Midnight Bride (13 page)

Then she remembered Dunstan. Before Charles could open his mouth to ask her why she would not sit down that very day and draft a letter, she asked, "Why did you bring Lord Dunstan here?"

"He was at the club when I was forming the party.
Would have been rude if I had not offered an invitation.
I was rather surprised when he accepted," Charles said, not at all pleased to have her attention diverted from his problem.

Elizabeth was carefully casual with her next question. "Is he the same Viscount Dunstan I have heard so many stories about?"

"Robert? Doubt it.
Straight as an arrow.
Knew him at school.
He was in his last year when I entered. Now, his brother and father—they were the subjects of every gossip monger from London to Scotland—even made the papers, made your scandal look like a mere bagatelle." He laughed heartily.

"My scandal?"
Her voice was dangerously low. As hurt as she was by his careless reminder, she also breathed a sigh of relief to discover that at least Dunstan had been honest with her in that part of what he had said.

"Now, Little Bit, you know what I mean." He glanced at her, trying to determine just how far he could go. Her eyes were sparkling, whether from anger or from laughter he wasn't sure. "It has been four years, Elizabeth. Even you should have gotten over it by now."

"Gotten over being the center of attention, having everyone gossiping about me?" She was angry. Charles cursed under his breath, regretting his impulsive mention of the affair.
"Even the next year they were talking about me.
I heard them when I went to fix a torn flounce. 'Too bad even all that money cannot keep a man. I suppose she will have to set her sights lower this Season. After all, it is her third.' I knew whom they were talking about." She sat down, covering her face with her hands, shaking as though it had happened only minutes before.

"Oh, Little Bit," Charles said as he wrapped his arms around her, patting her comfortingly. "You never liked being the center of attention, did you? Even at your birthday parties, you wanted me beside you." She shook her head against his shoulder. "How did you ever survive your Seasons?"

She pulled away, straightening her dress. "That was easy. I had Amelia the first Season. She didn't mind being the center of attention."

"Too true," Charles said laughingly. "Remember when she got her hair caught in John's waistcoat buttons?"

"I was so embarrassed, and there she was snuggling against him." Elizabeth's face lit with laughter. "He did propose the very next day. I have often wondered how she managed that."

"What else could the poor man do? He was hopelessly compromised," Charles reminded her. Although she knew that her two friends had been deeply in love, Elizabeth lost some of her color at the word "compromise." If John had been compromised by simply having Amelia so close, what would Charles think about what had happened to his sister that morning? She took a deep breath, visualizing exactly what he would do, her face losing even more color. Charles watched his sister's face and wished that he had held his tongue.

"Elizabeth, you know John had already made an appointment to see Amelia's father. You told me so yourself. I was simply joshing."

"You must think I am silly," she said quietly, wishing that she could be as fun-loving and easygoing as her brother was.

"No. I think you have convinced yourself that all those people of the
ton
do
is
talk about you."

"Even I am not that self-centered. But you must admit that gossip is one of their chief occupations." She sounded very bitter.

"What do you expect from people who have nothing better to do with their lives? And don't tell me that when you and Amelia get together, she doesn't bring you up-to-date on what has happened."

At that Elizabeth had the grace to look ashamed. She did enjoy her visits with Amelia and the gossip they shared. "But we do it in private."

"And that makes it all right?" Charles walked across the room and stood beside the mantel, carefully considering his next words. For the first time since she had returned home abruptly after the beginning of her third Season, she was talking about what had happened, and he did not want her to stop. He thought for a moment or two and then said, "Elizabeth, do you remember the first time I got to ride by myself?"
She nodded, not certain why he had asked.
"I fell off into that big mud puddle." He looked at her to make certain she was listening. "Do you remember what my groom made me do?"

"Get back on and ride home."

"That is what you should have done. Little Bit, the
ton
cannot touch you if you don't care what they are saying."

"But I do care. It makes me ill to think that people are talking about me.
'Poor Elizabeth.'
I heard enough of that when I was a child." She got up and walked over to him. "I love your mother dearly, but she never understood how hard it was for me to accept her, to call her Mama. Then the servants, at least the ones who had known my mother, kept reminding me.
'Poor Miss Elizabeth.
So young to lose her mother.'
For a long time I thought I was the one who had caused her to go away, to die. All
I
could think about was what I had done to 'lose' her." Her eyes filled with tears as she remembered how she had hid in the schoolroom with her nanny, trying to escape the changes in her life. "Then just when everything was going so perfectly, it happened again
. 'Poor Elizabeth.'
I thought I would die. Charles, I simply could not go through it anymore." She put up her hand to wipe the tears from her cheeks. Instead he dabbed her eyes with his handkerchief. When she was calm again, she went on, "Father understood. At least I think he did. I have always thought that was why he bought the manor and tied it up the way he did." Thinking of his conversation with Hartley that morning, Charles flinched. "Oh, Charles, here I have been able to get away from the past. People accept me for who I am; they don't pity me." Her voice was earnest, pleading with him to understand.

