She drummed impatiently with her fingers. “Now I am at a grave disadvantage, as I do not know what condition we are in, and I refuse . . . I would die rather than approach him again. Therefore, I shall hire a solicitor of my own and send him off to interrogate that beastly Sanders about everything to do with the estate. It is all I can do.”
“Perhaps if you went to Mr. Sanders,” Lady Englewood suggested, “and threw yourself upon his better nature . . .”
Lady Biskup let out a peal of bitter laughter. “You have not changed one jot, Blanche, in all these years.”
Lady Englewood brightened. “I thank you for those kind words, my love. We shall be friends again, after all. Only this morning I feared that I had discovered the tiniest little line across my brow. But if you say I have not changed, perhaps it is not apparent to the outside world.” She sighed. “How quickly the years are speeding away from us, Ruth. Can you believe that I shall be all of twenty-nine years old my next birthday?”
“No, I cannot!” Lady Biskup snapped. “Such fustian, indeed! With a son who is twenty-five years old, you would have been a mother at the age of four. If you spread this nonsense about, you’ll be the laughingstock of the ton!”
“Well . . . well, I . . .” she sputtered. “I had not calculated the years precisely.”
“Obviously not, you widgeon. If you wish to take society into your confidence and inform them that you are forty-four years old, do so by all means. But if you do not wish to advertise your true age, be silent.”
Lady Englewood opened her mouth to speak and then shut it without saying a word.
“Now, may I offer you some refreshment?” Lady Biskup said briskly. “Did you pay us a call in order to invite us to the theater tonight?”
“Well, I—”
“It is my fondest hope that you will accompany us,” Jeanette cut in quickly. “I have spoken to Sophie on this matter.”
“
If
. . .” Lady Englewood interjected, “they possess gowns which will not put us to the blush.”
Lady Biskup snorted. “Rest assured that we shall be soberly but properly attired.”
“
Because
,” Lady Englewood went on, wagging her eyebrows and giving the entire party a speaking look, “Fairmont and the dowager countess will make up two of our number, and I should not wish them to turn away from us because of our shabby relations. The countess was Melissa Everard—”
“I know her well,” Lady Biskup interrupted.
“Yes,” Lady Englewood went on, unfazed. “It is to be hoped that we may soon be able to call her sister”—she turned to scowl at her daughter—“if this goosish girl will only make up her mind to accept the most flattering offer of the season. Why she continues to hang back is more than I can comprehend. She is so fortunate as to have received an offer from an earl who is not only one of the richest men in the land but is a member of one of the oldest families. Besides which he is besotted with her. He is even kind and considerate and generous. What more can any girl wish for, pray?”
“She can wish for some time to attend balls and parties and the theater,” Sophie suggested.
Lady Englewood turned to scowl at her, as though a piece of the furniture had suddenly found its tongue. “Indeed?”
Lady Biskup cleared her throat. “Then it is decided, Blanche. If we dress ourselves properly, we are to accompany you to the theater. Perhaps you would care to dine with us. Jonathan Gray will escort us, if he is not otherwise occupied, thus making us three in number.”
Lady Englewood threw up both hands. “Jonathan Gray! Do not tell me that dreadful young man is in town!”
“Yes, he is in town,” Lady Biskup confirmed. “And he is not a dreadful young man. He is the most charming, kindest, most capable—”
“But he is poor,” Lady Englewood broke in. “Without any doubt there will be certain weak-minded young ladies who will fall in love with him and destroy other hopes. And if they should be so unfortunate as to marry him, they’ll be condemned to a life of poverty and suffering.”
She turned then to give her daughter a penetrating look.
“Mama!” Jeanette said, flushing a bright pink.
“Well, indeed, there is no understanding young ladies and their choices these days,” Lady Englewood said.
To everyone’s surprise, the object of their conversation opened the door and stepped into the room. He was dressed in an olive-green coat that enhanced the darkness of his skin, giving him an exotic cast. It was strangely attractive, and Sophie was hard-pressed to tear her gaze away from him.
He came forward, smiling warmly at everyone present. “Lady Englewood,” he said, bowing over her hand. “How delightful to see you looking so young.”
Her brow wrinkled for a moment as she was torn between pleasure at his compliment and her desire to reject him. Finally her caution triumphed. She nodded coolly and turned away.
