Two days passed
pleasantly for Letitia, who went driving with Isobel, read the latest novel by
Fanny Burney, wrote several letters to friends, and, despite her fears, was not
visited by the Bishop of Mainwaring. She was becoming accustomed to the daily
routine of her life, and enjoying, rather than feeling guilty about the quiet
habits she had established.
Her life had been
dominated by the whims of Lord Morgan for so long that arising each day knowing
exactly what would happen seemed to be the fulfillment of all her dreams. She
realized that when her money was not constantly going into the pockets of
moneylenders and gamblers due to her husband’s caprices, she was a good manager
of her assets, and noted with pleasure that each week her income exceeded her
expenses.
For Lord Eynsford,
however, the days lagged. He attended Almack’s again with his long-suffering
mother and danced with a number of insipid young ladies, which encouraged the
rumor raging through the
ton
that he was hanging out for a wife. When,
to assuage his boredom, he stood up with Lady Exencour, the gossips fostered
the notion that he was planning to steal away his friend’s wife. He then
visited Watier’s, where he stayed late at the gaming table, waking the next
morning to discover that he had won 200 pounds and drunk far too much brandy. He
rose and wandered across his luxurious bedroom to his mirror, where he surveyed
himself lazily.
“You are a wastrel,
Eynsford,” he informed his reflection. He rang the bell for his valet.
“The black suit,
Boothby,” he said when that worthy entered.
“Excuse me, sir?”
said the valet.
“You heard me. The
black suit your brother-in-law made for me.”
Boothby blanched. “But
sir, I understood you would not be wearing that suit again.”
“You misunderstood
me, then. I wish to wear it today. Do not tell me that you burned it, for I did
not say that you might.”
“Of course I did
not burn it!” said Boothby indignantly. “I thought I might give it to the
butcher.”
His lordship’s lips
twitched. “You will not dispose of it. I will be wearing it in the future. I
might have a second suit made, as well.”
“Another suit?” Boothby
looked close to tears. “Sir, if I might--”
“You may not,” said
Phillip sternly. “Now bring me the suit. And please ask your brother-in-law to
make up a second one in blue.”
Boothby retired,
looking crushed, and returned shortly with the requested garments. He helped
the marquess dress, a martyred expression on his face.
Phillip inspected
his appearance closely. “Admirable,” he said. “I look excessively respectable.”
He turned to his valet. “Do you not think so, Boothby?”
Boothby sniffed. “Your
lordship naturally looks well in anything you deign to wear,” he said.
“How forbearing of
you,” Phillip responded.
Eynsford strolled
downstairs, ignoring the startled eyes of his staff, and sent around to the
stables for his curricle. After consuming a light breakfast and perusing the
papers, he went outside, to find his carriage and groom waiting, a censorious
look on the face of the latter.
“Aye, I heard you
were up to your nonsense again,” said Chisholm.
“Tongues will wag,”
observed his lordship. “But surely, Chisholm, you know better than to listen.”
“More than
servants’ tongues will be wagging if you keep this up, my lord,” said Chisholm.
“Ah, but we are
above the talk of the masses, are we not?” asked the marquess. He laughed at
the disapproving look on Chisholm’s face. “Do not fret,” he said in a kindly
tone. “No harm will come of this.”
“We’ll see about
that,” said Chisholm as Eynsford climbed into the carriage. “Are we going to
Kensington Gardens again?” he asked.
“Of course. I found
the air there particularly salubrious,” said Phillip.
They set off,
Eynsford driving at a brisk pace through the London traffic. Chisholm watched
him in silence for some minutes.
“If you’re not
wanting to be recognized, sir,” he ventured, “you oughtn’t to be driving
yourself. You have a singular way with horses and these greys are downright famous.”
“I am aware of
that,” said Eynsford. “Nothing, however, will convince me to ride in a hackney
carriage if I am not compelled to do so. Moreover, what makes you think I do
not care to be recognized?”
Chisholm laughed. “There’s
no other reason I can think of that you’d be wearing that suit,” he said.
“It just so happens
that there is only one person I am attempting to deceive,” said the marquess. “As
for the rest of the world, I really do not care what it thinks.”
Kensington Gardens
was reached without incident, and again the marquess abandoned his curricle and
groom to stroll about the grounds. It was not long before he spotted Lady
Morgan and her children. Jamie and Emily were chasing one another about and
Letitia sat on a nearby bench, doing some stitchery and watching them with a
smile. Phillip watched for some minutes and then stepped forward.
