“Good afternoon, Your Grace.” She curtsied.
“My lady.” He touched the brim of his hat and bowed. “How delightful it is to see you again.” Edward imagined she was the solution to his difficulties. If only he could devise a way to rid himself of the company of his daughter.
Oh, that did sound harsh.
“I see Constance with her fiancé.” Augusta had no trouble finding her relatives as an excuse to leave him alone with her friend. “I must congratulate them on their engagement. Be a dear, Papa, and keep Lady Vernon company, if you please?”
“It would be my most sincere pleasure.” He could not imagine any situation turning out better. Focusing on said lady, Edward thought he detected the slightest flush wash across her cheeks, an easy enough accomplishment for a schoolgirl, not so common in a woman of sense and maturity.
“Do excuse me, my lady.” Augusta smiled and with a knowing look soon departed.
Edward offered Lady Vernon his escort.
“Thank you, sir.” She slipped her gloved hand through his arm.
“I should be the one thanking you for accepting my invitation.” Edward led her down the path. Augusta was now far enough away he could speak to his companion freely. “I am ashamed to say that it was very last-minute, and I would have understood if you had declined.”
“Think nothing of it, Your Grace.” Lady Vernon’s radiant smile reached her eyes, and at that moment the significance of her sincerity struck him. “I am gratified that I should be of some service to you.”
Service? was that what she thought this was? “Ma’am, you do me the greatest honor, truly.” Edward leaned away and bowed his head. “At least you could have allowed me to send a coach to transport you.”
“Oh, no. I had, by chance, already been offered conveyance to the party. I had not thought I would attend, you see. Not until I received your note, and, after reading it, I could not refuse.”
It occurred to him there was something familiar about her beyond their last encounter, although he could not say what it was, and he allowed the thought to pass. “Excellent. This all works out well, really. I’ve decided that I rather enjoy myself when in your company.”
“Oh?” She appeared a bit shocked at his statement.
“I don’t feel as if I need to avoid you or deflect your attention, you see.” He smiled, hoping to put her at ease. “Which, I must admit, makes me very comfortable. You may be the only person who truly understands my position.”
“Then you are welcome to find a respite whenever I am about,” she assured him. “I must warn you, though. I do not go out much. My attendance at such gatherings is very rare, indeed.”
“Well, then, I suppose I must see if I can tempt you to join us more often, if not for yourself then for my benefit.” He laid his free hand upon hers with optimistic thoughts for the remainder of the day.
“Do you like flowers, Lady Vernon?” he asked.
“Flowers?” Louise nearly choked. Was this a trap where His Grace would catch her in her deception as the Conduit Street gardener? She remained calm and answered, “I adore flowers, just as all females do, I imagine.”
“Excellent, then we shall follow the path ahead, accompany the long line of guests on their turn about the garden, and if we are fortunate—if, I say, because as you can see Mother Nature has not been cooperative—we may be lucky enough to find a snowdrop or two.”
“A snowdrop? At this time of year?” Louise could not believe he was teasing her.
“You must admit the weather has been so abysmally cold, nothing else could bloom.”
“Yes, I suppose you’re correct,” she confessed, relieved he meant nothing by his statement. “I had given half a thought to bringing my umbrella.”
“I thought planning a garden party daring, at best.” The Duke pulled his coat snugly around him. “Are you certain you are warm enough, my lady?”
“What a question to ask in the middle of June.”
“I do not wish you to be doused with liquid sunshine.” He gazed at the gray clouds above him and laughed. “It is entirely possible we could be caught in a downpour and catch our deaths this very fine summer afternoon.”
She giggled despite herself. “If it rains then I suppose we could find shelter in the conservatory yonder.”
“Two hundred people in that tiny glass structure trying to remain dry? That would be something to see.” He laughed again.
At this moment he was so very happy to share in her company. He enjoyed walking beside her regardless of the gray and damp that surrounded them. Edward felt an unusual glow of warmth within.
He laid his free hand over hers, which rested in his elbow, and pressed it with affection.
