Elizabeth Mansfield (21 page)

He'd hoped to escape the house without having to endure another interview with his mother (she'd already wormed enough of the story out of him to suspect that it was the mother, not the daughter, who'd captured her son's heart), but he found her waiting at the bottom of the stairs. She looked so troubled he could not feel annoyed. "How do I look?" he asked with forced good spirits.

"You needn't go through with this, Jemmy," she said worriedly. "It can't be worth sacrificing all hopes of future happiness just to honor your word."

"Wasn't it you who said to me, not over a month ago, that once I 'take the plunge into wedlock,' everything will be fine?"

"Perhaps I did. But that was before I suspected—"

"Suspected what?"

"That you'd lost your heart to another."
 

"You deduced that, did you?"

"It did not take the mind of a genius. There's a certain look in your eyes every time the name of Cassie Beringer is mentioned."

"I'll get over it. And meanwhile, it will help if you put it out of your mind, Mama. I have no hopes in that direction. And since there's little to be gained in dwelling on an impossibility, I shall try to find happiness where there is at least
some
slight possibility of achieving it."

His mother gave him a brave smile as he took his leave, but her heart was not eased. She'd put together the meager bits and pieces of the story, and she knew now that if she hadn't interfered by going to Inglesby Park that day and telling him what she believed he ought to do, her son might never have found himself in such a coil. How dreadful, she thought in guilty misery, that mothers, while meaning well, so often barge into their children's lives and bring ruin.

Jeremy had sent word that he would call, so both Lady Schofield and Cicely were expecting him. Eva was almost beside herself with excitement. That her favorite candidate for her niece's hand, her dearest Jeremy, was still interested in pursuing her niece was almost too wonderful to believe. She tried her best to present a calm appearance, but the tremors of her fingers and knees were a good indication of the turmoil within.

Cicely, on the other hand, was strangely placid. She knew that her aunt believed that Jeremy was coming to make an offer, but she herself rejected that possibility. He hadn't come up to snuff the first time because he realized he didn't love her. And nothing had occurred, not one thing in all the weeks since, to cause him to change his mind. They'd been in the same house for a month or more and barely passed the time of day. No, she told herself, there had to be another reason.

He arrived right on time, looking resplendent in his town garb and bearing an armload of flowers, which he presented with admirable elan to his hostess. Eva, blushing and breathless, led him to the drawing room, where Cicely sat waiting. Using the flowers he'd so conveniently provided as her excuse to leave them alone, she trotted off, babbling about finding "a proper vase and some water for these beautiful blooms."

Cicely welcomed him with warmth and made room for him beside her on the sofa. "My, but you look splendid, Jeremy," she said in greeting, surprised that she'd lost the shyness she used to feel in his presence. "Have you just come to town?"

He decided to plunge right in. "Yes, just yesterday. And with the express purpose of coming to see you."

Her brows rose in sincere surprise. "Really? Why is that?"

"Need you ask? Surely you remember that, a mere six weeks ago, you were sitting beside me in a carriage—looking, I recall, almost as lovely as you do now—and we were engaged in an important conversation which I suddenly cut short."

"Yes, of course I remember. But—"
 

"I want to pick up the threads of that conversation now, if I may."

"You can't mean it!" She gaped at him in shock. "Are you saying you want to
offer
for me?"

"I don't blame you for your astonishment. I've been a slowtop beyond all reason. But I'm determined to make up to you for the delay by hurrying you into wedlock with all haste and spending the rest of my life making you as happy as I can."

"Jeremy! I don't believe a
word
of this! You don't love me. You never have."

It was his turn to be astonished. He'd never expected so frank an outburst from this hitherto shy young miss. "What makes you think that?" he asked in discomfort.

"Why should I not think it? I lived in your manor house for weeks without receiving so much as a glance from you."

