The Portrait (20 page)

"I will not qualify your remarks with an answer," replied
Jennifer, quickening her step. "You obviously know so little of the situation that you rely on the scandalmongers for information. It's not at all what you think!"

"Are you so sure of that, my dear?" He sneered. "It does
not take a great brain to see what my lord is at. Lady Stratton
must be at her most vulnerable at the moment, and he turns it
to his benefit. She is, as you have already observed, extremely
beautiful. Sinclair would be a fool not to take advantage of the
situation."

"Then a fool he undoubtedly is, for I don't believe him capable of such cavalier intentions."

"Why, 'tis you who are the fool, my dear Jenny," he
scoffed. "Sinclair's no saint. He would act as any other man in
the situation."

Jennifer halted and stood before him, studying his face with
a slight frown clouding her brow. "Over the past few weeks I
have oft thought how stupid you can be, Phillip," she said
thoughtfully, "but never so much as now. You should not use
your own moral code as a yardstick against which to judge
others' principles."

Rutledge's countenance darkened with anger. Bowing
briefly and uttering no word of farewell, he strode away, leaving Jennifer to watch his disappearing figure with some feeling of satisfaction.

Aware that she must now make her way home alone, she
struck out determinedly, acknowledging acquaintances as she
went but never stopping, realizing it must appear strange that
she should be unaccompanied. Once having left the confines
of the gardens, however, she found that her feet took her in the
opposite direction than one would have supposed if she had
desired to return to her home, and after a short while she
found herself entering Edgemont Square.

It was a pleasant part of town, the houses offering gracious
living on three floors. As she crossed the square, she was
obliged to hold back to allow a horse and rider to pass, and it
was with some astonishment that she recognized Sinclair. He,
however, was oblivious to her presence and instead rode to a house at the far side of the square. Dismounting, he gave his
horse into the care of a young boy and, tossing him a coin, instructed him to await his return.

She watched, fascinated, as he mounted the steps to the
house, seeing the door opened as if his arrival had been anticipated. He entered unchallenged, as though he was a familiar
visitor-indeed, one who had the right to be there.

Even after he'd disappeared inside and the door had been
closed against curious eyes, she stood as if mesmerized, as if
the power of movement had been denied her. Thoughts came,
which she hastily put aside. Memories of Rutledge's words
rose to torment her, and she leaned against the boundary wall
of an adjoining property for support.

She wasn't sure how long she stood there, but eventually the
earl emerged once more from the house, and she was aware
that a shadowy figure stood at one of the windows, fluttering a
hand in farewell. Bowing briefly in reply, Sinclair retrieved
his horse from the boy and, mounting, rode in the opposite direction.

His leaving acted as a release, and she moved away, forsaking the square and making her way homeward.

"Pray tell me, dear sister, just how many suitors do you
think you will find it necessary to reject before you finally decide to marry?" snapped Hawley to Jennifer over supper that
evening. "Rutledge has stated his intention of returning to
Buxton on the morrow if he does not hear anything to the contrary from me this evening."

She regarded him mulishly and replied, "He may return to
Buxton or anywhere else he has a mind to."

"I thought you had a fondness for him. Why now this indifference?"

"Any fondness I ever had for him was purely as a friend and
was soon put to flight when we became reacquainted. He's not
at all the man I remember from our earlier years. Indeed, he
has changed beyond recognition."

"'Tis you who have changed, Jennifer, ever since this
damned betrothal to Sinclair, and even that you saw fit to end.
I am completely at a loss as to know what ails you"

"Nothing ails me, Arthur. I just have no desire to be married."

"You would remain a spinster?" he asked incredulously.

"Most certainly. If it's your fear that I will prevent your
marriage, then Freddie and I will set up our own establishment. We will deal perfectly well together."

"Think of what society would say," scoffed Hawley.

"Then I will inform them that I was not welcome in my
own home and found it necessary to leave."

"You wouldn't dare!"

"I most certainly would; though why I should have such a
desire to remain here when you make my situation untenable,
I know not. Perhaps I would fare much better on my own"

"Must we continually wrangle over the situation?" he
replied, throwing his napkin onto the table. "I am thoroughly
out of patience with you. Once you are of age, you may set up
an establishment with Freddie. I will not stand in your way.
Until then, however, you will live by my dictates."

"Which are?"

"I am well aware I can't force you into marriage, but I do
believe I am within my rights to most forcefully recommend
that you consider it."

"And the alternative is ... T'

"Enough!" he cried, rising. "I will not have you dictate to me
in this fashion, but beware my antipathy. You will not always
find me so generous. You will not think yourself so fortunate
when I find it necessary to shorten your purse strings. Remember, I have their control until you are one and twenty."

"That, for your control," she said, snapping her fingers. "I
remain `under your control' for less than fifteen months"

"No matter for what length of time, it will seem an eternity,
my dear," he scoffed, leaving the room.

Sitting alone at the dining table, Jennifer's thoughts, as they
had so many times since her return earlier in the day, turned once more to her visit to Edgemont Square. Sinclair had appeared so much at ease when he visited the house and, from
his reception, appeared a regular visitor. She attempted to analyze her feelings, should he form a lasting attachment to the
owner of the house, but the thought was too painful to contemplate. She realized now that, although she was not prepared to
admit it, her affections had been engaged upon Sinclair's return from Spain, and she called to mind with great fondness
their journey to Derbyshire. She dwelt on their conversations
and the little attentions he had bestowed upon her. She felt a
sense of security in his presence and knew she could never
feel as comfortable with anyone else.

