Lord Darlington's Darling (19 page)

Abby returned a disjointed answer, unsure how to
reply to Lord Darlington’s frank speech. She saw in
it as a threat to her own happiness. If he should ever
become disillusioned in her, it would be as though the
sun had gone out. Of course, the truth was bound to come out sooner or later. It nearly always did, she
thought. More than ever, she wished quite passion
ately that she had not allowed herself to be persuaded
by Lady Bethany to act as go-between in that damsel’s in
trigues. Undoubtedly it would be ever so much better
if Lord Darlington learned of her irresponsibility from
her own lips rather than secondhand.

Impulsively, she turned her head to tell him about
her dealings with his sister and Mr. Farnham, but at
the last instant something stopped her. Abby recog
nized cowardliness for what it was. She was afraid, so
afraid, that Lord Darlington’s burgeoning regard for
her was not strong enough to withstand the knowledge she had helped his sister to deceive him. So her con
fession died before it was born.

“I will not come in, since I have sent my groom home,” said Lord Darlington. “But be assured that I
will wait upon the Crockers at no very distant date.”

“I do hope they will smile upon you, my lord,” said
Abby anxiously. When he laughed, she realized how
infelicitous her statement had been. A smile hovered
on her lips as she said wryly, “Oh, dear! That did not
sound at all complimentary, did it?”

“Nevertheless, I understand you. Your sister and
brother-in-law are completely respectable, while I
have a few black marks against me. My departed fa
ther’s unsavory reputation for gaming, for instance.
They will wish to be assured that his vice does not
run through my veins, nor his renowned profligacy
with his possessions,” said Lord Darlington. “I feel
certain I can lay to rest any such concerns. But even
if the Crockers do set their face against me, you forget, my darling, that it is not your sister or brother-
in-law who stand as your guardian.”

Abby had felt a twinge of anxiety, but her spirits
rose when she considered his observation. “No, indeed! My mother is my guardian, and she likes you very well, I am persuaded.”

“So I trust.” Lord Darlington set her down before
the door of the town house and waited until she had
gone up the front steps and been let in before he set his team once more into motion.

I
t was only natural that Abby’s relations should be
curious about her drive with Lord Darlington, since
it was a spur-of-the-moment occurrence. Mrs. Crocker expressed herself about the inadvisability of encourag
ing such informal manners in the marquess, with which
sentiment Mrs. Fairchilde agreed.

“I should not like you to be seen as coming, dearest,”
said Mrs. Fairchilde gently.

“Oh, no! I shouldn’t like that, either,” said Abby. “Was it really too forward of me to accept his lord
ship’s invitation as I did?”

“For my part, I don’t see what harm can come out
of Lord Darlington taking Abby for a drive in the
park,” said Mr. Crocker, giving the matter due consid
eration. “Mind, I don’t care overmuch for the fellow.
He’s dandified and too cold for my taste, but I know
of nothing else anyone may have to say against him.”

“You’re a great deal too nice, Peter,” remarked Au
gust derisively, sprawled on the sofa, his long hands
thrust into his pockets.”

“And what do you know about his lordship, Au
gust?” asked Mr. Crocker, amused.

August shrugged. “I think of Lord Darlington well
enough.”

“Lord Darlington? I like him,” said Mrs. Pad
dington firmly. “He’s not one of these milksops, as
anyone can plainly see. I have no doubt whatsoever
that young man could hold his own in a fight.”

August smiled fondly at his aunt, but did not say anything.

Mr. Crocker looked dubious at the elderly lady’s
statement, but he chose not to remark on it. Mrs. Fairchilde
was not so backward and reproved her sister,
“Priscilla! Why, anyone listening who did not know
you would think you preferred to deal with the fringes
of society. While I am certain Lord Darlington is not
behind in all manly attributes, I would scarcely stigma
tize him as a
tough
!”

“I never said any such thing! If you weren’t so infer
nally maggoty yourself, Caroline, you would know
precisely what I meant,” said Mrs. Paddington.

“I am glad to say I don’t know,” said Mrs. Fairchilde
, a spot of color rising in her thin cheeks.

Mrs. Paddington snorted.

