The Artful Match

by Jennifer Delamere

  “Well, that’s impressive!” Langham said as Amelia confidently took the pony over a low hurdle. “I wouldn’t expect anything less, though. Not if she is Henry’s daughter. Both he and Mother are excellent riders.”

  “You are not?” Cara asked.

  He shook his head. “I prefer driving—and much too fast, according to my mother and brother.” He grinned. “But that’s what makes it exciting and therefore worth doing.”

  “Are you taking a day off from painting?” she asked, since he wore a nice suit instead of the paint-splotched clothing and boots that were his usual working attire.

  “That’s right. As the old saying goes, ‘All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.’ Besides, we have a guest coming today. Nigel is always great company.”

  “Do you mean Lord Nigel Hayward?”

  “That’s right. He sent a note proposing to visit, so I wrote back and said by all means come over. Even though Henry is gone, I saw no reason he shouldn’t come, and Mother agrees. I might even do Henry a favor and pester Nigel some more about that mining deal. Nigel likes me. Besides, Mother and I are both anxious to meet his fiancée. She’s coming with him.”

  Cara gasped. Her mind instantly went a thousand places as she tried to decide what to do.

  Langham saw her dismay. “Don’t worry, you shan’t have to play the role of governess. I’m sure that’s what my mother would like, but we’re done with that. I fully intend to introduce you to Nigel and Sarah—although I suppose for today I ought to call her Miss Needenham, even though I detest being so stuffy and formal—as our family friend.”

  “No!” Cara blurted, panic rising. “I mean, that won’t be necessary. Perhaps I’ll just stay away anyway. To, ah, make things easier. I’m sure her ladyship would prefer it, and, really, I have no objection.”

  Her words came out so stilted that Langham tilted his head and looked at her in surprise. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of my mother. I’ll lose all respect for you if that is the case.”

  “Of course not. It’s just that, well, I do think things will go better for everyone if I were absent.”

  No sooner had she spoken than they heard the sound of a carriage approaching.

  “It’s too late now,” Langham observed. “Here they are.”

  The carriage did indeed hold Miss Sarah Needenham, her aunt, and Lord Nigel. The countess made the fourth person in the carriage, which showed they must have spent time at the house before coming to the stables.

  Langham hurried over to them, calling out his greetings before the carriage wheels had even stopped. Cara, desperately wishing she was anywhere but here, brought a handkerchief to her nose, though it would only buy her a few seconds of anonymity. Caught between the urge to flee and the desire not to draw attention to herself, she decided to remain seated. She even hunched down a little in the vain hope they might forget she was there. Meanwhile, out in the ring, Amelia was so busy conquering the low jumps Mr. Hart had set up for her that she didn’t notice what was going on beyond it.

  Lord Nigel’s attention went immediately to the pony and rider even as he and Langham helped the ladies out of the carriage. He grinned in appreciation. “I had no idea Maisie was capable of such things! My little cousin did not take her through such excellent paces.”

  He and the others spent another minute watching Amelia and exclaiming over how well she was doing. Cara could feel sweat trickling down her neck as she waited for the inevitable.

  Sure enough, Langham finally said to them, “Allow me to introduce you to a family friend.”

  He turned and motioned for Cara to join them. Reluctantly, she got up from the bench. She could feel her legs shaking as she walked. She watched Sarah Needenham’s face, waiting for the recognition to set in. She hoped that when it did, Sarah might have some compassion, since the two of them had gotten along well and had not seen each other since before the incident with Robbie.

  Miss Needenham blinked several times in bewilderment and disbelief. Her expression became an angry stare when Langham said, “This is Miss Cara Bernay. She’s visiting us for a few weeks.”

  “Our normal governess was called away by a death in the family,” the countess added, clearly wanting to keep that pretense going with these new guests.

  “You can’t tell me you are acting as a governess!” Sarah’s words shot out fast and hard, startling everyone so much that they practically jumped.

  Cara took a deep breath. She kept her hands flat against her sides so that no one could see them shaking. “As Mr. Burke has noted, I am here as a friend.”

  “Do you two know each other?” Lord Nigel asked his fiancée.

  Sarah pointed an accusing finger at Cara. “This is the woman who nearly killed my brother!”

  CHAPTER

  33

  I KNEW SHE WAS TROUBLE the moment I laid eyes on her.” The countess was so livid that her face was red.

  Lord Nigel and the others had gone, their visit cut short by Sarah’s accusations and the ugly scene that had followed. But that had been nothing compared to what Cara was facing now that she and Langham were alone with the countess.

  They were in the parlor, but Lady Morestowe refused to sit down. She preferred to berate her son while standing and using furious gestures to punctuate her words. “This is why you can’t just bring people you barely know into your house. Why, she might have killed us all!”

  “What happened at the Needenhams’ was an accident! That has been clearly explained.” Knowing that Langham generally hated unpleasant altercations, Cara was grateful that in this instance he did not hesitate to answer his mother with the same fierce intensity she was leveling at him. “Cara is not a murderer. You should be ashamed even to imply it.”

