A Grand Deception

by Shirley Marks

  "Allow me a closer study, if you will." Sir Samuel graciously offered his arm, and they moved forward along the path.

  "Ouch!" Freddie winced when Muriel took hold of his arm rather forcefully. "Do take care, will you? Nearly shredded the sleeve, and it's new."

  The forest-green jacket fit him exceptionally well. His buff inexpressables gave the illusion his lower limbs were much longer than they actually were. He cut a figure of which any Corinthian would be proud. At the moment, however, Muriel had a rather unladylike opinion of him.

  "I do not believe I have remarked on your lovely carriage dress, my dear." Freddie widened his eyes and made a show of amazement regarding Muriel's military-style redingote. "What color is that?"

  "It's called Verona blue, and it is new." She knew he had no interest in the hue of her garment whatsoever. Muriel did not wish to share his company either. Her simmering anger necessitated that she say something truly horrid to him. "It would look dreadful on you, far too unflattering for your light brown locks."

  "The sun tends to fade my hair in the summer, but I vow, I could manage that hue in the winter, when my hair darkens nearly to the color or yours." Freddie slowed their progress, whether from his exertion of verbal sparring with his sibling-which she was under the distinct impression he could manage to do and walk at the same time-or that he had another reason for wanting to lag farther behind Susan and Sir Samuel, Muriel could not be certain.

  "Sukey is right: your charms are quite ineffective, and your wits have gone begging!" If her brother thought she should behave in any other than an unkind manner toward him, he was thoroughly mistaken. Muriel was still quite vexed at his refusal to help her find Sherwin.

  Lady Maria Greenfield and Mr. Thomas Hollensby, who were at that time passing the siblings, joined Freddie's laughter, which Muriel suspected was not from their finding a shared humor as much as identifying her brother as the joke. It was a sentiment on which she would agree.

  "I certainly hope this is not the response I receive from every female in Town." He'd stopped chuckling and put on a show of mock devastation.

  "Lady Maria and I hardly count as every female. If you were practiced in simple arithmetic, you could quickly calculate that we are only two."

  Freddie's pace slowed further, while Sir Samuel and Susan's lead grew larger. A lull in the oncoming foot traffic gave them a few minutes' privacy.

  "Why are we strolling through the Park? Why can we not drive through and be done with the whole wretched business?" Muriel scolded him.

  "Because, my dear Moo, you desperately need a distraction. Even though you may consider this task tedious, it removes you from the town house and, for a time, relieves you of some of your constant worry over Amhurst's absence." Freddie spoke without any humorous tone. "It does you no good, Moo. I'm sure the exercise and air cannot harm you in the least."

  Her fingers dug into his arm to hold herself upright. The truth in what he said weakened her resolve to display an unwavering facade. The others around her might not have seen any difference in her behavior, but it seemed she hadn't fooled her brother. Muriel didn't know if she could stand on her own any longer. "I do not think I can bear being seen in public. I cannot pretend to enjoy myself, not without knowing that Sherwin- It is a facade I am unable to maintain."

  "You must endure, sister." Freddie placed his hand over hers as if the action would lend her strength. "I've thought quite a bit about what you last said to me. So I made a few inquiries and found some men to check into Amhurst's disappearance."

  "Oh, thank you, Freddie!" Tears of relief sprang to Muriel's eyes that something was finally being done to locate Sherwin.

  "Now, now, no waterworks, please. My ego's taken enough of a blow from you, Sukey, and Lady Maria. Don't let it be known I've done you a kindness. I don't need my reputation to be tarnished as well."

  The front door opened at 4 Tavistock Road. The kind soul who had relayed Sherwin to the address had insisted on having his ivory waistcoat as well. Shivering in only his shirtsleeves, trousers, and boots, Sherwin did not speak but was recognized immediately.

  "It's'a me, Giorgio, Mista Lloyd." The servant opened the door wide and welcomed Sherwin inside. He called out to someone, "Dica it padrone. "

  Sherwin followed Giorgio to the front parlor, where the hearth fire warmed the room, and, truth be told, warmed his worn, travel-weary bones.

  "Please, you must sit. Please, sit." Giorgio motioned to a chair near the fire. "The Signore, he prossimo qui-soon come now."