“Good afternoon,
Lady Morgan,” he said.
She gave a little
start and then turned towards him, a smile forming on her cupid bow lips. “Mr.
Markham!” she said. “How very pleasant to see you again. You will find that you
were right; Emily took no harm the other day.”
“She seems to be
perfectly well,” he said. “I am glad.”
“She has forgotten
all about the incident,” observed Letitia. “It would be pleasant if unhappy occurrences
later in life could be dismissed as easily.”
“It would indeed,”
agreed Eynsford. “I hope that, outside of the sad death of your husband, you do
not have many memories you would care to dismiss.”
He was surprised to
see a touch of humor creep into Letitia’s eyes. “Not many,” she said. “For even
the worst memories only serve to remind me that I am happy now.” She looked up
at him. “Won’t you sit down?” she asked.
“Thank you,” said
the Marquess. He seated himself gingerly on the bench, realizing as he did so
that he truly had no idea how a solicitor might treat a lady of much higher
rank. Happily for him, Letitia had never experienced such a circumstance
either.
“What brings you to
Kensington again, Mr. Markham?” she asked. “Surely your business keeps you busy
in London?”
“I have an invalid
client here,” lied Eynsford with abandon. “He is attempting to set his affairs
in order, and so I must visit him often. I sometimes take the time to stroll in
the Gardens afterwards.”
“It is very
peaceful here,” said Letitia. “I find it more pleasant than the bustle of
Mayfair, though it is, of course, far less exciting. But just now I do not need
much excitement in my life.”
“But surely you
miss the world you are a part of?” Phillip asked. “I must presume a lady such
as you would customarily attend balls, the theater, the opera...do you not care
for these activities?”
“Oh, very much,”
was the surprising reply. “I love to dance and to visit...but at present it
seems as though it is too much effort.” She laughed. “You will think I am very
silly.”
“On the contrary, I
think you make perfect sense. Simply because one enjoys something does not mean
that one wishes to do it all the time,” said Phillip.
“Exactly!” said
Letitia. “How clever of you to put it so simply. I love to dance, but I do not
care to dance today. Which is just as well,” she added with a smile, “as I am
in mourning and it would be quite improper.”
“And certainly the
park is no place to be dancing,” said Eynsford.
“Indeed. I will
have to postpone my dancing to another day.”
A small silence
fell, but there was no awkwardness between them. They watched the children play
for some moments and then James ran up, recognizing his friend.
“Mr. Markham!” he
said. “I am sorry I have no ball today or we could play again.”
“What a pity,” said
the Marquess. “However, I will doubtless see you again, if your mother permits.”
“May we, Mama?”
asked Jamie of his mother.
“Certainly, dear. But
you must not tease Mr. Markham. He is a busy man and may not always have time
for you.”
“He does not bother
me, ma’am,” said Eynsford. “He is a splendid lad.”
“I hope so,” said
Letitia, as Jamie ran back to his sister. “I worry at times, as his father is
dead, as well as his grandparents. I have few relatives, and those I possess I
do not find...congenial. I wish Jamie had a true gentleman to model himself
after.”
“Perhaps you will
marry again,” Phillip responded gently.
“Perhaps,” said
Letitia, “but I have no ambition for it. I am afraid my choice of a husband was
not a good one, and I would not like to make the same mistake again.”
“It is unfortunate
that your husband was not a good man,” replied Eynsford. “But surely you do not
believe that all men are the same.”
“Oh, I do not,”
said Letitia. “I know at least one very charming gentleman whom I trust
implicitly. It is my instincts I do not trust.”
“You are clearly
wiser than you were when you first married,” said the marquess. “You must trust
yourself, my lady.”
“You are probably
right,” agreed Letitia. “I do not always have confidence in my decisions. And
yet, I think those I have made recently have been good ones. Perhaps I am
becoming better at this.”
Phillip gave her a
charming smile and Letitia could not help reacting to his astonishing physical
beauty. She felt her heartbeat quicken and had to drag her gaze from his
handsome face and magnetic blue eyes.
“I think you make
excellent decisions, Lady Morgan,” he said. “Your decision to walk in the park
today, for instance, which gave me the opportunity to meet you again, is a fine
example.”
“How nonsensical
you are,” said Letitia. “And how kind. I am very pleased that we have met.”
“As am I,” said the
Marquess. “Your children appear to be tiring. May I escort you home?”
Letitia hesitated,
glancing at the children. Emily was clearly worn out and inclined to be cranky.
