reach and into the back of a gentleman. “Oh! I am so sorry—Doctor Hawkins? What on earth are you doing here?” She bit her lip, worried that he might have overheard her conversation with Bane.

  He blinked his focus from the painting before him, from behind a pair of wire-rimmed spectacles that she had never seen him wear, and gave her a short bow. “It is my day off, so I thought I’d come to the museum for the latest exhibit.”

  “Ah, lovely. Will you be stopping by later today to see Miss Birch?” she asked as Bane greeted him with a nod that Doctor Hawkins returned.

  “Ah, no. I stopped by and spoke with Boris this morning, and he said Miss Birch had departed on a spontaneous trip to the Manhattan Beach Hotel with a friend for the week’s end,” he replied.

  “Oh? I wasn’t aware.”

  “Which, I suppose is the nature of spontaneity,” he replied, swinging his walking cane as if ready to take his leave of them.

  “Boris, is it? I didn’t know you were on such good terms with Mr. Foster. That must be nice for your pursuit of Miss Birch.” Bane grinned at him.

  Doctor Hawkins’s cheeks dipped in color and he sputtered, “I, uh, I suppose.”

  Bane laughed and clapped him on the shoulder, giving him a friendly shake and sending the spectacles sliding down the bridge of the doctor’s pointed nose. “I’m only teasing you, good fellow. But truly, if you have a position of friendship with Mr. Foster, you had best keep it. The man can become extremely ill-disposed should he set his mind against you.”

  The doctor looked to Edyth and back to Bane and gave a short, uncomfortable cough. “Good to know. Well, I best be on my way. Enjoy your afternoon. I shall see you tonight.” He tipped his hat.

  “At the fencing club party?” Edyth asked, her voice rising in surprise, not recalling ever having sent him an invitation.

  “Oh dear. You were not aware that your uncle invited me.” He dabbed at his forehead with the sleeve of his jacket.

  “I did not even know he was planning on attending, but any invitation given by my uncle will be honored,” she said with a smile of reassurance, elbowing Bane. “Isn’t that right?”

  “Y–yes, of course. You are most welcome, and we are looking forward to seeing you, sir,” Bane replied as Doctor Hawkins bowed and vanished around the corner without another word.

  “Odd fellow,” Bane said, taking Edyth’s hand and threading it through his arm, guiding her into the main hall toward the exit.

  “Not really. Uncle sometimes doesn’t follow the rules of society.” Edyth paused under the metal arches supporting the sloped glass roof and readjusted her chapeau before they stepped outside into the fresh air.

  “Ah, I wondered where you got your lack of rule following from,” he teased and tugged at the single curl that was left intentionally out of her intricate coiffure … but strangely enough, it felt more like a caress than a pull.

  She gasped, feigning annoyance, and stepped away from him. “And for that, Mr. Banebridge, you owe me something sweet. I do believe there is a pie shop nearby.”

  “Fa
ir enough.” Bane laughed as he shook his head. “You know, I’ve always admired your ability to devour pie.”

  She suppressed a giggle and pulled him down the path to the pie shop. “Well, thank goodness someone appreciates my talent.”

  Chapter Five

  I would kiss you, had I the courage.

  ~ Édouard Manet

  Bane’s breath caught as Edyth descended the stairs in a crimson gown that caressed her slender form. Her raven hair, arranged in an elaborate, braided coiffure, was framed with a row of crimson roses that created the effect of her wearing a crown. The single curl trailing down her shoulder touched the ruby pin fastened to a neckline that dipped far lower than he had ever seen her wear before. He averted his eyes as she lifted her billowing skirts to descend unhindered, revealing dainty satin slippers. The transformation of his friend caught him off guard once again. “You look …” He gestured to her ensemble and settled with, “lovely.”

  She dipped her head in thanks, running her hands down the front of her gown. “Lavinia had a dressmaker design this especially for tonight. I hope you like the color.”

