Miss Dower's Paragon

by Gayle Buck

  Lord Hughes scrambled up out of his chair, alarmed by the extent of her rage as well as her helplessness. Nothing could have driven aside his own self-centered interests so effectively. “Agatha! Have a care!”

  She would have fallen except that he caught her in his arms.

  The commotion brought in the servants. The footman stopped short, but the maid rushed forward. “My lady!”

  Lord Hughes looked around as he gently helped Lady Pomerancy back into her chair. The maid clucked with distress and hurried to replace the rug over her ladyship’s knees. “Her ladyship misjudged her strength. But I do not think that she took hurt. Am I mistaken, my lady?”

  The footman stared hard at the gentleman, then looked at his mistress. “My lady, are you quite all right?”

  “Of course I am. Why shouldn’t I be?” Lady Pomerancy flashed. “Get out, the both of you. Oh, do stop fluttering over me, woman. I shall ring when I wish for anything. You may clean up this mess later.”

  The footman had righted the table and had gone down on one knee to begin collecting the tray and pieces of glass from the broken decanter. He looked up. “The stain, my lady—”

  “The carpet is undoubtedly already stained so that it can scarcely matter if it is done now or later. Get out, I say.”

  The servants left with obvious reluctance. The footman sent a last meaningful glance in Lord Hughes’s direction before closing the door.

  Lord Hughes was not amused by the manservant’s obvious mistrust, but he merely commented, “A good man, that. I never could command that sort of loyalty.”

  Lady Pomerancy sighed. After ordering out her servants, she had shaded her face with her fingers. But now she dropped her hand. “I apologize, Horace. It is unlike me to flare up in such a fashion.”

  “On the contrary. Whenever we have chanced to meet through the years, we have come to cuffs within minutes. You usually end by telling me to go to the devil,” said Lord Hughes.

  Lady Pomerancy chuckled faintly. “I had forgotten. Very well, Horace, you have my continued leave to go to the devil.” Her expression turned thoughtful as she met and held his eyes. “Yours is a fickle, self-absorbed character, but on the rare occasion you have actually surprised me. In both instances, it has been in regard to Peter’s future.”

  Lord Hughes stirred uncomfortably. “Pray do not make me out some sort of saint, Agatha. Nothing would irritate me more, you know. I told you, I merely wish to satisfy myself that the title will continue to be held by someone with whom I have a vague blood connection.”

  “I suppose that is not an unreasonable ambition,” said Lady Pomerancy. “I, too, could wish that Peter would take a bride. He has grown increasingly restless since his return from the Continent. However, I have good reason to know that he has recognized for himself that it is time to be looking about him for a suitable party.”

  Lord Hughes recognized a tacit truce when it was offered him. He smiled. “Then you will have no objection to my broaching the subject to the boy?”

  There came an odd smile into Lady Pomerancy’s eyes. “None at all, Horace. Perhaps your advice may even be of some benefit. You may steer Peter clear of all sorts of ill-advised starts through your patent example.”

  “Thank you for that vote of confidence, dear sister,” said Lord Hughes with fine irony. He levered himself out of the chair. “If you have no objection, I should like to discover which room my possessions have been put into so that I may begin changing for dinner. I assume that you do keep country hours in Bath?”

  “We are not so provincial as that, Horace. However, if you should wish it, I shall ask that a tray be carried up to your room so that you may dine early,” said Lady Pomerancy generously.

  Lord Hughes laughed. “No, no. I would not think of putting the kitchen out on my account. I shall see you and my grandnephew below at the usual hour.”

  “It will be my company only tonight. Peter dines out this evening,” said Lady Pomerancy. She lifted her brows at her brother’s surprised expression. “Surely you did not think that he was kept quite so close by my apron strings as all that, my lord?”

  Lord Hughes lifted her hand to his lips. “You are magnificent as always, my lady. And as usual, you have left me with nothing to say.”

  “I do not believe it, but courtesy forbids me to put it to the test,” said Lady Pomerancy.

  Lord Hughes laughed again. He made a flourishing bow to her before he left the salon.

