Tokens of Love

by Mary Balogh

  In a very short time, dressed in a pair of sturdy half boots, and her warmest pelisse and bonnet, with her gloved hands tucked into a sable muff, she was letting herself out of the side door. The ground was crisp underfoot, and she walked carefully, having no desire to add a sprained ankle to her other tribulations.

  She had gone over and over what Luke had said until she no longer knew what to think. In five minutes Luke had cracked the veneer of maturity so carefully assumed over the years, and she was seventeen again, with all the pain and bewilderment and heartbreak of rejection. If he was telling the truth—and for all her anger and bewilderment, she had no reason to doubt that he was—then the father whom she had loved and trusted had cheated her. But much as this realization hurt, it was less painful than the knowledge that Luke had not deemed her worth fighting for.

  The snap of a twig brought her thoughts back to the present. Charlotte looked around, expecting to see one of the garden boys come to throw gravel on the paths. Instead she saw Luke, striding out like an avenging angel, the skirts of his long driving coat flapping around his legs, his hands thrust deep into his pockets. At the same moment he saw her and came to an abrupt halt. Beneath the brim of his hat, his dark face wore a scowl as daunting as any angel of doom. Her heart was beating very fast, but she gave him back look for look.

  “I had not expected to meet anyone from the house at this hour,” he said abruptly.

  “Nor I,” she returned. “I am accustomed to rising early when I’m at home.”

  “Are you indeed? And where is home?”

  “In Hampshire. I am very comfortably housed on the outskirts of a small village.”

  “You live there alone?”

  “I have a companion.” The answer seemed to afford him little satisfaction. As his lips tightened, Charlotte lifted her head defiantly. “We are very happy together, I assure you, though I would not have you dismiss me as some dab of a country cousin. In fact, I lead a very full and varied social life.” And to forestall further probing questions, “You are not still set on leaving this morning?”

  “I am on my way now to the stables to tell my man, John Jackson, to have the horses ready. As soon as the duke is about, I shall make my excuses.”

  “Which, however plausible, must inevitably seem contrived. I wish you will change your mind. This is such an important day for the twins, and for my sister, it would be such a pity if anything were to mar it. And Annis will take it amiss, I know she will, if you were to leave so abruptly. Surely you do not find my presence so repugnant that you cannot bear to be in the same house with me above a few hours?”

  Luke frowned and said abruptly, “If I have given you that impression, then I apologize. Nothing could be further from the case, I promise you. If anything, it was a desire to spare you embarrassment…”

  For a moment Charlotte felt the world spin a little on its axis. But he was simply striving to be polite. “Oh, if that is all!” She managed a light, amused laugh, and saw his frown deepen, but persevered. “Luke, why should I be embarrassed? It all happened such a long time ago. No one here, not even my sister, is aware of any previous association between us. And as I have no wish to make public my girlish infatuation, there is no reason why they should ever know. I thank you for your concern, but it is quite unnecessary.”

  “Is it?” Luke, momentarily piqued, watched her face. It was nipped by the cold and vitally alive, but much less revealing than the face of the younger Charlotte.

  “Yes, it is,” she said firmly. “After all, if you remain, you will be out with the hunt for a good part of today, and by this evening, with so many people about, there is no reason to suppose that we need even find ourselves in one another’s company.”

  “Would that be so very painful to you?”

  “Certainly not. Don’t put words into my mouth.” She bit her lip on the sharp retort, and continued more calmly, “Luke, I am simply trying to be practical—to spare feelings all round. Tomorrow, after the ball, you may, if you wish, leave as soon as you please without arousing comment.”

  “Just like that? No raking over of old coals?” Luke persisted, his eyes intent upon her face, which seemed suddenly rather pale and pinched.

  “Good heavens, no. What possible purpose would that serve?” The sun was coming up like a orange ball, turning the silver frost to gold. Its beauty brought a pricking of tears to her eyes, or so she told herself, but she blinked them resolutely away. “There is nothing to be gained by opening old wounds.”

  “Sometimes wounds heal better when they are exposed to light and air.”

