The Spanish Lady

by Joan Smith

  After he had mentally selected a dozen other harmless souls, there remained only to choose the inn to provide dinner. The inn would make the bathing arrangements. Severn would not join the bathing. He would stay on the beach with blankets and a thermos of the coffee Helena liked so much, to assist the others when they came, shivering, from the water.

  Severn went to his mama’s room to discuss his plans with her the next morning before going downstairs. She was pleased to see him and urged him on with the best will in the world.

  “Do it, before she decides she wants to be a duchess.”

  “I shall take the engagement ring to Hamlet this very day to have it cleaned. Or have one of the footmen do it for me, as it is a little out of my way.”

  This offhand speech denoted something less than the proper pitch of infatuation. “You are in love with her, Edward?”

  “Of course, Mama. It is just that I have an important meeting this morning.”

  “Oh, dear, you sound just like your papa. I am happy to see you becoming serious, Edward, but don’t become too serious.”

  His smile was as carefree as ever. “Small danger of that.”

  He went downstairs and broached his scheme to Helena over breakfast. “We must repay Rutledge for his hospitality. As he seemed interested in this trip to Brighton, and you, I think, agreed, it seemed proper for me to host the party.”

  His plan found approval at once. “What a splendid idea!” Helena smiled. “But will it be to your liking, Eduardo?”

  “So long as it makes you happy,” he said.

  “I should like it, of all things. Are you sure you can be spared from Whitehall for a whole day?”

  He basked in her approval and concern. “I daresay Parliament can do without me for one day.”

  “I must notify the ladies at once. They will want to have their bathing costumes made up.”

  “I have the list here,” he said, handing it to her. With a memory of Rutledge’s largess, he added, “If you wish to ask any of your own special friends, you must feel free to do so. Just let me know the number, so that I may inform the inn. I shall take care of inviting the gentlemen.”

  She glanced down the short list. “No, I cannot think of anyone else. You have included all my special friends, Eduardo. This is very thoughtful of you.”

  “I thought we might all drive down in our curricles, except for the chaperon, of course. Mrs. Cornstock and Marion would prefer the closed carriage. Do you think you are up to handling the ribbons of my curricle, Cousin?”

  “I don’t see why not. I have handled the duke’s bloods,” she replied mischievously.

  His smile was in some danger of freezing, but with a thought of the future, Severn maintained his equanimity. He left for work that morning with a smile. Helena immediately began writing up the invitations. As the day was fine, she decided to deliver them herself. The last one to be delivered was to the Comstocks. Mrs. Comstock invited her in for a cup of tea while she and Marion checked their calendar.

  “Yes, it seems we are free of visits on that day,” Marion said. “We were tentatively promised to take tea with Allan’s aunt, but that can be put off.” This speech was accompanied by a smile that gave the name Allan a certain significance. “You heard about Allan’s great fortune?” she asked.

  “I’m not sure what Allan you refer to,” Helena replied.

  “I mean Malvern, of course. Beaufort was highly impressed with him. Allan is to be the member for one of Beaufort’s ridings in the next election. The election is a formality; he must campaign, but the outcome is assured. Meanwhile, Beaufort has taken him on as his private secretary to give him a notion how things are done in Parliament. He thinks Allan shows great promise, to judge by his salary. And after he is a member, there will be sinecures to give him a decent income.”

  “I always thought Malvern showed great promise,” Mrs. Comstock said. “He is a man of amazing ingenuity. Do you remember how he found that teapot to match my set when it got broken, Marion? So very obliging. I’m sure he must have visited a dozen shops, for the pattern was discontinued decades ago. He wouldn’t take a penny for it either.”

  “And the wheel for your carriage, Mama,” Marion added.

  “That, too. The wheeler wanted to sell me a new one at an outrageous price. Malvern got one the proper size from the carriage of a friend whose rig had overturned and was hors de combat. He even had it painted to match my carriage.”