“I could carry
Emily, if you wished,” offered Eynsford. “She looks as though she would not
care to walk and she must be far too heavy for you.”
“Thank you,” said
Letitia. “That would be helpful.”
The group soon was
organized and walked towards the entrance to the park, the marquess carrying
the peevish Emily, Letitia holding James’ hand, and the nursemaid following
behind, rather bemused at the sudden reappearance of the fine gentleman dressed
in such odd clothing. She wondered what he might be playing at, but reckoned it
was none of her affair. Chisholm saw them as he walked the horses near the
gates, and whistled softly to himself.
“So that’s his
game,” he said quietly.
At the door to her
house, Letitia paused. “Thank you for your assistance. Would you care for some
tea?” she asked.
Eynsford hesitated
momentarily, but reflected that a solicitor would be unlikely to accept such an
invitation. “I thank you,” he said, “but I have an appointment. Perhaps I will
see you again.”
“That would be most
enjoyable. It was very pleasant talking to you, Mr. Markham.”
“The pleasure was
mine, ma’am,” said Phillip, bowing deeply. “Good-bye, James,” he said to the
boy. “I hope to see you soon.” He strode off and Letitia stood a moment looking
after him. What a very pleasant and remarkably handsome man, she thought. So
unaffected and friendly. She had previously had no idea that solicitors were so
gallant.
Eynsford returned
to the park and located his carriage, only to find his groom looking at him
with a jaundiced eye.
“Have I offended
you, Chisholm?” he asked sweetly.
“You’re in deep
waters now, my lord,” responded Chisholm dourly. “I don’t know what you’re
doing, but I don’t like it.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I saw the lady
sir, aye, and the children,” said Chisholm. “She isn’t one of your ladybirds,
she’s Quality. I don’t like it at all.”
“Your approval is
not called for,” said the Marquess. “All that is required is that you hold your
tongue.”
As though I would
say anything, sir!” Chisholm was offended. “You know you can trust me.”
“I am counting on
that,” said Eynsford. “For we will be coming here again.”
Chisholm pursed his
lips, but vouchsafed no answer. With an amused glance at his groom, Phillip
turned the curricle towards Mayfair.
Over the next few
weeks, to Chisholm’s dismay and Letty’s maid’s astonishment, Mr. Markham
encountered Lady Morgan many times in Kensington Gardens. A friendship sprang
up between them that surprised them both. The marquess, for his part, had not
expected to find that Lady Morgan held his interest, for in his experience few
women did. However, before very long he had discovered the core of humor and
determination that had caused numerous others, including Isobel, to think very
highly of Letitia.
He learned that she
was not only possessed of charm and beauty, but also intelligence, wit, and a
well-developed sense of the ridiculous. If her temper was mild, that did not
mean it could not be roused, and he came to realize that she felt strongly
about any number of topics. He enjoyed asking her about Society and listening
to her candid and often humorous answers; she was clearly cynical about the
world from which they came.
It amused him to
ask her questions about people he was also acquainted with and hear her candid
dissections of their characters. And his vanity was piqued by her apparent lack
of interest in him as a man. He knew that, even dressed in simple clothing and
lacking his title, he cut a dashing figure. Yet while her attitude was always
open and friendly, he could detect in her no hint of coquetry. She accepted him
simply as Mr. Markham, a solicitor and sympathetic friend, and no more.
Letitia had not
bothered to examine her feelings for Mr. Markham, for she had no reason to
think of him as other than a welcome, if unexpected, friend. She liked to seek
his advice on questions that were troubling her, and she soon learned that his
suggestions were sound. He was sympathetic and kind, but she also found that he
had a sharp sense of humor that lightened even the most serious conversation. Although
she knew she could turn to Isobel with her every thought, she enjoyed having
the opportunity to speak with someone who was less closely involved in her life
and who might have a different perspective.
Mr. Markham’s
interest in Society seemed natural enough to her, as he was not a member of it.
His admission that his family had until recently been minor gentry until
financial circumstances had forced him into a profession had not only covered
any lapses he might make, but had discouraged her from asking further
questions. She realized, in a vague sort of a way, that he was a very handsome
gentleman, but his manner was never lover-like, and she was set enough in her
determination not to remarry that it had not occurred to her to think of him as
anything but a friend. Increasingly, however, he was a friend upon whose
presence she relied.
One afternoon some
three weeks after they had first met, Lady Morgan and Mr. Markham sat in
Kensington Gardens. They had been discussing the latest doings of the Carlton
House set, about which Mr. Markham seemed to know a great deal. He had excused
his unusual knowledge on the basis that his sister was much fascinated by the
Regent, kept apprised of his doings through the scandal sheets, and frequently
shared her knowledge with her reluctant brother.
