by Jane Ashford
“Indeed.” He raised his eyebrows. “In that case, we should take a turn about the room. I go out of town tomorrow and won’t return for several days. I have some business to see to in the country.”
“I see,” replied Gwendeline. “Could we talk now?” She looked about the room uncertainly.
“This appears to be important.”
“I think it is.” Gwendeline half rose from her seat. But at that moment two things occurred. The music started up again in the ballroom, causing a beginning exodus of diners, and Adele once more claimed the earl’s attention. Gwendeline had already promised the first dance after supper, and as Lord Merryn tried to escape Adele, the young man came to claim her so that they might join a set of his friends. Everything seemed to conspire against any private talk with the earl.
As she made her way back to the ballroom, Gwendeline noticed that Adele and the duke, and Lillian and the major, were following to join the dancers. This was something, at least. She went through the movements of the quadrille impatiently, eager to get away to talk to Lord Merryn.
But for the rest of the evening, she could find no opportunity to do so. Either she was occupied, dancing or chatting, or he was engaged, and when he attempted to ask her to dance, she had already promised the set to someone else. Gwendeline felt very frustrated. Only as she and Miss Brown were leaving was she able to speak to him alone for a moment. He came up to say good night when Adele was occupied in bidding the duke farewell. “I’m sorry we’ve had no chance to talk,” he told Gwendeline. “It’s always difficult in such surroundings. Can this matter wait a little while?”
Gwendeline nodded. “I suppose so. You’re going out of town tomorrow?”
“Very early.”
“You will return for my party?” she exclaimed.
He smiled. “That would bring me back if nothing else did,” he replied. “Though I may not return until that very day.” At this point Adele called to him that their carriage was ready, and a look of annoyance crossed his face. “I must go. But I will call as soon as I’m able.” He bowed and walked away.
Gwendeline went home dissatisfied but resigned. She comforted herself by imagining how happy Lillian and Major St. Audley would be when her plan succeeded. She was tired and eager to get to bed, but as she started up the stairs, Reeves once again handed her a note that had been delivered by hand. Gwendeline took it gingerly, staring at it for some moments before she continued up to her chamber. She laid the envelope on her dressing table, and while she made ready for bed, she glanced at it repeatedly. She began to feel as though it was a snake or some other venomous creature lying there waiting to strike. Finally, she picked it up. “I am not afraid to open it,” she said fiercely to her image in the mirror. “It’s probably nothing.” She ripped open the envelope and pulled out the contents. Then, she fell back in her chair. It was exactly like the last—the uneven black printing and the threatening message. Gwendeline dropped it on her dressing table.
This time she would keep the note and show it to Miss Brown, she decided. She should have done so in the first place. Having decided this, she felt better, and after a time, was able to sleep.
In the morning, Gwendeline sought out Miss Brown as soon as she returned from her early errands, showed her the note, and explained its history, as well as her connection of it with the one sent to Adele Greene. When she’d finished, Miss Brown said nothing for a while, but she looked very serious as she stared at the note. Finally, she tapped it with her finger and said, “I believe Lord Merryn should be told of this immediately. Two such letters, and the one sent to Adele, are not to be taken lightly. We must ask for help in this matter. It calls for investigation. Lord Merryn will agree with me, I’m sure. We should send a note round to his house immediately.”
“He has gone out of town,” Gwendeline replied. “He won’t be back for several days. He mentioned it last night at Almack’s.”
Miss Brown frowned. “Well, I suppose it will do no harm to wait that long.” She looked steadily at Gwendeline. “I doubt there is any real threat to you. Persons who write such letters generally do nothing further, I’ve heard. But it will be wise to be careful, and we shall ask Lord Merryn to look into it as soon as possible.” She folded up the note. “I shall keep this,” she finished.
“But who can be sending these dreadful things, Brown?”
“Most likely an unpleasant individual has lighted on your name and is playing a wicked prank.”
“But what of Adele’s letter? The writer of that knew something of me and my circumstances.”
