Earl to the Rescue

by Jane Ashford

  “Good heavens,” Lady Merryn exclaimed. She suddenly seemed to notice Gwendeline’s evening dress. “Is it dinnertime already? And we are to go out this evening!” She got up hurriedly, knocking a book off the desk. “I must dress immediately. Ring for Mary, would you, my dear.”

  Gwendeline went to the bell. “We needn’t go out if you’d rather write,” she said. “I don’t want to keep you from it.”

  “Nonsense, my dear, I’ll be gathering material the whole evening. A much more intriguing way of doing research. I’ll be down instantly.” She hurried off to her bedroom.

  Gwendeline returned to the drawing room and informed Allison that dinner should be put back half an hour. He took the news well, but Gwendeline heard him tell the footman as he crossed the hall that the cook “would be fair enraged.”

  They were a little late for the musical evening. The entertainment had started when they arrived, and they were forced to find seats near the back of the room, behind most of the other guests. Gwendeline could see little besides the backs of the people in front of her, so she gave herself up to listening until the interval.

  When refreshment was offered, Gwendeline had a chance to survey the crowd. Looking from group to group as they stood chatting, she saw many acquaintances. Lillian was present, talking to her hostess near the piano. And Gwendeline saw Lord Wanley, Mr. Horton, and Mr. Woodley, among others. But she couldn’t find Lord Merryn, look as she would. She’d hoped to see him there and was disappointed at his absence.

  “If only I could believe you were searching this crush for me,” said a voice close to her ear. Gwendeline jumped, startled. “Pardon me,” said Mr. Blane. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

  “Not at all,” said Gwendeline coldly.

  “I need not ask how you are this evening,” Blane went on smoothly. “Your looks tell me that you are well.”

  “Thank you,” she replied. “I was just going to speak to Lillian Everly. If you’ll excuse me.” And she moved to cross the room.

  Blane stopped her with a hand on her arm. “I almost feel that you’re trying to avoid me, Miss Gregory. I’m hurt.”

  Gwendeline shook off his hand. “I have something important to say to Miss Everly. That is all, sir.”

  Mr. Blane looked at her speculatively. His eyes held both amusement and a hardness Gwendeline found unsettling. “Then you must allow me to escort you,” he said, offering his arm.

  Gwendeline took it, seeing no alternative. Together, they crossed the room to Lillian.

  Mr. Blane bowed, “I’ll leave you then to make your important communication to Miss Everly,” he said to Gwendeline. “I hope we will have an opportunity to talk later.” With a malicious glance, he turned and walked away.

  Gwendeline turned to find Lillian looking at her. “Shall we take a turn about the room,” she said, seeing Gwendeline’s confusion. “If you will excuse us?” This was addressed to their hostess and the two young men she’d been talking to. Lillian linked arms with Gwendeline and guided her toward the more open space by a bow window. “Did you wish to tell me something?” she asked.

  “No, no,” said Gwendeline miserably. “I merely wished to get away from Mr. Blane. It was very unkind of him to repeat my excuse before everyone.”

  Lillian’s perplexity disappeared, but she looked concerned still. “Was he rude to you?”

  “Not at all, he is always excessively polite. But I don’t like him, and I wished to avoid private conversation with him.” She felt both foolish and upset.

  “I see,” said Lillian. “It’s a difficult situation. He’s known to have been such a, er, friend of your parents.”

  “Yes, indeed,” said Gwendeline bitterly. “I have heard what a good friend he was.” She stopped in confusion lest Lillian ask her to explain.

  “Have you?” responded the other girl, looking at her closely. She seemed reassured by what she saw. “That’s good.”

  Gwendeline looked back at her, and Lillian nodded. “I’ve heard a few things myself,” she added. “My mother has a very liberal view about what I should be told. She usually answers the questions I put to her. It’s an extraordinary help.”

  “I should think it would be indeed,” said Gwendeline feelingly. “I wish I had such a mother.”

  “She’s wonderful,” agreed Lillian. “And I think you’re right to try to avoid Mr. Blane. I’ll help you if I can.”