  His gaze flowed over the short sleeves cuffing her flawless shoulders as he rested her gold cloak upon them. “I would say keep having her design your gowns, but I fear I will not be able to leave your side ever again lest every unattached gentleman within a hundred miles should attempt to steal your heart.” He held out his arm, her once familiar touch causing his pulse to pound in his ears.

  “I don’t wish to sound conceited, but I think my odd dresses of the past have acted as a deterrent to my fortune’s lure. And now that the deterrence is gone …”

  “They will be relentless tonight, despite your best efforts in the past to evade matrimony,” he finished.

  “Then you best be en garde to protect me.” She sent him a tentative smile, her sweet lips calling to him.

  Always. “Pret,” he replied with a bow.

  With a laugh, Edyth picked up a wrapped box with a gold bow atop it from the foyer table and bid the butler good night before they slipped out the door, the cool night air whipping through her curls. Bane was glad that he thought to borrow his family’s closed carriage, for though the drive would be short, he did not want Edyth’s coiffure to be ruined due to lack of foresight on his part. He took the box and deposited it onto the carriage seat before offering her his hand.

  “This is an important night for you and your fencing club with your introducing a private fencing room for women. I’m hopeful that once the women get used to the private sessions, they will want to join the fencing classes in the main hall though,” she said as she mounted the step into the carriage.

  “Yes.” Why was it so hard for him to come up with intelligent responses? He shook his head free from the enchanting fog that had descended upon him. “I mean, I hope they are agreeable to the idea of joining the club.” He peeked out the window at the gaslights flickering in the night as Edyth filled the silence on her own, shifting the mysterious box on her lap.

  “So, are you going to tell me what’s in there?”

  She smoothed her fingers over the jade paper wrapping. “It’s for you, actually.”

  “Me? Why?”

  Her eyes sparked with excitement, raising his curiosity. “I ordered it weeks ago, and it came just in time. It’s a gift to celebrate a successful business.”

  “How kind of you.” He moved to take it, but she hugged it to her knees.

  “It’s for you to open after the party and not a moment before.” Edyth gasped, grabbed his forearm, and pointed up at the windows of the fencing club where the glowing light poured out onto the street. “Oh! I knew it was going to be dazzling. Aren’t you glad that you followed my instructions and placed a candelabra in every window and corner of the hall? Anyone passing tonight will take notice.”

  “You are a visionary.” Bane grinned as he hopped out of the carriage and lifted his hands to her waist, happy for any excuse to be close to her. Judging by her smile, she felt the same way about him.

  Edyth wrapped her hands around his arm and allowed him to guide her up the steps into the great hall of the fencing area, which, save for one piste in the back for the exposition later, had been transformed into a candlelit ballroom. Queen Anne chairs lined the walls, borrowed from the Banebridge family estate, and long tables were bedecked with appetizers, desserts, and beverages, served by Edyth’s footmen. He nodded to his elder brother Bertram and Bertram’s fiancée and his eldest brother Tom and his wife, Sylvia. Bane was grateful that all five of his brothers were happily partnered so that the fencing club had more women than the sprinkling of spouses who arrived on the arms of their husbands, most likely against their wills, judging from the expressions on their faces.

  “Why haven’t the musicians started?” Edyth muttered under her breath, shaking her head. “If you will excuse me, I need to see to this.” Her heeled slippers clicked on the hardwood floors as she rustled over to the string quartet, gesturing toward the door where the guests were arriving. Nodding furiously, the head violinist tapped his bow, nodded to the group, and began playing.

  In between greeting his guests, Bane watched his mother and father approach Edyth and embrace her as if she were their daughter. She would fit into his family perfectly if she chose him. Witnessing the gathering of the unattached gentlemen in attendance around her, he ached to be near her instead of encouraging his students to continue their attendance and invite their friends. He couldn’t keep from glancing over at Edyth every few minutes. He knew now that they had seen Edyth in this gown, the single men of the club would never allow her to step into the fencing hall without plying her with requests for calling. He needed to ask Edyth to allow him to be her only beau, and the sooner the better.

