by Gayle Buck
“An understatement, my dear,” said Miss Blythe in her driest tone.
“Yes, well, perhaps it was,” said Lucinda, laughing.
Once more, Miss Mays frowned at something that she had not understood. There was the hint of reproach in her expressive eyes as she gazed at Lucinda and Miss Blythe. Timidly, she asked, “Surely you should not make such game when Mr. Stassart lies wounded and in pain?”
Lucinda made haste to school her own expression to an appropriate soberness. “You are perfectly right, Agnes. Perhaps the shock has unbecomingly overset us. We must all await the physician’s verdict, but I am positive that Mr. Stassart will recover.”
“Oh, I do hope so,” said Miss Mays fervently.
Lucinda addressed an aside to Miss Blythe. “Until we know better what to do, I suppose that we shall have to house Ferdie here since he told Lord Mays that he cannot return to his own lodgings.”
“Whyever not?” asked Miss Blythe. Almost at once, however, her penetrating mind was quick to devolve upon the most logical explanation. “Is Mr. Stassart perhaps hiding from his creditors?”
Lucinda grimaced. “Exactly so. At least, that is the understanding that he gave to Lord Mays. I am inclined to believe it is the truth, what’s more.”
“A pity, for his presence could place you in a rather awkward position,” observed Miss Blythe.
“I hope it does not! However, I shan’t discount the possibility,” said Lucinda. She slapped her hands together in an expression of annoyance. “Regardless, it is just like Ferdie to make a nuisance of himself. Whatever shall we do with him until he has recovered? For I tell you, I am of no mind to dance to any tune of his making!”
“Indeed not, my dear. Mr. Stassart is a rather selfish individual. He would run you into the ground with his demands within a week,” said Miss Blythe. “I suggest that he be left to his own devices. You certainly cannot be expected to entertain him, and he must accept that.”
Miss Mays had listened respectfully to the exchange, but with little comprehension of all that was said. However, Miss Blythe’s statement served to prick up her ears. A tiny burgeoning hope began to unfurl inside her. Perhaps there was a service that she could perform for dear Lady Mays, after all.
“Is Mr. Stassart a testy patient?” she asked hopefully.
Lucinda turned again to her sister-in-law, stifling a sigh. “I have every expectation of his being exactly that. My cousin is indeed a very selfish individual, as Tibby has observed. He sees the world only as it pertains to the acquisition of his own desires. He has already made the most shocking scene about his coat. It was the most nonsensical thing, too, when he had to be removed from it so that the physician could examine him. I dread to think what else he may complain about!”
“Oh.” Miss Mays appeared a little confused, but she was perfectly willing to enter into her ladyship’s feelings. Something else had been puzzling her about the business for some minutes and she asked, “How did Lord Mays come to rescue Mr. Stassart? Was he, too, at this disreputable place?”
Lucinda and Miss Blythe glanced at one another, equally surprised.
Miss Blythe’s brows arched. “My dear?”
Lucinda shook her head. “I do not know. Lord Mays did not relate how he came to be involved.”
“How very odd,” said Miss Blythe.
“Yes, it is. I must be certain to ask Wilfred about it when next I see him,” said Lucinda.
“Would that be wise, my dear? As I understand it, gentlemen do not care to divulge the details of their activities to females,” said Miss Blythe.
“I cannot see how that relates to Lord Mays and myself, Tibby, for we are the greatest of friends,” said Lucinda. “What has me in a puzzle is how Wilfred came to be mixed up at all with the sort of company that Ferdie keeps. Lord Mays does not strike me as having the instincts or the propensities of the gamester.”
“I am persuaded that there is a logical explanation,” said Miss Blythe. She kept to herself the astonishment she had felt at Lucinda’s casual manner in referring to her relationship to Lord Mays. Miss Blythe had observed that there was a good deal of liking between them, and certainly their manner together was easy, but she had had no notion that Lucinda thought so extremely well of Lord Mays. It was something to file away and reflect on later.
“Well, at any rate I am glad to know that your cousin is not badly hurt, my lady,” said Miss Mays. She offered a shy smile. “Good night.”
“Good night, Agnes,” said Lucinda.
