Authors: Shirley Marks
Tags: #Romance, #Regency Romance, #Romantic Comedy, #Historical Romance
It was a splendid idea, and Sherwin told him what he had
in mind, and, by golly, if Freddie didn't know where the
exact thing could be found.
The crafting of the neck cloth was a success on the first try.
Lewis held up the waistcoat, slipped it over Sherwin's arms,
settled it on his shoulders, and made the proper adjustments
before fetching the jacket.
Sherwin's admiration had not been misplaced. He'd
looked up to Freddie at Eton and continued to do so in London. It would be a great pleasure to call him brother after
marrying Muriel.
Standing before his full-length mirror in his bedchamber, he regarded his refection. The gold-shot Burgundycolored waistcoat was neither his first choice nor his second.
Sherwin had wanted to sport one of the new garments he'd
purchased, again with the guidance of Freddie. Unfortunately,
none of them was ready for wear. He had wished to appear
at his best for her.
Sherwin allowed Lewis and Lady Amhurst to make the
decisions for this evening. The valet could labor over as
many neck cloths as needed to achieve success, brush all the
lint from every inch of his garments, and take an inordinate amount of time fussing with the accessories. Sherwin knew
he would place the final and most important item on his person: the miniature portrait of Muriel.
Muriel stood next to Susan in the Burnettes' ballroom. She
admired the simplicity of the Roman ruins depicted on the
beveled window of her carved ivory brise fan.
"That's new, isn't it?" Constance leaned toward the fan to
admire it. "It's pretty, but the decoration is ... odd, don't
you think?"
The fan was lovely and more delicate than Muriel would
have chosen for herself, but this had been a rather special
gift, arriving at Worth House by special messenger just as
they had descended the staircase to leave for the ball. It was
a gift from him.
"If you will recall"-Susan quickly spoke before Muriel
could muster words into a comprehensive order-"when
she was younger, Moo had a particular fondness for learning Classics and such."
"That was ages ago." Constance gazed heavenward. "She
was quite the bluestocking back then. I'm relieved to know
she's outgrown that silliness."
"I think you'll find that she will always retain some interest in that area." Susan, who had spent her childhood with
Muriel, knew her friend had always been obsessed with
everything Roman. She tried to temper Constance's censure.
"I'm so very sorry for you, Moo. I hope that part of your
past will never be discovered."
Constance would need to work much harder if she were
to get a rise out of her cousin tonight. Muriel could tolerate
almost anything this evening. She'd never felt happier in her
entire life, not even when she'd discovered Signore Biondi
and he'd accepted her as his new Latin student. Even she had surprised herself with the discovery of her affection for
Sherwin. Whether masked by the surge of anger at their first
meeting in Town or disguised as a long, cultivated, mutual
understanding, she could not deny that their shared interests
had existed from the very first time they met.
"Oh, look at the Earl there." There was only one earl who
interested Constance. "Quite a court he's holding."
A bevy of young ladies and their mothers surrounded
Sherwin on the far side of the room.
"You'd better join them if you have any hope of catching
his attention," Susan recommended strongly, just stopping
short of physically pushing her.
Constance smoothed her pale yellow skirts and straightened before stepping toward the Earl to join his admirers.
"What chance do you think she has of securing a dance
with him?" Susan's question seemed more rhetorical than
one for Muriel. "I have no doubt that man dances with only
those he wishes."
There had been a few lucky enough to step onto the
dance floor with the Earl. As for Muriel, she did not need to
be asked.
"Save me a waltz," Sherwin had told her before she left
Signore Biondi's that afternoon. Besides the obvious answer
that he wished to share a dance with her, as she did with
him, if they did not dance, it would cause further speculation
they were not getting on. That was very far from the truth,
indeed.
Sherwin finished the current set and strode to Muriel's
side to claim his dance. He bowed before her, not too low as
to hint of any out-of-the-ordinary connection between them,
just the usual nervousness, knowing they were on display,
and offered her his arm.
"It is not quite time to gather for the next set." Muriel accepted his escort, placing her hand upon his arm. If she
had not accepted his arm, that would have caused a scene.
