by Rose Gordon
Andrew immediately jumped up, ignoring what he could have sworn sounded distinctly like a dog’s bark, and rushed over to them. “Are you all right?” he asked, trying to help Madison off the floor. To his amazement, he realized they were both laughing. Madison was laughing so hard her body was shaking and Liberty was letting off peals of hysterical laughter, and so were their parents. Apparently everyone in the room, except for him, understood what had just happened. They were all laughing, everyone but Brooke. Brooke’s face had taken on the reddest shade he had yet seen, and she looked almost on the verge of tears. What in the world was going on here?
“We’re fine! We’re fine!” Madison fairly shouted.
“It was all part of the act,” Liberty said in between bursts of giggles.
“All right, I suppose I’m the only one who missed that. What exactly was that act from?” He sincerely wanted to know, too. He knew that in charades you acted out a popular play, book or poem, but he had no idea what this specific act was from, or why it would have such an ill effect on Brooke.
“It’s Brooke!” Liberty squealed.
“What’s Brooke?” Andrew asked, looking back at Brooke who looked stricken.
“The act is about Brooke,” Mrs. Banks clarified for a dumbfounded Andrew. “It was one of Brooke’s first balls in New York. Prince Nikolai from Russia was visiting and had asked Brooke to dance with him. Before the dance started, Mrs. Clemmens gave Mopsy, her dreadful poodle that she took everywhere, to a footman to take him outside for a little walk. The footman lost hold of the dog and it ran onto the dance floor. A few minutes later Brooke lost her balance and fell to the ground, bringing the prince with her. As if that didn’t attract enough attention, she really got full attention when Mopsy started barking and came scrambling out of Brooke’s skirt.”
The whole room erupted in laughter again.
Andrew swung his gaze to Brooke. She didn’t even have a slight smile. Her face was still bright red and her lower lip was trembling. Her hands shook violently in her lap. She had clamped them into two fists, squeezed so tightly her knuckles were going white and her fingernails were digging so hard into her palms he wouldn’t be surprised if in a moment there would be a trickle of red running down her palms. She was clearly embarrassed. What he couldn’t figure out if she was embarrassed that it happened or that it was being told to a suitor.
He walked back across the room and sat down next to her again. The rest of the family was caught up reliving the story, laughing and congratulating each other on a scene well done. Andrew decided they were too distracted to notice the two of them, so he picked up one of Brooke’s hands. He uncurled her fingers and with his thumb, then rubbed her palm where she had left four half-moon shaped marks from squeezing so tightly. A minute later he felt her hand begin to relax. “We’ve all had our moments. Some of them are worse than others,” he told her soothingly, giving her hand a friendly squeeze.
“It seems my family loves to relive mine,” Brooke said very quietly through trembling lips.
Her face was still red and her eyes looked watery, but he saw no actual tears. He truly felt bad about what was happening and his heart went out to her, but he didn’t believe her family had done it with the intent to upset her so much. “You know they only did that because they love you.”
Brooke shrugged.
“It’s true. I may not know your family very well, but from what I’ve seen they love you very much. I would be willing to bet my whole fortune, which is just slightly more than forty pounds, that not only do they love you, but I think Liberty and Madison are envious it was you, and not either of them, who got to give Prince Nikolai an American experience he’ll never forget.”
Brooke cracked a smile. A moment of silence passed before she spoke. “I just wish they hadn’t decided to act that particular scene out in front of company. It makes me look like an absolute idiot.”
Andrew chucked. “It wasn’t your fault, you know. And trust me it could have been worse. Knowing you just the little that I do, I would imagine this incident is probably far from the most humiliating thing that has ever happened to you.”
They hadn’t realized anyone was paying attention to them until Liberty laughingly said, “You’d be right on that score, my lord. She has quite rightly earned her nickname, Muddles. Why when she was fifteen, we had this tutor she didn’t like, Miss Peters was her name, anyway—”
Andrew cut her off by sending her an icy glare that caused her tongue to freeze on the spot. He’d felt Brooke’s whole body tense next to him and knew whatever was coming next was not something she’d care to have him hear.
“Perhaps we should play something else?” Mrs. Banks hedged.
“Perhaps we should all call it a night,” Mr. Banks suggested, creating an easy escape for Andrew.
“Indeed,” Andrew replied, giving a thankful look to Mr. Banks. “It has been the most pleasant evening. I have enjoyed your hospitality.” Then turning to Brooke he asked, “Would you be interested in joining me at the British Museum day after tomorrow?”
“That would be lovely,” Brooke murmured.
Andrew bowed to the family and made his exit.
“I shall retire now,” Brooke announced after Andrew was gone and she had recovered a shred of her dignity.
Without waiting for a response from the others, she walked from the room as fast as her slippers would carry her.
“I would say the evening was a success,” Carolina chirped.
“How would you define success, Carolina?” John asked.
“Brooke has secured another outing with the earl. I think that makes it a success,” Carolina declared.
“That’s true, but she also ended her evening thoroughly embarrassed and near tears,” John added solemnly.
