Lord Sidley's Last Season (16 page)

“Then I propose to take a solo jaunt,” Dicky said, rising to his feet. “I shall move clockwise, to confront our
host head-on. His measured method wears” Which comment told Marian that Dicky had also noted Sidley’s
regimen.

As Dicky strode on down the slope toward the lake,
Clara smiled at Marian. “My brother’s spirits have lifted
here at Aldersham,” she remarked, her fond gaze on
Dicky’s tousled brown head. “I’m much relieved. I know
my own low mood has weighed on him. I have been the
poorest company”

“That is most doubtful,” Marian said, returning the
smile. “You have been the best of company here, though
your situation is one that all of us would find difficult.”
As Clara swallowed, Marian risked a question. “Were
they much alike, Lord Sidley and his brother?”

Clara sighed as her gaze moved to Sidley and Delia
across the water.

“They looked much alike, though Simon was not as
dark-his hair was closer in color to Dicky’s. And he
was always more reserved than Lee, less … , playful,
perhaps. He was at all times aware that he was heir to
Aldersham. I think he felt more keenly the responsibility to the family, with his father so distracted by Lady
Sidley’s difficulties, and having a younger brother. I
have wondered if that is why he chose to run off to war
there at the end. ‘Twas the only irresponsible thing Simon ever did. The future, even … even with me, must
have seemed much too settled. And despite our attachment, he’d convinced himself I was still too young
to wed. I shall be twenty this autumn, Miss Ware,” she
added.

In the subsequent pause, Marian reflected that in this group of very young women, she herself was one of the
eldest. Only Delia TinckneyDwight claimed some two
additional years.

“Simon and Lee were always close,” Clara continued. “They loved their mother dearly, but she was
never-never quite to rights. Luckily, her sons were not
troubled in that particular way. Always very steady and
strong”

Dicky Poole was making quick work of the distance
to the other couple. As he at last saluted Sidley and
bowed with a comically low flourish to Delia, Marian
kept her gaze on them rather than Clara.

“It must be doubly hard, then, that Lord Sidley should
be so ill now.”

“He was ill, Miss Ware. But you see how much improved he looks here at home. Even at breakfast I noticed that his color was much healthier.”

Marian hated to correct the girl, to disillusion her.
And, truth be told, Lord Sidley had looked better today
than yesterday. Perhaps excitement regarding his decision had given him a beneficial glow. Or he had removed some powder.

“You know him best, Miss Poole,” she conceded,
pressing her pencil point too darkly against the page.
“And certainly we must always hope. But you must be
aware of the talk-that his condition is most serious…

“Lee has said so?”

“I think-well, I do not quite know. But Lady Adeline is very close to my aunt Edith. She would have relayed
anything to the contrary”

“I do not believe it!” Clara objected. “If that is the
talk, there is some misapprehension. We heard he was
ill on returning to England. We heard he had come near
to losing his leg. Lady Adeline was most distraught. But
he was always strong. If anything, the years away have
only made him more so. True, when he arrived last
week, we were told that an accident in town had set him
back”-Marian had the grace to blush guiltily-“but
he’s threatened that tonight he means to dance! And
Dicky expects to go riding with him any day. Lee is not
foolishly impetuous, Miss Ware. He would not attempt
so much unprepared.”

“Then perhaps we have been misinformed,” Marian
allowed. She did not have the heart to discourage her.
She could not meet Clara Poole’s frown and returned
diligently to the complexities of her sketch.

“Indeed, I must believe so. Else why should he be
contemplating marriage?”

“We-we understood he thought it time,” Marian
said. “Regardless of his-regardless of his prospects”

When she again looked up, Clara’s expression was
more contemplative than alarmed. She was watching the
three now ambling along the lakeside toward them.

“Tell me, Miss Ware, what do you think of Miss
TinckneyDwight?”

“I think”-Marian still concentrated on her pencil
strokes-“that she is quite … perfect”

“Yes,” Clara sighed beside her. “It is impossible not to
find her so. And yet … But he must know his own mind.”

Marian at last looked up. “You do not object-that
Lord Sidley appears to have chosen?”

