by Jane Goodger
“Prajit, I thank you for your interest in my romantic affairs, but you should know that Lady Marjorie cannot marry me. Her mother would not allow her to marry an untitled gentleman. So you see, your subversive efforts to throw us together are futile.”
Prajit looked immediately affronted. “I would never presume to interfere with your personal life, my lord.”
Charles stared at him for half a beat, then nodded, not believing a word his valet said.
The Zoological Gardens in Regents Park held a marvelous collection of animals, mostly from Africa, those large and exotic creatures a fascination to a population used to horses, foxes, and small woodland creatures.
It was an overly warm day, the sun beating down on the visitors who walked along the graveled paths. Women holding frothy parasols and men in their straw hats strolled from exhibit to exhibit as the animals, bored and fat, ignored them. Marjorie had seen a few small private menageries but had never ventured to the zoo. Her mother thought such an activity far too pedestrian. In fact, she thought Marjorie and George were viewing an exhibit of Italian masters at the Museum of Art. Strange how lying to her mother had become almost second nature. It was better to lie than to face the wrath and scorn of Dorothea. She and George had been doing it for years.
They waited, she and George, at the south entrance near the Lions House for the arrival of Charles, Lady Caroline, and her mother. From time to time, the air would rumble with the exciting sound of a lion or the trumpet of one of the elephants. Despite her reason for being here, Marjorie looked forward to the day and told herself it had nothing to do with the fact she would see Charles. He would, after all, be with another woman.
“There they are now,” Marjorie said, her stomach giving a funny little twist at the sight of Charles with Lady Caroline. Lady Warwick walked happily beside them, no doubt already assembling her daughter’s trousseau. Lady Caroline looked utterly charming in a white gown with pale blue accents, the perfect dress for an overly warm, late May day. She was as fresh as a newly bloomed pink rose, whereas Marjorie felt more like the rose that had opened and already lost a few of its petals.
Why had she agreed to this meeting? Why did she go on pretending indifference when she knew her heart was fully engaged?
“Good afternoon, Lady Caroline, Lady Warwick. I’m so glad for such fine weather for our outing. Have either of you been to the zoo before?”
Lady Caroline smiled at Marjorie beneath her white and pale blue parasol. The sun shone through the thin material, giving her an almost ethereal glow. “When I was very small,” she said. “I hardly remember a thing except that I was very afraid of the ostriches. Wasn’t I, Mother?”
“You were very afraid of everything,” her mother said, chuckling.
“Where shall we start?” Marjorie asked, leaning over to look at the map of the zoo George held. “The lions are first if we go to the left.”
“Oh, yes, the lions,” Lady Caroline said with a happy little bounce. “I had a cat when I was a girl who looked just like a lion. Well, not just, but the same coloring. She had two little white paws, though, and I don’t think lions have white paws. I remember one time that naughty kitty climbed the curtains in Papa’s library and ruined them. Then we had to keep her outside. What was her name, Mama?”
“Ginger.”
“Oh, yes. Ginger. Because of the color. I do like a black cat. I never had one. Perhaps someday. Have you any pets, Mr. Norris? I think a home needs pets of some kind. We’ve always had pets, haven’t we, Mother.”
And so she went on, one sentence after another, so quickly that Marjorie wondered if she would faint from lack of oxygen. Throughout her monologue, Charles walked silently, nodding occasionally. As the day went on, he gave Marjorie more and more progressively panicked expressions. He hadn’t uttered more than two syllables in twenty minutes; he couldn’t with Lady Caroline’s nonstop chatter.
George peered over the map constantly, stopping to read the plaques at each exhibit, which slowed things down a bit, but no one seemed to mind. He was fascinated with every detail of the animals, and read aloud each plaque to enlighten the rest of the group. Lady Warwick had attached herself to Marjorie, allowing the “young couple some privacy.” As if Marjorie were a co-conspirator in their love. Even though she was supposed to be, Marjorie couldn’t help but feel more than a bit resentful of her role.
