Quiet Meg

by Sherry Lynn Ferguson

  Sutcliffe bowed low. He clearly requested a dance from Meg, which she as clearly refused. Chas watched the man’s face redden, his fingers clenching before he snatched the dance card from Meg’s hand. He perused it as Bertram protested. Sutcliffe handed it back and turned to pin Hayden with his glittering gaze. The satisfied twist to his thin lips made Chas wish to strike him right there. But it was enough to observe how little mastery Sutcliffe had over his passions. That flaw, Chas imagined coldly, would always prove to the earl’s disadvantage.

  Sutcliffe strode angrily away to join his slight and sullen friend, whom Chas assumed to be the Baron Mulmgren.

  Chas suspected Meg Lawrence could hardly enjoy the evening, with such a war going on about her. Indeed, assurance of her unhappiness, of her de facto imprisonment, was much of what had impelled him to this present course.

  Hayden found him during the next dance.

  “I am taking myself off to the refreshment room, Chas. Sutcliffe and Mulmgren cannot follow me without deserting Miss Lawrence. You may find me there later-if Sutcliffe leaves you ambulatory.” He raised his glass to one eye and lazily surveyed the room. “I do not know whether I have done you a favor or not, cousin.”

  “You have. I am eternally grateful”

  “I might wish that promised to be longer.” But Hayden smiled at him. “By the by she is a diamond.”

  “I only wish she were hard as one. She has been hurt, and she will be again.”

  Hayden nodded and departed. Chas looked for Sutcliffe and failed to spot him. The earl would not leave before the waltz, that was a certainty, though he was no doubt pleased by Hayden’s absence from the hall.

  Chas danced again, with Lucy’s young friend Amanda Burke and once more with Candace d’Avigne, ascertaining before both dances that Meg was already partnered. During the break he removed himself from the Lawrences’ view. When the next set began he spent his time in conversation with some of his grandmother’s acquaintance, well aware that she was bound to hear all in any event. Noting that Sutcliffe was nowhere to be seen, Chas wondered if Hayden had been pursued to the other room. But it was too late to check-the orchestra was tuning up for the waltz. Chas strode over to Meg and bowed low. In her presence he wished almost to kneel.

  “I believe this dance is mine, Miss Lawrence”

  “Your cousin … Lord Hayden…”

  “Lord Hayden regrets that he’s been detained. Would you do me the honor?”

  “I … yes, of course””

  The music had started. It was one of his favorites. With a brief nod to Bertram, Chas swung Meg onto the dance floor.

  For some time he did not look at her, merely led her effortlessly through turn after turn, in a smooth and rhythmic spell. But as his gaze at last settled on her face Meg knew she had to speak.

  “I know ‘tis you I must thank. Your cousin … so attentive to Lucy..

  “Hayden chooses his own partners,” he said softly. “As do I”

  Meg had to glance away.

  “Where did you learn to waltz?”

  “In Vienna, Miss Lawrence. I told you I have Austrian relatives.”

  “You must have waltzed every day?”

  “Morning, noon, and night.”

  She turned again to his quick smile.

  “Sir-I owe you an apology” Just then he spun her about, robbing her of breath.

  “For what, Miss Lawrence?”

  “For … calling you..

  “A gardener. Which is what I am. You needn’t apologize. Though I might wish you had shown the profession a bit more respect.” Despite the dismissal, something of anger lingered; his hold on her waist tightened. But as Meg continued to gaze silently up at him that temper seemed to fade. Their gazes locked as surely as their hands and arms.

  Again she yielded to the spell of the dance. It was best that it should be the longest waltz ever played-the waltz without end. She knew she should speak, that they should both be speaking, but she was as loathe to break the silence as his touch.

  A smile lit his eyes.

  “What are you … pondering, sir?” she asked warily.

  “Trees.” Again they whirled about.

  “I doubt many women have been so complimented,” she said at last.

  “Only one, Miss Lawrence. Your eyes are unique. I cannot decide if they are green as fresh leaves, or blue as the deepest ocean. But yes-I think of trees.”

  Meg knew she was blushing. The arm circling her waist again tightened, but this time not in anger.

  “You are holding me too close, Mr. Cabot.” But he did not loosen his grasp.