Clara shook her head, though her small smile was
rueful. “Dicky and I wish him happy. Lee is in many
ways another brother. We must welcome his choice as
we would welcome any member of the family.”

The words were generous; they were proper. But despite the acceptance of Delia’s perfections, Marian
sensed a certain disappointment. Whether it was on
Clara’s part or Sidley’s, Marian did not press. She had
come to an understanding of her own, an understanding
that at once dismayed her and led her to take care with
Clara Poole’s feelings. In observing Sidley that afternoon, Marian had realized that she could not proceed
with her engagement to William Reeves, that she could
not bind herself to a marriage of practicality alone.
However ill-fated the choice, however improper the
sentiment, she was in love with another; she was in love
with Lord Sidley.

She had not believed hearts such weak instruments,
to be drawn so easily and completely from their own
safe interest. Yet hers had proved remarkably, traitorously adaptable. And she would soon find herself in
Clara Poole’s unenviable position, but without the open
acknowledgment of bereavement.

She could no longer work and sat scribbling upon the
page in some agitation.

“Ho!” Dicky called as the walkers approached.
“We must make haste for the domicile. Sidley insists
we dance this evening.”

Katie had discarded her lemonade and now rose to
join them. “Will we have the same musicians, my
lord?” she asked, inserting herself neatly between Sidley and Delia.

“We will indeed, Lady Katherine. And they will play
whatever tune you request” Sidley’s gaze fell upon
Marian’s sketch, which she hurriedly covered. “How
industrious you are, Miss Ware. You put the rest of our
frolicking party to shame”

“You have been a most industrious walker, my lord.”

His smile was irritatingly satisfied. “I have, haven’t
I? After such rigorous exercise, Lady Katherine’s gigue
will no doubt be beyond me”

“Oh, no!” Katie protested. “I shall ask them to play it
slowly!”

“A dirge of a gigue? I am most grateful, my lady.”

Marian suspected that only she noticed the challenge
in Sidley’s voice. She knew it annoyed him to be treated
as an invalid.

“You must have them play everything slowly, Lady
Katherine,” Dicky said. “I have not been dancing for
many months and must consult the steps cards”

“I shall show you this afternoon if you like,” Katie
offered helpfully. “And this evening you might dance
with Marian, for she was always termed patient by our
dancing instructor.”

“Was she indeed?” Dicky asked with a smile. “I should
have wished to dance with Miss Ware in any event”

“Are we ready to return?” Sidley asked abruptly.
“Lady Formsby, have you had quite enough of the air?
Auntie?”

They piled into the carriages for the brief drive back,
leaving servants to pack up the remains of their repast
and direct the riding party home. Most then retreated to
their rooms for a period of rest before the evening’s entertainments. Indeed, Katie actually slept while Marian
worked on her watercolor painting. But after little more
than an hour her cousin was awake and ready to talk.

“I have been thinking, Marian,” she began, while considering which gown she would wear that evening, “that
I should very much like an offer from Lord Sidley.”

Marian drew a sharp breath and dabbed at the unintentional bloom of paint before her. “You are certain,
Katie?”

“About the offer, indeed. It is so important, you see,
that everyone know I receive it.”

“If you accept him, ‘twill be supposed”

“But I’ve no intention of accepting him.”

Marian turned to her impatiently. “What are you on
about, Katie?”

“Just that I-I like Lord Sidley. I truly do, Marian.
But he is so very old. Almost twenty-nine! And I thinkin fact, I know-I should most definitely like another
season, or even two, before I become Lady Sidley.”

“He does not have that time, Cousin.”

“Oh, I know. Even if I might have many seasons as
Lady Sidley, I should be in mourning two years. And
unable to dance! I should abhor it above all things. But
he does not seem so terribly ill, does he, Marian? Just a
bit slow. Although there is something in his mannersomething that reminds me of Papa-that I find I cannot quite like.”

Marian silently credited Katie with more insight than
she had displayed to date. Sidley did treat Katie as
though she were less a partner than a charge.

“Then why should you wish an offer, Katie? Because
it is a matter of pride?”

Katie was nodding vigorously. “Too many know
that I’ve-that I’ve claimed to want one. I cannot turn
back now!”

