“No, no,” Henriette soothed, “how can you say that? You are a beautiful young woman, and you could marry anyone! I am so sorry, my dear! I did not realize how awfully you were driving yourself.”
Ada sniffed, and blinked at Henriette. “I thought you wanted me married and out of the house! I really thought you wished me gone and did not mind how.”
“Oh, you silly, dear Ada,” Henriette soothed, and gently stroked her hair. “I cannot believe you could think such a thing! I would keep you with me always if I could! But it would be cruel of me.”
Ada sniffed, and smiled through the tears.
“Oh, Henriette! Sister,” she said gently, putting an arm around Henriette's slim shoulders, “I almost would not have believed it. I have been unfair to you, and misunderstood you.”
“Never mind,” Henriette said impulsively, and kissed her hair. “What matters now is that I know.”
“And Roderick...”
“I will deal with Roderick,” Henriette said firmly. “Though he would far rather you were happy, my dear. Your brother loves you dearly.”
“Thank you, my dear sister,” Ada sniffed. She sat up and wiped her face with her lace handkerchief. “I am so glad to have you as my sister.”
“And I am glad of you, dear,” Henriette said. “You are always so welcome. So very welcome.”
Henriette embraced her fiercely and did not let go until they reached their home.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
DIVERSIONS
DIVERSIONS
Ada was not there when Henriette told Roderick, but she knew she must have done so when, the next afternoon, Roderick suggested they all travel to St. James' Park for a concert. He knew enough of her to know that she loved concerts and St. James' park both: if anything would cheer her up, that would. Ada was touched, but still weary.
She woke in the middle of the day, feeling tired after the late evening, but more peaceful than she had felt for months. The memory of Henriette's reaction was heartening, and the knowledge that she must have passed the information on discreetly to Roderick. At least it meant she would be spared contact with that awful man.
The thought was heartening, and Ada felt better. She stepped carefully out of bed and pulled the bell for Priscilla to help her dress.
Half an hour later, dressed in her favorite blue day dress, Ada found herself sipping tea in the parlor, waiting for Henriette to finish dressing. She flipped idly through a copy of the Ladies' Monthly Museum – a magazine to which Henriette subscribed, for amusement's sake. It showed hand-painted color plates of fashionable dress, but otherwise held little interest for Ada, who preferred books.
“Ada!” Henriette appeared, dancing lightly into the parlor in new walking shoes. “Here we all are. Should we go?” She noticed Ada's reading material and raised a brow. Ada said nothing.
“Of course,” Ada nodded, and stood. She still felt a little shaky – a result of all the shock of the past few days. She wished she could see Liam again – she felt certain his presence would make her feel stronger. She dismissed the thought and walked lightly down the stairs with Henriette.
Roderick was waiting by the door, dressed elegantly in a long dark-blue coat and matching top hat. He handed Ada and then Henriette up into the carriage, smiling. He did not mention Oscar, or anything unpleasant, for which Ada was grateful. She felt much closer to them since her talk to Henriette.
“The children are not coming today?” she observed mildly. The carriage was smooth, and she felt herself relaxing as it flowed across the cobbles, the wind of its passage ruffling the silk riband of her bonnet.
“No!” Henriette said, and laughed. “We need some time for amusement, don't we? And besides, a concert is no fun for them – they'd rather be gallivanting around the house, learning to dance with Mr. Prestwich.”
Mr. Prestwich was the girls' instructor in music and dance, and was fortuitously in town this month, giving lessons to the young ladies of the gentry. The fact that the girls could continue their tuition unbroken was a pleasant addition to their trip, and Ada said so.
“It is!” Henriette smiled. “We have fun, they have dancing lessons – which I am assured they enjoy heartily – and we're all contented.” She sighed and Ada laughed.
“And I don't think we would have come on this trip if Mr. Prestwich hadn't,” Roderick laughed. “Having something to occupy our boisterous brood is always a good thing.”