From time to time, Lady Warwick would give Charles and her daughter a knowing look, and then turn to Marjorie to make certain she was catching how wonderful and charming and perfect they were together.
The elephant exhibit was the final destination, as it was opposite the entrance. Marjorie had no doubt why, for the zoological society had, in her opinion, saved the best for last. Jumbo was aptly named, for he was a massive creature, looking even larger standing next to the zoo’s only other elephant, Alice. He stood in the center of his compound shoving straw into his mouth while a man, dwarfed beside the beast, patted his sides as if he were a pet dog.
“He’s from Paris, you know,” Charles said, finally able to utter more than a grunt because the sight of the elephant had made Lady Caroline, thankfully, quite speechless.
“Really?” Lady Caroline asked, eyes wide. “They have elephants in Paris? I’ve been to Paris and I’ve never seen . . . oh, you’re making sport of me.” She batted him playfully on the arm and Marjorie wanted to smack her hard. Good Lord, why had she agreed to this? Charles stood there, devastatingly handsome in his light brown jacket and cream-colored pants, looking precisely like a gentleman should on a jaunt to the zoo. His hard features softened when he gazed at Lady Caroline, and Marjorie could hardly stand to look at him. When she did, all she could remember was how his mouth felt against hers, how he’d touched her. His low groans of pleasure, his seductive words as he’d moved his hand beneath her skirts.
This was unbearable. Even now, she could feel the warmth and heat of arousal. How could he be so completely unaffected by what had transpired between them? How could he be so utterly callous as to flaunt his desire for another woman one day after holding her in his arms? The zoo required quite a bit of walking and she could tell he was beginning to suffer for it. She couldn’t quite bring herself to care.
“He was brought from Paris when he was just little,” George put in, as he read the plaque in front of the exhibit. “But originally, he’s from Africa.”
“Do you like elephants, Mr. Norris?” Lady Caroline asked, looking up at Charles as if whatever the next word he said would be wonderful and witty.
He seemed startled to realize she was actually waiting for his answer. He glanced Marjorie’s way, and she could see him visibly relax. Suddenly, all bitter thoughts were erased. He might be with Lady Caroline, but he needed her. Why that depressing thought was comforting, Marjorie couldn’t fathom.
“I find them grand and majestic creatures, and part of me is pained to see such a fine animal put on exhibit. But he seems happy and I’ve read he is a gentle giant, even allowing people to ride upon him. Would you like me to hoist you aboard, Lady Caroline?”
“Goodness, no, Mr. Norris. What if I fell?”
“I would most certainly catch you,” he said grandly, earning a beaming smile from both Lady Caroline and her mother. Marjorie braced herself for another knowing look from Lady Warwick and was not disappointed. “I think you’d look grand riding the lion, too, but I fear you would be too tempting a meal for the beast.”
Oh, good God, Marjorie thought. But Lady Caroline giggled, delighted with his teasing.
The rest of the afternoon was much the same. Lady Caroline would say something, Charles would respond wittily, and Lady Caroline would giggle. The repetition of it was extremely tedious. Every once in a while, Charles would shoot her a grateful look, and she was tempted to ask him what he planned to do when they were married and he was tongue-tied and she was not around to give him courage.
The incessant chatter of the happy pair was grating, and Marjorie couldn’t wait until the t
our was over. No doubt Charles felt the same (but for an entirely different reason), for by the time they made their way back to the south entrance, he was limping noticeably. She told herself she didn’t care. And she didn’t, until she saw he’d broken out into a sweat that had nothing to do with the warm day. Indeed, the sun had given way to clouds and the temperature had dropped rather dramatically. It looked as if rain was imminent as Charles handed the two ladies up into their carriage.
“George, I’ll meet you in our carriage. I need to speak with Mr. Norris privately, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course. Good day, Mr. Norris.”
“Good day, Summerfield. We’ll see you tomorrow night.” When George was gone, he turned to her. “Thank you. That went swimmingly, did it not?”
