The Portrait (7 page)

"Edward, if you intend to find fault with me, I will have
none of you," she said, feigning hauteur and taking the reins
in both hands as if to move off.

Bowing slightly, the earl mastered his amusement. "Not at
all, Jenny. I wholeheartedly approve of your spirit of adventure"

She looked a challenge at him. "Then will you prove your
approbation by sitting up with me? I am headed for the park.
That is, if you will trust me to drive you"

He grinned openly. "From what I've heard of your skill with
the ribbons, I certainly need have no fear of sitting up with
you. But do you think it wise that I accompany you and feed
the gossips?"

"If it is your fear that we feed the gossips, then no more need
be said," she said, nodding to the groom to resume his seat as
she prepared to move forward.

"Nothing of the sort" The earl grinned, stepping nimbly up
to sit beside her. "If you can brave the stares we will inevitably create, then so can I"

"It's uncommon to find you on foot at this time of day," she
commented as they drove in the direction of Hyde Park. "Were
you on some errand? What was it that you hid so quickly in
your pocket? A billet-doux from a sweetheart?"

"Certainly not," he answered with amusement. "I have to
admit, 'tis naught but a trifle."

"May I see this trifle?" she asked, curious.

"I assure you, 'tis nothing that would interest you. I but collected a miniature I had had refrained," he explained. "The
original was accidentally scorched by a candle."

"Who is it a portrait of?" she asked, not daring to take her
eyes off the road in the press of vehicles that milled in the busy
London streets.

"My grandsire," he replied with aplomb.

"Oh," she replied, losing all interest in the subject.

Their drive around the park was punctuated by many curious
stares, some pedestrians actually standing agape as Jennifer
drove the grays at a spanking trot around the park's perimeter.
One hopeful even stated to his companions, "Mark my words,
they'll make a match of it yet. I'll lay you a monkey on it."

However, if he'd been aware of the turn of conversation taking place in the phaeton, he would have been less than sure.

"Has Melville made you an offer of marriage yet?" asked the
earl, watching from beneath lowered eyebrows for her reaction.

"Good heavens, no," replied Jenny with some surprise. "Indeed he has not. Whatever made you suppose such a thing?"

"He will. You mark my words...."

"Then I will leave him in no uncertainty of my feelings on
the matter."

"Which are?"

"You are insufferable, Edward. I've no desire whatsoever to
marry Melville!"

He chuckled. "Not even when he pays you such marked attention?"

"Most certainly not"

"Ah, then his heart will be broken!"

"His purse, more likely. I am well aware that my fortune is
where my attraction lies."

He looked at her sharply. "I hope you will not judge everyone by that standard, my dear."

"I've had no reason to revise my judgment," she answered
sharply, and, turning the vehicle, she headed out of the park.

A few days later Lady Flora found it necessary to take her
brother to task as they sat over supper at Sinclair House, the
earl's London residence.

"I've been out of town but a week, Edward," she said curtly,
.,and the first thing I hear on my return is that you've been
seen driving with Jennifer. In the park, if you please. I don't
know what ails the pair of you. First there was the betrothal, then the rejection, and now you seem forever in each other's
pocket. Exactly what is afoot?"

"I don't know your meaning," he replied, confining his attention to refilling his glass. "Are we not now allowed to continue
as friends? Must something be read into our every movement?"

"When you feed the gossipmongers, what else do you expect? She has a fortune almost to compare with your own,
which she inherited from her mother's side of the family. In
common with any other heiress, her actions must cause comment. Surely you must see that you will be observed" Fearing
that her words made no impression on her brother, Flora redoubled her efforts. "Do you think you can play fast and loose
with each other without raising interest? I am quite out of patience with both of you"

"Then you need not be. If you think I draw too much attention to us, I will attempt to avoid her company. I would not
wish it to be thought that I prevent eligible suitors from presenting themselves."

"That's not at all what I meant, and you know it," said Flora
contritely, "but I would ask if you have an interest in the child.
Do you regret the break? Is there hope of a reconciliation?"

"No, there is not," he replied tersely, pushing his chair from
the table and rising. "Must I keep repeating to you that I will
never marry?"

"Then, Edward, you are a bigger fool than I gave you credit
for. Surely you do not intend to remain unwed. If nothing else,
think of the title!"

"Perry shall remain my heir, and he need have no reservations about marrying. Have no fear, the title will not die out.
Does that satisfy you?"

Flora visibly blanched at this onslaught. "That's not at all
what I meant... " But whatever else she would have said was
lost as Sinclair strode from the room, leaving her to continue
her meal alone.

When next the much-observed couple met, it was at a musical evening arranged by Lord and Lady Clay at their elegant town house. A quintet and a fashionable songstress had been
hired for the occasion, and the stylish rooms were ablaze with
light and filled with the cream of London society.

It was only at Flora's instigation that Sinclair accepted the
invitation to the event. He bore no great liking for such entertainment, finding the music thought suitable on such occasions not at all to his taste.

However, arriving just as the quintet began their recital,
he was obliged to sit well to the rear of the room and was
therefore able to observe Jennifer for quite some time before she became aware of his presence during the supper interval.

Mindful of his sister's words, he did not immediately seek
her out. Instead, he merely nodded briefly in her direction
when she became aware of his presence.

Jennifer was accompanied by Lord Melville, and when she
caught the earl's eye, she cast him a meaningful look. If in
that moment she appeared merrier and more pleased with her
escort than she had for the previous part of the evening, who
was to censure her? Certainly not Melville! He found her
change in mood most encouraging.

