In his mind Kevin considered those matters – the foremost of which was, he had to admit, one Lady Hyacinth Gardenbrook. What would his father think of Lady Hyacinth, he wondered?
“I’ll be all right, I’ve done well enough until now, I can continue to do so. Even your mother doesn’t realise how serious this is – thankfully, she’s thoroughly distracted by the wedding preparations. You do what you need to do, but prepare – for when I do go, you’ll certainly have a lot to deal with, in that first few months.”
“Please, do not speak of it so – I am not yet ready to believe that you are doomed to leave us, and so soon.”
“Best get used to it, my boy – whether you want it to be true or not, I know that it is.”
They dropped into silence, and drank perhaps more brandy than was wise, Kevin was at a loss – what could he do, when his father had accepted his apparent fate with such equanimity? He wanted someone to talk to, to unburden his soul to – and he had no one who was that close to him. At that thought, the image of Lady Hyacinth rose in his mind, with the odd certainty that she would understand, and listen. But she was in London, and he was here.
That night, as he went to bed, he felt lonelier than ever before.
<<<< O >>>>
Lily’s wedding went off perfectly – much to the Duchess’ delight. Hyacinth was simply relieved – now she stood in the ballroom at Elbury House, talking to a group of people, which included the Duke and Duchess of Melton, Lord Kevin, and a few others that she barely knew. Her mother had made the wedding the event of the Season, and invited almost the entirety of the ton, it seemed.
Lord Kevin had been there, at the church, and Hyacinth had felt a rush of relief at seeing him. Somehow, just his presence made her feel stronger. For Lord Puglinton’s ultimatum echoed in her mind, every time that she paused long enough to allow thought to happen. She shivered, remembering it again – here she was, miserable, and afraid, in a room full of people who were all celebrating the obvious happiness of Lily and her new husband with great cheer.
She felt almost disloyal to Lily, for not being happy at her sister’s wedding, yet she could not stop the feeling, could not stop the fear. What answer could she give Lord Puglinton? For she had no doubt that he would do as he had threatened, and expose her to the ton, if she did not at least partly comply with his wishes.
She kept her false smile on her face, and let her thoughts wander. There was no way that she could find, to not think about Lord Puglinton, the journal, and her predicament. Lord Kevin glanced her way often, but said nothing. She almost wished that he would speak, for she was close to certain that he knew that something was wrong, for her.
Then the dancing began, and he offered her his arm.
She took it – they understood each other well enough now that he did not need to ask. He led her to the floor, and into place, as the waltz began. Only once they had been moving for some minutes did he say anything.
“Lady Hyacinth, what is wrong? For I am certain that something is. You seem quiet and withdrawn, yet I know that you are happy for your sister – you are not concerned about her marriage – so it must be something else.”
For a moment, she had the impulse to tell him everything.
She stopped herself. Telling anyone would only increase the risk of it all coming out. And there was no point – what could anyone do to help her? Nothing. She was in this situation because of her own actions, and she would have to deal with the consequences. Even if she refused to marry Lord Puglinton – and she would, for the idea revolted her – she would still be forced to keep writing articles for him, just to protect her sisters. And, as he had intimated, he could choose, at any stage in the future, to insist on the marriage – he held all of the power. She felt rather like a mouse, played with by a cat, simply for its amusement.
How could she prevent him from demanding marriage, later? Her mind tumbled around the question, even as she smiled at Lord Kevin.
“I am fine, my Lord – but the last few weeks have exhausted me, with all of the preparations. I fear that I am not good company at present.”
He raised an eyebrow, his eyes concerned, and she knew that he did not believe her excuse. That knowledge warmed her heart, even as it left her afraid.
Her mind went back to the matter of ensuring that Lord Puglinton could never demand that she marry him. The thought came, that really, there was only one way that could be made impossible – and that was if she was already married to another man. A tiny gasp escaped her.