  "Thank you, Giorgio." As Sherwin moved toward the hearth, he felt the physical as well as emotional toll of his journey weighing heavily upon his shoulders. The relief of being surrounded by something familiar and comforting was welcoming beyond words.

  "Ah, buon-" Signore Biondi stood at the doorway. His normal jubilant greeting vanished, replaced by an angry tone, "No, no, how is this possible, you arrive here half-naked? Giorgio, go quickly-prendere it mio abito."

  The Latin tutor shrugged out of the maroon velvet banyon and slipped it onto Sherwin, drawing it over his shoulders. Sherwin felt the residual warmth seep into his arms, the outside of his legs, and across his back.

  After seeing Sherwin settled comfortably into a chair, Signore Biondi stepped away, poured some dark liquid from an ornately cut glass container into a small glass, and offered it to him. "Drink this, eh?"

  Sherwin accepted the glass, though he eyed it suspiciously. He could barely bring himself to swallow the contents. It burned from his throat all the way to his stomach, lending not much comfort, but it managed to warm his insides.

  "Che cosy-what has happened to you?" Signore Biondi paced the length of the room, stopping for a moment when Giorgio returned with another banyon. This one was identical to the first, except dark blue in color. "Where are your clothes? How do you come to be like this?"

  "I did what was needed to return to London-to Muriella Signorina." Sherwin straightened the fingers of his clenched hand, revealing his lover's eye. "All that matters is that I am here, Signore. I had thought you might help me"

  "Of course, of course." Signore Biondi's sympathetic voice soothed and reassured Sherwin that his decision to come there had been the right one.

  "I think I need to contact Muriel's brother, the Earl of Brent," Sherwin put forth, his fatigue compromising his ability to reason the obvious.

  "At once. Giorgio!" The Signore snapped his fingers.

  Paper, quill, and ink arrived upon a small table next to Sherwin's chair. He eagerly took up the quill, dipped it into the ink, and made the first stroke upon the paper, then stopped.

  "I cannot see properly to-"

  "Ah, yes, dimenticato-I forget, perdona. I forget, you cannot see. Allow me to write your letter for you." Signore Biondi relieved Sherwin of the inked quill and, with the paper, removed to a writing desk in a corner of the room. "What is it you wish to tell him?"

  Sherwin began to dictate, explaining his whereabouts, his circumstance, and asking for Freddie's assistance. Signore Biondi read the missive back to Sherwin, making certain it contained everything the Earl would need to know as well as the urgency of the situation.

  Signore Biondi snapped his fingers. "Giorgio, have Marcello deliver this." He handed it to his trusted servant. "Tell him it is to go the same place-he knows where."

  Muriel stared into her dressing table mirror and could not believe she would really be returning to Almack's. One week ago Sherwin had stood in the middle of the assembly rooms and called out her name-Moo. Now she had no idea where he was.

  "Look at you, Lady Muriel." A very pleased Lydia toyed with one of Muriel's curls, trying to get it to lie just right. "I can't believe you haven't entertained a single offer."

  She wouldn't speak of it to her abigail. She might never speak of it again. The mere thought of her lost engagement might bring on a fresh bout of tears.

  "These embroidered rosebuds on the pale green gauze overdress match perfectly with the ivory satin gown." Ly
dia tucked the very same rosebuds into the hair she'd just styled with the hot tongs.

  But there was no one Muriel cared about to admire them. She then grieved for her beautiful, delicate fan-the one she'd crushed beneath her silk slipper. It was a silly thought, considering her current concern, but how could she have behaved so childishly?

  "You are an absolute vision, Moo." Freddie stood at the doorway to her bedchamber. He cut a fine figure in his eve ping wear: white waistcoat, knee breeches, clocked stock ings, matching black exquisitely tailored jacket, and dancing pumps.

  Muriel indeed felt ethereal, as if she had no substance and did not exist at all.

  Freddie strolled in, and Lydia dipped a curtsy before leaving the two siblings' company.

  "I am glad you will be there with me, Freddie." Muriel stood and took hold of his arm as if it were a lifeline. She wasn't sure how she would survive this night.

  He held her hand firmly in his, resisting her efforts to pull free. "I know I have promised to see you through this evening, but I will not be seeing you to Almack's."

