Lord Dearborn's Destiny

by Brenda Hiatt

  "Our game!" said the Countess triumphantly at the end of the hand. "We must be about even now, Forrest. Let me see... yes, I have won back all but a hundred pounds." As always when the stakes were fictitious, they were playing for exorbitant sums. "Another game?"

  "I'm willing," said Mr. Winston-Fitts at once. He was clearly enjoying himself enormously, in spite of his daughter's abysmal performance.

  "Would you care for a walk in the gardens, Miss Winston-Fitts?" asked the Earl, desperate to do anything rather than continue with her as his whist partner. "Perhaps the Fenwicks would care to play some more."

  The transition was quickly arranged, and Rosalind picked up her shawl, obviously as eager as Lord Dearborn to leave the card table. Forrest led her to the end of the room and opened one of the long French doors leading onto the terrace.

  "I see we have nearly a full moon tonight," he remarked conversationally. "Mother will want everyone to stay until after the new moon, I imagine, so that they can travel more safely."

  "Is... is it dangerous to travel after the full moon?" Rosalind was startled into asking.

  "Just unlucky," replied Forrest with a smile. Really, she did look lovely in the moonlight —almost lovely enough to make him forget his irritation over her card-playing. "My mother is a consummate expert on all things pertaining to luck, as you will no doubt discover."

  "Oh," said Rosalind softly, turning slightly away from him to gaze across the moonlit gardens.

  Suddenly, Forrest realized that he had unwittingly created the ideal opportunity to propose to her. The moon, the gardens, everything was romantic perfection. He cleared his throat, but then stopped. Unaccountably, Ellie O'Day's face arose before his mind's eye, and he suddenly knew that he was not ready to commit himself to the beautiful but slow-witted girl beside him.

  He thought of Ellie spending the afternoon trying to teach Miss Winston-Fitts to play whist, and his heart went out to her. He was certain he could never display so much patience himself —and, as Rosalind's husband, surely that and much more would be required of him. He would have to make her understand the running of his estates, her social obligations, even the balancing of a table of dinner guests. He was not at all certain that he could face the prospect. He imagined a lifetime of explaining the simplest matters, over and over, to his wife and felt suddenly tired.

  "It is rather cool. Would you like to go back inside?" he asked abruptly. He knew full well that his mother, the Winston-Fittses —in short everyone —was expecting him to offer for Rosalind, but he couldn't do it. He was not certain how he might honourably withdraw his suit, but do so he must. He knew now that he could not sacrifice his life's happiness for the sake of propriety, honour —or even his supposed "Destiny". With a suddenly light heart and a spring in his step, he led Miss Winston-Fitts back into the house.

  * * *

  Ellie misplayed her first card of the evening. Her entire attention was on the probable scene outdoors, where Lord Dearborn and Rosalind had disappeared a moment ago. She knew that her aunt had been contriving to get the two of them alone almost from the hour of their arrival at Huntington Park, but it appeared that this romantic tete-a-tete had been the Earl's idea, and not Aunt Mabel's. Ellie had no doubt that an announcement of his and Rosalind's betrothal would be made shortly, perhaps that very evening.

  "Ellie, dear, spades were trumps on the last hand," Juliet chided her gently. "This time around it is diamonds." The sympathetic look in her eyes told Ellie that Lady Glenhaven had somehow divined her secret.

  Hastily pinning a carefree smile on her face, Ellie apologized for her absent-mindedness and picked up the errant card. She forced herself to focus on the game and was enjoying some measure of success in spite of her thoughts when she saw Rosalind and Lord Dearborn re-enter the room, less than five minutes after they had gone out. Searching their expressions, she saw little to indicate that anything momentous had just occurred. Lord Dearborn, perhaps, looked happier than he had on their exit, but Rosalind looked as vague as ever— certainly not like a girl who had just received a proposal of marriage.

  Breathing somewhat more easily, Ellie was once again able to attend to the game and she and Juliet quickly regained the points they had lost owing to her earlier lapse. She was just thinking what a pity it was that the fifty thousand pounds she had won tonight were not real when the sound of the front door knocker interrupted everyone's play.