Lord Kevin met her eyes, and she felt that she could drown in their deep brown depths. If I should have to marry, in haste, this is the man I would choose. The thought happened without any conscious intent on her part. It floated there in her mind, an idea that left her even more breathless. But why would he even consider such a thing? I do not know that he even cares for me, beyond our rather odd friendship… yet she could not easily dismiss the idea.
It seemed the single hope she had of any advantage in the matter.
She pushed it aside. Later, if such a thing became her only desperate hope, then maybe, if she was brave, she might ask him – but she was not certain that she was that brave, at all.
<<<< O >>>>
Kevin knew that she had lied to him – what he did not understand was why. She looked so sad, amongst all of the happiness of her sister’s wedding, and his heart ached – he wanted to take that sadness away, to fix whatever was causing it.
But she was stubborn, would not admit it, would not tell him – just as his father had been, for so long.
As they danced, he had wanted, so very badly, to lower his head to hers, and kiss her, to kiss away the sadness, until she smiled properly again. But he had done nothing of the sort.
They were in a very public situation, and such an act would ruin her reputation on the instant, and likely lead to them being forced to marry.
Which was, he realised, not an unpleasant thought at all. He pushed the idea away as foolish – he did not know how she felt about him, beyond a most unusual friendship, and he would not risk that friendship by doing anything inappropriate.
They danced on, and Kevin cursed, internally, the timing of everything. He was worried about his father, Charles and Maria’s wedding would happen in just two weeks’ time, and he had to be back at Chester Park within days, as a result. Yet he wanted to stay here, to see Lady Hyacinth as often as possible, to discover what it was, that had dimmed her bright nature so much.
When the dance ended, and he escorted her to where her family were gathered, leaving her there and walking away was the hardest thing he had ever done.
<<<< O >>>>
Three days later, back at Chester Park, that sadness on Lady Hyacinth’s face haunted him. He tried to ignore it, for there was nothing he could do – he would go back to London for a few days, then be back here again for Maria’s wedding. Until then, there was nothing he could do, nothing at all. Best that he concentrated, instead, on helping his father, and attempting to persuade him to see a physician sooner.
In the evening, he sat in the study with his father again, as had become their habit, nursing a brandy as they spoke of his life in London, and of the estates, and a wide range of other things.
“In London, the latest subject of gossip, is gossip, mad though that sounds.”
“What on earth do you mean?”
“Well, there is scandal sheet – ostentatiously called ‘The Society Commentator’ but which everyone has taken to calling ‘The Gossip Gazette’. Have you heard of it?”
“I have. There was some bad business with that one, a year or so ago, if I remember aright. It used to be more of a respectable newssheet, but the man who owned most of it ran into trouble, with gambling, or some such, and the ‘Commentator’ changed hands. I assumed that it had been used to pay off a debt. But there were rumours – which suggested that the card games involved had been rigged in some way, that the man had been set up to lose. He lost everything, and left the countr
y to escape his other debtors. Very bad business that. But no one ever proved anything, that I know of, and the new owner has made it much more of a scurrilous scandal sheet than anything else. What has he done now, to make it the talk of the town?”
“A week or two ago, it began running a new daily column – called something ridiculous like the ‘Voice of Truth’ – which features very sharp and sarcastic articles, based on the very real scandals of the aristocracy – the kind of thing that no one wants paraded on a newssheet. They are too close to the truth for anyone to like, although there are those who are titillated by such things. So the gossip spreads. No one knows who writes the column. And that intrigues them all, even more.”
His father snorted with laughter.
“You’d think they’d all have better things to worry about.”
Chapter Eleven
London was stifling, after Chester Park, the late spring weather as warm as summer. And that made the crowded ballroom positively sweltering. Nonetheless, Kevin was glad to be there. It was a relief, after the twin strains at Chester Park, of being cheerful about the wedding planning, whilst worrying more every day about his father’s health. And, of course, there was the hope of seeing, and conversing with, Lady Hyacinth.
