Lady Elizabeth's Comet (32 page)

A flush tinged his cheekbones and his eyes were bright, partly with amusement.
"Elizabeth, my fraudulent dove, I perceive I've been unnecessarily diffident. Shall we run for the
border?"

"Gretna Green," I croaked.

We both began to laugh. It was too absurd. I sobered first. "I'll have to explain,
Tom."

"Hush." He removed my bonnet, still smiling. "I have no questions at all, Elizabeth. And
never will."

"Oh, Tom, I do love you."

"It's nothing to cry about, witling."

I sniffed. "Not now."

He drew me close. "Come along, then. I can see you mean to tell me everything, but I
warn you I'm too much in alt to hear more than half of it."

It was wonderfully comforting to be walking beside him through the damp autumn air
with the leaves rattling at our steps and his arm heavy and warm on my shoulder.

I explained. I don't think I was eloquent or even very clear. He was always a good
listener, however, and did not interrupt me now. When I faltered once, he gave my shoulder a
gentle squeeze of encouragement, and presently it was all over. I felt light as air.

I couldn't help adding in a chastened voice, "I've been so wretched. And I used Bevis. I
can't forgive myself that."

He said crisply, "Nonsense. He used you, too. Dunarvon gave him an ultimatum. Let
Miss Carr console Bevis." After a pause he added, in considering tones, "I very nearly called him
out that afternoon in Hyde Park for hurting you so abominably."

I stood stock still. "You did?"

He smiled at my expression. "You're not the only one capable of mixed emotions, my
heart. Portrait of a man frozen between outrage and delight."

I recalled Clanross standing beside Bevis in the park as I rode off in Winton Peverel's
phaeton. How exceedingly blank he had looked. I had to smile, too.

"That's more the thing. If you're troubled about Bevis's sensibilities, we can let him think
we've made a marriage of convenience."

"You're completely unscrupulous."

"A coxcomb," he agreed, shameless.

"It won't do, Tom. He knows me too well. He'll see through me in an instant. I feel
transparent."

"You don't look transparent. You look rosy and very substantial, considering I'm
dreaming all this."

I hastened to assure him he wasn't dreaming.

We sat on one of Papa's marble benches, for we had reached the margin of the lake, and
there followed another satisfactory interlude.

I came up for air again. "Where's my bonnet?"

"Mmmm? Safe as houses. I chucked it beneath a bush."

"Wretch!" I considered the trouble Anne had taken to see that I bought that bonnet and I
fear I snickered.

"You shouldn't hide your hair," he said seriously.

"Do you like it?"

"The bonnet?"

"My hair! I feel dreadful, Tom."

He straightened, alarmed. "Good God, and I was flattering myself that you were feeling
everything appropriate to the occasion."

"I'll be an object of loathing among all the matchmaking mamas. You must know you're
a Prime Catch."

If I hoped to disconcert him I failed. He chuckled. "Yes, and very gratifying it is, too,
considering I spent my salad years being warned off by stern papas."

"Poor Tom. How I wish we'd met then."

"No, you don't. My feet were too large and my ears turned red whenever I was
embarrassed, which was most of the time."

"Your ears still turn red--bright red."

"But the rest of me has caught up with my feet," he replied, composed. "I prefer a
mature and elevating attachment to the idiocies of calf love. Far more dignified, don't you
think?" He kissed my hair. Thence another interlude--elevated, of course.

At last he said reluctantly, into my hair, "We ought to go in, Elizabeth. I'm more or less
waterproof, but you're not."

"I daresay I do look bedraggled."

He assured me in the most flattering terms that looking bedraggled suited me. That took
time. I, too, was reluctant to go in. I didn't feel at all cold. On the contrary. Also, the prospect of
everyone's delight (Miss Bluestone), astonishment (Alice and Maggie), and jealousy (Jean) was
rather daunting.

"We could walk up to Brecon. Sims must be told."

"By God, yes." Clanross rose and gave me his hand. "I wonder what the odds are
now?"

"Odds?"

"Sims regards my pretensions with pessimism. He'll probably lose his shirt to Mrs.
Smollet. But Brecon can wait. I have the feeling Miss Bluestone can't."

"Has she been your ally?" Miss Bluestone, the recipient of my confidences. Surely she
could not have been meddling. I felt my cheeks burn.

