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Authors: Linore Rose Burkard

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BOOK: The House in Grosvenor Square
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He felt a small relief. Something he had said had reached her at last. But he had as yet to learn the cause of the problem.

“Now there is a pertinent topic! Trust!” She stared at him wide-eyed.

“Go on,” he urged.

“You speak to me of trust? Is that not the pot calling the kettle black? When you have had me followed about your house like a…a common street cull!”

It was difficult to take her seriously when she looked so adorable, but at
her words Mornay closed his eyes for a second and sighed. “Ariana, you know full well I don't consider you a thief, common or otherwise.”

She was now looking at him, her face expressing the hurt she felt. “You ordered a footman to follow me and keep an eye on me. Is that trust?”

“I ordered that for your sake and even before we spoke on the matter. I know you had nothing to do with the stolen things, but I lacked proof. I merely hoped to afford you a witness, so no one else could think you guilty!”

“No one
else
?” Her face was tragical. “No one
else!
You see what I mean!” She crossed her arms more firmly about her and removed her gaze from him to the door. She shifted to playing with her fan.

“You are determined to misunderstand me.”

“How is that?”

“What I meant by no one
else
was that none of the other
servants
would think you guilty. Fotch and Frederick, both of whom had seen you in the dressing room, were afraid the ink must have been your doing. I suppose I may have given the impression that I distrusted you, but in fact it was to show the staff that you are up to no mischief. If something else had gone missing or been marred during your visit to the house, I didn't want a shadow of doubt regarding your innocence. Gossip among servants has a way of being magnified. I was merely trying to keep peace.”

The carriage reached the mansion, and a footman lowered the steps. Mr. Mornay exited first to hand her down. Ariana had the feeling of living a fairy tale again, as when he had escorted her to Carlton House earlier in the season. Here she was, like a princess, taking the arm of the handsome prince before they together entered the aristocratic abode. One glance at the bystanders sealed the impression of great privilege she was enjoying. Wide-eyed, curious, or even jeering, their looks of admiration or envy made her more conscious of the high life she was beginning to take for granted. But she had other things on her mind just now.

She was relieved that Phillip apparently hadn't mistrusted her, but she still wondered about it. Had he really believed, when ordering that footman to watch her, that it was only for her sake? Was this misunderstanding the start of what would become a pattern of differences, of tiffs in their relationship? Looking at him now, while he held out his arm to her, she wanted nothing more but to fall against him, to snuggle into him, a warm pillar of strength. All she could do was give him an apologetic look and hold firmly to his arm.

For the rest of the night, she had to be her usual self, smile brightly, chat, and banter. After the couple was announced, they entered the huge, high ceilinged gallery. Ariana nodded and smiled as though nothing was amiss. But her heart was not at rest. She was realizing that anything involving Phillip tore right at the deepest part of her. If they weren't happy with each other, she could not be happy at all. If he was upset, she would be also. If he distrusted her, she could not be content.

It was disturbing. Her better judgment, which told her that of course he loved and trusted her, had no power to fight her heart when it concerned him. How could one be so foolish as to ignore what they must believe to be true? When the false light of a situation might cast it in doubt, how could she doubt his affections? She was sensing a chink in the armour of their love. A vulnerable place where her faith and trust—in Phillip and by extension God, for He had given him to her—wavered all too easily.

And then Ariana spotted Princess Charlotte, and all her dark ruminations fled. She found it difficult to take her eyes off the princess. Surrounded by people, smiling and shaking hands, the royal young woman looked eminently comfortable in her role. Ariana had never been in the same room as the princess before and had to struggle afresh with feeling like an out-of-place country miss. She had been getting inured to such gatherings, but this was different. Not only did she hope for an acquaintance with the famous royal, but she felt sure that, if ever she was able to begin a society to aid the poor, Her Royal Highness could be a staunch supporter.

The Princess was a tall and sturdy young woman, not stout but of a large bone structure, proud shoulders, and a large bosom, which the empire fashion suited admirably. Her hair was tastefully done up in a braided knot that could just be seen above a sparkling tiara. She had friendly, large brown eyes, was known to be smart, compassionate, strong-natured but well-mannered, and rather notoriously, treated shabbily at times by her father. Mr. Mornay noticed the direction of Ariana's eyes but said, “We must wait for her to request an introduction.”

“Have you met her?”

“Properly introduced only once. I have been at gatherings where she was present as tonight, but knowing that I am a friend of her father's has not endeared me to her, I'm afraid.” He spoke with that little hint of a smile, telling Ariana that he was not the least bit flummoxed by the princess's lack of approval.

Neither Ariana nor Mr. Mornay noticed that while they were talking,
the very person they spoke of had taken note of them and was even now walking toward them. Lady Merrilton was with her, and suddenly Ariana was in the presence of the princess.

Keeping her eyes on the marchioness's, Ariana listened with a rapidly beating heart as Lady Merrilton said, “May I have the honour, Your Royal Highness, of presenting Mr. Mornay's fiancée to you?” Her words were merely a formality, as everyone already understood that the princess had requested the introduction.

The princess duly replied, “Please do.”

“Miss Ariana Forsythe, ma'am, originally from Gloucestershire, I believe.”

Ariana curtseyed slower and more deeply than usual, as was proper when greeting a royal, and looked up to see the friendly face of the princess.

“Miss Forsythe, I confess I have been eager to meet you. How do you do?”

“Very well, Your Royal Highness, thank you.”

The princess turned toward Phillip. “Mr. Mornay, good evening.”

Following a polite bow, he answered, “Your Royal Highness.”

She looked back at Ariana. “I understand that you are to be thanked for arranging tonight's dramatic reading?”

“No, ma'am. Lady Merrilton arranged it.”

