Holiday in Bath (27 page)

For a moment she thought she had gone too far. He clenched his fists at his sides and muttered through narrowed lips, “I doubt you know a great deal about the matter, Miss Storwood. If you have hopes that Lord Rissington or Mr. Bodford will offer for you, I fear you are sadly disillusioned.”

“Offer for me? Why, of course not! Did you not yourself inform me how they treated poor Miss Ponsonby? I have standards, Mr. Rowle!” she informed him in a slightly raised voice. “Not only do I expect to ally myself with a man of birth, breeding, and fortune, but integrity as well.”

“It is Mr. Ashwicke you have in mind, then?” he asked sweetly.

“God forbid! Did you not see him in the gardens with a married woman? Do you think it has not come to my attention that he has behaved in a most unbecoming manner with her? Let another carry such a burden about with her. The man I marry must come with a spotless reputation!”

“I hope you don’t think my own reputation…” He allowed the sentence to fade away, assuming in his turn a dignity born of experience and determination.

“I promise you I have not so much as considered your reputation, Mr. Rowle. Since you are not qualified on any other…on other accounts, it was wholly unnecessary. If I have in my inexperience led you to believe that I would welcome this offer from you, I must humbly beg your pardon. Not for the world would I foster such a hope in a man’s breast where there is no possibility of his achieving his goal. You must admit that you have given no indication of serious intent. As with the others, there has been a great deal of high spirits and teasing, which we have all enjoyed, have we not? Not so do I see the man whom I shall marry. He will have dignity and reserve, a thorough understanding of politics and religion, very little taste for the senseless life of the ton and a desire to cater to my extravagant whims.”

“And where do you expect to meet this man?” Mr. Rowle asked, his polite tone tinged with sarcasm. “In your Westmorland backwater?”

“Well, he might seek me out there; I imagine my fame will spread from Bath, don’t you? However, I consider it more likely that I will meet him in London.”

“I thought it was impossible for you to go to London because of your father’s condition.”

“Did you? I see. And you assumed that if I had not found a partner here in Bath, I would take any partner who suggested himself? A lowering thought.”

Mr. Rowle was at the limit of his resources and his temper. With an exaggerated bow, he said coldly, “I am sorry if I have imposed upon you, Miss Storwood. I confess to having had no idea of the heights to which you aspire.” She smiled benevolently on his sneer, further discomposing him. “If you will excuse me...”

“Certainly, Mr. Rowle. I do hope I shall see you at the Cosgroves’ this evening.”

As Mr. Rowle made his exit, blackly scowling, Cranford entered the house in Henrietta Street and allowed Mrs. Storwood to take him to the sitting room, where they found Trelenny convulsed with giggles. She covered her mouth and pressed her side, but could not control them well enough to offer Cranford a welcome. When she had recovered sufficiently, as she was forced to do under their reproving stares, she gasped, “It was worth the money, every penny of it. Did you see him?” Another burst of giggles overtook her. “And I never laughed in his face. Lady Jane was quite right; it was much more rewarding this way.”

Mrs. Storwood, shocked out of her usual patience, said sharply, “I cannot see anything the least amusing in refusing an offer, Trelenny. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

“Dear Mama, please don’t be cross. He fleeced me out of twenty guineas, and he had every minute of his put-down coming to him. Imagine his thinking he could cozzen me into marrying him.”

Although Cranford had understood a great deal more of Trelenny’s remarks than her mother had, he could not feel easy about the situation. “Just what did you tell him, Trelenny?" Under the piercing black eyes, all her amusement deserted her and she collapsed onto the sofa with a sigh. Instead of answering him directly, she sought her mother’s eyes, and said, “You will remember the card party at which I lost some money. Well, it amounted to more than twenty guineas and I knew that Mr. Rowle and his friends were not playing fairly with me. I couldn’t say anything at the time and I found it difficult to leave their table. The long and short of it is, Mama, that I let him think me a great heiress so that he would offer for me, and I could refuse him. Lady Jane didn’t think it wrong of me,” she said with a defiant glare at Cranford. “It was much the same sort of thing you had her do that night Lord Babthorpe caused such a rumpus here at the card table.”

Cranford was not impressed. “Lady Jane is a great deal more experienced than you in dealing with such people. What suggestion did she make?”

