My Lord's Lady

by Sherrill Bodine

  “Quite simple,” Vane drawled, flicking an invisible speck of lint from his impeccable coat. “Delacorte was a bore. Still is. No one liked him. Still don’t. You, on the other hand, were extremely likable. When presented with such a choice, there was only one logical course of action to embrace.”

  Only because she’d been watching so intently did Georgina catch a faint shadow in Vane’s—Forry’s—eyes. Forry. What an unusual name. She’d never heard anyone use it with Vane before. Somehow it made him seem more human.

  Truly, who was the man? His nature was a mysterious contradiction; he seemed remote from the world, yet she had seen evidence of his kindness.

  “Dinner is served.” Foweley stood in the doorway.

  Vane appeared anxious to quit the room; he presented his arm to Tildie and swept her out. She followed with Sabrina, each of them taking one of Amesley’s gallantly presented arms.

  As promised Lawrence and Leticia were waiting, standing behind their places. Vane’s son was dressed in a scaled-down replica of his dark formal wear, and Leticia was in a pink frock, which made her cheeks glow like ripe apples.

  In fact, to a mother’s keen eye, both children appeared flushed. It was a trifle warm in this small dining parlor, and she felt she mustn’t overstep her bounds again.

  The highly polished table was sized so she and Lawrence were seated on one side, and across, Amesley was flanked by Sabrina and Leticia. Vane sat at one end with Tildie in the place of honor at the other.

  Georgina smiled into the little boy’s stern face and resisted the urge to brush back an errant curl of red-brown from his forehead. He was so like his father. How she’d love to see him run and play.

  “Are you feeling well, Lawrence?” she asked softly.

  Immediately he stiffened his shoulders and sat up even straighter in his chair. He looked at her with his father’s blue eyes, and blinked. “Yes, I am quite well. Thank you, Lady Sherbourne.”

  His children possessed beautiful manners, she conceded that to Vane. But, as course followed course, she noticed that both the children merely picked at their food. Even Letitia, the livelier twin, became progressively quieter. And this was supposed to be a treat!

  What had the man done to make his children so unhappy in company? Once again, she had to fight to keep from saying something totally out of place. She determined to stop worrying as Lawrence dutifully held her chair when they were finished. Impulsively she reached out to reassure the young man that his manners had been perfection. She touched his hand, then lifted her hand to his forehead.

  “Goodness child, you’re burning up!” she exclaimed.

  “I beg your pardon, my lady,” Vane remarked with what Georgina regarded as maddening calm. “Is there a problem?”

  “I should say so! Your son is burning with fever!”

  Vane crossed the room in two strides and peered down at the boy. “Are you unwell, Lawrence?”

  Responding to his father’s commanding voice, Lawrence again stiffened his spine.

  “I am fine, sir.”

  “No he’s not, Father! And neither am I!” Leticia’s high voice caught on a sob. “We both felt ever so sick, but didn’t want to miss the party.”

  Sabrina rushed to the little girl’s side and knelt to press a hand to her forehead. “Oh, Mama, Leticia also has a fever.”

  “A physician must be called at once, Laurentian!” Tildie ordered.

  With a flick of his head, Vane sent Foweley hurrying from the room to do just that.

  “And these children must be tucked snugly in their beds,” Tildie continued with authority.

  Instinctively Georgina moved to help, but Vane’s cool stare stopped her in her tracks.

  “I will attend to that chore myself,” he stated simply. Reaching out he clasped his son’s hand and calmly retrieved his weepy daughter from Sabrina’s arms. “Amesley will escort you into the parlor. I will join you there as soon as I am able.”

  Feeling rather like a schoolgirl put in her place, Georgina obeyed his dictate as obediently as Foweley had. She sat quietly in the parlor, lost in thought, and sipped the tea hastily brought by a maid. Sabrina and Tildie conversed in low tones in the window embrasure.

