The Portrait (19 page)

It took all of Jennifer's concentration to guide her horses
through the ever-moving press in Regent Street. Sitting beside
her, Phillip Rutledge appeared ill at ease and shuffled continuously in his seat.

"You should let me take the ribbons," he said reprovingly.

"Are you suggesting I'm not able to tool my own team?"
she replied with some asperity. "For I tell you, I'm equally as
capable as you."

"It's not your ability I doubt but your strength, my dear."

She cast him a disparaging look. "You need have no fears
on that matter. It's by skill that I control my horses, not force.
If you would but have more faith in me, you will see there is
no need for your concerns."

As a landau bearing a well-known coat of arms crossed her
path, she brought the equipage to an abrupt halt, almost unseating her passenger and causing him to utter a sharp oath.
"What the deuce?" he snapped, frowning heavily and attempting to see the occupants of the coach that had so unexpectedly
halted them, but the only view he had was of the back of their
heads.

"'Twas Edward," she replied, appearing taken aback.

"And who is his companion?" Rutledge craned his neck,
but already the carriage was out of sight.

"I've no idea. She wears widow's weeds. Even so ... she is
very beautiful."

"Then you need have no further concerns for him," scoffed
Rutledge. "It appears the man may all but be killed, but still he
survives and obviously finds consolation elsewhere."

"Get down," ordered Jennifer. "You may return on foot. I
will no longer tolerate your remarks"

"As you will, my dear," replied Rutledge mockingly. "The
day has proved pleasanter than I would have supposed. Forswear, I couldn't have wished for a better outcome" Springing lightly into the road, he made a courtly bow. "Perhaps
now you will come to accept the inevitable. I call for you at
eight."

Setting her pair once more into motion, Jennifer left her
would-be suitor to return alone. The sight of Sinclair driving
with an unfamiliar female at his side had affected her more
deeply than she was prepared to admit, and she mentally took
herself to task. She had been returned to town but three days
and during that time had continually looked for his presence.
Reason told her that he was perfectly at liberty to driveindeed, accompany-anyone he had a mind to. She had no
claims upon his attentions. But that did not lessen the hurt she felt, and the thought crossed her mind, Could this be the beaul
in the portrait?

The fleeting encounter had not gone unnoticed by the earl,
and he was fully aware of who sat at Jennifer's side. However,
his attention was claimed by his companion, who was constantly in need of reassurance that it was perfectly acceptable
to be seen driving out while in deepest mourning.

"I would not have asked you to accompany me on a visit to
the solicitors," said Estelle, full of concern, "but they confuse
me, and I need a brain sharper than mine to deal with them"

"They should have waited on you in Edgemont Square," reproved the earl, "not have you driving halfway across London. They will not do so again. I will make sure of it."

"They see me as a lone female who has debts and feel that
they are at liberty to treat me as they will."

"Then this will be the end of it. My man will deal with
whatever arrangements are necessary in the future. You will
not be called upon for a second time in this manner. I shall
make certain of it. Once they see that you have support, you
will not be put upon again, I assure you"

"When I am able, I will ensure you are repaid every penny,
Edward. I will not have you owed such vast amounts on my
behalf."

"You may have no fear," he said, patting her hand. "The
amounts are not as vast as they would have you believe. I will
not even notice their paying."

"But ..." she interrupted, but he raised a finger to his lips.

"Say no more, my dear. I will not have it otherwise."

Settling back into her seat, she heaved a deep sigh. "Dear
Edward, you don't know what a vast relief it is to have this
burden taken from my shoulders."

Almack's Assembly Rooms in King Street, St. James',
opened its doors to patrons every Wednesday evening throughout the London season. Subscribers to the exclusive club were
expected to conform to its very strict rules in fear of being blackballed. Patrons were offered supper and gaming, with
dancing lasting the night. However, once eleven o'clock was
achieved, anyone not within its portals was doomed for disappointment, as it was then that the doors were locked and further admissions refused. Only one member of the committee
acted as Patroness at any given time, the post being filled on a
rota basis.