Jeanette, however, quickly held out her hand, smiling with enough warmth to make up for her mother’s rudeness. “We are all so grateful to have you home safe and unharmed,” she told him. “You have no idea how anxious we have all been during the years you’ve been away.”
“Indeed?” her mother exclaimed, straightening up and giving her daughter another penetrating look.
Jeanette withdrew her hand and stared unhappily down at the floor.
Jonathan cleared his throat. “I believe I have found the very carriage for you, Aunt Ruth. One of the new barouches—dark blue with wheels picked out in yellow. It is the latest kick of fashion.”
Lady Biskup smiled. “It sounds delightful, my dear.”
He glanced toward Lady Englewood, who was still scowling furiously at him. “Yes, uh, well,” he began. “If you will excuse me . . . Your servant, ma’am.” He bowed and quickly left the room.
The moment the door closed behind him, Lady Biskup glared at Lady Englewood. “I have never been so shocked and disgusted by anyone’s behavior. To think that you would treat a guest of mine with such coldness and arrogance, Blanche.”
“Guest!” Lady Englewood exclaimed. “Do you mean to tell me that you have taken that viper into your nest? He will be sitting in our midst like a fox among the fowls. If you think I intend to allow that penniless, plain-faced, shabby-genteel mushroom to insinuate his way into Jeanette’s heart, you are sadly off the mark, I assure you!”
“Mama!” Jeanette cried, her face flushing an even darker crimson.
Ignoring her, Lady Englewood pressed on. “As I see it, it would be a kindness to speak frankly to him. He is only the son of an impoverished soldier, and should divest himself of pretensions. You, who are fond of him, my love, should let him know that he is thinking too high if he expects to find a wife among the ton. Tell him this in a gentle way, but tell him firmly. Tell him that it would be best for him to leave London immediately and not attempt to mingle with society.”
Lady Biskup’s lips were drawn into a thin line. “Let me be certain that I understand you, Blanche. You want me to say to him, ‘Jonathan, my dearest boy, despite your unexceptionable birth, excellent character, and unbesmirched reputation—not to mention your years of self-sacrifice and the dangers to which you have subjected yourself while serving your country on the battlefield—Lady Englewood has decided that you are not grand enough to associate with—’”
Lady Englewood fluttered her hands. “No, no. I see that it cannot be done. And, in any case, there is no cause for concern, as Jeanette is pledged to Fairmont.”
“It is not decided,” Jeanette said. “I have not accepted him.”
Lady Englewood bristled. “And why you have not done so is more than I can understand. We cannot expect him to wait patiently while you dawdle and simper. He is rich, grandly connected, and delightfully tall—the perfect husband, I should say. Some other girl will certainly rush in and snap him up if you do not do so immediately.”
“And with him so tall, Jeanette dear, that would be unfortunate, indeed,” Lady Biskup said in a wry tone.
“But I do not love him,” Jeanette said.
“Love!” Lady Englewood cried. “Pray what does love have to do with the matter?” She turned to Lady Biskup. “Speak sense to her, Ruth. These young girls today have been ruined by reading rubbishy novels. Mrs. Radcliffe, indeed! Pah!”
Lady Biskup rose to her feet and gave the bell pull a yank. “Yes, yes, we all know where our duty lies. Now we shall have a bit of tea to refresh us and clear away all unpleasant thoughts. Sophie, Jeanette, you may take yourselves off into a corner for a cozy chat.”
The door opened and Leeds stepped into the room.
“We shall have some tea, please,” Lady Biskup said.
“Yes, m’lady. And with your permission, m’lady, a Mr. Albert de Lisle is waiting in the blue withdrawing room, in the hope that your ladyship will receive him.”
Lady Biskup let out a snort of indignation. “Indeed! That presumptuous puppy! How does he have the audacity . . .?”
She hesitated and glanced toward Sophie. For several seconds she sat considering her niece intently.
“I shall inform him that your ladyship is not at home,” Leeds suggested.
“No,” she said. “Perhaps it would be best to receive him. You may show him in, Leeds.”
