A Grand Deception (5 page)

Pulling her wrapper tightly around her, Muriel parted the
drapes only enough to allow sufficient illumination for her to
read and write upon the small table situated near the window.
In the time it took to take her pencil in hand and apply it to
paper, Muriel's thoughts ran past the scene she had shared
with Sherwin Lloyd the night before. She groaned inwardly,
scolding herself for drifting off to contemplate what had happened, what should have happened, and what might have
happened.

But what a waste of time to think of such things now.

Muriel needed to devise a way to increase the number of
her lessons. It seemed unfair that she should spend so much
time attending parties and tolerating the attentions of young
men and so little time in the classroom.

She would, in time, find a way. The means by which this
was to be done hadn't presented itself as of yet. Muriel bent
her head to her paper, eager to complete her studies before
returning to bed and "waking," the second time, for the day
ahead.

Since Sherwin had left Almack's early the evening before,
he was fortunate, for once, to have gotten a full night's sleep.
He sat at the breakfast table holding History of Rome by
Titus Livius in one hand and in the other a fork with a bit of
gammon and egg from the plate before him.

"I'll have your spectacles now, if you please. It'll soon be
time to depart for our morning calls." Lady Amhurst waited
for her son to relinquish his most prized possession. "I had
not realized you knew the Duke of Faraday's daughter."

"I made her acquaintance some years ago when I accompanied James to Faraday Hall." Sherwin lowered the book
to the table and returned the fork, with a bite-sized piece of
gammon, to his plate.

"Oh, yes. I do recall that summer. He traveled from Town
to Essex after the Season had ended." Lady Amhurst stilled
and gazed off somewhere past Sherwin. "James married
that fall."

Sherwin had gone back to Eton and missed his brother's
wedding. Gingerly, carefully, he removed his spectacles, prying each earpiece from either side of his head, folding the
ends, and offered them to his mother.

Lady Amhurst took possession of his glasses. "You and Lady Muriel appeared ... familiar, and not entirely pleased
to meet the other." His mother was watching him now. "What,
exactly, transpired between the two of you?"

"Nothing of importance." He shrugged. "Just some childish larking about. You must remember I had only just turned
thirteen when we met-still just a lad." Sherwin was determined to keep the truth from his mother. He knew she would
not have approved of his correspondence with Muriel no
matter his age.

He pushed around the now-blurry bits of egg and gammon on his plate with his fork. Without his glasses he couldn't
see much past the end of his nose clearly. It was his mother's
idea that he not wear his spectacles in public. She claimed it
would make him appear bookish, and no young lady would
find that an admirable quality. Sherwin had reluctantly
agreed with his mother. He'd agree to almost anything if it
meant he could return to his studies.

"I thought her manners were appalling." As always, Lady
Amhurst's complaint seemed excessive to his ears. "I'd expect better from the daughter of a duke."

He did not wish to give a name to the unpleasant emotion
welling up inside him. No person should harbor such a feeling for another, much less a family member.

"You shall have these again after this afternoon's drive in
the Park with Miss Holbrook." With a swish of her black
bombazine skirts, Lady Amhurst looked the part of the harbinger of sorrow as well.

"Miss Holbrook," Sherwin repeated, doing his best to commit the name to memory. He would follow all the instructions from his mother to engage the young lady's affections.

"Pay attention, Sherwin, will you?" Lady Amhurst paced
along the length of the breakfast room table as she spoke. "I have taken the liberty of sending Miss Holbrook white orchids in your name, if she should mention it."

"White orchids . . . ," Sherwin murmured to himself. His
mother knew exactly what to do, and he allowed her to do
what she thought was best. He had no interest in courting,
much less marrying, anyone. It was best his mother did
what was necessary.

"We shall pay a call upon Miss Ortone, Lady Sophie,
and Miss Shrope this morning before calling on the Holbrooks, when the two of you will depart for Hyde Park"

Did he need to remember the destination of Hyde Park as
well? It was not as if he needed to guide them there. His
mother had employed a driver for their carriage to take them
wherever they needed to go.