  “Thank you,” Gwendeline said. “He’s very persistent.”

  The hostess began to reorganize her guests for another session of music, and the conversation was interrupted. The two girls sat together; however, just as the musicians struck up, they were joined by Mr. Horton and Lord Wanley with much embarrassing clattering of gilt chairs and dislodgement of their neighbors. Gwendeline merely looked at the floor, but Lillian said, “Shh,” as the gentlemen dropped into their chairs and seemed about to speak. The music drowned their objections.

  Gwendeline was able to avoid Mr. Blane for the rest of the evening, staying close to the group of young people. Lord Merryn never appeared, and she found herself tiring early. Finally, she pulled Lady Merryn away from a spirited investigation of the latest on dits—splendid material for her book she protested—and they left the party. Gwendeline felt only relief to be home again.

  Seven

  The next morning, Gwendeline sought out Lady Merryn as soon as she came downstairs, determined to put several questions to her. She waited until Allison had served the countess’s breakfast, then she leaned across the table toward her and said commandingly, “Lady Merryn.”

  The older woman looked up from the paper she was scribbling on, surprised. “Yes, dear?”

  “I want to have a serious talk with you. It’s important.”

  “Really?” She put aside her papers. “You have my full attention then, Gwendeline.” She looked at her expectantly.

  Gwendeline took a deep breath. When it came to the point, she was uncertain exactly where to begin. “Well,” she said, “since I came to London, I’ve heard a great deal of talk.” She paused.

  The countess nodded wisely. “One does in town, dear. Most of it utter nonsense, of course. Has someone said something rude to you?”

  “No, not rude, but I have heard disturbing things about my parents and—and others.” Gwendeline found she could not bring herself to mention the earl outright.

  Lady Merryn nodded again. “I daresay. I’m afraid I must tell you, Gwendeline, that your parents have been the subject of a good deal of gossip. They were a heedless couple, care-for-nobodies as the young men say, and they sometimes set people’s backs up with their behavior.”

  It was Gwendeline’s turn to nod. “I’ve heard that. But frankly, I’m less concerned about my parents’ reputation than about my own situation. It may sound callous to you, but they never cared about me, so I don’t particularly care what people may say about them.”

  “Understandable,” agreed Lady Merryn. “Though unfortunately gossip sometimes carries over. Has something specific happened to upset you, Gwendeline?”

  “No, but it would be a great help to me if I understood more. The thing that concerns me most is the income I’ve been given. I’ve never been comfortable spending it, and now I feel it even more. I must learn who my benefactors are, Lady Merryn. Will you help me?”

  The countess appeared confused. “Well, but Gwendeline, surely you should discuss this with Alex?”

  “I’ve tried, but he fobbed me off.” She looked steadily at Lady Merryn, making it clear that she wouldn’t be evaded again.

  The countess dithered. “Yes, but my dear, I really have no notion… Alex has not taken me into his confidence… really, I can’t…” She trailed off.

  “I understand that you don’t know precisely who joined to help me,” replied Gwendeline. “But you must have some idea of who my father’s friends were. Who would have bee
n likely to aid me?”

  The older woman looked hunted. “Your father’s friends! Oh, my dear. An extremely ramshackle set.”

  Gwendeline gazed at her. “The only friend of my father that I have so far met is Mr. Blane. He knows nothing of any income for me. I ask you, Lady Merryn, what am I to think? I begin to fear that there are no benefactors except Lord Merryn, and you must see that I couldn’t accept support from an unmarried man in no way related to me. It would be quite improper.”

  Lady Merryn seemed much struck by this point. “Oh, quite,” she said quickly. “Only think of the scandal it would raise! But Gwendeline, you can’t think that Alex would put you in the embarrassing position of living on his bounty.” She looked very worried, then her face brightened. “Besides, it’s not just Alex. I’m helping you too, you know, so all is well.”