They smiled indulgently, and the carriage sped past the rows of cabs and up toward the greenery-covered gateway of St. James' park.
They were by far not the only elegant carriage pulling in beside the gates – there were coaches and chaises of all manner and description, disgorging ladies with plumes in their hair and top-hatted gentlemen into the leafy haven of the park.
“My lord Roderick!” someone hailed Roderick as he jumped down from the carriage. A tall gentleman with silvered hair, he soon engaged Roderick in some complex discussion about investment that seemed to maintain his interest as they walked along the shaded, cool paths below tall trees.
“I do love it here,” Ada said to Henriette as they walked, arm in arm, watching the elegant couples who drifted ahead along the tree-lined walkways.
“I know,” Henriette said, and patted her hand. “You have always loved nature, and green things, it seems.”
Ada smiled. “I do. I feel at home in nature. There is something about silence that is so full of words,” she said, trying to explain. As she said it, she thought of Liam. He was also often silent, a contemplative and intense being. Yet there was no one who spoke so clearly to her soul.
“I think you will find someone who shares that one day.” Henriette smiled fondly. “A man for you would need to be a complex man, I believe.”
Ada glanced sideways, looking at her serene face searchingly – she could see no hint of dissembling there, no guile. Still, she wondered if Henriette knew of her affection for Lord Liam.
“Oh, look,” Ada said, changing the subject. They were nearing the stage where the orchestra was setting up. The sound of violins, tuning harmoniously, slid across the dew-damp grass to soothe their ears.
Ada sighed, breathing in damp air scented with flowers. It was so beautiful here! She looked around, enchanted. As she did so, she noticed someone standing on the edge of the crowd, right at the back. A tall, lean gentleman in black clothes.
Liam! The barest glimpse was enough for her to know him. She felt her heart turn over. It seemed he saw her in the same moment, for she saw his eyes widen and then narrow. He stepped to his left, as if indicating she should move. She dipped her head, fractionally and, when he disappeared into the stand of trees to her right, she glanced sideways at Henriette.
“I think I saw Lady Emma over there,” Ada lied, mentioning the name of a long-ago childhood friend. “If you wouldn't mind, may I go and check if it was her?”
Henriette turned slowly, big black eyes tranquil. She was clearly miles away, lost in the first notes of the concert. Roderick stood behind her, unperturbed.
“Of course,” Henriette said briefly. “By all means! I will lean on Roderick if I get tired.”
“Eh?” Roderick blinked, seeing the two ladies looking across at him, and both laughed.
“Never mind, dear,” Henriette said softly. “Nothing important.”
Ada smiled thankfully and slipped quickly away.
At the edge of the crowd, she looked about to make sure no one observed her, and then slipped quickly into the trees.
She stepped into the green, sheltering coppice and almost instantly heard someone beside her.
“Ada!”
“Liam...”
She had not meant it, but she was in his arms, and they kissed. His lips were hard and hot on hers, and she felt her heart race.
After a moment, they stepped apart. She was panting, her chest heaving.
“Lady Ada,” he said gently. “I had to see you. Toby said you were imperiled?”
Ada star
ed at him. “He did? Oh, bless Toby,” she said, suddenly teary. She felt her knees weak under her with relief. The fact that he knew, that he knew the truth, and did not think her in love with Oscar, was a gift beyond imagining.
“I had to see you,” Liam said again. “My dear, you must not see this man again.”
“Since he and I are both in London, I do not see how to prevent this,” Ada said in a small voice. She wished that she could avoid Lord Oscar, but he would be at every party, every poetry-recital, every ball she visited. There was no way to avoid him.
“I think the man is not... quite right,” Liam said guardedly.
Ada nodded briskly.
“I know.” The way his moods shifted so quickly and intensely, his intense need to be always the center of attention, his inability to relinquish her despite whatever distaste he felt for her company... they all added together to make him seem clearly unbalanced.