“What Her Royal Highness means, my dear,” the marchioness inclined her head to Ariana and explained, “is that we have you to thank for bringing Mrs. Tiernan to our attention.”

“It may be that what I considered an admirable performance, in a chapel on a Sunday, may not be as well received here, Your Royal Highness. I pray you will still wish to thank me afterward.”

The princess smiled. “I assure you I am fully prepared to be edified this evening.” She looked at Phillip. “May I borrow your fiancée? I should like to be better acquainted with her.” She slipped her arm inside Ariana's and led her in a walk about the room. In a confidential manner, the princess said, “I am very curious about you, Miss Forsythe. I have followed your romance with Mr. Mornay, you must know, with a mixture of admiration and curiosity. I am told of your great sense of religion, and yet knowing Mr. Mornay, I could not but be surprised that you would accept his offer. His consequence is great, is it not? I do hope you shan't take offense at my saying so, but we all know he is part of my father's set, and so I am certain I cannot say anything you have not heard before.”

Ariana was smiling gently at the princess while she spoke, a little shocked at how directly she had broached the subject of Phillip's character. But then was not Princess Charlotte known for her forthright manner? There was no deceit in her. She spoke her mind and yet not in an unbecoming or disagreeable manner. And so Ariana replied, “I have indeed heard much on that theme, I assure you.”

The princess smiled. “Then you must forgive my returning to it, but I must know your thoughts. I believe you are mindful of religion and matters of faith, are you not?”

“Yes, ma'am, I hope so.”

The princess looked around. “More so than most in this room.”

Ariana said nothing. Her Royal Highness studied her thoughtfully for a moment.

“I have been given to understand that Mr. Mornay is a changed man due to your influence.”


My
influence? I could never take credit for anyone moving toward God, Your Royal Highness. It is entirely
His
doing, you must know.”

“Mr. Mornay's?”

“No, ma'am. God's. I believe that no matter which route we use to come to the orthodox faith, it is God Himself who draws us along—until we find Him. Haply He has drawn Mr. Mornay, and I am most grateful.” She looked over at him as she spoke, the gratitude she spoke of evident on her shining features.

“And is it true he accompanies you to church services? And that he himself recommended Mrs. Tiernan?”

“Yes, both are true. I believe that Mr. Mornay has discovered…” She hesitated, choosing her words. “That all men need God, and that he is no exception. I believe men come to these discoveries by God's grace—and only by grace.”

The princess paused, then touched Ariana's arm and leaned toward her to say, “My dear Miss Forsythe, I am so glad to find you in such a company and at such a time as this!” With a look back at Mr. Mornay, she added, “And to think that Mornay has won you! I am certain you can only be exceedingly good for him.” Settling her eyes back on Ariana, she added, “And for all who know you.”

“Your Royal Highness is too kind!”

“Not at all. You must call upon me sometime, Miss Forsythe. I will send a card to your home.”

Ariana curtseyed at this kindness. “Thank you, ma'am. I should enjoy that above all things!”

The princess then turned away, giving her attention to others who were waiting for her. Ariana made her way back to Mr. Mornay, who came forward to greet her and offer his arm.

Before she could tell him about her meeting with the princess, a flurry of excitement revealed that the Regent had now arrived. He entered the gallery, striding proudly and accompanied by two of his gentlemen. He slowed his pace to nod at the bowing subjects opening the way before him.

Ariana noticed the Lord Mayor of the city as he bowed, with his large medallion hanging about his neck and his wife beside him in a many-feathered headdress. Dukes, duchesses, marquesses and marchionesses, lords and ladies of all ranks gave due respect to the prince with formal correctness. The Regent was dressed in a sober dark twin-tailed frock coat, a top hat, and dark pantaloons. He stopped by various lords or ladies from time to time and addressed them as he wished. When he came upon Ariana and Mr. Mornay, he grinned at Phillip. Then recognizing Ariana, he stopped and smiled. Ariana held her curtsey for a proper amount of time.

“Have you tied the knot yet?”

“There are eight days until the wedding,” Mornay answered.

“Ah, but we're not counting, are we?” He chuckled, and others joined him. He then turned to Ariana. “Delighted, Miss Forsythe.”

“Your Royal Highness.” She curtseyed again, and he moved on.

It took a long time for everyone to be seated for the drama. Ariana was anxious for the performance to start or rather to see how the audience would receive it. They sat through a short concert first, which she would have enjoyed more if she did not have a nagging concern over Mrs. Tiernan's performance. Finally the musicians let their instruments rest. Most of the candles in the room were snuffed. Only the footmen, who circled the edges of the room at intervals, held softly glowing tapers in a statue-like trance.

Mrs. Tiernan climbed upon a makeshift stage. She wore a white dress, making her appear luminous in the dark. A single lampstand near her gave off just enough light so everyone could see her facial expressions—very important to the overall effect. The Regent, sitting only two rows ahead of
Ariana and Phillip, turned his head, and Ariana could see, as he murmured something to a companion, that he was smiling.

The lady on the platform began to search the faces of her audience. It was dark, but she acted as if she could see and took every bit as long as she had done at the chapel. Ariana felt herself squirming. Did the woman not realize that one did not stare at the Regent? Or the princess?

“What the
devil
is she looking at?” someone said sharply.

Mrs. Tiernan maintained that look of distance in her eyes, and finally, taking a deep breath, began with the announcement that her words came from the book of Revelation, chapter twenty-two.

There was a great silence from the audience, and the actual reading began. Ariana did not feel the same thrill as she had on that Sunday morning at the London Orphan Society. The Word of God was being read with great feeling, as then, but somehow she could not enjoy it. It felt all wrong in this irreverent company. Was she hearing murmurs from the audience already? She tried to focus on the lady's words.

BOOK: The House in Grosvenor Square
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