A gasp of surprise escaped from her lips. “What is it? Is there something amiss, sir?”
“No, I just realized—” Chuckling at his good fortune, he was actually enjoying himself.
“You are appearing too well satisfied. I daresay you will give anyone who observes you the wrong idea of what goes on between us, and your children false hope,” she said, concerned. “You must not show that you are so glad of sidestepping matrimony.”
All mirth fled from his face. “You are quite right. I must be aware of my actions.”
“Your Grace! YOUR GRACE!” an elderly woman’s quaver called out to him.
Edward led Lady Vernon out of the procession and looked about, discovering Lady Gelsthorpe and Miss Dillingham quickly approaching.
“Ladies”—the Duke touched the brim of his hat and inclined his head—“good afternoon.”
“We are delighted to see you again.” Lady Gelsthorpe turned to Lady Vernon.
Miss Dillingham remained quiet, only glancing at Lady Vernon, not even daring an attempt to gaze upon the Duke.
“We had some notion you had been abandoned, Lady Vernon, but we see now you are in very good company.” It was clear Lady Gelsthorpe had something in mind, and Louise would not for the world interfere in her plans.
“Yes, the Duke has been kind enough to occupy my time until the return of Lady Augusta,” she informed the Dowager.
“Oh, we saw her conclude her conversation with her relatives as we passed by. If we are not mistaken, she was heading in this direction and will soon be among us.”
“Well, I suppose I must find her, then.” Lady Vernon glanced at the Duke, and he sensed she could somehow see his displeasure through his well-practiced impassive expression.
“We shall be delighted to accompany you.” As if an afterthought, she seemed to notice Miss Dillingham. “Oh, Effie! You cannot remain here by yourself.”
“No, my lady,” was Miss Dillingham’s soft reply.
“Duke, would you oblige us by keeping our goddaughter company? A walk to the conservatory, perhaps, while we accompany Lady Vernon to dear Lady Augusta’s side?” The offer was not as magnanimous as it had sounded. But the Duke was too much a gentleman to decline.
Reluctantly, Edward relinquished Lady Vernon’s hand. “We shall continue our discussion some other time, my lady.”
“As you say, Your Grace. I shall look forward to it.” Lady Vernon stepped away and bowed her head.
“Miss Dillingham, if you please.” Edward offered his arm.
“Excellent,” Lady Gelsthorpe intoned. “Shall we go, Louise?”
Lady Vernon straightened, and time appeared to slow to a stop as her russet-colored bonnet tilted away from him. Edward caught the sigh of…of…and he stilled, unable to look away from her.
The slowly rising brim of a hat revealed Lady Vernon’s deep brown, wide-open eyes, gazing up at him.
Edward swallowed; his breath caught.
He knew those eyes…they were so very familiar to him. The shape, the color, the expressions…of course! They were the very same ones he had sketched.
How had he not realized before now?
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The two halves of his world were coming together. Edward’s experience with Lady Vernon as the garde
ner and as the widow, good friend to his daughter—Augusta, not Muriel as he had first thought—and favorite aunt of his well-regarded friend Sir Samuel Pruitt, instantly melded into one woman. Edward found it difficult to imagine they were one and the same. But it was true.
Instead of attending to the female on his arm, he glanced over his shoulder, wanting to chase after Lady Vernon and make certain this notion of his was not some mad make-believe fancy.
Why had it taken him so long to puzzle it out? How did he not see it from the first?
“I am sorry, Your Grace,” the soft voice said next to him. It was Miss Dillingham.
“I beg your pardon?” The Duke felt the pull of obligation to the woman on his arm. All he wanted to do was think about Louise Vernon and the mystery surrounding her. “Sorry about what?”
“About Lady Gelsthorpe obliging you to take a turn with me, but she is not to be puffed off, you know.” Miss Dillingham still couldn’t quite look at him when she spoke.