Clanross kissed my nose. "No, my love. I stormed the bastion unassisted. She did give
me a speaking look as we left, I thought, and she removed the twins with suspicious
dexterity."

"Miss Bluestone will be delighted. She thinks you're worth ten of Bevis." I cast him a
sidelong glance and had the satisfaction of watching his ears turn scarlet. "I hope in future you'll
consider the consequences of bribing respectable ladies with fossils."

He grinned. "I should have chipped one out for you."

"Oh, Tom, I wish you had. How I pored over the rocks and the twins' spelling lists, and
there was nothing for me. Why did you not write to me?"

"I thought you might think it an impertinence."

"Your letters to the girls always sounded so cheerful."

"All lies. My friends felt sure I was going into a decline and kept pressing tonics on
me."

"Were you visiting military friends?" For some reason, I always overlooked the
possibility that he had connexions outside my family, though that was absurd.

"Yes. Between scaling cliffs and riding across moors and leaping off mountains--what a
lot of mountains there are in Scotland--and rowing skiffs. I did considerable rowing." He
regarded his left arm ruefully. "Mostly in circles."

"Very strenuous." I smiled.

He did not. Instead he said, rather dryly, "Very. You may take it, I think, that there won't
be a repeat of last November."

"What do you mean?" But I knew the answer and went cold.

"I mean that if there were any further fragments of bone or metal to jar loose I'd have
found out."

"You're mad!"

"You can't imagine I'd propose marriage to any woman, least of all you, Elizabeth, with
that hanging over me."

I had begun to tremble with anger and fright. "If ever you do anything so flea-witted
again, I'll--I'll--"

"What?" He smiled at me.

I was not amused. "I don't know. How could you take such a risk, Tom? I'd a hundred
times rather be married and you in a Bath chair than see you dead. A thousand times."

"Well,
I
wouldn't. Too frustrating, my dear." He spoke mildly, but he looked at
me in such a way that I blushed to the roots of my hair. "Come along before I throw you over my
saddlebow and gallop for the Border. It won't do to offend Mrs. Finch's sensibilities."

His light tone did not reassure me. He had frightened me to the core and he knew it. We
walked along the path in silence, our hands twined. Presently I stopped shaking. He was there,
after all, not dead in a clump of heather.

In truth, I hadn't even considered that the injury might cause further trouble, my surgical
adventure had been so dramatic and seemed so complete. For Clanross it could only have been
the latest in a series of crises. That he was determined it would be the last, one way or another, I
knew. I pride myself on a logical mind. I should have followed through to the consequences.

"There's your bonnet. Shall we find a windmill to fling it over?"

I knelt by the sodden object, mostly to hide my tear-streaked face. "That seems to be all
it's good for."

He pulled me up and held me very close. "If I'd known you were attached to the blasted
thing, I'd have guarded it with my life."

If his voice was unsteady, mine must have been nearly incomprehensible, but I was able
to assure him that my attachment was not for the bonnet.

As we came out of the woods Maggie pranced up from the direction of the stables. "Oh,
it's you. I say, Clanross, isn't it wonderful!"

For a moment I thought she had been eavesdropping.

Apparently the same mad thought struck Clanross. He sounded flustered. "Er, yes. That
is, what?"

"Una is going to whelp," Maggie said soulfully.

Clanross kept a straight face with visible difficulty. "Isn't she a bit young?"

Maggie's face fell. "That's what Jem says." She deigned to notice me. "What happened
to your bonnet, Liz?"

"I flung it over the windmill." In the interest of clarity, I added, "I've agreed to wed
Clanross, Maggie."

Maggie stared, wide-eyed, then brightened. "Oh, by Jove, I'll give you a puppy for a
bridegift."

"Thank you, darling." I cleared my throat. "Whenever Una, er, feels up to it. And I hope
you and Jean will be my bridesmaids."

"Crikey! Wait till I tell Jean!"

She was poised to dash off. Clanross intercepted her. "Come in with us, Maggie, and
we'll all tell Jean."

My stomach knotted with apprehension. It was true that Jean had in the last months
transferred her visible affections to the curate, but Clanross had been her First Love. I did not
wish to hurt Jean. We moved to the door, Clanross's hand warm on mine, and I fumbled for
tactful phrases.