  “I would ask you to attempt a smile, Miss Lawrence. Just for a few seconds here, as we come into this turn. ‘Twould do my reputation a world of good-amongst Miss Lucy and her friends.”

  The thought that he should need any help in that sphere was laughable. She could not help but smile. Cabot wheeled her around once again. As the music ended he loosed his arm from her waist and bowed very low-right under the Earl of Sutcliffe’s nose.

  Meg froze. To move from such joy to such fear in an instant was more than she could manage. She watched numbly as Cabot stood erect and started to take his leave.

  “One moment, sir,” Sutcliffe hissed. “I would speak with you.” He would have forced an introduction. But Cabot, who was a few inches taller, merely looked past the fuming earl and departed into the crowd.

  Meg had not realized Cabot had left her so close to her family. Bertie was at her side at once, just as Sutcliffe’s jealousy flared.

  “Such a display has never before been admitted in this hall, Miss Lawrence,” he bit out. “I imagine that even now your privileges are being revoked”

  “So let them be,” Bertie said. “M’sister has done nothing wrong, Sutcliffe. And you have no right to speak to her so”

  Meg laid a hand on Bertie’s arm. She feared her brother would provoke more than he anticipated.

  “Let us leave here, Bertie,” she said softly. “We need not answer to Lord Sutcliffe.”

  “Need not, miss?” Sutcliffe repeated, his gaze trapping hers. “The time will come when you will wish to”

  She followed Cabot’s example and turned her back on him, compelling Bertie to follow suit. Had Cabot known how it would be? Why then, had he deserted her to face Sutcliffe alone? She felt that the extraordinary pleasure and freedom of the waltz had been stolen from her, like so much else.

  Even as her family rose to leave, Meg was conscious of the whispers around them. She kept her chin high and clung to Louisa’s warm hand. To her credit, Lucy did not look dejected or disappointed, but left the hall as proud as any other debutante who had `taken.’ Once that achievement had been acknowledged it could not be withdrawn.

  Louisa squeezed Meg’s hand.

  “Ferrell believes he intends to elicit a challenge,” she whispered as they donned their wraps.

  “Who?” Meg asked, her voice strained and equally low. “Sutcliffe?”

  “Mr. Cabot”

  The thought shocked her. Meg had great respect for her brother-in-law, but she hoped in this instance that Ferrell was wrong.

  They made their way together outside. As Aunt Pru passed Meg to step up into the carriage she looked closely into her face.

  “Are you quite all right, Margaret?” she asked. “‘Twas a spirited waltz”

  “I am fine, Auntie,” she assured her, following her into the carriage. Meg imagined she must look pale as death. It occurred to her to wonder what possible remedy Pru might have suggested had she not claimed to be fine.

  Louisa squeezed in next to Meg facing forward, then Bertie, Lucy and Ferrell sat opposite. There seemed to be even less room in the carriage for this return trip-or else Meg was too conscious of the concerned attention of her family. Expectancy kept them silent. But they did not disapprove. Quite the contrary. They all appeared to be trying very hard to stifle smiles. For a while they heard only the horses’ hooves and sounds of the street.

  Lucy,
sitting directly across from her, finally burst out, “Oh, Meg! To see you! It was so-so glorious!”

  The others seemed to expel a collective sigh. Ferrell smiled out the window as Louisa again pressed her hand.

  “Lucy is right,” she said. “You deserved that, Meg. Almack’s has never seen its like.”

  “And probably never will again,” Aunt Pru observed sagely. The prospect of surrendering their privileges did not appear to trouble her, because she laughed. “The Countess Lieven and Princess Esterhazy were positively green. They have never danced as well.”

  “Do you think … do you think father will..

  “Father will wish he had been there, Meggie,” Bertie assured her, “to laugh in Sutcliffe’s face”

  Meg was less confident of her father’s good humor. Sir Eustace was keenly aware of the very real danger of taunting Sutcliffe. She thought her father might share some of her fears for Bertie-and for Cabot.

  “Will this gentleman be paying his addresses to you, Margaret?” Aunt Pru asked.

  In the light from passing lanterns Meg stared at her in dismay.

  “Oh no, nothing like that,” she said at last. “He … simply enjoys the waltz. He told me he learned in Vienna.”

  Ferrell again turned to smile out the window as Lucy frowned at her.