"Don't fret, I'll remind you before our arrival." Lady Amhurst waved her hand as if to tell him to disregard the information altogether. "Now remember, you must compliment
Miss Holbrook on her toilette."

Did that mean her hair? Her dress? It was difficult for
Sherwin to distinguish much beyond color and general shape,
without his spectacles.

"Above all, Sherwin, you must compliment her." Lady
Amhurst gestured with his folded wire-rimmed spectacles.

"Yes, Mother." He could certainly do that, and if he did
not know what he meant, surely Miss Holbrook would.

"And you should engage her in conversation," his mother
continued. "Ask her about herself."

Sherwin highly doubted Miss Holbrook would wish to
converse on any topic he found interesting.

"A gel likes to know that a gentleman notices and appreciates the effort she's taken to look her best. It is hours of
preparation in front of the glass." Lady Amhurst patted her
hair with one hand, then smoothed her skirts as if to illus trate. "We're to attend the Shropes' ball tonight in honor of
their daughter."

Sherwin's thoughts drifted to later that afternoon, when
he would regain the possession of his spectacles. He could
finish the page he'd been reading this morning, if not the
entire chapter. Perhaps make it through half the book.

He would broach the topic of allowing him use of the carriage with his mother. There were a few out-of-the-way sights
of interest he'd like to visit while in London. His mother
might deny him again, but he felt fairly certain she would,
in time, grant him his request in order to gain his further cooperation.

"It may take some time, but we shall find one young lady
we can mutually decide upon," Lady Amhurst concluded.
"To be sure, you shall have a great many to select from. Oh,
yes. Do you not know what they call you? The catch of the
Season"

Sherwin pulled his gaze from his mother and directed it
out the window. Nothing she said would make him care
when it came to the choice of his bride.

It was nearly two o'clock in the afternoon before Muriel
descended the staircase to the marbled foyer. She had spent
several hours preparing for the day, choosing just the right
carriage dress and having her hair styled.

"Look at all those lovely flowers!" she exclaimed now, to
make it look as if their arrival mattered a great deal to her.

"Place them on the table, if you will," Aunt Penny instructed the footman who carried one small and two fairly
large vases of flowers. "We can place them among the others after we've finished our breakfast."

Muriel had to make an enthusiastic show for Aunt Penny's
benefit to maintain the illusion that what she wanted, more than anything in the world, was to attend the Season's festivities.

"Sukey, come quickly!" Muriel called up the staircase.
"You must see these lovely flowers!"

Susan descended the stairs in haste.

"Are they not beautiful?" Mrs. Wilbanks followed her
daughter to the main floor.

"You must help me find Mr. Ambrose's tribute!" Muriel
ran around to the far end of the room, making a fuss over
finding his flowers. He was the latest young man whom she
pretended to favor. There had to be someone, or two or three,
for her to feign a slight affection for, else her family might
begin to suspect her true agenda of studying Latin and the
Classics.

"It seems you are especially taken with that young man,"
Aunt Penny replied in a knowing manner. She browsed the
cards in search of Mr. Ambrose's name.

And that was exactly what Muriel wished her aunt to
believe.

"I'm sure they are all for you, in any case." Susan inspected a bunch of violets tied with a white ribbon.

"What a shame that these other gentlemen haven't got a
chance of catching your attention." Mrs. Wilbanks joined in
the search. "Mr. Ambrose, is it? I thought it was Lord Peter
you favored"

"The rest of those gentlemen are all wasting their time,"
Susan announced. "If only some of them would look my
way.11

"I'm sure there are more than a few of these posies that
belong to you!" Muriel scolded her friend. "Were you not at
the Reading rout last night?"

"Well, yes, I was." Susan stilled and stared at Muriel,
answering honestly.

"And did you not dance there?" Muriel continued. How
could her friend not see herself for the kind, pretty, and
most agreeable young lady she was?

"Yes, I did," Susan admitted.

"Were the gentlemen not attentive to you?" Muriel
couldn't imagine any male not taking notice of her best
friend.

"Why, yes, they were." The color of Susan's cheeks reddened into a deep blush.

"Then there is no reason why any of these could not be
for you" Muriel nodded, indicating the collection of pale
pink rosebuds. "You see, Sukey? There is no reason to
think such lowering thoughts."

