They were now joined by Lady Exencour, who smiled prettily on Lord Eynsford before turning to her husband with a censorious look.
“Fie on you, Francis, for abandoning me to Richard Pakenham. He has been droning on these ten minutes and I am bored to tears,” she said.
Lord Exencour smiled at her. “He is so obviously enamored of you, my dear, that I could not bring myself to ruin his pleasure by intruding my husbandly presence.”
“What is the good of being married, I ask you, if not to keep unwanted beaux away?” asked Isobel. “You really must perform your duties more ably, Francis. I am sure that the two of you have had a vastly more interesting conversation than I, and all because you so cruelly abandoned me to Mr. Pakenham.”
“We have been discussing Lady Morgan’s situation,” said Lord Exencour. “Eynsford is visiting his solicitor tomorrow and has kindly offered to speak to him about the mysterious Mr. Markham. I am sure he will be able to bring us reassuring news.” He directed an inquiring look at the marquess, who looked somewhat discomfited.
“How kind of you, my lord,” said Isobel. “You will think I am very silly, but I will be pleased to have my worries put aside.”
“I appreciate your concern for your friend,” said the marquess, and, although he meant the words, he could not help thinking that it would be easier for him if Lady Exencour were less devoted to Lady Morgan.
Lord Eynsford did not stay for the second act, but instead returned to his home, where he immediately repaired to the library and poured himself a brandy. The situation was becoming perilous, he reflected. He had been seen dressed in his disguise, and, if he guessed correctly, Lord Exencour had probably divined his secret. While Francis seemed inclined to take it all in good part, many others would surely not, and Exencour’s good will would only last as long as his charade did Letitia no harm.
He did not want to distress Lady Exencour, for whom he had real respect and affection, and he most particularly did not wish to create problems for Lady Morgan. If someone else were to discover his secret, tongues would doubtless begin to wag and the reputation that would suffer most would be the lady's. A widow of only a few months, in straitened circumstances, seen to be encouraging one of the greatest catches on the Marriage Mart, would doubtless be grist for many a mill. He sighed deeply, and Foxer once again approached to offer comfort.
“I am a fool,” he said to the dog, who looked at him sympathetically with his liquid brown eyes, but did not seem inclined to contradict him.
The marquess sat back in his chair and gazed into the fire, his fingers gently tousling the dog’s ears. “I will have to visit Lady Morgan tomorrow and tell her my true identity,” he said. “It would not do for someone else to discover this masquerade and embarrass her, and Francis would not be happy if I continued on this path.”
Foxer yawned and Phillip chuckled. “You think I’ve made a hash of this, and you are right,” he said. “She will understand though, will she not? Now that she knows me so well, she will not mind if the acquaintance is continued. I have no intention of being anything more than a friend to her, of course.”
The dog sighed and put his head on his paws. The marquess sighed as well and downed his brandy.
Chapter 20
The next morning the marquess arose unusually early and spent considerable time pondering his next step. Should he visit Lady Morgan dressed as Mr. Markham or as the Marquess of Eynsford? To appear on her doorstep as the marquess would make the explanation of the matter easier; he would no longer be able to dissemble and a confession would be forced upon him. But this might make Lady Morgan uncomfortable, he reasoned. It would be better, perhaps, to appear as Mr. Markham and to break the news gently. She might be more likely to still see him as her friend, for his appearance would remain familiar, while the marquess would necessarily be a surprising and possibly forbidding figure.
Lord Eynsford summoned Boothby, who had long since become inured to dressing his master in the hated solicitor’s suit. He did so now with the frozen mien he always adopted when forced to undertake this distasteful task, and the marquess soon emerged in the part of Mr. Markham. Eynsford reflected that he would miss the solicitor; he had come to be rather comfortable in the role, and had enjoyed the strange sense of freedom that it had provided him. While Mr. Markham did not, of course, have the wealth and power of the marquess, he also did not have the attention of others fixed on his every move, and Mr. Markham had been able to befriend Lady Morgan where the marquess had been rejected.