  Lady Pomerancy sat before the fire, reflecting for several moments. Then she rang the bell that she always kept in her possession. Immediately the door opened to admit her maid and the footman. “I wish to go up to my rooms. When my nephew comes in, pray send him up to me whatever the hour.”

  “Very good, my lady.”

  * * * *

  The hour was well advanced when Mr. Hawkins returned. As he handed over his drenched overcoat to the butler, his brow was creased in a frown. His somber expression deepened upon being informed of his grandmother’s summons, but without comment he went upstairs and along to Lady Pomerancy’s private salon.

  Lady Pomerancy greeted him civilly and bade him sit down. He declined, preferring instead to stand at the mantel with one arm laid along its length. With an encompassing glance, she said, “I appreciate that you humor me at such a late hour, Peter.”

  He smiled at her, somewhat tiredly. “Well do I know that if I did not, I would gravely offend your sensibilities, ma’am.”

  “Quite true,” said Lady Pomerancy equitably. She gestured for the maid to leave them, and when the woman had done so, closing the door softly behind her, she said, “I would not ordinarily have left so insistent a message, as you know, but I wished to forewarn you before you went down to breakfast.”

  Mr. Hawkins raised a brow. “My attention is thoroughly engaged, my lady. What calamity is to befall me in the morning? Am I to be hauled away for some crime that quite escapes my memory at the moment?”

  “Nothing so dire, dear boy, though I suspect that you might wish it to be so simple a matter before all is done and said. Your uncle arrived this afternoon while you were out and expressed to me his intention to see you properly wed-locked. He will undoubtedly importune you at first opportunity,” said Lady Pomerancy.

  “Oh Lord,” said Mr. Hawkins ruefully. He passed a hand over his thick hair. “It needed only that.”

  Lady Pomerancy regarded her grandson with shrewd eyes. “Am I mistaken in concluding that the advent of Lord Hughes is but an additional annoyance?”

  Mr. Hawkins laughed a shade grimly. “That is mildly put, ma’am. I have come away from a solemn half hour with Percy, in which he confided to me his intention to offer for a certain young lady.”

  Lady Pomerancy stared up at him. “Surely not Miss Dower!”

  He laughed at her ladyship’s appalled comprehension, then shrugged. “I fear so. I wish now that I were not so insistent that my cousin unburden himself. Percy was moody all the evening so that even Sir Charles commented upon it. He recommended that I take Percy off after dinner and talk to him. The upshot of it is as I have told you.”

  “Will the dratted girl have him?”

  Mr. Hawkins frowned. He toed a burning faggot further into the fire. “I would not have thought so, for Miss Dower accords Percy all the friendliness of a sister. I have never detected anything else in her manner toward him. But Percy seems to think that she feels quite otherwise.”

  “Percy is a nodcock,” said Lady Pomerancy succinctly. “I have spoken enough with Miss Dower to have gained some insight into her intelligence. Though she had the incomprehensible bad judgment to turn down your offer, she is needlewitted enough to realize that she and Percy would never suit. If what you say is true, I do not think that you need be anxious over Percy’s offer for her.”

  “Where Miss Dower is concerned, however, I find that I do not care to wait upon fate to decide the outcome,” said Mr. Hawkins quietly, still staring into the fire.

  “Then what will
you do?”

  Mr. Hawkins looked around. There was a glimmer of a smile in his eyes. “Perhaps Percy himself will provide the answer,” he said.

  Lady Pomerancy saw that there was no more to be got out of him, and so she recommended that he go to his bed. She rang her bell. As the maid returned, she said, “You will need your rest to fortify you for your confrontation with your uncle.”

  Mr. Hawkins laughed and agreed. He dropped an affectionate kiss upon her head and left her to the ministrations of her maid.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Lord Hughes rose and went down for a late breakfast, as was his usual custom. As he entered the breakfast room, he was unsurprised to be informed by the butler that his grand-nephew had already gone out. “I shall catch him later, I expect,” he said, at once helping himself to a generous portion of steak and kippers.

  “Indeed, my lord. Mr. Hawkins asked me to convey his apologies as well as his intention to return in time to take luncheon with you,” said the butler, pouring his lordship’s coffee.

