Lord Sidley's Last Season (6 page)

“There is an heir,” Sidley countered impatiently.
“Cousin Nigel shall do nicely.”

“Nigel Boscombe is a fool!”

“As I said, he shall do nicely.”

“You cannot convince me you are pleased that Nigel
might inherit.”

“I am not pleased. You know very well how thoroughly the prospect repels me. Not enough, however, to
suffer the lifelong irritation of rushing to prevent it.” He fingered the sofa’s upholstery. “I should prefer to hold
out for some soupcon of affection.”

“‘Soupcon of affection’ ! Would you even recognize
it, I wonder?”

His gaze measured her. “I should recognize it, Auntie,” he said softly. He looked again to the fire. “I am
fully aware that if I am to secure my own interests, I
must necessarily look to the interests of others. Every
day I receive correspondence relating to some pressing
problem or another. Too much has been ignored for too
long. Though you think me carelessly oblivious, I must
stress that, under the circumstances, troubling to pursue
my more personal desires assumes the nature of a challenge. I am working hard at enjoying life, ma’am.”

“My dear,” she began, “I am not recommending that
you abandon any thought of eventually building some
rapport, some affection, with a wife. After all, your parents were most famously enamored”

“If my parents’ marriage is to be upheld as an example, I am not at all certain I should choose to emulate it.
Do you think Father would have repeated it?”

“My brother loved your mother, Lee. He bore with
so much because he loved her. He would have wanted
to wed if only for a day”

Sidley looked at her skeptically. “Father was never
that much of a simpleton.”

“Indeed he was-about Alicia, and at age twenty-five”

“And who is to say I shan’t have Mother’s problems?”

“Alicia showed certain … erratic behaviors even in her teens, though none of us understood them for what
they were. Mercifully, neither Simon nor you ever exhibited the same. You cannot on any rational basis believe in the likelihood.”

“Those who might have me must consider it.”

“I have not heard mention of any perceived taint.
And I assure you, I keep abreast of the talk”

Sidley smiled at his aunt’s claim. “I would never question that, ma’am.” Again he tapped his cane against his
boot and considered the fire. “Speaking of the talk,
have you heard anything of Miss Ware, Lady Katherine’s cousin?”

“You expect me to know everyone, do you?” she
asked.

“Perhaps because you do seem to know everyone,
Auntie. Even cousins.”

“Have you met her, then? Edith has not yet brought
Miss Ware ‘round to call. I believe tutorials of some sort
pose an impediment, absorbing the girl’s time. Miss
Ware is the daughter of Edith’s first cousin, of whom she
was particularly fond. The mother tossed away her portion to run off and marry a soldier-an educated man,
and respectable, but not up to the Satterthwaite family
standards. I do not recall much of the history, but Miss
Ware and her brother were left orphans some four or five
years ago, when the father passed. The brother is a curate
in Northamptonshire, with expectations of a living in the
near term. He intends to wed this fall. Edith has much
affection for Marian Ware. She claims the girl is a most positive influence on Lady Katherine. I believe Miss
Ware’s in town just this June, studying-oh, something.”

“Art,” he supplied. “She is a painter.”

His aunt’s gaze settled disconcertingly on his. “Is
she?” she asked.

“So she says. I’ve not seen the evidence. But she has
hinted at the knowledge-and the temperament”

“Has she?”

This time Sidley looked to the fire. “She must be some
years older than Lady Katherine,” he said. “She has
greater composure. But they seem most companionable.”

“So I understood-from Edith.” There was a moment’s
pause; then she asked sharply, “What are you about?”

He turned in amusement to his aunt’s stern gaze. “Do
not panic, my dear,” he assured her. “Miss Ware is affianced, as you no doubt know, and due to wed this summer. I mention her only because it occurred to me that
she would be good company-for Lady Katherine, of
course-at your proposed house party. I should advise
including her in your invitation.”

“You intend to join me at Aldersham next week, then?”

“I think I must, as you have troubled to invite such
scintillating and outstandingly eligible company. Amusements here in town grow tedious. We have had our fill of
celebrations and rude foreign princes. Everyone talks
only of the country. Vaughn and Benjamin and I had
planned a country spree in any event”

“I do not like `sprees,’ Sidley. There will be no all night carousing at Aldersham. This is a most serious
business.”

