Midnight Bride (24 page)

"Remember, my dear, it is early yet. When everyone arrives . . ."

"There will be no room for any of us to enjoy anything," Elizabeth said dully, wondering not for the first time how she had convinced herself that coming to Brighton was the right move. Then the carriage stopped. As soon as the coachman dropped the knocker, the door to the town house opened, and servants rushed out to assist them from the carriage. Elizabeth took one look at the tall man directing the servants and turned back to Louisa, "What is the butler's name?" she asked, panicked as she always was when she could not remember the name of a person she should have known.

"
Smythe
."
Louisa's tones were as soothing as the lady could make them, considering how tired she was. "He was at the estate at Christmas," she said, reminding herself that Elizabeth could not help her bad memory for names. The poor dear had tried hard enough.

"Well, I do not know why they had to pension off Old Thompson," Elizabeth mumbled. "I knew his name." She allowed herself to be handed out of the carriage and rushed into the house.

"Louisa, how good to see you once again," said Lady
Ramsburg
, a petite blonde whom most people thought in her thirties rather than past forty. Long ago she and her late husband's connection had decided that a surface formality made their lives run more smoothly.
"Elizabeth, darling, how wonderful to see you again.
I had quite given up hope to have you with me this summer." This time her face was a study of delight. "How surprised I was to get your message. And pleased, very pleased. Now I am certain that you will want to rest for a while. Then I have promised to share you with one or two other hostesses. Company in Brighton is still rather thin, but as soon as the last ball of the Season is held in London, you can be sure that this will become one of the liveliest cities in the country." Leading them up the stairs, she linked her arm with Elizabeth's. "You must tell me everything you have been doing, my dear." She took a step up and looked back at the two ladies, evaluating their clothes carefully. "Not terrible, but not the latest in fashion either. Tomorrow we will call on my
modiste
, a clever woman who has discovered that Brighton in the summer is more worthwhile than London," she told them.

Louisa followed along behind, smiling indulgently and making the right replies. As soon as she had been shown into her room, she sank into a chair. She pulled the pins from her hat and waited.

Before long a quiet scratching sounded on the door.
A moment later Lady
Ramsburg
slipped in and closed the door quietly behind her.
"Tell me how you managed to get her here, Louisa!" she demanded
,
her face still flushed with happiness.

"This was none of my doing, my lady." Lady
Ramsburg's
face went blank for a moment, and then she frowned. Louisa said quietly, "There is a problem."

"Tell me." Elizabeth's stepmother sank to the chaise and leaned back, one hand thrown dramatically across her forehead. By the time Louisa had finished, she was sitting up straight, her artistic pose forgotten. "Damn and blast! Men! Why do they always have to create
problems.
If Elizabeth had only accepted him when he first offered."
She looked at her confidante, anger in every line of her body. "I suppose there is no choice. Write him tomorrow, Louisa. He will not appreciate being made the butt of
ton
gossip any more than we will." She got up, straightened her pale blue gauze robe carefully, and then asked, "What do you think happened that evening?"

The question was one that Louisa had given much thought to. But as before, she had no facts on which to base her decision.
"Nothing.
I am certain it was nothing."

"Nothing or not, he will marry her. How could she be so foolish as to turn him down, the heir to an earldom too?"

"Have you ever known Elizabeth to do anything sensible if it involved a man?" Louisa
asked,
her voice dry.

"No. I tried to persuade her that Jack was a bad choice, but she was determined to have him. And look what that brought her. This time she will be governed by us." Lady
Ramsburg
crossed to the door and stood there a moment, a determined look on her face.

Louisa, who had seen that same look not long before on Charles's face, was wary. "We have never been successful in the past. What makes you believe we will do better this time?" she asked, glad to have someone to share her worries.

"She is older this time. And she did choose to come here. That must mean something," the smaller woman said with a smile. "Rest now, Louisa. I will send a maid with a tray for your supper. And do not worry. Everything is in my hands."

A few doors down the hall, Elizabeth was telling herself much the same thing. "I can do this. I am not afraid." But every time she thought of facing society again she felt ill. Quickly she undressed, slipping a wrapper of her favorite turquoise on and allowing her stepmother's dresser to brush her curls into some semblance of order. Finally she sat on the chaise and accepted a cup of tea, hot and creamy just as she liked it.

Her quiet reverie came to an end just minutes after it began. Her stepmother, armed with information from Louisa, was at hand.
"How wonderful that you finally accepted my invitation.
If only Charles were here to complete this little party," Lady
Ramsburg
said wistfully. "Do you know where he is now? I have written him in London, but I have received no reply."

Elizabeth kept her face from turning red by force of will alone. She said calmly, "The last word I had from him was that he was returning to the capital. I am certain that he will write to you very soon. You know how he forgets important things like letters."