This was the penultimate event of the season, and on this
particular evening Mrs. Fitzroy held the office. From her vantage point at the head of the ballroom she watched with some
interest the arrival of the Earl of Hawley, his betrothed, and
his reputedly wayward sister. Firm in her belief that there was
no smoke without fire, she admitted to a vast degree of curiosity on the subject of Lady Jennifer's disappearance. With this
firmly in mind, she decided to engage her in conversation as
soon as it was practicable. She would not allow her curiosity
to go unsated.

The opportunity came as the party made their way into supper during an interval in the dancing. Making her way purposefully through the press of the supper room, she approached
Jennifer when she sat alone at the table.

"My dear Lady Jennifer, you must allow me to tell you how
delighted I am that you are returned safely from your journey," she said, smiling and taking the seat at her side.

Feigning surprise, Jenny raised her eyebrows, replying,
"What journey is this? I but visited Lady Flora Carlton and her
family in Essex. It was not, after all, such a hazardous venture"

"Ah, yes, I forget, that is the explanation Hawley gave for
your absence. Though, to be honest, I thought it had more interesting origins."

"Then I'm sorry to disappoint you, madam. His explanation was quite correct. It was no more `interesting' than a visit
to a friend."

Jennifer would have risen, but Mrs. Fitzroy laid a detaining
hand on her arm and, as if noticing it for the first time, exclaimed, "Why, your hair, my dear-what new style is this? The fashion is for short, but this is positively ... well ... one
could almost say ... boyish."

Before Jennifer could give an answer, a well-known voice
issued from behind her.

"My dear Mrs. Fitzroy, you must allow me to comment on
the subject," said Sinclair, smiling and coming to stand immediately behind Jennifer's chair. She turned quickly to look up
at him, but, completely ignoring her look, he continued. "It is
the new Grecian style being worn by all the ladies of fashion
on the Continent, as my sister would eagerly attest. If I may
offer my opinion as a mere male, I find it a most charming
creation, do not you?"

Mrs. Fitzroy rose from her seat, feeling unequal to such opposition, and her smile wavered as she said, "My Lord, I was
not aware that you graced us with your presence this evening.
You are so rarely seen within these portals."

"I arrived just as the door was about to be locked," Sinclair
informed her. "I gained admission by a mere five minutes.
Come now, give us the benefit of your impeccable judgment,
which I know is always to be relied upon!"

"Then I must agree with you, my lord-it is indeed a most
modish creation. One that will undoubtedly take society by
storm." Then, turning to Jennifer, she smiled most graciously.
"I wondered at first at your daring, my dear, but now I see it at
close quarters, there is no doubt it will become the rage in
fashionable circles. Indeed, if I were but ten years younger, I
would be sorely tempted to emulate the style myself."

"It would suit you most admirably." The earl smiled, bowing briefly. Taking Jennifer's elbow in a firm grip, he raised
her from her chair. "I'm sure you will excuse us, Mrs. Fitzroy.
My sister has charged me with the task of taking Lady Jennifer to her in the ballroom, and if I fail, she will be most displeased. Flora is not one to be kept waiting."

"Dear Lady Carlton. How does she fare?" asked Mrs.
Fitzroy, also rising and preparing to leave.

"Extremely well, and she promises herself the pleasure of
calling on you in the not too distant future, I believe."

"Then I shall live in anticipation of her visit," replied Mrs.
Fitzroy with a slight inclination of her head before smiling
briefly and turning to make her way toward the ballroom.

"What a complete hand you are at hamming, Ned" Jennifer
chuckled, resuming her seat. "I wouldn't have suspected you
to be so adept at such creativity."

"If I am, then you must lay its origins at your own door,"
replied the earl, an irrepressible gleam in his eye. "It is perhaps our close association over the past few weeks and your
own talent for improvisation that have been my inspiration.
You, my girl, are incorrigible."

"Wretch!" she cried, laughter lighting her eyes. "You need
no tutoring from me. You are a complete hand at it, and I will
not take the blame."

"Then shall we both confess to having a fertile imagination, Jen?"

"Most certainly, sir, but such confessions can only serve to
apportion blame."

