A Grand Deception (7 page)

"You have mastered a number of musical instruments,
although I cannot vouch for your voice, since I have never
heard you sing."

"And you never will," she maintained.

"If I correctly recall, you cannot paint, draw, or create a
passable rendition of needlework. So His Grace's words
must be falling upon deaf ears. A Latin tutor, eh?" Sir Samuel took his time to consider her words. "How have you
come to learn of this tutor?"

It occurred to Muriel that Sir Samuel might know her a
little too well. "Honestly, Samuel, he had been recommended
to me many years ago, and I have been studying with him by
post. Now that I am in Town, I have the opportunity to meet
with him."

"I see." Sir Samuel not only sounded skeptical, but his
expression illustrated as much.

"During Augusta's house party I met Sherwin Lloyd. He
came along with his eldest brother, Lord Marsdon. Mr. Lloyd
wrote a letter of introduction to Signore Biondi on my be half." Muriel knew she had to confess everything to Sir
Samuel, else she would have no hope of obtaining his assistance.

"Sherwin Lloyd? Isn't he the new Earl of Amhurst I've
heard so much about recently?"

"Yes, the very same, I imagine." This was an area in which
she did not wish to venture.

"So now you come to London and meet the Earl again."
Sir Samuel was sounding more and more like her father or
brother than her friend. "From the time you met him last at
Faraday Hall, I'm sure he has matured from a boy to a
man."

Young scholar to an earl.

"I hardly recognized him." She hadn't at the time. Muriel
was unconcerned about the Earl in any case. They were
straying from the topic, and she urged Sir Samuel with, "We
were speaking of my lessons, if you recall."

"You've been writing to the tutor ... without your family's
knowledge," he repeated, illustrating the significance of her
actions by his own rendition of her words. And Muriel was
fairly sure he did not approve.

"You must know how important this is to me. Sherwin
knew how much my studies meant. He is the only one who
has ever encouraged me."

Sir Samuel took more time to reply than Muriel would
have expected. A simple yes or no would end her torment.
Would he or would he not help her? Why did he not answer?

She must have looked frightfully distraught.

"This may go against my better judgment, but I must
know.... " A wry smile spread over Sir Samuel's face before he replied, "So, Moo, what is it exactly you wish me to
do for you?"

Sherwin arrived at the Shropes' ball at what his mother considered fashionably late and led the way into the residence
with Lady Amhurst and Mr. Gibbons. If it were not for Lady
Amhurst's insistence that he mingle, converse, and dance,
Sherwin would have made himself much happier by standing in a quiet corner where he would not be disturbed, preferably hidden behind a potted palm or two.

"Our hostess' daughter, Miss Shrope, awaits your escort
for the next dance," Lady Amhurst informed her son. "She's
the one in the peach confection over in that small group of
gels." She nudged Sherwin in their direction.

"I see her." And with his long-sightedness, and without
his spectacles, it would be a blessing he would not truly see
her when he got two or three steps away.

He strode off, crossing the room in her direction, coming
to a stop before her, and bowing. Offering Miss Shrope his
arm for their dance, Sherwin led her to the dance floor,
hearing behind him the stifled giggles of her friends.

The dancers lined up in groups of four couples to dance
the quadrille. As Miss Shrope smiled, obviously pleased to
be partnered by Sherwin, he did his best not to appear sullen. Standing next to him, Miss Shrope appeared to him an
enormous, featureless, peachy-pink blur.

The music began, and the pairs bowed. The couples moved
forward and back, around one another with intricate steps,
switching sides of their formation. Stepping back to meet his
partner to grasp her hand, Sherwin brushed gazes with someone in the last square on the other side of the room.

Muriel.

She stood at a distance where he could clearly see her, as
she obviously saw him.

Their momentary lapse in attention caused their partners to hesitate, and together they blocked the path of the two oncoming couples in their respective squares. The dancing
came to an abrupt end as all the couples collided.

