Mr. Carson looked past her at Julian. “Thank you for making this fortuitous introduction.”
“My pleasure,” Julian muttered, sounding as though it had been anything other than a pleasure.
What has come over him so suddenly?
“Miss Elizabeth.” Mr. Carson bowed over her hand. “It has truly been a joy speaking with you.” He looked over at Mary. “Miss Gillerford, it has been... as it always is.”
Elizabeth watched Mr. Carson as he set his horse to a slow trot away from the carriage and disappeared into the press of people gathering in the park. She liked him. He had a sense of humor quite similar to Julian’s and a kindness about him that she admired. For a moment she imagined Mr. Carson, married, and calling on her and Julian in their home, an abiding friendship growing between all of them.
She’d entertained daydreams of that sort for years, even during that long-ago time when she’d thought the only obstacle to her imagined happiness was Mary. She’d realized in more recent years that Julian had as little interest in courting Mary as he did in courting her. She hadn’t lost her dearest love to her sister; she’d simply never had his love in the first place.
“I am firmly on the verge of throttling Mary Gillerford.” Julian paced once more the length of his sister’s sitting room.
“You have been on the verge of throttling her for ten years, Julian,” Helene reminded him.
“Yes, but now she has gone beyond simply leeching the life out of me. She is attacking Beth, and doing so in public.” He stopped at the mantle, tapping his finger on its edge. “Mary insulted her on the way to the park yesterday. She made sly comments about her to nearly every person we spoke with. And, as if she’d not done a thorough enough job of it, she spent a full quarter of an hour afterward criticizing Beth’s conduct, her dress, her conversation, everything she could think of.”
Helene set her sewing on her lap. “Mary’s unkindness is the reason she has not had a single suitor despite being in her third Season. She, of course, insists that the real reason is being already promised to you.”
Julian’s jaw tensed on the instant. “I do not know what our parents were thinking, encouraging that idea all of these years. I have certainly never been in favor of it. Intelligent men dream of more noble deaths than being nagged into an early grave.”
“That, we do.” His brother-in-law, Robert Pinnelle, stepped inside at that exact moment. “And we choose our wives accordingly.” He greeted Helene with an affectionate kiss on the cheek then sat beside her.
“I am so pleased you’ve come in,” she said, “as I have had an absolutely brilliant idea and need you to extol its virtues shamelessly.”
“What is this brilliant idea?”
“As you well know, I have not hosted a dinner party in weeks.”
“Do I know that?” He clearly didn’t.
“Of course you do, love. After the last one, you told me, whilst you were kissing me, how much you’d enjoyed the evening.”
That was a touch more information than Julian had bargained for.
“I remember the kissing part,” Robert said.
Helene continued as though Robert were keeping up perfectly. “I must have guests over again. I am simply bereft of company.”
“I know it is my duty to agree with you wholeheartedly,” Robert said. “And yet I can’t help feeling a little insulted.”
“You know perfectly well what I meant. You do not always attend functions with me, and you are so often gone during the day doing your important things. This house— indeed, this city— is so lonely without you.”
Julian jumped in once more. “That is quite a boon to your pride, old man. All of London is not companion enough for her without you.”
“As I said, an intelligent gentleman chooses his wife wisely.”
Helene tossed them both looks of sorely tried patience. “Neither of you is allowing me to share my brilliant idea, and I think it is very badly done of you.”
“My apologies, dearest,” Robert said. “Do tell us your idea.”
Apparently mollified, Helene continued. “I mean to invite the Gillerfords for a small dinner gathering, and I mean to insist that Miss Elizabeth Gillerford be included in the invitation.”
Brilliant indeed! Julian’s heart lightened at the thought. Beth would have reason to leave her house once more, even if she was required to do so in the company of her irksome family.
“Gillerford?” Robert’s brow drew in. “The family who are neighbors of your family in Surrey?”
“The very same,” Helene confirmed.
