by Mary Balogh
“I shall carry you there,” Lord Eden said.
“Yes, you must lie down,” Lady Habersham said. “You really should be resting more, dear.”
Don’t say any more. Please don’t say any more!
“Thank you,” Ellen said, “but I have quite recovered now, my lord. I do not need your assistance.”
“I shall come with you, Ellen,” Lady Habersham said. “You must lie down until luncheon time. And I shall send for my physician. It is high time you consulted him.”
Please, oh, please, don’t say any more!
Ellen collapsed facedown on her bed a few minutes later and stayed there as her sister-in-law removed her slippers and tiptoed from the room.
If she tried very hard from now until doomsday, she could not possibly think of a greater humiliation than what had just happened. He had appeared again, and she had swooned—literally swooned—at his feet. Whatever would he think? He was bound to draw all the wrong conclusions.
She had been feeling dizzy before she left the morning room. She had not been expecting him. She had not had time to prepare herself for that first face-to-face encounter. If only she had known, she would have received him with admirable coolness. He had taken her by surprise.
And she had swooned!
How would she ever be able to face him again? As if it had not been hard enough to do so anyway. But would she have to face him again? Would he not now realize that she just did not want to see him?
Or would he feel obliged to come back to inquire after her health?
Lord Eden, downstairs with Lady Habersham and Jennifer, was expressing concern about Ellen’s health.
“She has been feeling indisposed for some time,” Lady Habersham said. “It is doubtless no more than the stress caused by my brother’s death. I will make sure that she sees a physician and rests more.”
“I did not know that Ellen had been feeling unwell,” Jennifer said in some distress. “She has not said anything to me, Aunt Dorothy. I have been selfish, as usual, have I not? I have been thinking about only my feelings.”
“You are absolutely not to blame, my dear,” her aunt said briskly.
Lord Eden got to his feet. “I was hoping that you and Mrs. Simpson would be free to walk with me this afternoon,” he said to Jennifer. “But I will, if I may, call tomorrow to see how your stepmother does.”
He made his bows and took his leave.
Had he done that to her? he wondered as he rode away. Had she really been unwell, as Lady Habersham had said? Or had it been a sickness that only the sight of him had brought on?
Should he call the next day? Would it be kinder and more honorable to stay away? But he would have to go. He would have to assure himself that she was feeling better.
He had dreaded making the call. He had dreaded that first moment of looking at her again with all the necessity of appearing cool without seeming careless, of appearing friendly without seeming heartless. He had dreaded having to form those first words to say to her.
But he had thought it was possible. He had rehearsed the meeting many times, expecting that it would be in the presence of other people. He had not expected to stare dumbly at her, his mind paralyzed so that no words had come at all, except her name.
He had behaved like a schoolboy with his first infatuation. It was quite ridiculous, especially when he had had more than two months in which to recover from their liaison. Especially when he had convinced himself that she did not mean any more to him than any of the other several women who had been his mistresses for varying lengths of time.
He would have to do much better the next day.
LADY HABERSHAM SUGGESTED a short walk in the park in the afternoon. If Ellen was feeling well enough, that was.
“Of course I am feeling all right,” Ellen assured her. “I had been bent over the desk writing for an hour this morning and jumped to my feet too quickly. That was all. It was very foolish of me to faint in the hallway.”
“And there was the shock of finding that young man there,” her sister-in-law said with a nod. “He was a very close friend of Charlie’s, was he not, Ellen? It must be hard for you to know that he survived when Charlie did not. But he is a very amiable young man, and very handsome too. You were quite right about that, Jennifer.”
The girl blushed.
Five minutes after they had entered the park, a curricle drew to a halt beside them, and Jennifer recognized Anna and Walter Carrington.
“Do join us in a turn about the park, Miss Simpson,” Anna said after introductions had been made. “The seat is narrow and we will be horribly squashed. But you will be doing me a great favor. Walter declares that I have not a word of sense to say, which is very nasty and ungentlemanly of him, and no other gentleman of my acquaintance has ever said such a thing. But Walter is my brother and thinks it quite unexceptionable to be as rude as can be to a mere sister.”