“I had intended to laugh at him, and she said it would be better to act surprised at his presumption, as though he were reaching too far above himself.”

“Which he was,” Cranford muttered.

Mrs. Storwood had resorted to her handkerchief, but not her vinaigrette. “I think, dear, that you would have been wisest to have had Cranford simply warn him off. Not that I condone what he did! Mr. Rowle has shown himself an unconscionable reprobate, but I’m afraid you are only too willing to indulge in such adventures, love. It would be a great deal more becoming in you to keep a distance from such a person and remain aloof from an escapade in which you do not show to advantage.”

The censure, perhaps, was mild but having it delivered in front of Cranford made Trelenny feel like a naughty child, and an embarrassed flush stained her cheeks. “Yes, Mama. Would you excuse me?”

Her mother nodded, but Cranford stayed her with a hand on her arm. “Might I have a word with Trelenny before I go, Mrs. Storwood?”

Since another of Mrs. Storwood’s firm beliefs was that men had a great deal more influence than women, she welcomed Cranford’s intervention. A word from him would set Trelenny straight almost as well as one from the girl’s father, she decided as she left the two of them together.

Trelenny stood with downcast head, biting her lip to still its trembling. Only when the door had closed did Cranford shake his head ruefully and laugh. “Dear God, I wish I could have overheard the whole scene!”

Startled, she lifted moist eyes to his face and said indignantly, “I thought you were angry with me.”

“I am,” he protested, still grinning. “What you did was brash, outrageous, and I would have expected nothing less of you. You are two of a kind, you and Jane, with too much liveliness for your own good.” He withdrew a handkerchief from his pocket and patted her eyes. “Would that my words of censure had such an effect on you. Then I wouldn’t have to be forever threatening you with dire consequences. Trelenny, I quite understand why you treated Mr. Rowle as you did; and I can’t say that I, in the same position, would not have done the same, but I don’t trust him not to cause trouble. You have given him a set-down that is bound to rankle, and he is just the type to spread some vicious rumor about you. It was he who told you that cock-and-bull story about Rissington and Bodford, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, but I didn’t believe it.”

“And many people wouldn’t believe a lie about you, but some would, and I can’t view the possibility with any complacency. I’ll keep an ear open.”

“Thank you, Cranford. I didn’t mean to cause you any trouble.” She watched him return his handkerchief to his pocket. “You.. . you won’t be angry with Lady Jane, will you?”

“No, silly, I won’t be angry with Jane.” He rumpled her hair, smiling gently. “I have wanted to talk to you—”

The door flew open and Mrs. Waplington, beaming with pleasure and followed by a flustered Mrs. Storwood, hastened into the room. “The most wonderful thing has happened, Trelenny. Andrew must go to London for a month! How do you do, Mr. Ashwicke?”

Uncertain how to respond to such a greeting, Trelenny cast an enquiring look at her mother, who hesitantly took up the tale. “Mr. Waplington must leave for London next week on pressing business, and he plans to remain there a month. Elsa would like to take you with them and give you a taste of town life. I don’t know what your Papa would say, but it seems too good an opportunity to be wasted. Cranford could escort me home, as we had planned, and Elsa would arrange for an escort for you when it was time for you to return to Sutton Hall. It’s what you’ve dreamed of, I know, and possibly the only chance you will have.”

Trelenny’s eyes had glowed at the mention of going to London, but now they clouded. “Without you, Mama? Or Cranford?”

“I’ve promised your father I will return after our stay here, my love.”

Mrs. Waplington gave a throaty chuckle. “You needn’t  worry, Trelenny. I shall take as good care of you as even your mother would. Ah, you’ll love London. And after the success you’ve had here, who knows? I could ask for no greater treat than to introduce you to society, my dear. Well, aren’t you thrilled?”

“I... yes! It’s just that I can hardly believe my good fortune, ma’am. You have no idea how I have dreamed of such a chance.” Trelenny clasped her mother’s hands. “Is it truly all right with you? You won’t fret or be miserable while I’m gone?”

“How can I when I know you are happy?” Mrs. Storwood declared stoutly. “There isn’t time to write your father but I think he would agree, don’t you, Cranford?”

