Jennie Kissed Me (14 page)

“It is not only liars who require good memories.”

“We can’t all be perfect. Even you, Jennie, have your flaw.” Naturally I looked with interest to hear how I fell short of perfection. “You make your visits much too short,” he said. While I stood gazing he took my arm and said, “Shall we have a look at the roses?” We strolled arm-in-arm around to the terraced garden. Mrs. Irvine had left, under what circumstances I trembled to think, but the Eldons were still there.

It was not to the roses that he led me but to a paved court edged in dense yews. I sat on a rock-hard stone bench; Marndale remained standing, smiling down at me in the most delightfully familiar manner. I hardly knew what might come next, but his wish for privacy, and now that smile, made my heart thump and my hopes soar.

“Congratulations,” he said, after a long look.

Surely even a marquess did not begin a proposal of marriage in such a self-congratulatory way. “For what?”

“Handling Jethro,” he said, and threw his head back in unrestrained laughter. “You were
formidable,
Miss Robsjohn.” He gave the adjective the French pronunciation. “Anselm is right, even the beasts of the field obey you.”

“Jethro obeyed his appetite for turnips and potatoes. It is all in knowing what motivates the animal.”

He held out both hands and drew me up from the bench. “And how would you handle the animal with ... different appetites?” he asked. The glow in his eyes told me what appetite this human animal was about to indulge.

“That would depend entirely on what motivated him, as I said.”

“Really, Miss Robsjohn!” he said, and pulled me into his arms. A deep chuckle sounded in my ear, as he placed his face against mine. “Surely you do not suspect me of dishonorable intentions! I saw at the Laughing Jack how you handle that breed.”

Never have such pedestrian words sounded so loving. His voice was soft and gentle, and when he raised his head, he was wearing an expression akin to that he wore when he looked at the Munson twins. He might as well have been declaring his undying devotion. Our eyes locked in a long, searching gaze. Then his head lowered, and his arms tightened around me.

At that promising moment the demmed Eldons decided to return. We jumped apart as if we had been plotting treason. “Ah, Marndale,” Lord Eldon said, while his lady examined me as if I were a piece of dirty muslin, “time for a glass of something wet, eh? It is hot work, looking at flowers in the sun.” Our Lord Chancellor, the human sponge, wanted more wine.

We all entered the house together, and the magic moment passed without coming to fruition.

Chapter Twelve

In my simplicity I thought our visit at Wycherly was going splendidly. I reckoned without the naval widow. What must Mrs. Irvine do but make a cake of herself in front of the whole party. I knew by her dark brow when I went upstairs to change for dinner that something had gone amiss, and with the greatest misapprehension inquired what ailed her.

“I have had a wretched afternoon,” she scowled. “And it is all because of the Eldons. I am surprised Marndale is entertaining that lot, for Lord Eldon, besides drinking a good deal too much, is against every sort of reform. His views would have been thought dated in the dark ages. He is against the abolition of slavery, Catholic emancipation, and all
for
throwing unfortunate souls into jail for debt.”

“We are not here to discuss politics,” I foolishly replied.

Politics was the subject of discussion after dinner, however, and though it was Lord Eldon who was responsible for dredging up the old quarrel, Mrs. Irvine jumped at the chance to have a go at him. The Eldons had recently been home to Newcastle-upon-Tyne and were deriding the condition of the roads. “What we ought to do is empty the jails and debtors’ prisons and set those layabouts to earning their keep by working on the roads,” he said with a challenging eye to my chaperone.

“First we would have to feed and clothe them properly to give them strength for the job,” she said with an angry twitch of her shawl.

“It is not lack of food that has weakened them but lack of character. It is easier to steal than do an honest day’s work, but it doesn’t put muscles on a man.”

“You, being a politician, would know about stealing,” she shot back, heedless of the other politicians in the room.

Marndale sat up, his back as stiff as a ramrod, and flashed a warning glance at her. She was not looking at him, and he next stared at me. My ingenuity abandoned me.

He said to Lord Bathurst, “Mrs. Irvine’s late husband was in the navy. He was killed at Trafalgar. Did you know Lord Bathurst used to be lord of the admiralty, Mrs. Irvine?”

This awkward attempt at changing the subject failed miserably. “Of course I knew it,” she said, still glaring in Eldon’s direction.

