A Change of Fortune

by Sandra Heath

  “I once told you that Miss Hart wasn’t to my liking, and now I assure you that she’s even less so. But she is your employer and I know how important this position is to you, and for that reason alone I allowed the matter to pass unchallenged. If it hadn’t been for your situation, Miss Conyngham, I would most definitely have put the old toad firmly in her place.” He looked at her. “You do know why she lied don’t you?”

  “No.”

  “In order to appease Nadia Benckendorff, who now wishes you away from here as ardently as she once wished you to stay.”

  “But why?”

  “We need look no further than that basket of roses for the answer to that. She’s jealous of Thornbury’s continued interest in you, Miss Conyngham, and I happen to know that she’s already been here once to request Miss Hart to dismiss you— Miss Hart refused because she required Countess Lieven’s permission before taking such a step.”

  “How do you know all this?”

  “Imogen told me. Nadia wanted her to accompany her here, but Imogen would have nothing to do with it; indeed she advised Nadia not to come.”

  Leonie looked away. So that was what that visit had been about! And how typical of Imogen to slide neatly out of all mention of her own participation! Leonie’s breath caught a little then, for why had Imogen come too? She had seemed as determined as Nadia, and she had left looking as furious—surely it couldn’t be that she too was jealous! Slowly Leonie glanced up at Guy. Oh, if only such a jealousy could be well-founded.

  He hadn’t noticed her thoughtfulness. “Miss Conyngham, I don’t like to think of you enduring not only such severely reduced circumstances but also the considerable spite and vindictiveness of others. If anything like this should happen again, I want you to tell me.”

  “Oh, but—”

  “No buts.”

  She searched his face for a moment. “I must thank you for your kindness, Sir Guy, but—”

  “I said no buts. I shall expect you to turn to me in future, is that clear?”

  She hesitated. “Yes,” she said at last.

  “Now then, all this having been said, I will come to the real point of wishing to speak in private with you. To begin with, I wish to apologize to you for my conduct at Grillion’s, it was quite inexcusable and you were right to round upon me as you did.”

  Her eyes widened in renewed astonishment. “But I was dreadfully rude to you.”

  “Justifiably so, and as I recall it, I was the one who began the rudeness.” He smiled a little ruefully. “It’s quite some time since I’ve been torn off such a strip, and I’m glad that you saw fit to do it, for it revealed to me not only that you are a young woman of admirable spirit but also that you have a great affection for my niece. It is because of this last that I really wish to speak to you, for I wish to enlist your assistance.”

  “Assistance?”

  “I’ve just left Stella in tears again. She persists in believing that I deliberately side with Imogen against her, which simply isn’t true. I love Imogen very much, but I’m not blind to her faults. I also love Stella, but I cannot give in to her. You do understand that, don’t you?”

  She nodded. “Yes, I do.”

  “That’s the crux of it, Miss Conyngham. You understand my position, and you’re fond of Stella. I believe that she adores you and will listen to what you have to say.”

  “Oh, I think you overestimate my influence,” she said quickly.

  “I don’t think so. Nor do I underestimate you in any way.” His dark eyes held her gaze. “I’m convinced that if Stella gives you her word that she will behave, then she will abide by it. I want this whole situation to be resolved as quickly as possible, for I don’t relish it in the slightest, and apart from that I’m anxious that she learns quickly that success doesn’t come from such odious conduct. Unless she learns that, Miss Conyngham, I shudder to think how she will eventually turn out.”

  She’ll turn out like Imogen, thought Leonie uncharitably.

  “Will you speak to her for me, Miss Conyngham? Will you try to extract a promise so that she can come home again? I’m due to be at Poyntons for the betrothal celebrations on the ninth of February, and that’s not very far ahead now. I’d like her to be with me when I go.”

  “I’ll do my best for you, Sir Guy, but I cannot say that I will succeed.”

  “I think that you will,” he said softly. He gave a slightly embarrassed laugh then. “And for my part I’ll attempt to reason with Imogen, if she’ll deign to speak to me.”

