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Authors: A Very Dutiful Daughter

Elizabeth Mansfield (22 page)

***

Roger and Letty had searched the maze without success until the first burst of fireworks lit up the sky. “They’ve started,” Roger remarked. “She cannot still be here. She must have gone back to your aunt by this time.”

“I hope so,” Letty said, troubled. “Do you think she can have found her way back alone?”

Roger smiled at her comfortingly. “She is quite resourceful. I’m sure she can.” Seeing that Letty still looked dubious, he pulled her arm through his and led her to the exit of the maze. When they came out to the open pathway, there was no one to be seen. A second burst of fireworks crackled in the air, causing Letty to jump nervously. Roger turned to her, took the green shawl from her arm, and draped it over her shoulders. “Come along, my dear,” he said. “I’ll have you back with our party in a moment, and you’ll see for yourself that Prue is safe and sound and undoubtedly enjoying the fireworks without a care in the world for
you.

They hurried along the pathway and turned into the brightly illuminated lane that led to the knoll where their party waited. This lane was crowded with people moving in both directions, laughing, carousing, and looking up at the sky. Passage was difficult, and even with Roger’s expert maneuvering, their progress was slow. At one point, their way was completely blocked by three people who walked abreast, preventing any passage around them. The three persons, a tall woman wearing a poke bonnet trimmed with enormous feathers and a gentleman on each side of her, were proceeding so slowly that Roger became impatient. Tapping one of the gentlemen on the shoulder, he begged pardon for disturbing him, requested passage room, and guided Letty through the space he had arranged between the bonneted lady and the gentleman.

They walked on for only a step or two when the lady’s voice stopped them. “This is fine treatment, I must say, Lord Denham,” she said with a ringing laugh. “Is this the way you treat old friends?”

Roger seemed to stiffen at the first words, and he and Letty turned around. “Kitty!” he said, his
voice shocked and edged with steel.

The lady was indeed Kitty Brownell. Ignoring the coldness in his voice, she came purposefully toward him, a bright smile fixed on her face, her hand extended for him to kiss. But a choked gasp from Letty diverted Roget’s attention, and he quickly turned to her. Her face was white, and as he watched, her trembling hand flew to her mouth as she stared at the approaching woman with horrified eyes. For the briefest of moments, Roger was puzzled. She didn’t know Kitty—they
couldn’t
be acquainted! Then why was Letty reacting so strangely to the sight of Kitty? He glanced quickly at Kitty, who had heard Letty’s gasp and was looking at her with cool curiosity, and then he looked back at Letty. A glimmer of a memory struck him. But even before his
mind
was able to grasp what it was that he’d remembered, his
feelings
grasped it. He felt a sharp contraction in his throat. There was something terribly disturbing about this scene. Disturbing and
familiar.
Letty’s horrified eyes … her green shawl … the bright garden lights all around them … Kitty. He had seen all this before. Good Lord! he thought, gasping audibly, the girl at Vauxhall!

For a frozen moment they all stared at each other. Then Kitty, her eyebrows raised quizzically, turned to Roger. “Really, my dear, what—?” she began.

But Roger did not heed her. He was staring at Letty agonized. With an urgent movement of his hand, he took a step toward her and clutched her shoulder. “Letty—?” he asked, pleading.

But Letty took a step back, shaking off his hand and leaving only the shawl in his grasp. With one last, horrified look at him, she turned and fled, brushing by the startled strollers without stopping, blundering into people like someone blind, on and on down the path until at last she was lost from his view.

Chapter Fifteen

Kitty Brownell surveyed Roger curiously. He was staring down the road after the disappearing girl, his brow furrowed, his mouth in a tight line, his eyes unreadable. The fist in which he clutched the green shawl was clenched so tightly that the knuckles showed white. “Who was that peculiar girl?” she asked bluntly.

Roger forced himself to attention. “Good evening, ma’am,” he said with cool formality, “I had no idea that Bath still had attraction for the fashionable set.”

“You, my lord, are the attraction. I had intended to surprise you,” she said with a teasing smile. “I seem to have succeeded beyond my expectations.”

Lord Denham ignored the hints of intimacy in her tone and asked in a businesslike manner, “Are you fixed in Bath or just passing through?”