  “Not mine. Time healed mine a long time ago,” she asserted steadily. “Though I see no reason why we should not be friends. And now, I intend to return to the house before I freeze to death, and you must do as you please.”

  He was silent for so long that she wondered if she had dented his pride. Then, to her surprise—perhaps, if she were totally honest, a little to her chagrin—he said equably, “Friends it is, then. And, yes, I will stay.”

  ———

  The twins were up and about early, too excited to stay in bed a moment longer than was necessary. They had seen their aunt from the window walking with Colonel Valentine, and accosted her in the small saloon, agog to know all.

  “My dears, there is nothing to know,” she said, pleasantly but firmly. “We both decided to take a walk, and our paths coincided.”

  “You are blushing! Kate, is she not blushing?”

  “Indeed she is, Fanny.” They took her hands and twirled her around the room. “Dear Aunt Lottie, we saw all from our window. How daring of you! And so romantic. An assignation in the garden before dawn…”

  “Girls!” Her laughter held more than a twinge of embarrassment. “Do let me go before I grow dizzy. I wish you will get it out of your heads that there is any kind of… of…”

  “Yes, Aunt?” Fanny chuckled. “Any kind of what, pray?”

  “Nothing. This is foolishness beyond belief. Do stop, or I shall scarce be able to look the colonel in the face.”

  At this, their mirth spilled over. “But you have already done so this very morning,” Kate insisted. “And you do know the old saying: ‘The very first person of the opposite gender that you meet on St. Valentine’s Day…’ “

  “ ‘… will be your heart’s desire.’ “ Fanny concluded triumphantly. “And today, dearest of aunts, is…”

  “Enough!” They had come a little too near the bone for Charlotte. Her voice grew sharp. “The joke has gone far enough. I appreciate how excited you must feel, but I beg you to have a thought for others. High spirits at this hour can be exceedingly tiresome, let me tell you, when one has guests to attend to, and a million things to do.”

  They looked at her in astonishment, and then at each other. It was Fanny who spoke for both of them. “Aunt Lottie, we are so sorry. We didn’t mean… we wouldn’t hurt you for the world.”

  How nearly she had betrayed herself. She forced a smile. “I know, my dears. I’m sorry, too. It is your birthday, and I shouldn’t have snapped at you. Come along now, and see what I have for you.”

  As they left the saloon, they almost fell over Lady Alice, who was so close to the door that she was obliged to step back, looking momentarily discomfited. Charlotte suspected that she had been listening at the door, but dismissed the notion at once as being less than charitable.

  Lady Alice was dressed in an elegant morning gown of pale green crepe over which she wore a pretty fringed shawl, and her pale blond hair had been artlessly arranged into a high knot with little cascades of curls framing her face. Charlotte, made very much aware of her own plain round gown, was prey to the unworthy suspicion that she must have been up for hours to achieve such a degree of casual elegance.

  “Good morning.” Lady Alice smiled, at her most charming. “I hope I am not intruding…”

  “Not in the least. I am always up and about early, and this morning the girls were much too excited to stay in bed.”

&n
bsp; “I am sure it is not to be wondered at. Dear Fanny, Kate—let me be one of the first to congratulate you. Ah, to be seventeen again, Miss Wynford.” She sighed and patted her shining curls. “I remember so well how it felt—to have all one’s life before one…”

  The inference being that I cannot remember that far back, and am past praying for, Charlotte thought indignantly, holding on to her temper by a whisker. “Quite so. But memories frequently conspire to play one false.” She heard the twins stifling their mirth and knew this kind of verbal dueling would not do. “If you would care to take breakfast now, Lady Alice,” she said in a more conciliatory tone, “the girls were on their way to the morning room and will gladly bear you company.”

  “Yes, of course,” Fanny said dutifully.

  “How kind.”

  “Not at all. You will probably find yourselves greatly outnumbered as many of the gentlemen who are to hunt will already be there, but I’m sure you are well enough acquainted with them not to be shy.”

  This earned her a sharp glance, to which Charlotte returned a pleasant smile. Reassured, Lady Alice preened. “It is true that I feel myself among friends here. In fact, one of the reasons I am about so early is that several of the gentlemen have begged me to be present to see them ride off.”