  “Deign? I don’t understand.”

  “She left a little…er, angrily, shall we say?”

  “Oh.”

  He smiled. “I’m beginning to fear I’m losing my touch with the fair sex. First there was the debacle at Grillion’s, then my niece’s unshakable belief that I am at all times a monster, and now my intended bride has stalked off in a veritable fury. I can do no right, and it’s becoming quite depressing.”

  She returned the smile. “Oh, I’m certain that your touch is as sure as ever it was, sir.”

  There was a wry devilment in his glance then. “I wonder how I should take that remark, Miss Conyngham? I’ve already been on the receiving end of your tongue’s unerring sting, and have thus learned a little caution. Are you saying that my touch is always flatteringly excellent? Or are you hinting rather that it’s never been even adequate?”

  “Which way would you like me to have meant it?” she countered.

  “Oh, most definitely the former.”

  “Then so be it.”

  He took her hand and raised it jestingly to his lips. “You’re very kind, and my bruised pride is already fully restored.” He became more serious then, still holding her hand as he looked down into her face. “You’re wasted here in this wretched place, Leonie Conyngham. You should be out in society, where you belong.”

  Her heart seemed to stop within her at the warmth in his eyes and in his voice. His fingers tightened momentarily around hers, and for a fleeting, breathless moment she thought he would kiss her. But then, abruptly, he released her. The spell shattered and it was as if the atmosphere which had suddenly sprung up between them had never been.

  He moved away. “I think it’s time that I left, for no doubt you’ve many duties to attend to, even on a Sunday.” He spoke lightly, but she knew that he was as conscious as she of the moment that had just passed.

  “I…I will do what I can to persuade Stella.”

  He looked at her again. “Yes, I know that you will.” He went to the door. “By the way….”

  “Yes?”

  “I haven’t forgotten my promise to you concerning your father. I’ve been in touch with Harry Fitzjohn at India House, and I’ll be dining with him soon.”

  “Thank you, Sir Guy.”

  He nodded and then left.

  She remained in the visitors’ room, going slowly to the window to stare out over the snow-covered garden, where large, heavy flakes were still falling from the dark yellow-gray clouds above. She watched them curling and dancing through the frozen air, but she didn’t really see them; she was thinking only of Guy de Lacey.

  “I love you,” she whispered. “I love you with all my heart, but I will do my utmost to make things happy for you when you marry Imogen….”

  Chapter 25

  Nadia had gone when at last Leonie went up to see Stella again. The girl was still tired and shaken after the accident, and still upset about arguing with Guy again, but she seemed in slightly better spirits, due, so it appeared, to Nadia Benckendorff’s kindness and understanding! Leonie was perturbed at how the girl sang Nadia’s praises, for kindness and understanding were alien to the Russian’s character, and so the concerned and friendly visit was very suspicious indeed. Leonie was careful not to say anything critical of Nadia, however, for Stella seemed very warmly disposed toward her new “friend” and wasn’t inclined to listen to anything even remotely denigratory about her. It was as if she was determined to turn to Nadia no matter w
hat, and Leonie was dismayed to suspect that it was because she knew how much Guy disliked her. The latest quarrel between uncle and niece was evidently a little more serious than Guy realized, for Stella seemed more hurt, and therefore more intractable, than before. It all made for a great deal of difficulty, and made Leonie’s promise to him all the more impossible to carry out for the time being.

  * * *

  It was Thursday before the snow at last stopped completely and the sun shone down from the early-February sky. The snow had been cleared from the streets, but the ice remained, making everything smooth and glassy and very, very dangerous. Word spread that the frost fair was now a flourishing concern of at least thirty booths. There were swing boats, a skittle alley, coconut shies, Punch and Judy shows, several wheels of fortune, and many other diversions, including even a printing press. The atrocious weather hadn’t kept the people away, and already several thousand were said to have visited it.

  At the seminary the pupils talked of little else, until Miss Hart let it be known that she disapproved and that on no account would anyone be permitted to go there. She told them that if she heard one more word on the matter, she’d write letters of complaint to the families of those concerned.