  The clink of crystal as Amesley poured himself a brandy finally broke the long silence. “Poor little tykes,” he murmured, staring down into the amber liquid. “I hope it isn’t serious.”

  “I have my suspicions,” Tildie sniffed, turning from the window. “But we must simply await the doctor’s verdict. In the meantime, while I have you to myself, I wish more answers about Vane! What really happened to the boy at Eton that he is taking such great pains to hide from me?”

  Accustomed to Tildie’s straightforward nature, Georgina hid a smile as Amesley’s mouth dropped open in shock. Curious to hear the answer herself, she leaned forward as he paced in front of the fireplace.

  “Madam, you are just as Vane stated!” Amesley shook his head, a charming smile curling his mouth. “I can’t tell you much. By the time I arrived, Vane was well on his way to being the nonesuch he is today.”

  The quality of Tildie’s disappointment vibrated through the room as she stared at the young man fixedly.

  Lord Amesley blinked several times before narrowing his eyes. “There was one rumor I recall,” he offered in consolation. “It was about Vane coming to fisticuffs. But I never had the nerve to ask him. Still don’t,” he declared, pinking slightly.

  His embarrassment brought a smile of understanding from Sabrina.

  “Ah!” Tildie sighed as if his vague recollection had clicked everything neatly into place in her mind.

  The parlor doors swung open. Immediately Georgina’s eyes flew to Vane’s face. It was as implacable as ever, though his skin did seem tauter across his high cheekbones. After Vane came a short rotund gentleman, who could only be the physician.

  “It’s measles,” the doctor proclaimed without preamble. “I’ve quarantined the house. Sorry for it, but must stop this deuced epidemic! Beg pardon, ladies.” He nodded at Vane’s stoic countenance. “I shall return tomorrow when the spots will be at their peak.”

  Georgina could only wonder at Vane’s calm acceptance. What was behind his cool eyes as he studied them all? Did he truly feel only detachment, even for his children’s plight?

  “It seems our little gathering will be of longer duration,” he drawled, flicking a glance to Amesley. “I apologize for any inconvenience it may cause you.”

  “Rubbish, Vane!” Amesley declared, clasping his friend’s rigid shoulder. “I’ve needed a repairing lease. Couldn’t have chosen better companions than my godchildren and these delightful ladies.”

  “Nicely spoken, Lord Amesley,” Tildie beamed at him in approval. “In truth, the circumstances could hardly be better. Georgina and I have just seen Sabrina through just such a bout. I’m sure between all of us, your dear children couldn’t be in more capable hands!”

  “Gracious as ever, Tildie.” He walked over to the sideboard and poured himself a generous glass, then set it down, apparently forgotten, and crossed to the fireplace.

  To Georgina’s searching eyes, he did appear to relax slightly.

  “For now, I believe we should retire,” his naturally deep voice resonated with confidence. “I’ve sent messages to your servants. As soon as your belongings arrive, they will be brought to your rooms. Foweley will show you upstairs to the rooms I’ve selected.”

  Ever vigilant, Foweley appeared to usher them out.

  “Lady Sherbourne, may I speak to you alone for a moment?” His words stopped her on the threshold.

  Quickly she stole a glance at Tildie, whose pleased countenance disquieted her. She twirled abruptly to walk back to where Vane had taken a wide, almost defiant, stance before the black marble fireplace.

  She thrust u
p her chin and glared challengingly back at him. “Yes, my lord?”

  There was a flicker of curiosity in his eyes. That fact pleased her for some odd reason.

  “I wished to thank you, but it seems I can’t even do that without irritating both of us,” he drawled. “Why do you suppose we can’t rub along, Lady Georgina?”

  The sound of her name on his lips spun tension between them, making her feel uncomfortably vulnerable.

  “I’m not sure,” she answered slowly, “but that’s of no importance now.” The words tumbled over each other with her nervousness. “The important thing now is the children. Tonight could be difficult, I know from experience. I’ll sit up with them if you’ll allow me.”

