by Three Graces
Euphie smiled at her. “Or you?”
“Or me.”
Their whispered conversation was interrupted, and they turned back to the group around them.
On the other side of the room, Aggie had said, “Good evening,” and John Dudley had replied. Both were now looking at the floor.
At the same moment, Aggie began, “I hope you…” and Dudley said, “You are looking…” They both laughed uncomfortably. “Go ahead,” said both at once. They laughed again; Aggie wondered miserably if their former easy friendship was gone forever.
“I was only going to say that you are looking splendid, Miss Hartington,” said Dudley then. “Quite magnificent, in fact.”
“Oh, that is all Lady Fanshawe’s doing. She is very concerned with clothes and, and that sort of thing. I should prefer my old familiar gowns.” Aggie excused this half-truth by telling herself that she did often miss her former quiet life.
“Really?” Mr. Dudley’s face brightened a bit.
“Yes. I, I get so tired of the city, and of going out every night. My sisters enjoy it, of course. I came to town mainly for them. But I shall be very glad when I can return to the country and be done with all this.” She made a vague gesture at the room around them.
“Indeed? Will you indeed?” The gentleman seemed transformed by this confidence.
“Oh, yes.”
There was a pause; then Dudley cleared his throat and said, “Miss Hartington, I should apologize for not calling before you left the Wellfleets’ house. I was, ah, very, ah…”
Summoning all her courage, Aggie put in, “I know why you did not.”
“You do?” He stared.
“Yes, and, and although I think it was very noble, you were mistaken!” This was so bold that she drew in her breath sharply and put a hand to her lips.
But Mr. Dudley did not seem at all shocked. He looked very steadily at her, then, unconscious of the eyes around them, reached for her hand. “I think perhaps I was,” he replied. “And I am sorry for it, though I could not help feeling as I did. I still feel it a little.”
“You mustn’t,” answered Aggie intensely. “It does not matter a whit.” Her deep blue eyes met his.
“No?” Mr. Dudley smiled down at her; then some noise made him aware of the crowd around them and he let go of her hand. “This is no place to talk privately. May I call upon you tomorrow? I want particularly to ask you something.”
Aggie’s answering smile was radiant. “Yes, please.”
Their eyes held for another moment, and a clear understanding passed between them. Then Dudley said, “Would you like some lemonade or, ah, something?”
Aggie laughed. “Yes.” He offered his arm, and they strolled toward the dining room together.
Thalia, who had been keeping one eye on her sister from across the floor, sighed audibly. “And that, I hope, is that,” she said to herself.
“What is what?” a deep voice replied.
Thalia started. She had thought she was alone. Indeed, she had been only a moment before, when her companion went to fetch a glass of ratafia. She turned and found James Elguard standing behind her.
“What is what?” he asked again. “You sounded uncommonly pleased about it, whatever it is.”
“I am. But I can’t tell it yet.”
“Ah. I suppose it concerns your sister and that unknown young man with brown hair?”
Thalia looked surprised.
“It wasn’t so difficult to tell that. I saw where you were looking. And I think I know what you can’t tell, so you needn’t worry over it.” He paused briefly. “Did you enjoy the music?”
Still a little startled at his divining of her thoughts, Thalia stammered, “Uh, yes.”
“Really? I didn’t. I had far too much to think about to pay any heed.”
“Did you?”
“Yes. And I mean to tell you what it was, even though you don’t ask.” He looked into her eyes, and Thalia’s heart beat rather faster.
But before he could speak again, they were interrupted. “Mr. Elguard,” said Lady Agnes Crewe caressingly, “how lovely to see you again.” She came up behind them and took his arm. “I was so dull only a moment ago, and now here you are to amuse me.” Her glance flicked over Thalia. “Hullo, Miss Hartington.”
Thalia nodded, wishing she could slap Lady Agnes’s impudent face.
But the younger girl was gazing meltingly up at James Elguard and saying, “I was just longing for some lemonade, too. Why don’t we go and get some supper? I should so like to talk to you about, oh, everything. I met your charming sister last night, and she told me how wonderfully intelligent you are.”
