Cross the Ocean (6 page)

“And shallow,” Melinda added.

“Thick-headed,” Elizabeth said.

“Tea will be served in the music room,” Briggs announced.

Everyone rose quietly and left except William. “You kissed her, sir,” he said to his father.

Blake flashed him a furious stare.

The boy’s cheeks reddened and he shrugged. “She can’t be that ugly.”

Blake found his guests in the music room listening to Melinda play the pianoforte. “Miss Finch. May I beg a moment of your time?” he asked as he touched her elbow.

The two of them retreated out of hearing distance from the rest.

“Yes?” Miss Finch clipped and folded her hands at her waist.

“I find I do owe you an apology,” Blake began.

“And every other woman in the room as well,” she replied.

“I am not concerned with every other female in the room.” Blake stood tall. “I have many faults but hurting a guest’s feelings can not be one of them.”

“I agree with you there,” Miss Finch said and clapped politely.

“Agree with what?” he asked.

“You have many faults. The least of which are poor manners,” Miss Finch said.

“Yes, well, in any case, I apologize for what I said.” Blake looked away ashamed. “I was wrong. You are really quite attractive.”

Gertrude Finch put her hands on her hips and her voice rose with each word. “I could care less what you think of me.”

“Now, now, no need to call attention our way,” Blake said and glanced at the assembly listening to Melinda. “No need to be defensive either. I am aware of the tender sensibilities women associate with how attractive they are. My own mother made us all kiss and coo over Aunt Ethel and she had whiskers longer than….”

“Listen to me, Sanders. I meant what I said. I couldn’t care less whether you think I’m attractive or not.

You dismiss ideas and brains for the lack of a pretty face. I think you’re a pompous idiot. What do you think of them apples, your highness,” she said.

Blake held his hands behind his back and a muscle twitched below his eye. “Miss Finch, the title ‘your highness’ is reserved for the royal family. You Americans bandy about titles as if a one of you could trace a history further back than the last mule you shoed.”

“Lineage is over-rated, sir. You are a prime example,” she said.

Blake calmed himself. “Miss Finch. I am trying to apologize to you. Isn’t graciousness and a bit of tact called for in these cases?”

“So not only am I ugly and stupid but lacking in grace as well. Why did you kiss me considering all this?”

“Maybe it was the only way I could think of to get you to shut that flapping mouth of yours,” Blake exploded.

Miss Finch narrowed her eyes and leaned forward to whisper. “Save your kisses for Helena and leave your dinner guests alone.” She turned away. “Sir Anthony, I’m tired would you take us home now?”

Elizabeth rose. “I’m exhausted as well. Call for the carriage, Anthony.”

Blake stood near the door where Miss Finch had left him. Elizabeth filed past with a nod and the American did not look at him. Anthony thanked him for the entertaining evening. William and Melinda slipped past quietly.

Blake plopped down; spread-eagled and slouched in front of the fire. Servants cleared the room of dishes and Briggs placed a decanter and one glass on the table beside him.

“I’m assuming that’s for me?” Blake asked and nodded to the liquor.

The stoic servant explained. “Yes, it is, Your Grace. Will there be anything else?”

Blake shook his head and stared at the fire. The American knew of Helena. To her credit she did not shout his mistresses’ name in front of Melinda and William. Blake had shouted. And cursed. Insulted a guest and generally behaved like an idiot. His behavior was certainly not ducal. Anything but. Where had his breeding gone? The expectations long set for him and his son in the future as well. Blake stood to pace. To his confusion, he must admit he had nearly enjoyed sparring with Gertrude Finch. Parrying words like honed steel, hunting for weakness to impale his prey. Blake’s left arm curled up above his head. His right extended to thrust.
En Garde
! Blake’s feet skipped forward and back until he caught a glimpse of himself in a gilded mirror.

* * * *

“Good morning, Anthony,” Elizabeth said and picked up her fork. She stared at the plate and laid the utensil down.

“Are you unwell?” Anthony asked gently.

“No. Just tired with the packing and all for town,” Elizabeth replied.