  Lord Hughes paused in the act of raising the loaded fork to his lips. “Said that, did he?” A ruminative look entered his eyes as he stared at the steak on his fork. Then he shrugged and set to doing justice to his plate.

  The butler quietly exited, certain that his lordship was not inclined to address him further.

  Upon hearing that Mr. Hawkins had left him a message, Lord Hughes had instantly and correctly concluded that Lady Pomerancy had already apprised his grandnephew of his sudden visit. It remained to be seen whether her ladyship had also enlightened Mr. Hawkins of the reason behind it, but knowing Lady Pomerancy as he undoubtedly did, Lord Hughes thought he could depend upon her ladyship for doing him that kindness. He snorted in amusement. Of course she had, if for no other reason than to annoy him.

  Lord Hughes sat back from the table, feeling all the benevolence of a gentleman comfortably sated, and plied his linen napkin to his mouth. “But I am one move ahead of you, dear Agatha,” he murmured to himself, and laughed.

  It actually suited him very well that his grandnephew had been warned off him, for it saved him the trouble of finding a tolerably polite way of broaching the topic. Now he considered himself to be free to plunge right into the matter without any delicate maneuvering. He’d look over the offerings of Bath, and coupled with a few eligible prospects that he had decided upon before leaving Town, he would have his grandnephew affianced before Peter could blink twice. With any luck, he would be able to return to London and its amusements within a solitary month.

  Lord Hughes rose from the breakfast room feeling himself to be in charity with the world. After inquiring after Lady Pomerancy, only to be informed that her ladyship had not yet risen, and not being one to wait patiently about, Lord Hughes decided to leave the town house.

  A half hour later he descended the front steps of the town house. He had refused the footman’s offer to order around a carriage and set out at a leisurely pace, jauntily swinging his brass-headed cane.

  Lord Hughes actually enjoyed to walk, a surprising idiosyncrasy in one whose reputation for self-indulgence and pleasure-seeking was a byword. However, his had been an active childhood spent in the country, and though his lordship had long since abandoned the energetic pursuits of his youth, he had retained his early habit of seeking the outdoor air in this gentler fashion.

  Lord Hughes’s perambulations carried him in the direction of Queen Square. The fall of rain during the night and the subsequent passing of carriages had churned the streets around the square to mud, but the pavement walks were relatively dry, and a number of ladies were also taking the air. His lordship’s eyes rested appreciatively on several tolerable female figures. Belatedly he bethought himself of his purpose in coming to Bath, and he began glancing at faces, as well, rationalizing that he must be able to point out to his grandnephew that there were eligible ladies to choose from of suitable attractiveness and age.

  It was with this thought in mind that he courteously stepped aside to give a pair of ladies right-of-way, when his glance fell on the face of the elder of the two. His mind suffered a shock. “Amanda Dower?”

  The lady glanced around at him, smiling in polite inquiry. Her eyes widened in startled recognition. “Dear Lord! It surely cannot be you. Is it indeed you, my lord?”

  Lord Hughes burst out laughing and approached her with his hands held out. “My dear lady, you have not changed in the least,” he said in an affectionate tone.

  The lady blushed, taking his hands in her own for a brief moment. With a pretty air of confusion, she said, “My lord, pray allow me to make you known to my daughter. Evelyn, this gentleman is Lord Hughes, Viscount Perigree. He—he is an old friend.”

  Evelyn stared at her mother in astonishment. She had never seen that lady so obviously out of countenance.

  “Ah, little Evelyn. I remember you, of course.” Lord Hughes shook her hand, then held it between both of his palms. He swept a glance over her. “But you are a young lady!” Lord Hughes gave a regretful sigh, shaking his head. “Alas, one does not realize the passing of the years. She is a lovely gem, Amanda.”

  Evelyn murmured something polite. She hardly knew what she said as she continued to absorb the strange effect that the gentleman was having upon her mother. However, she suspected that it did not actually matter, for Lord Hughes seemed to be as equally engrossed with Mrs. Dower as that lady was with him. He had scarcely glanced at her before his eyes had returned to Mrs. Dower.

  “I cannot contain my curiosity a second longer, my lord. How came you to be here—in Bath! And after so many years!” exclaimed Mrs. Dower.

