In the Brief Eternal Silence

by Rebecca Melvin

Miss Murdock pulled it from her mouth where she had placed it, stared at it for a critical moment, and although it was not at all hurt badly, said, “I think perhaps I should go and get some brown paper on it, after all.” Seeing good her escape, she set aside her doily once again and left the room, begging Lady Lydia's pardon.

  She did get brown paper on it in the kitchens, on the off chance that Lady Lydia should remember and inquire after it later, and then as a means to escape more permanently until she was certain Lydia's subject of conversation had quite left her mind, decided it would do no harm to visit the stables on the off chance that the Duchess did have a decent mount, for she missed riding very much, and wondered quite often how Leaf was doing in his lordship's stable.

  With this decided, she went to the hall and front foyer, accepted a wrap from Ashton who appeared silently and promptly. “Will you be needing your maid, miss?” he asked.

  “No. Thank you, Ashton. I'm merely going to visit the stables and shan't be gone long.” She smiled up at him, thinking that he really had the most calming effect on people even when he only spoke a few words.

  “As you wish, miss,” Ashton agreed and held open the door for her.

  Lizzie stepped out into the sun, enjoying the warmth of it on her face as she blew frosty air out into a mist in front of her. It was a glorious day, as the view from the window had promised, and she was glad she had stepped out into it. She followed the walk around the imposing town house and marched along the mew that she had met St. James in the night before, but now with the sunlight slanting down, it all seemed very far away and even unimportant. In the stables, all was quiet except for the rhythmic munching of horses on their hay, and the warm odor of their bodies tinged her welcoming nostrils.

  It was the closest to being home that Miss Murdock had found, and she allowed herself a brief moment of examining the underlying worries she had of how her father was getting along. He may have been lamentable in her upbringing, but she did miss him and his takings dearly. After a moment, she reminded herself that she had come out of the house to leave her troubles behind, not study upon them, and she went along the center aisle, stopping at each stall in turn. Those horses that came forward, she patted and spoke to, eyeing each as a mount. None added up to what she was looking for, and she sighed, having expected to find nothing adequate to begin with. The Dowager did go to the park a few mornings a week, but she was driven in her crested carriage. Not surprising the only decent mount in residence should be Andrew's, and of course, he was gone for now at any rate.

  Voices reached her from the tack room, and she wandered over to stand in the door, loathe to return back to the house and idleness just yet. She wiped her nose on a hanky, which had begun running after being outside and then in again, and peered through the door that stood open. Tyler glanced up at her shadow, surprising her, and a brief look of consternation flitted across his face. Then he grinned. “Why if it isn't the little Miss that slapped t'duke's face,” he said with more warmth than she would have thought she warranted. “And not a bad wallop you gave him.”

  Miss Murdock flushed a very deep red at his words and glanced at the older groom beside him, who quit his saddle-soaping at Tyler's words. “It was just a misunderstanding,” Miss Murdock stammered, wishing the floor would swallow her where she stood.

  But Tyler didn't seem to think she should be embarrassed in the least. He spat out a stream of tobacco into the corner and told her, “No need t'downplay it, Miss, for I'm sure I've felt like boxing his ears on many occasion. I've never in me life met anyone as difficult as he, even when he was just a lad. Took t'his behind with a switch when he was young more than once, of which t'old Duke, he wouldn't have appreciated, but he drove me t'the point where I didn't care. Wish I could take a switch after him now, at times.”

  “St. James you be talkin' about?” the other groom asked in astonishment. “You slapped St. James, miss?”

  “She did,” Tyler told him when Miss Murdock did not seem inclined to answer but only shook her head in exasperation. “I dare say he'll carry t'mark for at least a day or two,” he laughed. “And won't that set t'tongues t'waggin'.”

  “That may very well be, Tyler,” Miss Murdock interrupted, “but I see no reason why it need be known that I was the one that put it there.”

  “I wish I'd seen it,” the older groom said with a great deal of longing in his voice.