Thalia gritted her teeth.
Elguard slipped his arm out of hers. “You flatter me. And I fear Miss Hartington and I were in the middle of a discussion, so I must beg to be excused.”
The total lack of interest in his tone made Thalia’s eyes glow, but she still said nothing.
“Oh,” answered Lady Agnes sweetly, “I am sure Miss Hartington would release you. She has so many beaus.”
At this, a small sound escaped Thalia. She was immediately furious with herself, because Lady Agnes surely heard it and gloated.
“Nonetheless,” replied Elguard stiffly, “I should prefer to continue our discussion.”
Thwarted, the blond girl looked at him. Their gaze locked for a moment; then she shrugged slightly and said, “Oh, very well.” She started to turn away, but threw a flirtatious glance over her shoulder. “Perhaps we can have a ‘discussion’ later on.”
James Elguard made an almost inaudible sound of exasperation, and Lady Agnes walked away. “That girl is abominable,” added the man.
Thalia was almost too angry to speak. “Look, she is going over to Alan Warrington. Mary Deming is talking to him, but that will not last. Oh, I could just—”
“What difference can it make?” interrupted her companion. “No doubt Warrington will discover what she really is soon enough. But we have more important things—”
“Will he indeed?” retorted Thalia. “Only look at him.”
Impatiently, Elguard did so. He saw a young man besotted, a triumphant interloper, and a slender miserable third, Mary Deming. “It is too bad, to be sure. But as there is nothing we can do, I do not see—”
“Oh, I am determined to do something. Mary is my friend, and I don’t mean to see her made unhappy because she is too shy and young Warrington too silly to know Lady Agnes’s true nature.”
“Look here, Miss Hartington,” replied Elguard, so insistently that Thalia had to turn back to him. “I want to talk to you, about something rather important.”
A bit nervous, Thalia said, “It will have to wait. I can think of nothing but Lady Agnes’s monstrous conduct now.”
“The deuce!”
Thalia stiffened. “I must help my friend, and if you don’t care for that, well, then…”
“No, no, I understand your feelings.” He sighed, then considered a moment “Look here, if I help you, will you listen to me then?”
“Help me?”
“Yes, help show up Lady Agnes as she really is. Warrington would be a fool to care anything about her after that.”
Thalia stared up at him. “Would you… would you do that?”
“Why not? It’s a worthy undertaking. And I want to help you.” He smiled. “That most of all.”
“But how can we…?”
“Leave that to me. I shall think of some scheme.”
“Will you?”
“Of course. You must allow me a little time to think, however. I cannot pull ideas out of thin air all in a moment.”
“But that you would.” Thalia gazed up at him with a new look, and James Elguard smiled again. This was more like it.
“I care about fairness too, you know. And I must say that Lady Agnes’s style of conversation has given me a pronounced aversion to her.”
Thalia laughed.
“So, I will think of a way, and tell you
tomorrow.”
“Oh, yes. Thank you.”
“A pleasure.” He looked at her closely and seemed to come to a decision. “Would you like some lemonade? Or perhaps a bit of supper?”
“Yes, thank you.” Thalia took his arm, and they walked off together, the gentleman looking more pleased than he had all evening.
***
There was another musical program planned for after supper, and as the hostess began to shepherd her guests toward the chairs once more, several gentlemen were seen to slip out of the room. Among them was Lord Fanshawe, who had come late and shown little enjoyment of the entertainment. “Fanshawe,” said another man, following him out, “what about a hand of piquet? I understand there is a card room hidden somewhere in this house.”
Lord Fanshawe shook his head. “I mean to go back when the soprano finishes.”
“Indeed?” The other man, a tall sardonic buck, looked at him with a smile. “But I had forgotten. It’s said that you are pursuing one of your mother’s ingenues. It’s a sign of senility, you know, Fanshawe, sinking to the schoolroom.”