She laughed gaily while her brother looked indignant and jumped down to the ground to lift Jennifer up.
“You would be doing me a kindness too, Miss Simpson,” he said, “by rescuing me from a shrew. With your permission, ma’am?” He did not seem to know whether he should look to Ellen or Lady Habersham for permission, so smiled at both.
“How pleasant for her,” Lady Habersham said a minute later as the curricle moved away along one of the carriage paths. “I am glad to see her make some friends, Ellen. And they seem like very pleasant people indeed.”
“Yes,” Ellen said. “But I am not surprised, you know. Jennifer was very popular in Brussels.”
Lady Habersham linked her arm through her sister-in-law’s. “I am glad we have a few minutes together,” she said. “I have talked with Papa. He wants you and Jennifer to take tea with him two days from now. Phillip and Edith will be there too. You will come, Ellen?”
Ellen smiled brightly. “Jennifer too?” she said. “He has changed his mind about her? Oh, yes, Dorothy, of course we will go. I am so very glad. And thank you for speaking up for Jennifer.”
“Well,” Lady Habersham said, squeezing Ellen’s arm, “I think Papa would have accepted any conditions at all as soon as he heard the news.”
“The news?” Ellen felt herself turn cold.
“About his expected grandchild,” her sister-in-law said. “I don’t recall ever seeing Papa quite so excited about anything, Ellen.”
“You told him,” Ellen said, closing her eyes briefly. “Dorothy, I asked you not to tell anyone else yet.”
“No, dear.” Lady Habersham stopped walking. Her voice was full of concern. “No. You asked me not to tell Jennifer. I did not realize that perhaps you would wish to be the first to break the news to Papa too. But of course. It was thoughtless of me, wasn’t it? Of course you would want to tell him yourself. And now I have spoiled it for you. Oh, I am so sorry, Ellen.”
“No.” Ellen put one hand over her face and shook her head. “No, it is not that, Dorothy. I am sorry. I’m not angry with you. I am just being silly about this whole thing, I suppose. I want to keep it a secret, when it will be quite obvious to anyone who cares to look within the next month or two.”
“It is just that you are so very alone,” her sister-in-law said. “If Charlie were only with you, Ellen! Oh, I can imagine just how proud and happy he would be. But we are your family too, dear—Papa and Phillip and I. And Jennifer, of course. We will help you to feel the happiness of the event, even though, of course, there is bound to be a great deal of sadness for you too.”
“You are so kind to me,” Ellen said, looking up at Lady Habersham. “I really don’t deserve…Oh, dear.”
“Well,” her sister-in-law said, “in two days’ time you will meet Papa and Phillip. And all will work out well, you will see. Papa is not a monster, you know. Not at all. And he is going to love you. And Jennifer too.”
“Has he agreed to receive her only because he wants to meet me?” Ellen asked.
Lady Habersham squeezed her arm again. “Never mind about motives,” she
said. “It is the results of the meeting that will be important, Ellen. He will not be able to help loving her once he sees her.”
“So he will meet the grandchild of questionable legitimacy in order to be sure of meeting the one of whose birth there can be no doubt,” Ellen said quietly.
Lady Habersham patted her arm. “Ah, here they come again,” she said. “And all laughing merrily, as young people should. Is not Anna Carrington a very pretty young lady, Ellen? Her hair is as dark as Jennifer’s, but cut very short, if I am not mistaken. And Mr. Carrington is a very presentable young man too.”
MADELINE RODE BESIDE her brother during the carriage ride to Bedford Square.
“I really appreciate this, Mad,” he said. “I owe you a favor.”
She grinned at him. “I shall not forget,” she said. “But this is no burden on me, Dom. Allan was tired this morning when I went to read to him, and decided that he will rest this afternoon. And I wish to see both Mrs. and Miss Simpson again. I liked them both in Brussels.”