  “Oh, you've no call t'worry about old Bedrow here,” Tyler reassured her. “He'll not carry t'tale any further. And I won't tell another soul for although I know St. James would skin me for it, I can see by t'look in your eye you would be none too happy either, and I think I'm rather more scared of you than him now at any rate,” and he guffawed at his own joke.

  “I don't find that amusing, Tyler,” Miss Murdock said.

  “Oh, I'm sure you don't,” Tyler agreed. “But after you've known his lordship longer, you'll find it a great deal funnier then.”

  She was silent for a moment, having no answer for that, and as Tyler's amusement seemed to have run its course and the other groom, with only a shake of his head went back to his cleaning and did not seem inclined to pursue the topic further, she asked, “But, Tyler, I was wondering, I thought you were employed by St. James, not the duchess.”

  He looked at her for a moment, his face unreadable. “So I am, Miss. Just visitin' me uncle here on me time off.”

  “Oh. I see,” Miss Murdock said, wondering how she had missed Tyler introducing the other groom, whom she had gathered was named Bedrow, as his uncle before this. “I didn't mean to pry for of course it isn't my business. I just came down to see if there were anything worthy of mounting, but alas, I could find nothing,” she explained. For just a moment, the thought had occurred to her that St. James had sicced his groom on her to make sure of her where abouts. Of course, that was silly, as she had told him she would be here until the end of the week, and surely he must realize that she would not go back on her word.

  Tyler said, “Now, Miss, I know that milord St. James would see to a mount for you if you merely tell him you wish t'ride.”

  “Oh, no,” Miss Murdock shook her head, even backing away a step. To add to the expense that had already been spent on her was just too terrifying. “That just would not do, Tyler. That just wouldn't do at all.”

  He gave her a puzzled look, spat more tobacco juice. The uncle and nephew exchanged glances. “Well, now, Miss,” the older groom began, “I know the Dowager Duchess can be rather daunting, but she would be more than pleased to procure you a mount during your stay with her.”

  But Miss Murdock only shook her head again with a wistful smile. “Thank you for trying to help, but it really is such a small matter. I'll not bother her with it. I don't intend to be here so long that anyone should go to all that trouble.”

  “Why, miss, t'season's just beginning!” Tyler exclaimed. “You'll have a long, enjoyable winter, and from how nicely and ladylike you're dressed, you'll be fighting off t'beau's. Nothin' could be more fun for you than t'have a mount t'ride in the park each mornin' and lead those young swains on a foolish chase.”

  She laughed at the picture he presented. “Thank you, Tyler.” She smiled, but added with frankness, “I can't think of anything that would distress me more, however unlikely.” She sighed, leaned against the tack room door jamb, unmindful of getting dust on her fine new wrap that had only been delivered just that morning. “I truly wish for a ride in the country anyway. The park, I think, would just be a poor substitute in any event. Swains or no swains.”

  They laughed with her and she felt some of her home sickness slip away. “Would I be making you too uncomfortable if I just sat and listened to you both talk for awhile?” she asked. “I do so miss being in the stables.”

  “Miss,” the older groom said, “we would be honored.” Proving his uncle's words, Tyler got up, laid his coat across a tack trunk and offered her this seat.

  Miss Murdock smiled at him, unbuttoned her wrap in the relative wa
rmth of the room and sat down. “Please, just begin where you left off. I shan't interrupt,” she encouraged.

  They did, and drew her out with their nonsense until she was laughing and quite forgetful that she had seen Tyler just last night under the most unseemly circumstances and had never clapped eyes on his uncle until today. The hours flew by, and it was with shock that she finally looked at her watch. “Oh, my! I am sure they are looking for me, for it is past tea time!” she exclaimed. “I really must go right away.”

  She stood, buttoned her wrap in hurried movements. “Thank you so much,” she said. “I don't know when I've spent a better afternoon.”

  Tyler said. “Nor we, I dare say, Miss. Now hurry and come back anytime.”

  She gave them one last grateful smile, and hurried out of the tack room. For the first time that long afternoon, she thought of the ordeal that awaited her that night and sighed. Well, she had managed to push it back these past hours. At least she had that. And the assurance that by being at Almacks she was out of reach of St. James, who could not get vouchers!