Sophie turned away. Her heart was beating rapidly, and to her surprise she found that she was reluctant to face Albert. After the years of longing, then the shock of his denial, she was in such a state of confusion that she could not sort out her feelings. This was not the reunion she had visualized. With her two aunts and one cousin in the room, she would not be able to run to meet him and slip her hands into his. There would be no ardent embrace—no stolen kisses. In fact, she wondered how he could possibly repair the damage he had done to their relationship this morning.
Before she could steady herself, the door opened and Albert stepped into the room. She saw, to her surprise, that he was uneasy, his cheeks flushed and his gaze moving nervously from one lady to another. He bowed gracefully to each of them.
If anything, he was more handsome than he had been when he visited Vaile Priory. His hair, which was dark and curly, lay in perfect coils around his smooth temples. His eyes, a penetrating blue, looked steadily into hers before turning to Lady Biskup.
“Indeed, you are here, my dear aunt,” he murmured in his silken voice. “My friend, Peter Joshua, insisted that it was you, whom I had inadvertently abandoned, but I could not believe him. Please accept my sincerest apologies for failing to rush back immediately to make everything right; but I had remembered a pressing engagement with Lord Leach at the Home Office, which I had foolishly forgotten, and it was necessary for me to meet with him and make my apologies before I could come to you. Now I throw myself on your mercy and beg forgiveness, which I’ve no doubt you’ll bestow, as you’ve always been the kindest and most generous of relations, from the time I was a small boy—almost like a mother.”
Lady Biskup, who had sat stone-faced throughout this outpouring, her lips primmed and both fists bunched in her lap, took a long, deep breath. “And how, pray, did this Peter Joshua come to recognize me? I know of no one, old or young, by that name.”
“By the crest on your carriage,” he pointed out. “He insisted that it was Lord Reginald’s. And when I allowed myself to consider, I realized that it was indeed you, Aunt Ruth, of whom I had caught the most fleeting of glimpses. I could not believe that the young lady was Sophie, however, as she was a mere child when I saw her last. But as I put one fact together with another, I realized that Sophie must now be seventeen—soon to be eighteen years of age.” He turned to give her a smile of approval. “And I am gratified to see that she has grown into a young lady of quite remarkable beauty.”
He sobered and assumed an expression of suffering. “Alas, I was nearly to Lord Leach’s office before I had sorted out all the evidence and realized that it was most probably my beloved family that I had so thoughtlessly slighted. But you see that I have come to you at the earliest possible moment to make amends.”
A heavy silence greeted his long-winded explanation.
Albert cleared his throat and began again. “It has been the greatest source of sadness to me that I have been unable to visit you at Vaile Priory these past years. My life has been completely occupied with duty and hardship. My father has been ill; I’ve been obliged to assume his responsibilities. We have had poor harvests and much sorrow on our island. At last, I am happy to say, I have been able to ease the suffering of my people. Their lot is happier and continues to improve, for which I am deeply grateful. Now I am again able to indulge my own needs for warmth and friendship.”
He glanced from one lady to another. Lady Englewood had taken a handkerchief from her reticule and was applying it to her eyes.
“I have come to wonder,” he continued, “if I have not, perhaps, been too self-denying these past years—my mother would have guided me if she had lived. I am convinced that a man should sometimes—in the most important things—allow his heart to govern his head.”
Sophie, Jeanette, and Lady Biskup stared into space with glazed expressions, but Lady Englewood reached out a hand.
“Poor boy,” she commiserated, “your words ring so true. And a woman’s head should always be governed by her heart.”
She caught sight of Jeanette’s quizzical expression, and her eyebrows rose sharply. “No, no, that is not what I meant to say.” She twisted her handkerchief between her fingers. “One’s duty is of paramount importance. One should never allow one’s heart to cloud one’s judgment.”
Albert shook his head. “I have lived by that maxim these past four years and have found no pleasure in it, ma’am.” He turned to Lady Biskup. “But now that my friends have gathered around me again, I am confident I’ll feel a lifting of the spirit.”
He bowed. “I am planning a small dinner party tomorrow evening and would be delighted to have all of you, my dearest friends, join me.”
Lady Biskup nodded coolly. “You must excuse us, Albert. We are not settled in as yet.”
“I shall trust then that you will soon honor me with your company.”
He glanced at Sophie, his face soft and ingratiating. To her surprise, she felt a flutter of annoyance. He waited a moment, his gaze lingering on her, before he turned back to Lady Biskup.