She sat thus employed until a butler gave a gentle cough behind her chair to remind her of his presence and the necessity
to clear the table after the evening meal. Rising, she cast him
a small, apologetic smile and retired to her apartment, not to
seek repose, but to sit dejectedly in her sitting room while the
embers died in the hearth.

If she could have, she would have retracted her refusal of
Sinclair's offer, but it had not been possible. Since the existence of a portrait, which he continually carried with him, had
become known, she feared the offer would never be repeated.
Indeed, with the appearance of Lady Stratton, all hopes had
died. But the calling to mind of what might have been still
proved too painful to bear.

I swear there are signs of a match there," declared Mrs.
Fitzroy, when Flora paid her promised visit a few days later.
"At first I thought he still held hopes of Jennifer, but I appear
quite wrong"

"There are no signs whatsoever of a match," scoffed Flora.
"Indeed, Lady Stratton is still in mourning, so it is unkind of
you to even suggest such a thing."

"Ah, but she will not be in mourning forever, my dear, and
it's seen that he wastes no opportunity to accompany her. It's
rumored that he settles her debts. Now tell me, why should he,
if he holds no hopes of marriage?"

"It was a promise he made to her late husband when it
was known that the poor man would not survive. There had
evolved a great friendship between them during Wellington's
campaigns, and Edward feels it to be his responsibility that
she is well cared for. He could do naught else in the situation."

"You may say what you like, my dear, but I vow, there still
appears something between them. One has only to see them
together."

"Then I swear you know not what you see," snapped Flora,
her patience sorely tried. "My dear Edward has more sensibility than to press his suit at such a time. Indeed, I believe his
affections to be engaged elsewhere."

"You don't mean ... ?"

"You may put what interpretation you wish on my words,
for I know that you will, no matter what I say, but I deem he
deserves whatever happiness he can grasp"

"But of course, my dear," replied Mrs. Fitzroy enthusiastically. "I agree wholeheartedly with you. Nothing would please
me more than to see him happily settled."

The object of their conversation was at that moment taking
afternoon tea with Estelle in Edgemont Square after a fraught
day dealing with his man of business, who had just left.

"I believe today's dealings bring to a close all claims on
James' estate," said the earl. "There remains but matters of little
consequence to bring about a full conclusion of his affairs.
You should now be able to return to some form of normality."

"I'm relieved to hear you say so," said Estelle earnestly. "I
can't continue to trespass on your good nature, Edward. No
matter what promises were extracted, you have your own life
to lead, and I cannot become your pensioner. I must find some
way of generating an income and supporting myself."

"And exactly what do you propose, my dear?" replied the
earl, laying aside his cup and sitting forward in his seat. "Just
how do you envisage bringing about this income, for I assure
you, it's not at all necessary. If you would prefer, I will settle
an amount upon which you may draw whenever necessary,
and when that expires, you need only apply for more. If you
find it distasteful to deal with me directly, you may make your
application through my solicitor. Would that suit you better?"

She came quickly to her feet. "Now I've offended you," she
cried, contrition sounding in her voice. "My dear Edward, it
was not my intention-truly it was not."

He, too, rose and, crossing the distance between them, laid
a comforting arm about her shoulders. "It has been a difficult day, my dear," he said quietly. "I welcome your dependency.
It allows me to repay the many kindnesses you've done me.
Indeed, whatever service I've rendered is no more than my
conscience would allow, and it's my most fervent wish that
you become reconciled to it. How else am Ito prove my gratitude?"

At that moment they became aware of a commotion in the
hallway and turned toward the door as it was opened abruptly.

The footman announced Randall, who entered the room
with quickened step, his countenance extremely solemn.

"What's to do now?" asked the earl sharply. "What's so urgent that you need seek me out?"

"'Tis a matter regarding Master Peregrine, my lord,"
replied Randall, halting as he became aware of Estelle. "It
would perhaps be more prudent if I spoke to you alone, sir."

"He's injured?" asked Sinclair sharply.

"Not in the least sir. It's an entirely different matter."

The earl appeared relieved and sank once more into his chair
and grimaced ruefully. "No matter what the young numbskull
has been at now, you may speak quite freely. Nothing he does
will surprise me. He seems determined to run the full gamut of
foolish deeds, so speak up. I am prepared for the worst"

"He's been sent down, sir."

"Again!" groaned Sinclair. "Will the boy never learn? What
fool-brained scheme has he been at now? I'll wager its naught
but a prank."

Randall stood very erect before his employer. "He's accused of theft, sir, and has been sent down pending investigation, with the threat of expulsion."

"What?" the earl expostulated, coming erect from his seat.
"There's not a more honest soul on God's earth than Perry. I
swear he's no thief. What's he supposed to have stolen? Who
accuses him?"

"A fellow pupil," said Randall, proceeding with caution,
not wishing to enrage his employer. "The boy says Master
Peregrine stole a valuable saber his father brought back from
the campaigns."

"What use would Perry have for a saber?" scoffed Sinclair.
"Indeed, if he's in need of such a weapon, he could willingly
have mine."

"The young master is quite distraught, and Croft came to
me saying I should fetch you, sir. He's at a loss as to what to
do with him."

"I will come immediately. These accusations must be redressed. The boy must be at his wit's end."

Estelle came forward, clutching at the earl's sleeve. "If I
may offer my support," she said quietly. "If you will allow,
Edward, I will come with you"