The comfortable
silence that can only exist between good friends fell now, and they sat
quietly, enjoying the sunshine and the noise of the children as they quarreled
over a toy. Young couples and nannies with children walked in the distance,
small dots of color splashed against the green landscape.
“It is quite lovely
here,” said Letitia finally. “I could wish that every day would be this
pleasant.”
“There is a certain
calm here one does not find in the city,” Phillip agreed. “And it is comforting
to sit in the sun and watch others go about their day. I fear I am a lazy
fellow.”
Letitia laughed. “Not
at all,” she said. “I am the villain of the piece for taking you from your
honest labor. I feel a mere grasshopper to your ant.”
Eynsford felt
slightly embarrassed at Lady Morgan's belief that he labored for his money. “But
you work very hard, my lady, raising your children and seeing to your home. I
know it is difficult for you.”
“Perhaps it is, but
I enjoy it more than I had thought possible. It is a good feeling to be able to
take care of oneself and not to rely on others,” said Letitia. “All my life I
have depended on my father or my husband or my friends to help me, and now,
though I would be much less well off without Lord and Lady Exencour's kindness,
I feel that I have some control over my own life.”
“I had never
considered that women must necessarily feel somewhat hedged about by those who
would take charge of them,” said Eynsford. “You are being unfair, Lady Morgan. You
are forcing me to think, and on such a beautiful day, too.”
Letitia attempted
to suppress a giggle and failed. “How reprehensible of me,” she said. “I am
sorry to have blighted your day.”
“Your apology is
accepted,” Phillip answered solemnly. “Now you must pay for your transgression
by spending the rest of the afternoon talking nonsense with me.”
“I am afraid I do
not have much experience at that, Mr. Markham,” said Letitia.
“Then I will have
to teach you. The point of the exercise is to make as little sense as possible,
and to avoid any topic which might be regarded as serious.”
“Oh, then it is
exactly like spending an evening at Almack’s,” said Letitia with a solemn air.
Eynsford was
greatly amused by this statement, but Mr. Markham had to respond differently. “That
I would not know, but if it is true, then you should be a master of the task.”
“A pretty picture
you have of me, sir!” declared Letitia. “I will have you know that in my Season
in London I was known as a young woman with an unusually serious turn of mind.”
“No, were you?”
asked Eynsford, laughter in his eyes as he recalled the merry creature he had
danced with. “How interesting. And I had thought you to be one of those giddy
females, entrancing the young men and dancing all night.”
Letitia tried not
to smile. “Not I,” she vowed. “I wore the plainest of gowns and danced only
with young men of sober character.”
“You are deceiving
me, Lady Morgan,” said Phillip. “I think it far more likely that you were
considered the loveliest young woman in London. I venture that you dressed
delightfully, danced divinely, and had many a young man eager to walk with you
in the Park. I would not hesitate to state that I believe you were a Toast!”
“How very skilled
you are at talking nonsense,” said Letitia primly. “I could never hope to rival
you, sir. You would fit in marvelously well with Society gentlemen.”
“Now I fear you are
insulting me,” Phillip answered. “I know what you think of them.”
Letitia finally
broke out in laughter. “I see there is not getting around you, Mr. Markham. Very
well then, have it your way. I was indeed a Toast, much admired by all,
including the Regent. I never came home before three o’clock in the morning and
never rose before noon. Dozens of young men were at my feet, all swearing their
undying devotion. I had my pick of all the most eligible men in the kingdom.”
“That I can believe
most readily,” said the marquess.
“And then what must
I do but pick Alfred, Lord Morgan to be my husband,” she concluded.
Lord Eynsford
looked at her closely, but she did not appear to be unduly upset by this
conclusion. She still smiled, and her eyes were untroubled.
“We are all
permitted to make mistakes,” he observed.
“And I made a very
serious one,” said Letitia. “But now it is past, and I have my children, whom I
can never regret.”
“I am glad to see
you so reconciled with your past,” said the marquess. “Am I right in believing
that you have found some happiness of late?”
“On a day such as
today, how can one be unhappy?” asked Letitia. “Today I can even feel sorry for
poor Alfred, for he never enjoyed the feeling of contentment I have. He was too
concerned with his hunting and his gambling to enjoy a day in the sun with his
children, in the company of an understanding friend.” She stopped and looked
slightly shamefaced. “I must sound dreadfully sentimental,” she went on. “Perhaps
I have read too many novels of late.”
