Lord Sidley's Last Season

by Sherry Lynn Ferguson

  “Good Lord, Marian, you sound as frosty as Mother! Becca is absolutely wonderful! You should have seen her ride today-she cleared a six-foot hedge on the way home as though it were no more than a line of pebbles! And she was on that nervy gray hunter of Sidley’s too! Ripping rider!”

  “Yes, but Edgar, are you serious? What do you know of her character? Are you intending to speak to her father, to make her-”

  “I might, Marian. I very well might. And if I do, then you and Mother and Katie shall simply have to accept her!”

  “If she accepts you”

  “I’m almost certain she would,” he said. “If Benjamin, who hasn’t a single worthy impulse, would leave off pestering her! He shouldn’t think Becca entertains any charity toward him at all, with him just the least of Derwin’s brood-”

  “She has given you reason to hope, then, Cousin?”

  “More than hope, Marian! The way she smiles at me-as though we share some secret of our own..

  As his raptures continued, Marian ceased to comment. Her gaze slid to Sidley, who danced farther down the set with Edith. Apparently he was having no difficulty executing the steps. She watched him turn. And his own gaze caught her watching him.

  At once she focused intently on Lord Vaughn, who passed her in the line. Lord Benjamin had told them of Vaughn’s history with Jenny Lanning, now Mrs. Knox. Marian found herself thinking that Vaughn also cared for someone beyond reach. She knew her consideration held compassion. She felt herself coloring at the thought, but she doubted the viscount read her expression correctly. He was a most grave-looking gentleman.

  They did not dance long. Edith and Lady Adeline left the floor, shrinking the set. Lord Sidley and the Harveys excused themselves from the subsequent lively gigue, which was the last dance preceding a late supper. In the dining room, Marian was once more assigned to the center of the table, across from Clara Poole. Marian was thoroughly ashamed of herself and of her betraying, ambitious heart; for, however much she might wish to think of him, she could not seem to summon William. And though Sidley was too readily in her thoughts, she refused to contemplate him. She would not look toward her host at the head of the table and concentrated instead on moving her untouched supper about her plate.

  Her host’s choice of bride had to be near at hand. She told herself she was prepared. Yet when the group retired for the night, no announcement had been made, and Marian was left to confront a final morning of work on Lord Sidley’s portrait.

  Sidley had debated with himself for much of the night-whether to speak to her or not. He’d determined that as either course bore with it a certain measure of risk, he might as soon opt for the happier.

  And so he told Vaughn as they rode the next morning. “I must choose, Vaughn. Why should I not choose what gives me pleasure?”

  “Miss Ware is affianced”

  “But she is not yet married. I have your example before me, my friend. How should I feel were she to marry Lieutenant Reeves? I should forever regret not having spoken”

  “You anticipate, then, that she might break her engagement?”

  Sidley drew his horse to a halt and measured Vaughn’s expression. “She is not indifferent to me”

  “Possibly not. But she is honor-bound; she must still feel committed. She is like to think you forward”

  “Better that than that we should both be too slavish to propriety-and miserable as well”

  “You assume much, Lee. From what I perceive of Miss Ware, she has not dared to think of you in that way. You have been courting her cousin. Would you expect her to be overjoyed by your disclosure? Think of her concerns for her family. And do not forget-you have not apprised her or the Formsbys of your true state of health.”

  “I shall do so this morning. My perceived ill health shall no longer prove an obstacle”

  “No, but your health might.”

  “My cryptic friend, just what do you mean?”

  “What I have told you before. That she will not appreciate having been taken for a fool”

  “I never sought to dupe her. Nor have I implied that my days are numbered.”

  “The powder … ?”

  “Has been entirely dispensed with. Granted, Vaughn, ‘tis a delicate matter. But she must be happier to know me living than dying.”

  “She might still choose not to live with you”

  “I shall risk that”

  Vaughn looked down as he patted his horse’s neck. “I have rarely questioned your wisdom, Sidley. And heaven knows we have seen a good deal together. But if I were a betting man, I would lay you odds you will be surprised.”

