Miss Winthorpe's Elopement

by Christine Merrill

  Clarissa reached out to her, in what no doubt appeared to the room as a sisterly gesture of warmth, catching both hands in hers. Then she pulled her close, to whisper what would look to observers like a girlish confidence. ‘But if you think it makes any difference to your standing in society, you are wrong.’

  Penny summoned her newfound bravery. ‘My position in society is secure. I am Duchess of Bellston.’

  ‘In name, perhaps. But in reality, you are a trumped-up shop girl. People know the truth, and they can talk of little else this evening.’

  She had heard nothing, and she had been to every corner of the room. It must be a lie, intended to wound her.

  But there was no way to be sure.

  Then she thought of what Will had said, and tossed her head in her best imitation of someone who did not give a jot for what people ‘said’. ‘Let them talk, then. They are most unaccountably rude to be doing so in my home while drinking my wine and eating my food.’

  ‘They are saying nothing more than what your husband has said.’

  It was her worst fear, was it not? That he felt she was beneath him. And she feared it because it was based in truth. Clarissa must have guessed as much or she would not speak so.

  But there was nothing she could do about it now. So she favoured Clarissa with her coldest look, and said nothing.

  ‘He is taking you to Wales, is he? Very good. I heartily approve. You must go home and complete your work which is, no doubt, noble and of much scholarly import.’ The last words were sarcastic, as though Penny’s life goal was so much nonsense.

  ‘But no matter what you mean to do, I doubt that Adam means to stay with you in isolation, if there are other more entertaining opportunities open to him. He will come back to London, or find a reason to go to Bath, or somewhere else.

  ‘And the minute he does, you will know that he is coming to me. He was happy enough before you arrived on the scene. And he is even happier, now that he has your money. He has told us as much. He simply needs to get you out of the way, so that he may spend it in peace.’

  Penny controlled the flinch, for the last words struck as hard as any blow.

  Clarissa continued, ‘Adam is happy. And I am happy with Adam. You have promised to be happy with your books. You have nothing further to add to the discussion, other than regular infusions of gold.’

  Penny struggled to speak. ‘And is Timothy happy?’

  ‘Timothy?’ Clarissa laughed again.

  ‘Yes. Timothy. Your husband.’

  ‘He is glad to see Adam back, for they are great friends.’

  ‘And it must be very handy for you to share such affection for Adam. They are good comrades, are they not? And if you seek to be unfaithful, how handy that it be with your husband’s best friend.’

  Clarissa was unaffected. ‘Why, yes. It is most convenient.’

  ‘Until you get caught at it. And then there will be the devil to pay, Clarissa. The scandal will be enormous.’

  ‘Caught? Caught by whom exactly? Dear me, Penelope. You make it sound as though we are likely to be run down with a pack of hounds. How diverting.’

  ‘Your husband,’ Penelope hissed. ‘You must be mad to think that you can carry on in front of him and remain undiscovered. And if you believe, for one minute, that I will allow you to drag my name, and the name of my husband, through the muck with this public display, you are even more mad. This is my first and final warning to you, Clarissa. Stay away from Adam. Or I will tell Timothy what is going on, and he will put an end to it.’

  Clarissa laughed, and it was no delicate silvery peal of ladylike mirth, but a belly-deep whoop of joy. ‘You mean to tell my husband? About me and Adam? Oh, my dear. My sweet, young innocent. You do not understand at all, do you? My husband already knows.’

  Penny felt her stomach drop and thought with horror that she was likely to be sick on the floor of her own ballroom. What a ludicrous scene that would be. Clarissa, or any of the other ladies of her husband’s acquaintance, would have managed a genteel faint.

  ‘Clarissa, we must dance. You have monopolised our hostess long enough.’ Lord Timothy was standing behind her, and she prayed that he had not heard what his wife had been murmuring, for the situation was quite mortifying enough.

  ‘But I was having such a lovely chat with Penny.’ Clarissa’s voice was honey sweet.