As we entered the warm foyer--had it been cold outside? I hadn't felt the damp--Miss
Bluestone descended the stair. She was carrying several letters and what looked like the unbound
copy of a journal in one hand. She saw us and beamed at Clanross.

"My lord, may I tender my congratulations? How proud you must be."

I cast Clanross a bewildered look. The corners of his mouth quirked, but he said merely,
"Is it out so soon? I've not seen it."

Miss Bluestone's eyes shone. She was so moved her back hair had begun to fall down.
"Jem has just brought it in the post. I'm very much obliged to you for asking them to send me a
copy. Are you not pleased?"

"What in the world?" I began.

Clanross released my hand and went forward to assist Miss Bluestone down the last
steps, for she had fumbled the journal open and clearly meant to negotiate the stairs blind, being
caught up in her reading.

"I've not seen it yet, ma'am." He was half laughing. "Don't trip. There. Very timely,
indeed, but I believe you must felicitate me in another cause altogether."

Miss Bluestone dropped the journal. "You've offered for Lady Elizabeth?"

He retrieved the mysterious publication and handed it to her. "Yes, and what's more
surprising, she's agreed to have me."

Miss Bluestone clutched the journal to her bosom. "Oh, my dears! Oh, my word, how
gratifying!"

He smiled down at her. "Shall you kiss the groom, Miss Bluestone?"

"Yes, indeed." Pink with pleasure, she stood tiptoe and kissed my betrothed handsomely
on the cheek. "And the bride, too. My dear Lady Elizabeth..."

"What's all the pother?" Jean's voice rang shrill.

I composed myself hastily and watched as she came down the curved stairwell. For a
moment, no one spoke, not even Maggie.

I cleared my throat. "Jean, darling..."

Clanross had returned to the newell and stood looking up at her. "I'm glad you've come
down, Jean." His manner was friendly. Avuncular? Not quite, but then he wasn't her uncle.
"Elizabeth has promised to wed me. Will you wish us happy?"

Jean stopped on the last step. She had gone pale and her jaw was set. I couldn't stand it. I
crossed to the stairs myself and extended my hand to her. "Jeanie..."

Standing on the step she was level with me. Our eyes locked. She licked her lips as if
they were dry and took a long breath. "I wish you very happy." She took my hand. Hers was
cold. She glanced over at Clanross, blinking, then, incredibly, she smiled at him, a blazing,
beautiful grin. "If you don't mind, Clanross, I'll congratulate Elizabeth."

I hugged her to me fiercely. My little sister was growing up.

"And only fancy, Jean, we're to be bridesmaids!" Maggie shrieked, bouncing to her
twin.

"Really?" Jean pulled away from me. "Truly, Liz?"

I nodded.

An expression of extreme craft crossed her flushed features. "May we put up our
hair?"

"Oh, Jean...oh, dear. Yes."

She let out a whoop and dragged Maggie in a victory dance to the withdrawing room
door from which Alice, looking sleepy, was just emerging.

That called for another round of explanations. Drawn by the pandemonium, Agnew
emerged from the pantry and cook from the kitchen. The parlourmaid and Dobbins followed, and
Clanross and I found ourselves the center of a battery of congratulations. I don't believe the
commotion carried to the stables--otherwise Jem and Harris and the stableboys would have
joined the circus, too.

Freed of our now steaming outer garments, we gained the withdrawing room, and
Agnew and cook went off to concoct a splendid tea.

There was no chance for quiet meditation. Maggie and Jean chattered like daws. I
believe they were planning their gowns. Alice, abetted by Miss Bluestone, still emitted little
shrieks of delight. I was sitting by Clanross. When I caught my breath, I stole a glance at him. He
was watching the lot with a very masculine expression of baffled amusement.

I jabbed his arm. "Stop gloating."

He met my eyes. "I'm entitled to a moment of gloat. Are you happy, Elizabeth?"

"Yes. It would do your
amour propre
no good to know how much. What is the
mysterious article you're meant to be pleased with?"

His eyes gleamed and his voice cut through the hubbub. "Miss Bluestone, show
Elizabeth my article."

"Your
article?" I took the journal, bewildered.

"Certainly. And I particularly want you to notice...no, not there, clunch." He took it
impatiently and riffled through to the end. "There."

I looked. The article was signed. 'Thos. Conway, Lincs.' in dark type. I felt my cheek
flame.