  “She cannot be in ignorance of my sentiments.”

  Vaughn’s eyebrows rose. “She may be aware of your attentions but still fail to comprehend your aim. I do not comprehend your aim. You are not being entirely rational, Lee. And your actions have spoken louder than whatever you might wish to say to her. Regardless of her own sentiments or wishes, she knows you have been wooing three other women. I remind you, ‘twas not Miss Ware you escorted about the lake yesteray.

  “The circuits were to please my aunt.”

  “And as for that, do you think Lady Adeline will approve this choice?”

  “She likes Miss Ware. And the girl is still a Satterthwaite.”

  “But she is not at your level. She has neither title nor, as I hear it, much of a portion. Her standing is not nearly as elevated as her cousin’s, or even Miss TinckneyDwight’s. And she hasn’t the treasures of the Harveys”

  “She has much more of value. And she thinks for herself”

  “Commendable, I’m sure. But she cannot act entirely for herself. Lee, you forget she is a woman”

  Sidley smiled. “I assure you, I do not forget it.”

  “You forget its restrictions. I caution you-”

  “I care for the girl, Arthur.”

  Vaughn sighed. “If you truly care for her, she deserves better from you. You must not speak”

  “Must not? Then you must tell me how I should manage. For I suspect you would know better than most” For his sharpness, he had the dubious satisfaction of silencing Vaughn. “My friend,” he said quickly, “I am sorry. I’m not used to such speeches from you; no doubt I deserve it. But I feel I must take the chance”

  “It is not a gamble in your favor, Sidley. You have forgotten yourself in your pretense” And with that warning, Vaughn continued disconsolately by his side to the edge of the stable yard.

  There, just as they reined in, Sidley noticed that Marian Ware stepped into the open doorway at the west wing of the house. She wore her painting smock, which proved she had already been at work. He smiled even as he managed a careful dismount.

  “Now is as good a time as any,” he muttered to Vaughn, who nodded abruptly and obligingly led the horses off to be stabled. But Sidley’s assurance diminished the closer he got to the house. For however charming Marian Ware looked in her serviceable smock, however appealingly fresh her cheeks and bright her hair in the early-morning light, the expression on her face was lethal.

  He halted abruptly.

  She remained several steps above him and looked down. The lift of her chin was contemptuous. “I saw you from the library,” she said, “as you crossed the front drive.” She pressed her palms together, as though she would contain herself. “You look very fit this morning, my lord. In fact, you do not look ill at all.”

  “Miss Ware-”

  “I have been blind,” she rushed on. “Not to see, not to know, that there is nothing whatever the matter with you! Yet here I have been painting you and not-not seeing you!”

  Even as she seethed, she looked lovely.

  “Miss Ware-” he tried again.

  “I suppose I must be monstrously susceptible.” Her sharply drawn breath was audible. “To have believed it all the talk, all the gossip that you and your callous friends have put about. I still cannot credit you with acting so contemptibly, given your family, and Lord Vaughn as well, and Lord Benjamin.
‘Tis unconscionable!”

  “Miss Ware, I would-”

  “How cynical you must be,” she charged, “to engage in such a hoax, when here I thought you merely highspirited! Whatever could have put it into your head? That all of this”-she gestured vaguely-“should be nothing but a game to you, some insufferable joke, a moment’s caprice, when there are those who sincerely wished you-” She stopped and fixed him with a magnificently dampening stare.

  “Clara Poole termed you `playful’ yesterday, my lord, and she must know, because she is your friend of long-standing. You have not dared deceive her. But I would call you devious. Devious and cruel! All these manipulations-to what purpose? More attention, I suppose, for one of your outrageous conceit. Or perhaps you laugh at those who truly have been injured, and you make a mockery of their troubles and commitment, to prove life itself a jest? Your poor aunt! What she must be feeling! And all so you might gallivant unchecked about town! That you should be so irresponsible! Oh, you are .useless’! Just as he said! I shall never forgive you. I shall never, ever forgive you!”