  ‘I can see that.’ Tim’s was ice and steel. ‘She bears the look of one who has experienced one of your chats, darling. Drained of blood, and faint of heart. Remove your claws from her and accompany me.’ He laid a hand on Clarissa’s wrist and squeezed. ‘Or I will pry them loose for you.’

  Clarissa laughed and released her, then turned to the dance floor. ‘Very well, Timothy. Let us dance. So long as it is not a waltz. I am saving the waltzes for someone special.’ Then she walked away as though nothing had happened.

  Penny stood frozen in place, watching her, and felt Tim’s hand upon her shoulder. ‘Are you all right?’ His face was so close to her that his cheek brushed her hair. ‘I will see to it that my wife goes home early. And then we will speak. Until then, do not trouble yourself.’

  She nodded without speaking.

  He eased away from her, passing by to follow his wife. In a tone loud enough to be heard by people passing, he said, ‘Lovely party, your Grace. I never fail to find entertainment on a visit to Bellston.’

  Chapter Fourteen

  Penny closed her eyes, and focused on the sound of the room, rather than the faces of the people in it. She had thought things were going so well. But now, it was impossible to tell friends from enemies. When she was seventeen, the falsehoods and sly derision had come as a surprise. But she knew better now. When she looked closely at those around her, she could see from the strained expressions on the faces of her husband’s friends that she did not fit in.

  And the looks of suspicion, jealousy and disdain seemed to follow, wherever Clarissa had been. The woman could spread discord like a bee spreads pollen.

  Damn them all. She would send the guests away, just as Adam had told her she could. And never, ever, would she submit to such torture again. In time, Adam would forget about her, since it was obvious that he wished to be elsewhere. If it mattered so much to him that there be entertainment in his house, he would have been at her side when she was all but attacked by his mistress.

  She steadied her breathing. To call a sudden halt to the proceedings would be even more embarrassing than to continue with them. If there were any left in the room that were not talking about her, they soon would be, once she drove them from her house and slammed the doors.

  She would retire herself, then. It was embarrassing for a hostess to abandon her guests. But she found herself—suddenly indisposed. Too ill to continue, no doubt due to the stress of the event. People would understand. Some would know the cause of the indisposition, but not all. She might still save some small portion of pride.

  She had but to find her husband, and tell him that it behoved him, as host, to rise from the card table, and attend to his guests, for she could not hold up another instant.

  She exited the hall and was almost in the card room before she knew what she was about. The sound of male laughter echoed into the hallway.

  It would be embarrassing to invade the privacy of the men, but it could not be helped. It was her house, after all. Even if she might need to continually remind herself of the fact.

  She paused in front of the partially open door, standing behind it, and taking in a deep breath, scented with the tobacco smoke escaping from the room. And without intending to, she heard the conversation, escaping from the room as well.

  ‘Of course, now that Adam is an old married man, he will not be interested in cards or horses. I dare say your new bride does not approve of your track losses, Bellston.’

  There was general laughter.

  ‘She has not yet had the chance to approve or disapprove of them, Mark. We have been married a short time, and even I cannot lose m
oney so fast as that, despite my dashed bad luck. When one is throwing one’s money away, it takes time to pick a horse that can do the job properly.’

  ‘You took little enough care in the finding of a wife, Adam.’

  So she was no different than choosing a jade. Anger mingled with shame at the hearing of it.

  ‘Indeed. You were alone when you left London. Wherever did you find her?’ It was her husband’s friend, John.

  ‘She found me, more like. I was not even looking.’ Her husband’s voice.

  She drew back from the door. Her father had often told her that people who listened at keyholes deserved what they heard. She should retreat immediately if she did not want Clarissa’s stories confirmed.

  ‘She must have a fat purse, then, for you to marry so quickly.’

  She could feel her cheeks reddening. One, two, three…

  ‘Her father was a cit?’ Another voice, edged with curiosity.

