by Jane Ashford
As he spoke, Gwendeline suddenly recognized him. It was Mr. Horton, utterly transformed. “I’m well, thank you,” she replied. “I hope you are also enjoying your customary good health.”
“Tolerable good,” he said, flicking an imaginary speck of dust from the sleeve of his coat. “I’ve been fagged to death by constant demands that I attend this rout or that dinner party. I declare I haven’t spent an evening at home in weeks. So many of the hostesses insist they cannot do without me.”
Gwendeline murmured something. “You must miss your evening reading.”
Mr. Horton sighed. “Prodigiously. So fatiguing, you know. I often long for a quiet dinner alone and my books. Ah, you must excuse me.” He gestured toward the far corner of the room, making sure Gwendeline saw the young lady signaling him to approach. “The heart calls.” He laid his hand dramatically on his breast. “And I must obey.”
“Of course,” Gwendeline replied, trying to control her twitching lips. “Don’t let me keep you.” Mr. Horton turned and minced away, and Gwendeline allowed herself to smile.
“Your erstwhile suitor has changed a good deal,” said Lord Merryn, joining her. Gwendeline jumped, and her heart began to beat very fast. She turned to him, looking up into his face. The earl looked magnificent. His coat and pantaloons were black, and this color accentuated the auburn of his hair and lightness of his gray eyes. There were touches of silver in his white silk waistcoat, and his cravat was a miracle of deceptive simplicity. He had no need of padding or ornaments to look splendid. “Yes,” she replied. “I hardly knew him at first.”
Returning her smile, he said, “Mr. Horton has blossomed in these past weeks. And found someone most willing to hear his addresses, I believe, as I told you he would.” He nodded toward the corner where Horton and Alicia Holloway were deep in conversation.
“He made sure to let me see.” She took a deep breath. “Several things have changed since I’ve been in London. I haven’t yet properly congratulated you on your new state. We saw the notice in the Morning Post while still in Penwyn.” Gwendeline paused, then went on daringly. “Miss Brown was much surprised. We—she had no notion you were planning such a step.”
“Didn’t she? Alas, one doesn’t plan such events, does one? They seem to order themselves.”
Gwendeline looked down. “I suppose so.”
Lord Merryn watched her for a moment, amusement, admiration, and something else, more elusive, in his expression. When Gwendeline looked up again, he said, “Since Miss Brown is so concerned about me, you must fulfill your promise at last and make us known to each other.”
“That’s right. You haven’t met. It seems so strange.” She looked around the room. “There she is, sitting by the wall. Oh dear, she’s not talking with anyone.” They started across the room. “Miss Brown dislikes playing duenna and going into society.”
“Does she?” replied the earl. “Well, I’m sure my mother would be happy to fill that position.”
“No,” Gwendeline said. “I prefer… That is, it’s good for Brown.” They approached this lady, who stood. “Lord Merryn, Miss Brown,” Gwendeline continued.
“How do you do,” said Lord Merryn. “I’ve tried to make your acquaintance for some time.”
“How do you do,” answered Miss Brown. “I’m happy to meet the man who has been so kind to Gwendeline and, indirectly, to me.”
The earl bowed. “Gwendeline tells me that you’re not fond of gatherings like this.”
Miss Brown directed a sharp look at her charge. “It’s true I prefer more quiet pursuits. I was never good at idle talk.”
“Few worthy people are,” replied the earl. “I dislike it myself.” He smiled. “But you’ll find the skill easy to acquire, I’m sure.”
“Perhaps,” said Miss Brown, doubtfully.
Gracefully, the earl turned the subject. “I understand that you both made an exalted acquaintance during your absence. Indeed, Gwendeline, we’ve been much impressed at his praise of your artistic abilities. You…”
“Here you are,” a voice broke in. “I’ve been looking everywhere.” Adele Greene stopped beside Lord Merryn and took his arm. “You must come meet my aunt. She’s in London for a short time and eager to make your acquaintance.”
The earl raised his eyebrows. “I’ll be along in a moment. As you see, I’m talking with Miss Gregory and her friend, Miss Brown.”