“But what of Lord Sidley’s pride, you goose? Do you
think he will enjoy such a refusal?”

“I think he will offer for someone else straightaway,”
she said practically. “I expect Becca Harvey would
have him.”

You are wrong there, Marian thought silently. Delia
shall have him.

“Anyway,” Katie continued, “I might need your help
tonight, to bring him up to scratch.”

“And how shall I do that, pray?”

“When you talk with him, you must remind him that
other gentlemen have been most attentive to me in town”

“He knows that already, Katie. You are wildly popular. But Lord Sidley will not compete.”

“Oh, yes he will,” she claimed. “All gentlemen do”

Marian sighed. “If I speak with him, I will mention
it. But why should he listen to me?”

“He seems to admire you-as an artist. He always
has something to say to you. This afternoon he was asking me about your home in Brinford. And he’s asked
several times about William, whom I’ve only met the
once, and that long ago, when I was fifteen. Lord Sidley
has little to say to me unless it concerns you”

“He finds me a curiosity, Katie. An oddity, nothing
more. He searches for reasons to tease me”

“He teases you as well? Then I shan’t find it so vexing.”

When they at last went downstairs, music already
flooded the common rooms. There were just enough couples among Aldersham’s guests to insure that all who
wished to stand up to dance could do so, however small
the set. When Marian came to dance with Edgar, she
queried him about his fascination with Rebecca Harvey.

“Good Lord, Marian, you sound as frosty as Mother!
Becca is absolutely wonderful! You should have seen
her ride today-she cleared a six-foot hedge on the
way home as though it were no more than a line of pebbles! And she was on that nervy gray hunter of Sidley’s
too! Ripping rider!”

“Yes, but Edgar, are you serious? What do you know
of her character? Are you intending to speak to her father, to make her-”

“I might, Marian. I very well might. And if I do, then you and Mother and Katie shall simply have to accept her!”

“If she accepts you”

“I’m almost certain she would,” he said. “If Benjamin, who hasn’t a single worthy impulse, would leave
off pestering her! He shouldn’t think Becca entertains
any charity toward him at all, with him just the least of
Derwin’s brood-”

“She has given you reason to hope, then, Cousin?”

“More than hope, Marian! The way she smiles at
me-as though we share some secret of our own..

As his raptures continued, Marian ceased to comment. Her gaze slid to Sidley, who danced farther down
the set with Edith. Apparently he was having no difficulty executing the steps. She watched him turn. And
his own gaze caught her watching him.

At once she focused intently on Lord Vaughn, who
passed her in the line. Lord Benjamin had told them of
Vaughn’s history with Jenny Lanning, now Mrs. Knox.
Marian found herself thinking that Vaughn also cared for
someone beyond reach. She knew her consideration held
compassion. She felt herself coloring at the thought, but
she doubted the viscount read her expression correctly.
He was a most grave-looking gentleman.

They did not dance long. Edith and Lady Adeline left
the floor, shrinking the set. Lord Sidley and the Harveys
excused themselves from the subsequent lively gigue,
which was the last dance preceding a late supper. In the
dining room, Marian was once more assigned to the center of the table, across from Clara Poole. Marian was
thoroughly ashamed of herself and of her betraying,
ambitious heart; for, however much she might wish to
think of him, she could not seem to summon William.
And though Sidley was too readily in her thoughts, she
refused to contemplate him. She would not look toward
her host at the head of the table and concentrated instead on moving her untouched supper about her plate.

Her host’s choice of bride had to be near at hand.
She told herself she was prepared. Yet when the group
retired for the night, no announcement had been made,
and Marian was left to confront a final morning of
work on Lord Sidley’s portrait.

Sidley had debated with himself for much of the
night-whether to speak to her or not. He’d determined
that as either course bore with it a certain measure of
risk, he might as soon opt for the happier.

And so he told Vaughn as they rode the next morning. “I must choose, Vaughn. Why should I not choose
what gives me pleasure?”

“Miss Ware is affianced”

“But she is not yet married. I have your example before
me, my friend. How should I feel were she to marry Lieutenant Reeves? I should forever regret not having spoken”