Miss Brown frowned. “I’m not convinced all the letters came from one person,” she answered. “But as I said, we would do well to be careful.”
Reeves entered the breakfast room. “Lady Merryn has called,” he announced.
Gwendeline and Miss Brown looked up in surprise. It was not yet nine, well before the countess’s usual hour of rising. Lady Merryn followed Reeves into the room, and she spoke breathlessly before they could greet her. “I had to come immediately,” she said. “I know it’s terribly early, but I was sure you would be up and I have just had such news! Alex has been attacked by highwaymen!”
“What!” exclaimed both of her listeners.
Lady Merryn appeared very satisfied with the reaction she’d provoked. She sat down at the breakfast table and helped herself to the remains of the tea in the pot. “I rushed out so early, I had no time for breakfast,” she said, reaching for a muffin.
“But what’s happened?” cried Gwendeline. “Is Lord Merryn hurt?”
The countess looked a little surprised at the intensity of this outburst, then turned contrite. “No, no, Alex is perfectly all right. I’m sorry for being so dramatic in my announcement. I’ve upset you.”
“You’ve certainly made us eager to hear your story, at any rate,” replied Miss Brown, mildly censorious.
“Of course.” Lady Merryn abandoned her breakfast and sat back. “Well, Alex started out of town at first light this morning. Perhaps you knew he was going to look over some properties in the country?” At their nods, she continued. “He’d hardly passed the city limits when his carriage was set upon by two highwaymen, with pistols.” Lady Merryn’s eyes glowed. “Imagine, real highwaymen!”
Gwendeline shuddered. “I’m trying my best not to do so,” she said. “You’re sure he’s not hurt?”
“No, no, he’s all right. His groom, however, received a ball in the shoulder.”
“What?” cried Gwendeline. “Someone was shot?”
“Hitchins,” answered the countess, looking slightly perplexed, “the groom. The two villains demanded money, and Alex gave them his purse. Very cow-hearted of him.”
“Rather, very sensible,” put in Miss Brown.
“Well, in any case, they weren’t satisfied with that, which is excessively odd because Alex had nearly a hundred pounds with him. They demanded that everyone descend from the carriage. Alex had his valet with him as well, you know.” She stopped and took a sip of tea. Gwendeline, wild with impatience, felt like shaking her, but she knew it would do no good. Finally, Lady Merryn went on. “Well, at that request Hitchins became angry. He’s been with Alex since he was a child, you know, and he is quite attached to him. He tried to draw his pistol. Alex always insists on carrying guns when traveling. It makes me very uneasy. One of the highwaymen saw his movement and shot him through the arm. Only a flesh wound, whether by intent or from poor shooting, I do not know.” Lady Merryn waved her hand airily. “The robbers’ attention being diverted by this incident, Alex and his valet managed to reach their weapons. The valet actually fired, I believe, but he missed his aim. He is, in any case, a shockingly poor shot.” She put her chin in her hand. “A pity. I should have liked to interview a real highwayman.”
“What happened then?” asked Gwendeline anxiously.
“Oh.” Lady Merryn started. “The ruffia
ns were scared off. They fled, and Alex brought Hitchins to me because of his wound. He is properly poulticed and bandaged now. The foolish man wished to continue on, but he’s much too weak.”
“You mean Lord Merryn resumed his journey?” asked Gwendeline.
“Oh, yes,” answered the countess. “He is gone again.”
“Why? How could he start out again after being attacked in that way?”
Lady Merryn looked surprised. “He had business waiting. You wouldn’t expect him to remain cowering in London?”
“Yes, I would,” insisted Gwendeline. “At least until those men are caught. How could he go back out on the road when they’re lurking there?”
“Oh, I think highwaymen rarely attack one twice,” replied the countess. “Why should they indeed, once they have taken your money?”
Gwendeline was speechless with frustration at Lady Merryn’s careless attitude.