  He shook his head, his gaze locked on her face. “No, I will perform that duty myself. I want to be near my children if they need me.”

  Not detachment after all. Perhaps there might be a basis for friendship in their odd relationship, after all. Eager to settle her thoughts in private, she nodded once and turned abruptly away.

  Foweley was waiting to lead her up the staircase and down a carpeted hallway.

  “This is your room, my lady. Your daughter is next to you, and Her Grace is across the hall.”

  She paused just inside the pretty cream and white bedroom, deciding whether to go to Sabrina or Tildie first. Curiosity won out. Why had Tildie worn such a self-satisfied smile when Vane called Georgina back to him?

  She tapped lightly at Tildie’s door, then entered without waiting. Tildie was buried in the deep chair that faced the blazing fire. She did not glance around, even when Georgina clicked the door shut.

  As Georgina drew closer, she heard Tildie’s pleased humming and caught that same look of pleasure curling her mouth:

  “Tildie!”

  She glanced up dreamily. “Ah, child, how was your comfortable coze with Vane! Pleasant I trust.”

  Georgina gasped, her hands flying to her throat in shock. It finally all clicked into place in her own mind! Reaction caused her to collapse on the low stool near the fire. “You are matchmaking! But not for Sabrina—for me!”

  Chapter 4

  Tildie eyed Georgina with mild reproach. “I am doing nothing. You and Laurentian are handling it quite well yourselves.”

  Caught in the grip of disbelief, she stared into her stepmama’s calm face, for once speechless.

  “Darling Tildie, we don’t even like one another,” she finally replied.

  “Ah, but is that really true?” Tildie’s lips twitched into a conspiratorial smile. “Or are you instead fighting your attraction to one another?”

  Stunned by Tildie’s unabashed, and hitherto unknown romantic nature, Georgina could only shake her head in disbelief. “I am thirty-five years old—long past the age for such romantic notions. I am too old to fall in love,” she declared firmly.

  “What utter nonsense!” Tildie’s eyes snapped in the firelight. “If that were true, I would never have married your father at the advanced age of fifty and six! Do you know why I did so?”

  Was it the chaotic emotions Vane inspired, or the fact she was nearly overcome with glimpsing this side of her beloved Tildie, whom she thought she knew as well as herself, that closed her throat with tears?

  “I shall tell you,” Tildie exclaimed, leaning forward in the chair. “It was springtime four years ago. We were having our usual game of whist in the parlor, and naturally I was beating your father all to flinders. And as usual he was grumbling.” In the dim light Tildie’s face softened with remembrance. “Then he looked at me and said, ‘Matilda, you are the best cardplayer I’ve ever met, I don’t want to lose you. My daughter and Sabrina don’t need you as a companion as much as I need you for a wife.”

  Her rosebud mouth deepened at the corners. “I looked at him glaring at me so fiercely from beneath his shaggy gray brows, while he absently rubbed at the gouty foot propped before him, and I suddenly realized I loved that man. I had loved Laurentian, and I loved you and Sabrina as I think a mother does her children. But what I felt for your father was quite different. So I accepted his offer. And that is the only reason I did so.”

  Tildie slid back into the depths of the chair, her face concealed in shadow. “So there you have it! I’m sorry if I shocked you, Georgina. But strong emotion is not bounded by years, and so you should know!”

  The tears that had closed her throat now spilled from her eyes. Licking them from her lips, Georgina knelt down to lay her cheek against the soft wool of Tildie’s black skirt.

  “I’m so glad it was a love-match,” she whispered. Against her closed eyelids danced images of her father in his last years, and in each remembered scene he was smiling. “You made him very happy.”

  Tildie touched her chin with the curve of her fingers, and Georgina raised her tear-streaked face.

  “Darling Tildie, I know you love me. I know you wish for my happiness. But I have been a widow for nearly fourteen years.” She laughed lightly and caught Tildie’s hand. “I may not be too old to fall in love. But I am sorely out of practice.”