“When is Penworth going to admit any visitors but you?” he asked. “And when is he going to venture outside?”
“It will take time,” she said. “He will do both eventually, Dom. Have patience with us. Please?”
“I want to talk to him,” he said. “If he is to be my brother-in-law, I want to get to know him. And he should meet Mama and Edmund.”
“He will,” she said hastily, laying a hand on his sleeve. “He will, Dom. Do try to put yourself in his place. How would you feel?”
He looked at her silently for a few moments and then turned to look out the window at the passing streets. “Probably much the same,” he said. “Except that I don’t think I would have betrothed myself to anyone.”
“Only because there are not as many women who are as impudent as I,” she said. “It quite puts me to the blush to know that I proposed to my future husband. But if I had not, he would never have married me. So I am not sorry. Will Mrs. Simpson receive you, do you think?”
“I don’t know.” He grimaced. “And I don’t at all know if I am doing the right thing, coming here again like this. But I have to make sure that she has recovered.”
“And you really feel nothing for her, Dom, beyond the concern you would naturally feel for your friend’s widow?” she asked.
“No, nothing,” he said. “I have known her for several years, remember. That foolishness lasted only a few days. I just need to make this one visit. Then it will all be over.”
“Oh, liar, Dom,” she said, settling her shoulders against the corner of the seat and looking steadily at him. “I am Madeline, remember? Your twin.”
He glared back. “I brought you with me for moral support,” he said, “not as father confessor. And on this one you are wrong anyway.”
She shrugged and said nothing. But she made him feel uncomfortable all the rest of the way by sitting sideways and staring at him.
She still said nothing as they waited for Lady Habersham’s butler to take Lord Eden’s card upstairs. But it most certainly helped to have her with him when they were shown into an upstairs salon. He could collect his breath and his thoughts while presenting his sister to Lady Habersham and while waiting for the effusive greetings Madeline exchanged with the other two ladies.
He bowed over Jennifer’s hand and acknowledged Ellen’s curtsy with a nod.
She sat down with a straight back, not touching the back of her chair. She folded her hands quietly in her lap. Lord Eden took his courage in both hands and crossed the room to take a seat beside her. Madeline began to talk with animation to the room at large.
Her face was thinner and had lost color. Her gray eyes, by contrast, looked larger and more luminous as she rested them steadily on Madeline’s face. Her fair hair, smooth and shining, was drawn back from her face in the old simple style, resting in a knot at the back of her neck.
Unbidden memories came to him of her face flushed and animated at a ball and heavy-eyed with passion on a pillow, that hair framing her face like a shining halo.
“I trust you are feeling better, ma’am?” he said. Words of ridiculous formality. He had murmured love words into her ear, against her mouth.
“Yes, I thank you, my lord.” She lowered her eyes away from Madeline and looked to the side. But not at him. “I was very foolish. I had been bent over a letter for more than an hour.”
She had cried out her love to him, murmured his name over and over again.
“I hope you have recovered thoroughly,” she said. “You are looking well.”
How did she know? She had not looked at him.
“Thank you,” he said. “I have made every effort to regain my health.”
The hands in her lap looked relaxed until one observed closely and saw the whiteness of her knuckles. She had sat beside him many times with one of those hands in his, smiling at him while he kissed each finger separately.
“I felt that I must call on you and Miss Simpson,” he said, “to see that you have settled comfortably in this country.”
He had dreamed once of settling her on his own estate in Wiltshire. He had told her about it once when she lay in his arms, her hand smoothing gently over the bandages on his chest. He had told her how it had been his since the death of his father but how he had never really thought of it as home. But he had dreamed of doing so then with a wife of his own to take there. Though he had not said that to her.
“That is very kind of you, my lord,” she said. “We have settled well. My sister-in-law has been very good to us, and tomorrow we are to take tea with Sir Jasper Simpson.”
