Twixt Two Equal Armies

by Gail McEwen

  “Well, what do you say . . . Holly?”

  If Lord Baugham had still been planning on making a quick escape, it became impossible now for at Mr Pembroke’s impertinence, Miss Tournier suddenly and instinctively clutched at his arm.

  Speechless, he felt an incredulity bordering on disgust. It was worse than his earlier glimpse of him had ever led him to believe! His prejudices about the manners of young men relying on their father’s blind charity and their own self-importance was once again confirmed as he watched and listened to Mr Pembroke, standing rather too close to Miss Tournier and giving her distinctly patronising looks — and having the nerve to speak to her in such an intimate manner, aiming to give the impression that . . . . He glanced at her and an odd feeling crept into him to see her so obviously upset. Their eyes briefly met and she quickly withdrew her hand from his arm. He cleared his throat as he pulled his eyes away with difficulty and addressed the man who had not even given him more than a glimpse until now.

  “Sir,” he said in a tight voice fixing his cold blue eyes on the offending man, “I do not believe I have had the pleasure. I believe I should introduce myself, since the circumstances in your address are so . . . irregular. My name is Lord Baugham.” He hesitated for a second but then boldly added: “Mrs Tournier and Miss Tournier are good friends of mine. And you are?”

  “Lord Baugham?” Mr Pembroke broke his scrutiny of Miss Tournier for a moment and pulled himself up to his full height, which, unfortunately for him, did not match Lord Baugham’s careless posture. “I am Jonathan Pembroke. Of course I know who you are, sir. Heard of but rarely seen, aren’t you? Well, that explains it, I’m sure. And in view of that, my lord, surely I am not mistaken in presuming that you cannot be too familiar with our Miss Tournier here.” He laughed slightly and rolled back on his heels. “You are neither of you then familiar with the finest local society, which I’m sure, makes taking refuge in each other’s company quite understandable. She, also, is not in the habit of frequenting the best society Clanough has to offer, I’m afraid, but not from lack of trying, I suspect. Some people have no sense of place, or shortage of ambition, it seems.”

  Baugham could not help breaking out into a terse smile.

  “Mr Pembroke. Indeed. You must forgive my presumptuous nature, sir, but you do rather heighten my esteem for Miss Tournier, and any resolution of hers to stay away from such social gatherings. From what I see at present, there is nothing but good sense in such a course.”

  “How droll you are!” Mr Pembroke said while Primrose Tristam’s brow was temporarily clouded over with a frown. “I hesitate to assume, my lord, that you suffer from a lack of discernment, so I must assume that you are either operating in ignorance, or blinded by more . . . personal motives. However, it is of course quite clear that as a mere schoolteacher, Miss Tournier has her connection with my family to thank for the Tristams’ attentions and I am sure her absence from most gatherings is due less to her own resolution than it is to that of the hosts. It is common knowledge here, but, of course, I would not imagine you to have been aware of it. If I were not around, it is very unlikely she would have received any such attention, much less the opportunity to attach herself to such a noble personage as yourself, even if just for the evening. Isn’t that the case, my dear?”

  Baugham frowned and took a step forward, attempting to shield Miss Tournier from the man’s impertinent stare.

  “You are perfectly right,” he interjected, his voice tight and clipped. “I know nothing of Miss Tournier’s local reputation or social ambitions, but in the very short time of our acquaintance I have known her to show much judgement when dealing with folly, impertinence and rudeness, not to mention admirable affection and loyalty to those fortunate enough to earn her friendship. As I can discern that you are in fact, no friend to her, I think I can only esteem her excellent judgement even more highly than before.

  “I suppose you are to be congratulated as well, Mr Pembroke, on how very successfully you are able to demonstrate how one can rise to societal acceptance and claim connections as desirable as those of our hosts this evening without appearing to possess any sort of manners or sense of propriety. Society has always been extraordinary in that regard, bestowing attentions even when they are utterly groundless in terms of merit. I find it, and in turn you, excessively diverting in a perverse sort of way, but I am certain Miss Tournier would advise me against the folly of allowing you to incriminate yourself any longer.”

  Mr Pembroke did not take these observations in good stride and his eyes narrowed further and he seemed to puff himself up in order to answer his lordship while all the time casting glimpses at Miss Tristam by his side. The lady in question looked bored and irritated, which no doubt did not have a beneficiary effect on his next choice of words.

  “It’s a wonder that Miss Tournier doesn’t advise you against incriminating yourself by openly associating with a woman who was dismissed from her place of employment for disgraceful and immoral behaviours.”

  “That really is quite — ” Baugham began, but he was interrupted by Miss Tournier’s gasp of horror.

  “What? How did you . . . who has said such things to you?”

  The fact that Miss Tournier was mortally upset was evident from her rapid breath, her flittering gaze and her fingers pressed to her mouth. Baugham very firmly took hold of her arm, almost yanking her back to his side and executed a slight bow in withdrawing from Mr Pembroke.

