by Brenda Hiatt
"You are most kind, Miss O'Day," replied Prudence, pushing her mousy brown hair away from her rather plain face. "I don't know why Mother always insists that I play, for she cannot reasonably believe others will be impressed by it."
Mr. Willoughby's playing was, if anything, inferior to Miss Childs's, but he continued gamely for a song or two, until Mrs. Winston-Fitts, apparently feeling that her daughter would appear to better advantage with a more skilled accompanist, applied to Lord Dearborn.
"My lord, surely you play?" she asked. "I vow, there is no better way to pass quiet evenings at home than in music, one partner playing and the other singing."
Lord Dearborn was obliged to shatter this picture of domestic bliss by replying, "I fear I never developed my skill beyond the most elementary level, ma'am. My voice is better suited to display than are my fingers, I fear."
"Then you and Rosalind must sing a duet," suggested Rosalind's fond mama instantly. "Elinor, perhaps you would take a turn at the instrument." Her reluctance to allow her niece to put herself forward was clearly overshadowed by her desire to place Rosalind and the Earl in such close, and potentially romantic, proximity.
Ellie reluctantly advanced to the pianoforte. She had no doubt that she would perform creditably, for she had excelled in music before her parents' death, though she had had few occasions to play since. But she hated to cast poor Prudence Childs in the shade, especially so soon after befriending the girl.
As the three of them launched into a lively country air, the surprise of the assembled company was apparent. Ellie was surprised herself, not only that she had remembered the tune so well, but also that Lord Dearborn proved to possess an exceptionally fine baritone singing voice, which he used to great advantage in the rollicking tune.
Ellie listened to him with delight, scarcely noticing the approving look he cast her way. Rosalind's voice blended sweetly with the Earl's, Ellie noticed, but she refused to let jealousy interfere with her delight in the music.
Spurred on by the excellence of the singers, Ellie felt that she had never before played so easily or so well. At the end of the song, the other guests, along with Lady Dearborn, broke into spontaneous applause.
"That was marvellous!" exclaimed the Countess. "What a good idea this was, Mrs. Winston-Fitts. Come, let us have another! "
The trio obliged, Ellie varying the tempo from brisk to slow and sweet, and then back again to a country reel that set everyone's toes to tapping. At the end of the third song, Rosalind shyly declared herself to be out of breath, looking to her mother for permission to stop.
"Very well, I suppose that is enough for one evening, sweetheart," answered her proud parent. Her plans were moving along well and she was in charity with the world at the moment. "You might stop as well if you like, Elinor," she said almost kindly to her niece.
"Are you fatigued, Miss O'Day?" asked Lord Dearborn, looking down at her with raised eyebrows. "I confess, I was just beginning to enjoy myself."
"I am perfectly willing to continue if you are, my lord," she said readily. "Rosie began before either of us, so she has some excuse for retiring." Her intention was to turn the Earl's attention back to her cousin, for she was finding his steady regard unsettling, but she failed of her object.
"Do you know any Irish airs?" he asked, continuing to gaze at her face. Ellie nodded and launched immediately into one of her favourites so that he would be forced to sing before her colour could rise any further and perhaps excite the suspicions of her aunt.
The two of them continued at the instrument until the tea tray was brought in, in spite of several attempts by Mrs. Winston-Fitts to lure Lord Dearborn back to her daughter's side. Nor could she prevail on Rosalind to sing again, but was forced to watch the very tableau she had envisaged at the pianoforte, only with different characters.
To increase her chagrin, Lady Dearborn commented at one point, "How well they perform together! Why did you not tell us at once how well your niece plays, Mrs. Winston-Fitts?"
She was forced to make a vague disclaimer about letting the other young people participate, realizing that Elinor was in danger of eclipsing Rosalind yet again, this time without opening her mouth. The knowledge that she herself had suggested the evening's entertainment, and Elinor's playing in particular, did nothing to soothe her temper.
* * *
"It was quite selfish of you to monopolize the instrument all evening, Elinor," said Mrs. Winston-Fitts to her niece as they retired to their rooms for the night an hour or two later. "I daresay Miss Childs would have been happy of another chance to perform."
