Grenville 02 - Lord John's Dilemma (18 page)

“I am glad you ended up here, at least.”

He could not even begin to imagine what he would have felt if Alex had behaved in such a manner. “I know it all seems very extreme, Felicity, but I am quite recovered. You go off and get your sleep.”

Alex appeared to have the full story from Felicity. John was glad he did not have to go through the details of the episode again.

“I think I shall tell Nick in the stables to inform me if something like this happens again. That is, if you do not object, John. I want to be with you. I may be able to bring you around sooner.”

No criticism. No anger. Just concern. John felt gratitude swell his chest, bringing warmth with it. “I do not deserve such a fine brother.”

“You deserve the best,” Alex said. “None of us can imagine what war is like, but we owe you a tremendous debt for your years of fighting.”

John felt reassured once again that he would heal in such a family. The love of Alex and Felicity was the very opposite of all that drove him to despair. The warmth of their caring for one another and their children demonstrated a world full of hope. Their love for him would surely assuage his mental wounds in time, no matter what decision Miss Haverley made.

“I cannot guarantee anything of course,” he told them. “But I think that eventually being home with you and the children will mend my spirit. I just have to give it time.”

Days later, when they arrived back at the Manor, John felt as tentative as a schoolboy about facing the petite Miss Haverley. He sought out Anabella.

He found her with the children in the nursery. She was not interacting with them. Instead, she was sitting listlessly, her hands in her lap, staring out the window. When she heard him, she stood up to face him.

“Oh, John!” Tears started to her eyes and she ran to him, throwing her arms around him. “Come. We must talk.”

Once they were in her pink and white sitting room, she stood wringing her hands. “I am so, so, sorry. Can you ever forgive me?”

“Of what are you speaking?” he asked.

“Mr. Aldershott and Miss Haverley. To my knowledge, there is nothing between them. I only threw that at you to wound you. I never guessed she meant so much to you! That you would…” She broke off in a spate of tears.

A mixture of intense feelings rose in John’s breast—relief so immense that he wanted to rush off to The Elms that very moment, and at the same time, anger at his sister. “You are certain?”

“I only said it to be cruel,” said Anabella. “I wanted to hurt you because you had hurt me. I suppose there could be something in it…”

“But you have no actual reason to believe it is so?” John persisted, his anger increasing.

“John, Alan is right. I am a beast. I was horrid to Felicity for years, and lately I have been awful to him. And if anything had happened to you, I do not know what I would have done. I pray that someday you may be able to forgive me.” She wiped her eyes with her handkerchief. “I am going home to Alan and begging his forgiveness. I am truly going to reform. I promise.”

She looked so repentant that John had some hope for her. He worked to swallow his anger. “Anabella, Alan has broad shoulders. I think if you are truly determined to change, that he will work with you. But it is going to be difficult. You have indulged in this pattern all your life.”

“I know. I am such a child. But you have brought me to my senses at last.” She walked to him and snaked her arms around his waist, setting her head on his chest. “I never knew you suffered from melancholia. That is truly dreadful. I am so sorry.”

“It will pass,” he said, patting her back awkwardly.

“Will you forgive me? Can you? I know it is an awfully lot to ask.”

“I am sure I will, Anabella. Alan is the one you need to concentrate on now. If I were you, I would not leave him alone in London for too long.”

“I will leave for home tomorrow, and I will send a letter ahead of me.” She pulled away, a timid smile showing on her tearful face. “Do you truly care for Miss Haverley?”

“I do,” he said. “But you must keep your lip buttoned. How did you know?”

“By the look on your face when Mr. Aldershott took her arm. I think you must have a talk with that man.”

“I mean to,” he said. “’Tis late. But I will go tomorrow.”

Aldershott was in his stables currying his favorite bay mare when John rode up to the stable at The Elms.

“I must speak to you,” John said, swinging down off Odysseus.

The man put down his curry brush and offered his hand. “It is good to see you, Lambeth.”

“It has been a long time since we have talked,” John said. “Shall we have a walk in your orchard?”

Aldershott looked him over. “You are very serious.”

“It is a serious matter,” he replied. “Do you have time for me, or shall I come back later?”