  And if he showed up with Steven knocking on her window tonight, Miss Murdock vowed, she would not go down to him again.

  It now seemed, as she hurried up the mew, that it was possible she really did have everything well in control, and that instead of cursing the social schedule that the dowager and Lady Lydia had planned for her she should be thankful for it, for the very respectability of it would keep her out of St. James' reach.

  If St. James were even still in pursuit. If he had taken her words seriously, would he not be better serving himself by finding another to fill the role she so wished to avoid? And this thought brought her up short, for there was something most troubling in it.

  “Think!” she commanded herself with impatience, for she was standing stock-still in the mew and she was already extremely late. She tried to push past the conflicting emotions that, now freed, seem to batter her without mercy. Of course, she was infatuated with him, she could not deny that. But why should she not be? she argued with herself. Every female in England who had ever clapped eyes on him was probably infatuated with him to one degree or another.

  It was not that, she decided. It was something beyond emotion and squeamishness on her part. It was something. . . logical. “Damn it!” she cried to herself. “Think of it the way he would. Cut all the blood from it. . . what is it that I see that makes perfect sense that he has not seen in all his—”

  But just then the sound of horse's hooves nearly overtaking her caused her to look up, her thoughts torn away. It was Andrew returning with speed from his excursion. He reined in his horse just in front of her. “Lizzie,” he panted. “Whatever are you doing out here in the mew? We are late for tea you know, and although I knew I would be in for a lecture, I never dreamed you would be also!”

  “I was just on my way in,” she said as he hurried to dismount. “For I was in the stables and I lost track of the time.”

  “As did I,” he said more quietly now that he was on level with her. “Wait a spare second for me to get a groom, and we shall go in together. A united front!” and he grinned, as though very much taken with the idea of the two of them being dressed down together.

  “Of course,” she said. But something inside of her mind that was still plucking away at that problem, which was not even her problem but St. James' problem, thought maybe it's not logical at all. Maybe it's intuitive.

  Even as she was thinking this, Andrew turned to lead his horse on into the stables. Miss Murdock was aware of Tyler coming out to take his horse, which she couldn't help thinking was very good of him as it was his day off and he was only visiting. At the same time, Andrew knelt down and grasped something in his hand that he found in the gutter alongside the mew with a little exclamation of surprise. “Miss Murdock!” he exclaimed with boyish triumph as he held the item up. “You have lost your handkerchief.”

  Over Andrew's head, she saw Tyler's face take on a very strange expression, and she met his eyes for the briefest of seconds. On instinct she began moving forward. “Why, yes, I must have. Thank you—”

  “But this is not your handkerchief at all!” Andrew said, looking at the garment in wonder. “For there is St. James' crest upon it, just as bold as you please.” And his eyes came up to meet hers, stopping her in her thanks.

  Before she could answer, a voice behind her, very near behind her, said, “It is tea time, Andrew, as I was just coming out to tell Miss Murdock. I saw her from the window while I was sewing.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Oh, dear!” Miss Murdock said beneath her breath. Tyler was looking at her with a great deal of concern on his face, and she was afraid that her expression appeared much the same to him.

  As if to confirm this fear, Andrew rose to his feet and said, “Are you quite all right, Miss Murdock? You suddenly look very disturbed.”

  She forced a smile. “Not at all, Andrew, I assure you.” Whether she was assuring him that she was quite all right or quite disturbed, she left rather unclear. Then she turned to meet the eyes of Lady Lydia with a distinct lump of dread in her stomach.

  She could not have been more correct than to feel that lump, either, she saw at once. For Lady Lydia's mouth was clamped together in a most intimidating manner, and she drew her breath in and said in an undertone for Miss Murdock's ears alone, “Well! I suppose that explains a great deal, does it not, Miss Murdock!”

  With desperation, Miss Murdock said, “I'm afraid I don't follow you, Lady Lydia.”

  “Well, we shall discuss this later. As I have said, right now, you are late for tea. As well as Andrew. Andrew!”