“No, I agree. You are completely right.” On the other hand if Lady Gelsthorpe had not intruded and not insisted she return Lady Vernon to Augusta’s side, he would have never experienced his revelation. “And I beg your pardon, you should not be put in this position. It must be equally uncomfortable for you.”
Miss Dillingham continued their stroll without another word. This, in its own way, made their circumstance equally uneasy for the both of them.
The excitement of discovery filled Edward’s mind. He wanted to remember every word spoken with the gardener and Lady Vernon, recall the moments they’d spent together, hoping for some similar phrase, thought, or gesture he could use to reassure himself they were the same person. Without the benefit of further contemplation, he could not be completely certain that Louise was the gardener or the lady gardener was Louise. He needed to turn his attention to the woman in his company.
“Do tell me, Miss Dillingham, what interests you?” Edward inquired in earnest.
“I’ve come to Town to stay with my godmother. Everything I’ve seen, everywhere I’ve gone, fascinates me. We’ve been out about Town and seen the theater and opera, driven through Hyde Park, and, as you know, visited the Art Exhibition.”
“I do recall.” He was having difficulty keeping his attention trained on her. Miss Dillingham began to recount her impression of the Art Exhibition. Unfortunately, her words were unmemorable the moment they passed from her lips, and he felt at a loss to assemble an adequate response.
“I attend a reading group,” she finally added when he did not reply. “We’re reading a novel entitled Emma.”
“And are you enjoying the book?”
“Oh, yes! It is ever so diverting. There is Miss Emma Woodhouse, you see, she—” Miss Dillingham began, her manner growing more animated.
Edward strolled beside her with his full attention on something quite different. He thought about observing the lady gardener at Conduit Street. Her brown eyes were honestly the only feature he could study. She had covered the lower half of her face with a strip of linen and covered her hair under the hat.
“Mr. Elton finds it easier to speak to Miss Woodhouse than to Miss Smith, which is quite understandable once one understands what great esteem he has for the heroine of the story. I believe he’s a bit shy, the poor man.” Miss Dillingham sighed with some pleasure. “Indeed, Mr. Elton cannot bring himself to openly gaze at or smile upon Miss Smith.”
Louise Vernon, on the other hand, had the most delightful smile. Edward had not taken much notice of her eyes because he had been distracted by her smile. She had been an advocate for his single state. She spoke her mind, agreeing with him for the most part. She was his companion and for a few hours this afternoon, his coconspirator. Was there any other similarity that could reassure him?
“…and Mr. Elton’s riddle was really very clever,” Miss Dillingham continued. “Miss Woodhouse had to help Miss Smith decipher it. Oh, what a puzzle it was!”
That’s exactly what this was…a puzzle. He wasn’t certain how he would go about proving Lady Vernon and the gardener were one in the same without asking her outright, which for some reason he did not think the best course of action. In that instant, he knew it did not matter who the lady was, for his feelings for her had solidified, and he had experienced a complete and sudden change of heart.
His admiration for one and his gratefulness to the other had somehow altered into an emotion far stronger. Then it hit him.
He loved her.
It was a silly thing to admit for someone his age, but Edward knew, without a doubt, she was the only woman who could fill the void in his heart.
“Come now, Lady Vernon,” Lady Gelsthorpe entreated. “Let us not linger after the Duke. He and Euphemia need to be private.”
Louise’s gaze, and momentary grief, lingered after him. Not because she had regretted her own loss of privacy but because she had failed him.
“Let us head in this direction.” Lady Gelsthorpe indicated a parallel path, at a safe distance apart where she could still watch the couple and remain undetected. “It is well-known His Grace is in search of a wife, and dear Euphemia would make a splendid duchess.”…with our help went unsaid.
The Duke could no more refuse the Dowager Countess than Louise could. Actually, no one would dare make the attempt unless they were royalty. The King or Queen would succeed, and perhaps even the Prince Regent might prove successful.
“Is that not the Duke’s daughter?” Louise gestured to their left, and there was Augusta waving to her relatives, looking as if she were making her farewell. Augusta saw Louise and approached.