  "Gracious! Whoever could that be at this hour?" wondered Lady Dearborn aloud.

  A moment later, her question was answered by Hutchins, who entered to announce in stentorian tones, "Sir George Bellamy."

  Ellie had never been more astonished, but the Countess was already rising to greet her new guest, and Lord Dearborn stepped forward with perfect cordiality. Neither of them seemed in the least surprised at their visitor's identity —only at the lateness of his arrival.

  "I had begun to fear you could not come, Sir George," the Earl was saying jovially. "Mother would have been most upset, for she particularly desired to make your acquaintance."

  Ellie glanced towards Rosalind to gauge her reaction to her erstwhile suitor's entrance and was pleased to see that she appeared composed, if rather pale. After completing his greetings to his host and hostess, Sir George came forward to make his bows to the Winston-Fittses, then seated himself next to Rosalind, whose colour changed from white to bright pink and then back as Ellie watched.

  Peeping involuntarily at Lord Dearborn, where he still stood next to his mother, Ellie was mystified to see a small, satisfied smile playing about his mouth.

  * * *

  CHAPTER 13

  ELLIE HAD little opportunity to unravel the state of even her own feelings, much less those of the Earl or Rosalind, during the next few days. Lady Dearborn's ball was quickly approaching and she had offered her help in the preparations, help the Countess had been eager to accept. Her advice was sought on such small matters as the types of flowers best suited to the various rooms and the rearrangement of the furniture in the great hall to effect its transformation into a ballroom. Likewise, she helped to write and address the invitations that were to be issued to all the neighbouring gentry.

  She would have enjoyed her various tasks more if the thought had not kept recurring that the ball's main purpose was to introduce the next Countess of Dearborn— Rosalind —to the surrounding county.

  Rosalind, meanwhile, took no part in the numerous preparations for an event that might be thought to have some importance for her. Mrs. Winston-Fitts, no doubt seeking to conceal her daughter's shortcomings at penmanship, went so far as to praise Elinor's hand to the Countess in recommending her for the post of writing out invitations. And, of course, when an opinion was sought as to the decorations, Rosalind could never be prevailed upon to offer one. Ellie often feared that she appeared too outspoken by contrast, but Lady Dearborn never failed to praise her taste when she made her preferences known.

  In fact, a warm affection was growing between Ellie and Lady Dearborn, so much so that Ellie was distressed at the thought of leaving Huntington Park, though she could not regret her decision to do so.

  She saw little of the Earl during this time, for the weather was fine and the gentlemen were abroad most days, but her thoughts were never far from him. After most of a London Season, Ellie had had ample opportunity to compare Lord Dearborn to a great many other high-ranking and handsome gentlemen and could unequivocally say that he was far superior, both in person and address, to all of them. Of course, she could no longer claim to be completely impartial in her judgement, for she had finally admitted to herself that she had fallen in love with him.

  She had not tried to do so. In fact, she had very definitely tried not to, but it seemed that she had no more control over her emotions where Lord Dearborn was concerned than she had over the direction of the wind. By keeping her hands and thoughts occupied in assisting the Countess with her preparations, she hoped to at least distract herself from the unenviable state in which she foun
d herself, of loving a man destined to another.

  Thus, it was with mixed feelings that she responded to Juliet's suggestion, two days before the ball, that they slip away after an early breakfast for a few hours of fishing. Ellie knew that Lady Glenhaven at least suspected her feelings for her brother and feared that she might try to force some sort of confession from her during the course of the morning. At the same time, it would be a vast relief to confide her inner conflicts to another.

  "I have already had Jim, the stable-boy, bring my old tackle round to the kitchen," Juliet said, her soft brown eyes sparkling with mischief and excitement. "Mama will not need you till after nuncheon, for she is to meet with Forrest and the steward this morning. 'Twill be the perfect opportunity."