Her hand already on the doorknob to her chamber, Ellie started and turned at this unexpected attack. "Lady Emma might have been, but Prudence most certainly would not," she informed her aunt with more honesty than wisdom. "She told me herself how she detests being forced to play before company. At any rate, it was at your request that I began, and at Lord Dearborn's and his mother's that I remained. Would you have had me refuse?"
Ellie was still exhilarated by the experience of accompanying the Earl, and even more so by the approving —and at times, something more than approving —looks he had cast her way during their recital. She had not yet had time to analyse her feelings, but knew that she felt more alive than she had in years. Thus, she was more than usually willing to defend herself against her aunt's unjust accusations. Her uncle nodded at her encouragingly.
"No, of course you could not refuse," replied Aunt Mabel ill-naturedly. "But you might have feigned fatigue rather than show off, as dear Rosalind did."
Ellie shot a glance at her cousin, wondering if she would refute her mother's assumption; but Rosalind, though looking somewhat nettled, said nothing.
"Very well, ma'am," Ellie finally said, her high spirits fading. "I will attempt to take your advice in future. Must I also feign ignorance of whist, if we are to play tomorrow night, as Lady Dearborn suggested?" She could not quite keep the note of bitterness from her voice, but her aunt seemed not to notice.
"Whist! That reminds me," said Mrs. Winston- Fitts, diverted. "You must spend tomorrow morning teaching Rosalind to play, for it will never do for Dearborn to discover that she is ignorant of the game. He appears quite fond of it, and she will doubtless be expected to play occasionally after their marriage."
Ellie felt her spirits sink further at this reminder. "Of course, Aunt Mabel. Shall we meet just after breakfast, Rosie?"
Rosalind agreed with a show of enthusiasm that put the finishing touch to her cousin's sudden depression. It was obvious to Ellie that Rosalind wished to please the Earl by learning the game, which could only speak of her growing affection for him.
"I'll see you in the morning, then. Good night, Aunt Mabel, Uncle Emmett. Good night, Rosie." With an effort, she kept a smile on her face.
Gone was her pleasant plan of reliving her musical evening as she drifted off to sleep, recalling every glance, every word, that the Earl had directed her way. She now wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and sleep, preferably without dreams.
* * *
CHAPTER 12
ROSALIND'S INSTRUCTION at whist had to be put off the next morning when the Countess suggested a tour of some other parts of the estate. Ellie, along with Rosalind and her parents, had just served themselves from the ample selection on the sideboard when their hostess breezed in, turquoise scarves and orange feathers flying, to acquaint them with her plans.
"The grounds on the western side of the house are well worth seeing," she informed them, "and there is a very pretty duck pond that I am persuaded you will like, Miss Winston-Fitts. I have been meaning to walk over that way myself, in any event, for I must have a look at the dower house before ordering its refurbishing." This was said with a suggestive look at Rosalind, which she missed entirely as her eyes were on her plate. The significance was by no means lost on her mother, however, who smiled complacently.
A short time later, everyone but the Fenwicks ventured out: the ladies to see the beauties th
e grounds offered and the gentlemen, at Forrest's suggestion, to discover what the fishing might be like. The Countess set a surprisingly brisk pace, and the group arrived at the dower house in under ten minutes. Ellie looked eagerly about her as they went, revelling in the feel of soft, springy grass beneath her feet and the warm, rich scents of early summer.
"Here we are," said Lady Dearborn cheerily as they came within sight of a handsome half-timbered house. "I vow, I can scarcely wait to live here. I have always wished to be a dowager, you know," she said conspiratorially to Mrs. Winston-Fitts, but in a voice loud enough for all to hear. "Then my eccentricities might be more readily excused. I have enough of them, goodness knows!"
Ellie glanced at the Earl as his mother spoke to see how he would react to her blatant prodding and was diverted to see his colour deepen. Never one to dwell on her own disappointments, she could not help smiling at Lady Dearborn's humour and her son's discomfiture at it. Lord Dearborn caught her amused glance and grimaced in response, rolling his eyes at his mother's words. Ellie stifled a giggle and quickly looked away, lest the others —her aunt in particular —notice and question the nature of their private joke.
