An Improper Companion (19 page)

I wrinkled my nose. “Lady Willby? Very well, if you wish it, Leslie. But, indeed, I cannot recall who she is, nor
understand
why the invitation comes so late...”

Melinda began to laugh. I stared at her in amazement, and after a moment, she explained, “You know her very well, Heather! Lisa! Lisa Stanton who left school two years ago. You were always helping her with her history. She finally married this year. How famous ... you
must
go, Heather. I am sure the invitation comes so late only because she has just I discovered who
you
are.”

I was easily convinced, for I remembered Lisa with affection. She had been neither handsome nor clever, but always amiable. As soon as Leslie left to inform the messenger of our reply, Melinda rose. “I must be leaving, Heather,” she said. “But I am glad to have seen you and shall again. And I am glad to find you happy.”

I smiled wryly at her words and murmured the conventional phrases as she prepared to leave. Then she was gone and Leslie returned. “You’re managing very well,” he said. “Soon there will be no house where you are not welcome.”

He noted my confusion, for he placed a hand on my shoulder and asked, “What troubles you?”

I shrugged helplessly. “Leslie ... they would not welcome me if they knew the truth ... I ...”

He gathered me up in his arms. “Calm yourself, Heather. You’ve no need to feel an outsider. You do belong. Where is your courage?”

It was the right thing to ask of me. I sat erect. “You are quite right, Leslie. I shall not be such a pea-goose again.”

He smiled and touched my chin with a finger. Then he drew something from a pocket. It was a lovely painted fan. “Oh, thank you!” I cried, and kissed his cheek.

He smiled at me oddly and suddenly, unaccountably, I was nervous. I sprang up and muttered some excuse and left the room. Behind me, Leslie only smiled more strangely still.

Melinda had been correct. Lady Willby was Lisa. She greeted me eagerly. “So it
is
you! I am so glad, Heather. Good evening, Sir Leslie. Heather, I must introduce you to
everyone.
Some you’ll remember from school ... though as a rule, I avoid my old classmates.”

I understood that well enough. Lisa had never been popular, and I wondered how she had found a husband until I remembered that she had been an heiress. One of the very few to attend Mrs. Gilwen’s school.
That
had not aided her popularity. I found myself remembering little kindnesses, such as being taken to tea by her. It had been a small thing for her to buy us both sweet buns, but withal, a gesture few others had made. And now? It was perhaps a small thing to take pains to introduce me to each guest, but it was not a kindness I should soon forget. Last, she introduced us to her husband Drake, Lord Willby. As he smiled at us, half mockingly, I began to blush. For his eyes swept over me as though I stood unclothed. Instinctively I glanced at Lisa, who stood unhappily beside him. I dared not look at Leslie. Instead I stared at Lord Willby as coldly and haughtily as I could manage. He continued to smile, but rather more coldly himself. He spoke to Leslie. “Now that I have seen your charming wife, I am even angrier that you did not tell me of her beforehand. I should have liked to dance at your wedding.”

Leslie’s voice was cool but calm. “Indeed? I am sorry to have disappointed you, then. We preferred a small ceremony, however, as my wife suffers from shyness.”

I did my best to look shy. Lord Willby’s voice continued silkily, “We have heard of her romantic background. Tell me, how did you meet? No doubt that also is romantic.”

Leslie lied without hesitation. “I saw her at the theatre once when she had gone as someone-or-other’s guest. I was intrigued and asked a few discreet questions to learn her identity. Not wishing to beard the dragon, Mrs. Gilwen, I contrived to accidentally encounter her outside.”

Lord Willby seemed disappointed. When he spoke again, it was in a different tone. “By the by, Leslie, a curious thing has occurred. The domestic agency I once suggested to you closed a month or two ago. Mr. Thornsby was the director.”

I held myself rigid. But Leslie seemed not in the least disturbed. “Oh? How curious, as you say. Fortunately such matters are now my wife’s concern. Still, I once found their services quite useful.”