“Oh, I’m quite fixed. I’ve taken a house in the Paragon,” she answered. “Number twelve,” she added, her voice lowered. “Perhaps you would care to call on me there tonight.”

Roger made a gesture toward the two gentlemen who escorted her. They had stepped aside as soon as they had become aware that some private drama was being played, but they remained waiting for Mrs. Brownell to acknowledge them. “I see you are well provided with company for the evening. You won’t have need of me.”

“The gentlemen with me tonight? Oh, my dear, you’re not going to pretend to be jealous of
them,
” she said archly. “They are old friends who insisted on accompanying me on my journey from London. We only arrived today, you know.”

“No, I’m not going to pretend to be jealous, ma’am,” Roger said shortly. “Nor am I going to pretend to be pleased at your decision to take up residence here—a decision that I consider greatly lacking in both propriety and taste.”

Kitty’s smile grew strained. In an attempt to change the subject, she said hurriedly, “May I present my escorts to you?”

“Spare me, Kitty, please,” he said in an undertone that brooked no argument. “I’m in quite a hurry and must instantly take my leave of you.”

Unmindful of observers, she clutched his arm. “You can’t go like this, Roger. Do you think I’ve come for any reason but to see you?”

“I will call on you,” he said stiffly.

“Tonight?” she pressed.

He frowned at her in irritation. “Not tonight. You did notice, did you not, that I am otherwise engaged this evening?”

“Later tonight, when you have finished with that strange creature?”

“Damn it, Kitty, not tonight,” he said between clenched teeth.

“Tomorrow, then.”

He bowed in cold acquiescence and walked off quickly. She watched him for a moment with eyes that smoldered. Then, taking the arm of each of her escorts, she favored them with a smile as vivacious
as it was false.

Roger hurried away down the path, dismissing Kitty from his mind. She presented a problem that he knew he must solve, but a solution would not be difficult to find. He would deal with her in due course. It was this new revelation about Letty that worried him. He needed time to think, to remember, to understand what he had done to her and how to make amends. He looked down at the green shawl in his hand. For a moment it had seemed to be a green domino.

The incident at Vauxhall was merely a blur in his memory, but he had no doubt that it was the clue to Letty’s fear of him and to those occasional moments when she seemed to view him with aversion. He must have treated her dreadfully if the incident had lingered in her mind with such painful intensity. He flushed with humiliation to think that he could ever have used his lovely Letty as if she’d been nothing more than a bit of muslin! Gentle, sweet, sensitive Letty. What had he done to her?

The sky above him burst into spectacular brightness, and the air boomed with the sound of dozens of fireworks being set off at once. The display had no doubt reached its climax and would be ending shortly. There was no time for him to think. He needed solitude and quiet in order to prod his memory. But there would be no solitude until he returned his guests safely to their home. And there would be no quiet until he could calm the turmoil inside him. At the moment, nothing was clear except that he loved Letty with an aching certainty. He had the terrible feeling that his whole life was falling down around him, and the falling shower of sparkles from dozens of fireworks only seemed to add to that illusion.

***

Letty had run down the path in heedless misery, not knowing where she was fleeing or what she was to do. It was only when she almost blundered into a tree that she stopped running and began to return to awareness of her surroundings. She was gasping for breath and sobbing. People on the path were looking at her curiously. She knew she must contain her emotions and return to her aunt. She moved around the tree so that it hid her from the lane and leaned against it until her breath was regained. Pressing her hands tightly against her chest, she forced her sobs to cease. What was there to cry about? she asked herself. She had known for a long time that Roger had a mistress. She had even seen Mrs. Brownell before. Of course, she had had no idea that Roger had installed her
right here in Bath
! That fact was indeed shocking, but certainly not something to cry about.

She realized bitterly that she had behaved like a child instead of a woman of sense and dignity. She should have pretended to be ignorant of Kitty’s identity, permitted Roger to introduce them, and continued the evening as if nothing had happened. Instead she had behaved as if the world had come to an end. She had embarrassed Roger, made a fool of herself, and now had to face the others looking red-eyed and distraught.

She sighed tremulously and a fresh spring of tears spilled from her eyes. She had really believed he loved her. During these past few weeks in Bath, Roger had been so attentive, so charming, so … loving. When he had sat beside her on the churchyard wall and said those beautiful words, she would have sworn he was utterly sincere. What a fool she was. He had probably had his mistress conveniently established in Bath
all that time
!