  “Oh, come now,” he said, attempting a step toward her. “Miss Marian-”

  But she moved back. “I cannot stop you from courting Katie.” Her voice was sharper, harder. “I can only influence how she thinks of you. My aunt and Edgar will aid me in leaving today, Lord Sidley, when I request it. They will not question me. They trust me, as they should no longer trust you. You may explain yourself to them in your own way. I will grant you that one small courtesy, here-in your home. But if you do not tell them soon, I promise you that I shall. And I will leave within the hour.”

  “Miss Marian, you must listen!” He was becoming distractedly aware of a horrific din from the stables, and from somewhere at the back of the house a woman was shrieking, shrieking to the uttermost at seven o’clock in the morning. He wished only to concentrate on Marian Ware, yet he had to force himself to ignore the ungodly noise. “Please, listen-”

  “No doubt you have some ready explanation,” she interrupted. Her cheeks were very pink. The stream of charges had come from her almost breathlessly. “No doubt you have practiced it, and possibly you even believe it sound. But it cannot be. You have demonstrated the most insufferable arrogance! That you, who have so much, should have stooped … oh, it is despicable, sir! Your behavior has been vile. And I must regret my own. I am ashamed. I’m appalled that I thought you-”

  The shrieking had become unbearable. Sidley’s jaw set grimly.

  “I wish never to see you again,” she said abruptly, and wheeled from him.

  He started up the steps after her, only to be brought up short.

  “Sidley!” Vaughn had a hold of his arm. “Becca Harvey’s decamped. Before dawn this morning. Her father thinks she’s off to Gretna Green”

  “Benny?” Sidley grated impatiently, watching Marian Ware’s retreating back.

  “No, thank God. Linton Mopes, that fool curricle racer from town.”

  “Mopes! She will regret it. And her parents?”

  “Her mother is in hysterics. You must come. Harvey intends to set out after them at once”

  Sidley looked in frustration down the hallway. Marian Ware had vanished. And he could not pursue her. Not now. His obligation was to the Harveys, whose foolish daughter had had the poor judgment to flee an earl’s house party, and before breakfast.

  “Fast horses,” he muttered to Vaughn, turning with him to stride toward the stables. He felt ill, as he had not felt ill in weeks. “‘Twas Miss Harvey’s future, was it not?” And he thought his own looked more than bleak.

  What Marian recalled of their confrontation was her desire to hurt him. Yet the pain had been her own, and it had lingered-beyond any remembrance of what she had said and even past another week in town.

  Rebecca Harvey’s elopement had given Marian every excuse to urge a precipitous departure from Aldersham and Kent. Edgar had been equally eager to leave the scene, his pride in eclipse after Becca’s perceived betrayal. He had accompanied Marian and Katie in returning early to London, leaving Lady Formsby to counsel her friend Lady Adeline as best she might and for as many days as she felt necessary.

  Their carriage trip back had been made at a rapid pace and all in a day. Yet even at that spanking speed, Mr. Harvey and Lord Sidley had preceded them to town, where Becca Harvey’s marriage to Mr. Mopes by special license had instantly been all the talk. The hasty London wedding had only partly allayed the Harveys’ fears. For Linton Mopes was widely deemed a poor bargain, an acknowledged fortune hunter who had succeeded, at last, in obtaining a prize.

  The marriage had placed Mrs. Harvey at the core of the very gossip she relished, but Marian’s sympathies were still with her and her shocked husband, who had wished much better for their adored only child. Though she had grown keenly aware of the vagaries of attraction, Marian still could not understand Becca’s choice. One might, she supposed, be ready to wed another on the basis of several weeks’ acquaintance. But surely a person of sense did not break every other commitment to family, friends, and society?

  I am become narrow-minded, she thought to herself, and she concentrated on her painting of Edith’s garden. She had been excused from class that day, as the rest were to draw from a male model. Marian had resigned herself to the exclusion, for Edith had finally returned from Aldersham very late the night before. As Marian had not seen Edith in almost a week, she was curious to hear if Lord Sidley had confessed his ruse to Lady Adeline-and if the TinckneyDwights had been similarly enlightened.