The door closed softly, leaving Lucinda and Miss Blythe to continue on their way down the hallway.
Chapter Eighteen
Mr. Weatherby came to call the following morning. He was fortunate enough to find the ladies still at home. Mr. Weatherby was shown at once into the drawing room, where he received a warm welcome from Lady Mays and Miss Blythe.
“Mr. Weatherby, how nice to see you again,” said Lucinda, giving her hand to the gentleman. “I begin to count you as one of my friends, sir.”
“You are kind, my lady,” said Mr. Weatherby, bowing over her fingers. He turned then to Miss Blythe and smiled at her with a glinting expression in his frosty eyes. He shook her hand. “Miss Blythe. You are elegant as always.”
“Thank you, Mr. Weatherby,” said Miss Blythe, very much on her dignity. She had let her embroidery fall to her lap in order to offer her hand, but now she picked it back up. “We are naturally gratified that you have honored us today with a visit. I trust that you are well?”
“I am in rare form, ma’am. The signs of spring can be spotted if one looks closely enough, and it is a time of year in England that I always particularly enjoyed,” said Mr. Weatherby. His smile widened. “Spring is the time of new beginnings, Miss Blythe.”
“Yes, indeed. However, I believe that winter still has us in its grip,” said Miss Blythe quietly. She placed a careful stitch.
Mr. Weatherby laughed then. His eyes had come alight with unexplained devilment. “One might say so, Miss Blythe, but pray recall that winter inevitably gives way to spring.”
Miss Blythe’s eyes rose swiftly and, for a second, her unfathomable glance clashed with Mr. Weatherby’s gray gaze. “Indeed, sir?” she replied.
Lucinda judged from her former governess’s determinedly polite expression that Mr. Weatherby was belaboring the point. She tactfully attracted the gentleman’s attention. “Mr. Weatherby, I should like you to meet my sister-in-law. Miss Agnes Mays. Miss Mays arrived yesterday evening in order to spend some time with me this Season.”
Miss Mays had been sitting very unobtrusively to one side of the other two ladies. At Lucinda’s civil introduction, she gave a start and looked as though she could scarcely believe what she had heard. “Mr. Weatherby,” she stammered.
Mr. Weatherby honored the lady with a polite bow. Miss Mays was thrown into blushing confusion by this unprecedented distinction. Mr. Weatherby, rightly discerning that any further distinctions would completely overwhelm that backward damsel, turned his attention to the other ladies.
In the course of the conversation a passing reference was made to the unusual events of the night before.
“What is this about your cousin, Lady Mays?” asked Mr. Weatherby with a sharpened glance.
Lucinda was already regretting the slip of tongue that had set Mr. Weatherby to questioning her. Her mind worked quickly as to how she could best smooth over the mistake. The matter was not really any of the gentleman’s business, nor anyone else’s, after all. The least said the better, for she hoped to be quickly done with her cousin. “Why, there is little enough to tell.”
Miss Mays had sat quite still through several minutes of Mr. Weatherby’s visit, being completely intimidated by that gentleman’s presence. But at mention of what had been for her a terribly exciting experience, she could not contain herself. “Mr. Stassart sustained a horrible wound, and he is at this moment lying upstairs in a most grievous state,” she blurted.
Lucinda’s glance was reproac
hful. “Thank you, Agnes,” she said quietly. “I could not have put it more succinctly myself.”
Miss Mays positively quailed. Her fears instantly rose up to swamp her with the conclusion that she would be summarily dismissed as soon as Mr. Weatherby had left. She subsided in an agony of suspense.
There was nothing for it but to divulge the whole truth then, which Lucinda told concisely and without elaboration. At least there were no other visitors present to hear, she thought.
“And there you have it, Mr. Weatherby. I had no choice but to give what aid I could to my cousin, however foolishly he had acted.”
Mr. Weatherby stared from under frowning brows at his hostess. “Indeed, my lady? May I take leave to tell you that I believe sheltering him in this house to be rather unwise in light of our previous discussion?”
“I know that you think so, sir. But pray reflect a moment. What else was I to do in the circumstances? It was the middle of the night, and he was bleeding from his wound,” said Lucinda.
“You should have left him to the gutter,” said Mr. Weatherby bluntly.