Chisholm accepted his master’s appearance stoically, and sat silently as they drove to Kensington. Eynsford was too involved with his own thoughts to converse; he was wondering how exactly to broach the fact that he was a peer of the realm and an arbiter of fashion, and not a solicitor at all. “Pardon me, Lady Morgan, but I have been deceiving you as to my identity,” hardly seemed a promising opening, and “I beg to inform you that I am the Marquess of Eynsford,” was scarcely better. He sighed. Chisholm gave him a sharp glance. So all was not well with the lovely gentlewoman? Well, his lordship could not say Chisholm had not warned him. The groom stared straight ahead, enjoying that certain glow that being proved right brings.
Letitia rose that morning feeling quite well. She had hopes that she would not see Dr. Wolfe again for several days, and her resolution of the afternoon before to go out into public more and meet more people still seemed well-advised. She wrote a short note to Isobel, describing the events that had followed her visit of the previous afternoon. Letty made it clear that, despite her consternation, she was able to find these amusing, and informed Isobel that she would be delighted to come to dinner at any time Isobel chose. “You may even,” she added, “invite others, including the dreaded Lord Eynsford.”
Letitia then repaired to the sitting room, where she set to work arranging the flowers Nellie had purchased at the market that morning. When Lord Eynsford was ushered into the room by she presented a charming picture, her fair head bent over a grouping of lilies, her delicate white hands placing them just so, a look of concentration on her lovely face.
“Mr. Markham,” the maid announced, and Letitia raised her head, surprise in her eyes. Mr. Markham had not previously called on her at home; all her encounters with him had occurred in the park.
“My lady,” he said with a bow. “I must apologize for intruding upon you.”
Letitia deserted her flowers and came forward, a smile on her face. “I am very happy to see you, Mr. Markham,” she said. “There is no need to apologize.”
“I am aware that we have never been introduced formally and that my visiting you is not entirely proper,” he ventured, “but I wished to apologize if I made you uncomfortable yesterday. It was not well done of me to behave so rudely to Dr. Wolfe.”
Letitia attempted to look stern, but an irrepressible smile peeped out. “If I were at all fond of Dr. Wolfe I might be upset with you,” she said. “But I must admit that I find him very tiresome.”
An answering smile broke on Phillip’s face. He had thought that Lady Morgan did not like the bishop, and Lord Exencour had confirmed the suspicion, but he was glad to hear it from her own lips. He did not care for the idea of someone as delicate and gentle as Lady Morgan subjected to the company of the insensitive Dr. Wolfe. She deserved far better, he thought.
“I am glad you did not take offense,” he said. “I know it is not my place to interfere in your affairs.”
“Dr. Wolfe’s manner would be enough to make many people behave far worse than you did,” observed Letitia. “I can only say that I was not offended, and I was even grateful that you interceded for me.” She gave another laugh. “He, however, is another story. I am afraid that he found your behavior disgraceful.”
“Did he indeed?” asked the marquess.
“Oh yes,” said Letitia naively. “He said that no solicitor he knew would ever behave so to him.” She paused. “I should not be repeating our conversation to you, but I do find him so annoying that it is
difficult to resist.”
“You are betraying no confidences, I think,” said Eynsford. “He made it quite plain what he thought of me, after all.”
Letitia giggled. “He did, didn’t he? He looked as though he would pop! To be so appalled because I converse with a solicitor! Perhaps he should be grateful you are inappropriate; then I will not be tainted by associating with you!”
Phillip smiled. Lady Morgan looked so lovely with laughter lighting her eyes that his breath was quite taken away. He realized that this might be the best moment for him to broach the subject of his occupation. Their conversation had provided an opening, and in this merry mood she might be less distressed by the disclosure. He opened his mouth to speak.
“Of course,” continued Letitia, who had returned to her contemplation of the lilies, “I am very happy that you are indeed a solicitor. For if you were a gentleman I could in no wise trust you. I positively believe that they are, all of them, deceitful wretches.”
