An Honest Deception (21 page)

Letitia reclined on
a
chaise longue
in her sitting room, a damp cloth on her forehead and a
bottle of smelling salts at hand. The curtains were drawn tightly against the
sun and her eyes were shut. She had never been one to suffer from headaches or
disordered nerves, but both had come on with alarming frequency since she
accepted Dr. Wolfe’s proposal. The only relief she could find was to retire to
a darkened room and see absolutely no visitors at all, including her cousin and
fiancé.

Her engagement to
the bishop was of two weeks duration now, and it had not brought Letty the
peace of mind she had expected after her discussions with her cousin. Instead,
it threatened to throw her into even more turmoil than Alfred’s death had. Dr.
Wolfe’s objective was now to have Letitia pack her belongings, and move to his
mother’s, home where he wished her and the children to live until they could be
married. Only the knowledge that while Emily’s recovery was certain, she was
still too weak to be moved prevented this eventuality.

Letitia’s
protestations that she did not wish to live with Dr. Wolfe’s mother were set
aside. Lord Bainstall assured her that preparing for her marriage would leave
her no time for caring for her own home, and the bishop declared that she would
love his mother, who, though sickly, would surely welcome her with open arms.

She was further
disturbed by Bainstall’s obvious intention to interfere with the management of
the Morgan estate. He was once again pressing her to sell it, and enlisting the
bishop in his campaign. Dr. Wolfe agreed wholeheartedly with his friend, and
assured Letitia that after their marriage he would look into the matter for
her, though he was sure that Bainstall had the right of it.

“For,” he said,
patting her hand reassuringly, “you are marrying me that I may take the burdens
of your day-to-day life from your shoulders, so you must permit me to make all
such decisions for you.”

Letty turned
restlessly on the chaise, attempting to shut the vision out of her mind. She
realized now that she had agreed to marry the bishop when she was deeply
fatigued from nursing Emily through her dangerous illness and had allowed
Bainstall to undermine her confidence in her own abilities. As the days passed
and she returned to a normal routine, sleeping and eating regularly, her
customary good sense rebounded as well. Now, she was alarmed by the turn her
life had taken.

Yet she could see
no clear way to extract herself. She had an obligation to her cousin for his
support of her during Emily’s illness and his words on the subject of being a
burden to others still seemed pertinent to her. She did not wish to be a charge
upon her friends or family.

Why, she wondered,
had she not married Eynsford when she had the chance? Her own stubbornness had
driven away the one man she now felt she could love. This realization
inevitably led her back to the conclusion that she deserved no better than
marriage to Dr. Wolfe for having so thoroughly botched her own affairs.

The door opened and
Letitia hastily closed her eyes, hoping the visitor would believe that she was
asleep and leave her in peace. She was not so fortunate. Baron Bainstall stood
over her and then cleared his throat loudly. “Letitia,” he said in a firm
voice. “Letitia.”

She reluctantly
opened her eyes and feigned a start. “Cousin! Whatever are you doing here? I am
afraid I am quite incapacitated and asked the maid to deny me to visitors.”

“She did so,” said
Bainstall, “but I told her you would not mind the visit of a relative. We have
important issues to discuss.”

“Have we?” faltered
Letitia. “I cannot think of anything. It is too early to be planning the
wedding and Emily is still recuperating...”

“On the contrary,”
said Bainstall. “It is never too early to discuss the nuptials, and Emily is
very much better indeed. It is time for you to put your aside your fears for
her and look forward to your new life.”

“My new life?”
echoed Letitia.

“Certainly, your
life with Dr. Wolfe,” said Lord Bainstall. “I venture to say you will be very
happy, and it will be a far better situation for Emily and James. I know of no
better behaved children than his Margaret and Druscilla and hope yours will
soon be as charming; although your offspring are lovely their spirits are
sometimes a trifle too high.”

“I think high
spirits are to be encouraged in the young,” protested Letitia, distracted from
her woes by his criticism of her children.

“You are very
indulgent,” observed Bainstall. “Luckily the bishop will be able to counteract
the worst of your excesses. He will also be able to provide for them other
things that they need, such as proper schooling and a dowry for Emily.”