  “I take it you have been seeing a good deal of Malvern,” Helena said. Their smirks and smiles told her the romance was on the boil and approaching a conclusion, if it had not done so already. “Are congratulations in order, Marion?”

  “Not yet,” Mrs. Comstock replied, “but he has let me know his intentions are honorable. He would like to be a part of this outing Severn has arranged. Beaufort will be happy to give him a day off, for he works him like a slave.”

  “Then may I tell Severn you three will be coming? He hoped you would join us as well, Mrs. Comstock, to play propriety.”

  “I shall be happy to go. We shall take Malvern in our rig,” she said. “It is nice to have a dependable gentleman in the carriage for such outings.”

  Helena left in a little consternation. Malvern, she knew, was anathema to Severn, but how could she deny Marion’s chosen escort? Severn would not be happy with the match, but when Mrs. Comstock was so deep in the throes of passion, it seemed unlikely Severn would have anything to say about it. In any case, Malvern seemed to be setting himself a new course. If he did not actually love Marion, he at least liked her. Marion, she felt, had enough love for them both. She was hardly the same daunting girl she had been a few weeks ago.

  As it was still early, Lady Helena decided to visit Moira to see how her romance was progressing. She would be leaving soon for the lake district, so this might be a farewell visit. Moira was alone but dressed to go out, with her pelisse and a new high poke bonnet sitting beside her on the sofa.

  “Ah, Helena. Just the lady I hoped to see,” she said, smiling from ear to ear. Her old languor and tired eyes were replaced by smiling and clear-eyed vivacity.

  “I shan’t keep you a moment, for I see you are going out.”

  “Yes, Lucy and I are going shopping.”

  “For your trip, I daresay?”

  “That has been put off, I fear. Perhaps next year.”

  As Moira had spoken of the visit with great enthusiasm, Helena wondered that she was in such good spirits at its cancellation. “I am sorry to hear it. I trust there is nothing amiss with the Everetts?”

  “Quite the contrary. The Everetts are going. Lester and I have decided to go in a different direction, to Cornwall. He says that although he has been to the continent a dozen times, he has never seen half his own country, so we are going west. What do you think of that, eh?”

  Helena thought it pretty fast behavior for the couple to be traveling alone together. “Why don’t the Everetts accompany you to Cornwall?” she asked.

  “Naughty girl! I see what you are thinking, but it is no such a thing. We are to be married first.” She wiggled her left hand, on which a small diamond sparkled.

  Helena did not have to simulate her pleasure. “I am delighted for you!” she exclaimed, and rose to hug her friend.

  “We both know someone who will not be so happy,” Moira said, with a little sigh. “I have written Algernon. I do hope he won’t take the news too hard. Anything you can do to help would be appreciated, dear. It would be a tragedy if he let Lester go. We count on his salary. Not that he could not be hired by another company, for he is an excellent salesman!”

  “Papa would not be so petty, Moira. He speaks most highly of Mr. Gagehot. When are you planning the wedding?”

  “Next Wednesday. I do hope you will come. It is to take place at two in the afternoon.

  “Where will you be married?”

  “At St. Peter’s, a little chapel near Lucy’s place, just a small wedding, but with a proper feast after. Lester and
I have been so busy fixing up the house that we haven’t time for a fancy wedding. Well, it’s the second time for us both, and it’s not quite the same as the first, is it?”

  “You’ve found a house. Do tell me about it.”

  “Lester found a little house for us on Maddox Street, just east of New Bond, so handy for shopping. The house is small, mind, but it’s not as though we’ll be setting up a nursery at our age. Solid brick, with a tidy parlor and every stitch in it brand new. Isn’t it exciting!”

  “It sounds lovely, Moira. I am so happy for you.”

  “About a wedding gift, dear, if your papa should ask what we’d like, tell him he mustn’t worry about that. Money will do just fine. I wouldn’t mention it, except that Lester was afraid he might go sending us some rare vintage sherry, as he did for his foreman in Spain. Our friends wouldn’t appreciate it, and we really don’t drink that much. Lester prefers ale for every day, and you know I hardly take a sip at all now.”