“I’m sure he’ll be all right,” continued the latter soothingly. “Alex is well able to take care of himself. Has been since he was a boy.”
“If he thought it right to go on, I am sure he had good reason,” said Miss Brown.
Unable to contain herself any longer, Gwendeline jumped up and ran from the room.
“Well.” Lady Merryn seemed surprised. “Everything is all right now, after all.”
Miss Brown only nodded.
The countess rose. “I must go. I wanted to tell you the news and reassure you. I feared you might hear gossip later in the day. These sorts of things get so distorted when they circulate about town, you know.”
“That was very kind of you,” answered Miss Brown. “I know Gwendeline appreciates it also. I will see you out.”
When she had said goodbye to Lady Merryn, Miss Brown went in search of Gwendeline. She found her in the drawing room, sitting in one of the armchairs staring at the wall. The girl looked up when she entered. “I’m sorry, Brown. I simply couldn’t endure it any longer. How could she be so calm? To call such a horrible thing romantic!”
“She knew her son was safe and the groom taken care of,” replied Miss Brown mildly. “For her, the whole incident was past, while for you, it was fresh and new.”
“And just after we were talking of those horrid letters. It was too much.” A thought struck her suddenly. “You do not think the two could be connected?”
“The letters and the highwaymen?”
Gwendeline nodded.
“What possible connection could there be?” asked Miss Brown.
“I…I don’t know. They are both dreadful…” Gwendeline trailed off uncertainly.
“They are,” Miss Brown agreed. “And that is all they have in common.”
“You’re right.” Gwendeline sighed. “But I find life a bit too eventful these days. At Brooklands a broken plate was the greatest tragedy.”
“In that, I must agree,” replied Miss Brown. “Let us hope all of the excitement is over now.”
Nineteen
For some days thereafter, it seemed that Miss Brown’s wish would be granted. No untoward events marred their peace, and the only excitement was preparing for Gwendeline’s approaching tea. As it grew closer to the day, that topic came to occupy the attention of most members of the household. And on the day before it was finally to occur, when Lillian called to see her, Gwendeline was busy with preparations still. “Lillian!” cried Gwendeline when the other girl followed Reeves into the drawing room that morning. “I’m so glad to see you. I can hardly keep still. And Alphonse will not listen to me about the muffins.”
“Muffins?”
“He says the Englishman’s excuse for a muffin is inedible and will sit in the stomachs of my guests like a cannonball. He refuses even to attempt to make any muffins,” finished Gwendeline with a wail.
Lillian burst out laughing. Gwendeline looked at her with indignation at first, then gradually began to smile. Finally she, too, laughed. “Well, it is annoying,” she said when their laughter had subsided. “I so wish my tea to be perfect, and some little detail is always going wrong. First, a hole is found in the best tablecloth, then the silver polish is mysteriously missing just when Reeves is preparing to do the silver, and now there will be no muffins. I’ll never give another party as long as I live.”
“I’m sure it will be splendid,” answered Lillian. “You sound just as my mother always does before entertaining. But all the problems will resolve themselves before tomorrow; they always do.”
“You needn’t worry. You’re only a guest,” Gwendeline retorted. “No one will blame you if there are no muffins.” But she couldn’t help smiling at her own remark.
“Why not simply buy some muffins?” suggested Lillian, “and smuggle them in to tea without Alphonse’s knowledge?”
Gwendeline brightened. “What a wonderful idea!”
“But, of course, if they aren’t eaten, you’ll be forced to finish them before the trays are taken back to the kitchen.” Her eyes twinkled. Gwendeline’s fondness for muffins was a recurring joke between them.
“I shall simply have to endure the hardship. One must make sacrifices for the sake of one’s guests. But you are resourceful! You’ve solved my final problem.”
“Then you can cease pacing and sit down,” Lillian said. “You’ve been prowling about the room since I arrived.”
Gwendeline did so, looking a little sheepish. “I know you think me a goose, but I’ve never given any sort of party before.”
“It will go perfectly, I know. Did your preparations keep you from Almack’s last night?”
