Miss Armistead Makes Her Choice

by Heidi Ashworth

  They spoke very little as the room turned about them. Their eyes met frequently, whereupon they smiled at one another with no constraint, almost as if they had been acquainted the whole of their lives. She was aware that there were others in the room but, presently, her mother and aunt seemed to her as inanimate as the sofa upon which they sat and Miss Lloyd-Jones became one with the pianoforte. Even Katherine, who moved about the room so that her presence always came as a bit of a surprise, soon faded into the scenery. All of it seemed perfectly natural, none of it new or in the least startling, until the music came to an end and Elizabeth found that her cheek was indeed against his chest and his chin rested on her head, their joined hands no longer stretched out but folded in and resting against his heart.

  She came to herself as if from a dream and was appalled to find that, as she drew her head away, a few of her curls stuck to his chin. “Oh,” she breathed, “I do believe I fell asleep,” she claimed in hopes that such a minor lapse in propriety would deflect the others from the knowledge of one far greater.

  “Of what did you dream?” Mr. Lloyd-Jones asked quietly, his gaze so intense she felt scorched by it.

  “I can’t recall,” she said brightly as she turned away to rub at her cheek, the one she feared bore the imprint of the weave of his coat.

  “I do believe my Elizabeth has not fully recovered from her indisposition,” her mother said in a voice that quavered just a little. “Perhaps, Augusta, we should return home and put her to bed.”

  “Yes, I do think that would be best,” she replied as she rose to her feet. “I do so dislike to cut Katherine’s evening short, but you do not begrudge your friend her health, do you, Katherine,” Aunt Augusta said in that tone of voice that brooked no argument.

  “Why should my sensibilities be taken into account?” Katherine replied in dulcet tones. “I have grown quite accustomed to my place in the shadow of the beautiful and always sought out Miss Elizabeth Armistead. Indeed, I believe it was at my birthday fete that she and Mr. Cruikshank announced their betrothal,” she said, her voice rising in volume until one could deem her hysterical. “Why should tonight be any different?”

  “My dear Miss Katherine,” Miss Lloyd-Jones cried as she rose from her seat at the pianoforte. “You mustn’t discount yourself, so. I am persuaded you are sickening with something,” she offered as she put a hand to Katherine’s forehead. “No doubt it is with the selfsame illness from which your dearest friend has not yet fully recovered.”

  “Yes, Kate,” Elizabeth said upon receiving a pointed look from Miss Lloyd-Jones. “I am persuaded she is absolutely correct. Do take my arm,” she directed as she went to her friend’s side. “Mr. Lloyd-Jones, perhaps you might have our carriage brought round?” she asked cheerfully.

  He sprang to pull the bell and went to assist Katherine by taking her other arm.

  “Oh, I am sorry the evening has ended so soon,” Miss Lloyd-Jones soothed as she offered a hand to assist Elizabeth’s mother to her feet. “Let us hope that both ladies are fully recovered for our visit to the museum. I find I am so looking forward to it. It should not be the same if we are without a single one of you.”

  Elizabeth turned her head to favor Miss Lloyd-Jones with a grateful smile. “You are so very kind. I am persuaded we shall all be as healthy as horses by then, shall we not, Katherine? Though, perhaps I had best stay in and rest whilst you go and enjoy yourself.”

  “I wouldn’t hear of it, my dear Elizabeth,” Kate said in surprisingly happy tones. “You have been in the better part of a week, already, while I have attended all the parties at which you were meant to appear. How odd in me to have forgotten. I should not wish you to stay in when you only have a fortnight or two before you leave us for good.”

  “I do believe it to be a bit more than a fortnight or two,” Elizabeth said with a low laugh that belied her apprehension. “Once Duncan arrives, there are still the banns to be read and that requires another fortnight and a half.”

  An uneasy silence fell upon the group that was blessedly interrupted by the entrance of the butler.

  “How might I be of assistance, sir?” he asked.

  “Please have Lady Augusta’s carriage brought round at once,” his master requested. Once the door had shut behind the butler, however, the heavy silence returned.

