Читать книгу My Lady's Honor - Julia Justiss - Страница 12

Next day, dressed in their own clothes and delivered by Davi to the edge of town at about the hour the mail coach would be arriving, Gwennor and Parry found a hackney to take them to the home of her stepmother’s aunt, Lady Alice. After identifying themselves to her butler Mercer, they were led to a small back parlor to await the pleasure of their aunt, who, the butler frostily informed them, obviously skeptical of their unannounced arrival and suspicious lack of either baggage or retainers, had not yet left her chamber.

Although it had been more than ten years since Gwen had visited Harrogate, apparently Lady Alice’s cook remembered her, for a short time later, the butler returned bearing a heavily laden tray, his manner now all gracious condescension. “Forgive me for not immediately recalling you, Miss Southford!” he said as he hastened to pour them tea. “I did not recognize in your elegant self the child who came with her lady mother. Cook reminded me, and also remembered you were particularly fond of her jam tarts. Allow me to offer you some fresh from the oven.”

Knowing her aunt was not an early riser, Gwen feared they might spend most of the morning waiting in the parlor. However, the news that their mistress’s niece from distant Wales had turned up unexpectedly on their doorstep must have inspired her aunt’s no-doubt curious staff to risk rousing their mistress, for little more than an hour after they’d finished their refreshments, Mercer returned to escort them into their aunt’s presence.

Doubt nibbled at Gwen’s certainty and she found herself holding her breath as they entered Lady Alice’s sitting room. If her assumptions were incorrect and that lady refused to shelter them, their situation would become difficult indeed, for she could not hope to attract a respectable suitor without a genteel sponsor, and her limited funds would not be sufficient to support them for more than a few months at most.

Though the lady reclining on the brocade sofa, her elegant morning gown draped with a fine shawl, was plumper and the lines about her bright blue eyes more pronounced than Gwen remembered, the warm smile and the delighted tone of her voice were as welcoming as Gwen had hoped.

“My dearest Gwennor!” Lady Alice cried. “A delightful surprise! And Parry here, too!” She held out her hands. “Come now, don’t be shy. When last you were here, you embraced me readily enough!”

A little dizzy with relief, Gwen urged Parry forward. After fond hugs all around, Lady Alice motioned them to adjoining chairs. “Now sit and tell me all your news!”

“I’m sorry we did not send a note, Aunt Alice,” Gwen said, taking the chair indicted. “Our departure came about…rather abruptly.”

“With Nigel Hartwell taking over Southford, I don’t wonder at it,” Lady Alice said with a sniff. “Detestable man! Oh, but you must forgive me—I’ve yet not expressed my regrets about your recent loss. Oh, Gwen, I am sorry! I know how close you were to your papa.”

Lady Alice leaned over to squeeze her hand. Gwen returned the pressure, her throat tight. “Thank you.”

“So, did Nigel send you to me for the Season? Of course he must have! He ought to have dispatched you to London, but that odious nipcheese doubtless believes it will be cheaper to maintain you here. Though our small assemblies cannot claim nearly the quantity of elevated society to be found in the capital, I staunchly maintain the quality of our residents compares quite favorably to the city! Still, were my own resources not so limited I should insist we relocate to London. That is, now that your dear papa is no longer here to protect you, I expect you are looking for a husband, aren’t you? Ah, but whatever the reason, I am ecstatic to have you here—and Parry too, of course, dear boy! I was telling my friend Colonel Haversham just the other day how bored and lonely I’d been of late, and now—here you are!”

While her aunt rattled on, Gwen considered how much of their circumstances she need convey to Lady Alice. A discreetly edited account which warned of her cousin’s possible ire but omitted their exact means of transport would be best, she decided.

So when her aunt paused for breath, Gwen said, “Although you are correct in assuming cousin Nigel wished to be speedily rid of me, aunt, h-he didn’t precisely send us. In fact, he was planning to marry me off to Baron Edgerton at Southford within the week.”

“So soon after your beloved father’s demise—and without even allowing you time to purchase bride clothes?” her aunt replied, clearly appalled. “And Edgerton! Why, he must be twice your age or more, and not at all a stylish gentleman. Indeed, I understand he never leaves hunt country. Definitely not the proper sort of husband for a lovely young lady! I’ve always thought Nigel an unfeeling monster, and so I told your dear stepmama times out of mind!”