  “You forget, my dear Holly,” Pembroke persisted, “that I have many friends and associates in Edinburgh. The news is by no means a secret, no matter how you might try to hide it from your illustrious new acquaintances.” He turned from his lordship’s pale and speechless companion to the man himself. “You must judge for yourself the value of allying yourself with Miss Tournier and her family against the cost to your reputation, but I would surely warn you against it. If you attach yourself to this — well, I’m sure you would find, in doing so, you have most foolishly discarded the possibility for any good and valuable society; however, I am told your stays here are brief, and perhaps you prefer your pleasures to be fleeting and . . . common. If that is the case, my lord, I beg your pardon and wish you a good evening,” he huffed and then stiffly returned the bow before stalking off.

  STUNNED, HOLLY FELT LIKE SHE had just been struck. Her head was spinning, the room was excessively warm, and she was not feeling very steady on her feet. She was grateful for Lord Baugham’s interference and support, but right then she wanted nothing more than to leave. She looked frantically around the room for her mother, but though she had seen her clearly only a few moments before, everything was a blur to her now and she could not find her.

  “I find Mr Pembroke to be quite a ridiculous man,” Lord Baugham slowly said, apparently in no hurry to release her. “I also find myself deeply regretting any doubts I may have expressed when speaking to you about his letter. Perhaps it is a good thing I find him so laughable, for if I were to dwell seriously on his behaviour, I might be forced to resort to illegal measures and demand my satisfaction of him. I make no promises, however, that I will not change my mind at some point and follow up on any murderous impulses.”

  Desperately trying to hide her distress, Holly smiled feebly at his attempt to lighten the mood. He was looking at her intently with his piercing blue eyes and she wished he would leave her alone to calm her breathing and rapidly beating heart that for some reason were not easing, even though Mr Pembroke had gone. Instead he very calmly reclaimed her hand, placed it on his arm and let his own reassuringly rest upon it a few seconds before he slowly led her away from the scene that had caused not a few eyes to turn and watch.

  “Perhaps we should go join your mother,” he said as together they walked in the opposite direction.

  Holly relaxed a bit and found that she was oddly content to lean upon Lord Baugham’s strength for the time being. She was grateful to him. She was grateful that he fought this battle for her; in the one battle that she felt i
ncapable of fighting on her own, he had stepped in and defended her. At that moment she felt that she could call him a true gentleman and she vowed she would show him more charity from now on.

  “Ye ugly, creepin, blastit wonner,” his voice sounded quietly beside her. “Detested, shunn’d by saunt an’ sinner”

  “Robert Burns?” She stifled a gasp of surprise when she heard the lines from her favourite poet. “You like Burns?”

  “Of course I do, Miss Tournier,” his lordship smiled. “And I find the lines that follow are particular favourites of mine: “How daur ye set your fit upon her, Sae fine a lady!”

  Momentarily flustered, she then found herself growing calmer with the realisation that she not only had a gentleman at her side, but maybe even a friend. She felt her heart stop its frantic beating and no longer noticed the curious stares, but as they approached the drawing room and she once again was aware of her surroundings, she stopped him.

  “Please,” she said as she extracted her arm gently. “I think, my lord, I would rather take myself outside for a few moments — for some fresh air — before joining my mother. I thank you for your kindness. You must go on and enjoy the rest of your evening.”

  “A splendid idea,” Lord Baugham declared, “but I will not hear of you going out unaccompanied. I see the windows to the garden are opened. That would be perfect, I think.”

  He once again offered his arm — this time simply holding it out to her and silently waiting for her to accept it, which she finally did. They walked in silence through the crowd of people who were clearing the floor in the anticipation of a dance. She turned a thankful smile upon him as he escorted her into the crisp, cool air of the Tristams’ garden.

  “Perhaps I might claim the privilege of fetching you a glass of wine, Miss Tournier?” he asked quietly.

  Nodding, Holly realised she must relinquish her hold on his arm in order for him to carry out his task, but she was strangely reluctant to do so.

  She did, however, and with a smile Lord Baugham left her standing. She felt strangely bereft even though she had presumed solitude was what she craved most of all at this point. As she stood, watching the breeze swaying the trees, she realised she was waiting impatiently for his return.

  Chapter 12

  Lord Baugham claims privileges and Miss Tournier discovers she is thankful for them

  Baugham left her on the terrace and wandered in search of the promised glass of wine at a leisurely pace. The offer to accompany Miss Tournier to the garden had been automatic and natural, but once he was away from her he wondered at the impulse. What had possessed him to attach himself to a woman in distress and, in particular, this woman with whom he could scarcely hold a civil conversation? Perhaps if he took long enough about his task, she would have time to collect herself and, hopefully, to engage another acquaintance to keep her company. Surely, despite Pembroke’s assertions, she had plenty of friends in attendance. He stood for a moment and weighed his own options: everyone with whom he could claim more than a passing acquaintance was occupied. Darcy and Miss Bennet had joined the dancing; the brilliance in Miss Bennet’s eyes and the smile on Darcy’s face convinced him they were better off enjoying each other than entertaining him. He saw Mrs Tournier speaking with a lady on the sofa, but her hands were flying about and she was so obviously in the middle of a heated conversation that he could not interrupt.