The marquess
laughed. It gave him great pleasure to see Letitia so comfortable with her
surroundings, herself, and, most of all, his companionship. “Not at all,” he
replied. “Your feelings do you honor, but I admit it is more than I can do to
forgive your husband. You deserve far better.”
Letitia looked
thoughtful. “He meant well, at least at first, I believe,” she said. “It is
just that he was weak and could not control his impulses, and after a time, he
had no desire to do so. I do not know that I can forgive him, but I can feel
compassion for him.”
Lord Eynsford felt
a rush of tenderness as he watched Letitia. Her clear blue eyes were gazing off
into the distance, her hands folded in her lap, a small smile on her delicate
lips. The breeze just stirred the wisps of pale gold hair that peeked out from
her bonnet, and she presented a picture of almost celestial beauty and
fragility. He was not sure exactly how it had occurred, but he realized he had
possessed himself of one of her hands and now he pressed it gently.
“Your spirit does
you much credit, Lady Morgan,” he said. “I wish I could be of greater service to
you.”
She turned towards
him, a soft look in her eyes. “But Mr. Markham, you are a tremendous help to
me. I do not know what I would have done without your good advice and kind
friendship these past weeks. One of the reasons I am now so content is that I
know I can share my thoughts with you.”
“I am touched that
my small attempts to be helpful are appreciated, Lady Morgan,” said the
marquess. “It pains me to see you having to fend for yourself and, although I
have no right to feel this way, I wish I could protect you from the world.”
Somehow Lady
Morgan’s other hand had found its way into his grip as well. She glanced down
at their hands and then looked up into his bright blue eyes and was surprised
by the emotion she saw there.
“You are too kind,
Mr. Markham,” she said. “I must make my own way, but knowing you wish to help
eases my heart.”
The two sat for a
moment, hands and eyes locked. Phillip leaned forward slightly, and Letitia did
not draw away. There was a breathless pause.
“Mama...Mama, make
Jamie give me the ball,” intruded a small voice. Lord Eynsford dropped
Letitia's hands as though he had been stung, and the pair turned confused eyes
on Miss Emily Morgan. She tugged again at her mother's skirt.
“Mama, he's being
mean,” she said.
Lord Eynsford was
the first to recover his composure. “Mean, is he? Well, we will see about that.
Come along, Emily.” He offered his hand to the child and led her to where her
brother sat, the desired ball clutched in his hands. Letitia watched, rather
dazed, as he resolved the quarrel in a few short minutes, with the end result
that the children played together in harmony. She blinked her eyes. For a
moment it had seemed to her as though there were no one in the world except
herself and Mr. Markham. The look in his eyes and yes, the feeling she had had,
were quite extraordinary. But that was silly. She felt nothing but
companionship for Mr. Markham, and he surely felt nothing but the same for her.
The difference in their lives and conditions were so vast as to preclude anything
else.
By the time her
friend returned to her side Letty had recovered herself. It was silly, she
thought, to read anything into their conversation. Mr. Markham had expressed a
friendly concern for her, that was all. He had pressed her hand simply to show
her that he cared for her welfare, much as Isobel and Francis did. And she had
responded civilly and with the gratitude a friend deserved. All was just as it
should be.
The marquess was
also confused as to what had occurred. He gave only half his mind to the
children's quarrel, and occupied the other half of it with Lady Morgan. He
realized that he had been temporarily swept away on a wave of sentiment and had
perhaps expressed himself too strongly. Lady Morgan had looked quite lovely
with the sun on her hair and that dreamy look in her eyes. But, of course, he
felt nothing for her but the purest friendship. Indeed, he felt towards her
much as he felt towards his sister. He had a brotherly concern for Lady Morgan
and her children. He was concerned that she be comfortable and happy. There was
nothing more than that to it, he assured himself as he approached her.
She greeted him
with an unclouded smile, as their earlier conversation, she had decided, had
been pleasant but of no particular significance. Lord Eynsford was relieved to
see her looking so untroubled, and immediately concluded that his soft-hearted
reaction to Lady Morgan's speech must have been received exactly as it ought. Clearly,
he thought, she understood that his feelings were of the friendliest, but no
more than that.
“Your children are
delightful,” he said.
“How can you say
so?” she asked with a rueful smile. “You just now averted a quarrel.”
“But how quickly I
did so!” he answered. “My nieces and nephews would have been much more difficult
to reconcile.”