  “I should be ashamed?” Lady Morestowe repeated. She pointed a finger at Cara. “You are the one who should be ashamed. Hiding your past, and worse—taking on the responsibility of looking after a child when you know you are a danger to children.”

  Cara stood speechless, engulfed in guilt. The countess’s attacks, while vicious and exaggerated, were also true.

  “Is there no way to be forgiven for past mistakes?” Langham challenged.

  “No,” the countess answered without hesitation. “Some mistakes leave an indelible mark. You heard what Miss Needenham said about her mother. She is still devastated even though the child didn’t die. She might never recover from it.”

  This was one accusation from Sarah that had surprised Cara. On the day she’d left the Needenhams’, Lady Needenham seemed worn out and subdued, but not devastated. Had Sarah been overstating the case?

  Cara decided there was at least one defense she could give. “With all due respect, your ladyship, I made it clear to his lordship and to Mr. Burke that I was never to be considered a governess. Furthermore, I was never with Amelia anywhere that was not in the immediate vicinity of another adult. I was determined that an accident such as occurred with Master Needenham would never happen again.”

  “You see that, Mother?” Langham said. “She has atoned. She acted with great caution and care. You were the one who insisted she play the part of governess—and treated her as such. She never asked for it nor wanted it.”

  “I will not be lectured in my own house.” The countess advanced on Cara. “You will pack your things and leave immediately.”

  Langham stepped between them. “You will not dismiss her as though she’s a mere servant. She’s my guest, and she will stay.”

  Lady Morestowe drew up, looking surprised at her son’s impertinence. “You are not the master of this house, Langham.”

  “No,” he replied forcibly, “Henry is.” He paused to let that sink in while the countess glowered at him. “Therefore, things will stay as they are until he returns and says differently. You don’t love Amelia anyway. You don’t even like her. What do you care if that little girl lives or dies?”

  Cara’s mouth fell open in shock. She could only thank God that Amelia was not in the house so
she could not overhear anything. Mr. Hart had been perceptive enough to see the terrible altercation beginning and had taken Amelia to the stables to keep her occupied with looking after Maisie.

  Langham’s words, brutal and ugly, had stopped his mother cold. She was visibly shaken. Cara had a vision of that painting of the little girl who’d been lost so long ago. Was Lady Morestowe thinking of her, too? Cara saw her deep intake of breath as she struggled to keep her composure. “That was cruel, Langham. It was unworthy of you as a gentleman and my son.”

  Langham said, more gently, “Mother, please listen to reason. There was no harm done. You cannot deny how much better Amelia has been over the past few weeks. Cara has been a good influence on her. You’ve seen the results yourself. Why can you not focus on that, instead of one past mistake?”

  Cara thought—hoped and prayed—the lady was softening.

  She rallied though, her anger returning. “What about the harm done today? She embarrassed us in front of our most eminent neighbor. His father, the Marquess of Dartford, already holds a grudge against Henry, which has damaged his political and social life. Do you realize what greater fodder this will give him? You can be assured Lord Nigel will tell him everything. This entire mess will be a major blow to Henry’s reputation and standing.”

  Cara bowed her head in shame. Despite her best intentions, her actions kept bringing harm to others. Even to a man she loved.

  “I am willing to wait until Henry returns,” the countess added. “He’ll be only too glad to remove this woman from our home. Fortunately, his marriage contract with Miss Myers should be settled before word of today’s events has time to spread.”

  “You can’t tell me he’s serious about Miss Myers!” Langham exclaimed.

  A satisfied smile returned to his mother’s face. “Why else do you think he accompanied them to London?”

  “He said he planned to meet Miss Leahy and bring her back.”

  She smirked. “As though the governess were not capable of taking a train on her own.”

  It was difficult to argue with that.

  Seeing that she’d regained the upper hand, the countess said, “Until Henry returns, I insist that Miss Bernay not have any oversight of Amelia.”

  “Fine,” Langham answered tersely. “Amelia can spend her days with me.”

  He looked poised to fight, expecting his mother to resist. Instead, she nodded. “It wouldn’t hurt for you to take on more responsibilities with the girl. In fact, I think it’s an excellent idea.”

  “You do?” Langham looked as puzzled as Cara at this pronouncement.

  “You may both go now,” the countess informed them.

  Cara left the room in a daze. One thing was clear: the Countess of Morestowe still held the real power in this family, and she wasn’t about to let anyone get in her way.

  “I’m sorry about all this,” Langham told her as he accompanied her up the stairs. “I don’t know what is going on with Henry, but let me exhort you not to take everything my mother says at face value.”

  Cara’s shoulders drooped as she walked. “There was truth to what she said, though. I’m sorry to have brought such embarrassment to your family.”

  “Such balderdash. Mother worries too much about this idea of a spotless reputation. Henry is the one who extended the invitation for you to come here, even if I first suggested it. He knew the circumstances were unusual, but he did it anyway.”

  Cara shook her head. “But Henry didn’t know about the Needenhams. When he learns what happened today—”

  “Just have patience. He’ll return in a few days, and then we can sort out everything. I know he’s a slave to duty and all that, but I still can’t imagine him marrying Miss Myers.”

  “Why not?”

  “He doesn’t look at her the same way he looks at you.”