  * * *

  After breakfast, just before going to take her first class, Leonie went up to see Stella again, but she had barely sat down on the edge of the bed when Katy came hurrying to the door in great excitement. “Miss Leonie, I think you’d better come. Some more roses have been delivered for you.”

  Stella looked up curiously. “More? Have there been others, then?”

  “Yes—” began the maid, but Leonie interrupted quickly.

  “Oh, they weren’t anything important,” she said, looking warningly at Katy, because she didn’t want Rupert’s name mentioned, not now that Stella had begun to hold Nadia in such high regard.

  Stella was puzzled. “But why didn’t you tell me about them, Leonie?”

  “I didn’t think they were important. Besides, it’s only someone playing tricks on me.”

  “Expensive tricks,” said Katy, “for he’s sent twelve baskets this time.”

  Leonie stared at her. “Twelve?”

  “Yes, all exactly the same as Sunday’s. They must have cost him a small fortune. Anyway, I just don’t know where to put them all, and that’s why I think you should come down and see them. They’re causing ever such a stir in the vestibule, and Miss Hart’s furious about it.”

  “I’ll come straightaway,” said Leonie, leaning over to kiss Stella on the forehead. “I’ll come back and see you later.”

  The girl smiled and nodded. “All right. And, Leonie…?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’d like some roses in here, if you don’t want them.”

  “You shall have a whole basket to yourself.”

  As Leonie went down the stairs, she saw that there were indeed twelve baskets. She reflected that Rupert Allingham, Duke of Thornbury, must have taken leave of his senses. Fortunately there was no one in the vestibule now—Miss Hart had driven them all away to their various classes—and so Leonie was able to inspect the card in the nearest basket without anyone watching. “Leonie, my adored one. I worship you with all my heart. R.” Her lips parted on an angry gasp, and she picked up the next card, only to find its message equally as intimate and offensive. “My darling Leonie, please say you will soon be mine. R.”

  She went to all the other baskets, removing the cards and tossing them unread into the fire. “How dare he write such things to me and then send them in so public a way!”

  “But suppose he means what he’s written?” asked Katy, who had heard one of the pupils reading the cards out earlier.

  “He doesn’t, he’s merely trying to seduce me, and he’s so sure of himself that he thinks this will help him achieve what he wants. He’s very much mistaken, for I despise him as much as ever.”

  Katy glanced at the roses. “Whatever will we do with them all?”

  “Put them wherever you like, Katy, but be sure to take a basket to Stella, won’t you?”

  The maid nodded. “Miss Leonie….”

  “Yes?”

  “She’s bound to find out about them coming from the duke, you know.”

  “Maybe she won’t. I don’t want to tell her just yet, not now that Nadia Benckendorff has charmed her so.”

  “There’s a carriage outside,” said Katy, hurrying to the window by the door. She turned quickly back. “It’s him! It’s the Duke of Thornbury, and he’s coming to the door!”

  Leonie was startled, but quickly composed herself to face him. “Open the door, Katy, but be sure to remain here with me. I don’t want to be alone with him.”

  “Yes, Miss Leonie.” The maid opened the door just as Rupert had raised his cane to strike upon it. He was momentarily surprised, but then he saw Leonie and smiled. He stepped inside, removing his top hat. He wore the gray Polish greatcoat he had had on the first time she had seen him in the park.

  He came toward her. “Good morning, Miss Conyngham. I confess I did not expect to be greeted in person.” He made as if to take her hand.

  She moved coldly away. “I merely happened to be here, sirrah, so pray do not read anything more into my presence than there is.”

  He glanced at Katy and then back at Leonie. “May we not speak alone?”

  “No, sir, we may not. I have very unpleasant memories of the last time I was unfortunate enough to be alone with you.”

  “If I offended you then—”

  “Offended me? Sir, I found you as repellent then as I find you now. I wish you would leave me alone, and I certainly wish you would stop sending me flowers, which, incidentally, I have given away. I don’t like you, your roses, or the improper sentiments you’ve seen fit to write on the cards accompanying them.”