Anthony’s mouth flattened. “I will not let Melinda’s come-out interfere with your health.”

“We’ve had this discussion before, Anthony. Lady Katherine will sponsor Melinda but someone has to be there to make sure she stays out of trouble. I’m fine, dear. Eat your oatmeal.”

“Melinda will have to limit herself to early evenings and few of them. That will be quite enough for you.”

Anthony picked up his coffee and smiled suddenly. “Why don’t we ask Gertrude to help you?”

Elizabeth knitted her brows. “I didn’t think you cared….”

“Help you what?” Gert asked from the door of the cozy breakfast room.

“Cousin Gertrude.” Anthony rose and pulled out a tapestry-covered chair for her. “How was your morning ride?”

“Fine. Help you what?” Gert repeated as she was seated.

“Melinda makes her come-out in town shortly. Ann could never attend, now. So her mother, Lady Katherine will sponsor her granddaughter. But she’s near sixty and will plop down beside old friends and never leave her chair,” Elizabeth said.

“Leaving lots of freedom for Melinda. Ann wrote and asked Elizabeth to attend her. Stay close, steer her away from trouble,” Anthony added. “But with Elizabeth’s condition I’m worried it will be too much.

Late evenings and early teas and dancing.”

Elizabeth leaned forward and smiled at Gert. “It would be a Godsend if you stayed and helped me.”

“I know nothing about the rules of English society. How could I help?” Gert asked.

“But I do,” Elizabeth said. “You can be my eyes and ears and feet.”

“Why can’t her mother go?” Gert asked as she began her breakfast.

“Ann is wise in this,” Elizabeth said grimly. “A young girl’s first come-out is nerve-wracking enough without gossip about her mother swirling about.”

“I told Uncle Fred I’d be home soon and anyway I’d have nothing to wear….”

“La de da. Anthony will gladly see to your wardrobe to ease my trouble. And no one should leave England without going to at least one ball,” Elizabeth begged. She turned to her husband. “Isn’t that right dear?”

Sir Anthony weighed his wife’s health and his best friend’s discomfiture against the sum needed to dress a woman for London. “Whatever she needs, my dear. It will be my pleasure,” Anthony said.

“Let me think about it,” Gert replied.

* * * *

“Hurry sir. Not a minute to tarry. I’ve fixed something for your headache,” Briggs said.

Blake wondered how the man knew of his ailments. Other matters seemed more pressing. “I want to sleep. Leave me alone.” Blake did not hear the door close and stuck one eye out from under the covers.

Briggs stood at the end of the bed; a chalky pallor covered his face. “I’ll tell Lady Katherine you’re unwell?” he asked tentatively.

“What’s she doing here?” Blake groaned.

“You asked her to come, Your Grace. I sent the note,” Briggs replied.

Blake sat up quickly and nearly lost his stomach. “Bloody hell. You’re right.” He eyed Briggs. “Since you apparently read the message, do you recall why I asked her to visit?”

“Lady Melinda’s come-out, I believe, sir.”

Blake jumped from the bed and stubbed his toe on the nightstand. He cursed and hopped about the room naked. “Hurry Briggs. Get me dressed. No time to wait for Benson.”

* * * *

“Always sleep this late, Sanders? Idleness is the devil’s playground,” Lady Katherine said sourly.

“I was in a meeting with my steward….”

Lady Katherine cut him off with her flailing hand and the toss of her head. “Don’t bother. Your man at the door nearly fainted when I arrived. He ran up the steps to the family quarters not your study.”

As usual, Lady Katherine took great enjoyment at his expense Blake thought as he seated himself.

“Thank you for coming and agreeing to sponsor Melinda since her mother will be unavailable.” Blake stretched out the last word and watched the old woman’s reaction. Minutes squeezed by under her icy stare.

“Melinda will enjoy her come-out. I want a good match for her and will not fail. This time.” Lady Katherine arched a brow.

Blake smiled thinly. “As you know Melinda is betrothed to The Earl of Wendover’s heir. But I want her to enjoy herself, as well.”