“I doubt I could bear the suspense! Let us walk.”

Once they were in the peach orchard among falling leaves, John removed his hat and began turning it in his hands. “I am afraid I must ask you what your feelings are for Miss Haverley.”

“Oh, ho! The wind blows in that quarter, does it?” The blond man gave him a tense smile.

“I am afraid so, although she knows nothing of it.”

“I admit I am trying to fix my interest with her. She and my daughter get along vastly well, and I have been very lonely since my wife died. I must say that I have reason to believe that Miss Haverley is not indifferent to me. “

John suffered the blow in silence. The crunch of leaves and twigs under his feet sounded loudly. Was he too late?

“For such a little thing, she is remarkably attractive. I owe much to your sister for introducing us.”

“I would like to speak with her, if I may,” John said.

“She is teaching lessons at the moment. You may come for tea today, if you like. I am certain Clarissa will be happy to see you. She worships you, though perhaps not so much when you are out of uniform.”

John nearly crushed his hat.
Clarissa
would be happy to see him! Did he really know Miss Haverley’s feelings so well?

“I must get back to the manor for an appointment. Thank you for the information to tea. I will see you then.”

{ 22 }

C
larissa stood by the schoolroom window, looking down at the stables. “Do you suppose Papa will buy me a pony for my birthday?” she asked Delia, who was cutting a pair of Icarus wings out of newsprint.

“Have you asked for one?” Delia asked her.

“A hundred times!” Then she hopped a little jump of excitement. “Oh, we have company! Handsome Lord John!”

Delia set down her work and went to stand beside her charge. Major Lambeth was there, indeed. She bit her lip as her heart bounded. Had he come to see her? Surely he knew she was teaching?

But he seemed to be having a conversation with Mr. Aldershott. Her employer’s forehead was creased in puzzlement and then cleared. He did not look at all happy, however. They turned in the direction of the orchard and began to walk together.

What had he been saying to Mr. Aldershott that had upset him?

“These are cunning wings, Miss Haverley,” said Clarissa. “I think I shall wear them to tea and ask Papa to try to guess who I am!”

“An admirable plan,” said Delia.

Learning later that the major was invited to tea, Delia took special trouble with her appearance. She rearranged her hair so that half of it waved down her back while the rest rested on top of her head in a braided coil. She changed dresses, putting on her least governess-like frock made with a black velvet bodice and an embroidered muslin skirt.

Her preparations were not in vain. When she went down to tea, the major sprang to his feet. “Miss Haverley!” He gave her a short bow. He looked exceptionally handsome in a gray jacket, fitting very closely across his muscular shoulders, together with an ice blue silk waistcoat that highlighted his remarkable eyes.

She extended her hand, intending for him to shake it, but he bowed over it instead. “Major,” she said. “You remember Miss Clarissa, of course.”

Clarissa held out her small hand, and he delighted her by kissing her knuckles. At that moment, Stefano, dressed in his own pair of Icarus wings, leapt on his shoulders, and the major shook his paw as well. The monkey mounted his head, but the major skillfully grabbed the animal’s body and swung him down. “As much of a show stealer as ever, are you?” he said. “Are you and Stefano playing at fairies today?” he asked Clarissa.

“No, we are Icarus. But Stefano is better than I because he can fly higher.”

“But his wings shall be singed much more quickly,” her father said.

Stefano jabbered back and cavorted about the room, finally perching on the chandelier, which mercifully was not lit, or they might indeed have had a conflagration.

They all took their seats and Delia poured out the tea while Clarissa handed around tea sandwiches and macaroons.

“So you are studying the Greek myths, I take it?” Major Lambeth asked Delia.

“Yes. Clarissa is very unhappy that Zeus is male
,”
she said.

“Ah, a budding feminist, I see,” he said. “Do you not know that Aphrodite is just as powerful in her own quiet way?” At this question, his eyes rested warmly on Delia. Surprised by the attention, she choked on her macaroon.

Mr. Aldershott frowned and Clarissa giggled.

