Jane Ashford (25 page)

Thalia was almost too angry to speak. “Look, she is going over to Alan Warrington. Mary Deming is talking to him, but that will not last. Oh, I could just—”

“What difference can it make?” interrupted her companion. “No doubt Warrington will discover what she really is soon enough. But we have more important things—”

“Will he indeed?” retorted Thalia. “Only look at him.”

Impatiently, Elguard did so. He saw a young man besotted, a triumphant interloper, and a slender miserable third, Mary Deming. “It is too bad, to be sure. But as there is nothing we can do, I do not see—”

“Oh, I am determined to do something. Mary is my friend, and I don’t mean to see her made unhappy because she is too shy and young Warrington too silly to know Lady Agnes’s true nature.”

“Look here, Miss Hartington,” replied Elguard, so insistently that Thalia had to turn back to him. “I want to talk to you, about something rather important.”

A bit nervous, Thalia said, “It will have to wait. I can think of nothing but Lady Agnes’s monstrous conduct now.”

“The deuce!”

Thalia stiffened. “I must help my friend, and if you don’t care for that, well, then…”

“No, no, I understand your feelings.” He sighed, then considered a moment “Look here, if I help you, will you listen to me then?”

“Help me?”

“Yes, help show up Lady Agnes as she really is. Warrington would be a fool to care anything about her after that.”

Thalia stared up at him. “Would you… would you do that?”

“Why not? It’s a worthy undertaking. And I want to help you.” He smiled. “That most of all.”

“But how can we…?”

“Leave that to me. I shall think of some scheme.”

“Will you?”

“Of course. You must allow me a little time to think, however. I cannot pull ideas out of thin air all in a moment.”

“But that you
would
.” Thalia gazed up at him with a new look, and James Elguard smiled again. This was more like it.

“I care about fairness too, you know. And I must say that Lady Agnes’s style of conversation has given me a pronounced aversion to her.”

Thalia laughed.

“So, I will think of a way, and tell you tomorrow.”

“Oh, yes. Thank you.”

“A pleasure.” He looked at her closely and seemed to come to a decision. “Would you like some lemonade? Or perhaps a bit of supper?”

“Yes, thank you.” Thalia took his arm, and they walked off together, the gentleman looking more pleased than he had all evening.

***

There was another musical program planned for after supper, and as the hostess began to shepherd her guests toward the chairs once more, several gentlemen were seen to slip out of the room. Among them was Lord Fanshawe, who had come late and shown little enjoyment of the entertainment. “Fanshawe,” said another man, following him out, “what about a hand of piquet? I understand there is a card room hidden somewhere in this house.”

Lord Fanshawe shook his head. “I mean to go back when the soprano finishes.”

“Indeed?” The other man, a tall sardonic buck, looked at him with a smile. “But I had forgotten. It’s said that you are pursuing one of your mother’s ingenues. It’s a sign of senility, you know, Fanshawe, sinking to the schoolroom.”

The earl, who had stiffened, now shrugged. “So I have heard. I don’t believe I’ve reached that state yet, however.”

“No? Yet I understand she’s a taking little piece. Better men than we have fallen before wide blue eyes. Beware, Fanshawe, the ton is avid to see you stumble.”

The earl merely gave him a brief haughty look from under lowered eyelids and excused himself to go back into the drawing room. His companion laughed shortly and pulled out an enameled snuffbox.

When the second musical interval ended, the guests began to take their leave. The Hartington sisters were following Lady Fanshawe into the hall when she stopped to speak to her son and commanded him to escort her to her carriage.

“Did you enjoy the music?” Euphie asked him as they walked.

“Yes,” he replied coolly.

“I thought the soprano rather off.”

He shrugged, and Euphie looked up at him in perplexity. What had happened to make him so cold?

There was some confusion when they reached the front door. Lady Fanshawe’s carriage, supposedly summoned quite ten minutes ago, had not come round, and they had to wait while a footman went to find it. The countess was tired, and sank down in a chair. Aggie was lost in a dream, and Thalia seemed little better, so Euphie and Lord Fanshawe were left to each other. The girl ventured another comment on the program, but receiving a bored reply, she fell silent. All her enjoyment seemed suddenly to evaporate.

The silence lengthened until Euphie could endure it no longer. “You look terribly bored,” she said to Lord Fanshawe.

Some other guests went out behind them as he looked down. His expression was unrevealing. “Do I? I beg pardon.”

She frowned at him. “You hardly spoke to us tonight,” she blurted. Then, appalled at herself, she shut her mouth with a snap and flushed bright red.

A muscle at the corner of the earl’s mouth jerked, but another group of guests crossed the hall at that moment, and he answered merely, “Did I not? I must beg pardon again, then.”

Cruelly embarrassed, Euphie turned away. “Not at all,” she murmured. To her intense relief, the carriage finally appeared at this moment, and they all moved to get in. Lord Fanshawe bade them all good night uninterestedly and turned away.