“Yes. How do you do, Miss Gregory. I’m pleased to see you back in London.” Adele did not sound pleased. “You must come, Alex. My aunt is very particular about these matters.” The earl’s jaw tightened.
“I was just going to speak to Lillian Everly,” said Gwendeline. “Shall we go?” she asked Miss Brown, who nodded.
“I hope we can talk at greater length on some other occasion, Miss Brown,” said Merryn. “I’m pleased to have met you at last.”
“Thank you,” said Miss Brown. She nodded to Adele, who ignored her, and went with Gwendeline across the room.
“How tiresome,” they heard Adele remark as they walked away. “Do come along now.”
As they joined the group around Lillian, Miss Brown expressed shock at Adele’s poor manners. For her part, Gwendeline was surprised by the sight of Lord Merryn being ordered about in such a way. Could he love Adele, she wondered. She had found herself close to hating Adele Greene during the last few minutes. What was to be done?
“You seem very far away tonight,” Lillian said to her.
“I am thoughtful, I suppose,” Gwendeline replied.
“Talking with Lord Merryn and Adele is enough to make anyone think. About never marrying, I should say. Do you know, they say there is betting at the clubs on how long it will last. And everyone has his own explanation of how it came about. Adele’s appearance, family, and fortune are all passable; indeed, her fortune is excellent. But they are not such as to attract The Unattainable. Speculation is rampant.”
Gwendeline shrugged miserably, and Lillian’s eyes narrowed. A new idea appeared to strike her, and she surveyed Gwendeline. “Even if Lord Merryn has simply decided it’s time he married, why choose Adele? No one can credit it.”
Gwendeline was saved from replying by the belated arrival of Madame Carrini amid voluble Italian apologies and crowds of retainers. Conversation was lost in the flurry to set up the music stand and get the guests seated.
Gwendeline hardly heard the music when it finally began. Her mind was busy and her emotions uncertain. When there was a pause in the entertainment, she found Miss Brown and left early. She’d had enough excitement, she thought, for one evening.
Fifteen
Late the next morning, as Gwendeline sat in her drawing room mending some lace, she regretted accepting so many invitations for the coming weeks. Her enjoyment of the party last night had been quite spoilt by Adele Greene, and she had no doubt that would continue to be the case. What was needed, she thought, was a plan of action. She must do something. She looked out the window for several long minutes; no thought came to her. What could she possibly do?
Reeves entered the room. “Miss Adele Greene,” the butler announced.
Gwendeline looked up in astonishment. It really was Adele. She stood before Gwendeline, looking very smart in a gold walking dress lavishly trimmed with yellow ribbons. “I can’t stay long,” she said, seating herself on the edge of one of the armchairs. “I’m on my way to Bond Street for a fitting.” She lifted her chin. “My wedding clothes, you know.”
Gwendeline merely nodded.
Adele appeared nervous, and this made Gwendeline feel more relaxed. “I wished to speak with you alone,” her visitor said, “about Lord Merryn.” Adele opened her reticule and took out a crumpled sheet of paper. “I received this in this morning’s post,” she said, smoothing it. “It isn’t signed.” She didn’t offer the page to Gwendeline. “Of course, one should pay no attention to such things, but I
couldn’t help wondering, and I decided finally to ask whether it’s true.” She stopped, and there was a short silence.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” said Gwendeline. “Do you intend to show me this letter?”
“No! I mean, perhaps. I’m not sure.”
Gwendeline frowned at her.
“It says that Lord Merryn is supporting you,” Adele said. “That he gave you this house and an income to live on.”
Gwendeline was at first taken aback, then a little angry. This was none of Adele’s business. Or, if she was to marry him, perhaps it was. “A group of my father’s friends provided for me, Lord Merryn was among them.”
“That’s what the letter said you would answer,” Adele cried. “That’s exactly what it says, that you would try to fob me off with such a story.” She crumpled the paper into her bag again. “So it is true then. But I’ve come to tell you that you can’t interfere with my engagement.” She glared at Gwendeline. “I don’t understand your position with Lord Merryn, and I don’t care to, but there is nothing you can do.” She sounded very certain. “It’s settled; I shall be Countess of Merryn. It won’t be broken off.”
