by Joan Wolf
CHAPTER
twelve
THE FOLLOWING AFTERNOON, I ACCOMPANIED Catherine to one of the Duchess of Faircastle’s musicales. Catherine had been looking prettier than usual lately, with color in her thin cheeks and a sparkle in her eyes, and I thought it was the greatest mercy in the world that she had been taken up by the duchess’s musical set.
Of course, it would have been even better if there had been a young man associated with these musical afternoons at Faircastle House, but from what Catherine kept assuring me, there was not.
Faircastle House was in Berkeley Square, and the duchess had turned the front upstairs drawing rooms into a music room, complete with pianoforte, harpsichord, and harp. Because of Anna’s arrival, I had not attended one of these musicales before, and I looked around me with curiosity as I came in the door.
It was an excessively simple yet elegant room. The walls were painted a pale lemon yellow and the silk draperies that framed the two tall windows were a deeper shade of lemon than the walls. The polished wood floor was bare, and the three instruments were arranged along one of the long walls, with three rows of gilt chairs arranged to face them. There was a white-marble fireplace behind the row of chairs and on the other short wall were two sofas, both of which were upholstered in a watery green silk.
Lord Henry came over to greet us as soon as we came into the room. He was followed more slowly by another man, who as he came closer I saw had the same hazel eyes as Lord Henry but who looked to be a good ten years older.
“Miss Newbury,” Lord Henry said, “may I make you known to my brother, Lord Rotheram.”
I curtsied to the man who, from his title, I knew must be the heir to the Faircastle dukedom. “How do you do, my lord,” I said.
He gave me a courteous smile. Looking at the fine lines that fanned out from the sides of his eyes, I thought suddenly that he had the look of a man who has suffered.
“We are so pleased that you could join us this afternoon, Miss Newbury,” he said. “We have heard so much about you from Lady Catherine.”
I looked at his somber clothes and realized with a slight shock of surprise that the man was in mourning. This must be why I had not seen him at any of the social functions Catherine and I had been attending these last few weeks, I thought.
“I am very pleased to be here, my lord,” I returned quietly.
To my great delight, Lady Winterdale had not accompanied us today, choosing instead to spend her afternoon at some sort of dowagers’ tea party, where the guests would no doubt rip apart every single person of their acquaintance. Away from the overbearing presence of her mother, Catherine was like a different person. She almost glowed. After the harpist was finished and Catherine was asked to play, she rose with quiet confidence and gave us a performance that displayed more feeling than I had ever heard from her before. Technically she had always been superb, but out from under the shadow of Lady Winterdale she allowed her own natural feelings a fuller rein.
It was not until after the musical part of the afternoon was over and we were all partaking of tea in the second drawing room, that I tumbled to the real reason for Catherine’s astonishing transformation. She and I were sitting together on two rosewood chairs against the wall, when she happened to glance away from me and caught sight of Lord Rotheram approaching us holding a plate of small cakes.
Her whole face lit up.
Aha, I thought with a burst of insight. So that’s the way the wind blows.
I thought back and remembered all of Catherine’s nonchalant comments that the only young men who were present at the duchess’s parties were her dutiful sons. As I had heard Lord Henry talk occasionally about his two younger brothers, I had always assumed that it was one or both of those young men, who were too young to go out in society, who had been present at the musicales.
Of his elder brother, Lord Henry had said nothing.
I wondered uneasily if Lord Rotheram were married. If he were, that was certainly a potent enough reason for Catherine’s holding her tongue.
Lord Rotheram had reached us. “May I offer you something to eat?” he asked with gentle courtesy. He held out the plate to Catherine. “Lady Catherine?”
Catherine took a piece of bread and butter and looked at him as if he had given her the world.
He turned to me. “Miss Newbury?”
“Thank you, my lord.” I accepted a small piece of lemon cake.
The three of us remained talking for a few moments about music and I could not help but notice how comfortable Catherine appeared to be with this duke’s heir. I looked again at his somber clothes and wondered. No one else in the ducal family appeared to be in mourning.