Phillip closed his mouth. “It cannot be possible that they are all untrustworthy,” he protested.
“I was speaking in jest,” replied Letitia. “But I think I truly mean it. My friend Lady Exencour was used to rail again gentlemen and their ways, and I always attempted to temper her feelings. Now I find I share them. Except for her husband, my experiences with the men I am supposed to admire and respect have been excessively disappointing. I cannot abide their way of thinking they know best and keeping secrets from me.”
Eynsford was silent. The conversation had taken a sudden turn that made any admission of his own deceitfulness unlikely to be received with approval.
“Have I shocked you?” asked Letitia. “I do not mean to sound so fierce. It is not that I dislike all men. I am very fond of Lord Exencour and you have proven a good friend to me. But the two of you have been honest with me, and that is something I prize.”
“Honesty is, of course, very important,” agreed Phillip. “But are there not times when it is necessary to conceal information?”
“I will not say that I cannot conceive of such a circumstance,” allowed Letitia. “But I do not think it honorable, and I would not care to be involved in such a situation. I have been so before and it was not pleasant. Even though I am a woman, I deserve to be treated with respect.”
“Naturally you do,” agreed Eynsford. “I hope that your experiences will improve in the future.”
“But why am I haranguing you?” asked Letitia. “I have no cause to imagine you are deceiving me. You are my very trustworthy friend, and I thank you for that. Now, Mr. Markham, tell me what you think of my flowers. I find them quite lovely, what do you think?”
Phillip turned to contemplation of the flowers, and managed to give them enough attention that Lady Morgan was satisfied. He realized to his dismay that it would be impossible to inform Lady Morgan of his true identity today without causing her great distress; indeed, he wondered if he would ever be able to tell her and retain her friendship. Her past experiences had made her not only distrust gentlemen of her own class, but also abhor secretiveness. Untangling the problems he had caused by his deception would require further consideration. Surely there was some way to make her see he had meant no harm by his actions.
Eynsford stayed a few minutes more, but soon took his leave, fearing that Isobel or another acquaintance of Lady Morgan’s might come to visit and recognize him. As he bowed over Letitia’s hand he reflected ruefully that he was well served for his haughtiness. Here was a woman who wanted nothing to do with the Marquess of Eynsford, but was happy to befriend a solicitor named Mr. Markham. The thought should be sufficiently humbling.
The return to Mayfair was uneventful, outside of Chisholm’s observation that the horses should be able to get to Kensington and back without direction, a pleasantry that the marquess met with a cold stare and silence. The groom, not at all discomposed, grinned and looked straight ahead.
Upon returning to his house, Lord Eynsford repaired to his library to write a very proper note to Lady Exencour, informing her that his solicitor knew of Mr. Markham and assured him of that gentleman’s good reputation. “I am sure that Lady Morgan will come to no harm from him,” he ended the letter, “and you may be assured that she is being treated with proper respect.” He sealed the note with a rueful smile at what Lord Exencour’s reaction might be to the missive, and dispatched it with a footman.
Chapter 21
Isobel was delighted to receive Letitia’s note; she had started to wonder if her friend would ever regain an interest in Society, and was pleased to think of this as the first step in restoring Letitia to the world to which she belonged. It was all very well, Isobel felt, for Letitia to immure herself in Kensington and befriend solicitors while she was in mourning, but it would not do for her to continue on this path. She should take her place in the world and overcome her aversion to gentlemen of fashion.
Isobel, like many another happily married woman, was determined that her friend should know the same joys she did, and she felt that Letitia was especially deserving of them, having suffered so miserably at the hands of Lord Morgan. Although she thought of Lord Eynsford as the perfect husband for Letitia, she was willing to allow that there were other suitable gentlemen available; the only difficulty was getting Letitia to meet them. She sat at her desk, Letty’s note in her hand, pondering this dilemma.
