by Jane Ashford
Gwendeline smiled a little nervously at this, but Miss Brown calmly took one of the armchairs opposite the sofa and began to chat with Lady Merryn about her recent activities.
Lillian, meanwhile, was looking over the tea table. She lifted the cloth on the muffin plate with exaggerated care. “I see you succeeded in procuring muffins,” she said softly.
Gwendeline turned with a smile. “Yes, but at such a cost! The footman was sworn to secrecy very early this morning and sent in search of them. He had a great deal of trouble finding proper muffins, too. When he finally returned, we were in despair; they were cold, and we couldn’t imagine how we were to warm them, with Alphonse busy in the kitchen. Miss Brown was forced to heat them over her bedroom fire after getting Yvette, the maid, to steal the necessary tools from under Alphonse’s very nose.”
“If he finds out,” Lillian said through her giggles, “you may tell him that I especially requested muffins, forcing you to get them at the last minute.”
“I shall,” replied Gwendeline. “In fact, I’d already planned to do so.”
“I hope he won’t take his revenge by ruining everything I eat in your house in future.” Lillian looked around the room. “Everything looks lovely, Gwendeline. You’ve done a splendid job.”
“Do you think so?” asked Gwendeline. “Truly?”
“I do. And it is well that it does. You’ve devoted all your time for days to this occasion. I missed you sadly in the park yesterday afternoon.”
Gwendeline sighed. “Was the riding good? I was sorry to miss it.”
“Wonderful. And I also saw some interesting sights.” Lillian raised her eyebrows and looked teasingly at the other girl. “You’ve become such a domestic creature, I daresay you aren’t interested in frivolous gossip?”
“Tell me,” cried Gwendeline commandingly.
Lillian laughed. “Very well. I saw Adele Greene out riding with the Duke of Craigbourne in his new curricle.”
“Really? I thought they were hardly acquainted.”
“They are rapidly becoming close friends,” Lillian continued. “Adele is seeing to that. But it is a great relief to me; it solves the mystery of Adele’s sudden cultivation of my company.”
“Why?” Gwendeline frowned.
“She wished to know the duke,” explained Lillian. “So she hung about me knowing that I was acquainted with him and would be bound to speak with him. When he approached me, she seized her chance to entrap him. I’m surprised I didn’t perceive her intent earlier. The only thing that puzzles me now is how the duke can tolerate her company with such apparent equanimity.”
“You sound almost jealous, Lillian.”
Lillian paused and looked meditatively at the wall. “I do, don’t I?” she said after a moment. “It’s most curious. I suppose I am a very selfish creature underneath. I don’t want the duke’s attentions, but when he distinguishes someone else, I’m unreasonably annoyed.” She grimaced. “It’s hard to lose such an eminent suitor.”
Gwendeline looked at her sharply. “But Adele is already engaged. She’s no danger to you. She wouldn’t give up Lord Merryn for the duke. Would she?”
Lillian seemed to recall herself then. “Oh dear, I’ve let my imagination and my wretched tongue go too far again. I forgot your interest in this; I’m sorry. Adele wishes to be seen with titled persons and men of fashion. I hope I haven’t upset you with my silly talk?”
“Of course not,” replied Gwendeline. “I was merely surprised.” But when she turned away to speak to Lady Merryn, Gwendeline realized that she had for a moment entertained a real hope. She was bitterly disappointed.
Her other guests began to arrive soon after this. Major St. Audley came in looking very pleased with himself, bearing a huge bouquet of yellow roses, which he presented with a flourish to Gwendeline. “For your table,” he said grinning, “tea roses.”
Gwendeline laughed and took the offering from him. The bouquet was so large it nearly overwhelmed her. “Thank you very much,” she said from behind the flowers. “They’re lovely.” She peered around at him. “There are so many.”
“I wished to commemorate your first tea party properly,” he answered. “Perhaps I was a bit overenthusiastic. Shall I take them?” But Reeves reappeared at that moment with a vase and rescued Gwendeline from the flowers.