Mrs. Crocker ignored the elderly ladies’ skirmishing.
“As long as you behaved yourself with propriety,
Abby, then I am certain I have nothing to reproach
you for.” She was engaged in skinning a peach with
a small silver knife and did not look up at her sister.

Abby tried to look innocent. She hoped her rela
tions could not read her mind just then, for she was
vividly remembering how Lord Darlington had kissed
her. How very improperly she had behaved! But how
wonderful that the marquess had actually requested her
permission to court her. She hoped her relations
would not stand in his lordship’s way. Hesitantly she
asked, “Then—then you have no objection to receiv
ing Lord Darlington?”

Mrs. Crocker looked over at Abby in surprise, her
brows rising, as she paused in denuding the fruit. “Of
course we shall receive the marquess, my dear. What a
very odd question, to be sure!”

Mr. Crocker stared hard at his sister-in-law. “It’s
my opinion that you’ve formed a passion for the
marquess.”

Abby blushed fierily, but she was spared the neces
sity of replying when her sister laughed.

“Pray don’t be absurd. Peter! Why, how can Lord Darlington compare to Lord Fielding in Abby’s eyes? Oh, in birth the gentlemen are certainly equal, but Lord Fielding
is undoubtedly wealthier, and he is punctilious with
regard to every propriety,” said Mrs. Crocker. She
glanced at her sister. “Isn’t that so, Abby?”

“Lord Fielding is indeed very worthy,” said Abby
quietly. She was unhappily aware that her sister could not see Lord Darlington’s superior qualities. She won
dered how she was ever to explain it.

August grimaced. “Oh, yes, very worthy! And a
dead bore, too.”

Mr. Crocker started to reply, but his spouse fore
stalled him. Mrs. Crocker, determined to end a discus
sion that must naturally be embarrassing for her sister,
posed a query to him so that he was diverted into a
discussion of plans for a supper ball to be held later
that month. Mrs. Fairchilde, equally interested, con
tributed her mite.

Knowing herself to be forgotten, at least for a few moments, Abby allowed a tiny sigh to escape her. She
was surprised when her brother grinned at her, before
saying, “Don’t pay us any heed, Abby.”

Mrs. Paddington reached out to pat Abby’s hand
and there was a wealth of understanding in her clever,
old eyes. In a much lower voice than was usual with her, she said quietly, “Never mind, dear. You’ll dis
cover which of them you like better before you’ve
grown much older. And I’ll stand by you whatever decision you make.”

Abby smiled gratefully at her aunt. “Thank you,
ma’am!”

Nothing more was said about Lord Darlington or Abby’s unattended drive in the park with him, at least by her family. When Lord Fielding came to call a day
or so later, however, he was full of what he called
“the incident.”

“I cannot express more strongly my shock at having
it disclosed to me that you were seen driving with that
fellow alone and unattended,” he said, disapproval
fairly dripping from his words.

Abby tried to retain her smiling manner despite the
tiny spurt of anger she felt at his lordship’s presump
tion. “If my relations have not expressed themselves
shocked, my lord, I scarcely think it appropriate for
you to do so.”

“Ah! But you must make allowances for one who
is overcome by the finer feelings for you, Miss Fair
childe,” said Lord Fielding. He took firm possession
of her hands. “Perhaps this is not the best moment,
but I cannot put off any longer speaking of what is in
my heart.”

“Pray do not, my lord!” said Abby hastily.

Lord Fielding was unheeding. He had the bit in his teeth and was determined to unburden himself at last.
“Miss Fairchilde, it comes as little surprise to you, I
am certain, that I hold you in the upmost regard. In
deed, before you came on the scene, I had not be
lieved that there was a lady whom I could reverence
in just such a way. But so it is! Miss Fairchilde, I lay my heart at your feet and beg of you to accept
my suit!”

Abby had tried unavailingly to interrupt his lordship
during his pretty speech. Now she stared helplessly up
at him. It occurred to her that Lord Fielding was looking smug, as though he had no doubt of her reply, and
that realization helped stiffen her resolve. She pulled
free her hands. “My lord, I fear you are precipitate,”
she began.