“I quit.” She hadn’t realized that was what she was going to say, but there it was. She quit. She simply could not suffer another day like the one just endured.
“You cannot. Not now. Why?”
“I’ve done what we agreed. I’ve found you a bride.”
His brows instantly drew together. “I think that’s a bit hasty, to be honest. I’m not certain we suit.”
“You’re perfect together. Good day and good-bye, Mr. Norris.” Despite her departing words, she didn’t turn to her carriage, even as the first raindrops began to fall. She immediately snapped opened her parasol.
“This is about yesterday, isn’t it?”
Marjorie lifted her chin. “I’ve no idea what you mean.”
“Because of what we did. What I did. I am sorry. I take complete responsibility. I should have made you leave, turned my back, done something, anything, to prevent what transpired between us. It was wrong.”
“What transpired?” she asked, for some reason affronted by his using that sterile word to describe something she thought was wonderful. “You are correct. What transpired should never have happened and will never happen again. It was meaningless and will not be repeated. Ever.”
He stiffened. “Of course not.”
Marjorie ignored the pain and disappointment those words wrought. “So you see why I can no longer assist you.”
“Quite the opposite, my lady,” he said, looking and sounding angry. “If what transpired was meaningless, which is apparently how you see it, then we should have no problem at all continuing on as before. We should be able to revert to our business relationship without conflict. I place the blame firmly on myself. I flirted with you. I kissed you. I—” He stopped suddenly, and looked away. “I, perhaps, gave you the wrong impression of my intentions.” This last was said softly and perhaps hurt the most.
“You did not,” she said, proud that she sounded so certain and strong. “However, I feel it is in both of our interests that we have no relationship, business or otherwise.”
“But you, my lady, have not met the conditions of our arrangement,” he said coldly. “Unless your brother has found twenty-four thousand pounds in his back pocket?”
“I hate you.”
He lowered his gaze, then gave her a mocking bow. “I’m certain you do. You will be gratified to know that I will likely ask Lady Caroline for her hand before the end of the season. And then you will be rid of me. Good day, my lady.”
“Good day,” she choked out, feeling tears threaten.
“Oh, I nearly forgot. I’m attending the May Ball tomorrow evening.”
Of course he would be there. As would she. Her mother would never miss attending that grand event. She didn’t answer, but walked past him without looking up, fearing he might see the unshed tears in her eyes.
Chapter 11
The next day, she, along with her brother and Miss Lilianne Cavendish, visited Katherine in her suite at Brown’s Hotel for tea. Any doubt Marjorie had about affection between her brother and Miss Cavendish was quickly relieved. She was a quiet, composed creature, with brown hair and brown eyes, wholly unremarkable except when she looked at George. Never did Marjorie believe that anyone could love her brother as much as she did, but she was beginning to think it was possible.
On the way to Brown’s, the two of them pored over a book describing the architecture of an Egyptian pyramid, gushing about secret chambers and massive dimensions. George had clearly read the book prior to this, and continued to recite facts and figures about the pyramids. Even Marjorie, who was used to this tendency, was slightly annoyed, but Miss Cavendish was more bemused than anything. And when George started to repeat himself, she would gently insert a comment into the conversation, stopping his monologue. She had a way about her that was both gentle and strong.
Brown’s Hotel was located in the heart of Mayfair, a grand, four-story structure of light stone, and Marjorie, given her belief that Avonleigh was strapped for cash, was surprised they were staying there. Still, he was a marquess and a marquess certainly could not stay in one of the seedier hotels.
Katherine greeted them as they entered the hotel with her usual exuberance. She wore a gown Marjorie recognized from the previous year, a forest-green creation with cream lace and pale yellow collar and cuffs.
“I thought after tea we could walk to Green Park. That’s why I’m wearing green,” she said, laughing. “Very clever of me, I know. Besides, it’s so lovely and not nearly as crowded as Hyde. I’ve been cooped up in this hotel for far too long. Graham has been busy meeting with lawyers and investors, and I’m about to go mad from boredom.”