Gwendeline rose from her seat on the sofa. “I cannot conceive why you came to tell me this. But I think you should go now.” She started to ring for Reeves.
“He speaks of you to others,” Adele replied almost wildly. “He was nearly distracted when you ran away. He has given you a house. Why are you no longer with his mother? Did she find you out?” At Gwendeline’s outraged look, she jumped up, clutching her reticule. “It doesn’t matter. That’s what I came to say. I shall marry him. You can’t spoil things. It’s settled.”
Gwendeline rang for Reeves. Though she was trembling, she kept herself under control. “Reeves,” she said when the butler entered, “Miss Greene is just going.”
Adele had recovered her composure. She bowed slightly to Gwendeline. “I’m very certain of what I’ve said,” she added and swept from the room.
When she was gone, Gwendeline sank back and took several deep breaths. Her hands trembled. What had Adele meant by saying that the earl “could not break it off”? Lord Merryn was a thorough gentleman, of course, and would not willingly do such a thing to a lady, but “could not”?
And who had sent Adele the letter? Gwendeline’s frown deepened. She had realized by now that most people assumed Lady Merryn was the source of her income, and she’d been content to have it so, for it was the easier and more proper explanation. Would Adele now spread her version of the story? The fact that Gwendeline had moved from Lady Merryn’s house might lend credence to it. She flushed scarlet suddenly. Even the thought of living on the bounty of a man she secretly loved made Gwendeline ready to sink.
She thought of Sir Humphrey. Should she go to him again and ask that he allow the truth to be published? But she doubted that he would agree. Abruptly, she realized that Sir Humphrey had never said outright that he was helping her. Gwendeline went cold. In fact, he’d seemed rather befuddled. At the time, she had put his behavior down to surprise and diffidence about revealing his charity, but what if that was wrong? Gwendeline wrung her hands. She could go to him again to make sure, but Lord Merryn had spoken to him long since. What had he said?
Gwendeline sat back on the sofa. It came to her that Adele wasn’t likely to spread this rumor, since it involved her fiancé and might cause a scandal about him. She took a further breath. Nothing had really changed then.
But the small doubt that had begun to grow would not be silenced. Gwendeline got up and began to pace. If Lord Merryn was supporting her and she found out, she’d be forced to leave London and this house and find some other means of living. And she would also be obliged to cut all connection with the earl, for he would have put her in such a compromising position that the only recourse would be a complete break. She didn’t think she could bear that.
The train of thought had taken only a moment, and Gwendeline’s decision came as quickly. She would do nothing overt. But for herself, she must know the truth. And if it turned out that the earl was indeed her sole supporter… She paused here and looked wide-eyed at the wall. Well, she would decide what to do about that when the time came.
In the meantime, she told herself firmly, she must draw even farther away from the St. Audleys. She mustn’t depend so heavily on them or see them so often. It would be good for her to deal with her own problems instead.
Just as Gwendeline came to this decision, Miss Brown hurried into the drawing room. She stopped near the doorway, looking perplexed. “Reeves told me that Miss Greene had called. I came as quickly as I could, thinking you might want my help in the conversation. Has she gone so soon?”
Gwendeline nodded. “Her visit was short, if not pleasant.”
“Was she rude to you? I wonder why she visited here?”
Gwendeline described the events of a few minutes past to the older woman. “I hardly knew what to say to her. Who would write such a letter?”
Miss Brown shook her head. She appeared both shocked and puzzled. “Some malicious person who has unearthed half-truths and wishes to stir up trouble, I suppose. Shockingly vulgar and hurtful. And Miss Greene’s actions were impertinent, though I can see why the letter worried her. How fortunate that you know its falsehood already and can shrug off such base insinuations.”
“Yes,” agreed Gwendeline uneasily. She almost told Miss Brown of her new doubts, but something stopped her. “Anonymous letters are beneath notice. Even I know that.”
“Yes, but it must be quite horrid to receive one.”