  Her enthusiasm was contagious, and Ellie promised to meet her at the kitchen door in fifteen minutes. Running upstairs, she changed into an older gown and sturdy walking shoes, snatched up a light wrap and hurried back down, her heart surprisingly light at the thought of a brief escape from the problems that kept hammering at her. She would not think about the Earl at all while they fished, she promised herself.

  Ellie discovered quickly that her promise had been rash, for the two young ladies were not even out of sight of the house before Juliet said, "Forrest seems very preoccupied these days. Have you any idea what might be troubling him?" Her tone was casual and her eyes were on the path ahead, but Ellie suspected that she was sincerely concerned about her brother.

  "I—I have seen very little of Lord Dearborn of late," she replied in as calm a voice as she could manage. She thought back over the past few evenings, when she had used the task of addressing invitations as an excuse to avoid watching him and Rosalind together after dinner. "Perhaps he is anxious that the ball come off well," she suggested.

  "Oh, pooh!" Juliet dismissed that idea. "Forrest never concerns himself with that sort of thing. He knows perfectly well that Mama will pull off another social triumph, as always. Speaking of the ball, however, why is it that your cousin is not more involved? From what Mama says, it will likely be her engagement party, as well. I should think she'd be thrilled at landing a catch like Forrest, but she seems quite detached about it all. Perhaps she is merely shy, however." She watched Ellie closely as she spoke.

  "Rosalind is certainly shy," Ellie was able to agree with complete honesty. She endeavored to hide her pain at Juliet's words, but the earnest gaze her friend directed at her told her that she had not been completely successful.

  Juliet did not immediately comment on her observations, however, but drew Ellie's attention to a bend in the stream, where it widened into a pool beneath some overhanging willows before continuing on its way. "This used to be my secret fishing spot when I was a girl," she said. "I actually only remember catching one fish here, but it was my favourite place whenever I wished to be alone. Here, let us spread this out on the ground here, and bait our hooks." She shook out an old bedspread she had brought along for the purpose while Ellie dealt with the fishing gear.

  When they had settled down side by side, their lines in the water, Juliet said quietly, "You've grown rather fond of Forrest, have you not?"

  Ellie flushed, but nodded. "I find Lord Dearborn very... agreeable," she said with an effort. "I'm certain he will make my cousin very happy." She stared blindly at the water, refusing to meet Juliet's eyes.

  "Oh, Ellie!" Juliet burst out unexpectedly. "I don't want Miss Winston-Fitts as my sister! I would much rather have you."

  Ellie turned in surprise at this outburst to find Juliet's eyes as damp as her own. "Please, Juliet, you mustn't—" she began, but Lady Glenhaven cut her off.

  "I had promised myself to say nothing of this, but I can't help it, Ellie," she said plaintively. "I cannot seem to get two words out of Rosalind, and I have tried. I know what it is to be shy, for I have always been so, and I don't hold that against her. But I could swear she does not love my brother."

  She chewed her lip for a moment before adding, "Oh, how can Forrest be so blind? Surely he must see that someone like Miss Winston-Fitts can never make him happy. Why, she has no sense of humour at all that I can perceive, and Forrest loves a good joke above anything! If he could only see past her pretty face, he might find that the perfect match for him is right before his nose."

  Ellie felt it absolutely necessary to stop her now. "Juliet, I pray you, say no more," she pleaded. "My only consolation has been that they might be tolerably happy together. Do not take away the one thing that might save me from complete misery."

  "Then you do love him!" exclaimed Juliet triumphantly. "I was almost certain you did. And your cousin does not." She stated it as fact.

  "I—I don't know that to be true," said Ellie hesitantly.

  "Well, I do, for I have been watching her closely. She seems far happier in Sir George Bellamy's company than in Forrest's. And what is more, I don't believe Forrest is in love with her, either. Oh, he admires her, of course, but that is not at all the same thing. Hmm —let me see..." Her words trailed off as she lost herself in thought.

  "Juliet, you must say nothing of this to anyone, especially your brother!" cried Ellie in alarm. "Promise me! Even if they are not precisely in love yet, that does not mean they may not grow to love each other in time. And I assure you, my aunt is quite determined to see this match, and no other, take place. She will make poor Rosie's life quite wretched if she does not marry Lord Dearborn."