Lord Eldon also ignored the interruption. “Yes, we’re good at stealing—from the rich to give to the poor, like Robin Hood,” he said. “I know your views on letting debtors run free, Mrs. Irvine, but not paying one’s debts is a form of stealing. If we let them off scot-free, no one would pay his debts.”

“If you lock a man up for owing a little money, how is he ever expected to repay it?”

“Paying is the last thing they are interested in. It is the rich who have to support them while they are incarcerated. Don’t think we do it for the good of our pocketbooks.”

“It’s news to me if
I
am rich, but I pay my taxes, to say nothing of the road tolls, along with the tax you put on journals and I don’t know what else.”

“The needs of the nation must be paid for,” he said grandly. “Prisons must be paid for. Wars must be paid for.”

“And especially our prince regent’s improvidence must be paid for. His debts could have financed the war instead of making us a laughingstock amongst civilized nations with his extravagance, to say nothing of his women.”

“A prince cannot be expected to live like a pauper,” Eldon announced. “And where do you think your late husband’s pension comes from?”

“Obviously not the same rich coffer as your income, sir! My quarterly pittance wouldn’t pay your wine bill for a week.”

I darted a worried glance at Marndale. To inveigh against political chicanery was one thing. For Mrs. Irvine to sink to personal slander was really going too far. “Speaking of wine, you were going to test the new claret I laid down, Eldon,” Marndale said. “It is in my study. Shall we try it?” He rose and helped Eldon from his chair.

Wine, it seemed, was the one thing that could turn Eldon’s attention from a fight, and he rose on unsteady legs to go to the study. Lord Bathurst and Anselm went with them, casting unhappy looks at Mrs. Irvine over their shoulders.

Lady Eldon added her cold stares. “I believe I shall go upstairs,” she announced.

“Yes, it’s been a long day,” Lady Bathurst agreed, and together they went from the room.

We four younger ladies were left alone. Lady Pogue gave a shake of her head. “You really ought not to have said that, Mrs. Irvine. Charles was not pleased with that little outburst.”

“No more I should, which is not to say I was wrong.”

“The Eldons are not leaders of the ton,” Lady Pogue continued. “Old Bags came from nowhere and was made a baron for his work in Parliament. The family is not noble by any means. His wife was only a rich banker’s daughter, but she is not someone who can be insulted with impunity either. She has the ear of Lady Castlereagh. Almack’s, you know ... Lady Eldon is probably complaining to Lady Bathurst this minute. The Bathursts are unexceptionable. Their ancestors go back to Norman times. Perhaps if you apologized to Lady Eldon .. .”

“You might as well ask a stone to bark,” I said. “Mrs. Irvine was right, and therefore she cannot possibly apologize, though that slur on Eldon’s drinking was out of place.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t say more,” Mrs. Irvine declared. “I should have suggested he tax wine.”

“He likes his bottle,” Lady Pogue conceded. “He is considered a man of slow but sound judgment. I’ll just go up and see if I can smooth his lady’s ruffled feathers,” she said graciously, and left. I believe she did not want to be found talking with us heathens when the others returned.

“Don’t tell her I’m sorry!” Mrs. Irvine called after her. She soon went abovestairs herself. Victoria and I lingered, but the gentlemen remained away a long time. I did not want it to look obvious that I was hanging on in hopes of a few words with Marndale, so I went up, too.

Between my little argument with Mrs. Irvine when I went upstairs and worries over what Marndale might think, I did not sleep easily. My main concern was that her outburst would lessen his feelings for me. Surely he had been on the very edge of an offer in the garden.

I was not looking forward to breakfast the next morning, but when I went down it was only Marndale who was at the table. I was not so optimistic as to expect a proposal over the toast and jam. He smiled when I appeared, but a first glimpse of his frowning face told me what preyed on his mind, too.

“Good morning, Jennie,” he said. “Did you sleep well?”

“I slept badly, and I think you did, too.” He had purple smudges below his eyes. “You look a little fagged, Marndale.”

“Someone had to drink Eldon under the table so he would forget last night’s debacle.”

“Much good that will do! His wife will be sure to remind him. She left very shortly after her husband with a pretty sharp look at Mrs. Irvine. But I would hardly call that little contretemps a debacle!”