  “I wish that I might say that I came to renew my delightful acquaintance with you, Amanda, but in all truth I had no notion that you had made Bath your home,” said Lord Hughes. His voice held almost a caressing note. “If I had known, I might have come down from Town before this to try the waters.”

  Mrs. Dower blushed again. “Really, my lord!”

  “We were once such good friends that you addressed me by my Christian name. It would please me greatly if you did so again. Dare I hope that you recall it?” said Lord Hughes softly.

  Mrs. Dower’s blush deepened. “Of course I do—Horace. I—I cannot believe that you have come for the waters. Why, you were used never to be ill a day of your life.”

  “Of course I have not,” agreed Lord Hughes, smiling widely. “No, I have come to pay a long past due visit to my sister and grandnephew. Perhaps you are acquainted with Lady Pomerancy and Mr. Peter Hawkins?”

  “Why, I had forgotten that Lady Pomerancy and you—-. It has been so very many years, you see, and the connection had quite faded from my memory,” said Mrs. Dower apologetically. “But of course we are acquainted with her ladyship and Mr. Hawkins. In point of face, Evelyn—”

  “Mr. Hawkins and I have developed something of a friendship,” Evelyn interposed, fearing what her mother’s indiscreet tongue might inadvertently reveal to this urbane, worldly gentleman. She sent a quelling glance in her mother’s direction.

  “I see.” Lord Hughes’s lazy, half-amused glance rested briefly on Evelyn’s face. He had not been behind in catching the warning light in the young lady’s swift look, and his curiosity was stirred. “This is a happy coincidence, indeed. I am presently staying with Lady Pomerancy and my grandnephew in Lansdown Crescent. Perhaps you will do us the honor of joining us at luncheon? I should like very much to renew my treasured acquaintance with you, Amanda, and I am certain that Miss Dower and Peter will have any number of friendly topics to relate to one another.”

  “I am sorry, my lord, but—” Evelyn began.

  “I will be delighted to accept your invitation to us, Horace. I have been behind in paying my respects to Lady Pomerancy, in any event. She asked me to tea not long ago and I begged off,” said Mrs. Dower.

  Lord Hughes smiled at her. “She scares you to flinders, does she?”

  Mrs. Dower laughed somewhat shamefacedly, casting an appealing look up
at Lord Hughes. “It is bad of me, I know. But I have always been such a coward.”

  “Never mind, my dear. I shall be present, and I shall guard you against the gorgon,” said Lord Hughes expansively. “Are you shopping this morning? I should be very happy to accompany you if you had no objection to it.”

  “Oh, none whatsoever,” Mrs. Dower assured with a soft smile.

  “We are just returning from the Pump Room, my lord, and had not intended to visit the shops this morning. Perhaps another time,” said Evelyn politely.

  Lord Hughes’s lazy glance again touched her. Evelyn had the distinct and unpleasant conviction that he had looked straight through her. She bit her lip, disliking that he had so easily discerned her suspicion of him even though she had spoken with perfect propriety.

  Lord Hughes took Mrs. Dower’s hand and slipped it comfortably into the crook of his arm. Smiling down at her, he said, “I shall accompany you home, then. And your lovely daughter, of course. Perhaps later you will allow me to provide escort to Lansdown Crescent.”

  “That will be perfectly agreeable, Horace,” said Mrs. Dower, the brightness of her eyes but a foil for the brilliance of her smile.

  Evelyn had no choice but to follow her mother and Lord Hughes in their slow progression to the town house. The couple ahead indulged in much laughter and shared reminiscences. It was gradually borne in on Evelyn that Lord Hughes had once been a great admirer of her mother’s and that the lady had not been entirely indifferent to the gentleman.

  The amiable memories continued to flow over refreshments, while Evelyn listened in growing amazement. She could see how affected both Lord Hughes and her mother were becoming by the reminiscing, Mrs. Dower even wiping aside a sentimental tear for the wonderful days long since past. They would soon be reduced to maudlin weeping at this pace, Evelyn thought, appalled. She lifted the comfit tray and offered it to Lord Hughes. “Perhaps another, my lord? They are from my mother’s own recipe.”