Letitia bit her lip
on a retort, for Bainstall had hit quite precisely on her desire to provide for
James and Emily financially.

“But I digress,”
continued Bainstall. “I came to speak to you about removing from Ramsgate and
closing your house in Kensington. Emily will be able to travel very shortly, so
I propose that we begin to make arrangements. I have had some documents drawn
up which I will submit to my man of business in order to terminate your lease
and to draw up a marriage settlement. I wish you will sign them.”

He spread several
thick stacks of paper out before her and she looked at them nervously.

“Perhaps I should
read them?” ventured Letitia.

Bainstall smiled. “If
you feel you must, you may, of course,” he said. “But I doubt you would
understand them. I think you can rely on me, Letitia, to do what is right for
you.”

Letty frowned, but
reached for the pen Bainstall had brought from the writing desk and signed the
papers. Somehow her cousin always managed to make her feel like an
insubordinate child.

The baron gathered
up the papers and smiled on her. “Now we can begin preparing to return to
London. Do not bother your head about the details; I will arrange all.”

“I am capable of
ordering my own belongings,” began Letitia, but Bainstall interrupted her.

“Of course you are,”
he said soothingly. “But you are still recovering from your fatigue, and Emily
needs your attention as well. Dr. Wolfe and I wish to manage this for you and I
beg you will allow us to do so.”

Letitia sank back
on the couch with the reflection that most of the hypochondriacal women she
knew were probably married to men like Bainstall. Only illness would keep him,
with his constant officiousness and supervision, out of her presence.

“Very well,” she
said faintly. “And now I beg you to leave me. My head pounds quite dreadfully.”

“I am sorry that
you are unwell,” said Bainstall. “My dear wife frequently has the headache and
I know how much she suffers. However, Dr. Wolfe has agreed to meet me here, as
he is most anxious to see you today. He has great plans for you. I must wait
until he arrives.”

Letitia returned
the damp cloth to her forehead. “Dr. Wolfe is coming here?” she faltered.

“Certainly. He is
your fiancé and takes a great interest in your wellbeing. You should be
pleased, Letitia.”

“Oh, I am,” she
replied feebly. “I am very grateful.”

Letty subsided onto
the
chaise longue
, hoping that would ensure Bainstall’s silence, and the
two of them sat for some time, the baron leafing through his papers, while
Letitia closed her eyes and willed him to go away. Soon there was a bustle in
the hallway and Dr. Wolfe entered, a huge smile on his face.

“Bainstall!” he
exclaimed. “I see you are here before me! And my dear Letitia!” He took her
hand and planted a resounding kiss on it. “Are you indisposed again, my dear? My
late wife was also frequently ill, so I am accustomed to the frailties of
females. Rest assured that I will take good care of you.”

“Thank you,” said
Letitia, for lack of a better response. “Is there a purpose to your visit?”

“Only to see you,
and satisfy myself that all is well. Has Bainstall told you that you shall soon
be removing from Ramsgate? I am sure that you are excited at the prospect of
meeting my mother and preparing for our wedding. Bainstall and I have agreed
that the second week of February will be a perfect time. As your mourning ends
the week before, we can have a quiet wedding and notify the newspapers
afterwards. It will suit us perfectly.”

“Indeed?” asked
Letitia a trifle acidly. “I do not remember being consulted.”

“We have not
consulted you on the date, perhaps,” said the bishop, “but Bainstall and I are
agreed that the ordering of the wedding, what you wear and the food and
flowers, shall be yours to choose. I believe those are sufficient decisions for
you, eh?” He laughed loudly and Letitia winced.

“You are too
generous,” she said tartly.

“Now, Letitia, you
must not get upset,” said Bainstall. “I know you have the headache, but you
must not allow it to make you pettish.”

What Letitia might
have responded to this will never be known, for at that moment there a little
commotion in the hallway. They could hear people speaking, the maid responding,
and then more conversation.

“Are you expecting
visitors Letitia?” asked Bainstall.

“I don’t think so,”
said Letitia. “I have asked Violet to deny me, for I feel quite unwell.”

The door opened and
Violet entered, an apologetic look on her face. “Pardon me, my lady,” she said,
“but a lady and gentleman have arrived who insist that you will wish to see
them.”