As he had promised, James Elguard called betimes the following morning and asked for Thalia. There was some confusion on his arrival, for Aggie came hurrying down to the hall at the first ring of the bell. But when she saw who it was, she retreated again, passing Thalia on the stairs without a word.

Both Thalia and Elguard watched her retreat. “I hope I haven’t come at an inconvenient time,” said the latter.

“Oh, no. I believe my sister is expecting someone else, that is all.” Thalia smiled to herself.

“Ah.”

“Come into the library. I can hardly wait to hear if you have an idea.”

They walked across the hall and into this room. Thalia shut the door and faced him. “Well?”

“Well, I have a scheme. You must tell me what you think of it.” And he proceeded to explain at some length. “You understand I won’t draw her out,” he finished. “That would be despicable. But I doubt it will be necessary.”

Thalia nodded. “But do you think it will do? Will Alan Warrington see?”

“If he does not, then your friend is mistaken in his character, and she should try to forget him as soon as may be.”

“Yes, I suppose you are right. Still…”

“If you have some better plan, or any modifications to suggest, I am only too willing to hear.”

“No, I don’t.” Thalia looked up. “This must work. It is a good idea.” She smiled. “And I do thank you for making this effort, and for a girl you don’t even know. It’s splendid.”

“I am not doing it for a girl I don’t know, charming as Miss Deming may be. I think you know that.”

“Yes, well… let us go over it all again, so that I am certain of what I must do.”

He looked at her with a slight frown, then nodded. “All right.”

They went over the scheme several times, trying to find flaws and correct them. After half an hour, both were satisfied. “Splendid,” said Thalia heartily again. She rose and held out her hand. “I shall see you tonight, then, and we will do the thing.”

Elguard took her hand, started to speak, then changed his mind. He nodded.

“Good-bye,” said Thalia quickly. “And thank you again.”

Smiling a little, he took his leave. Thalia ran back upstairs wondering what was the matter with her, and why things that she did not at all mean to say kept coming from her mouth.

About an hour later, at midmorning, the bell rang again, and Jenkins ushered John Dudley into the house. He asked for Aggie and, when invited to step up to the drawing room where the young ladies were sitting, refused incoherently. Jenkins eyed his nervous expression, then smiled benignly and took him to the library. “I shall see if Miss Hartington can come down,” he said.

She could. Indeed, the butler found her lingering on the upper landing, afraid to come down again but longing to know who had called. When he told her, her answering smile was so radiant that Jenkins smiled back. “I’ve put him in the library, miss,” he added. “You’ll find him there.”

“Thank you. Oh, thank you,” said Aggie, and she nearly ran down the stairs.

In the hall she paused a moment, running a hand through her russet curls and glancing in the mirror. She wore a dress of white muslin trimmed with blue ribbons this morning, and excitement had made her cheeks glow. She walked to the library and went in. Dudley stood before the fireplace looking uneasy.

At first, he only stared at her. He seemed struck speechless by her eager beauty. Then she said hello, and he muttered something in reply.

“Shall we sit down?” said Aggie, doing so.

He took the opposite armchair and continued to look at her. “You are so lovely,” he said after a pause. “I am never prepared for it somehow.”

Aggie blushed with pleasure.

“You deserve a setting like this,” he continued, gesturing around at Lady Fanshawe’s opulent room. “And parties and lots of admirers. I almost didn’t come today; my nerve nearly failed.” He smiled wryly.

“But I told you…”

“Yes, yes, I know what you said. I even flatter myself that I know what you meant. But did you?” She started to answer, but he held up a hand for silence. “You’ve only been in London a few weeks, you know. And you came with perhaps a, er, fixed idea in your head. I’ve talked with Anne Wellfleet, and she says… well, never mind. The thing is, you have to give town life a chance. You might find you like it very well, you know, and then…” He made a helpless gesture, and stopped.

Aggie had recovered her self-possession as he spoke, and now she looked at him steadily. “So I might,” she replied evenly.

He stared at her, looking half desperate.

“Do you hate being in London, Mr. Dudley?”

“I? Why, why, no. That is, I enjoy it occasionally. Coming up to see a friend or two, going to the theater.”

Aggie nodded. “Yes. That is exactly what I think I should like myself. To live in the country and to come up to town sometimes.”

He shook his head. “Perhaps you think so now. But you are so young; you may change your mind. And with your fortune, you should be free to do as you wish.”

Aggie rose majestically. “If you came today only to criticize me, Mr. Dudley, then we needn’t continue this conversation, I think.”

“Criticize?” He gaped.

“Indeed. Clearly you think me both frivolous and silly, unable to make up my own mind about what I like and do not like. I wonder that you care to talk with such a ninnyhammer as you believe me to be.”

“Never! I did not mean that.”