  Four, five, six.

  ‘In printing, I believe,’ her husband answered. ‘Books and such. My wife is a great reader. Probably through his influence.’

  Someone laughed. ‘What does a woman need with reading?’

  Idiot. Her fists balled.

  ‘I wouldn’t know, myself. But she seems to value it.’ There was the faintest trace of sarcasm in her husband’s voice. And she relaxed her fists. ‘I imagine it proves useful, if one does not wish to appear as foolish as you.’

  ‘But it must take her time away from other, more important things,’ John responded. ‘Her appearance, for example. She is a bit of a quiz.’

  Her husband, and his damned friends, sniping and backbiting, as she had seen them on the first day. She would not cry, she reminded herself. She was a grown woman, in her own house, and she would suffer these fools no longer, but go into the room and remind her husband who had paid for the party.

  And then she noticed the silence emanating from the room. John’s comment had been followed by a mutter of assent, and some nervous laughter, that had faded quickly to nothing.

  Her husband spoke. ‘I find her appearance to be singular. Her eyes, especially, are most compelling. Not to everyone’s taste, perhaps, but very much to mine. You might wish to remember that, in future, if you wish to visit my home.’ The warning in his voice was clear, and she imagined him the way he had been when he stood up to her brother. Quiet, but quite frightening.

  Her jaw dropped.

  There was more muttering in the room, and a hurried apology from John.

  Her husband spoke again. ‘If any are curious on the matter of how I came to be married so quickly after my recent financial misfortunes, and to one so wealthy as my wife, let me clarify the situation, that you may explain it to them. It was a chance meeting of kindred souls. The decision on both our parts was very sudden, and on my part, it had very little to do with the size of her inheritance. I consider myself most fortunate to have found so intelligent and understanding a woman, and must regret that circumstances imply an ulterior motive. Would anyone else care to comment on it?’

  There were hurried denials from his friends.

  ‘I thought not. Furthermore, I do not expect to hear more on the subject of my wife’s family. Her brother is in trade, and our backgrounds are most different. But I wished the woman I married to be worthy of the title, and with sufficient character to bring pride to my name. I am more than happy with my choice. Would that you are all as lucky as I have been.’

  Nervous silence followed, and someone cleared his throat.

  Then, when tension had reached a near-unbearable point, she heard the sound of shuffling cards, and her husband drawled, ‘Another hand, gentleman?’

  She could feel the tension release, as the men rushed to offer assent.

  She leaned her back to the wall, and let the plaster support her as the room began to spin. The Duke of Bellston found her ‘singular’. Whatever did that mean? If another had said it, she’d have thought it was faint praise, and that the speaker had been too kind to say ‘odd’.

  But from Adam’s lips? It had sounded like ‘rare’. As though she was something to be sought for and kept safe.

  She could not help the ridiculous glow she felt at the knowledge. The most important man in the room thought she did credit to his name. And there had been no false note when he had said he was happy.

  She walked slowly down the short hall, toward the ballroom. At the doorway, the butler came to her with a question about the wine, and she answered absently, but with confidence. She could not help smiling, as she went back to her guests, and even managed to stand up for another dance when her husband’s brother offered.

  The evening was drawing to a close, the crowd already thinning, and it did not really matter if the guests liked her or not. They were leaving soon, and she would be alone with a man who, she smiled to herself, thought she was ‘singular’. She looked up to see her husband returning to the main room to seek her out. He took her hand to lead her to the floor for a final dance, but paused, with his head tipped to the side, staring at her.

  ‘Your Grace?’ she responded, and smiled back at him.

  He shook his head. ‘Something is different. What has occurred?’

  ‘I do not know what you mean.’

  ‘You have changed.’

  She glanced down at her gown, spreading the skirt with her hand, and shrugged back at him. ‘I assure you, I am no different than when we left our rooms earlier today.’