"Well, I suppose you are right.
But how vexatious he is.
Did he tell you,
Elizabeth, that
he has absolutely refused to consider any of my suggestions for a wife? And most of them were absolutely perfect for him. Perhaps you could persuade him to marry." Lady
Ramsburg
perched on the edge of one of the rose pink satin chairs she had added to the room recently. She looked at Elizabeth expectantly.

Her stepdaughter, no longer as calm as she had been only moments before, now sat on the edge of the chaise. "If you are hoping that I will persuade Charles to marry simply so that the estate can have an heir, Mama, you had better be ready for disappointment," Elizabeth said firmly.

Lady
Ramsburg
allowed herself to wilt a little, sinking deeper into her chair. Her chin wobbled gracefully. Elizabeth watched, fascinated. "Of course, I should have known," the older woman said in a voice that held a disturbing tremble. "You and Charles have made a pact. I am never to be a grandmother!" She threw her head back against the chair and paused for a moment, her hand over her brow.

Elizabeth stood up, clapping.
"Bravo, Mama, bravo!"

The older woman flushed angrily and stood up so that she could stomp her tiny foot.
"How unfeeling!"

"And how long have you been practicing that?" Elizabeth asked with a cheeky grin. "More important, what did poor George have to give you so that you would cease
your
posturing with him? You are very good, you know."

Breaking into laughter, her stepmother stepped closer to her and pulled her to the chaise.
"You unfeeling girl.
Never have I needed to use such wiles on my husband. He loves me. And I have reason to doubt my children do."

"What a corker! And I suppose we beat you, too?"

"Sit down, you miserable creature, and tell me more about what you are doing here. Your letter was far from revealing."

"But I imagine Cousin Louisa has given you as much information as she knows," Elizabeth said dryly. She had known that her stepmother would refuse to be put off. But she had hoped to have at least one night of rest before she had to face her. "Besides, I am certain that you are expected somewhere this evening. I would never forgive myself for disappointing your hostess."

"George has gone ahead. He will send the carriage back for me presently. And my hostess knows that I was expecting you. Now, tell me everything." She sat back, leaning on the back of the chaise.

Elizabeth glanced at her once and then looked away. From first glance, Lady
Ramsburg
looked as dainty and fragile as a Sevres vase. But her closest friends and her family knew that steel was hidden under her skin. She could dance the night away or argue politics with the sharpest minds in the nation. And the next day she would appear as fresh and vibrant as the evening before. During her Seasons, Elizabeth, who discovered that she had to have a nap each afternoon if she were planning to stay awake until dawn, had envied the lady her stamina. That stamina made her a fearsome opponent. Giving in gracefully, Elizabeth spilled out the story. "You can see that I had to refuse him, Mama. He is nothing more than a fortune hunter." The tone begged her stepmother to agree with her.

For a few minutes Lady
Ramsburg
was quiet. Elizabeth, accustomed to the lady's methods of thinking everything out clearly, waited impatiently for a reply. She got up and began walking around the room. Lady
Ramsburg
simply used her absence as an opportunity to swing her legs from the floor and onto the chaise. After minutes that seemed as drawn out as a year of mourning, the younger lady could wait no longer. "Have you decided to disown me, then?" she asked, half fearful of the reply.

Lady
Ramsburg
ignored the remark and sat there silently for a few minutes more. When Elizabeth was certain that if her stepmother took one minute more to answer, she would scream, the lady asked quietly, "What did you say the gentleman's name is?"

"Lord Dunstan." The words flew into the silence.

"Hmmm."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

The older woman looked up impatiently, obviously still deep in thought. "What did you say?"

"Mama, speak to me. Tell me what you are thinking." For miles Elizabeth had been preparing herself for the peal that Lady
Ramsburg
would ring over her, and all the lady did was sit there. It was more than her already stretched nerves could bear. "Why did you say 'hmmm'?"

"Because I was wondering about something."
Lady
Ramsburg
looked at her stepdaughter fondly.

"What?"

"For one thing, why do you think Lord Dunstan a fortune hunter?" she asked quietly. She smiled at the girl who was as dear as any natural daughter could be, encouraging her.

"What else could I think? Oh, I had my doubts. Mama, he has written such kind letters. But why else would he offer for me?"

"My dear, have you looked in your mirror lately?" her stepmother asked dryly.

"But I am on the shelf."

"Not all gentlemen are impressed by girls in their salad days. Remember what a stir I caused when I came out of mourning." She preened herself slightly, her sparkling blue eyes so like her son's.

"You are beautiful as well as healthy and wellborn, Mama. Of course you were sought after. And you know how to talk to people. All I have is money and a miserable habit of forgetting people's names."