Today was Livy’s turn. They’d had a lovely ride thus far and Dulcie was grateful her sister had not brought up her refusal of Preston’s proposal last night. With any luck, that subject would not rear its head.
“We think you did the right thing,” Livy said abruptly.
But it was really too much to hope for.
Dulcie glanced at Livy. “We?”
“Rose, Cora and I.”
“Really?” Dulcie stared at her sister in surprise. She couldn’t recall her sisters ever taking her side in a dispute with Mother. “I thought you were all in support of this match.”
“I suppose we were initially. Mr. Drummond did seem to be quite suitable. But the more we were around him...”
“Go on.”
“Goodness, Dulcie, he’s a dreadful bore and horribly arrogant and well...” Livy wrinkled her nose. “We are all glad you turned him down.”
“Mother obviously disagrees.” Mother had had a great deal to say after Preston had taken his leave and Dulcie suspected that would not be the end of it.
“Mother thinks no woman can be happy unless she is married and settled into a life of domesticity.” Livy shook her head. “Rose, Cora and I believe it’s better not to be married at all rather than married to the wrong man. And we are convinced Mr. Drummond was wrong in so many ways.”
Dulcie grinned. “I had come to same conclusion myself.”
“Which is not to say that we don’t think you should be married. We do. It simply means finding the right man.”
It was on the tip of Dulcie’s tongue to say she might well have found the right man, even if he didn’t seem to feel the same.
“And we are going to do all that we can to find him for you. Not that you make it easy.”
Dulcie laughed. “Where would be the challenge in that?”
“This isn’t amusing,” Livy said, but the corners of her lips quirked upward.
“Come now, you think it’s a little amusing.”
“Admittedly the indignant look on Mr. Drummond’s face as he left last night was rather comical. Good Lord, the man has an exaggerated sense of his own worth.” Livy chuckled then sighed. “And while I do think you had a narrow escape, none of us want you to become a spinster aunt living—”
“Good day, Miss Middleworth.” A horse pulled up beside her.
Michael? “Good day, Mr. Shepard.” He was the last person Dulcie expected to see. “What a lovely surprise. I didn’t know you rode.”
“There’s nothing like a good brisk ride to start the day.” He glanced at Livy. “My apologies. I did not mean to interrupt.”
“Not at all.” Livy waved off his comment. “We weren’t discussing anything of particular significance.”
“Allow me to introduce my sister, Lady Carswell. Livy, this is Mr. Shepard.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Lady Carswell.”
“Lovely weather we’re having,” Livy said with a pleasant smile.
Dulcie might have been mistaken, but it did look like a hint of amusement flashed through his eyes. Good Lord. He must think she came from a family of blithering idiots who could think of nothing clever to say and could only discuss the weather. “It does look an excellent day ahead.”
Dulcie bit back a groan.
“How are you acquainted with my sister, Mr. Shepard?” Livy asked lightly but there was a speculative gleam in her eye.
“We frequently find ourselves sharing the Explorers Club library. I’m sure you’re aware of Miss Middleworth’s work documenting with pen and paint the club’s various collections.”
“Indeed I am,” Livy said with pride. “She’s quite good, don’t you think?”
Dulcie stared. Here was yet another surprise in a morning that seemed to be filled with them. Her sisters had never given any indication that they considered her work more than a frivolous pastime.
“I do.” He nodded. “I have rarely seen illustrations that are both accurate and yet seem to capture the essence, the soul if you will, of whatever artifact the artist is attempting to portray.” He cast her an admiring smile. “It really is most impressive.”
“Thank you,” Dulcie said weakly. She had no idea he had ever looked at her work. She cleared her throat. “Mr. Shepard is preparing for an expedition he hopes to join next month.”
“Oh?” Livy’s brow rose.
“Reacquainting myself with the native flora and fauna to be found in the upper Amazon.” He adopted a vaguely professorial manner. It was most endearing. “I do feel if one is going to venture into an area that is very much unknown, one should learn as much as possible about what is known. It only makes sense to thoroughly prepare.”
“Yes, well, that does make sense.” Livy nodded and changed the subject. “I don’t believe I’ve noticed you here before, Mr. Shepard. Do you ride often?”
“I try to ride whenever I can but it’s often difficult to find the opportunity and I’m not overly fond of crowds.” He glanced around. “Now, however, does seem to be the perfect time of day.”
“Perhaps we will see you again then.” Livy smiled pleasantly. “One of my other sisters or myself usually joins Dulcie nearly every day.”
“I shall keep that in mind.” He turned to Dulcie. “Miss Middleworth, might I have a private word?” The tiniest furrow appeared between his brows. “I have a matter of some importance I wish to discuss with you.”
What on earth was this about? Given the man had never spoken more than a handful of words to her, he was already well over his limit.
“Yes, of course.” She glanced at Livy.
Her sister nodded. “Why don’t you both ride ahead and I’ll follow along behind you.”
Dulcie smiled in gratitude.