"Thank you, dear Muriel. I am glad you can see the right
of it." Mrs. Wilbanks wrapped her arm around Muriel in
appreciation. "Sukey cannot see how any young man would
be interested in her, not while you are around."

"That is nonsense!" Aunt Penny agreed, and she directed
her following comments to Susan. "You cannot think yourself in any way unworthy. Your kindness and manners are
only second to your grace and beauty."

"You see there, Sukey? I am right!" Muriel chuckled at her
friend's foolishness. "Now, let us see who has honored you
by sending these nice tokens of their affection."

Susan and Muriel searched through the arrangements,
identifying the recipient and the senders. Mr. Laurens, Lord
Paulson, and Mr. Templeton were found to be a few of
Susan's admirers.

"You will let us know if there is someone of particular
interest, won't you?" Mrs. Wilbanks leaned between the two
young ladies and whispered confidentially.

"Of course, Mother," Susan replied in a guarded manner.
"I would never keep such information from you."

"Here they are!" Muriel fawned over the tulips in a tall
vase. "Oh, he has outdone himself."

"Do not forget, you and Muriel are to drive in the Park
with Mr. Ambrose and Mr. Stanley this afternoon," Aunt
Penny reminded them.

"Yes, Mrs. Parker." Susan turned to Muriel to whisper, "I
am sure I would not be going if Mr. Ambrose was not in
need of a friend for Mr. Stanley."

"Don't be silly, Sukey. Mr. Stanley was quite entranced
with you. Could you not tell by the way he watched you that
night we met him?" Muriel did not need to pretend on Susan's behalf and merely spoke the truth. "He was rather
smitten with the sound of your laughter, if I recall."

"Yes, he was." Susan smiled. "At least that's what he told
me."

"Come along, Mrs. Wilbanks, I believe our coffee will
grow cold if we dally any longer." Aunt Penny smiled at the
young girls and urged Susan's mother down the corridor to
the breakfast room.

Muriel beamed a smile so convincing, she nearly thought
it genuine and held it until her aunt had well-departed.

Susan turned to address Muriel. "How long do you think
you can keep imitating Charlotte?"

"As long as I need." Muriel felt quite satisfied, and the
expression on her face must have told as much. "I am rather
good at it, if I do say so myself."

"I hate to agree with you, but you do quite a good imitation. I do not understand how Mrs. Parker can believe your
playacting, however."

"It is because I am very good at it. Now, the gentlemen
will soon arrive, and we must be ready." Muriel stepped
away from the flowers. "Let us retrieve our bonnets. I'd hate Mr. Ambrose to think I did not spend hours agonizing over
which he preferred."

"Do you really think he's concerned over that?"

"I believe he is at least as concerned as I am." Muriel opted
for the simple straw hat with a riband matching her jonquil
dress. "Isn't that always what a proper gentleman's first compliment is to a lady?"

"What a delightful bonnet!" Sherwin handed Miss Holbrook up into the barouche and did his best to appear impressed. It was as close as he could manage to his mother's
instructions. "It is quite fetching, indeed."

Lady Amhurst had remained with Miss Holbrook's mother
at their residence, and the driver departed with his passengers, the young miss and Sherwin, for Hyde Park.

"Do you really like my bonnet?" Miss Holbrook turned her
head to and fro, allowing Sherwin to enjoy an unobstructed
view of her headdress. "It is quite fetching, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is very ... original." He studied the ornamentation through his quizzing glass and could honestly say he'd
never seen wheat stalks and ribbon used as bonnet trimming before.

The stalks, complete with whole grains, wrapped around
the crown, across the wide brim. She might have thought it
was a stylish design, but Sherwin had the distinct notion
that harvesting might be in order.

"I quite enjoy remaking my headdresses," she began her
discourse. What followed were various methods and materials one could employ.

As exhilarating as Miss Holbrook's dialogue had been
upon the subject of hats, Sherwin had shifted in his seat until he nearly faced completely away from his companion. His attention had drifted toward the oncoming traffic. Although he sat some distance away, the occupants in the approaching carriage caught his attention.