Lord Henry joined us and it did not take much effort on my part to detach him from the other two.
“Is your brother in mourning?” I asked as soon as we were out of earshot of Lord Rotheram.
Lord Henry’s mobile face took on a look of unusual gravity. “Yes. His wife died nine months ago, poor chap.”
“How very sad,” I said. “She must have been very young.”
“Twenty-seven,” Lord Henry said. “The deuce of it was, she suffered for a long time. It was dreadful for her, of course, but it was also dreadful for Edward to have to watch it. I’m glad my mother managed to convince him to come to London. He needed a change of scene, even if he can’t go to regular social events for another three months.”
No wonder Lord Rotheram looked sad, I thought. And no wonder Catherine had said nothing to me about him. With his wife dead less than a year, he did not sound as if he was likely to be a potential beau.
* * *
It was the night for Almack’s weekly ball, and I must say I dressed with a good deal less enthusiasm than I had dressed for my first visit to that august place. In fact, I was beginning to find this whole business of husband-hunting a bore. For some reason, I was feeling restless and irritated, emotions which had rarely beset me before I came to London.
Perhaps I was a country girl at heart, I thought. Perhaps once I found a husband and could retire into the country with Anna, my old serenity would return.
For some reason, this scenario did not appeal to me as much as I thought it should.
Lord Winterdale did not accompany us to Almack’s, and I danced with my usual coterie of admirers and tried not to look as bored as I really was.
One surprising thing did happen at Almack’s that evening, however. Lord Borrow told me that his mother was coming up to town the following day. With a smile that I thought was just a trifle patronizing, he informed me that she would like to meet me.
I must confess, he caught me off guard. I had not thought that he could really be serious about me, but it seemed as if he was. He would not be desiring to present me to his mother otherwise.
I accepted his invitation, of course, but I have to confess that I was not as happy as I should have been at the prospect of an offer from Lord Borrow. The man was just too confoundedly big.
I woke up early the following morning, feeling heavy-eyed and depressed. On impulse, I peeked into Anna’s room next door and found her wide-awake and having a cup of chocolate at the small table in front of her fire.
“Do you want to walk in the park while it is still quiet, Anna, and see the ducks on the lake?” I asked impulsively.
Her lovely face broke into a smile. “Oh yes, Georgie. I don’t like being indoors so much.”
At this moment, Nanny came into the room.
“I know, darling,” I said to my sister. “I know you are happier in the country, and I hope that soon we will be able to remove there.” I thought of Lord Borrow and repressed a shiver. “But you will like going for a walk in the park this morning, won’t you?” I asked my sister.
“You cannot go to the park alone, Miss Georgiana,” Nanny said firmly. “Not in London. It isn’t safe.”
“I’ll ask one of the footmen to accompany us,” I said.
Nanny looked doubtful. “Have you spoken to his lordship abo
ut this, Miss Georgiana?”
“He won’t mind,” I said with confidence. “Now, if you will help Anna get dressed, Nanny, I will get dressed myself.”
Anna jumped up and down and clapped her hands. “Oh good, oh good, oh good,” she said. “We’re going out!”
I felt a pang of guilt. How confined she must have been feeling, poor child. I leaned over and kissed her petal-soft cheek. “Let’s see who can get dressed first,” I said.
She laughed gleefully. Anna loved contests. Before I was out of the room she was urging Nanny to lay out her clothes.
It was eight o’clock in the morning when Anna and I set out from the house accompanied by Robin, one of Lord Winterdale’s larger footmen. The morning was almost like a morning in the country. The sky was a clear cerulean blue and the air was fresh, with just a hint of the softness of the burgeoning spring.
We were precisely at the place where Oxford Street enters the park when we met a fashionable town chaise that was driving briskly along Park Lane. We waited for it to pass before we crossed the street to enter the park, but instead it stopped in front of us. The door, which bore a crest I didn’t recognize, opened, and a man jumped out. He stepped in front of us, further blocking our way.