  “That is what we mean to do also,” Kate said with more than usual enthusiasm.

  Lady Alice smiled politely and then, looking beyond Kate, suddenly became more animated. “Ah, Colonel.”

  Charlotte turned to see Luke approaching. He greeted each of them with the same courteous formality and wished the twins many happy returns, while they looked in vain for some degree of partiality in his manner toward their aunt.

  “I told you last night that I should be up in time to see off the hunt, did I not?” Lady Alice was laughing up at him, making a teasing little moue. “And you were so unkind as to doubt me. Do you go in to breakfast? Perhaps you will be so good as to give me your arm.”

  “Well, honestly,” declared Fanny indignantly as they went off together. “Did you ever see anything so… so… ?”

  “Hush, child,” said Charlotte. “The colonel and Lady Alice are old friends. Your mama told me so.”

  “Yes, but…” Kate, like her sister, saw it as a deliberate slight to their aunt.

  “But nothing.” Charlotte was firm. “You had better go along and get your breakfast, too, if you are to be ready in time to see the hunt off.”

  Later, out on the wide sweep of the drive, there was much activity as the party assembled and mulled wine was passed around amidst a lot of talk and laughter.

  Miss Taylor, the governess, had the young children at a safe distance on the lawns were they could watch without getting underfoot, but young Oliver, drawn by the yelping of the hounds, had escaped and was in among them, tumbling and laughing, until his father, passing with Colonel Valentine, shooed him away, saying he was getting the horses far too excited.

  “I wish I could come with you,” Oliver said wistfully. “Bess can jump fences like a good ‘un.”

  “Quite,” said his father. “But hunting’s a different matter, Noll. We don’t want Bess to get hurt by some of those great hunters, do we?”

  “I s’ppose not.” But Oliver wasn’t ready to concede without making his point. “I bet if you were to see Bess and me jumping, Colonel, you’d be amazed!”

  Luke smiled. “I daresay I would, young ‘un. Perhaps we’ll have time to go for a ride together before I leave.”

  “I say!”

  “That will do, Oliver. Cut along, now, there’s a good chap,” said the duke.

  Oliver took his dismissal good-naturedly and, deprived of one pleasure, was soon to be observed luring one of the gardener’s boys from his work in order to help him make a slide along the side of the driveway.

  “Watch me, Aunt Lottie!” he cried as Charlotte approached with the girls. “I bet I can slide all that way without falling once,” and proceeded to prove it.

  “Oh, well done!” exclaimed Charlotte, whose favorite he was.

  “Show off,” Kate added dismissively.

  “A lad of some spirit.” Luke chuckled.

  “Don’t we know it,” his father groaned. “We live in dread of what he’ll be up to next.”

  Sir Giles Bingham, Lambourn’s nearest neighbour, had already arrived, and he was not alone.

  “Why, only fancy!” exclaimed Fanny, the glow in her cheeks not entirely due to the bite in the air. “If it isn’t James and Edgar!”

  “Extraordinary,” agreed Charlotte dryly, seeing at once why the twins had been so eager to brave the cold. “I had supposed them to be away at college.”

  “Well, of course, they should be,” Kate said artlessly. “Only, Agnes had it from her bosom friend, Elsie, who is the Binghams’ under-cook, that they had been rusticated for two whole weeks for some trifling misdemeanor involving a gambling hell.”

  “Do you not think Edgar is looking particularly fine, Aunt Lottie?” Fanny sighed. “If anyone were to give me a Valentine token, I do wish it might be Edgar!”

  “Do you suppose Mama would agree to their coming to the ball?” Kate asked. “They are among our oldest friends, after all. I’m sure she would ask them if you suggested it to her, dear Aunt.”

  “Even if she did ask them, Sir Giles and Lady Bingham may consider it inappropriate in view of their current disgrace.”

  “Oh, I’m sure Lady Bingham could not be so unkind as to deprive us of their company.”

  The two young men saw them at once, and leaving their horses in the charge of a groom, came across, doffing their hats politely.