"Come now, Cicely, that's not true. The situation was not conducive to—" He ran his fingers nervously through his hair. "After all, your mother's illness—"

"I'm not blaming you, Jeremy, not at all! You were a godsend to Mama, and I shall always be grateful. But you cannot pretend to have given me a single thought in all that time. Why, any stranger who might have happened in would have believed you were more taken with
Mama
than with me."

He stared at her in a kind of panic, his innards knotting in tension. How could he counter her clear-eyed honesty with no more ammunition than this deplorable deceit he'd sworn to foist on her? "Dash it, Cicely," he exclaimed in desperation, "I was distracted, I admit. But I've had time since then to... to think. If I neglected you, I'm truly sorry." He reached out and took her hands in his. "Please believe me, my dear. It shall never happen again, I give you my word."

"I don't
want
your word for that, Jeremy. I don't understand why you're making these promises."

"Because I want you to wed me. It's as simple as that."

"But have you noticed, my dear," she pointed out gently, "that there's one thing you haven't said? You haven't said that you love me."

He gulped. "What else can I
mean
when I ask you to be my wife?"

"I don't know. But I know it isn't love." She wriggled her hands from his hold. "I've learned a bit about love since you first courted me, you see. That's why I must decline your very overwhelming offer."

"Decline it?" He was startled, astounded, horrified. The one thing he hadn't expected was to be declined. How had he managed to botch this affair so badly? Cassie would never understand. Or forgive him. "Cicely, my dear, are you sure?" he asked lamely. "Sometimes young ladies like to be coaxed—"

"I don't need to be coaxed. I'm quite sure." She stood up and looked down at him, her eyes misty with girlish regret. "I'm truly sorry."

He rose and took her hands again. "I don't wish to discomfit you any more than I already have, my dear," he said softly, "but I must ask this. Are you sure you're not declining my offer because I was foolish enough to hurt you before? As a kind of—forgive me for sounding like a coxcomb, but I so sincerely wish to win you that I must try every avenue—as an instinctive need for... revenge?"

"No, truly, that's not the reason," she assured him. "I think I would have thrown my arms about your neck and said yes in spite of everything, if something else hadn't happened to me since that day in the carriage."

"What happened to you?"

She dropped her eyes. "I fell in love," she said. "Madly."
 

"Good God!" He gaped at her in bewilderment. She was full of surprises this evening. How could Cassie have sent him on this wild-goose chase without a word of warning? No, she wouldn't have sent him if she'd known. "But your mother didn't say— Dash it, girl, why haven't you told her?"

Cicely blinked at him. "How do you know I haven't?"

He winced. He'd put his foot in it this time. How was he to answer without botching up this interview even more? "Because I went to her before coming here, to get her permission," he improvised.

"Did you? How very thoughtful, Jeremy! Really. I'm quite touched."

"But that's no answer. How is it she doesn't know?"

"Because I haven't told her. Because she would not approve. He... the man in question... is even older than you."

"I see." He took a deep breath and tried to make sense of all this. "Older than I, eh?"

"Yes, but only by a bit."

"Then what's the predicament?"

"Mama does not believe that there should be large age discrepancies between husbands and wives. There was a twenty-year disparity between her and my father, you see, and I believe the marriage was not a happy one. My aunt Eva has hinted to me that the man had a monstrous temper and mistreated my mother."

He felt the blood rush from his face. "I had no idea—!"

"That's why she's such a recluse. I think she dreads the idea of marrying again."

Jeremy stood rooted to the spot, trying to digest this information. Poor, lovely Cassie. How he yearned to prove to her that he was different, that he could never hurt her, that he would only love and protect her, that he would spend his life making her happy. He wondered how much Cassie's past accounted for her reluctance to marry him. It was ironic to think that he'd refrained from declaring himself until she could "remember love," yet the only love she was able to remember was one she ought to forget.

But he could not stand here before Cicely like a gaping fool. She'd rejected him quite unequivocally. There was nothing for it now but to take his leave of her. He started to the door. "But, Cicely," he felt impelled to add before departing, "perhaps you should tell your mother of your feelings. She may have had a change of heart about the age question. After all, she gave her blessing to me."