“But we cannot alert our guests to that, surely? All
must be joyful entertainment. I must not be perceived
as seeking, and the young ladies must not be displayed as
the sought. We shall be delightfully obtuse. And rather
falsely intime. I take it you have selected some additional candidates for me, should young Lord Formsby
find reason to reject my offer, or Lady Katherine decline to wed a corpse?”

“I wish you would not speak so,” his aunt reproved.
“And at Aldersham, you must be seen to improve in
health-away from town’s dissipations.”

“The country’s dissipations might replace them.”

“I shall not countenance it, Sidley! You forget that
Aldersham is my home, for the rest of my days.”

He laughed. “I do not forget it, ma’am. Indeed, how
could I forget it? I merely tease you. I shall be on my best
behavior and squire whomever you wish about the garden paths. But I cannot promise you an engagement at
the end of the week”

“I shall work on that, you young jackanapes!”

“No doubt” Sidley rose to take his leave. “But do not
forget Miss Ware” And he noticed his aunt’s frown as
he leaned to kiss her good-bye.

Lady Katherine’s ball was a squeeze-so well attended, in fact, that had poor weather trapped all the guests inside, there would scarcely have been room for
dancing. Fortunately, the wide French doors to the garden were open, there was a breeze, and enough people
shifted about to make such movements possible.

The event was one of the last of the season, and a
certain sentiment-or relief-appeared to lend heightened gaiety to the gathering. Like a star at its brightest
before its end, society flaunted its excesses. Never had
the ladies dressed as beautifully; never had the gentlemen strolled as proudly.

Lord Sidley and his fellows, just announced, stood
inside the front hall and eyed the glittering crowd.

“This is hard of you, Sidley,” Lord Benjamin complained, “forcing me to this.”

“‘Twill do you no harm, Benny, to spend one evening in respectable company”

“And how would you know that?” he countered disagreeably.

Sidley surveyed the youngster carefully through a
quizzing glass. He thought the cub ill-mannered enough
to deserve a set-down. But he reminded himself of his
promise to Derwin. And he did not want any upset this
evening. As his gaze left Benny to wander over the ballroom, he at last found Lady Formsby-and then Marian
Ware. He did not trouble to locate Lady Katherine. As
he turned again to Benny, he forced himself to laugh.

“You are right, of course, my wayward friend. Respectable company and I have recently been strangers. So, shall we experiment together, just for this one evening?”

To his relief, Benny grinned. “I ‘spose one evening is
little enough”

“We shan’t stay long, Benny,” Vaughn added. “Since
Sidley cannot dance, and you will not”

“And you, Vaughn,” Sidley said, nodding his head toward a couple at the far side of the room, “perhaps should
not” He had noticed Griffin Knox and his wife standing
in a far corner. Knox, florid-faced and heavy-shouldered,
looked what he was-a man who had fought his way to
riches and success so single-mindedly that some wags
dared call him “Gruff’un” Knox behind his back. He had
bought himself a place in society. He had also bought
himself a young and pretty wife. It was Vaughn’s ill fortune that the spouse Knox had chosen to acquire
was Jenny Lanning. When Vaughn had gone to war four
years earlier, fair Jenny had been his own intended.

“I am over it, Sidley,” Vaughn said softly.

“Good. Then Knox has no cause to make trouble?”

“None at all”

“You have not seen her?”

“I-” Vaughn stopped and stared hard at Lord Benjamin. “Benny will tell you in any event. We encountered Mrs. Knox in Berkeley Square last week. She was
passably civil, as was I. There is nothing, Sidley.”

“I’ve never seen a woman look so shattered, Sidley,”
Benny said. “Shied like a pony. As if she’d seen a ghost”

“A ghost to her, certainly,” Vaughn commented. “May
I beg the two of you to abandon this subject?”

“He can’t be the best of husbands,” Benny persisted.
“Why, I’ve seen Knox at some of the worst-”

“Few of us make good husbands,” Sidley inserted
quickly.

“Perhaps Mrs. Knox does not deserve a good husband,” Vaughn said.

Sidley sighed. “You do not believe that, Vaughn,” he
said, forcing a smile. “We shall dodge them both. There
are enough here this evening to make avoidance not only
desirable but possible. Let us to it, gentlemen.” And he
led his companions across the room toward their hostess.

“Lord Sidley has come,” Edith said softly at Marian’s side. “Late enough to make an entrance, but not so
late as to be discourteous.”