I felt a cold rage growing in me. How dare Leslie speak so casually of ... of that man! Yet I could not betray that I knew of what they spoke. I said in a light voice, “Surely, there are any number of excellent domestic agencies in London? Personally, I should distrust a man to supply me female servants. Only a woman understands such matters.”

Both men smiled and Leslie squeezed my waist reassuringly. And I knew I had allayed any suspicions Lord Willby
might have had. Lisa, silent until now, suggested the card games begin and we found places. The stakes were small, and though I played well, I did not truly care whether I won or lost. My table was congenial and I enjoyed myself.

At midnight, a supper was served and I was again with . Lisa. We talked some, but there was a sense of constraint that arose because of her husband. Yet I felt Lisa needed a friend more than she ever had at school. So I invited her to come to tea within the week. She tilted her chin as she replied, “Thank you, Heather, but I cannot. Drake has decreed I leave for our country house tomorrow. You see I...” She blushed. “I may be breeding and Drake wishes me to pass the next few months quietly and comfortably, away from London.”

I did not know what to say. I was deeply shocked, for I saw that Lisa was not eager to go. And what should her husband be doing in London while she were away? I did not want to guess. Nonetheless I forced myself to say, “Felicitations, my dear Lisa! Well, then, you must come to see me when you return to London. And write to me.”

She smiled shyly, and with relief that I did not speak those thoughts we both held. Soon after, Leslie appeared, and making our excuses, we left. In the barouche I found myself I releasing my pent-up rage. With a clenched fist, I struck the seat. “Poor Lisa! How can she bear being married to that ... that court-card?”

At Leslie’s look of surprise, I told him about Lisa’s condition and her move to the country. He did not speak but his face revealed he felt much as I did. “Oh, Leslie,” I said impulsively, “I’m glad you are not like Lord Willby!”

“Are you so sure of me?” he asked.

I looked at him in shock. “You are not ... you would not ... no, I don’t believe it of you!”

“I thought you considered me utterly depraved?” he said quietly.

“I ... I ...”

I fell silent. No, I knew Leslie was, not so bad as Lisa’s husband. Yet I could not speak freely as I wanted to. In the darkness, I felt Leslie’s eyes on me, and then after a few moments he said, “I know it could not have been easy to hear us speak of Mr. Thornsby, but I dared not do otherwise. “I ... Heather, do you truly regret being forced to marry me?”

“You know that is not what I regret,” I whispered, and even in the darkness, I felt him flinch.

“That cannot be undone,” he said.

“No, nor yet forgotten,” I answered softly.

In silence, then, we rode to the town house. And because I could not bear the look of frustration on his face, I fled at once to my room. But I could not run from my own thoughts. Round and round they went long after Ellen had left me for the night. Yet late as I lay awake, I did not hear Leslie come to his room. I did not doubt that he felt as haunted as I. Never had I felt so tempted to go to him. Yet I could not, should not forgive him.

Could I?

Chapter 17

I woke late the next morning, almost at noon. When I chided Ellen for letting me sleep, she replied, “But my lady, I had not the heart to wake you. You seemed so tired, and with the ball tonight...
”

“Very well,” I said, forcing myself awake.

As I dressed I asked if Leslie had also slept late. “Oh, no, my lady. He rose at his usual hour. In a brown study today, one of the footmen told me. Refused his breakfast and went out without a word to anyone.”

“Thank you, Ellen,” I said, trying to avoid the question in her eyes.

Was he angry? At me? I could not absolve myself of guilt. And yet, and yet, what was I to do? Not wishing to brood, I informed Ellen I would accompany her to Mademoiselle Suzette’s establishment to pick up my new ball gown. “Yes, my lady,” she said with some surprise.

