Corey McFadden (17 page)

“Well, I must say I didn’t think Caroline was the woman for Julian Thorpe,” said Helen Ames, thoughtfully, observing Julian’s back disappearing into the crowd. “I’d say you’d be right at that, my dear,” replied Wesley. “I do not think it’s Caroline who has Julian’s attention.”

“But the boy said ‘Miss Quinn’... oh, I declare, Wesley, you don’t mean he’s sweet on the quiet little cousin, do you? I understood from Caroline that her family is quite impoverished.”

“So I understand, but Julian’s accounts are prodigious and I don’t think he much cares what she has.”

“My word, how extraordinarily refreshing,” said Helen, tucking her arm into the crook of her husband’s. He gave her hand a squeeze and she answered with a little smile meant just for him. “Julian Thorpe has gone up considerably in my estimation, Wesley,” she added. “I do believe I might allow you to remain friends with him after all.”

Wesley answered with a hoot of laughter and they wandered off, arm in arm, in search of refreshment.

* * * *

Julian moved as quickly as he could through the throng, stopping for no more than a cursory greeting whenever he absolutely must. Elspeth could not be off on her own for long without exciting comment. The labyrinth was well away from the site of the musicale, a good thing, considering that the quality of the music was not what drew the
ton
to the gardens. As he drew near the labyrinth he could see that two men in Sydney Gardens livery lounged at the entrance, but no one else seemed to be about.

“Evening, sir. Mr. Thorpe, i’n’t?” said one of the men, touching his cap. Julian gave him a nod, annoyed and surprised that he could be so well known among the public staff. The man stepped aside, letting him through, while the other man took off at a trot without so much as a nod. “The lady is waitin’,” the first man said, his eyes flat. Julian looked about quickly. Seeing no one close enough by to recognize him, he ducked in, then hurried through the turns as directed, marveling that Elspeth had made such a quick study. He was quite sure she had said she’d never been to Sydney Gardens before. Still, he blessed her resourcefulness. A few moments alone with her would be worth the painful warbling still to come on the evening’s programme.

He was drawing near to the center of the labyrinth and he had not seen a soul, which was rather unusual. Dismissing his misgivings with a shrug, he turned the last corner, and beheld—blond hair, not the dark brown of his beloved; a brightly colored, befrilled gown, not the quiet elegance of Elspeth’s attire. Caroline. Not Elspeth at all, but Caroline! What malevolent nonsense was this?

The figure stood with her back to him but she turned and, with a cry, rushed forward. As she approached, his eyes resolved the details. She was greatly disheveled, her hair tumbling from its pins, and her neckline was pulled askew, one shoulder exposed. Only luck held the rest of it in place.

“Julian! Thank God you’ve come!” she cried, launching herself at him with a sob.

“Caroline, what on earth has happened?” he asked. She sagged against him and his arms went around her to hold her up.

“Just hold me, Julian, help me!” she sobbed into his chest. Helpless and horrified, he patted her back while she shuddered in his arms. Someone had attacked her, and now he was duty bound to find out the cad and set things to rights. But why now? Why him?

“Who has hurt you, Caroline?” he murmured soothingly into her hair. “We’ll find him and settle the score. But in the meantime, let’s get you all straightened up. No one needs to know a thing about this.” He tried to disentangle himself gently, but Caroline clung tenaciously, her arms wrapped tightly about his neck.

“Caroline, listen to me,” he began again. “Someone might come and that would make things worse. Let’s try to get you looking presentable.” With his hands at her waist, he tried to push her gently free, but she wouldn’t budge.

“Believe me, I’ll see to it that this cad wishes he’d never laid eyes on you,” he tried again lamely. “Let’s sit down on the bench….” He could get no more words out as Caroline suddenly raised her face and planted her lips squarely on his mouth. At the same instant he became aware of voices close behind him. “Mmmphh,” was all he managed to grunt, trying to pull his head back, but Caroline had reached up and clasped her hands around the back of his neck in a viselike grip.

“Well, Bettina, I see felicitations are in order. When will the wedding be? Soon, I fervently hope.”

Oh, God, please let that not be Lady Haverford’s voice. The old biddy was one of the most voluble-tongued of the
ton
.

Suddenly Caroline let go and Julian stumbled back.

