Gayle Buck (21 page)

Lord Trilby grinned and said cheerfully, “The very same, Sinjin.”

“Then I will go upstairs on the instant to smooth my appearance.” Viscount Weemswood said reflectively, “I still recall that her grace caught me with dirt clinging to my boots, and after a resounding scold dismissed me as no better than an untutored stable lad.”

Lord Trilby laughed outright.

Lord Heatherton exclaimed in amazement at this story. “You, Sinjin? Why, you are a veritable Corinthian! Everyone has always said so!”

“You must perceive, then, that the Grandduchess of Schaffenzeits was a considerable influence upon me in my impressionable youth,” the viscount said.

Mr. Underwood had been taking a gathering interest in the conversation. Now he leapt to his feet, saying in determination, “Miles, I must make myself presentable if I am to get the grandduchess to smile on me with favor.”

“Surely it is the Fräulein’s favor that you desire?” Viscount Weemswood murmured.

Mr. Underwood turned on the viscount and regarded him with pardonable resentment. “Damn you thrice over, Sinjin! I am streaked all over with mud and I have not my man with me, no, nor even a change of neckcloth!”

“Rest easy, my anxious friend. Nana made arrangements for our valets to follow us shortly, even sending round a note to your man. You may yet appear to tea in perfect sartorial splendor,” Viscount Weemswood said.

Mr. Underwood’s countenance cleared as though by magic. “Did you indeed, Nana? You are the best of fellows!”

“Oh, well, as to that I don’t know,” Lord Heatherton said with an embarrassed cough. “I do know that one must have one’s man, however, if one means to go into the country, and so I told Sinjin.”

“Nana insisted that we could not in honor abduct you without first making certain of your creature comforts,” Viscount Weemswood said.

“And thus I was made to endure a tumble into a ditch and a hike of three miles. I truly appreciate the effort, Nana!”

“Think nothing of it, for I am sure I do not,” Lord Heatherton said in his open way. He smiled in a good-natured fashion when the others laughed at him.

“It is already approaching the hour. I shall go up at once and do what I can to refurbish my appearance,” Mr. Underwood said. “You will send my man to me the moment he arrives, will you not. Miles?”

At the reminder of the time, the gentlemen had all risen.

Lord Trilby smiled as he accompanied Mr. Underwood to the door. “Certainly I shall do so. In the meantime, I shall send my own valet round to your room to sponge and press your coat.”

Mr. Underwood gratefully accepted this offer. “I stand in your eternal debt, Miles.”

“All obstacles must fall away in face of the inexorable pursuit of love,” Lord Trilby said dryly.

Mr. Underwood laughed. His good humor completely restored, he said, “I shall be making a longer visit with you than I intended, my lord. I find I’ve a taste for a deadly dull rustication.”

Then, along with the viscount and Lord Heatherton, he followed a footman who was to show them to their rooms.

Lord Trilby stood in the entry hall below, watching the three gentlemen ascend the stairs. A frown came to his face, as though he were contemplating a peculiarly difficult puzzle.

He knew that he could not cancel the dinner party at that late hour, especially not when the Grandduchess of Schaffenzeits had virtually arranged it herself. She had given it out that she was particularly interested in making the acquaintance of Lady Caroline’s aunt.

Lord Trilby had his own suspicions regarding the truth of that. In any event, her grace would never accept another trumped-up excuse without asking penetrating questions for which he had no answers.

Lord Trilby grimaced slightly. He had no alternative but to allow the dinner party to take place with the addition of three extra gentlemen at table. Three gentlemen, moreover, who were well enough acquainted with the state of the friendship between himself and Lady Caroline that they would be most surprised at any mention of an engagement.

He felt that he could trust his great-aunt to keep her word to maintain her discretion, but Mrs. Burlington was another matter altogether. That lady had always been beforehand in putting forward her opinions, and she had a magnificent disregard for anyone else’s sensibilities.

Mrs. Burlington also had a thirst for claiming illustrious acquaintances. Lord Trilby could well imagine the pleasure Mrs. Burlington would take in establishing herself in the eyes of a trio of London gentlemen as the future-in-law to the Grandduchess of Schaffenzeits. He could also imagine the lengths to which he himself would be driven to stop Mrs. Burlington from informing the whole party of the same interesting item.