"Touche, my dear," he replied, laughing outright. "But now
you must allow me to take you to Flora. She is indeed waiting
in the ballroom and is all eagerness to see you"

The discord of their last meeting seemed to have disappeared, both parties preferring to forget its existence, neither
having the desire to call to mind their brief encounter but two
days earlier in Regent Street. Laying her hand on the earl's
arm, Jennifer allowed him to take her in search of Flora. However, once the earl had placed Jennifer at his sister's side and
retreated toward the card room, Jennifer felt compelled to
mention the encounter to Flora.

"Lady Estelle Stratton is indeed very beautiful," agreed Flora.
"I don't know the whole of it, for, as you know, Edward is reluctant to talk about his time in the campaigns, and I would not
wish to press him. However, this much I have gleaned from
talking to Estelle. You must know that she was extremely devoted to her dear late husband and still is. He, too, was one of
Marchant's officers, and he also was wounded at Salamanca,
but, unlike Edward, he did not survive his injuries."

Jenny uttered a sound of sympathy, but Flora continued.
"Estelle had traveled in the column with the other officers'
wives and therefore was able to be with him until the end. As
you know, Edward lay in the convent for quite some while before he returned to England, and during that time a close bond
was forged among the three of them. It was known that Lord
Stratton would not survive his injuries, and Edward vowed his
support when the inevitable should occur. When he returned
home, it was with the certain knowledge that his friend would
not survive above a few weeks. However, Stratton clung to life
until but a month ago"

"'Tis a very sad tale indeed," said Jenny quietly, "and one
can understand Lady Stratton's need for support."

"Edward can always be relied upon." Flora smiled. "Always knows what should be done"

"As I should know," replied Jennifer, studying her hands as
they rested in her lap.

Flora reached over and patted them. "There's no need to be
downcast, my dear," she assured her. "There is no attachment
there, merely fondness for a friend."

"I'm sure that whatever their relationship is, 'tis no concern
of mine," retorted Jenny, her cheeks coloring and her tone
somewhat sharper than she intended.

Lady Flora smiled to herself at this show of pique and prudently changed the subject to that of a more general run of
things.

Wishing not to draw attention to their acquaintance, the
earl did not return to stand at Jenny's side until the evening's
entertainment was nearing its conclusion. "Do you think we
might venture the next dance?" he asked soberly, extending
his hand and raising her from her chair.

The earl appeared unusually quiet as they waited for the sets
to form. "Rutledge does not accompany you this evening?" he
eventually queried.

Jennifer looked at him sharply. "Why should he? I need not
be forever in his pocket"

"That's not what Hawley tells me," replied Sinclair. "I've
just been speaking with him, and he informs me that Rutledge
has asked for and been granted permission to pay his addresses to you"

"That is news to me," stated Jenny incredulously. "Since
Ravensby, he has not approached me on the subject"

"And when he does?"

"Only then will I feel the need to consider it," she replied,
annoyance rising at his words.

The music began, and they were forced apart by the movement of the dance, finding it impossible to continue the conversation until the orchestra ceased and they left the floor. By
this time a feeling of indignation had arisen in Jennifer's breast,
and she felt not inclined to continue the conversation, reasoning that whatever she chose to do with her future was no concern of Sinclair's. He had other objectives to consider.

As he handed her to her seat, he bowed stiffly, his countenance remaining impassive, saying, "I offer my felicitations and
wish you well, Jenny-whatever course you choose to take"

"And I you," she replied with equal indifference, drawing
her hand disdainfully from his clasp.

He bowed once more. Then, turning on his heel, he was
gone.

Flora, witnessing the whole, heaved a sigh of frustration
and was heard to mutter something unintelligible beneath her
breath, but her meaning was obvious.

Defiantly, Jennifer turned away saying, "I must go in search
of Arthur. Surely it is time to leave."

"Forswear, 'tis the talk of society," Rutledge informed Jennifer as they walked in Kensington Gardens a few days later.
"It appears that the `unfortunate' widow most certainly enjoys
Sinclair's protection. He's forever dancing attention on her,
and if Danson is to be believed, he pays her debts. Now tell
me their association is above suspicion!"