“Pooh,” Liberty intoned. “It was just a silly act. We didn’t make anything up, it really happened. What is there to be embarrassed about? We all know it wasn’t even her fault it happened.”
“Perhaps it’s that she had one of her most humiliating moments put on display in front of a gentleman,” John thought aloud.
“Oh, do be serious, John. Brooke found it just as humorous when it happened as everyone else did. She even went around for weeks telling anyone within earshot about the incident. That includes the countless number of suitors she had back in New York.” Carolina paused. “I even heard her recount the story just last fall to that Davis boy we all thought she’d marry. They both found it highly amusing.”
“Perhaps this time it’s different. Mayhap she has stronger feelings for this one,” John said, concern filling his voice.
Chapter 8
Andrew wondered when his life had turned into a giant game. The worst part was he didn’t know what piece in the game he was playing: the pawn or the master manipulator. It all depended on which other players were present at the time. For now, he was going to play the manipulator, again.
Andrew had been searching for his friend Alex Banks for more than an hour before he finally found him at his club, sitting at a table and reading a newspaper.
“Alex,” Andrew called to his friend, catching his attention.
“Ho there, old chap,” Alex countered.
Alex really was a good sort, even if he did talk, and act, like a simpleton at times. He was highly intelligent, but he often missed the obvious, especially when it was staring him in the face.
They’d vaguely known each other at Eton. But Andrew’s friendship with Benjamin at the time came at a cost: Benjamin selected his friends for him.
At Cambridge things changed. By that time he no longer felt obligated to be friends with Benjamin (who didn’t even attend University), Andrew made his own friends, one of which was Alex.
After school, they'd continued to be friends. They traveled together for a while at first, then came back to London and stepped into their roles, Andrew as an earl and Alex a mere mister who was the heir to his father’s barony.
Andrew took a seat at the table where A
lex was reading his newspaper. “I heard your father is throwing a house party.” No point in beating around the bush.
Alex didn’t even bat an eyelash at Andrew’s obvious angling for an invitation. “You heard right. Are you looking for an invitation, Andrew?” At Andrew’s nod Alex remarked, “This is a respectable party, Andrew, there will be no skirt chasing, clear?”
Andrew swallowed hard before nodding again.
“I knew I didn’t have to worry about you. You have never been a despoiler of innocents, but I do have some cousins that will be there so I just had to make sure you understood.”
Andrew felt those words like a punch to the gut. He now realized that he was going to lose even more than he initially thought when this was all over. The few friends he had now would also be gone forever, Alex included. Alex was not likely to forgive a man who deliberately hurt a member of his family, particularly ruining an innocent young lady.
“No worries there,” Andrew said roughly. “I’m just looking for something to do for a while. If I meet a woman that I want to make my countess, well, it will just be good luck on my part,” he added jovially.
Alex eyed him skeptically, then snorted. “You had me going there for a minute, you finding a countess, that’s rich.”
Andrew stiffened. “What does that mean?”
“Oh, don’t get all worked up. It meant nothing really. It’s just that you are a bachelor. Always have been, always will be,” Alex said with a shrug.
It wouldn’t do for Andrew to contradict this. If Alex thought he was a lifelong bachelor then he wouldn’t be concerned overmuch with Andrew being in Brooke’s company.
“You’re right, I am not the marrying kind,” Andrew agreed. “I had better be off.”
Andrew picked up his hat and departed. Walking home he couldn’t help but think about how well things were going for him. Pieces were moving into place better than he would have imagined. If only he could get past his guilt, then everything would be perfect.
***
Benjamin Collins, Duke of Gateway, stared at his guest. It wasn’t usual for her to visit, but he typically welcomed it all the same. “What brings you here today, Lizzie?” he asked, his voice lacking any emotion.
He was glad to see her. She’d once been the closest person in the world to him, but when she ended things, for reasons he didn’t understand at the time, he had taken steps to hurt her and the only other person in the world she loved, her son.
Though their separation hadn’t lasted long, he’d always been careful not to become too close again.
One reason he’d kept his distance was he didn’t want to accidentally mention that he was the cause of the pain for her and her son. Occasionally, he’d feel a little guilt about it when she spoke of her son and had that distant look in her eyes, but he’d never actually been able to openly admit neither his part nor his guilt about it. At the time, he felt his actions were justified because of the pain she’d caused him.
At one point he’d even tried to fix everything in a way that would not expose his part. But that eventually led to more problems, so he washed his hands of it and felt no guilt because at least he’d tried.
“To see you, of course,” she replied cheerfully.
“To see me? Why would you want to do that?” Benjamin asked, taking a seat in a chair near her.
Lizzie smiled. “Why, because you are one of my two favorite people of course. And since you don’t respond to my correspondence.” She gave a speaking glance over to where some letters were stacked on the corner of his desk. “I thought I would come and inquire about your welfare personally.”
Benjamin gave her a thin smile. He’d never been one for writing letters, and she knew it. At one time he would have dearly loved to have a letter from her. He had actually longed for one and would have written her back immediately. But not now, maybe this was his underhanded way of punishing her for not sending him one when he craved one so badly.
“I am doing well,” he said flatly. “You?”