  “You are to be congratulated. I shall tell Papa not to tempt you in that respect.”

  “A pity he couldn’t know sooner, for I could use the cash. My trousseau, you know. A lady likes to have something a little special for the treacle moon.”

  Helena took the hint and wrote out a check for a hundred pounds on her papa’s behalf. It was what she thought proper for an old employee like Gagehot. She wrote down the address of the chapel and the time of the wedding, then left.

  As she drove home, it was borne in on her that several ladies of her acquaintance were tying up their future, while she still remained unsettled. She was eager to get on with finding a mate and settling down, but somehow no one she had met thus far quite pleased her. Rutledge was nice. A duke, but not what she thought of as a great man, or ever likely to be one. Perhaps Severn would do after all. He seemed to be coming down off his high horse. It was rather sweet of him to arrange this Brighton party to please her.

  She returned to tell Lady Hadley of Moira’s romance.

  “It is done!” she exclaimed. “The nuptials are announced!”

  “My dear Cousina. You mean Edward has come up to scratch! I never thought he had the gumption. Indeed I was by no means sure you would have him, for you always speak of love as well as of finding a great man. Personally I have never found the two go together. I mean to say, who could love Lord Liverpool, or any of the royal dukes, or any of the great men we have in England, come to that?”

  Helena stared in confusion. “Edward? And me? Oh, no, ma’am. You misunderstand me. I am speaking of Mrs. Petrel-Jones and Gagehot. Where did you get the idea—”

  “Oh, my dear, he has been scheming himself blue in the face to outdo Rutledge. Why do you think he set on next week for the trip to Brighton?

  “I assumed it was the only day he could get away.”

  “The first day he was sure Rutledge would be away. The Newmarket races. Edward senses stiff competition from him.”

  “Does he indeed?” Helena said through thin lips.

  “Why, he even sent the engagement ring in for cleaning, to beat Rutledge to the punch. The pièce de résistance, you see. He would have taken it himself, but he had a meeting.”

  Helena was furious with Severn. All his fine talk of repaying Rutledge’s hospitality. Severn wasn’t doing this to please her, but to put her in a good mood to accept his offer because he felt she and her fortune would be a benefit to his political career. And he did not even take the ring to be cleaned himself!

  “And did he say he was madly in love with me, ma’am?”

  “He did not say madly. But when I asked him, he said yes. I am delighted, my dear. You are not a bit Spanish, and so well dowered. Severn always looks to the balance sheet these days. It is his job to do so. Hadley will be in alt.”

  Lady Hadley’s comments put the news of Malvern’s success out of Helena’s mind. She went abovestairs to indulge in some schemes of her own. So Eduardo was scheming to attach her dowry, was he? Her first thought was to push the day of the Brighton trip forward so that Rutledge could attend. As the invitations had been issued already, however, this was impossible. The other possibility was to persuade Rutledge to postpone his departure for one day. She would ask him very nicely that evening at Mrs. Forrest’s ball.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “I have a filly running, so I really must be at Newmarket by next week,” Rutledge explained when Helena hinted that he might delay his departure. “A sweet three-year-old. She needs the experience before the derby later in the month.”

  A four-legged filly obviously took precedence over a two-legged one. Helena’s mind was easy on one score, at least. The duke was not in love with her. Her next effort to annoy Severn was to ask Malvern to stand up with her for the waltzes. Severn did not know how matters stood between Malvern and Marion.

  “Why am I honored by this sudden attention?” Malvern asked bluntly.

  “I am angry with Severn and want to teach him a lesson.”

  “That usually spells trouble for me. What are you up to, vixen?”

  She hardly knew, but she knew she wanted to make Severn angry and jealous, and if Rutledge would not oblige her, she would use Malvern. “Just repaying Severn’s own trick of pretending partiality where none exists.”

  “My better instincts urge me to inquire why you suppose he is merely pretending?”

  She tossed her curls. “Give me credit for knowing the difference, sir.”