The major walked over to greet the other ladies as Gwendeline and Reeves settled the bouquet in the vase. They had only just finished when the Ameses arrived, and the effect of their entrance was immediate and impressive. Most of the people in the room reacted visibly to Mrs. Ames’s costume, a flowing purple tea gown with a mass of fluttering draperies. Lady Merryn’s attention focused on Mr. Ames. To Gwendeline’s relief, she didn’t pounce on him directly, but she appeared poised to do so, and Gwendeline hurried over to the doorway to welcome them.
“Do come in and sit down,” said Gwendeline. “I should like to introduce my friends.” When Gwendeline turned, Lady Merryn’s gimlet eye was fixed firmly upon her, and she could do nothing but take the Ameses over to the countess. “Lady Merryn,” she said with some trepidation, “I should like you to meet Mr. and Mrs. Ames.” Lillian and the major strolled over from the opposite side of the room where they’d been talking, and Gwendeline made the whole party known to one another at once.
“I’m so pleased to make your acquaintance,” said Lady Merryn as soon as the formalities were completed. “Won’t you sit here?” She patted the sofa beside her and fixed Mr. Ames with a piercing glance. He was forced to take the seat, but he looked reproachfully at Gwendeline as he did so. Gwendeline made a helpless gesture.
Miss Brown and Mrs. Ames seated themselves in chairs nearby, and Lillian and the major returned to their talk. As Gwendeline surveyed her guests, she saw them all suitably occupied. Only Lord Merryn remained absent. Gwendeline wondered whether he’d been detained in the country and would not come after all. Surely he would have sent word? But it was time to call for tea; she was uncertain whether to wait or go on without him.
The problem was solved for her when Lord Merryn entered the room. Gwendeline told Reeves to begin serving as she went over to greet the earl.
“I’m sorry to be late,” Lord Merryn told her as Reeves went out. “I see you’ve waited for me. My delayed start from town kept me away until just a little while ago.”
“I hope your return journey was less eventful than your departure?”
The earl sighed. “Of course Mother has told everyone in London of that stupid mishap. I suppose I’ll have to talk of highwaymen for the next month.”
“I beg your pardon,” answered Gwendeline a bit stiffly. “I didn’t mean to bring up a forbidden subject.”
“No subject is forbidden you, Gwendeline,” the earl answered. “I was simply anticipating a great deal of boredom.”
The servants brought in tea before Gwendeline could reply, and for some time she was busy filling cups and offering them, along with the muffins and cakes. She noticed with amused resignation that Alphonse had sent in one of his whipped cream-covered French constructions with the tea despite her prohibition.
Finally, everyone was served, and Gwendeline relaxed a little and looked around the room. Her guests appeared content. Mr. Ames had escaped from Lady Merryn and was now more happily chatting with Lillian. The countess was involved with Mrs. Ames and Miss Brown in the corner, and the earl and his brother were engaged in what seemed a serious discussion across the room. Everyone was well supplied with refreshment, and no one was left alone. The party was a success.
Gwendeline started across the floor but was stopped by a call from Mr. Ames. Shaking his finger at her, he said, “I’m quite put out with you. You unfeelingly left me talking with that lady novelist for half an hour. It’s only because you also invited this charming young woman that I forgive you.” He gestured toward Lillian.
“Lady Merryn is really
quite charming,” replied Gwendeline. “Was your conversation not pleasant?”
“Hmph,” said Mr. Ames. “Actually, the lady knows a good deal about art. Quite surprised me, you know. And she refrained from talking about her novels.”
“Lady Merryn mentioned that she particularly likes Mr. Ames’s seascapes,” put in Lillian. “She prefers them to his other work, that is.” She smiled at Gwendeline.
“Yes,” said the artist with rising enthusiasm. “Fancy a lady novelist knowing even that much about painting. Her reasons were all wrong, of course, but still she had the taste to prefer my new things to that early trash. I was impressed. I shall forgive you this time. And now, you may run along and I shall continue my talk with your charming friend.”