Gwen smiled. “As my opinion of him matches yours, Parry and I decided rather hastily to…depart. To put it quite bluntly, we ran away! I expect Nigel is quite angry with me for flouting his authority. Although I’m of age and he has no legal power over me, he might be incensed enough to pursue us and try to order me back home. So…if you would rather not become involved, I will understand.”

“Fetch you back?” Lady Alice said a little nervously. “Do you believe he will?”

“I trust that once his anger cools, the distance and expense of coming after me will convince him to leave me in your care instead.”

“Doubtless you are right,” Lady Alice returned, her sunny good humor restored. “’Twould be the most sensible thing to do. In any event, I hope I am not such a pudding-heart as to send you back to that unfeeling wretch. Of course you may stay, as long as you like!”

Gwen leaned over to give Lady Alice a hug. “Thank you, dear, brave Aunt Alice!”

“Doubtless I understand better than Nigel the duty I owe a kinswoman. Edgerton indeed!” Lady Alice repeated with a shudder. “Even in Harrogate, I should be able to contrive better for you than him.”

“Such is certainly my hope! But I did bring funds of my own, so we shall not have to be an encumbrance on you.”

“Nonsense, you shall stay as my guest. And dear Parry too, of course. Such a gentle boy.”

Her brother, as usual when obligated to remain for social conversation in which he had little interest, had drifted into reverie, but at the mention of his name, he straightened and gave his aunt one of his sweet-tempered smiles. “I brought you a present, Aunt Alice.” He rummaged for a moment in his pocket, then produced a smooth, symmetrical stone of clear pale hue. “I polished it until it was round and pretty.”

“Why, it’s lovely! Thank you, Parry! Only look, Gwennor. I shall have to have it set in a pendant.”

“’Tis pink quartz, I believe, Aunt Alice,” Gwen said.

“I found it while we were traveling. Remolo showed me how to shape it,” Parry offered.

“With an antique gold setting, it would complement this gown nicely, aunt,” Gwen inserted hastily. “Would you mind if Parry were to visit the stables? He misses his animals, and I promised I would let him see the horses.”

Fortunately, Lady Alice’s intellect was neither exacting nor suspicious. “Whatever makes the dear boy happy,” she replied. “Indeed, perhaps you can assist my groom,” she said, turning to him. “One of the carriage horses picked up a stone in his hoof and may have bruised it. Your mama was so proud of your skill at healing.”

Parry brightened. “May I go there now, Aunt Alice?”

“Of course, dear boy.”

After making her a proper bow, Parry eagerly exited the room. Gwen watched him walk out, fiercely glad she’d managed to spirit him away. If he’d been anxious after a mere morning cooped up in Lady Alice’s parlor, how could he have endured cousin Nigel’s incarceration?

“I’m glad you had an errand for him, Gwennor. ’Twill give us a chance to chat privately of your future—and his. What is to become of him, now that Nigel rules Southford?”

“Nigel intended to lock him up in the attic,” Gwen replied bluntly, not troubling to hide her indignation.

At her aunt’s exclamation of horror, Gwen continued, “’Twas the main reason we left so hastily. I could have stomached Edgerton for husband if he meant to allow me to make a home for Parry, but cousin Nigel made it quite clear that the baron was as revolted by my brother as he is. I mean to keep Parry with me permanently, ma’am. Beyond that unconditional requirement, I am not at all particular about the attributes of my potential husband. A kind, decent man who will see Parry for his strengths and not find it embarrassing or uncomfortable to be around him is all I ask. Do…do you think I shall be able to find such a man?”

“I don’t see why not. The dear boy appears perfectly normal to me. Indeed, if Nigel could be induced to agree to it, do you not think Parry could live on a small estate of his own?”

“’Tis a bit…complicated,” Gwen returned, frowning. “At times his intellect seems not at all affected by his accident. But it’s as if the blow from that stallion’s hoof severed the link in his mind from the present to the past or future. You cannot tell him in the morning to do something at noon, for by noon he will not remember the request, nor can he envision what he needs to do tomorrow. He seems instinctively able to perform quite complicated tasks, but if he’s given a list of duties to accomplish or a long series of sums to add, he will lose track of them in the middle, which upsets him dreadfully.”

Lady Alice shrugged. “Computing a long series of sums has the same effect on me.”