  “Perhaps we ought to make our way downstairs,” Miss Lloyd-Jones suggested. “I am persuaded that, by the time we have arrived, the carriage shall be waiting. I do so hope you all sleep well so that we might enjoy our outing, all six of us together.”

  Mr. Lloyd-Jones opened the door, took Katherine by the arm, and led the way. Elizabeth took his sister’s arm and squeezed it gently. “You must be such a comfort to your brother. I must take a leaf from your book and practice more kindness when dealing with my own brothers.”

  “Oh, well! I am persuaded elder brothers are far more tolerable than younger ones, though I should have wished to have discovered the truth of that statement from my own experience. I should so enjoyed having been possessed of a sister, as well.”

  “One day, when Mr. Lloyd-Jones marries, you doubtless will,” Elizabeth said firmly.

  “Yes, and I am ever so happy that it is not to be Cecily Ponsonby. Do you know,” Miss Lloyd-Jones continued, “I daresay I should make a lovely sister a requirement of the man I intend to marry. That shall ensure that I have one I am happy to love.”

  “It is said that when you marry a man, you marry his family,” Elizabeth replied though she was soon to wish she hadn’t. The words echoed in her mind throughout the journey home, up the stairs to her bedchamber and were still there when she prepared to lay her head upon the pillow. What sort of family would her marriage bring her? What sort of woman was the bedridden Mrs. Cruikshank? And what of his siblings who were all older and living in the city?

  It was with great relief that she bid enter whomsoever it was who scratched at her door just before she blew out her bedside candle. “Oh, Mama, it is you!” Elizabeth cried upon that lady’s entrance. “I am so glad!”

  “Yes, dearest, I thought you might be. Hadn’t we better have a bit of a cose about what has occurred? I don’t know what can have possessed Katherine, but I am more than happy to assure you that you did not deserve a word of what she said.”

  “I must confess I hadn’t any idea she felt that way. I ought to have surmised, however. I feel a most thoughtless friend.”

  “Well, dear, the fault for such beauty, talent and kindness cannot be laid in your dish. You were simply made that way. Oh, my!” she exclaimed, “I have never been more proud of you than I was tonight! Your ensemble might have been made for such a room and you glowed like a ruby in a jewel box, you did.”

  “Mama, you know that was not my intention. Of course I enjoy a lovely gown, but I chose it on account of the Cruikshank clan tartan, not to outshine Katherine.”

  “No, of course you did not, though I daresay any of us could be accused of outshining the poor girl. Why, with that gown the same color as the chair and the wallpaper the same shade as her hair, she all but faded into the scenery. I was put out of sorts when she so insisted on the green silk, but I do believe it all worked out in your favor.”

  “Favor? Pray, do not speak so, Mama! I have no need to impress anyone but Duncan,” she said before she realized the utter folly of such a notion. “I consider myself the most fortunate of women,” she said, lifting her chin proudly, “that I need never be concerned that I shall lose the love of my husband because I fail to make a positive impression on him. I shall grow old and gray and he shall never know of it.”

  “You are most correct about that, my dear. Always and forever, in his mind, you shall look precisely as you do now—as beautiful as the day you were born.”

  When Elizabeth finally did lay her head upon her pillow, she found that she had a new notion to trouble her; that of the perennial beauty she would always be to Duncan. She had thought that she wished to marry him because he could not love her for he
r beauty. However, it was true that he had seen her often enough prior to the accident. She wished so much to be loved for more than her outward appearance but perhaps her comfort rose from the fact that, in his mind’s eye, she would be always as beautiful as the day they met.

  It was a sobering thought and one that spoke ill of her character. If only she might feel the truth of those qualities she possessed that made her worthy of the love for which she yearned.

  Chapter Nine

  The morning after his party, Colin found himself by the fire in the dining room. The fact that he was possessed of a perfectly lovely breakfast room was beside the point; he now enjoyed the dining room every bit as his library, and he would breakfast where he pleased in spite of his butler’s protestations. As he sorted the morning post, Colin was at first delighted, then more than a little suspicious, when his gaze settled on the crest, impressed in wax, of Sir Anthony Crenshaw. Why he was not in town to call in person, Colin could not begin to fathom. Certainly he had long ago completed the task set him by his grandmama.