Livy held her horse back until Dulcie and Michael were a few yards in front of her. Dear Lord. Here was her opportunity to finally talk to him—at his request no less—and she could think of nothing to say. But then he’d had that effect on her from nearly the first moment they’d met. She drew a bracing breath and plunged ahead.
“A matter of some importance, Mr. Shepard?”
“I feel in the last few months, we have become, well, not exactly friends but companions in a manner of speaking.”
“We do share the library.”
“Exactly.” He nodded. “And I have come to respect your, well, your mind.”
“My mind?” She wasn’t sure a man had ever complimented her mind before although several had said her eyes were quite lovely.
“Yes, well, do forgive me, but on occasion I can’t help overhearing your conversations with some of the other ladies. Much of what you discuss is mindless frivolity—”
So much for his admiration of her mind.
“But you frequently talk about matters I had no idea women ever spoke of.” He shook his head in obvious disbelief. “I’ve heard you and some of the Ladies Committee members discuss politics, the state of the world, various explorations and any number of other topics. I must say, it’s been quite a revelation.”
Dulcie wasn’t sure if she should be offended or amused. She chose amused. “You’re not used to being around women are you, Mr. Shepard?”
“Not really.” He shrugged. “My aunt Grace lived with us for much of her life but my mother died when I was quite young and I have no sisters.”
“My condolences. About your mother. And your aunt.” She smiled. “Although it is a shame not to have sisters, as well. I have three and they are as dear as they are annoying.”
“It might have better prepared me,” he said under his breath.
“To speak about this matter of some importance? My advice would be simply to boldly forge ahead.” Goodness, the man was willing to brave the unknown recesses of the Amazon jungle yet he couldn’t seem to say what he wanted to s
ay in the relative civilization of Hyde Park. One would think this matter of some importance...
The answer struck her and her heart skipped a beat. Was it possible that Michael had the same sort of feelings for her that she did for him? Was that what this was all about? Was he going to declare himself even though they’d scarcely ever spoken? Was their unspoken bond as significant to him as it was to her?
“This is rather awkward.”
Awkward? How very charming. She mustered an encouraging smile. “Do go on, Mr. Shepard.”
“I’m not sure how to begin.”
She leaned toward him. “I have always found a deep, bracing breath to be an excellent way to start any awkward discussion.”
“Very well.” He drew a deep breath. “For good or ill, you have not escaped my notice these past few months.”
“Nor have you escaped mine.” Her pulse raced.
“And while I realize we rarely speak of anything beyond the weather, I do feel we have forged a quiet sort of bond between us.”
“Go on.” Delightful anticipation shivered up her spine.
“An unspoken friendship if you will.”
She nodded.
“Which is the only reason why I feel it necessary to say something.”
Necessary? An odd choice of words.
“This is really none of my concern.”
Her smile slipped a bit.
“But I would be remiss if I did not urge you to thoroughly consider any decision you might make regarding Mr. Drummond.”
She stared. Surely he wasn’t suggesting she reconsider rejecting Preston’s proposal? And how could he possibly know about last night? “I beg your pardon.”
“My apologies.” He shook his head. “I’m not saying this well.”
“Exactly what are you trying to say, Mr. Shepard?” she said slowly.
“Miss Middleworth.” He drew another breath then met her gaze firmly. Behind his spectacle his eyes blazed with sincerity. “I think it would be a very great error on your part to marry Mr. Drummond.”
“You do?”
“Without question.” Michael nodded firmly. “A marriage to Mr. Drummond would not serve you well. From my observations the man is unprincipled, lacking in honor and concerned with nothing beyond his own well-being. Nor, I might add, does he hold his alcohol well. A man who cannot be trusted to hold his tongue after a few drinks of a good Scottish whiskey, is not a man one can trust with one’s future.”
Dulcie had no idea what to say.
“He has said on any number of inebriated occasions that he intends to marry you and, by doing so, elevate his position in society. He has mentioned, as well, your considerable dowry.” He paused. “Apparently Mr. Drummond’s finances are not as sound as they might appear. Furthermore, the man’s arrogance knows no bounds. He has also said that a marriage with you would allow him to become close to your father. Which would be of benefit to him in his ambitions regarding the Explorers Club, none of which, I might add, even remotely involve venturing beyond the boundaries of England. He has further declared his intention to one day serve as director of the club. I personally consider his membership in the Explorers Club to be a travesty.”
She stared.
“As I said, I am well aware that this is none of my concern but I did feel I would be derelict in my responsibility as a, well, a friend of sorts, if I did not make you aware of Mr. Drummond’s reprehensible nature. Although, on further consideration, as I do feel you are an intelligent woman, you are probably already cognizant of Mr. Drummond’s less than stellar character. However, that was not a chance I was willing to take.” He squared his shoulders. “You cannot marry Mr. Drummond, Miss Middleworth. It would be a grave mistake that would ruin your life and destroy any chance you might have for happiness. And I would hate to see that happen.” He nodded. “I shall leave you to your ride. Good day.” He reined his horse to the side and trotted toward the nearest gate.
Dulcie stared after him.
Livy pulled up beside her. “My, that was certainly interesting.”
“Did you hear what he said?”