“You can see how difficult it would be for him to manage a household, however, and he is so innocent of evil, if a venal or crafty person should enter his employ, they might steal his last shilling or commit some dire mischief without his ever suspecting it. Occasionally he does realize something is…wrong with him, which upsets and alarms him, and requires the reassurance of someone he trusts to help him regain his equilibrium. Most importantly, I love him and I want him with me.”

Lady Alice patted her hand. “Such a good sister you’ve been to him, for all that you’re not really blood kin. Still, such a handsome young man, ’tis a shame he’ll never—but no sense repining.”

“Nor are we blood kin. But will you help me anyway? You know how I’ve counted on your wisdom and counsel ever since stepmama died.”

“Well, of course I shall! You’re a handsome, capable young woman, Gwennor, of excellent family. I have no doubt we can find you a suitable candidate—or several. My, to have beaux about the house again, coming to call and leaving bouquets and such! And the shopping…new gowns and pelisses and bonnets. Oh, ’twill be a delight! I shall begin a list of eligible gentlemen immediately.”

“Thank you, Aunt Alice! I shall be forever indebted.”

“Nonsense, child,” Lady Alice replied. “’Tis I who am indebted to you for rescuing me from my ennui.”

After making some discreet inquiries of the staff which confirmed her suspicions about the state of Lady Alice’s finances, Gwen resolved to be as slight a burden on her aunt’s household as possible. Therefore, after adamantly refusing to have her aunt purchase her a new wardrobe, she was forced to expend far too much of her slender resources in acquiring the minimum number of garments her aunt considered necessary for a lady about to make her bow in Harrogate society.

She had to admit, though, as a week later she exited their carriage and strolled on her aunt’s arm toward the Pump Room, that facing the world in a stylish new gown of black silk, her hair artfully gathered in a topknot of curls fashioned by Lady Alice’s deft-fingered maid Tilly, certainly gave one a welcome dose of confidence.

“Colonel Haversham should already be within,” Lady Alice confided. “I’ve asked him—quite discreetly of course!—to gather about him any of those gentlemen whom we’ve discussed. Such as his friend Colonel Howard…” She paused and looked over at Gwen.

“A fine army man who returned here from India to recover his shattered health—a widower of about forty possessed of a comfortable income,” Gwen recited her aunt’s coaching. “Likes dogs and billiards.”

“Very good,” Lady Alice nodded. “And Lord Sandstone…”

“Also a widower, tall, thin, suffers from gout but preserves great sweetness of manner despite his pain. Enjoys angling and gardening.”

“Mr. Phillips…”

“Youngest son of an earl, a bit vain of his looks and lineage but quite affable; maintains a fine house in town between visits to his father’s nearby estates.”

“And still in his thirties!” Lady Alice prompted.

“Mustn’t omit that important fact.” Chuckling at the thought of the youngest of her prospects being nearly ten years her senior, Gwen looked back at Lady Alice, who was following her through the doorway—and was knocked nearly off her feet by a man who briskly shoved open the door they’d been about to enter.

She stumbled sideways, her arms flailing as she attempted to avoid the embarrassment of tumbling face-forward onto the flagstones in front of the Pump Room’s main entrance.

“Gwen! Are you all right?”

Before she could reply to her aunt’s cry, a pair of strong hands grabbed her from behind and steadied her. “Pray forgive me, ma’am!” said a deep, contrite masculine voice. “I trust you’ve suffered no harm?”

“I—I am quite unharmed, thank you, sir,” she said, turning to face the gentleman, who, after insuring she’d recovered her balance, released her shoulders.

She looked up into a pair of clear green eyes set in a face attractive enough to make even her skeptical heart skip a beat. Firm masculine lips curved into a smile as he brushed a lock of blond hair off his brow, revealing a charming set of dimples.

“Thank heavens for that! I was opening the door for grandpapa’s chair and did not pay sufficient attention to who might be approaching. Indeed, let me escort you in before some other ignorant oaf assaults you.”

He made them a bow. “Lady Alice Winnerly, isn’t it? I believe you are acquainted with my grandfather, Lord Masterson. Please, let me show you back in.”

“What have you gotten yourself into now, boy?” an acerbic voice demanded as they entered.