  “Well, I should think that after something like that you might have to be, to be at least promised, or … or ..

  “Lucy,” Louisa interrupted, “you spent considerable time with young Harry Wembly this evening.”

  Lucy tilted her little nose.

  “Why shouldn’t I speak with him, since he was kind enough to come? He is our neighbor-and a friend.”

  “Kind enough to come!” Aunt Pru exclaimed. “Did you invite him, young lady?”

  “Why, yes. And Charles too, for that matter. Though they’d have had to obtain their own vouchers of course .. °”

  “Lucinda,” Aunt Pru sniffed. “It is not done.”

  Silence again descended in the carriage. Lucy glared accusingly at Louisa’s corner, but Meg could only be grateful for the respite.

  Sir Eustace wished to see them immediately upon their return home.

  “So, my children-did Lucinda Lawrence take the place by storm?”

  “She did indeed, father,” Louisa said.

  “Lucy did very well,” Aunt Pru supplied. “Though she must work on her deportment.”

  “Oh, Papa,” Lucy knelt before his chair. “You would have been most impressed! With all the lights, and the ladies and gentlemen all beautifully dressed. The music was exquisite-would you not say so, Meg? And I danced every dance but two, because Aunt Pru insisted I must rest, and one was a waltz, but Meg will tell you about that. Harry and Charles came just as I asked and I danced with them and with ever so many other gentlemen and-and several peers, too, including the Marquis of Hayden. Oh, he is just top of the trees, father! He’s Charles’s cousin and he wore a sapphire as large as … as large as an egg! I would have had more dances only Lord Sutcliffe made such a fuss after Meg and Charles waltzed ..

  “They waltzed, did they?” Sir Eustace asked, looking to Meg’s spot by the piano. “Did you enjoy the waltz, Margaret?”

  “It was most pleasant, father.”

  “He did not stomp on your pretty toes, then?”

  “No, father.”

  “It was a very graceful exercise, Eustace,” Aunt Pru inserted. “And the two of them were enchanting to watch. But I fear there may be repercussions.”

  “From Lord Sutcliffe?” Sir Eustace asked quickly.

  “From Almack’s patronesses.”

  “Bah! What do we care for that?”

  “I rather think you might care, Eustace, with two daughters not yet wed. This Mr. Cabot did not present himself to me”

  “He is known to us, Auntie,” Louisa said.

  “‘Twould rather have spoiled the enterprise, Lady Billings,” Ferrell added.

  “What enterprise, Thomas?” Sir Eustace asked sharply. But Ferrell merely grinned.

  “I don’t care whether he is Braughton’s nephew. Mr. Cabot was most abrupt,” Aunt Pru said.

  “A little abruptness now and then suits a young man, Prudence.”

  “I really don’t see what was so abrupt about ‘im. Bertram protested, only to be shushed by his aunt.

  “His cousin Lord Hayden, on the other hand, was impeccable,” she continued.

  “Impeccable or no, ‘tis not his lordship I’m trusting to revise my scenery,” Sir Eustace growled. “Leave this be, Prudence. I shall request that Mr. Cabot bend a knee to Lady Billings when next he is in town. Is that acceptable?” Even as Aunt Pru smiled, Sir Eustace added, “But I warn you-he is very busy. He’s been twice at Selbourne in the past two weeks. I’ve had it from my steward. I do not ask a hardworking man who is doing as he ought to come running to town to pay homage to you..

  “He had time enough for a waltz,” Aunt Pru said under her breath, but Sir Eustace ignored her.

  “And you should know as well, that he has promised his efforts to the Duke of Clare this summer. I think you would have to cede that Clare is impeccable ton. Polished enough even for you, Pru! I’ll not have you troubling this young man”

  “Father,” Meg said, “perhaps it would be best if Mr. Cabot were to avoid town for a while. Lord Sutcliffe was most unpleasant. There is no need to revive this business.” She sent a pleading glance at Louisa and Ferrell.

  “My daughter must be allowed to dance without Lord Sutcliffe’s say-so”

  Meg rubbed one palm against the piano’s smooth ebony finish. All at once she felt exhausted. The waltz played repeatedly in her head. And given her father’s pride and her aunt’s persistence another confrontation with Sutcliffe seemed inevitable.