I had not set foot in Mademoiselle’s establishment since the day Leslie had found me there. Always I had sent Ellen or another servant to fetch or leave orders. I was not altogether sure I wanted to go there now. But I had to get out of the house. Perhaps I secretly hoped to have Mademoiselle give me advice about Leslie. A naive notion, but then, I was a naive young woman.

Dragon (whom I could not think of by any other name) showed us to a fitting room and took Ellen with her to fetch the gown. This required some time for it seemed half of London society would be at this night’s ball, and many of the women ordered their dresses from Mademoiselle Suzette. At last Ellen returned. The dress was silver again. It fit me perfectly, of course, and yet I could not help longing for a dress which would make me appear older and more mature. Mademoiselle Suzette entered just in time to hear me voice my thoughts aloud. She cocked her head to one side. “Monsieur ... Sir Leslie ... does not wish it.” I flushed angrily, and signalling Ellen to leave us, she stepped closer. “You are a little pea-hen. Do you not understand?
Oui, mon enfant,
I could dress you as you wish. And all of London would say, ‘Yes, that is the sort of
hussy
to trap Sir Leslie.’ You must to look innocent.”

My shoulders drooped in resignation. Would we never have done with such worries? Mademoiselle Suzette placed a hand on my arm. “What is wrong,
ma petite
?”

I shrugged and moved away. The memory of her treachery warred with my desire to tell someone how I felt. She must have read much from my face for she said, “
Pauvre enfant!
You still are apart? Do you think him so terrible ... worse than other men?”

“No!” I said. Then: “You do not understand.”

“You are wrong. I understand much. But I believe Sir Leslie to be a good man, also. And I believe that if you persist too long like this, he will lose patience. He is not a man to be long lonely, and he will easily find a woman to please him. And then you will understand what you have lost.
Tiens!
From your face I would say you do not hate him so very much. Perhaps you begin to care?
Enfin,
you must not to let a stupid pride keep you from him. You...”

She broke off as someone knocked at the door. It was Dragon. “Excuse me, Mademoiselle, but you are needed at once. The duchess...”

Mademoiselle Suzette nodded. She squeezed her hand on my arm and was gone. A few minutes later, Ellen returned. She was in excellent spirits, having spent the time with the seamstresses, even, she confided, helping with one of the hems. As Ellen fastened up my dress she chattered, repeating the gossip she had heard. Soon the ball gown was packed and we departed. We had not come in Leslie’s barouche but by hackney, and I determined we should walk a bit. There were nearby shops displaying various goods: trinkets, hats, gloves, shawls ... On impulse, I entered a shop and purchased a pair of fine gloves for Leslie. It required most of the money left in my reticule, but I did not care. Feeling rather lighthearted, I hailed a cab and we rode back to the town house.

As I drew off my bonnet and mittens in the foyer I asked after Leslie, eager to give him my present. But he was not at home. I sent Ellen upstairs with careful instructions as to what I should wear with my gown and at what time to draw my bathwater. Then I proceeded to the library, still clutching the gloves.

The library at the town house was not such a comfortable room as the library in the castle. Somehow it seemed too formal. Yet by its very function, it was a refuge to me. I took down a book and began to read. Each time I heard footsteps, I would look up, hoping to see Leslie, and I found myself listening for the sound of the front door. But he did not come. At four, one of the maids brought me a light tea. It grew later and still Leslie did not return. Finally I mounted the stairs to dress. At Leslie’s chamber, I paused and knocked. Peter was, as I expected, laying out Leslie’s evening clothes. “Yes, my lady?” he asked respectfully. “I am afraid Sir Leslie is not here.”

“Yes ... yes, I know that,” I replied self-consciously. “Could you ... please give this to him when he returns?”

“Yes, my lady.”

And then the door was closed. Slowly, I continued to my chamber. Ellen was waiting.