  Colin broke open the seal and spread wide the single sheet of vellum.

  Dearest Jonesy,

  I am held prisoner at the Barrington estate near Bedford. The quarantine is meant to extend through the 15th of May. I count myself fortunate that I have not yet broken out in spots (have I had the pox? I do not recall) and that I am confined in tandem with two very pretty, young ladies whose skin as of yet remain unblemished. If only Avery were not under the same roof, I should be vastly enjoying myself. If I find you are responsible for his exquisitely timed arrival, it shall be pistols at dawn. Affectionately,

  A

  “What claptrap!” Colin bellowed aloud. “I have never read such a quantity of drivel in all my life!”

  “Might I be of service, sir,” Evans panted as he entered the room at a run.

  “But, of course not! You could no more terminate a quarantine than construct a gown. And I don’t know that they should allow you near the place, what with the pox run amuck. Besides which, you might end up a prisoner, as well.”

  “Sir?” Evans asked, his face perfectly composed except for his eyes, which were more than a little frenzied.

  “It’s not as if I believe a word of it,” Colin continued. “This is just Tony’s way of getting out of our pact.”

  “How, sir? I presume this Tony of whom you speak might escape his agreement only through death or illness, however, I cannot determine if it could possibly occur via the pox or imprisonment.”

  “Neither! Both! Don’t you see? None of it is the least bit factual. He has invented the whole of it.”

  “In that case, sir, I am most relieved. Is there anything else?”

  Colin looked at the butler and let loose the pent up air in his lungs. “No. I was merely taken by surprise. You must excuse my outburst.”

  “Very good, sir,” the butler said as he turned to quit the room.

  “Oh, and Evans, be a good man and have my breakfast brought in here from now on, will you?” Colin requested. He waited until he was alone before he jumped to his feet and began to pace the room. It wasn’t that he felt the least sorry for Tony; he had brought this predicament on himself. No, it was the pair of pretty young ladies with unblemished skin who had Colin feeling a bit nonplussed.

  And then it dawned on him. “Tres bien, alors!” he said to the painting on the wall. “If he sees himself absolved of our agreement, so shall I. I will attend every ball, rout and soiree and will do so with as much ardor as I please. But first, I am persuaded I am in need of a new waistcoat.”

  Breakfast was served promptly and Colin ate with good appetite to see him through a full day that included a visit to his tailor. He had promised that he would construct a waistcoat made to Colin’s exact specifications and to be delivered before the day was out. The visit with the tailor was followed by a visit to his club for a meal, and then a ride through Hyde Park to survey the landscape. If Tony was allowed such proximity to two young ladies, surely Colin should be allowed, at the very least, to peruse the new crop of debutantes of the season, many of whom should be seen riding out in their carriages to take the air.

  To his astonishment, he spotted his sister out for a ride in the crack-of-fashion, canary yellow curricle that belonged to the Corinthian, Sir Henry, who was seated by her side.

  Colin cantered up to the vehicle and lifted his hat in greeting. “Analisa, I see that you have made a fine beginning in your hunt for a husband.” He was gratified to see a wary expression enter Sir Henry’s eyes. “Is he aware that you have declined one offer already?”

  “I say!” Sir Henry cried. “We are only out for a ride through the park; there is no harm in that. I will have you know that we were properly introduced at the Ames’ do night before last.”

  “One of the many you promised to escort me to,” Analisa said with a bat of her lashes for her brother. “But you needn’t worry, Colin. Sir Henry is perfectly safe. We should never suit.”

  “I am? We shan’t?” Sir Henry demanded huffily. “Why ever should we not?”

  “Now, don’t be provoked, Sir Henry. You know as well as I that you should prefer we remain friends, isn’t that so?” she said with an arch look for Colin.

  “Mere friends do not live in one another’s pocket, Analisa,” Colin pointed out even as he wondered why she should wish to be seen in the presence of such a coxcomb.

  “I shall be sure to relay your notions on the subject to your dear friend, the soon to be Mrs. Cruikshank.”