  “We must be going, father,” Louisa said, observing her. “Meg and Lucy must be tired”

  “Of course, m’dear. We will talk more tomorrow.”

  “And there will be callers tomorrow,” Aunt Pru noted with satisfaction. “And we must also complete our plans for Lucy’s ball.”

  “Can we not attack one item at a time, Prudence?” Sir Eustace asked with irritation. “I swear you wish everything to happen yesterday!”

  Aunt Pru chuckled as she led the way out of the drawing room. Louisa kissed Meg’s cheek, whispering “courage” into one ear before departing. As Meg moved slowly upstairs to her room, Lucy confidingly linked one arm through hers.

  “I am so pleased, Meg. I could not have asked for more. Lord Hayden dancing with us! I shall never forget it. And Charles was simply splendid, don’t you think so? He looked so very fine. Almost-almost too fine for us. Lord Hayden told me Charles will be an heir to … to … oh, some place in Austria. A lake I think-when some old grand uncle dies. Not that I would wish his uncle to die, of course …”

  “Lucy, I truly am fatigued.”

  “Oh yes, Meg, I won’t keep you, only I wanted to say that I … that you and Charles … that the waltz was … Oh! That you must have Charles if you wish” And with a quick kiss Lucy darted off to her room.

  “Well,” Hayden said pleasantly the next morning. “The betting is running four to one that Sutcliffe will kill you.”

  Chas continued to tie his cravat as he viewed Hayden’s reflection in the mirror.

  “You are the gambling man, Hayden. You must place your blunt where you will.”

  “Oh, I have,” his cousin said, dropping his quizzing glass to fuss with the faultless fall of linen at his own throat. “Why they all focus on you I cannot fathom, since I danced with Meg Lawrence as well. Although, in all fairness, we probably made a less spectacular showing ..

  “This is one attention you needn’t envy, cousin,” Chas said. “Unless you find the odds more promising than I do?”

  Hayden smiled.

  “Who taught you to dance so anyway?” he asked. “Not that stuffy old dancing master you used to moan about. Hasefuss. No, Heizfast ..

  “Herr Fass,” Chas corrected, ya
nking his cravat free to begin anew. “No, not Herr Fass. But his daughter..

  Hayden laughed.

  “Chas, I shall miss you” He realized what that implied. “Only for the nonce, of course. You are certain you must be off to Kent today?”

  “I must see Clare. I’m thinking I might need his help in some way.”

  Hayden’s eyebrows rose.

  “Surely me pater … Braughton..

  “No, I cannot ask him. I owe Clare my time. If I start what I can, perhaps he will more equably bear with a delay. And if I am not long for this world,” he turned from the mirror, “at least I shall leave the plans for Abbey Clare as a legacy.”

  “Most men might leave offspring as a legacy,” Hayden suggested mildly.

  “I fear that is beyond my present capability.”

  Hayden laughed again.

  “Only if one has your preference, of course-for sowing cedars instead of wild oats”

  Chas smiled.

  “You are planning to call on the ladies today?”

  “Of course. I don’t need instruction in manners, Chas, though you appear to. You don’t wish to make your intentions clear to Sutcliffe by accompanying me?”

  “I made my intentions very clear last night. The gentlemen at White’s seem to have understood.”

  “And Miss Lawrence-does she understand?”

  Chas shrugged.

  “It does not signify,” he said, though he was conscious of an uncomfortable pressure in his chest.

  Hayden eyed him.

  “There is some speculation I have an interest in the youngster-Miss Lucinda,” he drawled. “The attention cannot hurt the chit. She’s a spirited little thing. It might be some sport to elevate her prospects. Though I believe she already has a tendre for the Oxford boy-same year as Clare’s brat, by the by-that studious Mr. Wembly.”

  “Lucy?” Chas asked incredulously.

  “Yes. She had that funny little way of dismissin’ him and invitin’ him at the same time. I tell you I know these females, Chas. Usually on to ‘em within a few minutes at most. Little Lucinda Lawrence I can understand. Not at all like your Meg-with those big eyes all sincere and soulful. I tell you, it’s not to be borne. Better to have as much deception on a woman’s part as a man’s. Otherwise there’s no fun in the game” He spoke with unusual heat.