“Lady Morgan is
indisposed,” said Bainstall solemnly. “And we do not wish to be disturbed.”

Letitia decided to
contradict this statement, if only to spite Bainstall. “Who is it, Violet?” she
asked.

“Lord and Lady
Exencour, ma’am,” replied Violet. “They seem very wishful of speaking to you.”

Letitia sat up
suddenly, the cloth falling from her forehead into her lap. “Send them in
immediately, Violet,” she said.

“How very odd, to
be sure,” said Bainstall. “Were you expecting Lady Exencour?”

“Not at all,” said
Letitia. “But I will be extremely pleased to see them both.”

“I cannot imagine
why,” observed her cousin. “Lady Exencour has brought nothing but confusion to
your life. Now that you are more happily settled I hope you will not allow her
influence to prevail with you.”

Letitia was
prevented from answering this by the entry of Isobel, who immediately swept
down upon Letty, enveloping her in a cloud of elegance, her dashing moss-green
travelling costume set off by a plumed Shako style bonnet looking decidedly
frivolous against the backdrop of the more sober bishop and Lord Bainstall.

“Letitia!” she
exclaimed. “Had I but known the straits you were in I would not have allowed
your letter to dissuade me from coming sooner. I thought that with Emily’s
illness on your mind you would find me a nuisance, but now I am persuaded that
was a dreadful mistake. I should have been with you every second.”

Letitia returned
the embrace with fervor. “It is so good of you to come,” she said. “And you, as
well, Lord Exencour.” She smiled warmly at his lordship, who stood just inside
the door viewing the scene with interested eyes. “You know my cousin already,
but do allow me to introduce the Bishop of Mainwaring to you.”

Lord Exencour bowed
punctiliously to that worthy, who responded by rising and clasping his hand.

“A true pleasure to
make the acquaintance of a member of the house of Strancaster,” he said
obsequiously. “I have already met your charming wife and am delighted to make
your acquaintance, sir.”

Lord Exencour’s
lips twitched but his countenance remained solemn. “Thank you,” he replied. “It
is good to see you again, Bainstall,” he continued, bowing in that gentleman’s
direction.

“What brings you to
Ramsgate?” asked the baron coldly.

“Why, Letitia, of
course,” said Isobel. “Her last letter rather alarmed me, and nothing would do
but that I must come.”

“There is nothing
here to alarm you, Lady Exencour,” said Bainstall repressively. “Lady Morgan is
being well taken care of by her family and friends. Your presence is quite
unnecessary.”

“I will be the
judge of that,” said Isobel. “Or rather, Letitia will be. Do you wish for me to
leave, my dear?”

“Certainly not,”
said Letitia. Isobel’s presence had immediately fortified her spirits, and she
felt her headache lifting. “I am delighted that you are here.”

“There,” said
Isobel. “Now, Letty dear, we must have a comfortable visit. Shall we go to your
room?”

“There is nothing
that Letitia cannot say in front of her cousin and fiancé,” said Bainstall
icily. “It is not necessary for you to leave us.”

“On the contrary,”
said Isobel. “You know how we women are; we should bore you gentlemen to death
with our talk of children and fashion and parties. You will be far happier if
we are elsewhere. Come along, Letty.” She bustled her friend out of the room
before anyone could catch a breath, leaving her husband to face the indignant
Bainstall and the confused bishop.

Isobel swept Letty
into the bedroom and shut the door behind them. “What a bind you are in, Letty!”
she exclaimed. “If it were not so serious, I vow I would not have been able to
stop laughing at the look on Bainstall's face when he saw me. He is fit to be
tied!”

“He does not like
you,” admitted Letty.

“Does not like me!”
exclaimed Isobel. “Rather, he is frightened of me, and well he should be. What
shall we do to get you out of this fix?”

Letty walked to the
windows and looked out sightlessly at the next building. “I shall not be
getting out of it, Isobel. I must marry Dr. Wolfe. I have given my word.”

“Do not be
nonsensical,” said Isobel. “Plenty of women have broken engagements with no
more than a second thought. You are no blushing girl in your first Season to be
branded a jilt for doing so; if you decide you shall not suit, then that is the
end of it.”