  “What does my friendship with Miss Armistead have to say to anything?” Colin demanded.

  “Ah, then it is perfectly unexceptionable for you to live in her pocket, but I should not be seen with Sir Henry, here, even though I should never deign to marry him, not in a million years.”

  “Again, I say!” Sir Henry entreated.

  “Analisa Lloyd-Jones,” Colin warned in his most authoritative voice, “what game are you playing at? Have you forgotten that it was you who insisted I invite the ladies from India to the museum, as well as to my own home for dinner?”

  “No, of course I haven’t,” she replied, suddenly contrite. “But, Colin, dear, you must allow me to conduct myself as I choose in these matters. Do you not trust me?”

  “But of course I trust you, Ana,” he claimed, reigning in his restive mount. “I simply don’t like you being seen out and about with this dandy; that is all.”

  “I do believe I have been insulted yet again!” Sir Henry cried. “Miss Lloyd-Jones, do you wish to proceed with our drive or should you prefer to be let down in the street this instant?”

  Colin was as astonished as Sir Henry when Analisa gave her suitor a glance that took him in from head to toe. “I believe my brother is correct. I am persuaded I shan’t have a difficult time enlisting his aid in seeing me home,” she said, whereupon she alighted from the carriage and smiled up at her brother as he dismounted.

  The two of them waited until Sir Henry had tooled his eye-catching vehicle from view before bursting into laughter. “Analisa, you minx! I am persuaded he shall be soon regaling his cronies at White’s with tales of your double dealing, and where shall you be then?”

  “Double dealing? I shall have you know, I was perfectly amenable to riding out with Sir Henry today. It wasn’t until you registered your disapproval that I thought better of it.”

  Colin linked her arm with his and drew his horse behind them, reins in hand. “I am delighted to learn that you have seen sense. Might I ask if you have plans with any other exquisites? They do dress like men of means but I am persuaded father prefers to wed you to a peer.”

  “He does, does he now? I don’t know what makes him think I am worthy of such elan,” she said with an impish smile.

  “Do not disparage yourself, Ana. However, I do find you need guidance when it comes to marriage prospects. It is clear that I have been derelict in my duty. That being said, I have had a communique from Tony and I am now free to attend as many social
events as even you should choose. To whom do you go tonight?”

  “The Russell’s but I hardly think you should like to go there. Cecily is their god-daughter, after all.”

  “Never mind that,” Colin said. “They shall be as eager to forget their connection with her as am I. As for the visit to the museum tomorrow; were you genuine about how it might look should I be seen too often in the company of Miss Armistead?”

  “I did not mean to imply it was only Miss Armistead about whom I am concerned. There is also Miss Hale to consider.”

  “True. However, should I be seen squiring Miss Hale about town, there should hardly be any stir. She is to return to India very soon and that will be the end of any tittle-tattle.”

  “Are you so sure she wishes to return to India, Colin? I am persuaded she would enjoy marriage to a resident and to remain here as much as Miss Armistead.”

  It was a surprising notion. “Do you truly believe that?”

  “Why, yes I do. I would not have said it, otherwise.”

  “But you can’t mean that the sole reason Miss Armistead intends to wed her betrothed is to live in England?”

  “I do believe you to be correct; it is not the sole reason, I am most sure of it. However, I am every bit as certain that she does not love Mr. Cruikshank.”

  Colin felt a grin stretch across his face and he turned away from his sister to hide it from her view. “So, you feel it your duty to rescue her from a loveless marriage. Is this what lays behind your schemes?”

  “Do be serious, Colin, do! And do not say that you aren’t pleased; I know you are smiling, I can hear it in your voice. My motivation for throwing the two of you together is quite simple; I believe she shall make you a most excellent wife and myself an amiable sister. After months of feigning to love Miss Ponsonby and failing miserably, I find it a welcome notion, indeed.”

  Colin felt the smile fade. “She shan’t fall in with your plans. There is no mistake about that. Whatever her reason is for having chosen Mr. Cruikshank, she is entirely attached. And there is her character to consider; she has made it perfectly clear that she won’t easily forgive herself if she should fail to honor her promise to him.”