“Most of it. Sound carries surprisingly well at this time of day.” She paused. “Why didn’t you tell him you have already turned down Mr. Drummond’s proposal?”
“I don’t know.”
“In fact.” Livy’s brows drew together. “You really didn’t say much of anything to him.”
“I never do.” Dulcie sighed. “When I’m anywhere near him I can’t seem to say a word. My mouth becomes dry and my tongue seems to swell. Words stick in my throat and I can’t manage a coherent sentence that doesn’t involve the weather.”
“That explains it then.”
“Explains what?”
“Why you didn’t put him in his place. I’ve never seen you let any man get the better of you in a conversation. And I never imagined you allowing a man, any man, to dictate to you in that manner. Why, he had the unmitigated nerve to tell you who you should or shouldn’t marry.”
“It was rather high-handed of him,” she said slowly.
“It was a lecture—that’s what it was. And he certainly had no right to say anything whatsoever. Did he?”
“No, he did not.” She glared at the retreating figure on horseback, indignation rising within her. Why, he was very nearly as presumptuous as Preston. “No right at all.”
“Although he did say you were friends.”
Dulcie scoffed. “We are barely more than acquaintances.”
“And he called Preston arrogant.”
“Preston’s arrogance pales in comparison.” Outrage swept through Dulcie, sweeping aside her initial shock at Michael’s unsolicited advice. “The audacity of the man to tell me what I should do with my life when he’s never done anything but comment on the blasted weather. And he has had every opportunity.”
“Perhaps he has the same sort of difficulty talking to you as you seem to have talking to him?” Livy suggested.
“He certainly had no particular problem speaking his mind today,” Dulcie said sharply.
“Well...” Livy stared thoughtfully in Michael’s direction. “Perhaps you should do something about it.”
“I assure you, Livy—” Dulcie narrowed her eyes and watched Michael fade from sight “—I intend to.”
CHAPTER SIX
WHAT IN THE name of all that was holy had he been thinking?
Oh, certainly his motives were noble enough, but in fact Michael had absolutely no right to give unsolicited advice of such a personal nature to a woman with whom he had barely ever spoken. It was presumptuous of him and arrogant and, without question, he would do it all again.
Dulcie Middleworth deserved better than Preston Drummond.
Michael had tried to bury himself in his research books and notations since his arrival at the library an hour or so ago but the effort was pointless. He could not get the possible consequences of his rash behavior out of his head.
It had only been a few hours since their early morning encounter and she had yet to make an appearance in the library. Highly unusual as she was frequently here before him or shortly thereafter. On one hand he was relieved, even if it only delayed the inevitable. On the other he couldn’t quite dismiss an overriding sense of curiosity. He had no idea what to expect. She had said nothing in the park in response to his comment but then he had quite cowardly taken his leave before she had the chance. And really he wasn’t sure she’d ever said anything to him at all that wasn’t about the weather but then he’d never really spoken to her either. Even so, there was some kind of something between them. He’d said they shared a sort of friendship, which was as good a way to describe it as any.
Still, regardless of what you called whatever this was, he had overstepped the bounds of acceptable behavior. Perha
ps she’d decided not to come today. Perhaps she’d never return at all. A chilling sense of loss squeezed his heart at the thought.
“Good morning, Mr. Shepard.” Mrs. Fitzhew-Wellmore’s voice rang out behind him and he rose to his feet and turned to greet her. “How are you on this beautiful spring day? Deep in the jungles of Brazil no doubt.”
“Good day, Mrs. Fitzhew-Wellmore. Indeed, I am,” he lied. It was impossible to concentrate on tropical flora when his thoughts kept drifting back to an English park.
“I believe you’ve met my friends, haven’t you?”
“I have.” He nodded. “Good day, Lady Blodgett, Mrs. Higginbotham. How lovely to see you all again.”
All three ladies were somewhere in their fifties and one could well imagine, in their youth, they each must have been quite striking.
“How very kind of you to say, Mr. Shepard.” Lady Blodgett smiled.
“Quite nice to see you again, Mr. Shepard,” Mrs. Higginbotham said. “Well, we hate to disturb you. Do carry on.” She nodded and started toward the far side of the room, near Dulcie’s work area.
“Mr. Shepard,” Lady Blodgett began. “My husband has quite an extensive collection of books and reference materials on the Amazon. Should you ever need something you cannot find here, you are welcome to peruse them.”
“Thank you, Lady Blodgett. That’s very kind of you to offer.”
“Not at all.” She smiled and followed her friend.
“We shall be in the stacks and the storage room beyond if you have need of us,” Mrs. Fitzhew-Wellmore said.
The shelf behind the table Dulcie usually occupied was not affixed to a wall and served to cut off a quarter of the library from the rest of the room. While all four walls were lined with shelves, at some point it was decided it was simply not enough. Now, the area behind the far shelf was filled with metal book stacks and beyond that was a former parlor, now used as a combination office, storage room and workroom. Nearly as large as the library, the room housed most of the club’s collections of antiquities as well as files, desks and worktables.
The Rise and Fall of Reginald Everheart Page 4