He was standing, as he so often did, in a quiet corner of the room – as much as anywhere could be quiet – and observing. From one Ball to the next, little seemed to change – the crowds of young women in their pastel gowns, the clusters of older women in outdated gowns, the men who were looking to choose a wife, and the men who most definitely had no interest in marriage. The cast never changed – all that shifted was who was talking to, and about, who.
The more time he spent with Lady Hyacinth, the more he found all of it utterly dull – unless she was there. And she was. She had just arrived, with her family.
Kevin straightened, and watched as they made their way into the room, greeted by many of those present. He forced himself to wait, until the family had chosen a spot to stand, and the first rush of people going to speak to them had slowed. No matter how much he wished to simply charge across the room to Lady Hyacinth, he was not about to do anything so impetuous.
However, as he waited, and watched, concern filled him. Lady Hyacinth seemed even more withdrawn than she had been before he had gone to Chester Park. She stood there, but she was not talking to anyone, and her expression was dull, and almost sad. He was moving before he had time to think about it, no longer able to stay away.
But, before he reached her, Lord Puglinton was greeting her. When Puglinton went to take her hand, bowing, Kevin was quite sure that she flinched – physically flinched – away from him. There was something very wrong there. Lady Hyacinth did not flinch from anything, in his experience of her. The movement was corrected almost immediately, and he doubted that anyone else had noticed – but he had, because he had been watching her so closely.
Puglinton led her over to where people were forming up for the next dance, and Kevin clenched his jaw, filled with a desperate desire to push through the crowds around him, to rush to her side, to somehow rescue her from Puglinton. But… did she need rescuing? Or was that just his rather selfishly biased view of the situation? He did not know, but he resolved to ask her, as soon as he could. At least, with Lady Hyacinth, he could do that – simply ask, bluntly, and she would not be offended that he did so.
Casually, he went to her family, and greeted them.
The Duke cheerfully launched into a discussion of farming practices, and the innovations in greenhouses which had been made in recent years. Kevin was genuinely interested, for the Duke of Elbury was a very knowledgeable man – and it gave him an excuse to be right there, when Lord Puglinton escorted Lady Hyacinth back to her family, as propriety demanded he do.
Lord Puglinton glared at Kevin as he approached with Lady Hyacinth, and Kevin smiled at the odious man, as if he cared not one whit what he did. Puglinton bowed stiffly, released Lady Hyacinth, and moved off. Lady Hyacinth, as if unaware of her actions, moved until she stood close to Kevin. So close that he became aware that she was quivering. He turned to her.
“Lady Hyacinth – I trust that you are well tonight, even though the heat in this ballroom is sufficient to cause one to feel faint.”
Her eyes met his, and they seemed to be filled with some unspoken anguish.
“I am well enough Lord Kevin, although I must agree with you – it is quite stifling in here.”
“Will you walk with me, a little? Perhaps the terrace is cooler?”
He offered her his arm, and she placed her hand on it, her fingers tightening, far more so than normal.
“I will, thank you. Perhaps there is a breeze outside.”
The Duke had observed this exchange and nodded pleasantly at Kevin as they moved away towards the doors. Kevin was beyond glad that Lady Hyacinth’s father appeared to trust his daughter with him, without hesitation.
They did not speak as they moved around the edge of the room, and Lady Hyacinth appeared to barely notice the people around them – which for her, was most unusual. Once they had reached the doors, and stepped out onto the terrace, she seemed to relax a little. He led her to a bench which was set at the far end of the paved terrace, hoping that the distance from the doors might provide a little privacy. She sank down onto the seat beside him, and stared out at the moonlit garden.
“Lady Hyacinth?”
She started, just a little, as if she had been deep in thought, and turned to face him.
“I am sorry, Lord Kevin, I am a little distracted this evening.”