  His lordship could never be accused of being a socially awkward man and, if he had cared to, he could have adopted his carefree London persona, sought out his host and intimated himself into the best company, joining in the frivolity surrounding him, indeed becoming the life of the party. Or, if he was so inclined, he could ask to become acquainted with any of the ladies present, beginning a friendship that could very well lead to . . . but no, Clyne and Scotland were his escape from all that nonsense. So there he was, back where he started, with everyone of his particular acquaintance otherwise occupied — everyone except for the woman waiting in distress alone in the garden. There was nothing for it but to fetch the wine and return to her.

  So, he found himself walking back again with a glass in hand. She was standing just where he had left her: by the open doors with her back turned to the room, which he took as an encouraging sign that she was not desperate to escape him or his assistance. She looked oddly relieved when he returned, but she appeared so agitated and restless standing beside him that he then began to suspect she must share his misgivings. He once again cast a glance into the salon through the opened windows to find some other means of relief for her obvious distress.

  “Lord Baugham, please stay for a moment,” she suddenly blurted out. “I have not had the opportunity to thank you for coming to my aid.” With a little smile she added, “As you can imagine I do not often find myself at a loss for words, and I am more grateful than I can say that you were not.”

  She cleared her throat.

  “And . . . ” Her voice was unsteady but she pressed on regardless, “among those words were some that were very kind to me yet, at least in your case, quite undeserved. You praised my judgement to Mr Pembroke, and we both know that in my dealings with you, that quality, on occasion, has been sorely lacking. I am sorry that this has been so, please forgive my impertinent behaviour.”

  Looking up to him earnestly, she then asked a question obviously most important to her. “Please . . . please do not believe the vile things that he said about me.”

  With that plea, her thin veneer of composure cracked. She turned away as tears she could not control began to stream down her face.

  IT WAS A SURPRISING MOVE on her part in his lordship’s eyes, one that left him dumfounded. Added to the shock of such unexpected behaviour was his own intense discomfort, because there were few things that made him more ill at ease than a woman crying. Somehow he had the presence of mind to hand her a handkerchief and quietly guide her further out to the garden without finding a single comforting word to offer her. They sat just beyond the windows, protected by the darkness of the night. There they would be safe from prying eyes since the dancing continued and the room was filled with music and laughter and steps on the floor. Her shoulders shook quietly and she seemed so alone and vulnerable and utterly desperate. Still he had nothing to say, but his position was very quickly becoming unbearable.

  “Oh please, Miss Tournier” he shot to his feet when his discomfort became too acute. “Please do not cry! Oh, this is terrible. I am so sorry. Please, is there nothing I can do?” She shook her head and buried her face and quietly sobbed more deeply into the white fabric of his handkerchief. Baugham got up in a violent movement and started pacing.

  “Please, Miss Tournier, I know we have not always seen eye to eye, but I would never wish to see you in such pain. I beg of you, disregard Mr Pembroke. I certainly do. He is his own worst enemy and no one could be of any doubt of his character once they spend more than ten minutes in his presence. I know all the blame and fault must lie with him and whatever the accusation is he makes must be groundless. And so must anyone who knows you and your family. Of course I pay no importance whatsoever to his words. To do so would never cross my mind. Please do not distress yourself or ever doubt that.”

  She seemed to have calmed down a little and was silently drying her eyes, stealing what looked like incredulous glances at his restless movements. In the dark it was impossible to see her face clearly or hear if she was still softly sobbing. Baugham drew a breath and ran his hand through his hair.

  “That villain, that fiend! You do realise that I shall now have to run my sword through him after all? It will be a pleasure, I promise you, but I need to assure myself that you will be well before that. Please?”

  He stopped in front of her. When she turned her face toward him again, Lord Baugham was surprised to find her smiling.

  “Thank you for your kind offer,” she said, with a slight sniffling giggle. “I so wish I could take you up on it, but such a man is not worth the trouble you would bring down on yourself f
or the deed.”

  Looking down at her lap as she folded his handkerchief over and over, in a quieter voice she continued. “And thank you for your kind words just now . . . and for not believing him.”

  She straightened her shoulders and he could see her struggle to keep a cheerful expression on her face.

  “I am really quite well now if you wish to go back to the party.”

  Baugham was so relieved that the tears were over he let a grin spread on his face and settled himself opposite her on the balustrade, crossing his arms.

  “I am glad to see you have recovered so well, Miss Tournier. You know, Mr Pembroke is likely to encounter stiff opposition from me if he ever hopes to repeat his performance. I will henceforth jealously protect my interests, for I am quite certain it is my unique privilege to be uncivil and rude to you. I am so very good at it, after all, and will not readily share it with pompous amateurs.”

  This time her smile was less strained, although her big, dark eyes were still soft with recently shed tears.

  “I am quite content to bestow to you the sole right to behave rudely and uncivil towards me,” she replied, “but only if I am given that same right in return. I believe we have both shown our skill and determination to excel in that area, we should both be rewarded, don’t you think?”

  “It would be an honour to be insulted by you at regular intervals, Miss Tournier. I absolutely accept your proposal!”