As the Countess moved ahead, she heard Mrs. Winston-Fitts murmur to Rosalind, "There, my dear! Doubtless Lady Dearborn will take all her beastly cats along with her to the dower house once you are married."
Ellie suddenly lost any desire to laugh.
After a brief tour of the dower house, which was of handsome proportions, if in need of redecorating, the ladies went on to see the duck pond while the Earl led the gentlemen in the direction of a small lake fed by the stream they had crossed on their first approach to the house. As she had the day before, the Countess attempted to draw Rosalind out of herself, but with no more success. Meanwhile, Ellie was striking up a friendship with Lord Dearborn's sister, Lady Glenhaven.
"Teddy loves to come here for the fishing," Juliet confided to Miss O'Day after the gentlemen departed. "He would spend the entire summer here in that pursuit if he did not need to attend to his own estates, I believe."
"My father was fond of the sport, also," Ellie told her, "and I must admit that I rather enjoy it myself, though I have not had a chance to fish, of course, since I was quite a child." She was liking Lady Glenhaven very well. Though Juliet was nearly as shy as Rosalind, what little of her conversation Ellie had so far heard showed her to be both intelligent and informed.
"Do you really?" Lady Glenhaven was delighted. "I did so as a girl, as well. Perhaps the two of us might slip out one morning to indulge —I believe my old tackle box and poles are still in the stables."
Ellie had just acceded to the plan when Mrs. Winston-Fitts called out for her to keep up. She wrinkled her nose at her aunt's peremptory tone, which caused Juliet to choke with laughter. With a final smile for her new friend, Ellie trotted to Mrs. Winston-Fitts's side to echo any praises she might utter on her daughter's behalf for the remainder of the tour.
* * *
"No, No, Rosie! You have to follow suit!" Though normally patience itself with her cousin's slower understanding, Ellie was growing increasingly exasperated after nearly an hour of trying to explain the rudiments of whist to her. "Really, you must attend."
"Perhaps I won't play tonight, after all," said Rosalind, pushing her cards to the centre of the table with a sigh. "I cannot seem to grasp it at all."
"But I thought you wished to learn, to please the Earl and his mother," Ellie reminded her, gathering up the cards so that she could deal them out again. She had intended to go over a hand or two with all cards showing, and then ask her aunt and uncle to make up a table for a few practice games, but Rosalind was not yet ready for that step.
"I thought I did, too, for it sounded like fun. But I had no idea it would be so difficult."
"It's not— well, never mind. It is almost time to dress for dinner. Perhaps you can sit out tonight and we can try again tomorrow." Ellie had no real enthusiasm for another attempt just then, either.
* * *
That evening, the Countess was determined not to be put off again. Really, it had been ages since she had enjoyed a good game of whist! She had invited the vicar for dinner that evening solely because he was one of the best players she knew of, barring Forrest and herself, of course. Therefore, when the ladies entered the drawing-room after dinner, four tables had already been set up at Lady Dearborn's express orders.
"How went Rosalind's lesson this afternoon, Elinor?" asked Mrs. Winston-Fitts in an undertone, seeing the inevitable before her.
"Not well, I'm afraid, Aunt Mabel," Ellie confessed. "I fear she is by no means ready to play against anyone of skill." Or anyone who understands the rules, she added silently.
"How can that be? The two of you were closeted together for an hour!" her aunt hissed. "You said you knew the game. I am most disappointed in you, Elinor."
Lady Dearborn directed a comment her way just then, and Mrs. Winston-Fitts turned with a brittle smile. "I beg your pardon, my lady. Of course, we shall all be delighted to play."
"Excellent!" The Countess beamed. "Lady Emma is feeling poorly, and wishes to retire early, but with Mr. Marsh here, we will have just sixteen."
In truth, from something Forrest had told her, she had expected Miss Winston-Fitts, and possibly her parents, to beg off, as well. The news that Forrest's Rosalind could in fact play came as a welcome surprise to her.