“Caroline!” came Bettina Quinn’s horrified tones, as her daughter’s disheveled appearance was revealed in all its shocking detail. But Caroline just stood there with a sly little smile on her face, slowly—too slowly—pulling up the shoulder of her gown.

“Well, old man,” Edgar’s voice intruded, with something of a harrumph. “No point in keeping this engagement a secret any longer.”

Burning with rage and shame, Julian drew himself up and turned to confront this outrageous circus act. And stared right into Elspeth’s eyes. He started forward, an explanation on his lips, but even as he moved, her face drained of color and his beloved slipped slowly to the ground, insensible.

He started forward to her. “Elspeth, no! This isn’t what it seems!” he murmured, as he went down on one knee and gathered her in his arms. “Caroline, for the love of God, tell her!” he cried, but as he looked up at Caroline, waiting for her to step forward and clear up this abominable mess, he saw the truth in her eyes. She smiled at him, a slow and malicious smile.

“Why don’t you see to my cousin, Mr. Randall?” she asked, almost purring at Edgar. “I’m sure my affianced would prefer to be relieved of his burden.”

“Caroline, don’t do this!” Julian raged through clenched teeth. Elspeth lay limp in his arms. He dared not let her go.

“I believe we’ve all had quite a shock, Mr. Thorpe,” Bettina Quinn broke in hastily. “Your...ah, engagement”—she emphasized the word slightly—“was supposed to be a secret for now. Still,” she prattled on hurriedly, “I’m sure Lady Haverford is relieved to know that a wedding has been in the works for some time. Nevertheless,” she went on, her voice gaining in strength and purpose, “Caroline, I’m ashamed of your immodesty, and, Mr. Thorpe, your haste bespeaks your love for my daughter, but not your judgment. Mr. Randall, if you’d be so kind as to see to my niece….?  I can’t think why the gel has to make more trouble by swooning. No purpose to be served in that.”

Julian watched as Edgar Randall stepped forward, noticing in an oddly incongruous thought that his friend’s shoes were almost certainly brand new, something unusual for Edgar, who was known to be short of funds for even the barest of necessities.

“If you don’t mind, old man,” Edgar said softly, bending down, “I think you’d best go with Mrs. Quinn and Caroline. I’ll see to Miss Quinn.”

Julian looked up at him, rage at war with despair in his heart. Trapped! Trapped like a rat by a scheming minx, and, no doubt, her equally culpable mother. He felt Elspeth stir in his arms and all else was forgotten.

He looked down into the swimming green depths of her eyes and beheld utter contempt. “Elspeth...” he murmured.

“Let me up,” she spat out at him in a barely audible whisper. “Let go of me and never come near me again.”

For a moment he just stared at her, saw in her eyes that all was lost.

“Miss Quinn, allow me to help you,” said Edgar gently. She reached up and grasped his extended hands. He pulled her away from Julian and set her on her feet.

“Julian, let’s go!” barked Caroline imperiously, her hair and gown now miraculously in order. But Julian stood his ground watching as Elspeth moved resolutely forward, on Edgar’s arm, never glancing back. Lady Haverford cast one amused and knowing glance about her, then hurried to catch up with the pair as they disappeared around the first turn in the shrubbery. Alone now with the scheming harpies, Julian turned slowly to face them. He did not think Caroline cared for the look on his face.

Chapter Nine

“Excellent sensibilities, my dear child,” Lady Haverford murmured in Elspeth’s ear, tucking her claw-like hand under Elspeth’s arm as they departed the labyrinth. “I, too, would have been shocked senseless at such a sight at your age. You must convey my respects to your mother. I am most impressed with your upbringing. Too few young ladies these days have the sensitive breeding so necessary to a mannerly society....” Elspeth could no longer be bothered to follow the thread of this inane conversation. It was all she could do to put one foot in front of the other. Edgar held her arm as if she were about to slip under the waves for the third time, patting her hand as if she were an imbecile in need of sedation. The Chinese lanterns danced madly in the trees; the hideous warble of the musicale assaulted her ears. They strolled through a nightmare, some kind of monstrous, genteel hell. All about her, ladies and gentlemen nodded and smiled politely, as if the world had not stopped spinning on its axis.

Elspeth bit her lip to stop its infuriating trembling. She blinked back the tears that threatened to spill out and bring her to one final humiliation this hateful evening.