Delia felt the major’s eyes on her during the entire tea party. She became inattentive to Mr. Aldershott’s discussion of Icarus with his daughter. Every time she looked up from her plate, Major Lambeth was eyeing her. It was as though they had a private dialogue of secret glances and little smiles. She felt heat rise in her cheeks until she was certain they were rosy with it.

When at last tea was finished, the major asked Mr. Aldershott if he could take Miss Haverley for a walk. Her employer sat back in his chair and regarded the two of them. Then he said ponderously, “I am sorry to inform you, Lord John, but Miss Haverley has no time off from her duties until Sunday afternoon. That is but two days hence. Surely you can wait that long.”

Delia was surprised to see anger glance across Major Lambeth’s features like a bolt of summer lightning. His mouth thinned, and Delia thought he would say something, but he refrained. She and Clarissa stood.

“Thank you so much for the visit, Major,” she said. This time, when she offered her hand, he put it to his lips. The heat of the kiss stole through her, bringing a flush to her cheeks and a flutter to her breast. When he raised his eyes to hers, they were stormy.

When did I arouse such feelings in this man?

“Until Sunday, then. Will you take dinner with my family that day?”

“I would like that very much,” she said.

He walked out of the room and Clarissa gave a little sigh. “He is so handsome!”

Delia spent the rest of the afternoon listening to her charge play scales on the piano. What had brought about such a change in the major? He acted almost as though they were declared lovers. Apparently, Mr. Aldershott was of the same opinion. Normally, he was the most easygoing of employers, but he sensed a rival in the major. Why else would he have denied her that walk? Just what had they been talking about in the stable?

That night as she lay in bed, she allowed herself to remember every glance, every smile, and especially the fervent kiss on her knuckles. She hugged the memories to herself.

But there was still the mystery of the major’s absence to mull over. Tonight during their evening visit, Mrs. Scott had said, “There is a rumor going about that the major is dicked in the nob.”

“What?”

“Thieves’ cant, my dear. I’m partial to it. Means he’s wanting.” She tapped her forehead with her fingers.

“I don’t believe that,” she said. It was not her intention of discussing the major’s melancholia, but clearly a rumor of some sort was making the rounds.

With the coming of Sunday, however, Delia’s world was destined to be stood on its ear. In preparation for dinner with the Grenvilles, she dressed in a green muslin trimmed with coral ribbons and arranged her hair with the greatest of care.

She walked into church holding Clarissa’s hand so that she would not be obliged to take Mr. Aldershott’s arm, and sat decorously in the family pew. Moments later, the Grenville family arrived and Major Lambeth bowed slightly, smiling as he passed to sit in the pew in the front on the other side of the aisle.

To her surprise, the next family to arrive was the Lindsays. What were they doing home so early from London? Accompanying them was a tall, well-built man. She stared and then quickly lowered her eyes. Lord Manchester! Here? Oh, what an evil stroke of luck! He did not notice her, as he was conversing animatedly with Miss Lindsay, who was on his arm. Fortunately, their pew was directly in front of the Aldershott pew, so he did not see her during the church service either.

Delia clamped her gloved hands together to still their shaking. Marianne Lindsay had obviously made a conquest of the man who, it appeared, had lost patience waiting for Delia and her fortune. Did Miss Lindsay know what kind of man Lord Manchester was?

What will he do when he sees me? Will he resume his pursuit? Oh, why today of all days?

Delia did not hear a word of the sermon. Her identity was about to be uncovered. Would her uncle find her? Just thinking of the possibility made her grow cold all over.

Unbidden memories of beatings made her shoulders sting and ache. Her spirit quailed at the remembrance of his shouting.

I did not ask to take you in, Brat. Now that you are here, you will do as I say. You will honor all my wishes. If I choose that you marry Lord Manchester, you will marry him. Do you wish to be locked in your room with a daily beating until you are brought to accept your duty?

The man’s face rose before her with all its veins distended and purple, and spittle hesitating on his lips. His riding whip sailed above his head and came down on her shoulders. Again and again.

Forgetting completely about the Grenvilles’ dinner invitation, she focused only on getting out of the church without being discovered. Fortunately, her Sunday bonnet was large and covered the back of her head completely.