Gwendeline smiled and dropped him a small curtsy. “Yes, sir,” she said. “I’ll hope to talk with you later, then.” She continued across the room and stopped near Lord Merryn and his brother. They didn’t notice her at first, they were so deep in conversation.
“Have they found no trace?” the major was saying. “That’s outrageous. You might have been killed, Alex.”
“They were indeed rather unusual highwaymen,” replied the earl. “Any footpad, one would think, would have been more than satisfied with £150 from a private coach. Why they didn’t take to their heels immediately is a mystery.” Turning his head, he caught sight of Gwendeline standing behind him. “Ah, Gwendeline. Your tea is excellent.”
“Do you think they were not real highwaymen?” answered Gwendeline, ignoring the commonplace.
Lord Merryn raised his eyebrows. “They were real enough to shoot my groom. I would never question their reality.”
“You know that’s not what I meant,” replied Gwendeline impatiently. “You said they were unusual. Do you believe there was something strange or mysterious about them?”
“I believe,” he replied, “that they were unusually greedy.”
“Oh, you don’t wish to tell me what you think. I can see that. But I wish you might. With all these horrid things happening lately, I’m nearly frantic.”
Both men looked surprised. “What other horrid things have occurred?” asked the earl.
“I think Gwendeline must be referring to these,” Miss Brown said. Seeing Gwendeline in earnest conversation with the St. Audleys, she’d moved to join them. And now she held out the note Gwendeline had received.
The earl took it, frowning, and read the message. His brother looked over his shoulder to see the contents. When he’d finished, Lord Merryn glanced up sharply. “You said ‘these.’ Are there more of them, then?”
“One other,” said Gwendeline. “I burned it before I thought. I was upset.”
“I should think you might be!” put in the major. “Beastly thing.”
Lord Merryn folded the note again and put it in his pocket. “I shall look into this,” he said, with a grim expression on his face.
“Thank you,” said Miss Brown. “We hoped you would do so.”
“You’ll tell us what you discover?” asked Gwendeline.
He nodded. “This was the matter you wished to speak to me about, no doubt. I should have delayed my journey. I’m sorry you’ve worried longer than necessary.”
“Oh, it wasn’t that,” Gwendeline answered automatically. Lord Merryn looked at her. “That is, I did wish to tell you. But there was something else.” She glanced nervously at the major. “Perhaps you can remain after my guests have gone.” The earl bowed, and Gwendeline walked away quickly. She was embarrassed to have made such a bold public request. If it weren’t a case of Lillian’s future, she told herself, she would forget the whole matter.
Gwendeline chatted for a time with each of her guests. Mrs. Ames catalogued for her all the dresses she had purchased in London, and Gwendeline had to admit they made an interesting and unusual list. Lady Merryn told her of some new letters she’d received from readers of her book. The thrill of recognized authorship had not worn thin. She also told her how much she had enjoyed meeting Mr. Ames. The latter lectured Gwendeline on all the paintings they’d missed seeing and her duty to view them as soon as possible. Gwendeline began to feel that the party was growing long; it was less pleasant, it seemed, to be a hostess than a guest. But once the Ameses had taken their leave, the others didn’t linger. She was glad to see the major join Lillian and his mother in Lady Merryn’s carriage. Miss Brown saw them out and did not return to the drawing room, leaving Gwendeline alone with Lord Merryn. He looked at her, and she moved nervously to the sofa. Now that her long-awaited opportunity was here, she found it difficult to begin. “Shall we sit down?” she asked.
The earl obligingly seated himself opposite her and Gwendeline searched for words. “You did wish to speak to me?” asked the earl after a long pause.
“Yes,” said Gwendeline quickly. “I’m having some trouble beginning, however. The matter is rather delicate, and you will say perhaps that I have no right to bring it up.”
“I hope there is nothing we cannot discuss freely,” answered Lord Merryn.
Gwendeline did not feel particularly reassured by this remark. “Well, it is about…about your brother.”
Lord Merryn’s serious expression turned to astonishment. “Andrew?”
“Yes,” Gwendeline hurried on. “We’ve become better acquainted in these past weeks since I returned to town, you know. Indeed, we had a great deal of conversation on the journey back. He told me something of himself.” Gwendeline faltered; the earl’s expression was not encouraging.