"I cannot wait any longer to share your company." Sherwin would not return to his mother's side. There was nothing more he wanted at this moment than to be near Muriel,
pull her into his arms, and kiss her.
"You looked as if you were well occupied. Do you dare
ignore all those lovely ladies who wait attendance upon you
while you stand by my side? You shall cause a fresh bout of
gossip." She peeked at him out of the corner of her eye, just
as depicted in her portrait.
"Let them all talk, say whatever they wish. What care I?"
Sherwin slid his hand over his waistcoat pocket, savoring
his treasure. "You are the loveliest lady in this room. I cannot tell you how difficult it has been not to give in to the
temptation to gaze in your direction. I'd much rather admire
you instead of pretending that any of these other ... charming ladies have a remote chance of holding my interest."
"I am sorry you must endure such torture." Muriel dared
to laugh at his discomfort.
"I will not endure it for much longer. We may take a turn
about the room, or the gallery, or the gardens-anywhere
that we might be alone until it is time for the next set."
"You know we cannot be alone-it is most improper,"
she scolded him.
"Even though we are eng-"
Muriel shushed him and brought the tip of her fan to her
lips. "Do not make this any more difficult than it already is,
I beg you."
"Very well." He chuckled. "I shan't tease you again."
"I will ask one favor of you, if I may." Muriel stared up at
him. "Constance has been forever wishing your attention.
Would you do the honor of dancing with her?"
"I only do so because you ask, and I am in a precarious
position where I can deny you nothing." Sherwin doubted
there was a finer night that this. "And will it break her heart
when she discovers I am to wed her cousin?"
"I cannot say, but she will have the pleasure of dancing
with you once." Muriel smiled up at him, and Sherwin thought
he would lose his solid form and be reduced to a puddle at
her feet.
"It was my intention to inform my mother of my decision
before attending the ball. I have yet to be successful in that
regard, but I promise you that after standing up with your
cousin, I shall seek out my mother and inform her that I
have decided upon a bride. I will contain myself no longereven you will not be able to stop me."
"As you wish, my lord." Muriel peeked out at him from
the corner of her eye again.
"I shall call on you tomorrow and speak to your father.
Then there shall be no more secrets." He placed his hand on
hers and wished this moment could last forever. How he
adored her. How perfect they were for each other. With a
gleam in her eyes that, even with his long-sightedness he
could perceive, he could see how she, too, adored him.
"I welcome the opportunity to free myself from the duplicity that surrounds me-I will admit some of which is of
my own making." Muriel's hold on his arm relaxed as if in
anticipation of their future. "Honestly, Sherwin, I do not
believe I could keep another single secret."
Sherwin had asked Constance for a dance, which she accepted and seemed to have thoroughly enjoyed. She spent
quite a bit of time in conversation with a group of ladies
on the far side of the room before returning to Muriel and
Susan.
"I must confess, it would not take much for the Earl to win
my affection," Constance whispered, nearly out of breath. "It
is only that I've heard the most disheartening thing. All is
lost, I'm afraid. He is to be married."
"To whom?" Susan, who could not have known it was
Muriel, showed genuine surprise.
Muriel would need to tell her soon. Susan was, after all,
her dearest friend, and Muriel had not wished to keep such
news from her. But she had to until her father and Sherwin's
mother approved the match.
"No one knows." Constance sounded quite put out. "It's a
secret engagement. And just as I begin making progress
with Amhurst ... it is most dreadful."
Muriel felt her silly smile, the one Susan had chided her
about, returning. She dropped her fan open and raised it to
hide the lower half of her face.
"I don't know when they're to make the announcement. I
do admit, I am most curious to learn who she is. Do not
worry, cousin, I am not so angry." Constance glanced toward
the Earl as if there might be a clue to his fiancee's identity.
"There is nothing for it. If Amhurst is no longer available, I
believe I must turn my attention toward Sir Samuel Pruitt."
That's when Susan dropped her fan open and brought it
close to her face.
After his set with Constance Kimball, Sherwin sought his
mother. He approached Lady Amhurst and stood with both
hands resting in the small of his back and planned to wait
by her side until he received her undivided attention.