“Are we acquainted?” Lady Gelsthorpe might have raised her lorgnette had she been wearing it. “You seem very familiar to us.”
“Are we acquainted? No.” Augusta smiled and curtsied. Louise could not understand why tension seemed to have suddenly filled the air, lending an even chillier atmosphere than the drizzly, gray afternoon.
“We have not had the pleasure of an introduction, I think.”
“Allow me to do so now.” Louise made the proper introductions.
“So you are the Duke’s eldest daughter?” Lady Gelsthorpe drew her deep-violet-colored skirts close to her, or was she drawing away from Augusta?
Augusta nodded that she was.
“We had noticed His Grace’s marked interest in Miss Dillingham, my goddaughter, since their introduction last night. Now he accompanies her down the path. How well they look together, do you not agree?”
“Yes. Oh, yes, indeed,” Augusta remarked in an amused and knowing way.
Louise had noticed no such thing. Perhaps she did not wish to see it. Miss Dillingham was very pretty…and young. Why would His Grace not find her delightful company? Perhaps she would change his mind about marrying again.
“It is regretful but we must leave you both before the couple strays too far.” The imperious wave of her hand conjured one of her footmen, who came immediately to lend his escort.
“Good day to you, then, my lady.” Augusta sounded far more pleased by the Dowager’s departure than by the greeting a moment before. With a shallow curtsy and the nod of her head, Louise bid the Dowager Countess farewell.
Lady Gelsthorpe had not quite rushed away, but in a matter of a few strides had fled their company.
“I thought you were walking with Papa?” Augusta whispered to Louise.
“We came upon my lady and Miss Dillingham.” Louise glanced over her shoulder, looking where she had seen them last, in the opposite direction from which Lady Gelsthorpe had gone. “His Grace could not avoid escorting her goddaughter.”
“Oh, that odious creature!” No one around them heard Augusta’s muffled outburst. “There is nothing for it.” With an exhale she regained her composure.
“I do not have a claim on your father,” Louise reminded her friend. “Your father was merely doing me a kindness.”
“I should say not. I daresay he had no more wish to escort her than I have keeping Lady Gelsthorpe
’s company.” By the slight narrowing of her eyes and sharp intake of breath it was clear that, again, Augusta had controlled her emotions. “I have just left my aunts, Louise, and you will never guess what they’ve told me.”
Louise had no notion to delay the news and had in mind she would not interrupt. She gazed at Augusta with interest.
“Lord Fieldstone is betrothed to Miss Shrope.”
“Lord Brent’s Miss Shrope?” Louise had heard some gossip regarding the two. How he had courted her: the dances, the drives in the Park, and the tokens of his—it sounded to her—very great esteem for the young lady. “How disappointed your brother will be when he learns of Miss Shrope’s engagement. I know he called on her often. He must have been quite fond of her.”
“One could think so. I believe Freddie might grieve the loss of Lord Fieldstone even more than of the lady.” Augusta leaned closer and whispered, “Freddie’s attention was not for Miss Shrope but for Lady Shrope on our father’s behalf.”
“Oh!” came Louise’s shocked reply. “Lord Brent could not treat Miss Shrope in such an ill-feeling manner.”
“I believe it was an arrangement between them.”
“Do not say so!” The notion they both had a match in mind for their parent was…was…unthinkable. How horrible it was that one could not even trust one’s own children! What was the world coming to?
“Yes, Freddie will regret the match, there is no doubt about that. He and Lord Fieldstone have spent a great deal of time together of late.” Augusta shook her head as if in recollection. “I am glad his lordship has finally found someone. He’s not an easy man to please, you know, and he hardly ever smiles.”
“Surely you jest.” Louise chuckled. “Everyone smiles.”
“Oh, no, not he. I know for a fact that he takes his matrimonial matters quite seriously. I’m afraid Freddie will have to find another best pal for making mischief.”
Louise wasn’t quite sure what Augusta meant by mischief. Lord Brent must certainly be as upstanding as his father, as his sisters, as his whole family.
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