“Go on,” he said when she paused. “He told you something you wish to discuss with me?”
“Y-yes.” Gwendeline looked worriedly at the earl. “That is, he knows nothing of our conversation, of course. I’m sure he would be very angry, but I wish to help him and…”
The earl’s face had resumed its usual impassive look. He nodded when she paused again. “Yes?”
“Well.” Gwendeline could see no help for it; she plunged directly on. “Major St. Audley has had some thought of marrying, I believe, but he could not do so because he has no money.” She drew a deep breath and waited anxiously, hoping Lord Merryn would see her point. This request, which had seemed an easy enough thing when she conceived it, was turning out to be uncomfortable and embarrassing.
The earl was looking at her with perplexity and amazement. “What?” he said.
Gwendeline was forced to go on. “And I thought… That is, I felt that if you knew this, you would want to give him an income, so that he could ask…so that he could marry.”
Lord Merryn was frowning. “Andrew has said nothing of this to me.”
“Of course he wouldn’t,” Gwendeline answered eagerly. “He would never ask you for money. He’s far too proud.”
The earl’s expression had become almost grim. “You seem very conversant with his character.”
“As I told you, we’ve become better acquainted lately.” Gwendeline tried to rouse some spark of sympathy in her listener. She was beginning to fear she’d misjudged his generosity. “He’s very kind and jolly. I should so like to see him happy.”
The earl looked down and gazed thoughtfully at the carpet for a moment, then he raised his head, his expression unreadable. “As should I, of course. But my dear Gwendeline, this entire conversation is off the mark. My brother is completely provided for and knows it very well.”
“What?”
“Indeed. With only two of us to think of and ample resources, my father made careful provision for Andrew. My brother has had a very generous allowance throughout his school and military life, and it is provided that when he marries this will be increased by several times. He will have a very good income by any standards. This was all laid out at the reading of the will.” He paused and looked at Gwendeline with something very like reproach in his eyes. “Could you think I would have taken everything and left Andrew to shift for hi
mself?”
“No,” faltered Gwendeline. “I only… I’m sure the major has forgotten or doesn’t understand about this provision of your father’s will. He believes he hasn’t the income to marry.”
The earl looked steadily at her for a few moments, then frowned. “He was only ten when my father died.” He concentrated briefly, but recovered himself almost at once. “I’ll review the will with him,” he said to Gwendeline. “Will that be satisfactory?”
“Oh yes, of course,” answered Gwendeline. “I knew you, who have been so kind to me, could never be ungenerous.”
The earl’s answering smile was slightly askew. “Kinder than you know perhaps.” He rose before Gwendeline could frame a reply to this puzzling remark. “Your problem is solved then?”
“Yes,” said Gwendeline. “I’m so glad.”
Lord Merryn looked down at her. “I too am glad, then,” he replied. He bowed slightly. “And now I must go.”
Gwendeline saw him out, then returned to the drawing room, almost skipping, so buoyant was her mood. She’d secured the happiness of her dearest friend, she was sure. Her only wish now was for someone to tell of this wonderful event. How could she wait for the major to hear the news and offer for Lillian? She wished it to happen immediately. She jumped from her chair and paced about the room. She was to ride with Lillian tomorrow afternoon; perhaps there would be news then. She hurried from the room to find Miss Brown.
Twenty
When Gwendeline met Lillian the next day for their ride, she scanned her face eagerly for some sign that the major had made an offer, but Lillian looked much as usual. There was no particular excitement in her expression; indeed, she seemed unusually subdued. As they started down a path, her conversation was of commonplace things. Gwendeline sighed. It seemed that nothing had happened yet. After a while, they sank into the companionable silence of old friends, and rode for some time without speaking. They’d reached a rather deserted stretch of parkland—their grooms had fallen behind and were talking together—when Lillian spoke again. Her tone was uncertain. “Gwendeline, have you had any, well, any rather strange conversations with Lord Merryn lately?” she asked hesitantly.
