Читать книгу The Rise And Fall Of Reginald Everheart - Victoria Alexander, Victoria Alexander - Страница 8

CHAPTER THREE

“I BELIEVE DULCIE MIDDLEWORTH has feelings for Mr. Shepard,” Mrs. Persephone Fitzhew-Wellmore—Poppy to her friends—said and played a card. She hadn’t particularly liked whist, or card games of any type really, when she and her dear friends Mrs.—now Lady—Guinevere Blodgett and Mrs. Ophelia Higginbotham had begun playing together some twenty years ago. Nor had she been very good at it. Now, she had moments where she was quite a wicked sort of player, much to Gwen and Effie’s mixed dismay and amusement. “And I am fairly certain Mr. Shepard shares those feelings.”

“I suppose that’s entirely possible.” Gwen studied her cards. “They’re together for hours every day in that library and quite frequently alone.”

“Oh, I don’t think anything untoward has gone on,” Poppy said quickly. “Not any sort of impropriety that is.”

“The parties involved usually don’t announce their improper activities.” Effie played a card. “People tend to be discreet when having a liaison in a library.”

“I doubt there’s anything even approaching a liaison. Why, they scarcely even talk. At least not to each other.” Poppy thought for a moment. “It’s extremely odd given they have been in that room nearly every day since he began frequenting the library some months ago but they do look at one another all the time.”

“Well, if they look at one another there must be something going on.” Gwen played her card with a flourish, grinned and took the trick. “Three more tricks and I win this hand.”

Poppy ignored her. “I know you think I’m being silly but I’m quite observant when it comes to this sort of thing.” She set her jaw firmly. “And I know what I’ve seen.”

“You did say they look at each other,” Effie murmured, her attention more on the cards Gwen was dealing than on Poppy’s comments, as if she could somehow influence them by mere force of thought alone.

“It’s not merely looking. That would indeed be silly.” Poppy drew her brows together. There was nothing more frustrating than trying to explain, even to her dearest friends, how something that had started as nothing more than a feeling had—through ardent observation and a very keen eye—become a conviction. “I first noticed when I would stop to chat with her and admire her work—she’s very good you know. I do think she could become quite successful. And there are a fair number of lady illustrators these days—”

“All painting overly sweet pictures of children or flowers,” Effie pointed out.

“There’s nothing wrong with children or flowers.” Gwen leveled Effie a chastising look. Effie did tend to be rather curt when she played cards. Gwen nodded at Poppy. “Do go on, dear. You were telling us about why you think Miss Middleworth has feelings for Mr. Shepard.”

“Although I daresay I wouldn’t blame her.” Effie chuckled. “Nor would I mind spending my days alone in a library with him.”

Gwen grinned. “He is quite dashing, isn’t he?”

“And entirely too young for any of us even if we weren’t already married.” Goodness, it could be difficult at times to keep her friends attending to the matter at hand. Poppy wasn’t the only one who tended to digress. She tried again. “As I was saying, quite often, when she and I are chatting about her work or art in general or any number of things, if I chance to look in his direction, I catch him gazing at her as if she were the moon and the stars.”

“I heard Miss Middleworth is soon to be engaged to Mr. Drummond,” Effie said absently, her attention back on her cards.

“Mr. Drummond probably thinks so judging by the manner in which he smirks at her.” Poppy paused. “But she has no intention of marrying him.”

“Wise of her,” Gwen murmured and set down a card.

“Dulcie is too busy gazing longingly at Mr. Shepard to give Mr. Drummond a second thought. Beyond that there’s, well, an odd sort of tension in the air when they’re together. Like the taut string on a violin that could snap at any moment.”

Effie looked up from her hand. “Goodness, Poppy, if they both have feelings for one another, what on earth is the problem?”

“The problem is neither of them have made their feelings known. Dulcie is a spirited young woman yet the thought of approaching Mr. Shepard seems to sap her courage.” Poppy shook her head. “And I suspect he thinks an entanglement would be difficult as he is soon to join a new expedition.”

“The one to the Amazon?” Gwen asked.

Poppy nodded and played a card, biting back a smile. Depending on the next card played, she might well win this hand. “I believe so.”

“I’m not sure I would encourage anything between them,” Effie muttered.

“Why not?”

“Oh, for goodness sakes.” Effie smacked down her card and glared at Poppy. “Would you really want any young woman to enter into the life we’ve had?”

Gwen stared. “I don’t see why not.”

Poppy quietly collected the trick and tried not to look smug. Three more tricks and Gwen would win? Not bloody likely.

“Because we have spent most of our married years with our husbands off risking their lives in the most dangerous places on earth in the name of military duty or scientific advancement. Why, we are worse than widows. We have husbands—they simply aren’t in evidence.” Effie huffed. “I, for one, am quite tired of it.”