Marjorie looked over to the young couple and immediately agreed. There were very few activities when a couple could be alone but also closely chaperoned, and a walk in the park was one of them. She wanted to observe the pair a bit longer, just to assure herself that Miss Cavendish wanted George and not his title.
“That’s a lovely idea.”
The four walked to a small restaurant within the hotel and were immediately ushered to a table. Marjorie looked around, nodding to Lady Cartwright, an elderly woman who was friends with her mother, and her recently widowed daughter.
“Oh, my, there’s Jennie Jerome and her mother,” Katherine said, apparently delighted. Marjorie shook her head; she didn’t know the girl.
Katherine leaned forward. “You know, she caught the eye of Marlborough’s son, Lord Randolph. I’d go say hello, but we really didn’t run in the same circles. Still, she is an American . . .”
“Yes, now I recall,” Marjorie said, remembering reading something about the American heiress and Lord Randolph. “Aren’t they engaged?”
“Yes, much to both their parents’ horror. I do sympathize with what they’ve been through.” Katherine hesitated, then rose and walked to the table where Jennie Jerome sat with an older woman. They chatted briefly, then Katherine returned, smiling.
“What a charming girl,” Katherine said.
Marjorie eyed the other American girl warily. “Please don’t be insulted,” she began, then stopped, pressing her lips together. The influx of American girls with money coming in and marrying British titles was a bit disconcerting, particularly for an unmarried British lady.
Katherine waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t worry,” she said with a laugh. “We won’t take all your men. Only the poor titled ones.”
Marjorie couldn’t help but laugh at her outrageous friend. “And you are happy, are you not?”
“Terribly happy,” Katherine said. “That was all my father needed to see to give us my dowry. But I do believe we would have been happy without it. Truly I do,” she added when she saw Marjorie’s skeptical face.
“If one is going to be happy, it is better to be rich and happy than poor and happy.”
Katherine laughed. “You sound like such a snob when you talk like that. But I still adore you.”
After tea, the foursome walked to Green Park, just down Albemarle and onto Piccadilly, where the park entrance was.
“I like this park better than the rest,” Katherine said as they walked through the massive gates.
“And why is that?”
“Because it’s just grass and tree
s and flowers. It’s so natural.”
“It also used to be a leper colony and a haven for thieves,” Marjorie said, looking around the green expanse.
Katherine wrinkled her nose. “Can’t you just enjoy a place without knowing every detail of its history?”
“And Queen Elizabeth was nearly assassinated right over there,” Marjorie said, ignoring the admonition and pointing toward Constitution Hill. She stopped her history lesson to smile at George and Miss Cavendish, who were walking ahead of them, heads close together in animated conversation.
“I do believe I’ve made at least one successful match this season,” Marjorie said.
“They certainly do seem taken with one another. I’m glad.”
“As am I,” Marjorie said feelingly.
“And what of you? How goes your matchmaking adventure?”
Marjorie frowned and looked away from her friend, momentarily surprised how much it hurt even to think of Charles. “He seems quite taken with Lady Caroline. Their families are close so it’s almost certain that he’ll propose before the end of the season.” She tried to keep all emotion from her voice, but she must have failed.
“I’m sorry,” Katherine said, touching her arm.
“Whatever for? I’ve been successful. Now George’s debt will be cleared and Mother need never know of how foolish he was. But I do blame my cousin in part. He had no business bringing George into such a high-stakes game. Finding Mr. Norris a suitable bride is what I wanted.” She could not look Katherine in the eye, so she kept her gaze on her brother as she lied. She stopped walking and looked down at the gravel path beneath them. No, she couldn’t lie to her friend any more. “Of course, it’s not what I want. You know that.”
“Oh, Marjorie. I suspected as much.”
Marjorie swallowed, refusing to give in to the emotions that were swarming to the surface. She could not allow herself to show the depth of her despair in such a public place. And so she smiled. “There’s nothing to be done. I cannot disobey my mother and he has no interest.”