Miss Bailey-Davies shrieked, Lord Bradley wailed, and
Lady Marianne Wells cried out as all the participants fell to
the floor in quick succession, resembling a line of dominos
tipping from one end of the room to the other.

Muriel could not help but watch all the dancers go down. It
hadn't been her fault, had it? She could not take the entire
blame upon herself. Sherwin, the Earl of Amhurst, would
need to at least take half. He had been the one to catch her
eye, which had caused her to pause in the midst of the dance,
which might have caused the dancers to collide. And the oaf
of an earl had stood immobile, just as she had.

She was glad she hadn't fallen. To be sure, there were
nearly a dozen people on the smooth, hard floor. That should
have been embarrassing enough, but what she thought worse,
or so it seemed, was that she and Sherwin were the only two
remaining on their feet. It was quite appalling, really. The
two of them remained as if they were the last two pieces on a
chessboard.

Which would have made him the king, the victor, and
she the queen of the losing opponent. Muriel did not like it,
and losing was definitely not a concept that appealed to her.

Following the massive mishap, there were shouts and
screams from both the dancers and the observers who filled
the ballroom in the moments that followed the cataclysmic
tumble. The subsequent attention that focused upon the two
remaining upright persons was, blessedly, quickly forgotten,
and aid from all quarters rushed to those unfortunate individuals on the floor. Bandages and cold compresses replaced the guests' need for their usual refreshments of punch and
biscuits.

Susan Wilbanks' familiar voice, protesting the bump of
another dancer that had sent them both to the floor while
knocking into other participants, caught Muriel's attention.

"Sukey!" Muriel cried out, seeing her dear friend prostrate next to her partner, Mr. Stanley, who had, upon his fall,
expostulated, "The devil!"

Muriel set out at once, stepping over Mr. Ambrose, with
whom she had partnered. She carefully moved among the
injured-if they were not bodily hurt, then perhaps their
status as dancing proficients had been wounded-and made
her way to her friend's side.

"Oh, Sukey, give me your hand." Muriel reached down to
help her stand.

"I beg your pardon, Lady Muriel. I should have the duty
of helping Miss Wilbanks to her feet," Mr. Stanley, who
had only managed to sit up, replied.

"It might be best if you were standing on your own feet before you offered to help someone else to get to theirs." Nonetheless, Muriel dutifully released Susan's hand for a moment,
though she was anxious to lead her friend out of the way,
to somewhere safe from the elbows and knees of the guests
who were making their way upright. "Are you hurt?" she
asked Sukey.

"I'm quite unharmed-no need to worry, Lady Muriel."
Mr. Ambrose arrived at Muriel's elbow, brushing at the
sleeves of his jacket.

"I am so gratified to hear that, sir. If you would please be
so good as to step aside." Muriel moved in front of him,
leaning down once again to help Susan to her feet.

"Ouch!" Susan pulled her hand from Muriel's. "My arm.
Oh, it hurts! I must have fallen on it."

"It's not broken, is it?"

"I don't think so" Susan slid her glove toward her wrist
to check where she was experiencing the pain.

"Allow me to examine your arm, if you please." Mr. Stanley took hold of Susan's hand, assuming control over her
well-being.

"Yes, Stanley's the very man for it." Mr. Ambrose drew
Muriel gently back by her shoulders.

"Mr. Stanley knows about broken bones," Susan told Muriel in earnest. "One of his mares broke her leg."

"You are not a horse." Muriel could not tolerate this comparison and scolded softly, "Do not allow him to speak of
you in that manner."

"But I do like horses excessively," Susan returned.

"One lovely female is much the same as another, I collect." Mr. Stanley extended her arm in front of her. "Does
that cause any pain?"

"N-no, it doesn't." Susan spoke hesitantly, as if expecting
to feel discomfort at any moment.

"There, there, steel yourself, young lady." Mr. Stanley
prodded her arm gently, starting from her wrist and working
to her shoulder.

Susan winced when he touched an area just above her
elbow.