“Hold a moment.” Robert held up a hand. “Isn’t their daughter the one with the crazed look in her eyes?”
“I do not believe I have ever heard Mary described so precisely.” After taking a moment to ponder that fitting turn of phrase a little more deeply, Helene continued her explanation. “Mary, the older sister, is the frenzied one whom everybody avoids like an eel pie on a hot summer’s day. Miss Elizabeth is the younger sister, and is a lovely person with very civilized eyes.”
Robert’s ponderous gaze landed on Julian. “Aren’t you supposed to marry one of these sisters? I am certain your mother said something about that.”
Julian shook his head in disbelief and took up pacing once again. He ought to simply flee Town before Mary’s claws were lodged even further into him. But that would mean abandoning Beth to her family’s unkindness.
“Mrs. Carson told me that her son met Miss Elizabeth just yesterday and mentioned her quite a few times last evening,” Helene said. “I believe young Mr. Carson is near enough to family to be included in the dinner.” A matchmaking gleam filled her gaze. “I believe they would get on quite famously.”
“Beth is not yet out,” Julian quickly pointed out.
Helene didn’t seem the least bothered by that information. “But she is of an age. After all, one need not have a Season to be courted.”
“Courted?” He nearly choked on the word. “How have we jumped that far already?”
Robert eyed him with blatant curiosity. “What has you wound so tightly? Carson’s your friend, as is Miss Elizabeth.”
“I simply do not think that they would suit each other.” He was pacing again. Something about the suggestion of Beth and Damion making a match of it did not sit well in his mind.
“Nonsense. They would be perfect together.” Helene met her husband’s eyes. “They really would be.”
“It is settled then.” Robert lifted his wife’s hand to his lips. “Extend your invitation to the Gillerfords and Mr. Carson, and let my secretary know the date of your party so I can make absolutely certain I do not miss it.”
Helene hopped to her feet, her eyes brimming with anticipation. “I shall make my list immediately.”
“I am on that list as well, aren’t I?” Julian called after her. He received no answer.
I had better be on that list.
Chapter Four
Elizabeth watched out the carriage windows as one grand house after another passed by. Helene’s invitation had been nothing short of a godsend.
“But why should Elizabeth be asked?” Mary demanded to know for the hundredth time. “She is not yet out. First the park, and now this. It is utter nonsense.”
Mother patted Mary’s hand. “Mr. Pinnelle is a man of tremendous importance; your father told me as much, though he was unaccountably vague about the reasons for Mr. Pinnelle’s consequence. We must make a good impression on him, as I do not believe he has taken much notice of our family.”
“Besides all that,” Mother continued, “Helene has known Elizabeth all her life and likely feels some obligation to include her, even if she would not normally do so.”
Elizabeth didn’t care if Helene had sent for her out of pity, and was simply grateful for yet another temporary escape from her imprisonment. Julian, no doubt, had found a way to make this evening happen.
“Do you suppose Pinnelle House has a library?” she asked no one in particul
ar.
“I certainly hope you do not mean to embarrass the family while we are there,” Mother said. “Reading when you are supposed to be socializing with the other guests.”
“But then, she is not out,” Mary said. “Perhaps it would be best if she didn’t socialize.”
The carriage pulled up at just that moment. They had arrived. Elizabeth bit back a grin of delight. A single evening’s entertainment was not precisely a dream come true, but it was a taste of freedom. The anticipation of it was nearly her undoing. Somehow she maintained her composure right up until the moment Julian himself met them at the front door.
“Ladies,” he greeted.
Mother and Mary executed perfect curtsies.
Elizabeth clapped her hands together and exclaimed, “Oh, Julian, this is the most wonderful thing.”
He smiled at her antics, as always.
Mother, also as always, was horrified. “Elizabeth! I certainly hope you know better than to address a gentleman so intimately.”
“I have called him by his Christian name all his life.” Yes, she was in the wrong, but the promise of the evening had made her rather bold.