“What a damnable farce it will be,” he muttered.

What had previously seemed so simple was fast assuming unmanageable proportions. The deception casually entered into for the Grandduchess of Schaffenzeits’ benefit was becoming more complicated than he could ever have conceived. If he had been wiser, he would have listened more closely to his secretary’s cautionings.

The earl’s thoughts came full circle and he wondered again how he was to keep his friends ignorant of his supposed engagement to Lady Caroline.

It was impossible, of course. Mrs. Burlington was bound to make some sort of reference to it that he would not be able to smooth over in time. Though Lord Heatherton might not catch it up on the instant, Lord Trilby had no such doubts about either Viscount Weemswood or Mr. Underwood. Those gentlemen would certainly wonder to hear such a fantastic claim, and he would not be able to refute it without creating just the sort of scene that he most desired to avoid with the grandduchess.

In addition, it had never been Lord Trilby’s intention to expose Lady Caroline to public speculation. It was not only this dinner party that would be involved, but the servants, in position to overhear the rumpus, would carry the tale throughout the neighborhood. Lady Caroline’s reputation would be wholly ruined and his own besmirched.

It went hard against the grain to even contemplate Lady Caroline placed in such an ignoble position. He felt that he could not leave something of such importance to the whims of chance and a simple hope for the best.

After a moment’s more reflection, Lord Trilby came to the unwelcome conclusion that he had no alternative but to take his friends at least partially into his confidence. He was certain that he could trust to their own innate discretion and good manners to spare Lady Caroline undue embarrassment. In addition, the gentlemen would carry no word of the unusual matter outside Walmesley, and in time it would be quite forgotten.

The difficult decision was made. Still to be sorted out was how he could best carry it out and, more to the point, what he would tell Lady Caroline concerning the matter. Somehow, Lord Trilby had the feeling that her ladyship would not be at all accepting of his decision.

Lord Trilby turned and made his way back to his study, his boots rapping sharply against the tiles.

Chapter Twenty-two

An hour later the gentlemen reassembled downstairs.

The Earl of Walmesley’s valet had waited on each of the gentlemen from London, expertly brushing coats and overseeing the cleaning of boots. The valet’s time had been most commandeered by Mr. Underwood, who understandably had withstood more damage to his attire than his companions owing to his unfortunate experience earlier that day.

Though there was nothing of the dandy about him, Mr. Underwood was nevertheless always careful of his appearance. In this instance, however, he took more care than was his usual wont. His hair was brushed neatly back and his pantaloons were smoothed creaseless into freshly polished boots. He fretted over what appeared to his eyes the crumpled state of his cravat, but he knew that there was nothing much that could be done with it. He restored the neckcloth as best as he was able, cursing the viscount again, and submitted to being aided back into his newly pressed coat by the earl’s valet.

A last inspection in the glass, a brushing away of an invisible mote of lint from his sleeve, and Mr. Underwood was at last satisfied with the effects of his limited toilet.

He was the last gentleman to emerge from his bedroom and therefore he had the exclusive gratification of meeting the ladies on the stairs.

Mr. Underwood civilly brought himself to the Grand-duchess of Schaffenzeits’ notice, remarking that he had had the honor of meeting Fräulein Gutenberg earlier when she had come down to the parlor in pursuit of the missing shawl. He managed to confine himself to a polite nod in the younger lady’s direction, even though it cost him dear not to express himself with more warmth. However he might have wished to do so, though, he could not disguise the light of admiration in his eyes.

“Indeed!” The Grandduchess Wilhelmina Hildebrande glanced thoughtfully from Mr. Underwood’s kindling glance to the Fräulein’s quiet smile. Fräulein Gutenberg’s dark eyes revealed only mild pleasure. “I have not had the opportunity to hear of your earlier meeting with Mr. Underwood, Marie.”

“I did not wish to disturb your rest unnecessarily, madam,” Fräulein Gutenberg said with perfect calm.