  That simple statement took Cara’s breath away. She paused on the stairs, feeling her cheeks grow pink.

  Langham gave her a knowing nod. “I’ve been convinced for a while now that you and Henry would make a fine match. No one has brought him out of his shell like you have.”

  “You are an incorrigible romantic, aren’t you?” She echoed Langham’s words to her on the day she’d spoken to him about Louise. She couldn’t quite manage the cheerful tone, though. She sighed. “There was a time when I thought Henry cared for me. But if he hasn’t already changed his mind, he soon will. And in any case, there’s Miss Myers—”

  “Don’t give up the ship!” Langham interjected. “I’ve been watching the post closely these days. What with Louise and I sending our letters by way of Georgiana, and her being in Blackpool, our private postal network is spotty. But I expect to hear from her any day now. If we can get confirmation that Everson is interested in funding the mine, perhaps Henry won’t feel compelled to marry Florence. Then our problems will be solved!”

  It was something Cara would love to believe. But she knew Langham was oversimplifying the issue. Even if all those other things worked out, there was still the countess.

  Furthermore, the social obstacles were real and could not be ignored. Cara had been wrong to think they could be so easily overcome. She thought back to that afternoon at the creek when she’d been dreaming of a life with Henry. At one point she’d even envisioned that she and Sarah Needenham would become friends. They’d be neighbors, after all, and married to men of high station. But today, Sarah’s disdain for her had been plain. Cara sensed it was due not only to what had happened with Robbie, but to class differences between them that could never be bridged.

  As she and Langham continued up the stairs, they passed portrait after portrait of the blue-blooded men and women who made up the Burke family tree. The faces staring at her from those frames seemed determined to remind her that she didn’t belong here.

  Perhaps they were right.

  They made it through nearly the whole of the next day before Amelia caught on to what was happening.

  Cara remained in her room all morning. She heard the child trip gaily down the hallway after breakfast, heading outside. No doubt she thought Cara would already be in the studio, as she often was. Jeanne had instructions to stay with her, either at the studio, the dower house garden, or the stables, until Langham arrived at the studio later that morning. Even though the countess had not expressly forbidden Cara to interact with Amelia, Cara thought it better to begin the weaning process now in the hope that it would make their separation easier when the time came.

  After eating a light luncheon brought up to her room by a maid, Cara collected her sketchbook and pencils and went out to the garden behind the main house. She was restless, needing fresh air and sunshine. She also did not want to be in the house if Amelia was brought back to change clothes for a riding lesson.

  Irresistibly she gravitated toward the bench where she and Henry had sat together. Memories flooded her mind: the child playing among the flowers; the warm, fragrant breeze; and most especially, how she’d been able to help Henry through his anger, and the door it had opened between their two hearts.

  She would never understand why everything that had seemed a true gift from God would soon most certainly be gone. Wiping away a tear, Cara turned in her sketchbook to the drawing she had begun that day of Amelia chasing butterflies. She had never completed it. She decided to do so now, especially as the memory lived vibrant and clear in her mind’s eye.

  The afternoon advanced. Cara remained in the garden, but her thoughts were on Amelia and Henry. She prayed for the whole family—even the countess. It was the only way she could think of to atone. At last, a gnawing in her stomach told her it must be time for tea.

  She pulled out her watch to check the hour. Looking down at it, she knew what else she must do when she returned to London. It was time to go to her sisters and sort out their differences. Her desire to be reunited with Julia and Rosalyn was so strong that everything else paled in comparison.

  Cara heard the crunch of steps on gravel. She turned to see Langham
approaching. He looked haggard, but he managed a smile as he reached the bench and sat beside her. “Have you spent the day out here?”

  “Most of it. How is Amelia?”

  “Things were going well enough until we returned to the house for tea. That was when she noticed you weren’t in your room. We’d told her you were not feeling well today, so there was a bit of a row when she realized you had deliberately spent the day away from her. She was offended as well as confused. Especially when we couldn’t tell her why you had done it.”

  “Oh dear. Perhaps I should go in—”

  Langham put out a hand to stop her. “Between Jeanne and my mother, they have her in hand. There is something I’d like to discuss with you first, if you don’t mind.”

  His tired expression showed there was more on his mind than Amelia’s tantrum. “Of course. What is it?”

  “Last night I couldn’t sleep. Everything about this situation bothered me. I was angry at my mother, angry at Henry. It seemed to me they were worried about all the wrong things and ignoring the things that were truly important. Amelia’s welfare, for instance.”

  Cara nodded. “I’ve spent hours mulling over that same thing.”

  “I thought it was high time we cleared the air about who Amelia is and where she came from. If Henry plans to marry someone, don’t you think that person deserves to know the truth about his ward?”

  “Yes,” Cara answered with feeling. “But how can that happen? Henry refuses to discuss it.”

  “I know,” Langham said with a grimace. “So I decided I would find out for myself. Last night while everyone was asleep, I went to the study to look through Henry’s papers. I know where he keeps the key to the cabinet that holds his private correspondence. At the back of a drawer, I found the answer to my question. I’ve spent every hour since then wondering if I ought to regret it.”