“Miss Newbury,” he said with a lift of gray-blond eyebrows. “What are you doing out at such an early hour? May I offer you my escort home?”
My heart began to hammer as I looked up into the strange light eyes of Lord Marsh. “No, thank you, my lord. It is very kind of you, but my sister and I are going for a walk in the park.”
I moved as if to step around him, but he moved as well, continuing to block my way. “Your sister?” he said, looking at Anna. “I did not know that you had a sister, Miss Newbury.”
Anna looked back at him with the candidness of a child. She looked so perfect, so untouched standing there in the early morning light that I felt fear clutch even more strongly at my heart.
I knew from reading my father’s pile of evidence that the earl’s reputation with young children was vicious. He was the very last person I wished Anna to meet.
“Do you like to go out in the morning too, sir?” she asked him with the politeness Nanny had taught her.
He gave his mirthless smile. “I am afraid that I am coming home, not going out, my dear. A late night at Brooks’s, you know.”
Anna turned to me, her eyes huge. “He’s been out all night, Georgie,” she said. “Imagine that.”
The earl’s eyes were glued to Anna now, and I was desperate to get her away from him. I watched him take in the exquisite shape of her head, the perfect oval of her face, the childish grace which marked her every move.
“We must be going, my lord,” I said firmly. “If you would be so kind as to stand out of my way.”
“You are certain that I cannot see you home?”
“I am certain,” I said grimly. Anna, uneasy with the tone of my voice, slipped her hand into mine and clung tight.
Marsh’s eyes noted the childish gesture. “I wonder that your guardian allows you to come out by yourselves like this,” he said.
I didn’t say anything.
He tipped his fair head inquiringly. “But then, perhaps Winterdale doesn’t know.”
“Good day to you, Lord Marsh,” I said.
Once more he bestowed upon me that chilling smile. “Good day to you, Miss Newbury.” He produced a deep bow for Anna. “And good day to you, my dear. It was indeed a pleasure to meet such a lovely girl as yourself.”
Anna, still clinging to my hand, smiled back a little uncertainly. She had clearly sensed that I did not like Lord Marsh.
Marsh climbed into his chaise, gave the word to his coachman to proceed, and the vehicle moved off. I took a deep breath, feeling profoundly shaken by what had happened.
“Don’t you like that man, Georgie?” Anna asked as we walked through the entrance and into the park.
“I don’t think he and Lord Winterdale get along very well,” I returned cautiously. “It would probably be wisest for the both of us to stay away from him, Anna.”
“Why don’t they get along?” Anna asked. “Did they have a fight?”
“I think so.”
Anna looked thoughtful. Then two deer appeared in the grass at the side of the road and her attention was distracted. We did not talk about Lord Marsh for the remainder of our walk.
* * *
Lord Winterdale was waiting for us when we returned from our walk about two hours later. I sent Anna upstairs and trailed after him into the library, not at all liking the anger that I could see so clearly in the rigid set of his shoulders. He did not sit down behind his desk as usual, but stood under the Stubbs painting in front of the fireplace and glared at me.
“Are you mad?” he demanded. “There are four men loose in London who you know are out for your blood and you go walking by yourself in the park at the loneliest hour of the morning? Unescorted? Did you want to find yourself pushed into the Serpentine this time?”
Because I knew I was in the wrong, and because I didn’t want to admit it, I stupidly did not tell him about our meeting with Lord Marsh.
“Eight o’clock in the morning is a very busy time in London,” I defended myself. “The only people who are not out of bed are the very people whom I have been avoiding! Anna and I were perfectly safe. And I did take Robin with us, my lord. He is certainly big enough to fight off anyone.”
“The people you have been avoiding are often just coming home at eight o’clock in the morning, Miss Newbury,” he said angrily. “It was not at all unlikely for you to have been seen on the streets by someone like Marsh.”
Stupidly, once more I said nothing.