The earl, who had stiffened, now shrugged. “So I have heard. I don’t believe I’ve reached that state yet, however.”
“No? Yet I understand she’s a taking little piece. Better men than we have fallen before wide blue eyes. Beware, Fanshawe, the ton is avid to see you stumble.”
The earl merely gave him a brief haughty look from under lowered eyelids and excused himself to go back into the drawing room. His companion laughed shortly and pulled out an enameled snuffbox.
When the second musical interval ended, the guests began to take their leave. The Hartington sisters were following Lady Fanshawe into the hall when she stopped to speak to her son and commanded him to escort her to her carriage.
“Did you enjoy the music?” Euphie asked him as they walked.
“Yes,” he replied coolly.
“I thought the soprano rather off.”
He shrugged, and Euphie looked up at him in perplexity. What had happened to make him so cold?
There was some confusion when they reached the front door. Lady Fanshawe’s carriage, supposedly summoned quite ten minutes ago, had not come round, and they had to wait while a footman went to find it. The countess was tired, and sank down in a chair. Aggie was lost in a dream, and Thalia seemed little better, so Euphie and Lord Fanshawe were left to each other. The girl ventured another comment on the program, but receiving a bored reply, she fell silent. All her enjoyment seemed suddenly to evaporate.
The silence lengthened until Euphie could endure it no longer. “You look terribly bored,” she said to Lord Fanshawe.
Some other guests went out behind them as he looked down. His expression was unrevealing. “Do I? I beg pardon.”
She frowned at him. “You hardly spoke to us tonight,” she blurted. Then, appalled at herself, she shut her mouth with a snap and flushed bright red.
A muscle at the corner of the earl’s mouth jerked, but another group of guests crossed the hall at that moment, and he answered merely, “Did I not? I must beg pardon again, then.”
Cruelly embarrassed, Euphie turned away. “Not at all,” she murmured. To her intense relief, the carriage finally appeared at this moment, and they all moved to get in. Lord Fanshawe bade them all good night uninterestedly and turned away.
Twenty-four
As he had promised, James Elguard called betimes the following morning and asked for Thalia. There was some confusion on his arrival, for Aggie came hurrying down to the hall at the first ring of the bell. But when she saw who it was, she retreated again, passing Thalia on the stairs without a word.
Both Thalia and Elguard watched her retreat. “I hope I haven’t come at an inconvenient time,” said the latter.
“Oh, no. I believe my sister is expecting someone else, that is all.” Thalia smiled to herself.
“Ah.”
“Come into the library. I can hardly wait to hear if you have an idea.”
They walked across the hall and into this room. Thalia shut the door and faced him. “Well?”
“Well, I have a scheme. You must tell me what you think of it.” And he proceeded to explain at some length. “You understand I won’t draw her out,” he finished. “That would be despicable. But I doubt it will be necessary.”
Thalia nodded. “But do you think it will do? Will Alan Warrington see?”
“If he does not, then your friend is mistaken in his character, and she should try to forget him as soon as may be.”
“Yes, I suppose you are right. Still…”
“If you have some better plan, or any modifications to suggest, I am only too willing to hear.”
“No, I don’t.” Thalia looked up. “This must work. It is a good idea.” She smiled. “And I do thank you for making this effort, and for a girl you don’t even know. It’s splendid.”
“I am not doing it for a girl I don’t know, charming as Miss Deming may be. I think you know that.”
“Yes, well… let us go over it all again, so that I am certain of what I must do.”
He looked at her with a slight frown, then nodded. “All right.”
They went over the scheme several times, trying to find flaws and correct them. After half an hour, both were satisfied. “Splendid,” said Thalia heartily again. She rose and held out her hand. “I shall see you tonight, then, and we will do the thing.”
Elguard took her hand, started to speak, then changed his mind. He nodded.
“Good-bye,” said Thalia quickly. “And thank you again.”
Smiling a little, he took his leave. Thalia ran back upstairs wondering what was the matter with her, and why things that she did not at all mean to say kept coming from her mouth.