  "What?" Freddie had betrayed her again. Was he to be forever changing his mind and disappointing her?

  He glanced toward the dressing room, making certain Muriel's abigail would not return, and his voice dropped to that of a whisper. "I expect to receive news of the search. I must remain until the messenger arrives."

  "Oh!" Muriel immediately forgave him for his absence and silently apologized for her reckless judgment of his character. She simply could not be responsible for her actions at present. "Then why don't I stay with you? We can both travel to Almack's later together."

  "Aunt Penny won't have it." Freddie wasn't going to tolerate the change of plans either. "If you don't go, she won't go. If she doesn't go, then Father won't bother to travel on his own, so we'll all be here when the messenger arrives, and we can't have that."

  Of course he was right. Muriel, Aunt Penny, and Papa would just be in the way.

  "Then you'll have something to tell me?" Relief spread through her. It had been an eternity since she'd learned of Sherwin's disappearance. This was the first time she'd felt hopeful that some answer might be close at hand. "You promise?"

  "I cannot guarantee that it's good news, but we shall know if our search efforts are in vain." Freddie took hold of Muriel by her shoulders. "Your task is the most difficult of all. It is an onerous role that requires the utmost bravery and courage."

  Her task? So far Muriel had stood by and done nothing, nothing at all.

  "You must be strong and maintain the belief that he will return," Freddie told her. "You must."

  He was right. Muriel knew Freddie was right.

  "If it is in Sherwin's power, if he is able ... I know he will. I have no doubt. It is only . . ." She gazed up at her brother, losing her battle to restrain the tears that finally streaked down her cheeks when she spoke. "Oh, Freddie, what if he cannot?" She brought her hand to her lips and stifled her sob.

  Muriel stepped into the assembly rooms at Almack's. All was as she had remembered-or, rather, what little she had remembered. She hadn't found any of her surroundings memorable in the least.

  Off to one side stood her father, Aunt Penny, Mrs. Wilbanks, and Sir Samuel, all clearly in high humor. Muriel wished she could have shared in their cheer. At the moment she thought she'd never feel happy again. The best she could hope for was encouraging news about Sherwin, and she allowed that optimistic thought to sustain her.

  "Lady Muriel!" Lady Amelia Whipple approached.

  "Good evening, Lady Amelia." Muriel had to think of something to say to her to prevent the topic of Sherwin's disappearance surfacing. "Have you seen my cousin Constance? I cannot think she would miss the assembly."

  "No, I am positive she is to attend." Lady Amelia nibbled on her lower lip. "I do not think she will be at all happy with the news I've just heard."

  "What is it now?" Muriel had to admit she was mildly curious and hoped this on dit had nothing to do with Sherwin. "What have you heard?"

  "Sir Samuel Pruitt is engaged to be married."

  "Engaged to whom?" Muriel was struck wide-eyed. Of course she had known he was about to offer for someone and had suspected it might have been her. Until now she hadn't taken the time to puzzle out who else he might have considered.

  "I have no idea. She's stood up with him a number of times over this last week. I believe she's been out driving with him a time or two as well. And I collect he's sent her some very pretty flowers. Oh, Constance will be quite devastated when she learns of it! " Lady Amelia sniffed, appearing very sympathetic to Constance's plight. "The engagement has not been announced yet, but the news will crush her. She had resolutely set her cap for him after Lord Amhurst's elopement."

  "We do not know that to be true," Muriel replied, maintaining that Sherwin's whispered-about race to Gretna Green had yet to be proven. Perhaps that was the news Freddie would receive tonight, a confirmation or denial of that piece of gossip.

  "Why else would he have gone from Town so quickly?" Lady Amelia did not seem as though she would be easily convinced otherwise, and Muriel had no wish to try.

  "I only caution you not to jump to conclusions. We know nothing of his circumstance. And we know nothing of Sir Samuel's." Muriel glanced back at her aunt and father. They still bubbled with far more joy and laughter than she'd seen in a very, very long time.

  There was such cheer and animation. Something clearly had happened within their family circle. Certain that her father would not have accepted a marriage arrangement on her behalf, Muriel wondered if Lady Amelia had been mistaken. Perhaps Constance would not be crushed by the news of Sir Samuel's engagement because she was the lucky lady who had won his heart.