  “Improper sentiments? Leonie, I meant every word I wrote.”

  “I gave you no leave to address me so familiarly,” she replied. “And I don’t believe anything you say.”

  “But I’m serious about this,” he said, pausing then to glance again at Katy, who could hear every word he said. “Leonie, I don’t care if you don’t like me addressing you in this way, but I think of you by your first name and to me that is how I should speak to you. I do mean what I’m saying to you now, but I know that in the past I’ve both offended and angered you.”

  He spoke quietly and looked so earnestly into her eyes that she could almost have believed him, had she not known better! She laughed a little incredulously. “Sir, you’ve missed your vocation, you should be vying with Mr. Kean on the stage.”

  “Damn you for that!” he cried suddenly, as if she’d touched him upon a nerve. “I love you, can’t you understand? I love you and I want more than anything in the world that you should believe me.”

  She stared at him, astonished at the vehemence with which he spoke. Then, before she knew what was happening, he suddenly pulled her into his arms, kissing her passionately on the lips. He released her again almost immediately, but his eyes were dark and he seemed almost overcome with emotion. “I love you, Leonie,” he said, his voice husky. “I love you, and you must believe me!” Then he turned on his heel and left.

  The suddenness of the kiss had startled her, but as the door closed behind him, she turned quickly to Katy, her eyes flashing with fury. “How dare he! There wasn’t one word of truth in anything he said, and then he had the face to actually kiss me!”

  The maid lowered her eyes. “But, Miss Leonie, I believed him. I really think he does love you.”

  Leonie stared at her in astonishment.

  * * *

  Shortly afterward, when Leonie had at last commenced her first lesson of the day, Imogen came alone to the seminary. She wore a cream lawn gown under a fur-trimmed lilac pelisse, and her red hair was dressed up beneath a stylish beaver hat. She looked both beautiful and imperious as she instructed Joseph to conduct her to Stella’s room. He did as he was told, for there was something in her ma
nner which did not invite anything but immediate obedience.

  She entered Stella’s room unannounced, closing the door firmly on Joseph, who lingered nervously outside, wondering if he had done the right thing.

  Stella sat up slowly in the bed, her face going pale. “Why have you come here?” she whispered.

  “I think it’s time you and I had a little talk, don’t you?” replied Imogen smoothly, going to the window and gazing out over the snowy park. A basket of red roses stood on the table beside her, and her blue eyes flickered coldly toward them for a moment.

  “Please go,” said Stella.

  “Not before I’ve told you your uncle’s final decision concerning your future,” said Imogen, turning to face her. “You aren’t going to like this in the slightest, but there isn’t a single thing you can do about it….”

  * * *

  Leonie’s English grammar lesson was almost at an end when Joseph suddenly burst agitatedly into the classroom. “Miz Leonie! Please come quickly, it’s Miz de Lacey, she’s screaming and crying, and Katy can’t do anything with her!”

  Leonie rose slowly to her feet, staring at him in dismay. “But whatever has happened?”

  “Lady Imogen came to see her and when she left Miz de Lacey began to scream and scream! Miz Hart said I was to bring you straightaway!”

  Leonie gathered her skirts and ran from the room, leaving a buzz of interest among her pupils. She heard Stella’s hysterical sobs long before she reached the bedroom. The disturbance had attracted a great deal of attention and a group of pupils had gathered at the door, peering curiously inside. Leonie pushed her way through them and saw Stella lying facedown on the bed, sobbing as if her heart was breaking. Katy was attempting to calm her down, while Miss Hart stood nearby, looking tight-lipped and angry.

  Seeing Leonie, the headmistress advanced to her. “So you are here at last, missy,” she said icily. “I suppose one must be thankful that you do eventually attend to your duties, however belatedly. Well, since Sir Guy has seen fit to place you in charge of his niece, I believe it is now up to you to bring her under some semblance of control. I trust I do not need to remind you that the last thing I wish to do is send for Sir Guy, since that would reflect poorly upon the seminary. Am I quite clear?”