About an hour later, at midmorning, the bell rang again, and Jenkins ushered John Dudley into the house. He asked for Aggie and, when invited to step up to the drawing room where the young ladies were sitting, refused incoherently. Jenkins eyed his nervous expression, then smiled benignly and took him to the library. “I shall see if Miss Hartington can come down,” he said.
She could. Indeed, the butler found her lingering on the upper landing, afraid to come down again but longing to know who had called. When he told her, her answering smile was so radiant that Jenkins smiled back. “I’ve put him in the library, miss,” he added. “You’ll find him there.”
“Thank you. Oh, thank you,” said Aggie, and she nearly ran down the stairs.
In the hall she paused a moment, running a hand through her russet curls and glancing in the mirror. She wore a dress of white muslin trimmed with blue ribbons this morning, and excitement had made her cheeks glow. She walked to the library and went in. Dudley stood before the fireplace looking uneasy.
At first, he only stared at her. He seemed struck speechless by her eager beauty. Then she said hello, and he muttered something in reply.
“Shall we sit down?” said Aggie, doing so.
He took the opposite armchair and continued to look at her. “You are so lovely,” he said after a pause. “I am never prepared for it somehow.”
Aggie blushed with pleasure.
“You deserve a setting like this,” he continued, gesturing around at Lady Fanshawe’s opulent room. “And parties and lots of admirers. I almost didn’t come today; my nerve nearly failed.” He smiled wryly.
“But I told you…”
“Yes, yes, I know what you said. I even flatter myself that I know what you meant. But did you?” She started to answer, but he held up a hand for silence. “You’ve only been in London a few weeks, you know. And you came with perhaps a, er, fixed idea in your head. I’ve talked with Anne Wellfleet, and she says… well, never mind. The thing is, you have to give town life a chance. You might find you like it very well, you know, and then…” He made a helpless gesture, and stopped.
Aggie had recovered her self-possession as he spoke, and now she looked at him steadily. “So I might,” she replied evenly.
&nbs
p; He stared at her, looking half desperate.
“Do you hate being in London, Mr. Dudley?”
“I? Why, why, no. That is, I enjoy it occasionally. Coming up to see a friend or two, going to the theater.”
Aggie nodded. “Yes. That is exactly what I think I should like myself. To live in the country and to come up to town sometimes.”
He shook his head. “Perhaps you think so now. But you are so young; you may change your mind. And with your fortune, you should be free to do as you wish.”
Aggie rose majestically. “If you came today only to criticize me, Mr. Dudley, then we needn’t continue this conversation, I think.”
“Criticize?” He gaped.
“Indeed. Clearly you think me both frivolous and silly, unable to make up my own mind about what I like and do not like. I wonder that you care to talk with such a ninnyhammer as you believe me to be.”
“Never! I did not mean that.”
Aggie raised her eyebrows. “Indeed? Well, I admit I am glad, for though I may be young, I have never had any difficulty deciding what I like. My sisters could tell you so. I haven’t their talents, but I have a great deal of common sense, and I believe I know myself quite as well as anyone could wish to.”
“I didn’t mean…” repeated Dudley, “that is, I am sorry.”
Aggie sat down again, shrugging slightly.
He watched her for a moment, then blurted, “Can’t you understand how I feel about all this?”
Aggie raised her blue eyes to his. “In a way, I do,” she answered, not attempting to pretend she didn’t know what he meant. “But in another, I don’t. My fortune should make no difference, it seems to me. I am the same.”
“No difference! Why, you may have your choice of… of anything.”
“And, given that, it seems to you that my choice must be different? I disagree.”
He leaned forward and took both her hands. “But, Miss Hartington, Aggie, don’t you see? You must take the time to see everything. You had seen so little before; now you must make certain. I meant to wait, until the end of the season perhaps, and then come to see… but I couldn’t stay away. It was torture. Every night, I would wonder if perhaps you had met someone else. I pictured the balls, the parties…”