“I need to ask you to do something,” Liam said, his hands on her shoulder. “If he comes near you again – if he says so much as a word, ill-meant, you must please tell me. You should not see him alone. I will be there if you need me.” His face was pale, his eyes raw wells of pain and fear. She suddenly understood what he was saying. He hated the public eye. And he was willing to face it, for her?
“Liam,” she said gently. “You can't.”
“I am terrified of crowds,” Liam admitted. “But it is long enough now. Long enough that I have hidden while you faced peril alone. Next ball, I will come with you.”
“Liam...” Ada stared at him. Her eyes, too, were huge, and filled with wonder. She knew how terrified he was of groups of people, how he shunned the stares and whispers of ignorant people and preferred to be alone than within a mass of people. If he would face that with her, it would mean he was facing his worst fear for her sake. “Oh, Liam...”
“Ada,” he said simply, and buried his face in her hair. “I would brave anything for you.”
They stood like that for some time, locked in embrace, the sweet scents of flowers weaving around them to bind them in enchanted closeness. The music grew louder, wafting in on the breeze with the sound of violins and, somewhere, a harp and flute.
“You are so brave,” Ada whispered to him.
“My darling,” he said quietly, his voice soft and sincere, “I would risk anything, anything at all, to keep you safe.”
They kissed again, a kiss flavored with mint and a tenderness Ada had not thought existed. She sighed, withdrawing from his arms, and they quietly stepped apart.
“I should go,” he said, breathing out raggedly.
“I, too,” Ada said softly. “Someone will wonder where I have gone.”
“Yes,” he agreed, smiling. “Though, against all propriety, I would keep you with me.”
Ada smiled. “You, sir, are probably brave enough to take on all propriety, but I am not as brave, and so step back from that conflict.”
He laughed. “You are braver than anyone I ever saw,” he said simply. “That day in the park, the day in the woods... even the other night at the ball, when you faced down the duke. You face things every day and overcome them. And you don't even notice.”
Ada smiled. Her whole body was fizzling, as if she had drunk sparkling wine. She felt giddy and delighted and she wished this evening would never end.
“I would believe you, sir,” she said softly. She walked to him, and touched his arm gently. “But, were I so bold, I would take liberties I ought not to, and the consequences might overwhelm us both.” She could not quite believe what she was doing, but she reached up and drew his head down to her, kissing his lips as he had kissed hers. When she released him, he staggered back. His eyes were dazed, his face a picture of confusion and wonder.
“Ada, I...” Liam stammered. His voice was rasping and he looked as a soul tormented.
“When we are married,” she said firmly, “we shall make up for all these lost moments. But now, I must go.” Feeling her whole body aching with regret, she walked haltingly but resolutely out into the clearing, the scent of flowers and dew still in her breathing.
Slipping quietly back into the crowd, she stood alongside Henriette for the rest of the concert, listening to the dulcet tones, though her heart was entirely and absolutely elsewhere. The words she and Liam had exchanged played over and again in her mind, and she knew that, now that she had found this love, there would be no relinquishing.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
PROMISES KEPT
PROMISES KEPT
The next day, Ada woke to a peaceful household. She rose late and took her breakfast in the parlor, where Henriette and Roderick were already sitting, tea to hand.
“Good morning, my dear.” Henriette smiled, looking up over the rim of her teacup. “You slept well?”
“Very well.” Ada nodded, and bit back a smile. Her dreams had been wonderful, occupied by Liam.
“That is a new dress, is it not?” Henriette asked. “It looks charming.”
“I had it made up in July,” Ada said, taking a seat. “With the sprigged muslin Roderick ordered in York.”
“It is most becoming.”
“Thank you.”
Ada took a seat and helped herself to tea from the china pot that stood there. It was warming and she leaned back in the velvet-padded seat, smiling at her remembered dreams.
“Do we have any engagements today?” she asked languidly.
Henriette looked up from the magazine. “Yes,” she said. “Roderick and I agreed to take the girls to Cashley's Tea House this afternoon, and this evening we have a ball at Malling House.”