It wasn’t the first time Effie had expressed dismay at the state of their existence. All three ladies were married to men of daring and adventure who were far more likely to be found in some remote area of the world than in London. Gwen’s husband, Sir Charles, was currently leading an expedition in the jungles of Africa. Poppy wasn’t entirely sure what the purpose of it was other than Sir Charles did hope to locate the missing Dr. Livingstone, although most people assumed he was dead as he had not been heard from for several years. Poppy’s dear Malcolm was somewhere in Turkey on a quest to find the lost city of Troy. Effie’s husband was a military man. Colonel William Higginbotham was even now part of a mission to rescue British citizens and government officials in Abyssinia. From what they’d read in the papers and the infrequent letters Effie received, it did seem that he was safe and all had gone well.

Poppy dealt the cards. It was pointless to argue with Effie when she was in this mood and one really couldn’t blame her if on occasion the state of their existence annoyed her. Of the three friends, Effie’s husband was usually the one in the most obvious danger—the lot of a military man of course. Still, one couldn’t discount the threat of malaria or other tropical diseases, accidental injury in some uncivilized and probably uncharted location, native uprising or any number of other possibilities that could claim the life of any explorer. Poppy would never disparage Effie’s fears for her husband aloud but Poppy did think of the three friends, Effie’s lot was a tiny bit better than Poppy or Gwen’s. At least if something happened to the Colonel, Effie would be informed of his demise. Sir Charles and Malcolm could bid their wives farewell one day and head off into the unknown never to be heard from again. Not knowing what fate had befallen the man you loved was surely a unique kind of hell on earth.

“We do have each other.” Gwen picked up her cards.

“Thank God.” Effie blew a frustrated breath then mustered a reluctant smile. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“There is much to be said for family.” Poppy nodded and played a card.

Effie and Gwen were indeed her family. While they were originally connected only by circumstance, they were now bound together as tightly as if by blood. They had met some twenty years ago at a meeting of the Ladies Committee of the Explorers Club and had found they had absolutely nothing in common save the lack of a husband within sight. Still—and not one of them today could say exactly how it had happened—from mere acquaintances they had become friends and now were as close as sisters. None of them had much in the way of family and none had been blessed with children. At this point, in their mid to late fifties, they had shared much of their lives together through good times and bad, tears and laughter. They counted on each other for companionship and comfort and support. And would until they day they breathed their last.

“Let me ask you this, Effie.” Gwen set her cards on the table and folded her hands on top of them. “When you met William, all those years ago, and someone older and wiser had warned against marrying him as you would probably spend much of your life with him off somewhere in the service of Her Majesty, would you have listened?”

Effie stared at her cards. “William has always looked exceptionally dashing in his uniform.”

“Excellent answer,” Poppy murmured.

Gwen ignored her. “Would you have given up the handsome officer on the advice of another wife of a military man?”

Effie frowned. “I don’t think that question is at all fair. I fell in love with William very nearly the first moment we met.” She paused. “I did, however, give due consideration to his life and the future we might have together.”

“And you married him anyway,” Gwen said pointedly.

“How could I do otherwise?” Effie shrugged. “The man laid claim to my heart.”

“And even now, after all these years spent more alone than with him, you would marry him again. As I would marry Charles, and Poppy would marry Malcolm.”

“Yes, I suppose I would.” Effie heaved a resigned sigh. “Blast it all, of course I would.”

“My point exactly,” Poppy said firmly. “Dulcie and Mr. Shepard were meant for each other. We just need to make them see what is so obvious to anyone who looks at them.”

Gwen narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean we?”

“I haven’t figured that out yet.” Poppy chose her words with care. “But I thought the three of us together might come up with something. We can be quite clever when we join forces.”

Effie groaned.

“Your claim that they belong together is based on nothing more than an odd lack of conversation, the fact that they occasionally gaze at each other, something in the air and your own assessment of the situation,” Gwen said in that mildly patronizing way she employed when she thought Poppy’s ideas absurd. “I really don’t think—”

“See for yourself.” Poppy’s gaze shifted from one friend to the other. “Come to the library tomorrow. If you don’t see what I see, then I shall drop this matter altogether.”

“Will Mrs. Lithgow be there?” Effie asked.

Mrs. Lithgow was the head of the Ladies Committee, on her third husband, superior, sanctimonious and one of those people who thinks she knows everything. While she was not universally loved, she did manage to accomplish quite a lot that no one else wanted to do, so she was tolerated. In moderation.

Poppy grimaced. “I do hope not.”

“And if we see what you see?” Caution sounded in Effie’s voice.

“When you see what I see—” Poppy beamed “—you will help me come up with a brilliant way to make the two of them accept their, well, fate.”

Effie and Gwen traded glances.

“Oh, that does sound like fun,” Effie said drily. “Not to mention a great deal of effort.”

“Goodness, Effie, you know as well as I—” Poppy played her card and collected the trick “—love is always worth the effort.”