The gentleman hastened back to a thin elderly man who sat in a wheeled chair, swathed in robes. “Nearly ran down these ladies on the sidewalk, I’m afraid, grandpapa.”

“Lord Masterson!” Lady Alice said, a smile of delight breaking out on her face. “You look much improved! I trust the waters are proving beneficial, or perhaps it is the reviving presence of your grandson Mr.—”

“This jackanapes?” the old man said with a jerk of his chin toward the young man. “My grandson, Jeffrey Masterson, come to turn me up sweet enough to leave him some of my geld when I’m gone, no doubt—but he’s tolerably amusing, so perhaps I shall,” he said, ignoring the young man’s strangled protest. “And the waters are as nasty as ever, my lady. I suggest you avoid them. Take me home, now, Jeffrey. These old bones are longing for their bed.”

The embarrassment in the young man’s eyes swiftly changed to concern. “At once, grandpapa. Lady Alice, will you be remaining at the Pump Room?” At her nod, he continued, “Then please give me leave, after I’ve gotten grandfather settled, to return and deliver my apologies to you and your charming companion at more length. Ladies.”

After bowing, he pushed his grandfather’s chair out.

Lady Alice gazed after them for a moment, her bright blue eyes shining. “What a fortuitous encounter! I’d heard Lord Masterson’s grandson was visiting but had not yet had occasion to meet him. So attractive, and quite young! A bachelor possessing a large fortune from his mother’s side, ’tis said he has no need of his grandfather’s money. Most charming, did you not think?”

“Indeed, Aunt Alice,” Gwen replied, impressed, but resisting the urge to succumb to the pleasant imaginings which Lady Alice was doubtless entertaining. “If he isn’t hopeful of a bequest, it speaks well of him that he would come spend time with his grandfather.” Especially a man who appeared as irascible as Lord Masterson.

Fool, she told herself, sternly damping down a niggle of hope as they walked from the entry into the Pump Room itself. Just because Mr. Masterson appeared to possess the kindness and tolerance of infirmity that might make him accept Parry did not mean he would be impressed enough with her to come courting.

She’d better not set her hopes higher than the infirm gentleman stricken in years and wishful of a handmaiden’s assistance whom she’d originally envisioned for herself.

Perhaps then she might banish the disturbing memories that, once they’d been accepted under Lady Alice’s roof and she’d stopped living in constant fear of pursuit from cousin Nigel, returned all too frequently to plague her.

Memories of a tall blond gentleman whose handsome face and broad shoulders had elicited an immediate, visceral pull of attraction. Whose clever banter had delighted her mind even as she knew she ought to deplore its fixation on the physical. Who, after their encounter and despite her shame over her unprecedented reaction to it, she could not help wishing she might have met instead under proper circumstances, so she might, with the same shivery agitation his presence had excited, look forward to his calling on her, riding with her, becoming a friend.

She suppressed a scornful chuckle at so naive a wish. ’Twas not platonic friendship he’d wanted from her. But given her inexplicable response to his audacious kiss, she could not very well condemn only the stranger’s behavior.

Still, the very thought of that kiss refired within her a simmering urgency previously unimaginable in the bounds of her staid existence. A kiss unlike any she’d ever experienced, that within an instant had marshaled the vague longings that had often roiled within her and forged them into irresistible, all-compelling desire.

Instead of exhibiting the horror one would expect of a virtuous maiden suddenly assaulted by a man with whom she’d been acquainted for barely half an hour, her hands had ceased their protesting resistance to clasp about his neck. And her lips had not just yielded to his, but actively responded to the stranger’s caress.

Just as bad, once compelled to it, she had to admit she’d enjoyed dancing for him—the erotic freedom of the wild music that matched the fire flaming through her blood. Such incredible behavior must have originated in some previously unsuspected but obviously deep vein of carnality of which she’d heretofore been completely unaware.

The whole experience had been shameful, appalling—and marvelous.

However, if she wished to contract a respectable alliance, she’d best thrust those rash and wanton responses back into the Pandora’s box from which they’d sprung. Much as her body might protest, she was probably better off setting her matrimonial sights on a staid and possibly infirm gentleman many years her senior—or an obvious gentleman like Mr. Masterson, who would expect virtuous and restrained behavior from his bride.

And who would have no wish to evoke in her so exhilarating, intense—and frighteningly uncontrollable a reaction.