The gentlemen came in a few minutes later, and Lady Dearborn immediately appropriated Mr. Marsh, the vicar, as her partner. "Forrest, perhaps you and Miss Winston-Fitts would like to play at our table," she suggested. That would allow her to gauge the level of her future daughter-in-law's play.
To her surprise, however, Forrest responded, "I'll be happy to be your opponent, Mother, but it will have to be with Miss O'Day as my partner. I have already promised to test her skill at the game. Perhaps we can mix up the tables later on," he added as an afterthought, apparently realizing that his response might seem to slight the girl he had all but offered for.
As they took their places, he whispered to Ellie, "I thought you said Miss Winston-Fitts and her mother did not play," with a significant nod to the table where all three Winston-Fittses were seated with John Willoughby. The elder Willoughbys were seated opposite Sir William and Lady Fenwick, while Miss Childs and Timothy Willoughby challenged Lord and Lady Glenhaven.
"I can't answer for Aunt Mabel, but I cannot but sympathize with Mr. Willoughby as Rosalind's partner," Ellie whispered back, "for I gave her her first lesson in the game this afternoon. Perhaps in actual play she will pick it up fairly quickly." This last was said more in the spirit of complimenting Rosalind to her future husband than from any conviction that her words might prove true.
The Countess called their attention to the game at that point, and Ellie was soon completely absorbed in the play. The years since she had last played seemed to melt away as she kept careful count of the cards as they were laid on the table, theorizing which ones were likely left in which player's hand. The mathematics at which she had always excelled as a girl stood her in good stead in the game, just as it had contributed to her skill at the pianoforte. When points were counted up at the end of the hand, Ellie and Lord Dearborn were well in the lead.
"It is a good thing the stakes tonight are imaginary, or we should owe my son and Miss O'Day a small fortune, Mr. Marsh," said Lady Dearborn when the Earl and Ellie made game a few hands later. "Forrest, why did you not warn me that we had an expert in our midst? I vow, I don't believe you misplayed one card, Miss O'Day."
"I was dealt good hands, my lady," Ellie disclaimed. "I do enjoy whist, though. It was my father's favourite game."
"And his father's, too, as I recall," replied the Countess with a reminiscent smile. "Lord Kerrigan was a formidable player when he was young, and I do not doubt that he has improved with age."
Soon after that, the assembled party stopped to take some refreshment before sitting down again with different partners. This t
ime Ellie was partnered by Juliet, playing opposite the Willoughby brothers, while Lord Dearborn teamed with Miss Winston-Fitts to play opposite her father and the Countess. Mrs. Winston-Fitts was successful in persuading the Fenwicks and Prudence Childs to sit out and observe for a while.
"Perhaps I can win back some of what I have lost," said John Willoughby cheerfully as he seated himself. "To think I grumbled about the stakes being imaginary tonight!" He shook his head and groaned.
"You'll not win any back if we can help it, John," said Lady Glenhaven with the easy banter of long familiarity. "The ladies will win the day, you'll see."
Unfortunately for the Willoughbys, she was correct. Juliet was no mean player herself and her skill, combined with Ellie's, allowed the brothers very few points, though the dealing, if anything, was in the young men's favour.
"We make a good team, do we not?" she asked as she tallied up their winnings after a final, hard-fought hand. "You had best take care, Miss O'Day, or Mama will never let you leave Huntington Park. She is constantly on the alert for good whist players to add to her circle."
Ellie returned a suitably light remark, but she could feel her insides contracting. More and more, it looked as though she was to be forced to stay here after Rosalind's marriage, and much as she was growing to love the house and its inhabitants, she could think of no fate more certain to bring her constant pain. She prayed that the longed-for invitation from her grandfather might come soon.
* * *
"Are you certain you have no clubs?" Forrest asked Rosalind as she played a six of hearts on the five of clubs he had led.
"Oh, yes, I suppose I do." She picked up the card she had played and replaced it with the king of clubs, which he had been fairly certain she held. As a matter of fact, she had misplayed so many times that he had seen nearly every card in her hand by now—as had their opponents.