What in the name of all heaven had she expected? That a gentleman the likes of Julian Thorpe, a great toff of the
ton,
wealthy and urbane, had actually stooped to love an impoverished Miss Nobody Much from Weston-under-Lizard? That all his talk of love and marriage had been anything more than the prattle and gamesmanship of a bored and callow rake, self-amusement his only goal in life? She was a fool, an idiot. And now a brokenhearted fool and idiot. She closed her eyes, biting back a sob. Perhaps Julian and Caroline were laughing at her even now, strolling back this way, nodding and smiling, arm-in-arm, Caroline prattling of wedding finery, Julian regretting only that the country fool had caught him out before surrendering her virtue at last. And how close she had come! Just last night she had allowed his hands to roam, gasping with the unexpected pleasure of his touch. Her face flamed at the thought.

“Hester, dear! I’ve the most exciting news!” hallooed Lady Haverford, dropping Elspeth’s arm as if it were on fire, and making off in the direction of a lady who looked, if anything, more formidable than she. Now the cat was out of the bag.

“Would you like to sit down, Miss Quinn?” came a gentle question from Edgar Randall, who continued to pat her hand.

“I should like to return to my aunt’s house immediately,” Elspeth forced out the words through teeth clenched to keep them from chattering. She held herself as stiff as she could, but a shudder ran through her just the same.

“If you’ll pardon the liberty, Miss Quinn, I don’t think that would be wise just now. Do you think you could manage to act as if nothing at all is amiss? You don’t really know these people. They thrive on any hint of scandal—or another’s pain, for that matter.” Edgar sounded almost as bitter as she felt. But his voice was kind. Resisting the urge to sink to the ground with a wail, Elspeth allowed Edgar to lead her over to a bench, far enough from the music that it was a distant cacophony. “May I get you some refreshment?” he asked, seating her.

“No, thank you, sir,” she replied by rote. Her mind was chasing around in circles, spiraling ever downward. Julian did not love her. He had never loved her. It had all been a game, nothing more than that. Any young lady bred into the
ton
would have known that much and played a winning hand. Country fools were the losers. She wanted to scream. She would go home. Take Harry and quit this awful place where no one meant a word uttered, and to cause someone pain was to entertain all.

“Ah, there you are,” her aunt’s voice added to the already unpleasant din. “Mr. Randall, may I have a word with you?”

“Certainly, madam,” answered Edgar, but his tone was frosty and aloof.

Aunt Bettina cast an anxious eye at her niece, but plunged on. “I’m sure I do not need to tell you how awkward and precarious this situation is. I know I can rely on your discretion as a gentleman. Caroline and dear Julian have been engaged secretly for some time, of course, and I’m afraid their impatience got the better of their judgment...” she trailed off, obviously noting that Edgar did not appear to be thawing toward her.

“I rather thought Julian’s affections were engaged elsewhere,” Edgar put in, flicking his cuff with bored affectation.

“Yes, well, I’m sure that was an easy mistake to make,” Aunt Bettina answered hurriedly, casting an angry glance at Elspeth. “They were so anxious to keep the engagement a secret. It was to be announced at the Viscountess Alderson’s ball tomorrow night, you know,” she offered, breathless. “We are just a bit beforehand here,” she went on, with a nervous chuckle, as if she were making a small joke. Very small.

“Indeed,” was all Edgar replied, one eyebrow cocked, a smile closer to a sneer on his lips.

“Perhaps you might call on me privately tomorrow so we may discuss this further—come to some mutual—ah, agreement on the matter that would suit us all,” Aunt Bettina offered. The innuendo was deafening. She was offering a bribe. Had Elspeth been capable of any farther feeling, she would have been shocked.

“I’m afraid I have engagements tomorrow, Mrs. Quinn,” he responded coolly.

“I see,” Aunt Bettina replied, considering. Elspeth was saved from wondering what her aunt would next pull out of her hat by the appearance of her cousin Caroline. Julian was nowhere to be seen, thank goodness.

“Where is Mr. Thorpe?” asked her mother.

“He’s run off to talk with friends,” Caroline answered, but her cheeks were mottled red and her eyes snapped with anger. She turned to her cousin. “I trust you’re enjoying your first visit to Sydney Gardens, Elspeth? It’s a glorious evening, isn’t it?” Caroline asked, her tone singing with malicious enjoyment. Elspeth turned away from her cousin’s smug smile, in time to see a look of incredulity and anger cross Edgar Randall’s features.

* * * *