  Gwendeline was momentarily silenced by this telling point. It was true that a scandal was unlikely while she lived under the protection of the earl’s mother, even if it turned out that he was supporting her. But even granting that, she didn’t wish to be beholden to Lord Merryn. She struggled for a moment to think why. It was a humiliating position, she decided, and not one she wished to occupy where he was involved. She looked up at the countess again. “What you say is true,” she admitted, “but I was told that a group of people helped me, and I insist upon thanking them. If the earl won’t take me to them, I must find them myself. Please tell me who my father’s particular friends were.” And she directed an uncompromising stare at the older woman.

  “Oh dear,” said Lady Merryn again. “I don’t know what I should do. I can’t think.” She seemed to consider a number of possibilities, then her expression lightened. “There was Sir Humphrey Owsley. He was forever in your parents’ house, Gwendeline. He is not likely to… That is, you might speak to him, if you meet him.”

  “Will you not introduce me, ma’am?”

  “I? Oh, I am scarcely acquainted with him myself. I’m not certain I could…”

  “Very well,” answered Gwendeline impatiently. “And who else?”

  Lady Merryn shook her head regretfully. “Dear me, I can’t think. You know, I never was well acquainted with your mother’s set, my dear. I can’t for the life of me think of any others.”

  Gwendeline sighed and returned the countess’s innocent gaze rather angrily, but try as she would, she could get no more names from her. She had to content herself with the one. She resolved not to wait for a chance meeting but to seek out Sir Humphrey herself, no matter what that might involve. She started to ask Lady Merryn for his address, then hesitated. The countess would certainly try to stop her if she knew what she planned. Excusing herself, Gwendeline left the breakfast room, leaving a worried and rather relieved Lady Merryn staring anxiously after her.

  Gwendeline found out the address by asking Allison to get it for her, and since she was sure that Lady Merryn would tell her son of their conversation at the first opportunity, she set out to call on Sir Humphrey the very next morning. By nine she was smartly attired in a dove gray walking dress, fastened at the sleeve and up to the demure neckline with tiny amber buttons. As Ellen did her hair and got out the dainty high-crowned bonnet which completed this dashing toilette, Gwendeline said, “I’ll need you to accompany me this morning, Ellen.”

  “Yes, miss,” responded the maid, “but I thought you told Mr. Reeves you wouldn’t be by the house today.”

  “No, I am not going to the house. We’re going to make a call.”

  Ellen looked gratified. “Well, that’s fine, Miss Gwendeline. I declare we haven’t gone calling together above once or twice since we came to London. Is her ladyship busy?”

  “She will not have left her bedchamber as yet. Come, are you ready?”

  “Just give me one minute to fetch my hat, miss.” And Ellen fairly ran out of the room and up the stairs.

  Gwendeline went down to the front hall to wait. She stood before the door pulling on her gloves when she heard a sound that made her freeze in dismay. Lady Merryn’s voice was issuing from the library just opposite. On this morning of all mornings she had chosen to break with her custom and come downstairs early. Gwendeline looked up the stairs anxiously, but there was no sign of Ellen. She shrank back beside the hall table; there was no place to conceal herself, and Lady Merryn seemed to be approaching. The girl sighed in annoyance. Now she would be forced to explain where she was going. Or to lie, she thought guiltily. She had so hoped to leave the house unobserved.

  Just as Ellen appeared and began to descend the stairs, when Gwendeline dared hope she could get away after all, the door to the library opened and Lady Merryn emerged. She saw Gwendeline immediately, as indeed she could not help but do, and wished her a cheerful good morning. She observed her walking dress with some surprise. “Are you going out so early, Gwendeline?” she asked. “Why, it can’t be much past nine. Have you breakfasted? Where are you going?”

  Gwendeline smiled nervously and twisted her remaining glove between her fingers. “Only walking, ma’am,” she replied. “It’s such a fine day, I thought I would get some air.”

  “Is it?” answered Lady Merryn vaguely. “I haven’t had a moment to observe. Only fancy, Gwendeline, Mary threw out ten pages of my manuscript. Can you credit it? I searched for quite two hours last night, but they’re gone. And the worst of it is, I can’t remember precisely what they contained. I know it was very important, vital to the plot in fact, but I can’t quite recall… And ten pages! It will take me all morning to make it up. It is all very well to say that I left them crumpled on the floor; I daresay I may have, though I distinctly remember putting the pages in my drawer as I went up to bed the night before. However, when I got them out last night, it was the laundry list, you know, so I suppose… But that’s beside the point. I have told all the servants never to disturb the papers around my desk. You would think Mary would have better sense than to throw them out, wouldn’t you?”