“With Charlie’s father?” he asked in some surprise.
The name brought spots of color to her cheeks and increased his own discomfort. The name of her husband, his friend.
“Yes,” she said, “we are to meet him tomorrow.”
He had dreamed of presenting her to his own family. As his future wife. He had dreamed of how his mother would love her, of how Edmund would approve his choice, of how Alexandra and Madeline would become her close friends.
He had dreamed a whole lot of dreams that he had never experienced with his other mistresses. But then, she had not been his mistress. It was an unsatisfactory word applied to her, suggesting a kept woman.
Ellen had been his lover. For a brief time. In the past.
“Miss Simpson will come with us, Dom,” Madeline’s bright voice said, reminding Lord Eden that he was in a room with other people as well as her. “And will you, ma’am?” She smiled at Lady Habersham. “And you, Mrs. Simpson? But you were talking with Dom then and did not hear. We are going to drive to Kensington Gardens and walk there awhile.”
“I am afraid I have another engagement later this afternoon,” Lady Habersham said.
“Then Mrs. Simpson must come,” Madeline said. She smiled engagingly. “You really must. I have just come home and I have recently become betrothed to Lieutenant Penworth and I simply must have someone to boast to.”
“You are betrothed to Lieutenant Penworth?” Jennifer said with a smile. “How splendid! He must be considerably better, then? I cried when Ellen told me about his injuries. I could not help remembering how he loved to talk about riding and sailing and playing sports at home in Devon.”
“You will come?” Lord Eden asked Ellen.
He watched her draw in a slow breath. She looked across at Madeline, her expression quite calm.
“Thank you,” she said, “that would be pleasant. I shall come as chaperone for Jennifer again.”
Madeline laughed. “You must come as our friend,” she said. “I would be quite chaperone enough for Miss Simpson, you see. Shall we leave? And then we will not keep you from your other appointment, ma’am.” She smiled at Lady Habersham.
Lord Eden got up as Ellen rose to her feet and left the room for a bonnet and shawl. Jennifer smiled brightly at him and followed her stepmother.
Lord Eden’s eyes met his sister’s smiling ones across the room.
MADE
LINE SAT BESIDE ELLEN IN THE CARRIAGE, Lord Eden and Jennifer opposite them. Madeline talked brightly to all three for a few minutes before the conversation divided itself into two pairs. Then she talked to Ellen about her betrothal.
Ellen did not know quite how it had come about that she was sitting in the carriage at all. She had been prepared for Lord Eden’s calling at Dorothy’s. She had been prepared for his asking Jennifer to go walking with him. And she had even considered the possibility that he would extend the invitation to include her too. She had had her answer all ready. A maid could accompany Jennifer.
In the event, a refusal would have been even easier than anticipated. Her stepdaughter would not have even needed a maid as chaperone, since Lady Madeline was to be with her.
Yet here she sat, Ellen thought ruefully. And how did one avoid altogether looking at a tall and fashionable gentleman who sat opposite, his knees almost touching one’s own? And more to the point, why would she wish to avoid looking at him? She should look across, meet his eyes, smile coolly, and dispel this terrible embarrassment and awareness that were making her extremely uncomfortable.
She kept her head turned and her attention focused on Madeline beside her.
“He is beginning to realize,” Madeline said in response to Ellen’s question, a twinkle in her eye, “that short of suicide, he is doomed to live on for a time at least. He realizes that he must somehow make that life worth living. He can never do any of the things he enjoyed doing before, of course. He has to begin life anew. I have been reading to him. I have been encouraging him to paint and concentrate on music. He is apparently accomplished in both, though of course the painting may be more difficult now that he has only one eye. But the foolish man, of course, does not see those as manly accomplishments.”
“It has been only three months,” Ellen said. “I believe that if the lieutenant is already beginning to think that there is a future to plan for, then he is doing remarkably well. I am sure that having you has helped him enormously, of course.”