When I descended later, I found Leslie waiting in the drawing room, dressed for the ball. He bowed but did not comment on my gown. Nor did he mention the-gloves. And I had not the courage to ask if he had liked them. Before we could speak, the footman announced the arrival of Lord and Lady Pellen. They were to dine with us and ride in our carriage to the ball. Phyllis wore a blue satin gown that set off her blond hair perfectly. My father was dressed in the same careless elegance as Leslie. Phyllis drew me aside as the two men began to talk of business matters. “Well, Heather,” she began, “one hears you have made powerful friends in Town. Few young matrons have the ladies Ormsby, Rifton, and Crombie as sponsors.”

“Leslie’s aunts,” I said with a smile. “I met them at the theatre the same evening I met you.”

“You seem to have pleased them.”

“Who?” Leslie asked, moving to my side.

“Your aunts,” I explained.

Lord Pellen chuckled proudly. “Yes, my daughter is contriving quite well. Quite well indeed. I’ve made arrangements, Heather, by the by, and you will appear at the Queen’s drawing-room on the eleventh of next month.”

We moved to the dining room, I on father’s arm, Phyllis on Leslie’s. My father was in excellent humour. “You see? Everything is resolving itself quite nicely. You have the
entree
virtually everywhere. And pretty things, do you not? And from the look in Sir Leslie’s eyes when they rest on you, you can use him as you will.”

I blushed and shook my head but dared not answer. We were soon seated and it was with relief that I greeted my father’s new list of questions. For they were only a catechism, of my recent social activities, and therefore rather impersonal. Leslie listened quietly, adding from time to time a brief comment. Phyllis was also silent, save when we spoke of an event that had led to a mention of my name by one of her friends. I tried, now and again, to surprise Leslie’s eyes on me, hoping to catch sight of that which my father said I should find. But all I could read in those dark depths was a quiet mockery.

After what seemed an interminable time, we were rising from the table. The usual sorts of confusion and activity ensued before we left for the ball. And still Leslie had not mentioned the gloves.

The rooms were already crowded when we arrived, though my father warned me it was still early. Lady Pontworth was pleased to be gracious. “Ah, Lady Kinwell. One has heard much about you! You have tamed Sir Leslie Kinwell, it seems. Sir Leslie, your sister Lady Mary and her charming son are already here. Lord and Lady Pellen! How delighted I am to see you. Such a romantic story of your daughter. But then one expects romance of you. May I have the honour to present
my
daughter, Clarissa.”

A pale yet pretty girl curtsied to us. She seemed scarcely sixteen, but I knew she must have been my age. My father, of course, kissed her hand. “Charming, Lady Pontworth.”

We escaped as new guests took our place. The music was beginning and Leslie, ever courteous to others, led Lady Phyllis into the dance. My father, it seemed, did not care for dancing. “Let us instead find Lady Mary and pay our respects,” he suggested.

I nodded. I was not eager for the encounter, but I could not delay it forever, and she had been kind to me. She was sitting with several other women but sprang up as soon as she saw us. We embraced and then my father kissed her hand and took his leave. Mary and I moved to a quiet alcove before we began to talk. “Oh, Heather, my dear!” she began. “I was so worried about you! How have you fared? Does he treat you well? I am sorry for Philip’s indiscretion, but he is so young.”

I smiled wryly. “Yes, I am well and Leslie is kind enough. We deal much as before. As for Philip, I fear my own foolishness misled him. I am only sorry I could only leave a note for you. You had been so kind to me.”

My father returned and we were forced to talk of other matters. “And you?” I asked. “How have you and Philip fared?”

Mary began to chatter, speaking of her journey, her family, and London during the Season. I almost felt back in the castle again, away from the demands of the
ton.
Then someone placed a hand on my shoulder. I looked up to see Philip towering over me, his face an unreadable mask. And just as suddenly, his hand was gone, and he was bowing. “Mother. Aunt Heather. May I have the pleasure of this dance, Aunt Heather?”

I wanted to refuse but could not see how to do so without being rude. Instead I forced myself to smile and reply, “Certainly, Philip.”