“The same as always,” she said with a watery smile.
They were both quiet for a few minutes. Benjamin had never been much a conversationalist and Lizzie didn’t speak much unless she had something to say, or was forced to talk.
“Are you planning to attend the Watson house party next week?” Lizzie asked, breaking the silence. Noticing his scowl, she tried a different approach. “I hear they have some American relations who are also to be in attendance.” She wagged her eyebrows suggestively at him.
He chose to ignore Lizzie’s clear attempt at matchmaking. “I will not be attending,” he said simply as if to end the discussion.
Lizzie broke into a wide grin. “Why, Benjamin, I thought you had a tendre for the oldest daughter. I did read your name linked to hers in a scandal sheet no more than three days ago. What’s wrong, Benny, was the waltz not close enough for you?” she thrilled.
Benjamin grimaced at her words. He knew she was just having her fun, even if it was at his expense. He wasn’t going to ruin it for her though. He knew better than anyone that fun was something Lizzie had very little of in her life. He thought back to the night she was talking about with a crystal clear memory. Brooke Banks had made such a fool of him, and worst of all, he’d let her.
“Maybe I will go to the party after all. Something interesting always seems to happen at house parties. I wouldn’t want to miss something. Will you be going?”
“You mean do I plan to willingly surround myself with a bunch of gossiping old dowagers with fire pokers up their arses? The answer is no.” Lizzie’s voice was full of conviction.
Gateway couldn’t help but smile, leave it to Lizzie to be so blunt. He could always count on her to be completely blunt and honest with him. It is probably why they had stayed so close over the years; they both hated society and their rules and neither of them gave a thought to what others thought of them for it.
Chapter 9
Brooke always thought she had the perfect mother. As a child, Brooke remembered her mother taking the girls on walks or to play in a nearby park. Even with three girls, Mama had never hired a nanny. Mama had taken care to make sure her daughters were dressed to the height of fashion. She had interviewed dozens of tutors to find the most intelligent and disciplined one to teach her daughters. As her girls got older she introduced them to social circles, and instructed them on the most valuable points to finding a good husband, like hers.
But even with all of Mama’s instructions Brooke still doubted she would truly capture the attentions of such a lofty man as the earl. And yet, he seemed to be courting her.
In preparation for their outing today she was reading a tome on British history so not to appear completely unintelligent in front of the earl at the museum.
Meanwhile, Mama was quietly sitting beside her on the pink settee. She had no book in her hands. She had no embroidery in her hands. She had no sewing in her hands. Instead, she had empty hands and a wistful smile on her face.
“You look like a lovesick debutante,” Brooke told her mother, looking up from her book.
“Well, I cannot help it that I’m so happy. I mean how many other women can go around saying their daughter will soon be a countess?” Mama squealed with delight.
“You do not know that you can even go around saying that. We are not betrothed after all,” Brooke remarked, taking all the wind out of Mama’s sails.
Mama quickly rebounded though. “Poppycock, you know the earl has his sights set on you. He basically declared his love to you in front of all the family at dinner. And,” Mama added, “his words to Papa seemed to indicate that he is most serious about you. If that isn’t enough to convince you, he asked you to accompany him to the museum today. I think that clearly indicates his interest in you.”
“Maybe he asked me to go because he felt bad for me after I was so clearly embarrassed in front of him,” Brooke parried.
“Stop being silly. The man has a sincere interest in you. I still don't
understand how you could have been so humiliated by that silly little act. You have never been that embarrassed about the incident before, so why now?”
“I don’t know. I just felt like they were doing it to be cruel,” she said with a shrug.
“His lordship, the Earl of Townson,” Turner announced, opening the door to the drawing room, keeping Mama from countering Brooke’s remark.
Brooke and Mama stood and curtsied to the earl and he bowed. Brooke noticed he bowed much lower than necessary. Maybe he did fancy her after all.
“Are you ladies ready to be off, then?” Andrew asked cordially.
“Yes, my lord, let me grab my shawl,” Mama answered as Brooke walked over to the earl.
The trio was almost to the front door when suddenly the door swung open to reveal a disappointed Madison.
“Why are you not at the sewing circle?” Mama asked her.
“Mrs. Ingram is ill and our meeting was cancelled,” Madison said glumly.
Brooke felt genuine sympathy for Madison. She had no real joy in her life, except sewing. She had fun with her sisters but her real enjoyment came from helping others, which she did in the form of sewing for the less fortunate.
“We’re on our way to the British Museum. Would you like to come along with us?” Andrew asked Madison.
“Are you certain that I won’t be intruding?” Madison asked shyly.
“No, I’m not certain that you won’t be intruding, but I’m certain it will be a nice intrusion,” Andrew replied.
Brooke’s heart skipped a beat. He was being so nice to Madison and without being prompted to. It would have been rude for her or Mama to invite her, but he just did it on his own. Most people easily dismissed Madison. But not Andrew. He'd been kinder to Madison than she’d seen any man ever be. Brooke could have kissed him for it.
Mama linked arms with Madison and together the four of them walked to Andrew’s carriage.