  Sir Samuel had gone on about her just the other day. How excited he had become when he spoke her name. Could it be? Constance and Sir Samuel? Wouldn't that prove to be a strange turn of events if it were true?

  The stupid notion was not easily banished from her thoughts. No, it simply could not be. Muriel refused to believe it.

  Susan, who appeared absolutely radiant dangling off Sir Samuel's arm, approached Muriel and Lady Amelia.

  "I thought you did not manage to acquire vouchers, Sukey." That is what Muriel remembered from last time, but her question was answered by observing the two of them together. "It's you! You and Sir Samuel are to be married!"

  It was so very clear now. Susan was absolutely glowing with joy.

  "I simply explained to the Patronesses that Miss Wilbanks is to be my bride, Lady Pruitt, before the end of the year." Sir Samuel glanced to Susan, who could not keep from smiling. "Lady Castlereagh issued a guest voucher and welcomed her at once."

  Susan gazed at Sir Samuel with such affection, Muriel wondered how it was she could have missed noticing something so obvious before. But then, she had been so very preoccupied with her own secrets. This news, however, was simply wonderful.

  "Miss Susan Wilbanks?" Lady Amelia uttered in stunned disbelief.

  "It was all rather sudden, really," Susan went on to explain. "All these years I had always thought of him as kind and agreeable. I cannot know how or when our friendship turned into something more. It was all of a sudden ... different between us, though I was afraid the same might not be true for him."

  "It was," Sir Samuel assured his new fiancee. "I cannot believe that she'd been under my nose all this time, and I nearly did not notice her. I could not be happier."

  Muriel felt as if she were fortunate as well. How wonderful it was that her two great friends had found each other. Sir Samuel, wed to Muriel's best friend, would, indeed, be part of the family.

  "His Grace was kind enough to act as intermediary between me and Mr. Wilbanks, arranging the marriage settlement." Sir Samuel quickly returned to the topic of his future bride. "Will she not make the most perfect future duchess?"

  Susan blushed at Sir Samuel's pronouncement, and Muriel could not have agreed more.

  "The Earl of Brent to see yo
u, Excellency." Giorgio stepped into Signore Biondi's small parlor where Sherwin sat and announced the visitor only moments before Freddie entered. He handed the footman the hat and gloves he'd just peeled off and tossed his greatcoat over the servant's arm.

  "Where the devil have you been?" Freddie reached out to take hold of Sherwin's shoulders for a proper scolding but must have thought better of coming in too close. "I have people out looking for you, and Moo's worried sick."

  Sherwin stood to properly greet his friend.

  "Your note said you were in dire circumstances-" Apparently, upon setting eyes upon Sherwin, Freddie understood. "You look dreadful, of man. I had no idea.... "

  "I'm sure it's not half as bad as I've been feeling these last twenty-four hours." Sherwin still hadn't quite recovered. "I am sure I can relay all that has transpired at some later date, but I need to see Muriel. I need to find her, go to her at once. Where is she?"

  Freddie eyed Sherwin. "Not looking like that, you won't. Even with her sturdy constitution, you'd give her a fright."

  Sherwin glanced down at his attire. What remained of his once very fine clothing was ruined beyond repair.

  "Moo's at Almack's-making a poor showing, if I might hazard a guess. She's hasn't been taking your absence well."

  "I am sorry to cause her any distress." Sherwin could well imagine her frantic state of mind. It, most likely, was similar his own.

  "Tell me it's not true what they're saying about you making a dash for Gretna Green with some milk-and-water miss." Freddie, it seemed, needed to know this small detail.

  "No, I daresay, I did not." Sherwin did not wish to delve into just how close he had come to matrimony. "Does Muriel believe the same? I must assure her my affection for her has not altered in the least."

  "You won't make it past Lady Jersey, of man," Freddie intoned with disapproval. "Any of the Almack's Patronesses will block your entry if you're dressed like that. You'll need knee breeches-can't show up in trousers, no matter how fine they're cut." He snapped his fingers. "It occurs to me that Weston's got your measurements. Mayhap he can manage to put together a getup for you."