Mr. Underwood had always been swift with the feminine nuances, and he realized that the grandduchess was not best pleased to learn in such a roundabout fashion of the Fräulein’s small social adventure. He said quickly, “Then your grace was not aware that I and the others had arrived. Forgive me, madam. I would not have presumed to bring myself so familiarly to your notice if I had known. Despite the informality of our meeting, I hope that you will allow me to escort you downstairs.”

The Grandduchess Wilhelmina Hildebrande accepted the support of Mr. Underwood’s arm. As the trio started down the stairs, she said, “I confess to mild surprise to learn of the arrival of you and your companions. I was not aware that the earl planned to entertain us with company.”

“Oh, we can hardly be called invited guests,” Mr. Underwood said with a chuckle. “My friends and I simply took a notion to drop in at Walmesley for a short visit. We suffered an unfortunate carriage accident, requiring a new wheel, so I suppose we shall be fixed here for several days while we await repairs.”

The grandduchess slanted a skeptical glance toward Mr. Underwood, but remarked only, “Walmesley is often very quiet at this time of the year, as I recall. It is why I vastly prefer it over London. However, I daresay that we will all become acquainted over tea and be quite comfortable.”

Mr. Underwood, ever inclined to be the optimist, decided to overlook the grandduchess’s tepid courtesy and instead chose to consider the fortuitous meeting as an auspicious beginning. As a consequence, Mr. Underwood was well-pleased with himself as he ushered the ladies into the drawing room.

Lord Trilby made the introductions all around. The grand-duchess chose to ensconce herself on a wide settee, with Fräulein Gutenberg beside her. The gentlemen distributed themselves in a loose ring about the ladies as the servants brought in the tea.

The grandduchess requested that Fräulein Gutenberg pour the tea. Her grace accepted the first cup with a gracious nod and addressed herself to the gentlemen, drawing them out to talk about themselves.

While her mentor chatted in a seemingly idle manner, Fräulein Gutenberg quietly inquired each gentleman’s preferences, serving herself last. Though she did not appear to be listening closely, she nevertheless carefully collected those bits of information that the gentlemen let drop about themselves, their circumstances, and their way of life. The Fräulein had learned much from the Grandduchess of Schaffenzeits about the importance of discovering as much as possible about those about her.

Lord Heatherton, who had spurned inferior refreshment in anticipation of the tea, was at once intent on consuming an enormous amount to make up for the missed luncheon. His lordship, ever polite, carried his share of the conversation when he was addressed, but it was apparent to all that nothing interested him so much at the moment as the sandwiches, sweet biscuits, cake, and tea.

Viscount Weemswood recalled to the grandduchess their original meeting and he endured with surprisingly good grace the lady’s short humorous recounting of his past indiscretion. In the midst of his friends’ laughter he observed, “I was a mere bantling in those days.”

The Grandduchess of Schaffenzeits inspected the viscount’s thin intelligent face and his handsomely turned-out form again with more interest than before. She gave a sharp nod and in her guttural accents said, “You have done yourself credit, my lord. The awkward scruff-mannered cub that I remember is no more. I suspect, however, that there is yet something left of that undisciplined character lurking beneath the present polished exterior.”

Viscount Weemswood cracked a laugh. His cold eyes gleamed. “I fear that is true, your grace.”

Mr. Underwood seized the opportunity afforded by the viscount’s conversation with the Grandduchess of Schaffenzeits to lean close to Fräulein Gutenberg’s shoulder and engage her attention for a few moments.

He became quickly aware that the grandduchess was not so deep in her own conversation that she did not manage to overhear what was said between himself and the Fräulein. Mr. Underwood therefore prudently began to address himself to the grandduchess as well.

Lord Trilby overwatched it all with an expression of faint amusement, contributing to the conversation only as it behooved him.

At one point, when both the viscount and Mr. Underwood urged Fräulein Gutenberg to rise from her place and go over to play the pianoforte for the company, he encountered a glance from the Grandduchess of Schaffenzeits that was unmistakable.

Lord Trilby obeyed the unspoken summons and when he sat down beside his great-aunt, he was surprised to be greeted with a look of eloquent amusement.

“My dear Miles, you have surprised me yet again. I did not know you were so capable. I shall take care not to underestimate you in future,” the grandduchess said.

Lord Trilby slanted a brow at her. “Oh? Pray enlighten me, ma’am, for I cry ignorance.”