Lord Fielding appeared surprised. “Precipitate! My
dear Miss Fairchilde, surely you were informed by
your brother-in-law that I desired to press my suit
some weeks past.”

“Yes, indeed I was, but—”

“And I hinted to you in this very room only three
days ago upon what subject I wished to speak to you,”
he pursued.

“Yes, of course you did. And I understood you per
fectly,” said Abby. She saw that bewilderment was
gaining place in his expression and her compassion
was stirred. She hated to give pain to one who had
proven himself so faithful. She could not bring herself
to completely rebuff him, so she said, “My lord, the
truth is that I am unsettled in my mind. I—I realize
that I, and my family, too, have given you cause to
believe— However, I cannot answer you as you
would like!”

Lord Fielding seemed to mull over what she had
said, while Abby folded and refolded her hands in her
lap. She was embarrassed and apprehensive and
wished his lordship would simply stand up and walk
out of the drawing room. Of course, that was too
much to hope for, since Lord Fielding was too much the gentleman to ever do such a thing. So she waited
on tenterhooks how he would respond to her re
jection.

Lord Fielding did not disappoint her. With a long expression, he sighed and shook his head. “I have long
held the opinion that females are not the best judge
of their interests, and I am sorry to say that I am
proved right. However, I do not despair, Miss Fairchilde
! I still have every expectation of a happy con
clusion. I do not deny that I am displeased by your
answer to me today, for that would be less than truth
ful. Yet I will forbear any recriminations. Indeed, what
purpose would it serve to try to bring you to a better
understanding at such an inauspicious moment?
Therefore, I shall reserve any words of mine until such
time as I deem more conducive to my suit.”

Abby nearly wilted with her relief. “Thank you, my
lord! I am truly grateful for your forbearance,” she said, inexpressibly glad that he was not going to cut up at her.

He stood up and bowed to her. With a rather stiff
expression, as well as carriage, he turned away and
went to the door of the drawing room.
The door opened just as he reached for the brass
knob, and he rocked back a step. “Mrs. Crocker! For
give me, I did not intend to bar your passage.”

“No, indeed! It was I who was in the way,” said
Mrs. Crocker, smiling as she held out her hand. “Do
you leave us so soon, my lord?”

Lord Fielding cast a backward glance as he shook her hand. “I fear I must, ma’am. Pray do not be of
fended if I do not linger.”

“Of course I am not offended!” Mrs. Crocker said
a few more things, seeing that Lord Fielding was prop
erly shown out by the servants, before she turned back into the drawing room. Carefully closing the door be
hind her, she stood quite still as she stared across the
room at her sister. “Well!”

Abby did not quite dare to meet her sister’s eyes.
She rose from the settee. “I think I shall go up to my
bedroom. I see that it is nearly teatime, and I should
like to change.”

Mrs. Crocker did not move from her place in front
of the door. “He offered for you, didn’t he? And you
refused him! Oh, Abby, how could you?”

Abby put up her chin, a trifle defiantly, even though
her cheeks were suffused with heat. “I don’t love him,
Melissa! Besides, I didn’t precisely refuse him. At
least, I mustn’t have, because he means to speak to
me again in future.”

“I trust you shall have a happier answer for Lord
Fielding then!” snapped Mrs. Crocker. She caught
herself up, sighed, and shook her head. “You have
behaved very foolishly, Abby. I would never have
thought it of you. I don’t know what Peter will say.”

“Perhaps it is not what Peter will say to the purpose, but what Mama has to say!” exclaimed Abby, feeling
herself goaded beyond endurance. She put up her
hands and pressed them against her cheeks.

Mrs. Crocker turned and opened the door. “You
are obviously beside yourself, my dear. Perhaps you
should
go upstairs. I think a few minutes’ private re
flection will be quite good for you.”

Abby swept past her sister without a word, glad to
escape from Mrs. Crocker’s obvious displeasure. How
awkward it was, to be so beholden to her sister for
everything, to be fully cognizant of her sister’s good
ness toward her. It would make her sister so happy if
she were to accept Lord Fielding. But Abby simply
could not bring herself to take that fatal step. Equally
impossible to explain fully was why she was being so
disobliging, for in her sister’s eyes there was only one
gentleman who was suited to be her spouse.