“Yes,” answered Gwendeline. “The hole in the cloth. Was the evening very gay?”
“Oh, it was much as usual. Adele Greene made a nuisance of herself. I begin to wish I weren’t acquainted with her at all.”
“What now?”
“She attached herself to me almost from the beginning of the evening. When I was talking with the duke soon after I arrived, she joined us and wouldn’t take herself off. The duke was finally forced to ask her to dance.”
“Does he dislike her also?”
“He has not said so,” Lillian replied. “He’s much too polite. But he is a sensible man; he must be repelled by her simpering airs.”
“As is Lord Merryn?” asked Gwendeline skeptically.
“Oh.” Lillian waved a hand. “That is a mystery which will be cleared up very soon, I’m sure.”
Her tone made Gwendeline suspicious. “Have you hatched some scheme?”
Lillian’s eyes were wide and innocent. “I?” she replied. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”
“What have you done? Oh, Lillian, please tell me.”
Lillian continued to declare that she’d done nothing, though her tone told Gwendeline otherwise. But she would reveal no details of her plan and finally rose to leave when Gwendeline’s questions grew too insistent.
“You may believe what you choose,” she told Gwendeline as she went out, “but you know I shall do what I can to ensure your happiness.” And with these enigmatic words, she was gone.
Gwendeline sat back in her chair with a sigh. She did not at all like the feeling that someone else was trying to order her future. At this thought, she smiled. “It’s only what I deserve, after all,” she said aloud, “for what else have I been doing to Lillian?” With a rueful smile and a shrug, she resolved to try to accept whatever Lillian was planning with good grace. Perhaps then Lillian would do the same for her scheme.
The day passed in a bustle of household chores, and the following morning was even busier, but by four that afternoon Gwendeline was sitting in her drawing room ready to welcome her guests.
She looked around with some satisfaction. The room was filled with fresh flowers, and the table in the corner looked splendid. Miss Brown had mended the cloth exquisitely; it was impossible to tell where the hole had been. T
he silver was shining, and Alphonse’s cakes were a triumph. Miss Brown came in just then with a large plate of muffins and set it beside the silver teapot. She smiled at Gwendeline, who giggled. The stratagems involved in getting that innocent-looking plate to its present place had been tortuous. Miss Brown placed a cloth over it and came over to sit beside Gwendeline, sighing as she leaned back. “Alphonse has no notion,” she said, “but I was obliged to ask Yvette to steal a plate for me from the kitchen. I hope he won’t miss it. And I hope the muffins will stay warm.”
“Well, even if he should, it’s too late. We have the muffins now. He can’t rush in and take them from the table.”
“No?” Miss Brown smiled ruefully. “You underestimate him.”
“Oh, but he would not!”
“No, I don’t think he would quite dare. But if he should learn of our ruse, you may be sure we’ll hear from him.”
Gwendeline tossed her head; her mind turned to more important questions. “Where is everyone? Do you think they have all decided not to come?”
“Do not, I pray you Gwendeline, begin to upset yourself. It is only just four thirty, and no one arrives exactly at the time set. You know that.”
“Yes,” said Gwendeline. “It’s just that I have been preparing and anticipating so long I want it to begin and be over.”
“Go downstairs and see that the tea is being prepared.”
“Oh, I don’t want to.” Gwendeline stood and pirouetted before the drawing room mirror. “Do I look all right, Brown?”
Miss Brown surveyed the slender blond figure with fond approval. Gwendeline was wearing a pale green muslin gown sprigged with tiny flowers in the most-delicate possible shade of apricot. Her ribbons matched these blooms; her eyes sparkled and her bright curls shone. “You look very well.”
As Gwendeline turned from the mirror, Reeves brought in Lillian and Lady Merryn. The countess settled herself on the sofa, insisting that the others sit elsewhere. “I shall keep this seat for Mr. Ames,” she said, patting the place beside her. “I mean to have a good talk with him.”