But she could not dwell on the matter now. She had to compose herself. No matter how difficult, she was determined to pass off the rest of the evening with some vestige of self-respect and dignity. She wiped her eyes, forced herself to breathe deeply and evenly, and hurried off down the path to find her party.

When she came to the place where the Lady Denham and her guests were ensconced, the first
person she laid eyes on was Prue, sitting beside Mr. Eberly, gazing up at the fireworks with childish absorption. Letty felt a twinge of shame.
Prue …
She had completely forgotten her! “There you are, Prue,” she said with all the cheerfulness she could muster. “We looked all over the maze for you. You alarmed us greatly, you naughty puss!”

“Don’t scold me, Letty,” Prue pleaded. “I’ve had the most dreadful time. You see, as soon as I’d left you—”

“Before you hear the tale,” Lady Denham interrupted, “please tell us what has become of my irresponsible son. It was unforgivable of him to permit you both to go about alone!”

Letty, living up to the promise she had made to herself, answered pleasantly, “He was not irresponsible, ma’am, I assure you. Prue ran away from us—you cannot blame Lord Denham for that. And as for me, I have only walked on ahead of him. He met a … a friend a little way back on the path and stopped to exchange greetings.”

Satisfied with Letty’s explanation, Lady Denham allowed Prue to relate the horrifying tale of her misadventures in the labyrinth, a tale to which Letty reacted with consternation and sympathy. Roger made his appearance shortly thereafter. His eyes immediately sought Letty’s face, but she did not look at him. He was greeted eagerly by Prue and the others, so he concluded that Letty had not revealed anything about Kitty’s appearance. Following her example, he pretended to a nonchalance he was far from feeling and turned to Prue demanding an accounting of her whereabouts. The story was then repeated for his benefit with all the dramatic details included. While Prue told it, he moved unobtrusively behind Letty and put the shawl around her shoulders. She shuddered and pulled it off, but gave no other sign that she was aware of his existence.

At the conclusion of Prue’s tale, Roger admitted to being much abashed by his failure to care for her properly. He thanked Mr. Eberly profusely for his aid to Prue in those dire circumstances. “No need for thanks,” Mr. Eberly said, smoothing down his mustache in a deprecating manner. “I’ve been thanked quite enough by the young lady herself. To be cast in the role of rescuer is quite a romantic adventure for an old codger like myself.”

Roger looked at him askance. “Old codger? You can’t be more than eight and thirty.”

“Thirty-seven, actually,” he sighed. “I didn’t consider myself elderly, either, until Miss Prue pointed out to me that I’m old enough to be her father.”

“Oh, I see,” Roger said, smiling at him with quick and sympathetic understanding. “So that’s the way it was.”

Mr. Eberly’s eyes met Roger’s, and he shrugged ruefully. “I’m afraid so.”

“You shouldn’t let it weigh with you, you know. The perspective of seventeen years is a distorted one when it looks toward thirty.”

“Oh, it doesn’t weigh with me, my boy. Not at all,” Eberly assured him with a wry smile. “The fact that I’m suddenly quite tired and shall have to lean heavily on my cane on my way back to my bedroom does not signify at all.” He bid his good nights to the ladies and, with a wink at Roger, hobbled off, leaning on his cane in an exaggeratedly elderly manner.

To Letty’s relief, Roger did not go to her but sat down next to Prue. He spent the rest of the evening trying to explain to that heartless young vixen that telling a man he is old enough to be her father was a worse than tactless way of thanking him for his gallantry. Prue merely shrugged and said that since he
was
old enough to be her father (or at least
looked
so) she had only spoken honestly.

Not long afterward, Lady Denham led her guests back along the path to the waiting carriage. In the brightness of the illuminated lane, Prue noticed the redness of Letty’s eyes. “Letty,” she cried in another tactless act, “have you been
crying
!”

“Of course not, silly,” Letty said quickly, trying with a quelling glance to silence her sister. But both Lady Denham and Millicent had heard. In the carriage, the strained silence between Roger and Letty was noticed, and the redness around Letty’s eyes could easily be discerned by Aunt Millicent’s sharp eyes. “I hope you will find time to meet me at the library on Milsom Street tomorrow,” Millicent said to Lady Denham in discouraged tones when the carriage arrived at her door.

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