“True, with Rita’s help, utter disaster was avoided. She mentioned last evening that she tried to explain to Lady Eldon, making much of Mrs. Irvine’s being a war widow.”

“Last evening?” Lady Pogue, it seemed, had no reservations about hanging on forever. She must have returned below after pacifying Lady Eldon. From the looks of Marndale’s face, he must have been drinking for hours. How long had Lady Pogue waited for him?

“I had a word with her before I retired,” he said. “And I would appreciate it if you would have a word with your chaperone. Put a clamp on that woman’s tongue, if you can.”

My hackles were already up on Mrs. Irvine’s behalf. That casual mention of Rita’s help did nothing to smooth them. “I hope Lady Pogue did not apologize! We expressly asked her not to when she so officiously went chasing after Lady Eldon. Mrs. Irvine was right, and I am surprised you are so concerned for the good opinion of a dinosaur like Lord Eldon.”

His lips moved unsteadily to repress a smile. “True, he is firmly rooted in the eighteenth century, but he is influential for all that. Bathurst and I have been given the sensitive task of updating his views, primarily softening his resistance to parliamentary reform. That is why the Eldons are here.”

“Would it not help if you could keep him sober?”

“We are not miracle workers. Eldon likes his wine, but he is a hard worker.”

Mrs. Irvine came down while we were still alone and said to Marndale, “I daresay I set the cat amongst the pigeons last night. Sorry, Marndale, but there was no bearing that old snuff dipper’s taunts. He said that about the debtors on purpose to vex me. He knew my views, for we had already whipped that horse in the afternoon.”

“Apology accepted, ma’am, but I would appreciate it if you would keep your distance from him if you cannot keep your temper.”

“Would you like me to leave?” she asked.

To my astonishment Marndale did not immediately object. He liked the idea of her leaving. Did he think for one minute I would remain behind without her? He intercepted my frozen face and said, “No, no! That was not my meaning. I’ll keep him busy. It will only be for another few days.”

“Perhaps we ought to go, Mrs. Irvine,” I said.

“Victoria would be mighty disappointed to miss her outdoor adventure,” my chaperone mentioned. “I was thinking we could take that hike while the guests are here.”

“Oh, but Victoria is acting as Marndale’s hostess!” I objected at once. Thoughts of the grand dinner and dancing party floated in my head.

“The arrangements have all been made,” she said. “If it needs only a lady to sit at the end of the table, any of the others could do it. Lady Pogue or Lady Bathurst.” She did not mention Lady Eldon for the job.

I took a peek at Marndale. He showed no emotion at all in Mrs. Irvine’s scheme, either for or against. I was prepared to let the matter drop. “Just don’t listen to Lord Eldon if he taunts you again,” I suggested.

“I’ll try, but it is hard to ignore a jackass braying in your ear.”

“Jennie will teach you the trick,” Marndale said with a teasing smile. “She manages to ignore me. Just try to be patient, ladies. After lunch I will be taking the gentlemen to call on some local worthies. Soon our company will be gone, and I promise you I shall repay you for your forbearance. Ah, here is Victoria!”

She took her place at the table and said, “I am trying to entertain your guests, Papa, but they don’t want to do anything. I have suggested all sorts of things. Tours and drives and walks. They just want to sit home and read and talk. Perhaps the ladies are too old—except for Lady Pogue, and she has already arranged to have another ride on Silver Star today. We might as well have our driving lesson, eh Jennie?”

Breakfast was fairly enjoyable, but it was cut short. As soon as the shuffle of feet beyond the door announced the arrival of the Eldons and Bathursts, I got hold of Mrs. Irvine and led her off. Whatever of her food was not still on her plate was in her throat. Curt nods were exchanged as we met the others entering. Lady Pogue was not with them. But then I already knew she had had a late night. We went upstairs to wait for Victoria.

“I believe I’ll go for that driving lesson with you, Jennie, for I don’t mean to sit like a jug glaring at Lady Eldon all morning,” my companion said.

“That might be best.”

In about ten minutes Victoria came tapping at the door. Her pretty little lips were down at the corners. “What a horrid party this is turning out to be,” she said. “I’ll be glad when they leave. Though to tell the truth, I dislike to see Papa go off to London with Lady Pogue. I tried your little stunt about putting the coal scuttle in her bed last night, Mrs. Irvine, and she didn’t say boo about it. She must have slept with Papa.”