His callous words were not well received. Miss Blythe frowned and shook her head. Miss Mays so far forgot herself as to give a little squeak of protest.
“I think not, Mr. Weatherby,” said Lucinda gently, coolly. “I would have succored anyone who was in such straits, let alone one who is my cousin.”
“You are too soft, my lady. But it is done now,” said Mr. Weatherby, shrugging. “Be rid of the puppy as soon as you can.”
Lord Mays was shown into the drawing room on the tail of this rider. He greeted the ladies and exchanged cordial words with Mr. Weatherby, before saying, “Were you discussing Stassart? I wish that I had not brought him here. I don’t care for the fellow.”
Mr. Weatherby gave a short bark of laughter. “Nor do I, my lord. I have seen his sort too often. He is an encroaching puppy. Since you were responsible for persuading your cousin, Lady Mays, to give Stassart the shelter of her roof, perhaps you may be equally persuasive in seeing that she is rid of him.”
“You trespass, Mr. Weatherby,” said Lucinda quietly.
Miss Blythe stared over her spectacles at Mr. Weatherby. Twin spots of color had risen in her cheeks. “Indeed, sir, I think that you have said enough.”
“Have I?” Mr. Weatherby’s mobile mouth twisted a little. He looked into Miss Blythe’s eyes a moment more, then turned away. “Perhaps I have, at that. Forgive me, Lady Mays. I spoke only from the purest of motives.”
“I am certain of that, Mr. Weatherby,” said Lucinda, accepting the gentleman’s apology with a gracious nod.
Lord Mays realized that he had walked into a difficult moment. He exerted himself to smooth over the obvious tension, introducing the latest on dits. The talk remained impersonal for the next several moments until Mr. Weatherby had taken his leave.
When the door had closed behind the gentleman, Lord Mays remarked, “A strange fellow, that, but he has a good head on his shoulders.”
“A strange man, indeed. But let us leave Mr. Weatherby, my lord. I have been all curiosity since Agnes raised the question to me last night,” said Lucinda. “However did you come to be at hand when my cousin found himself in such dire straits?”
Lord Mays threw a glance at Miss Blythe and Miss Mays. “It is not something that I care to bruit about, my lady.”
“Come, Wilfred! It is surely not as bad as all that. You may trust Tibby and Agnes, I assure you,” said Lucinda.
“Perhaps Lord Mays would feel more comfortable if Miss Mays and I were to leave you alone, my dear,” said Miss Blythe, rising. She had been rather quieter than was her usual for some seconds, and she actually seemed glad of the excuse to leave the drawing room. She gestured at Miss Mays. “Will you not accompany me, Miss Mays? I have a new direction for a silver net reticule up in my room that I am persuaded you might like.”
Miss Mays instantly rose to her feet. Her thoughts were so disordered after displeasing Lady Mays that she hardly knew what she was saying. “Yes, yes! I should like to view it very much.”
The two ladies quietly exited while Lord Mays was still attempting to think of a polite way to extricate himself from what he perceived to be a difficult position. He had not wanted to divulge anything at all about the previous night, but his reluctance over that had been superseded by the astonishing defection of Miss Blythe from her clear duty.
When the door had closed, Lucinda turned to his lordship. She smiled at him. “Now you may be perfectly comfortable, my lord!”
Lord Mays shook his head, frowning. “That was not at all well done, Lucinda. Now here we are without a chaperone and likely at any moment to be interrupted by some starched-up dame coming to make her call.”
“Oh, do you think that we would become grist for the gossip mill?” asked Lucinda, somewhat surprised. “The thought never entered my mind.”
Lord Mays did not appear to be at all gratified. He passed a hand over his sandy hair. “No, I know it. That is what is so particularly frustrating, Lucinda.”
“Come, Wilfred, pray do not be vexed with me. I promise you that I shall not be so careless again,” said Lucinda. As an afterthought, she added, “Yes, and particularly with Ferdie here. You are quite right, Wilfred. I must take particular care not to give ammunition of any sort to idle tongues. I should not be out of Tibby’s or Agnes’s company, ever, as long as my cousin is under this roof.”
Lord Mays was frowning at her now. “What has Stassart done?”