  She wished as well to discuss William. She knew that ending her engagement would prompt a desire for an explanation; the change also burdened her with seeking an extension of her stay with the Formsby family. She anticipated that she must return to Brinford at some point, since she could not spend the rest of her days with her cousins. But perhaps, and most contrarily, for what little time she remained in town, she might at least occasionally glimpse Lord Sidley …

  “Do come inside now, Marian. The sun is too high,” Edith called. She stood shading her eyes at the open door to the terrace.

  Marian, shielded by a slouchy, soft-brimmed country hat, smiled at her. “I shall come directly,” she promised. She quickly cleaned her brushes. Leaving her easel at its spot in the garden, she collected her canvas and the rest of her supplies.

  In the shadows just inside the door to the drawing room, Lord Sidley stood watching her as she entered.

  “Allow me, Miss Ware,” he said pleasantly, reaching to take the paint box from her hand. Though he managed to collect part of her burden, Marian pulled back sharply.

  “I ran into Sidley at Jackson’s this morning and asked him by,” Edgar told her loftily.

  Marian scarcely heard him, though she was aware that several other people stood within the drawing roomKatie and Edith and Lord Benjamin. Sidley’s face was still in shadow, or else her eyes had not adjusted from the brightness out-of-doors. Impatiently she swept her practical, unfashionable hat from her head, immediately regretting her action when he smiled at her.

  “Where should you like these, Miss Ware?” he asked.

  She did not answer him but walked with her canvas across the room and out into the hall. She propped her painting against the wall at the foot of the stairs, then reached to take her supplies from him.

  “Your utter gall . . ” she began under her breath.

  “I was invited,” he countered calmly. “And I must speak with you”

  She dared then to meet his eyes. In the past she would have gauged his look sincere; she would have found the only problem to be with the rapid beat of her heart. But now she did not trust him.

  She marched back into the drawing room. Accepting a glass of lemonade from Edith, she settled herself on an exceedingly narrow settee. That Sidley chose to sit next to her, though there really wasn’t room, set her teeth on edge.

  “This is cozy,” he remarked softly. “Perhaps you have already forgiven me?”

  His smile inf
uriated her. She shifted as far away from him as possible, though her skirts still brushed his boot.

  “Lord Sidley has brought us some surprising news, Marian!” Katie said. “Miss TinckneyDwight has accepted a proposal of marriage from Mr. Poole.” Katie was beaming.

  Marian had no doubt as to why. With both Becca and Delia removed from contention for Sidley’s favors, Katie must anticipate an offer at any moment. Marian could not help but look to Sidley.

  “‘Twas indeed a surprise, Miss Ware,” he conceded. “Even last week I had thought Dicky’s interest fixed on you.”

  “Mr. Poole is a gentleman,” she countered sharply. “He knew me to be engaged”

  The small smile in answer to that incensed her.

  “Sir Philip seems as happy about the match as Dicky and Miss Delia,” he said. “After all, their temperaments are well suited. And as neither needs to marry, one can assume them more than content”

  “You are quite the matchmaker, my lord,” Marian said shortly.

  “D’you think so? My recent house party will certainly be renowned.”

  “You must not feel you are to blame, Lord Sidley,” Edith said. “Your aunt told me she had made up the guest list.”

  “Just so, ma’am.” Sidley nodded to her. “Lady Adeline confesses to playing Cupid. I certainly had no such intention.”

  “Far from it!” Lord Benjamin offered. “If anything-”

  “You must tell us, Benny, of your decision,” Sidley prompted quickly. “Lord Benjamin is joining the 10th Regiment of Dragoons-the Hussars”

  “Are you?” Edgar asked, with more interest and courtesy than he had ever shown Lord Benjamin during their feud over Becca Harvey.

  “It should put me out of the petticoat line for some time, I imagine, Formsby,” Benny conceded with a laugh.

  And while the purchase of a commission was the center of discussion, Sidley rose to his feet.