"I do beg your pardon." He drew his hand immediately
away. "Now, if you will remain still, I need to
ascertain.. Returning to her arm, Mr. Stanley progressed more slowly
around the affected area. "Even though there is no discoloration at present, I believe there is a bit of bruising. There
may yet be discoloring in the coming days, but I discern no
breakage"

Susan glanced at Muriel upon hearing the encouraging
news.

Mr. Stanley completed his examination and announced,
"I am pleased to inform you that your arm is decidedly not
broken. You are in far better health than my mare, Persephone" He smiled at Susan and winked. "And exceedingly
prettier."

Susan blushed, sighed, then gazed up at Mr. Stanley and
said, "I do believe that is the nicest thing any gentleman has
ever said to me."

It was past one in the afternoon the following day before Muriel descended the staircase. She continued to the breakfast
room where Aunt Penny, Mrs. Wilbanks, and Susan sat.

"You can't have slept all this time, can you?" Mrs. Wilbanks gazed into Muriel's face, as only a mother-not hers,
but Susan's-could. "Your beautiful green eyes still look as
if you could do with a few more hours' rest."

"Let me see." Aunt Penny pushed herself up from the table
and moved to the entrance to have a look at Muriel.

"How is your arm this morning, my dear?" Mrs. Wilbanks asked her daughter. "You fell rather hard last night.
Might there be a bruise?"

"If there is, I cannot see it." Susan rubbed the affected
area. "It does not bother me a bit, Mama. It certainly is a
shame that the only time I really had a good look at the new
earl was when he stood alone with Muriel after all the other
dancers collapsed around him. I must say, the vantage point
from the floor was excellent."

Aunt Penny slid her hand under Muriel's chin to tilt her
head in order to examine her face. "Your eyes are red, and
you do look fatigued."

Muriel blinked. Eye fatigue was a small sacrifice compared to what she'd have to endure the remainder of the day.

"We are fortunate we have no commitments this evening.
You may be excused early, since we remain at home for only
a family dinner." Aunt Penny drew a chair out for Muriel. "I
shall fetch you something to eat. Do you realize we've been
out every night for nearly a fortnight?"

"La, Aunt Penny, it will be a relief to stay at home to rest,"
Muriel affected in a cool tone, lowering herself into the
proffered chair.

"There are this afternoon's activities. Lord Peter is to
take you for a drive at three, is he not? Mr. Ambrose is most
put out that you cannot accompany him."

"He has accompanied Moo many times-he has no
cause to complain," Susan, who sat next to her mother, replied.

"Shall I resort to strolling around our back terrace with
each gentleman as our dear Char-Char did two years ago?"
Muriel took this time to glance down at her clasped hands
folded in her lap and blink up through her lashes, which is
what her dear sister Charlotte would have done.

"It may come to that, I fear." Aunt Penny set a plate of
toast and eggs before Muriel.

"I cannot claim to have nearly the number of suitors CharChar did." She leaned against the back of the chair. "And
what problems that caused!"

"Mr. Ambrose has no claim on you; he must wait for another day," Aunt Penny decreed. "I think it would not take
much to bring him up to scratch. Although Lord Peter may
be on the verge of making an offer."

This was not what Muriel wanted to hear. She had no
intention of listening to a proposal from Lord Peter or Mr.
Ambrose. Her recent decision to move her attention from
both gentlemen was proving to be a sound one.

Muriel would insist this afternoon's outing be her last
with Lord Peter.

Sherwin had a quick bite to eat before being rushed back to
his bedchamber to dress for that morning's round of calls.
His mother expected he would take Miss or Lady Whoever
for a pleasant drive. He wasn't feeling very pleasant, and he
didn't expect he'd be fit company for anyone.

"I wasn't the only one who noticed you were one of the
few who did not fall during the quadrille catastrophe. Did
you have anything to do with that tragedy last night?" Lady
Amhurst hadn't been pleased with the mishap on the dance
floor and had groused about it all the way home. She was
complaining still. "Pray, tell me no."