“Oh?” Ada tried to keep her voice neutral. Inside, her heart was thumping. “Will it be a large party?”
“Mm,” Henriette agreed. “And the Duke of Norwich will be attending, I do not doubt.”
Ada swallowed and looked down at her tea. “Oh,” she said briefly.
Henriette raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.
“Well,” she said, setting aside her book a few moments later and stretching languidly, “what is the hour, Roderick dear?”
“Half an hour past ten.”
“We should depart after luncheon. Will you come with us, Ada?”
“Yes,” Ada agreed.
The afternoon with the girls passed quickly and delightfully, and sooner than Ada would have liked, she was back at home and making ready for the ball.
Ada sat at her dressing table, contemplating her reflection. For the first time in an age, if ever, she hoped Henriette was right in her estimation that she was beautiful.
As she focused, trying carefully to blank out thoughts of Liam and the possibility of his attendance, her focus was shattered by a voice calling her.
“Ada... Ada! Have you seen my plume? The white one, of ostrich feather... oh! I know I had it yesterday...” Henriette ran into Ada's bedchamber, all a flurry.
“It's with your silk purse, in the upstairs parlor,” Ada suggested. “Unless I am completely wrong, you left it there yesterday for mending?”
“Oh, thank you!” Henriette sighed, and ran to the door. “You look lovely, Ada,” she added, waving a white satin-coated hand as she ran for the upper parlor and her missing ostrich-feathers.
Her hair was ringleted, a cloud of auburn-gold about her thin face. Her eyes were huge and amber-brown and her lips were painted a darker shade of red. Her ears had pearl drops and a circlet of pearls was round her neck. Her dress was white satin, the sleeves chiffon and puffed over her shoulders, gathered mid-arm. The collar of the dress dipped slightly in the center, accenting her soft, pale skin and long neck. Her hands were encased in silk gloves. The dress dropped sheerly from the high waist, below her slender bust, to her feet.
“I don't think I'm too bad,” she smiled at the mirror. She could feel her heart beating like a drum and her hands were sweating. She breathed deeply to compose her mind. She felt so nervous. She had sent a message to Liam, telling him she would be there that evening, and that Oscar m
ight attend.
But will he answer me?
She drew in a shuddering breath just as Henriette appeared in the doorway again, outfit finally ready. She paused in the hallway, fine-skinned brow wrinkled in delicate bewilderment. “Are you well?”
“I am well,” Ada said firmly, though she could hear the tremor in her voice herself. “Shall we go?”
“Yes,” Henriette nodded. Ada rose on trembling legs and together they walked down the long staircase to the hallway.
Roderick was waiting for Henriette, wearing a blue velvet jacket that enhanced the redness of his hair, and long trousers that suited his tall, lean body.
“My sister! Henriette! I am honored to escort such a pair,” he enthused.
Ada pulled a face at him.
“I don't believe a word of it, brother,” she said playfully. “But thank you all the same.”
Henriette laughed. Together they climbed into the carriage, and then they were off.
Malling House was teeming – coaches of all description were arriving and leaving, men ran with torches to light the way for ladies and gentlemen who worked their way slowly up the pavement to the door. The doors were open, and light blazed, goldenly, from behind them.
Ada stepped lightly down, feeling every bump in the cobbles under her slipper soles. It seemed as if she had shed a layer of skin, every nerve receptive and sending a thousand signals to flood her mind with information.
“It's a bit cold out, yes?” Henriette said, drawing her hood around her as the two ladies walked toward the stairs.
“Yes,” Ada whispered softly. The air had the liquid quality of springtime, and it played with her velvet cape, teasing it this way and that. She gathered it closer about her and ascended the stairs.
“Lady Henriette Drosty and Lady Ada Drosty,” the man at the door announced grandly as they entered, and Ada stiffened, then looked about the hall, walking in through the suddenly-warm air to join the throng of people.
An Earl To Remember Page 15