  The very thought of the Earl learning of her own feelings put her in a quake. So far, she was certain that the object of her love was completely unaware of it—as he must remain.

  "As if your cousin will lack offers," said Juliet pettishly. Then, catching Ellie's pleading glance, she relented. "Oh, very well, I will say nothing. Perhaps Forrest will come to his senses on his own." The smile that accompanied her words did not reassure Ellie at all, but she had no choice but to accept Juliet's promise at face value.

  The two ladies turned their talk to other matters for the remainder of their fishing expedition and both found it a pleasant exercise even though they caught nothing. Ellie noticed Juliet's speculative gaze upon her once or twice during lulls in the conversation but refused to agitate herself by attempting to guess her friend's thoughts.

  She could not afford to allow Juliet's words to give her false hope. Even if Juliet was correct about Lord Dearborn's feelings towards Rosalind, that did not mean that he was any more likely to fall in love with her, she thought unhappily.

  * * *

  As the preparations for the ball were nearly complete, Ellie had no excuse to avoid the after-dinner gathering in the parlour that evening. It was with some trepidation that she awaited the entrance of the gentlemen, for this would be her first opportunity, not counting mealtimes, to see Lord Dearborn and Rosalind together since her talk with Juliet that morning. She was not certain whether she hoped or feared to confirm Lady Glenhaven's opinions with her own observations; she only knew that discovering the truth was of vital importance to her.

  Lord Dearborn's first words on his entrance were not designed to add to her peace of mind.

  "Let us have some music tonight, shall we?" he said to the company as soon as they were all assembled. "Miss O'Day, will you oblige us at the instrument while your fair cousin favours us with her voice?"

  Ellie and Rosalind acquiesced readily enough, the former catching her aunt's look to remind her not to remain at the pianoforte for too long. The two of them performed creditably, and Ellie, stealing surreptitious glances in his direction, saw that the Earl's gaze was fixed on them the entire time; but whether he was looking more at Rosalind or herself she could not have said for certain.

  At Mrs. Winston-Fitts's urging, Lord Dearborn came forward after the second song to sing a duet with Rosalind. Feeling herself suddenly unequal to watching them perform together, Ellie stood up. In as playful a tone as she could manage, she said, "Sir George, perhaps you would care to play for a while. I recall that you are by no means unskilled."

  She
received a small, guilty satisfaction in knowing that she was obeying her aunt's strictures while at the same time creating a situation that Mrs. Winston-Fitts was unlikely to relish.

  Sir George looked uncomfortable at being singled out, but stepped forward without undue hesitation to take her place. The Earl joined Rosalind at the pianoforte, and Sir George struck up a lively melody. Ellie thought that Rosalind sang more sweetly than before, but did not know whether to credit the improvement to Sir George's presence or Lord Dearborn's.

  "Sir George has not quite your skill at the pianoforte, but he seems to bring out the best in our singer, don't you think?" asked Lady Glenhaven at Ellie's ear, startling her.

  She turned quickly. "They often performed together in Warwickshire," she replied, willing her colour to remain normal. "No doubt that is an advantage."

  Juliet allowed that it might be so, and they listened in silence for a moment. Suddenly, Ellie felt that she could bear no more.

  "I—I am feeling a trifle warm, Juliet," she whispered apologetically to her companion. "I believe I shall step outside for a breath of air. I shan't be long." Willing herself to walk slowly when she felt far more like fleeing the scene, Ellie made her way to the French doors at the rear of the room.

  The guests were standing and sitting in groups, some engaged in low conversation, as Sir George and the two singers began another song. Mrs. Winston-Fitts frowned as her niece moved past her, and Ellie responded with a carefree smile that quite belied her nervousness.

  Glancing back as she silently opened the door, Ellie was thankful to see that her aunt's attention had already returned to the trio at the pianoforte. She slipped outside and breathed a sigh of relief before gulping deep draughts of the cool night air. Forcefully, she banished the picture of the two golden heads blending their voices so beautifully inside. She would think only of the darkened scene before her.