Julian stepped near her side. “Actually, I believe you generally called me Jules during our childhoods.”
“Mother would simply love that, now wouldn’t she?” Elizabeth said.
He lowered his voice, his gaze lingering a moment on her face. “I would love that, which ought to count for something.”
Something in his expression, in his closeness, left her quite upended. She covered her confusion with a quick change of topics. “Did you arrange for all of this?”
“It was Helene’s idea.” He motioned toward the doorway through which they were all to step. “But I will happily take credit. I did promise to help you escape your imprisonment, after all.”
“You did, and I expect you to make my evening away as pleasant as possible.”
Her teasing didn’t have its usual effect. Rather than meet her jest for jest, he simply watched her more closely. He looked as though he was searching for the answer to some unspoken question.
Helene approached them, arms outstretched to take Elizabeth’s hands. “My dear, old friend,” she said. “I am so pleased you were able to come this evening. I feel as though we have not seen each other in ages.”
“Thank you for the invitation.”
Helene shook her head. “None of that. We are nearly family, after all.” She hooked her arm around Elizabeth’s and, without ceremony, walked with her further into the elegant drawing room. Almost as an afterthought, she glanced over her shoulder at Mother and Mary. “And you are, of course, most welcome as well.”
“We always feel most welcome amongst your family.” Mary latched onto the words like a terrier pulling a fox from its den. Her eyes quickly turned to Julian. “We are practically family, as your sister said. Or soon will be, at least.”
Elizabeth fought to keep her expression neutral. If she laughed, her family would make her life a misery for the rest of the evening and beyond. That would be a shame and a waste of a once in a lifetime— she very much feared lifetime wasn’t an exaggeration— opportunity.
Julian kept a noticeable distance without being outright rude. “I see Mr. Gillerford was not able to join us this evening. Is he... at his club?”
“Father is indisposed this evening,” Elizabeth said. “Gout being the persistent monster that it is.”
“Elizabeth Mildred.” Mother looked horrified. “A lady does not use the word ‘gout’ in public.”
“At least I didn’t say ‘Jules,’” she muttered.
If the sudden combination of coughing and clearing his throat was any indication, Julian overheard.
Helene invited Elizabeth to the settee near the low-burning fire. Despite not being the coldest part of the year, the weather had been unfortunately damp and overly cool. Helene had ever been kind, but there seemed to be a pointedness to her attentions.
Julian saw Mother and Mary seated in the sofa facing the settee, and then, to Mary’s obvious shock, he chose to sit beside Elizabeth.
“This is not the way to win Mary’s affection,” she warned.
“Is it not?” He didn’t look worried. “What is the way, then?”
“The key, my friend, is opera.”
Julian eyed her questioningly. “She will fall madly in love with me if I attend the opera with her?”
Elizabeth shook her head solemnly. “She will fall hopelessly and irrevocably in love with you if you sing opera to her. All the time. No words, only singing.”
He leaned a touch nearer. “You have heard me sing, Beth.”
She pretended to think deeply about that. “Actually, I believe I meant that if you sing to her every day you will prevent her from falling in love with you. Yes. That’s what I meant.”
“Excellent. I will never speak to her again.” He sat up straight once more. “Helene’s dinner will be ruined and that, my dear Beth, will make my evening an utter delight.”
“I will do my utmost not to embarrass you or her.”
“That sounds like Mary talking, and I will not stand for it.” His was not an entirely joking tone. “You have never embarrassed me, not even when you were little and followed my friends and me all over the neighborhood while we were home on school holiday. Not then. Not now.”
Not being embarrassed by her was a few too many steps away from loving her, but it was at least inching in the right direction.
A quick knock at the door announced the arrival of another guest. Elizabeth knew only that it would not be her brother, as Gregory was in the country, enjoying a quiet stay at the family’s estate.
“Who else has Helene invited?” she asked Julian.
“Damion,” he said.
“Your friend from the park? But why have you not gone to greet him as you did us?”