  “Don’t go pretending to Marion we are involved in some clandestine affair. Charming as you are...” He let his words dwindle out.

  “After your hard work finding teapots and fixing wheels, you would not want to risk losing her,” she teased.

  “I would not want to lose her in any case. I happen to love the lady.” Then he smiled and added, “Or nearly love her. She grows more agreeable by the day. And I do love being treated with the consideration I find at Grosvenor Square. The Comstocks are making a man of me, Lady Helena. Don’t do anything to jeopardize it, I pray.”

  “On the contrary, I will do whatever is in my power to help. I, too, find Marion improves on acquaintance. And so do you, Allan,” she added with a smile in which flirtation was transformed to genuine fondness. “May I call you Allan?”

  “Only if you allow me to call you Helena.”

  “Please do, until you can call me Cousin.”

  Severn saw this bantering interchange and came pouncing forward to draw her away as soon as the set was over.

  “I have asked you not to encourage that scoundrel, Cousin,” he said severely.

  “The rest of society does not judge him so harshly, Severn.”

  He scowled. Helena called him Severn only when she was annoyed with him. He particularly liked to hear her call him Eduardo, in her soft Spanish way.

  “In fact,” she continued, “Malvern is in the process of being reformed. He has found a position with Beaufort and will stand for office at the next election. Why, I shouldn’t be surprised if he turns out to be one of our great men, in time.”

  “Malvern is a dubious proposition at best.”

  “Making a worldly match is no longer so important with me. I do feel, however, that with the right lady behind him, he will do very well in the world.”

  “Damn, the man’s a Tory!” he exclaimed.

  “Yes, he is with the right party to advance his career.”

  “I think you encourage the fellow only to vex me!”

  “That is the trouble with you, Severn. You always think when you should feel.” Why did he not forbid her to see Malvern? He might at least have threatened a duel, so that she could throw herself on his chest and forbid it. She strode angrily away, leaving Severn behind to ponder this development.

  A judicious question dropped here and there told him that Malvern was indeed working for Beaufort and was to stand for member soon. It was inconceivable to him that Malvern had changed his stripes for any other reason but to win Helena. He doubted the reformation would continue once he had his ha
nds on her money. And she, like a fool, was taken in by him.

  He danced with all the prettiest debs before suggesting to Helena that it was time to go home. He fully expected an argument, but she agreed at once. She met Marion in the coatroom when she went for her cape.

  “Allan told me you are unhappy with Severn,” she said. “I don’t want you using Malvern to teach him a lesson.”

  “I can teach him a lesson all by myself. He is too insufferable, Marion, pretending to care for me when his real motive is to outdo Rutledge.” She explained about the outing to Brighton.

  Marion, having suffered a few snubs from Severn in the past, was not averse to encouraging Helena. “It is your fortune Severn is after, of course,” she said, so matter-of-factly it almost sounded as if she had been told so, “but it is obvious he likes you. What is wrong in that?”

  “What is wrong is that he is not telling the truth. He is acting a lie in this Brighton affair. He actually had the engagement ring cleaned to present to me,” she said, full of indignation.

  Marion frowned. “That is rather sweet. You must remember the English are different from what you are used to, Cousin. They do not rant and rave and strut their passion, but I assure you they feel quite as deeply as the Latin races.”

  This may have been true for Malvern, but Helena doubted Severn had a passionate atom in his body. “Let us see if we can raise some vestige of it,” she said.

  “It sounds as if you are trying to make him jealous. Why bother, if you don’t care for him?”

  “I don’t care for him in the least,” Helena said angrily. “Santo Dios, do you think I could ever love that iceberg! There is no natural feeling in him. He schemes and plans everything, even his love life. Love should overwhelm a man. He should not coolly plan it all and get a ring cleaned. He should not be able to stop himself from flowing over with—” She came to a stop as she realized Marion was staring in astonishment.

  “Yes, I can see you have no feelings for him,” Marion said, with an ironic look.