  He smiled. ‘Perhaps I should have chosen my words more carefully. You are transfigured. I was gone from the room for a short time, and I return to find I’ve missed a metamorphosis.’

  She laughed then, and looked away, remembering his words from earlier. And she could feel the heat in her cheeks as she answered, ‘Is this transfiguration a good thing? For not all of them are, you know.’

  ‘I hope so. For you are looking most…well… hmm… I assume you had a pleasant evening.’

  ‘Well enough. But better, now that it is over.’ She saw Lord Timothy, staring significantly at her, from across the room. ‘If you will excuse me. I think your friend wishes to speak to me.’

  ‘Very well.’

  Adam watched her back as she walked away from him and toward the stairs. There was definitely something different about her. A sway in her hips, perhaps? Or a toss of her head as she turned. And her colouring was better. Where she had been deathly pale at the beginning of the evening, to the extent that he feared she might faint in his arms, now there were roses in her cheeks, and a sparkle in her eye. She was smiling as she walked away from him, and he heard her laugh in response to something that Tim had said to her.

  The whole impression was most fetching, if a bit disconcerting. As he looked at her, he found himself comparing her with the few ladies remaining in the room. He found the others wanting. She would never be known as a great beauty, but she was certainly handsome. Tonight, she was displaying a strength of character and a confidence that had been lacking in the early days of their marriage. She glanced back at him from her spot beside Tim, and her smile was spontaneous and infectious.

  And he had got the distinct impression, when she’d greeted him just now, that she had been flirting with him.

  He scanned what was left of the crowd to see if any had noticed, or if there might be some explanation for the change in behaviour. His eye caught his brother, and he signalled him with a nod of his head.

  Will crossed the room to his side, smiling and relaxed. It appeared he had also enjoyed the party. ‘The evening went well.’

  ‘That is good to know.’ Adam indicated his retreating wife with an inclination of his head. ‘Penelope did well, I think.’

  Will smiled after her. ‘So it seems. She is looking most fine this evening.’

  Adam nodded agreement. ‘What put such colour in her cheeks, I wonder? I spent much of the evening in the card room, and too little time with her.’ That his absence might have contributed to her good mood was more than a little irr
itating.

  ‘Perhaps it was the dancing. I had opportunity to stand up with her on several occasions. She is most adept for one who spends so much time amongst her books. And an intelligent conversationalist, once she overcomes her shyness. It was why I was so opposed to your match. You are a gad, not much for sitting home of an evening, while she would like nothing better. It is not the recipe for a happy union, when two partners are so dissimilar.’

  ‘As you know, with your vast experience as a married man.’

  His brother ignored the gibe. ‘But I rescind my former feelings on the subject. She seems to be warming to her job as hostess. And once she began to open up to me, I found her views on scholarship to be most refreshing.’

  ‘She opened up to you.’

  ‘Yes. As the evening wore on, she was most chatty. We had several opportunities to speak, as we danced.’

  ‘Oh.’ He remembered seeing her, clasping his brother’s hand, and the look she had given him, as though she wished him to see. Did she mean to make him jealous? She had succeeded.

  Will continued. ‘It is good that you plan to allow her to continue with her work. She is correct: her views have value. I most look forward to reading her translation when she completes it.’

  Adam searched his heart for a desire to read Homer, in any form, and found it wanting. He could still remember the sting of the ruler on the back of his hand, for all the times he had neglected his studies to go riding, or attempted them, only to miss a conjugation. And now, Will would be there to appreciate the work, once Penny had completed it.

  Damn him. But that was ridiculous. He had nothing to fear from his brother. Will would rather die than come between him and his new wife. He should be happy that Penny would have someone to talk to.

  Then why did he feel so irritated that she was talking to him tonight? Adam had left her alone to fend for herself. And she had done it, admirably. By the end of the evening, he’d heard murmurs about what a fine hostess she had been, and the people wishing him well had sounded sincere and not sarcastic. The evening had been a success.