  “Coming, mother,” he told her. Tyler was taking his horse, and as Miss Murdock turned, she saw Tyler also take the handkerchief from Andrew, who was distracted enough by his mother's wrath (whom, he must have been thinking, seemed even more upset than usual for his merely being late for tea again) that he really did not notice.

  Tyler met Miss Murdock's eyes, nodded once in reassurance, as though he knew of some way to help her in this predicament, and then turned without saying anything to lead the horse into the stables.

  “Come along, Miss Murdock,” Lady Lydia commanded in a tone full of righteous indignation and, holding her skirts up the required inch, marched Miss Murdock and her tardy son into the house.

  And Miss Murdock, as she followed that Lady's back, could only conclude that Lady Lydia was not nearly as dense as everyone thought she was.

  “I can not tell you,” Lady Lydia began as soon as the sitting room door of Lizzie's bed chambers was closed behind her, “how shocked and disappointed in you I am, Miss Murdock!”

  “Indeed, I think you are rather over-reacting over a wayward handkerchief, Lady Lydia,” Miss Murdock replied from where she sat. She had been gnawing her fingernail just the moment before in dread of this interview, but she saw no reason why Lady Lydia should know this.

  “Oh, do not try to be coy with me, Miss Murdock. I was young once, also, you know. And although I am sure I felt myself quite daring, I would have never done as you have done last night.”

  “And what ever is it you think I have done?” Miss Murdock asked. Lady Lydia seated herself on the chaise lounge, and Lizzie could have sworn she heard the lacings of Lydia's stays creak as she did so.

  “Oh, very sly, Miss Murdock. Gain from me how much I know and in that manner avoid telling me anything I may not already be aware of. Well, I am aware of a great deal, so we may as well speak plainly.”

  “Forgive me, ma'am, but I wish you would.”

  Lady Lydia nodded. “Then I shall. You rode with St. James last night, unchaperoned in his coach. Is that speaking plainly enough for you, Miss Murdock?”

  Miss Murdock cringed on the inside but she maintained a brave front. “And you have come to this conclusion merely from a found handkerchief in the gutter, Lady Lydia? Why, it is a fantastic supposition!”

  “Not when you add that I saw a coach last night from my bedroo
m window. Not when I am certain that I saw a groom returning from escorting someone to the door, and a man, Miss Murdock, would certainly not need to be escorted. I had my suspicions already, Miss Murdock, but I could not believe with your only being here in London but one full day that you had managed to procure an admirer so quickly. I know the term fast indicates just what it means, but even I could not credit anyone being that fast!” She fanned herself with her hand as though the very thought of it made her faint. “So of course I tried very strongly to with-hold any judgments. But when it was St. James' handkerchief found in the mew just now, it all came together with shocking clarity! And I, of all people, should not be surprised that he has had the audacity of parking one of his lightskirts in his own grandmother's home!”

  Miss Murdock colored at the end of these pronouncements. “I do not view myself as a lightskirt, ma'am, and I shall try very hard to overlook that insult as I understand you to be beside yourself.”

  “Indeed, I am! I can not think what you were thinking to repay the Duchess' hospitality to you in such a way! And after all the expense she has gone to to launch you properly in society! If I did not think it would kill her, I would march in there now and tell her what a viper she has taken to her bosom, and indeed it was my first instinct to do so. But of course, I do not wish to do that, no matter how angry I may be, but let me assure you, Miss Murdock, you will be leaving here on the morrow, or I will do as I should, and the results will be on your and St. James' heads and not on mine!”

  “You will do no such thing,” Miss Murdock exclaimed, her simmering anger getting the better of her. “For if you were to do that, you would be doing it for no other reason than to spite her! Oh, do not look at me as though I have lost my mind! I know perfectly well that you bypass no chance to rundown St. James to her, and granted he has given you many opportunity, but you take a great deal of pleasure in throwing his escapades up into her face.

  “If you recall correctly, I had every wish to leave today, but it was at the insistence of yourself as well as the Duchess and Andrew—Earl Larrimer, that I stayed. If I am having an affair with milord Duke, which even you should be able to see is utterly ridiculous, then perhaps you can explain why I would be so anxious to return home?”