He held out a hand and I took it, rising as I did so. It was a waltz and I held my breath as Philip’s arm went round me. But it was not tighter than was proper. For a moment, we said nothing, giving ourselves over to the dance. “You are very lovely tonight,” he began quietly. “No, don’t be alarmed. I shan’t make a cake of myself
again.
Ever since you left the castle, I’ve been thinking what I should say to you if we met. When I first read your note and heard you were gone, I was furious. I was afraid Leslie had hurt you and you had run away because of that, and the letter was meant to throw dust in our eyes. I came straightaway to London, sure you would try to contact me here. But you didn’t. You went back to Leslie.” His voice became tinged with bitterness, “I thought, at first, you had been dragged back and would run away again. And I was ready to help you. Even if you didn’t love me. But I began to see you often on the street or at the theatre, alone or with Leslie. And always you were laughing. And it was clear you had a
tendre
for my uncle. Then it came to me. You had used me to make Leslie jealous. It was a pleasant little game for you. But you caught cold, didn’t you, and had to run away. Knowing, of course, that my uncle would come after you. Well, you succeeded. Never have I seen a man so cast down as Leslie was that day, or the next when we found you had gone. My mother, of course, insists you are merely young and heedless and didn’t know what you were about.”

“Philip, I ... I ...”

“You what?
Were
you scheming to make him jealous? Or were you just so stupid?”

The music had stopped and we stood staring at each other. “I didn’t know,” I whispered. “But it was no scheme.”

He gave me his arm to escort me from the dance floor. “Doing it much too brown,” he said at last, wearily. “I only hope you’ve decided. Leslie isn’t the sort to wait forever to have a woman make up her mind. Not even when he loves her.” Then, in a completely different tone, “Oh, Lord! We’re for it now! Leslie must have seen us dancing. He’s coming toward us.”

I looked up. Leslie was indeed approaching, his eyes full of thunder. I stepped forward to meet it. “Leslie!” I said, forcing pleasure into my voice, “look whom I have found.” He halted and nodded to Philip, too well-mannered to let anger show in his voice or face. They exchanged polite words, then Leslie turned to me. “Shall we dance, madam?” I smiled graciously. As he put his arm around me, his eyes were growing darker. Before he could speak, I said hastily, “Your nephew has been scolding me roundly, sir.”

“Indeed? No doubt with justice, madam.”

“No doubt. He told me I had behaved monstrous bad
toward you
.”

That shook Leslie, as I hoped it would, and he missed a step. His arm also loosened, slightly, and his eyes were more quizzical than angry. “How curious,” he said as though it were a matter of no import, “of my nephew to take such an interest in my affairs. However, I wish he would not.”

There seemed nothing to say to that so I was silent. We danced quietly for several moments and I began to feel at ease, for I love to dance. Yet I was intolerably conscious of Leslie’s arm around me, and his dark eyes. The anger was gone from them, but yet they were not untroubled. Then finally the music was ended and a man of Leslie’s age stood near us. “Leslie, you must introduce me!” he commanded.

“Heather, this is Lord Weltham. Peter, this is my wife,” Leslie answered wryly. “I assume you have come to claim a dance?”

“But of course!”

“Very well. Heather, should he be impertinent, rap him smartly with your fan.” Leslie tempered this with a smile and then melted into the crush of people.

“My lady?” Lord Weltham was holding out his hand, and I was swept into the dance again. “I have been quite eager to make your acquaintance, Lady Kinwell,” my partner said.

“Why?” I asked in surprise.

He chuckled. “Leslie and I have much in common. We were both well on our way to becoming accepted misogynists. Then suddenly he married you. You must understand my consternation. I had considered both of us to be fairly impregnable to the matrimonial assaults of the fair sex. If
he
could capitulate so quickly—(and without warning)-—could it not happen to me? Naturally I have been eager to see what sort of sorceress had captured him.”