“I cannot believe he is that calculating, Aunt,” Marian said, though she was beginning to have her doubts.

“Can you not, Marian? He is a frightfully intelligent
man, and perhaps,” she mused aloud, “not best suited
for Katie.”

“Has he-has he offered, then, Edith?” Marian asked,
watching Sidley and his companions begin a slow but
impressively received advance around the packed room.
Without exception the ladies greeted him rapturously;
the men seemed equally divided between delight and
awe. Marian’s own interest was infinitely more than
polite.

“He has not offered, Marian. I begin to hope that he
will not. Katie is so set on it-as though to prove that
she can bring him up to scratch. Such thinking is not a
sound basis for marriage. And given his reported ill
health, I am most uneasy. But she will not listen.”

“I have my doubts as well, Aunt. Perhaps Lord Sidley
suspects the same, for I have not observed any particular preference on his part”

“Haven’t you, Marian? There is the matter of the
book” When Marian stayed silent, Edith added, “His
aunt, Lady Adeline, seems to wish it. I have not had the
heart to discourage her. Adeline has had so many disappointments. Oh, look, Marian,” she diverted, “Katie
dances well with Mr. Merrick”

For a second Marian was distracted, watching her
cousin step about gracefully with an obviously enraptured partner.

“Is … is Lady Adeline resigned to Lord Sidley’s
passing then, Aunt?”

“Adeline Pell has never resigned herself to much of
anything, Marian. If there is the slightest hope for him,
she will admit of no other possibility. But you will see
for yourself. I shall take you to meet her on Monday.
She sent a note ‘round. I believe she wishes you to accompany us to Aldersham”

“Aldersham! But I could not possibly go! I have my
work, and-”

“Good heavens, Marian! How can that possibly compare with a visit to Aldersham?”

“Did I hear Aldersham mentioned?” Sidley asked,
coming up to them. He bowed low first to Lady Formsby,
then to Marian. “It is a place with which I claim some acquaintance.”

“Less than you should, so I hear,” Lady Formsby said
lightly.

“If I were to have your company there, my lady, I
should never quit the place”

As her sensible cousin Edith visibly melted, Marian
met Sidley’s gaze. She knew the danger of holding his
very blue attention, but the opportunity was irresistible.

“‘Twas most kind of you to come this evening, my
lord,” she said.

“I should have felt the lack had I not come, Miss
Ware” He at last looked away from her to present his
companions to her aunt.

“You see my daughter on the floor, Lord Sidley,”
Lady Formsby said, “but I believe she has held a dance
for you this evening.”

“That was most kind of her. But, alas, I am not yet agile enough to dance. Perhaps one of my friends would
be honored?”

Both Lord Benjamin and Lord Vaughn promptly
sought the dance, and Lady Formsby left the decision
to Katherine. As his fellows excused themselves to
acknowledge others of their acquaintance, Lord Sidley
again looked to Marian.

“You are not dancing, Miss Ware”

“I have been, my lord. I merely take a rest.”

“Then you must consider showing me some part of
the gardens. I would welcome a turn in the air.”

You have just arrived, Marian challenged him silently,
and she suspected that he had read her thoughts when he
claimed, “Air is good for me”

“Certainly, my lord,” Edith acknowledged quickly.
“Marian, do accompany Lord Sidley outside. There’s a
good girl.”

Inwardly rebelling that she should be so commanded,
Marian led the way through the crowd, heedless of
whether Lord Sidley followed her or not. But she knew
without question that he did. She had thought she looked
well this evening-she had caught some glances earlier
in her new, beribboned gown-but the attention had
been nothing at all like that drawn in advance of Lord
Sidley. As the wake of onlookers parted before them,
Marian likened herself to the prow of some magnificent,
stately vessel.

When they crossed the threshold to the terrace, Marian whirled about-and collided with his chest. “Oh, I
do beg your pardon”

“‘Tis nothing, Miss Ware” His gaze once again
laughed at her. “I am not so easily felled.”

No, she thought, glancing at his broad shoulders in
his immaculately elegant dark coat, clearly not. But
his outward solidity reminded her of the transience she
would have preferred to forget. As she walked beside him to the stone baluster at the terrace edge, Marian noticed that the earlier crowd of revelers had thinned, no
doubt in eager flight to the supper room.