  “Ma’am.” Edgar blushed, a little awed by Charlotte’s presence, but James was more forthcoming. “Fanny, Kate, this is your great day, is it not? Pray accept our heartiest congratulations. You’ll be surprised to see us, no doubt.”

  “It’s a long story. You won’t want to be bored with it now,” Edgar insisted hastily, his words addressed to Fanny.

  He could always tell the two girls apart, even when, as now, they were identically clad in blue velvet pelisses edged with white fur—and the most becoming bonnets. Fanny’s eyes were of a deeper blue than Kate’s, and they seemed to take on an extra sparkle whenever she looked at him—like now.

  In spite of Edgar’s marked interest in Fanny, Charlotte could not fail to be aware of the way his admiring glance kept straying to a small group among which Lady Alice held court, dramatically swathed in a hooded cloak of wine-colored velvet. Her husky laugh floated occasionally on the air, and although Charlotte could not blame the boy for admiring her, she wished her far away.

  “Forgive me, ma’am,” Edgar said at last, “but is that not Colonel Valentine? I saw him last year when he visited London with the Duke of Wellington for the great celebrations. A friend told me all about his exploits.”

  Charlotte, relieved by the note of awe in his voice, realized she had misread the object of his interest, and feeling very much in charity with him, she heard herself asking, “Would you like to meet the colonel?”

  “Oh, wouldn’t I just! But I really c-couldn’t presume…”

  “Nonsense,” she said. “Colonel Valentine, could you spare a minute?”

  He looked up as she called his name, hesitated, then strode across with a certain impatience, his dark face taut, a trifle forbidding.

  “May I present Mr. James Bingham and Mr. Edgar Bingham, who are Sir Giles Bingham’s sons;”

  “Sir.” They both shook hands, Edgar being the more eager of the two. “It is the m-most tremendous honor to m-meet you, Colonel. I have read m-many accounts of your bravery at Waterloo. That was a f-famous victory.” The stammer that had afflicted him as a child still came back to plague him when he was nervous.

  Charlotte watched Luke’s reaction anxiously, hoping that he would not become impatient and put the boy down. But, after a keen glance at Edgar, the colonel said almost cordially, “It was certainly a memorable battle.”

  “Edgar w
ants to be a soldier,” said Kate playfully, and received a glare from her sister.

  Edgar blushed, very much aware of the colonel regarding him thoughtfully. “It has always been my ambition, and F-Father says I may—w-when I come down f-from college.”

  “Very wise. Complete your education, by all means. It can only benefit you in the long run. The army needs men of intelligence. We have too many who think it no more than good sport.”

  Edgar positively glowed with pleasure.

  “Was ever anything so young?” Luke murmured as the two young men excused themselves and moved aside to talk to Fanny and Kate.

  Charlotte smiled. “You were very kind to him. Thank you.”

  He turned his piercing gaze on her. “My dear,” he said, “I am not a monster.”

  “Of course not, but I remember how you used to dislike that kind of hero worship, and you can be very”—she bit her lip—”intimidating.”

  Luke frowned. “Surely not? I was never so with you.”

  For an instant, a wave of memory threatened to engulf them both—he, catching in the face uplifted to him, with its purity of profile, a fleeting glimpse of the seventeen-year-old girl who had captured his heart with her endearing vulnerable innocence—and she, remembering a soldier, tired and disillusioned, who had called her his “dear delight” and had appeared to find solace in her company.

  Luke’s voice, though scarcely above a whisper, betrayed a painful urgency. “For God’s sake, Charlotte—don’t! Don’t look like that.”

  And she drew back from the abyss and smiled a little blindly at him. To her relief, the hunt was beginning to form up at last, the hounds eager to be off. Luke stood a moment as if rooted to the spot, then, hearing his name called, touched his whip to his hat and strode off to where his groom was grappling with a restive hunter. Edgar and James, not wishing to be behindhand, said a hasty adieu, and followed.

  “Such a splendid sight, don’t you think, Miss Wynford?” Lady Alice crooned, her eyes alight with a kind of animal pleasure, as the gentlemen rode off to shouts of “Halloo” and the baying of the hounds. “I declare, the drama of it all fires up the blood like nothing else.”