He folded his arms across his chest. “Damion is a grown man. He can find his own way inside.”
Julian seemed to have been seized by a case of the doldrums. It had often been her task to tease him out of a difficult mood. So she took it upon herself to do so again.
“Are you calling me an incapable infant?”
He didn’t take the bait. Instead, he watched his friend’s entrance with precisely the look Elizabeth had always imagined Hamlet had given his uncle after piecing together the older man’s role in the late king’s death.
“What has Mr. Carson done to earn your wrath?” she asked.
Julian slumped a bit lower on the settee. “He accepted Helene’s invitation to come tonight.”
Damion, having stepped inside, seemed to sense Julian’s glare of death, and, oddly enough, appeared surprised by it. Whatever complaint Julian had with his friend, the feeling was not mutual. As Damion made his bows to the ladies and Mr. Pinnelle, his gaze continually returned to Julian. After a moment, he came and stood near the settee.
“Miss Elizabeth, a pleasure to see you again.”
“And you, Mr. Carson.” Though Elizabeth didn’t think of herself as slow-witted, she did have an unfortunate tendency to let her mouth run away at times when she ought to hold her tongue. “Perhaps, sir, you would be so good as to tell me why our friend here”— she indicated Julian with a brief wave of her hand— “is in such a sour mood this evening.”
“Elizabeth,” Mother hissed.
But Damion did not appear shocked by her lack of demureness. “I would wager his mood was perfectly pleasant whilst only the two of you were conversing.” The devilish glint in his eye brought a smile to her face.
“Very perceptive, Mr. Carson. Though that means you are the culprit behind his disgruntlement.”
“It would appear so.” He made a bow to Julian. “Am I to expect pistols at dawn?”
Julian allowed the smallest softening of his expression. “I haven’t decided yet.”
Elizabeth was happy to see something of his usual cheeriness return, but she didn’t like to see him act so unlike himself. She
set a hand on his. “Are you feeling unwell, Jules?”
Mary quite suddenly appeared at her side. “Take a turn about the room with me, dearest sister.” The request was made through clenched teeth; Elizabeth knew better than to deny her in such cases.
Mary pulled Elizabeth’s arm through hers and dragged her away. They’d only moved a handful of steps from the group before Mary launched into a harshly whispered rebuke. “You are acting far too familiar with the gentlemen, Elizabeth. You are embarrassing us all.”
Julian had said quite the opposite.
Mary squeezed her arm harder, and a little painfully. “If this is the way you behave in Society, it is little wonder you’ve not been given a Season.”
“I rather think you are demonstrating the reason far more clearly than I am.”
Mary’s steps fumbled a moment. “I suspect I should be offended.”
“Never mind.” Elizabeth had no desire to spend her one and only dinner party arguing with her sister. “I will do my utmost to be well behaved.”
“See that you do.” Mary’s possessive gaze settled on Julian. “I believe Julian means to press his suit tonight.”
“Do you?”
“Why else would he be acting so skittish? The dear man is nervous.”
Elizabeth was certain that Mary was not at all the reason for his behavior, though she couldn’t quite decipher the real one. Perhaps Julian had realized Mary’s expectations for the evening and was unhappy at the prospect of spending the night dodging her efforts to force a courtship. That very well might be precisely the cause of his sour mood. Fortunately, Elizabeth could help with that predicament. She’d acted as a buffer between her sister and Julian many times over the years; she could certainly do so again.
“I believe I will further my acquaintance with Mr. Carson,” Mary said firmly, pulling them both back in the direction of the other guests. “Being on friendly terms with the closest friend of one’s intended is crucial, after all.”
Poor Damion. “Will you not be stretched a bit thin, paying attention to two gentlemen? And you would do well to not neglect your hostess, either.”
That brought Mary’s glare back around. “Do not presume to tell me how to conduct myself in Society. I know more of it than you ever will.”
Sarah M. Eden British Isles Collection (A Timeless Romance Anthology Book 15) Page 20