  “Yes ma’am,” replied Gwendeline, as Lady Merryn interrupted her flow of talk to look at her. The countess seemed to have forgotten their conversation of the previous day.

  “Of course,” she continued. “And so I rose very early today, almost at the crack of dawn, my dear, to inquire. I thought to catch the servants before the dustbin was emptied. But I was too late. They take it away by six, Gwendeline! Can you imagine? What dreadful lives the dustmen must live.” Lady Merryn shook her head. “And so, now I must try to recall the story and rewrite it all.” She sighed heavily as she set her foot on the first stair. “It is excessively annoying.”

  “I am sorry,” said Gwendeline. “I hope it’s not too difficult.”

  “Yes, so do I, my dear,” replied the countess doubtfully. She seemed to recall herself. “So you’re going walking? What odd habits you have, to be sure. Are you certain you wish to go out so very early? No one will be abroad at this hour. And have you eaten?”

  “Yes ma’am. I had tea and toast with a boiled egg over an hour ago.”

  Lady Merryn seemed to shudder. “How you can eat a meal so early I do not understand. I can face no more than a cup of chocolate. Well, but your maid is to accompany you?” She looked around and saw Ellen. “Oh yes. Don’t tire yourself out, my dear.” And with this admonition, she continued up the stairs.

  Gwendeline breathed a sigh of relief and turned to go out. She’d been saved explanations after all. Silently, she thanked Mary for her misguided diligence.

  It was indeed a lovely spring morning. The air was a little sharp, but the sun shone brightly, and the breeze carried a hint of growing things even here in the city. Gwendeline walked briskly along the pavement to the busier thoroughfare at the end of the row. “We must get a hack,” she said to Ellen. “It is a little distance.”

  “Yes, miss.” Ellen was frowning. “We do be going for a walk then?”

  Gwendeline flushed slightly. “Well, yes, after we make our call
, we’ll walk a bit.” She saw a hack passing by and signaled the jarvey, who pulled up beside them. “Come along.”

  Ellen joined her in the carriage without demur, but as it started up, she asked, “Who are you visiting, Miss Gwendeline? Not Miss Lillian, I guess.”

  “No. Someone else,” replied the girl shortly. She had no wish to argue with her maid, as she surely would be forced to do if Ellen knew they were bound for a gentleman’s residence.

  But the other girl was not to be fobbed off so easily. She observed her young mistress narrowly for a time, then said, “You’re up to some mischief, I’ll be bound, Miss Gwendeline. One as knows you well can tell it, though her ladyship had no notion.”

  “I don’t know what you mean,” responded Gwendeline, trying to sound haughty and aloof.

  Ellen sniffed. “Don’t you now? Well, you needn’t tell me anything about it, but I know what I know.” And Ellen folded her arms and subsided into silence.

  Gwendeline was thinking nervously of what she would say when she arrived at Sir Humphrey’s house. She knew that it wasn’t proper to call at a gentleman’s home, particularly when she hadn’t even been introduced to the man, but in her impatience and eagerness to solve the mystery of her rescue she didn’t care. When she’d stated her business, surely Sir Humphrey would see the necessity of her flouting of convention. But even as she comforted herself with this assurance, she doubted it.

  Too soon, the hack pulled up before Sir Humphrey’s impressive town house. The girls climbed down, and Gwendeline paid off the driver. She’d never handled such details herself, and she felt a bit clumsy doing so. The fare the man requested seemed absurdly high to her, but she didn’t dare dispute it. She’d heard cabdrivers arguing with one another or with their patrons in the street, and she had a strong sense of their pugnaciousness.

  Finally, all was concluded, and they stood on the top step before the massive oaken door. Resolutely, Gwendeline reached up and plied the brass knocker. It wouldn’t do to hang back now.