“That I can see. I am about to do something which may be foolish, but I trust that you know me well enough by now to accept my bluntness.” Her face filled with confusion, but she said nothing, waiting for him to go on. “Lady Hyacinth, I am quite sure that there is a problem of some sort, between you, and Lord Puglinton. I noticed, even if no one else did, the way that you flinched away from his touch when he greeted you. Please – tell me the truth of it – has he stepped beyond the bounds of propriety in some way?”
Expressions flitted across her face – so rapidly that he could not quite tell what each was. Then she gave a little shake of her head.
“No. It is nothing like that. It is just that… he wants to marry me – and he seems to think that I should be glad of that. He is persistent, yet I find him odious. He does not accept my rejection of his suit, no matter how often I tell him that I am not interested in marrying him.”
“I see. That is most improper of him – a gentleman should adhere to a lady’s wishes, even if he fervently hopes for something different. But… your reaction seemed most intense – are you quite certain that there is nothing more to it, to your distress in his presence? I would assist you in any way that I might, if there was need, if you would permit me.”
She stilled, and he wondered if he had said too much, had gone well beyond the bounds of propriety himself, in enquiring into her personal state. But the fact that he was quite certain that she lied, that she was keeping secrets from him, when always before, until this last few weeks, she had been refreshingly honest in everything, worried him. She met his gaze, and the soft blue of her eyes was filled with a deep sadness, and something else… fear? Surely not fear of him? Then she turned her head away. Her voice was a little shaky when she spoke.
“Lord Kevin, if there was a way in which you could help me, I would not hesitate to call upon you. But there is nothing you need do for me at this time. I will endure Lord Puglinton’s persistent attention, and continue to deny him. I would not create a scandal which might reflect upon my sisters.”
He was sure that the words disguised the truth in some way, but he could do nothing but accept them at face value.
“I know that you would not, for you care for them deeply. Even so, should things change, should you need my help…”
“I will ask you. Thank you.”
They sat a little longer on the terrace, the heat softened by the light breeze, unt
il they heard the orchestra begin for the next set.
He touched her hand gently, and she rose, nodding. Nothing more was said, and they went inside to dance.
<<<< O >>>>
The following day, Kevin rose late and, after dealing with the day’s correspondence, he decided to spend an hour or two at his club. Of late, he had not seen much of the men he had been at school with, and he wondered what was happening in their lives. It was remarkably easy to lose touch, when Chester Park took so much of his time and his thoughts in recent months. Not that he had a lot in common with most of them, but still, connections were worth keeping.
The place was quiet, so early in the day, but a few men were gathered in the lounge, some with coffee, some with brandy. He dropped into a seat beside them, and ordered coffee. Lord Helmwood turned to him, smiling.
“You’ve been a stranger for a while, Loughbridge – what brings you here today?”
“I’ve been a stranger, because my sister is about to marry, and my family have been demanding my attention. Today, I am here to escape all of that, and think of other things entirely!”
They laughed sympathetically.
“Perhaps you’d be better with brandy than coffee then!”
Kevin shook his head, and sipped the coffee, which had just been delivered.
“Enough time for brandy later. But tell me – what is new in your lives? So long as it has nothing to do with weddings.”
They laughed again, but nodded. Then Helmwood spoke.
“Hmm – well, recently, I’ve developed a bit of an interest in gossip. Never cared for it before… but now…”
Kevin looked at him, utterly surprised.
“Gossip? Whatever for?”
“It’s the ‘Gossip Gazette’ – have you seen the things they print in that ‘Voice of Truth’ column? Funnier than any gossip I ever saw or heard before, and remarkably on point for most of it being true. Makes me wonder who the hell writes it, for they certainly have the entrée into society, to be getting so much scandalous information on so many people.”
A Vixen for a Viscount: Book 2: Hyacinth - Clean Regency Romance (A Duke's Daughters - The Elbury Bouquet) Page 9