  “I am positive you have the means to regain the ability.” The firm voice was the remembered one from the schoolroom.

  “Even with a relentlessly stern man who never smiles?” she asked with equal seriousness.

  “Answer me this, Georgina. Have you ever wondered what Vane’s mouth would look like if curled in laughter?”

  It was as if Tildie was privy to her thoughts. Stunned, she didn’t answer.

  “And would you not like to be the one to bring about such a change,” she continued evenly.

  At these final words, Georgina rose slowly to her feet. In these strange circumstances, trapped in Vane’s home surrounded by his belongings, his children, and ever conscious of his disturbing presence, she was at a loss to answer. In truth, she was afraid to give voice to the vivid, not entirely unpleasant, exhilaration curling through her veins.

  “Darling Tildie, I’m not prepared to answer at this precise moment,” she said sweetly. “Let us see what tomorrow reveals.”

  Vane stood in the hall outside Lawrence and Leticia’s rooms, gazing through the pane window into the darkness. Dawn was coming weakly, fighting its way through the mist of rain and gray fog, which hung like a pall over the city.

  A sound waffling through the open door of Leticia’s room sent him immediately to her side. Even in the dim light cast by the bedside candle he could see the shadow of dozens of spots across her rounded cheeks and forehead.

  “Father,” her whisper was little more than a breath.

  “I am here.” With one finger he touched the tip of her nose. “All is well, Leticia.”

  “Are Lady Sabrina and her mother still here?” she asked slowly. Her eyes were heavy with sleep and kept drifting closed.

  “Yes, they are here.” Wanting to comfort her, he continued to rub the tip of his finger over her tiny nose. “They shall be here until you and Lawrence are well.”

  “Good,” she sighed, and allowed her lids to shut. “Lady Sabrina is so pretty … and her mama … has smiling eyes…”

  He stayed until the even rise and fall of her small chest beneath the cover told him she slept peacefully. Then he stooped and tucked the cover more tightly around her. He crossed the hall to follow the same ritual with his sleeping son.

  He stood again by the hallway window, but this time he didn’t lift his eyes to the outside world. Instead, he fought a battle within, against his helplessness in the face of his children’s suffering. But he managed to quell the rage with his iron will, just as he had learned to conquer all strong emotion so long ago.

  A few hours later the doctor found him still standing in the hallway keeping watch over his children. After examining each child, he cautioned:

  “The fever is down. It should vanish once all the spots have ap
peared. But you must keep them quiet for as long as possible.” He gave Vane a sympathetic smile. “It will be difficult to keep active youngsters abed once they are more the thing.”

  Vane raised his brows in disdain. “I shall see to it.”

  “Of course, my lord!” the doctor blustered. “In any case, I will return at the end of the week, unless you need me before.”

  Vane, now reassured about his children’s safety, bethought himself of his guests. He found them all gathered in the breakfast room.

  “You look dreadful, Laurentian! You should seek your bed at once!” Tildie declared frankly. “But first, tell us what says the doctor.”

  “The fever should break by tonight. But you need not be concerned. I have the situation in hand.”

  He was strangely touched by the worried faces turned toward him; yet, he had been self-sufficient for so long, it was impossible to let the barriers down. His gaze paused at Georgina’s slightly stern countenance. Now her eyes were not smiling—as Leticia had observed—they were wide with a deep crease of concern between them. The expression was appropriate, but he marveled that he missed the sassy wit and bold self-confidence that filled the atmosphere around her with life.

  “Is there anything you will allow us to do to help?” Her voice was polite, but her choice of words did not escape him.

  “Yes, Vane! Can’t let Lawrence and Leticia languish in the sickroom without a bit of fun.” Amesley flicked him a smile. “Lady Sabrina and I are all set for that game of jackstraws when they are well enough.”

  Lady Sabrina flushed, but instead of staring down at her toes, managed to give Amesley a smile that indeed made her pretty. Extremely pretty, Vane noted, although she lacked her mother’s animation.