Seeing that Sinclair had no intention of approaching her,
Jenny became more determined to show her indifference to
his actions, while the whole room waited with bated breath for
the couple's response to the encounter.

However, society was doomed to disappointment. If they
were hoping to witness any dialogue between the pair, they
were sadly mistaken. Both appeared indifferent to the other's
actions.

Lady Clay was heard to comment on dear Jennifer's vivacity,
but, apart from that, there was no further cause for comment.
When, at the end of the evening, the two guests left without as
much as a glance in the other's direction, none could fault their
conduct.

Returning to his lodgings some while later, Lord Melville
congratulated himself on the outcome of the evening, believing that at last he appeared to be making some progress with the
young heiress.

Jennifer, however, viewed the event quite differently. Sitting before her dressing-table mirror, she dismissed her maid.
"Insufferable man," she declared to the pale little face that
looked back at her. "I care not if I should never see him
again." And who knew whether she spoke of Melville or Sinclair, for even she did not!

The earl also repaired to his apartment at Fly Hall in no
even frame of mind, but when he opened the drawer to his
dresser and saw the portrait gazing back at him from its new
frame, his expression softened, and all irritation left him.

As the season advanced, society ceased to be forever expectant of a reconciliation between Sinclair and Lady Jennifer. Some young bucks were even prepared to speculate as
to which of their numbers would succeed in securing the lady's
hand. It was noticeable, however, that she treated them all
with the same open friendliness, showing no partiality whatsoever to any one of them.

The Earl of Hawley had been obliged to reject no fewer than
four applications for her hand and was becoming increasingly
incensed with her blank refusal to even contemplate matrimony, believing her stubbornness to be nothing more than an
attempt to thwart his own plans to enter the married state. So
uncomfortable became the atmosphere when they met in the
dining room that Jennifer attempted to avoid the encounters,
preferring to eat in her apartment on the rare occasion when
Hawley dined at home.

To Flora's annoyance, Sinclair appeared to be losing interest in society, finding it necessary to refuse what she thought
of as perfectly suitable invitations-invitations that at any
other time he would delight in accepting-preferring instead
to remain at Sinclair House or to visit one or two of the select
clubs to which he belonged.

Although she made known her disapproval, she could not
help but feel for her brother. Nevertheless, when an invitation
came from Major Drake to join him and fellow officers for a
reunion supper in Richmond, she found he needed no encouragement to accept. He set forth with some enthusiasm, evidently eager, after so lengthy a break, to meet with the other
officers of his regiment on the rare occasion of their being
granted furlough.

The evening had advanced into the small hours of the morning when finally Edward's coach returned home. The slight
rolling of his gait proclaimed his inebriation as, entering the hallway, he presented the attending footman with his hat and
cane.

"There's a young gentleman waiting for you in the library,
my lord," confided the footman. "He arrived about midnight."

"My brother?" asked the earl, a bemused frown clouding
his brow.

"No, sir. He gave his name as the Honorable Frederick
Lynton. I told him you were not at home, but he insisted that
he wait for you"

"What now?" groaned the earl, feeling in that moment unequal to the task of entering into a conversation that would tax
his ingenuity. It was with some effort that he turned toward
the library when he so much would have preferred to retire to
his bed.

The candles had burned low in the sconces, casting the
room deeply into shadow. When the earl entered, he was surprised to see the youth lying with his head on his arms at the
desk, obviously asleep. As he approached, Freddie mumbled
inaudibly and moved his head slightly so that one arm hid his
face. Sinclair halted his progress. There was something not
quite right about the form before him. It had the same dark,
curly hair, but there was something about the set of the shoulders.... They were far too slim. Indeed, the whole upper part
of the body appeared too slight.

Confused, he sat heavily in the leather chair set before the
desk and attempted to force his eyes to focus on the boy before him. He cursed the fact that he'd drunk so much wine and
shook his head as if to rid himself of its effects, but the figure
remained the same. There was definitely something odd about
the boy.

Due to the lateness of the hour and his intoxicated state, as
he relaxed in the chair, his head drooped forward, and he, too,
drifted into sleep. However, after only a few moments, an insistent hand shaking his shoulder woke him, and with a great
effort he fought his way back to consciousness.

"Edward, do wake up," commanded an urgent voice. "I
have need of you! Wake up!"

"Jen?" he expostulated in a bewildered tone, attempting to
focus on the face above him.

"You're drunk!" she accused with disgust.

"No, I'm not foxed," he corrected, straightening in his seat.
"Just slightly bosky."

"You are decidedly drunk. I can't believe you would choose
this of all nights."

"My profound apologies," he said, gripping her shoulder
and rising unsteadily to his feet. "Bad form to be bamboozled
in front of a lady." His eyes narrowed as he took stock of the
figure before him. "What's happened to your hair, Jen, and
why are you wearing boy's clothes? Though I must say, they
suit you admirably." Then, almost as an afterthought, he
asked, "Are they Freddie's?"

"Yes, but never mind that," she said impatiently, pushing
him back into his seat. "Do try to understand that I need you"

"At your service," he said, once more standing erect and
bowing. "I'm not so bosky as to render me useless, but I feel I
must point out to you, my dear, that I am not at my best, and
this situation is highly irregular." A frown puckered his brow
as he looked questioningly about the room. "Does your maid
accompany you? I don't see her, and surely you must realize
that to be visiting a bachelor's establishment at this time of
night, and without even your maid, is not at all the thing."