It would not do, of course, for Letty to be gadding about London, but surely now that Alfred had been dead more than six months it would be possible for her to make the occasional public appearance. Isobel’s face brightened. She had the perfect solution. She sent to the stables for her carriage and, changed her frivolous morning dress for a delightful afternoon dress of a blue silk, with a deep figured ruffle at the bottom. The weather being unseasonably chilly, she wore over it a long pelisse of white silk twill, with lapels and trim of a dark rose shade. It sported quite six inches of dark green knot work above the pink trim at the hem, and off center buttons from the high waist to the hem. Along with this staggeringly elegant ensemble, Isobel carried a paisley shawl in matching hues and wore a deep poke bonnet.
After the brief carriage ride she swept into Letty’s sitting room to find that lady half asleep on the couch, a book in her lax fingers.
“Goodness, Letty,” she said, “Only see what living in Kensington has led you to! Napping in the middle of the day like...like a dowager!”
“But I am a dowager,” observed Letty complacently. “Or at least a widow, which is very nearly the same thing.”
“You certainly don’t look like one,” said Isobel promptly. “What a fetching dress, my love. Did you make that yourself? I wish I had your skill with the needle; but of course dear Madame Celine would be heart-broken were I to suddenly start stitching my own gowns.”
“Whenever would you find the time?” asked Letitia teasingly. “As a widow I have little else to do but sew and nap and read, but you are the busiest woman I know. And your skills are so redoubtable that it does me good to know there is one area in which you cannot challenge me.”
“Pish,” said Isobel. “You certainly have nothing to be ashamed of. How have you been spending your time outside of napping and entertaining bishops?”
“I have done very little else,” said Letitia. “And I find napping infinitely preferable to visiting with Dr. Wolfe. Only fancy, Mr. Markham called this morning to apologize if his “rudeness” to the bishop had offended me. I told him I find him to be by far the greater gentleman.”
Mr. Markham called?” asked Isobel.
“Yes,” replied Letitia. “Do not look so severe. He only came to apologize and indeed seemed rather uncomfortable. I am aware that our friendship seems odd to you, Isobel, but I do promise you that it is completely innocent.”
“You have no need to make promises to me,” said Isobel. “I know that you would not choose a friend unwisely and I am sure that Mr. Markham is a wonderful fellow. But I am happy that you wish to go out more; despite your solicitor’s exc
ellent qualities, I am sure there are other men whose company you would enjoy.”
Letitia laughed at this speech. “Very pretty, Isobel. Have you arranged a second coming out ball for me? Shall I wear pink and dance with all the most eligible men?”
“Now you are making fun of me,” said Isobel with a smile. “And I daresay I deserve it. But Letitia, I have had an excellent idea. Three nights from now, as I am sure I have told you a hundred times, the Strancasters host a splendid ball. It is very near the end of the Season, and this shall be the last great entertainment - all of Society will be there. I would be so happy if you could come!”
“A ball?” said Letitia. “I do not think that would be appropriate, Isobel. I am in mourning, and Alfred has not been dead a year. If I were to go to a concert that might be acceptable, but I think a ball would be considered terribly fast.”
“I have thought of that too, Letitia. But it is not as though you will be going to countless balls; this is the last great party of the Season and then you will promptly go back into retirement. All the world knows how very circumspect you have been; why, no one has heard of you since Alfred’s death except Francis and me. I know countless widows of shorter duration than you who go about a great deal more. People are positively talking because you are never seen!”
“You are doing it a bit brown, Isobel,” laughed Letitia. “Are you actually trying to convince me that my proper observation of mourning customs is causing gossip?”
“Perhaps not gossip, but certainly comment,” persisted Isobel. “I believe it would do you a great deal of good to get out and see some new faces, and I do not believe that Society would judge you harshly, especially when you are known to everybody as a very good friend of mine. Your presence at my ball would not be thought at all unusual.”
“You are very persuasive,” said Letitia. “But when I proposed that I should go out more I meant that perhaps I would come to dinner or accompany you to the theater. I did not mean that I would attend a large social gathering.”
An Honest Deception Page 12