"What is it, Amhurst?" she replied in a cool tone at his
presence.
"Might I have a private word with you?" He stared at her,
making certain she would not put him off again as she had during the drive there earlier that evening. When he had
tried to raise the subject, she had silenced him with a wave
of her hand, deeming it more important he listen to her ongoing list of instructions.
"Excuse us," Lady Amhurst cooed at the guests around
her and nodded her head in a gracious manner to her son.
Sherwin led her off to one side of the room where they
were sure not to be overheard. He glanced across the room
at Muriel, who gently fanned herself. There were no words
to express the delight he felt in seeing her with his gift. She
was beyond lovely, and he couldn't wait until he had the
chance to stand up with her a second time.
"I think you will be pleased with what I have to say, my
lady." Sherwin could not help but smile. As much as his
mother wished him to marry, she could not be, he decided,
any happier than he.
"What is it, Sherwin?" His mother sounded impatient.
"Do you not have a dance with Miss Shrope next? Why
don't you go find her?"
He faced his mother and announced, "I wish to inform you
that I have decided upon a bride." He placed his right hand
upon the precious portrait resting in his waistcoat pocket.
The inquisitive gazes of the guests around them grew
curious, but Sherwin knew they would need to wait until
both families gave their consent before a public announcement could be made.
"You have? That is astonishing news!" Lady Amhurst
clasped her hands together in delight, or was it in anticipation? "Who is she, pray tell?"
"Lady Muriel Worth," Sherwin whispered. It felt good to
say her name out loud. "I have not spoken to her father as of
yet. I shall seek an audience with the Duke of Faraday first
thing tomorrow."
Lady Amhurst's smile fell from her lips. "No, I will not
agree to this match," she said, her voice becoming softer in
her attempt to control her anger. "That gel is not suitable."
Sherwin didn't understand-Muriel was perfect! "Her father is the Duke of Faraday, her brother the Earl of Brent,
her uncle Baron Kimball, her brother-in-law-"
"Although quite exceptional, I am not speaking of her
family connections." Lady Amhurst did not take a breath
before continuing, "I will not have her in ours!"
An immediate silence struck the room, and a chill of
dread surrounded him at his mother's declaration.
Sherwin turned to face Muriel. Her cheeks had flushed to
a raging scarlet. Even though she stood halfway across the
room, she was the only one who could have "heard" every
hurtful word of Lady Amhurst's.
The sound of Muriel's fan snapping closed echoed through
the room. She threw it forcefully to the floor and crushed its
delicate ivory sticks beneath her silk dancing slippers before exiting the ballroom.
Muriel stalked out of the ballroom, turned a corner, and
continued down the corridor. She swiped the tears burning
her eyes and went straight into the ladies' room to remove
herself from the unwanted attention of the other guests.
How dare she? That woman had the audacity to declare
that Muriel was not welcome in her family?
That hateful, odious woman. Sherwin's mother. The Dowager Countess of Amhurst.
And what had been Sherwin's reply? Nothing.
She hadn't waited long to see his answer, true, but it had
been enough time to know he would remain silent. If Sherwin did not oppose his mother in this, there would be no peace in the future. This was not to be borne. There would
be no future for them, Muriel vowed, if he did not stand up
for her now.
"Moo, what is it? What has happened that you-" Susan
hurried in. Apparently she had followed the swiftly moving
Muriel out of the ballroom and had finally caught up to her.
"You are ... oh, goodness-Moo, you are crying."
Nothing had ever made Muriel cry. Until this happened.
To be clear, it wasn't Lady Amhurst's rejection ... it was
Sherwin's apparent inability to disagree with his mother.
"What can be so horrible?" Susan rubbed Muriel's arm
and took up her gloved hand. "This cannot be. Tell me what
I must do for you, dearest."
There was nothing Susan could do.
Muriel pulled free from her friend. "I will be fine, Sukey.
Pray you, give me a moment to collect myself." She sniffed
and pressed her cheeks with the palms of her hands and
squeezed her eyes closed, attempting to calm herself and
regain self-control.