"I do understand," he assured her. "You forget that I have been part of the
ton
for a couple of years now." He paused for a moment, thinking about how eagerly he had left the university for the last time. "At first it was fun, heady, exciting. After my cousin died, things changed." His face was pensive. He drew her arm through his and walked to the settee. "After George died, I became an object of great interest. I received more cards for balls, breakfasts, picnics than I ever imagined possible. But all anyone wanted was for me to marry one of their daughters."

"Marry? Charles, are you serious about someone? You are so young." Accustomed as she was to her society, Elizabeth saw nothing unusual in that remark. Although girls were expected to marry before they reached twenty, men waited.

"No. But Mama has joined the ranks of the matchmakers," he said angrily. "Every time I am invited for dinner or to a ball there is a new young lady for me to meet. You saw what happened at Christmas." Elizabeth nodded, for the first time realizing why so many of her stepmother's cousins and their families had joined them. "And you should see some of her choices." Charles rolled his eyes.

"Remember I have been through this, too. Mama was determined that my second Season would be my last as an unmarried lady. If I had not accepted Jack when I did, I think she would have had a spasm." For the first time Elizabeth could laugh at the events of that year. She giggled, thinking how chagrined her stepmother had been when she had accepted a mere "Mister" after refusing a viscount and a baron.

"Well, whatever she didn't have over you, she is having with me. She is driving me to drink." Elizabeth raised her eyebrows suggestively, and he had the grace to blush. "Don't lecture me." Charles ran his hand through his hair, disarranging his curls. "I think that if I would agree to marry, she would suddenly find that she could somehow find the courage to let me go into the army."

"Charles!"

"That is all she ever talks to me about, Elizabeth. Why do you think I came to the country?"

"I had hoped it was to see Cousin Louisa and me," she said dryly.

He had the grace to look ashamed. "It was." Then he added before she could get out the remark she was getting ready to say.
"At least partly.
Little Bit, you know I enjoy being with you."

"When I am not preaching to you, don't you mean?" she teased.

"That too.
But you were right to be angry last night. I shouldn't have brought anyone here without your permission." His face was more serious than she had ever seen it. For the first time Elizabeth began to realize that her little brother, six feet and more of him, was a man.

"Maybe.
But I was wrong, too. Charles, this property does belong to you. You have the right to visit it anytime you like," she said quietly. How could she have missed seeing that he was no longer the little boy she had teased and protected?

"But no right to treat it as I have."
Too restless to stay seated, Charles began to walk around the room. "I talked to
Carstairs
this morning. The fields are being repaired, and I arranged to pay some compensation to the farmers as well as paying for the new seed." He paused and looked at her. She smiled back. He walked slowly around the room as if the movement made it easier for him to speak. "Elizabeth, I am sorry about Susan. But she was no innocent. After she could not attach Dunstan or me, she made a go for Hartley. We had bets on who would be next."

"Never dreaming your 'friend' would take advantage of her, of course." Elizabeth twisted around on the settee until she could look at him again. Her face was stern.

"Dash it, Elizabeth. If anyone was taken advantage of, it was Hartley." His sister raised her eyebrows and didn't say another word. Charles cleared his throat. He needed to tell her about Hartley's still being there. But before he could get the words out, the butler opened the door.

"Lord Dunstan is leaving at this time. He wishes to convey his thanks."

"I'll see him off and be back," Charles said, grateful for the reprieve. He hurried into the entry hall, where Dunstan waited, caped, ready to go.

"Thanks for the fishing,
Beckworth
. I enjoyed the visit. You must let me return the hospitality soon," Dunstan said quietly. He glanced around as if expecting someone else to appear. "Tell your sister that I hope to meet her again soon." Charles's eyebrows went up so that Dunstan hurried on. "We met briefly yesterday afternoon."

The door to the library clicked shut. "I'll see you in London," Charles said quietly as he walked Dunstan to the door. So Dunstan knew Elizabeth. Had that been the cause of this morning's distress? Although his farewells seemed sincere, Charles's mind was far away. At that moment he wished his mother, as meddling as she had been lately, were close at hand.

As Dunstan galloped down the long drive, he frowned. As much as he had been regretting his presence at the manor the day before, he now regretted leaving. "Blast. Why wouldn't she listen to me?" he yelled, spurring his horse. The cows in the home meadows turned their heads curiously and then went back to their grass. Dunstan galloped for a few minutes, letting his horse's speed blow his anger away. When he could think more clearly, he smiled, remembering the assignment that had brought him there in the first place. "If there was a message here this month, might there be another next?" he wondered.