  “It seems your student has had quite the transformation since her delightful cousin came to the city,” Jasper Wentworth murmured, pausing at Bane’s elbow to throw back his punch. Bane caught the lingering scent on the man’s breath and knew Jasper had taken the liberty to add something to his drink. The uncouth man licked his lips, his eyes devouring Edyth like a raspberry tart.

  Bane clenched his fists at the man’s leering but attempted to keep a civil tone. “It’s a party. What did you expect her to wear? Her fencing costume?”

  “Come, man. You’ve seen the outlandish gowns she has worn in the past. It’s her pretty cousin’s doing.” Jasper shook his head and snatched another glass from a passing footman, depositing his empty cup on the silver tray. “If I wasn’t already practically engaged to an heiress, I might be tempted to make an offer despite her grating personality.”

  “And by grating, you are referring to how she bests you weekly?” Bane retorted.

  Jasper gave a short laugh, rolling his eyes. “I am a gentleman. I allow her to win.”

  Hardly. Piqued, Bane sank his teeth into his tart to hide his disgust with the man. Edyth took that moment to find him in the crowd, her smile faltering at his expression.

  “Bane, why are you scowling? Go enjoy yourself. This is your night. I’m here to help with whatever you need,” she said, laying her hand on his arm.

  “I need to see to you,” he replied, his thoughts flicking to the scoundrel.

  She squeezed his arm and said in a low voice, “You need to mingle with your guests and secure the next decade of your fencing club’s success. Do not worry about attending to me. I can look after myself for one more night.”

  With a wary glance to Jasper, he patted her hand and left her to join his most influential patron and his wife and three young sons.

  “What if he needs for you to look after me?” Jasper lifted a brow at Edyth, openly gawking at her neckline as he lifted his drink in salute.

  Edyth’s neck flamed, and she glared at Jasper and stepped forward, smelling the liquor on his breath. “For shame, sir. How dare you address a lady so?”

  “Please. We all know, Edyth, that you are one of the boys. No need to pretend you don’t hear worse, but it is a s
hame that you don’t dress up more often.” He continued to leer at her. “I may have to let you win more often if you continue to wear gowns like this one.”

  She should have never allowed Lavinia to coerce her into showing off what little décolletage she possessed, not when men like Jasper roamed about. “Ball gown or not, I can still best you. So, it would be in your interest to mind your foul tongue before you lose it in a fencing accident.”

  At that, he threw back his head and laughed, making an unforgivable comment. Without blinking, she yanked off her glove and slapped him, leaving red, angry marks across his cheek. Jasper held his cheek, and the guests murmured so loudly that the musicians quieted.

  Bane appeared at her side. “Mr. Wentworth, it is time for you to take your leave,” he growled, stepping in front of her.

  “You are a coward, Edyth Foster, to strike me and then hide behind the fencing master. You always rave about wishing to be treated as an equal, but I guess now we know the truth, don’t we?”

  Bane clenched his fists. “Careful, Wentworth.”

  Jasper dropped his hand and turned to the crowd, arms spread. “Ladies and gentlemen! Tonight, as you know, there is a scheduled demonstration of this fine fencing academy. What better way to display its accomplishments than with Bane’s top students? Who would like to see me duel Miss Foster?”

  The guests murmured of the impropriety, all scowling in disapproval.

  “Wentworth, you are making a scene.” Bane gripped him by the arm. “If you wish to duel someone, attempt to best me.” He pulled off his coat and handed it to the footman, rolling up his sleeves. “Ladies and gentlemen, it seems the exposition is going to be happening prematurely. Please, gather at a safe distance to watch me best Mr. Wentworth.”

  With Bane’s back turned, Wentworth leaned over and ran his finger along Edyth’s bare shoulder. “Coward.”

  She jerked away from his grasp, seething, and crossed the room. She bypassed the blunted foils and yanked two rapiers free from their holds on the wall and tossed one to Jasper. His clumsy fingers nearly missed the handle.