Aggie raised her eyebrows. “Indeed? Well, I admit I am glad, for though I may be young, I have never had any difficulty deciding what I like. My sisters could tell you so. I haven’t their talents, but I have a great deal of common sense, and I believe I know myself quite as well as anyone could wish to.”

“I didn’t mean…” repeated Dudley, “that is, I am sorry.”

Aggie sat down again, shrugging slightly.

He watched her for a moment, then blurted, “Can’t you understand how I feel about all this?”

Aggie raised her blue eyes to his. “In a way, I do,” she answered, not attempting to pretend she didn’t know what he meant. “But in another, I don’t. My fortune should make no difference, it seems to me. I am the same.”

“No difference! Why, you may have your choice of… of anything.”

“And, given that, it seems to you that my choice must be different? I disagree.”

He leaned forward and took both her hands. “But, Miss Hartington, Aggie, don’t you see? You must take the time to see everything. You had seen so little before; now you must make certain. I meant to wait, until the end of the season perhaps, and then come to see… but I couldn’t stay away. It was torture. Every night, I would wonder if perhaps you had met someone else. I pictured the balls, the parties…”

“I haven’t,” said Aggie, quietly.

“You can’t know—”

“I
do
know,” she interrupted. Looking down, she added, “It sounds horrid to say so, but my sisters and I have had quite a success, you know. I have met a great many people and received a great many compliments. I didn’t care for any of them.” She looked at him from beneath her lashes. “Of course, you are not very complimentary, Mr. Dudley. You force one to insist upon an attachment. I blush for myself.”

“How can you say so! Gods, I can’t keep still any longer. Will you marry me, Aggie?”

She smiled. “Why, Mr. Dudley, this is so sudden.” She laughed at his expression and added, “Of course I will, you great dolt.”

There was an instant of stillness in the room; then he was on his feet and pulling her into his arms. “I pray you may never regret this,” he said thickly. “I swear I will do everything to see that you don’t.”

“I shan’t,” replied Aggie serenely. And then she found herself being quite thoroughly kissed.

After a while, they sat down again, both on the sofa this time, and Mr. Dudley’s arm remained around Aggie’s waist. “Who would have thought,” mused the girl, “all those years ago when you used to call me Uglea, that we would end here?”

“Do you still throw that in my face?” He laughed.

“Of course. I am marrying you only so that I may make you pay for your past sins. I shall mention it once a day, at least, for the rest of our lives.”

He laughed, but said, “I can’t believe that we shall really spend that time together. I have felt such despair. I still feel I don’t deserve you.”

“Now, no more of that. I won’t hear it.” Aggie put a hand to his cheek. “You deserve a great deal more.”

Clearly there was only one answer to this. And the newly engaged pair spent a very agreeable quarter hour on the sofa exploring the subject. Then Aggie put a hand to her tumbled curls and said, “We should tell my sisters, and Lady Fanshawe.”

“I hope they will be pleased.”

“Oh, there’s no doubt of that. I know that Thalia and Euphie, at least, are waiting for us now. I daresay Euphie is wondering what can be taking so long.”

“You told them…?”

“They could see for themselves.”

“Ah. Well, let us get it over, then.”

“Silly. You will like them immensely, and they you.”

“I don’t doubt it. But the first meeting is daunting. And Lady Fanshawe, well, she struck me as formidable.”

Aggie rose and held out her hand. “Nonsense. Come along.”

They walked through the hall, receiving a positively fatherly smile from Jenkins, and up the stairs. Aggie, entering the drawing room first, found there was no need to say anything. Her sisters took one look at her face and jumped up to hug her, Thalia crying, “I am so glad,” and Euphie, “My dearest sister!”

Aggie pulled Dudley forward. “This is John,” she said simply. “I hope you will come to love him as I do.”

Thalia held out a hand, and Euphie giggled. “I shan’t promise
that
,” she said, “but I daresay I shall manage to be a trying younger sister to him as well.”

“Never,” responded Dudley gallantly.

“Wait and see.”

“Now, Euphie,” said Thalia, “we must welcome John into the family properly.”

“Indeed, we are very glad,” said the youngest sister. “I wish you and Aggie very happy.”

“Where is Lady Fanshawe?” asked the latter.

“She just went out for a moment, and here she is.” Euphie indicated the doorway.

The countess was duly told the news and added her congratulations to the others’. She looked once closely at Aggie’s face and, impressed by the change she saw there, sat down to discuss the wedding with great relish.

They had by no means exhausted this subject when Jenkins came in to announce another visitor. “Lord Fanshawe,” he said, and stepped back to reveal this gentleman behind him.

“Hello, Giles,” called the countess. “Come in and hear the splendid news.”

Eyebrows raised, the earl came forward, and as he did so, Euphie quietly slipped from the room and went upstairs. She was determined to avoid him, after his chilling behavior the last time they met.