Appealed to in such a way, Cranford resolutely put aside his own feelings and said, “Yes. He could have no objection to the scheme when Mrs. Waplington herself will be responsible for Trelenny.” So easily it was settled, but of the four only Mrs. Waplington knew unalloyed joy at the prospect.

If Mr. Rowle spread any rumors about Trelenny, Cranford did not hear them. His decision to speak to her seemed premature in the face of her proposed journey to London. Let her have all the chances she could to find happiness before he approached her with his own proposal, he counseled himself in the darkness of his room at nights. If Rissington or Bodford followed her to London...

These were matters he did not discuss with Lady Jane. If he was preoccupied in her company, she never mentioned the fact. Her delight at Trelenny’s coup with Rowle was untempered by his own sense of caution. “I hope you didn’t scold her, Cranford. For myself, I would have given a great deal to be there when he offered.”

“So would I,” he admitted. “Her mother said anything that was necessary on the occasion, and I merely pointed out that he might take an ugly revenge for such callous handling.”

“I hadn’t thought of that. Well, Miss Storwood has enough champions to set the record straight, so I think we needn’t worry."

But Cranford did worry—from a distance. He continued to escort Lady Jane, occasionally relieving Mr. Wheldrake, but that gentleman was more than willing to accompany the Storwoods; and when he was not available, Mr. Waplington unfailingly stood in. Cranford noted that Mr. Rowle managed to avoid most of the entertainments to which the Storwoods went, but that he made no effort to efface himself in any other way. As the time for Trelenny’s departure for London drew closer, Cranford began to believe that his fears had had no basis.

The night of the Stanmores’ ball, he was not engaged to either the Storwoods or Lady Jane as escort and he determined to stop in at the White Hart for any mail which might have arrived since last he was there. An invitation to join a friend for a glass expanded into an hour of reminiscing about their younger days, and he was just on the point of departing when an arrival caught his attention. There was something familiar about the fellow’s face and unusual height, though in the dim hallway light he could not for a moment place him. When the landlord made a gesture toward Cranford, the gentleman turned and approached him with outstretched hand. “I am in luck, I see. I had hardly dared hope to still find you here.”

“Mr. Laytham! I trust your journey was successful.”

“Thanks to you and your friend,” the young man said with a smile. He gave instructions for his luggage to be carried up to a room and asked for a private parlor. “Won’t you join me for a moment? I can see you’re dressed for a formal occasion, but I beg you will allow me to return what is yours.”

The parlor to which they were shown was on the first floor overlooking the street, a snug room with the privacy Mr. Laytham deemed necessary for their conversation. When two glasses had been set before them and the waiter had withdrawn, he proposed a toast. “To Miss Storwood and Mr. Ashwicke, without whose assistance my wife and I could not have managed.” He stared at the glass for a moment after he had taken a sip, then set it down and pulled from his pocket a purse, which he handed to Cranford. “I was asking the landlord your direction so that I might return this, with all the thanks that are due you. That night shall always live with me as a symbol of horror…and of the miraculous. May I be struck down if ever I ignore an opportunity to help a fellow being in trouble!”

Cranford accepted the purse and set it before him. “I trust Mrs. Laytham is well.”

“Quite. I have left her with my family near Salisbury. She insisted that I come to search you out as soon as she was settled there. I have a letter from her to Miss Storwood, too, in my valise. Would you mind waiting while I get it?”

“Not at all.”

He returned in a few minutes to place the sealed sheet beside the purse. “Caroline has a great deal of sensibility and credits Miss Storwood with preserving her sanity that night. As I told you at the time, nothing but the most dire necessity would ever have forced me into such a decision as to elope, not only because of society’s view of such an action, but because Caroline herself strongly felt the impropriety of what she was doing. Alas, we had no choice. Her stepfather and stepbrother had gone to Cambridge to arrange the marriage settlement with her guardian, who had no inkling that Caroline was an unwilling partner to the treaty. Her own mother is unable to withstand the pressure her husband brings to bear on her and has, I fear, been treated to his temper for having allowed my wife to escape.”

“Have you been to the Rowles’?”

“I’ve just come from there.” Mr. Laytham drew a weary hand across his brow. “I had hoped to effect a reconciliation with her mother, at least, if not with her stepfather, but he would listen to nothing I had to say, and refused to let me talk alone with his wife.”