“Nothing at all. How could he when he is scarce able to raise his head? However, it would not be astonishing if something was made of the fact that my cousin is staying in my house,” said Lucinda.
Lord Mays was revolted by even the possibility of such talk. “That fellow Weatherby was right! You must rid yourself of Stassart without a moment’s loss.”
“And so I shall. As soon as he is able,” said Lucinda.
She laid her hand on his lordship’s sleeve and smiled coaxingly at him. “Now tell me, Wilfred. How did you chance on Ferdie just at that particular moment? Pray do not confess to me that you frequent those sorts of places, too.”
“Of course I do not! What a wild fellow you must think me,” said Lord Mays. “If you must have it, I was at that hell yesterday evening to extricate Gerald Thorpe from his folly.”
“That boy!” exclaimed Lucinda. “Was it Ferdie who took him there?”
“Stassart has introduced Gerald to the deepest plays in town,” said Lord Mays grimly. “Cecily found out somehow where they were going and begged me to stop Gerald from floating any more of his vowels. It seems that they are running dangerously close to dun territory. I have not cared for the role of bear-leader, but that is precisely what I have become this last fortnight.”
“How awful for you. Indeed, I quite see how uncomfortable it must have made you feel,” said Lucinda, fully appreciating his awkward position. “I suppose that Lord Thorpe has expressed some resentment at your interference?”
Lord Mays gave a short bark of laughter. “Yes, you may so, indeed! However, all that is at an end. We are on the best of terms again. When Stassart became embroiled in that quarrel, Gerald’s eyes were opened at last. He saw the folly of such a life and he has sworn that he is done with it.”
“Did you believe him to be sincere?” asked Lucinda. With her cousin’s example always before her, she could only wonder whether anyone who had once proven himself addicted to the game tables could simply walk away.
“Oh, yes,” replied Lord Mays coolly. “One does not mouth platitudes when one is fleeing for one’s life. It was Gerald who held the cutthroat at bay while I hauled Stassart up from the floor and began our retreat. There was never a better fellow in a tight corner.”
Lucinda thought she had probably heard as much as she cared to about Lord Mays’s adventure. She did not think that she would ever forget the sight of her cousin’s bloodied coat. However, there was no getting away from some discussion of her cousin.
“Wilfred, I should like to ask you advice about Ferdie. Do you think that I should just put him out as Mr. Weatherby suggested?” she asked. At Lord Mays’s frown, she shrugged. “I own, it does not sound at all the Christian thing to do when he is lying in bed weakened from his wound and from the physician’s bloodletting. At the same time, Ferdie is such a weasel that I can scarcely regard him with any charity at all!”
Lord Mays took a short turn about the room, throwing over his shoulder, “I have done a bit of asking around.” He turned to her again and said somberly, “Stassart was not exaggerating when he claimed that the tipsters were after him. If he should reappear at his lodgings in the state that he is in, there will be no saying but that he might at once be hauled off to debtor’s prison.”
“Oh, no! Though Ferdie may well deserve such a fate, I would forever have it on my conscience that it was at my hand that he was finally apprehended,” said Lucinda.
Lord Mays nodded. “I thought that would be your feeling. The paltry fellow cannot run to save himself if he is laid fast by the heels in bed. Stands to reason. So I thought that I shall take him back to my lodgings. Only until he is on the mend, of course. No one would think of looking for him there, for we are mere acquaintances.”
“But did you not say that you were living in such a cramped style that there was no room for him?” asked Lucinda.
“Yes, well, that was true. But that was before I thought of giving up my bed to Stassart. I could take my man’s cot and he could sleep on the floor,” said Lord Mays.
“I could not possibly allow you to put yourself out in such a fashion, Wilfred!” said Lucinda.
“I would as lief not,” said Lord Mays frankly. “Deuced uncomfortable it would be.”
“Oh, if only I knew which of Ferdie’s friends I might call upon,” said Lucinda, slapping her palms together. Her eyes suddenly lit up. She put her hand on his sleeve. “Lord Levine and Mr. Pepperidge! The very thing. Wilfred, could you please go to them for me and explain the circumstances? Ferdie simply must not remain here.”