“But Isobel, I must
be married. I am not like you; I have no fortune to cushion my difficulties,
and while I can make do when all goes well, I cannot manage when things go
wrong. Emily's illness would have been much worse had not Bainstall rescued me;
she might have died without the help he was able to procure, and I certainly
would not have been able to pay for the doctors and medicine.”

“Does that now
entitle him to marry you off to his dreadful friend because you are somehow
beholden to him?” demanded Isobel. “That is not family affection as I know it.”

“Bainstall means
well,” said Letitia dolefully. “He has my best interests at heart and wishes me
to be comfortable.”

“So do I,” said
Isobel forthrightly, “but you do not find me urging you to marry a smothering
sycophant with no sense! Goodness, Letitia, you cannot mean to go through with
this.”

“I do not love Dr.
Wolfe--” ventured Letitia.

“I should hope not!”
interrupted Isobel.

“But he will treat
me kindly and will provide for James’ and Emily's futures,” continued Letitia.
“That is very important to me.”

“Have you gone mad,
Letty?” asked Isobel. “He will kill you with his kindness! He will tell you
exactly what to do each and every moment, until there is not a particle of
personality left in you. If it is just the money that worries you, I will
provide for James and Emily if you allow me to. There is no need to sell yourself
to Dr. Wolfe.”

“I cannot allow you
to assume responsibility for my children,” said Isobel in a quavering voice. “You
will have your own family to think of, after all.”

“Pray do not be
absurd! Francis is the heir to a dukedom. As if the Strancaster money will not
be enough and more to give our children what they need!” exclaimed Isobel. “Besides,
providing for Emily and James would be only a small charge on even my personal
fortune. But if you are bound and determined to marry in order to protect your
children, why in heaven’s name must you marry Mainwaring? Eynsford, despite the
deception he practiced upon you, would be preferable to him!”

Letitia turned away
to hide the tears in her eyes. “Lord Eynsford was merely doing what he thought
was right when he proposed to me, Isobel,” she said. “He has no real feeling
for me and I do not care to be married to a man who might publicly humiliate me
again.”

“What nonsense is
this?” asked Isobel. “Eynsford had no need to propose if he did not truly wish
to marry you; his behavior was not widely known and your reputation was not
harmed.”

“He felt it to be
his duty because of the situation he had placed me in,” said Letitia. “But now
that I know he is planning to marry another, far more suitable young lady, and
indeed has an agreeable
liasio
n with a married woman as well, I should
be very glad to have escaped as I did.”

Isobel laughed. “Letty,
I thought from your letter that you had some such ideas. Eynsford never courted
Lord Ravenscroft's daughter and has no intention of marrying her. As for Lady
Mowbry--while they undoubtedly shared a special connection some time ago, he
has not seen her in many months and has no desire to. Who has been telling you
these ridiculous stories?”

Letitia’s downcast
face told its own tale.

“Oh, I can guess,”
Isobel continued. “Doubtless your perfectly delightful cousin, who wishes you
to marry Mainwaring for your own good.”

Letitia looked at
Isobel soberly. She felt a sudden easing of the tightness around her heart.

“Oh, Isobel,” she
said. “Are you sure?”

“Eynsford was in
Scotland with us,” said Isobel. “I think that if he was planning to be married
soon or had some mistress about I would surely know. Letty, he is pining for
you, I am absolutely positive of it.”

A smile broke on
Letitia's face, but then her spirits fell again. “I sent him away very firmly,
Isobel. He cannot possibly wish to marry me now.”

“Think you so?”
asked Isobel. “Perhaps he would be the best person to consult. He came with us
from Scotland.”

Letitia instantly
turned a bright pink. “Eynsford is here?” she said breathlessly.

“He is at the inn,”
said Isobel. “He did not feel it would be proper to come immediately to your
rooms, but he hopes that you will agree to see him.”

“But I am engaged
to Mainwaring!” exclaimed Letitia.

“That is easily
enough remedied,” observed Isobel.

“I am not sure that
I should marry Lord Eynsford,” said Letitia. “I do not know him at all; I know
only Mr. Markham, who does not truly exist.”

“You do not have to
agree to marry him now,” responded Isobel. “Perhaps it is time that you made
his acquaintance. He only wishes to see you, after all. Surely there is no harm
in that?”