"That's so, isn't it? She did!" Thoughtfully she took his arm in a friendly way and walked with him toward the door. "But there's no point in my doing so until the deuced man in question realizes that he loves me."

He stopped in his tracks. "Do you mean, silly child, that this fellow has not had the good sense to declare himself? He must be a fool, and therefore you should give him up directly."

She giggled. "He'll declare himself soon enough. I have a plan to entrap him."

They paused on the threshold. "Seriously, my dear," he asked, "are you certain I can't make you change your mind?"

"Yes, quite certain. In spite of being thoroughly aware that you're the very nicest man in the world."

"Yes, of course I am. That's why you're so madly in love with someone else. Very well, I'll bid you good night. I hope everything comes about as you wish it."

"You
are
the very nicest man in the world, you know," she called after him. "I wish you'd offer for Mama. You did get on so well together at the Park. Everyone noticed it. But I suppose you think her too old for you."

Jeremy threw her a quick glance. "Much too old," he said.

Chapter 30

Jeremy knew his mother would be waiting. He didn't even try to avoid her. After pouring himself a brandy from a bottle in the drawing room, he went directly to the sitting room, where she was pretending to be busy with her embroidery frame. Wordlessly, he dropped into an armchair opposite her, lifted the glass and stared into the amber liquor as if he could discover in it the answer to the riddle of life.

His mother studied his face for a moment, but could read nothing in it. "Well?" she demanded. "Am I to wish you happy?"

"I thought you were so adept at reading my eyes that I didn't need to tell you anything."

"Jackanapes! Tell me!"

His took a swig of his drink. "She rejected me."

Lady Sarah's mouth dropped open. "I don't believe it."

"Of course you don't. How could anyone reject your son? Then you will surely not believe that she's in love with someone else. Madly."

"Is she, indeed? The girl must be a fool."

He glowered at her. "She's every bit as charming and lovely as she was when you chose her for me. More so, in fact."

"Are you now saying that you're sorry you've lost her?"

"No, of course not. The truth is, I'm a great deal relieved."

"Naturally. Now you can go and offer for the mother." The words were scarcely off her tongue when she clapped her hands to her mouth. "No! You must erase those words from your mind. I made myself a vow that I would not ever again interfere in your life."

He smiled wryly. "Can it be? No, no, that's quite beyond the realm of possibility. Never again to interfere? It goes beyond all motherly instincts."

"Nevertheless, I shall try. So don't pay any mind to what I said about offering for Lady Beringer."

"I won't. Not only because I have for many years been capable of taking my own advice, but because I'd already decided that to offer for her would be a useless exercise."

"Why?

"I don't think she'll have me either."

Lady Sarah opened her mouth to object, but then closed it again. It was very difficult to refrain from giving advice, but she sincerely wished to mend her ways. Nevertheless, was there any harm in merely encouraging him to discuss the matter? She sewed a few stitches while she reviewed in her mind what she might safely say. "Really, Jemmy, I don't understand you," she said last. "I had the distinct impression that there was a strong attraction between you and Cassandra Beringer."

He smiled at her noticeable—and noticeably unsuccessful— struggle to keep from meddling. "Yes, Mama, but evidently not strong enough on Cassie's part to compete with mother love. You, my dear, are living proof that mother love is stronger than any other emotion. Cassie's feeling for me is much too mild to overcome that."

"But there is no longer any mother love to compete with, is there?" she asked, throwing all her vows to the wind in her desire to see the pain gone from her son's eyes. "You did as she asked; you offered for the daughter. You can't be blamed if the girl refused you."

"Cassie will blame me. She will say I didn't try hard enough. And she'd be right. I made a mull of the business."

"Oh, come now, Jemmy, this is too much self-blame! The girl's heart was elsewhere. So how could the 'mull' be of your making?"

"I couldn't bring myself to say the crucial words."
 

"What crucial words?"

" ‘I love you’. They come easily to the tongue, don't they? But I couldn't say them."