“I suppose so. But if she’s so certain that the engagement cannot be broken off, why should she attend to it?”
Miss Brown shrugged. “I have no idea. How any young lady could speak of her engagement in such a fashion I do not know.”
“Her remarks about Lord Merryn were most curious.”
Miss Brown shook her head. “Just don’t allow yourself to, well, to hope too much, Gwendeline.”
Gwendeline looked at her, then nodded.
They were sitting in silence when Reeves returned to the room, wearing his most stiffly disapproving look. Gwendeline prepared herself for some further unpleasantness. “Alphonse insists on speaking to you,” he said.
“Oh dear, has Michael been careless again? Or the greengrocer?”
“No miss, there have been no untoward events in the kitchen since your return.”
“I see. Well, ask Alphonse to come up.”
Reeves went out, and a few minutes later the chef hurried into the room. He appeared even more excited than usual as he stood before them. “Good morning, Alphonse,” said Gwendeline. “You wished to speak with me?”
“Yes, mademoiselle. I have something of the most important to say. It is the, the affair of the heart, you comprehend.” Alphonse clutched his chest dramatically.
Gwendeline looked at Miss Brown. “But why discuss that with me?” she asked the little man. “Do you have some problem?”
“Oh no, mademoiselle, no problem,” he replied. “I only wish to ask your permission to marry Miss Ellen.”
Gwendeline looked again at Miss Brown for enlightenment, but this lady was also taken aback, it seemed. “You want my permission to marry Ellen, my maid?” Gwendeline said finally.
“Yes, mademoiselle.” Alphonse waved his arms about. “She is the most beautiful, charmante young lady I have ever known. I am bouleversé.”
“What did Ellen say when you asked her?”
“Oh, I have not asked her yet,” replied Alphonse. “I hope that you will do it. Everything must be comme il faut, you understand.”
“I?” Gwendeline gazed at her chef, bemused. “But isn’t that up to you?”
“Ah, mademoiselle,” said Alphonse sadly. “I am so very shy, you see.” The two ladies exchanged incredulous glances. “I cannot do it, en fai
t.”
“But Alphonse,” began Gwendeline.
“Oh, mademoiselle,” he broke in, clasping his hands before him, “she would attend to you. She would consider. Me, she laughs.” He shrugged elaborately. “I do not comprehend these Anglaises.”
“Well, I suppose I could speak to Ellen,” Gwendeline said doubtfully.
Alphonse grabbed one of her hands and kissed it. “Oh, thank you, Miss Gwendeline. I will be so grateful. You will see. I will…I will cook for you the masterpieces.”
“Don’t get too excited, Alphonse. I’ll tell Ellen what you’ve said. I can make no guarantee of her response.”
“No, but if you ask her, mademoiselle, she will listen. I know it.” Alphonse clasped his hands together in joy.
“All right, Alphonse, you may go. Ask Reeves to send Ellen in.”
The small man stopped in midstride. “I cannot.” He shrugged. “She is out.”
“Is she? Well, I’ll speak to her later then.”
“Oh, thank you, mademoiselle, thank you.” Bowing and smiling, Alphonse left the room.
Gwendeline turned to Miss Brown with raised eyebrows. “What do you think of that?”
“I had no idea romance was afoot, I must admit,” she replied.
Gwendeline nodded. “I wonder if Ellen knows anything about it? I wager she doesn’t.”
Miss Brown agreed. “I’d like to see her face when you tell her.”
“Why did I agree to do so? But it will have to be later.”
Gwendeline was invited to Lady Merryn’s that afternoon for a chat and tea. The countess was eager for a talk, and even Gwendeline’s resolve to see less of the St. Audleys couldn’t stand against her pleas.
She found Lady Merryn in her study, busily writing at her desk, surrounded as usual by piles of papers. But she looked up immediately when Gwendeline entered and greeted her affectionately. “I’m answering letters,” she said. “Many people have written me about the novel, you know. No one ever did about the others. And, Gwendeline, you would be astonished at the number who are convinced that it is about them alone! I’m quite determined to write only modern novels after this. But how good it is to see you. Come into the drawing room for a chat.”