“Well,” he said at last in a voice whose anger had moderated slightly, “it seems as if no harm has been done.” His blue eyes held mine. “But don’t be so foolish again.”
I said, “It is that Anna is finding this stay in London so confining, you see.”
“I realize that, but perhaps that particular problem will soon be resolved.” Lord Winterdale leaned his shoulders against the mantlepiece. “I had a talk with George Stanhope last night and he asked my permission to pay his addresses to you.”
I stared at Lord Winterdale in shock. “He did?”
“Yes, Miss Newbury, he did. I asked him if he was aware of the fact that you had no portion, and he said that he was. He also told me that he is aware of your responsibility to Anna and he will undertake to offer her a home for the rest of her life.” He shrugged. “In short, Miss Newbury, this appears to be precisely the offer you were hoping for. I queried Stanhope about his own expectations and, as I thought, they are very handsome. He has a nice property in Derby and ten thousand a year—more than adequate for your purposes, I should think.”
I stared at him in stunned amazement.
“Well?” he said irritably. “What is wrong?”
I said, “Last night Lord Borrow told me that his mother wanted to meet me.”
He gave me a smile that was as wintry as his name. “You appear to have made a resounding success, Miss Newbury. I congratulate you. If you would like me to interview Borrow as to his expectations, I shall be glad to do so for you.”
I said numbly, “I didn’t expect either Lord Borrow or Mr. Stanhope to be the ones who would come up to scratch.”
“Ah,” he said softly. “You were hoping perhaps for an offer from Lord Henry?”
I had not been hoping for an offer from Lord Henry. I knew that suddenly, finally, and terrifyingly. I stood there in the Mansfield House library, looking at Lord Winterdale, and at last the knowledge that I had been trying so hard to evade pushed itself irresistibly to the front of my mind.
I didn’t want to marry any of my three suitors.
I pity any woman who loses her heart to Lord Winterdale.
I remembered thinking that on the evening of my come-out ball, when I had seen how effortlessly and how carelessly he had charmed his female guests.
I had never
dreamed then that I would be one of those women whom I pitied.
He was looking at me now, with his reckless eyebrows flying like flags, and I realized how much I loved to look at him, how much I missed him when he wasn’t around, how much his clever brain stimulated mine, how much . . .
“Are you in love with Lord Henry?” Lord Winterdale asked me, his voice harsh with impatience.
Get a hold of yourself, Georgie, I commanded myself sternly. I squared my shoulders like a soldier coming to attention. “No, my lord, I am not in love with Lord Henry. It is just that I have always thought that his personality seems more suited to Anna. However, if Mr. Stanhope is willing to offer her the shelter of his home, then of course I will entertain his offer.”
I felt like crying as I said this.
“You’re certain you wouldn’t prefer Borrow?” Lord Winterdale said. “I believe you will find that his income is even more substantial than Stanhope’s.”
“As I told you when first I came to see you, I am not a fortune hunter,” I said sharply. “Mr. Stanhope seems to be a very pleasant gentleman. I am sure that I will grow accustomed to being married to him. One day.”
He made a restless movement with his hands and then folded his arms across his chest as if he was forcing them to be still. “Still regretting this Frank fellow, eh?”
I blinked in surprise. Then I shook my head. “I always knew that union was impossible, my lord. It doesn’t do to regret what cannot be, you know.”
The smile he gave me was wry and full of unexpected pain. “I know it well, Miss Newbury,” he said. “I know it well.”
* * *
Lady Winterdale was furious when she learned that I was about to receive an offer of marriage from Mr. Stanhope. Over the luncheon table she scolded Catherine for not making enough of an effort at the parties we were attending.
“You must show more animation, Catherine,” she exhorted her daughter. “Look at Georgiana. She has nothing to offer a man except a pretty smile, and she has managed to secure an offer.” She looked at me. “Not that Mr. Stanhope is a brilliant parti, Georgiana. His fortune is but respectable. However, he is certainly a notable catch for you.”