“The Wendover’s are dull ninnies. Don’t want imbeciles for my great-grandchildren. And anyway after this mess, he’ll withdraw the offer, you know,” Lady Katherine stated the bald facts.

Blake raised his eyes to her frankness. “I wondered the same. Elizabeth Burroughs will stand in for Ann and assist you.”

“I thought she was carrying?” Lady Katherine asked.

“She is. But Elizabeth adores Melinda and insisted on helping even after her condition was announced,”

Blake said.

Lady Katherine chuckled and her eyes twinkled. “Now there’s a husband. Anthony Burroughs. Almost makes me wish I was a few years younger.”

“A few?” he asked and watched the countess’ eyes narrow.

Briggs opened the door. “Sir Anthony Burroughs has arrived, Your Grace. Shall I have him await you in the library?”

“No, no. Send him in here at once, Boscoe. I want to speak to him,” Lady Katherine said without turning her head.

Blake met Briggs’ eye and shrugged at his mother-in-law’s long-standing propensity to rename servants and relatives as she wished. Anthony strode in.

“Lady Katherine. You are the picture of health. And as beautiful as ever,” Anthony said as he bowed and kissed her hand.

Lady Katherine harrumphed but smiled. “Burroughs. No one could fault Elizabeth for picking a smooth scoundrel like you over some limp-wristed, well ... sit down, then. I hear your wife is still willing to assist in Melinda’s come-out.”

Blake crossed his legs and shook his head. His mother-in-law never failed to remind him of her opinions regarding him. She had always thought him a dandy pandering to court and society. Lady Katherine did what she pleased regardless of censure and still somehow was exulted by the ton. He, on the other hand, had spent his life being a model for dukedom and now found himself, more often than not, the butt of a joke. Blake turned back to the conversation at hand.

“And who is this woman? An American, you say?” Lady Katherine asked.

“Elizabeth’s cousin on her father’s side. A spinster escorting a niece to her family. Melinda adores her.

And I will feel better knowing my wife, in her condition, will not be unduly taxed,” Anthony said.

Tony would not look at him. “What are you talking about?” Blake asked.

Anthony smiled broadly. “Elizabeth and I have asked Gertrude to assist in Melinda’s come-out.”

Blake stood and waved his arms. “No. Absolutely not.”

Lady Katherine looked at him. “What’s the matter with her, Sanders? And why are you dancing around like some dolt. Sit down.”

Blake seated himself. “She’s entirely inappropriate. She knows nothing of English society.”

“Elizabeth and Lady Katherine will be there. Gertrude can do the following and watching and they can do the rest. It’s a perfect solution,” Anthony said.

“No,” Blake said.

“What’s the matter with the cousin, other than being American?” Lady Katherine asked Blake.

“Nothing,” Anthony interjected. “She’s coming here shortly with Elizabeth. We knew you were arriving to discuss Melinda’s come-out and thought this the best time for you two to meet.”

“Melinda is my daughter. I won’t stand for a tall, loud, American know-it-all to be guiding her through her first season,” Blake said.

Lady Katherine’s eyes widened.

Anthony looked forlorn as he spoke. “After you kissed her, I thought you might enjoy spending more time with Cousin Gertrude.”

Lady Katherine’s head snapped to Tony. “He kissed her and you saw. Maybe she’s not the right person for this task.”

Anthony leaned forward and covered Lady Katherine’s hands with his own. “It was not her intention or wish. I guarantee it. William, Melinda and Elizabeth and I watched the whole thing from the window.”

“It’s bad enough, Sanders, you parade around town with that doxy. Now you’re bullying guests. What do you have to say for yourself?” Lady Katherine demanded.

Had he a sword in his hand, Blake would have gladly skewered them both. Briggs announced Elizabeth and Miss Finch from the door. He watched Elizabeth sweep by and introduce the American to Lady Katherine.

“Out with you both,” the older woman said to Anthony and Blake. “Sit down, Elizabeth. Miss Finch.

Ring for tea on your way, Sanderson.”

Blake strode out the door and clipped one word to Briggs. “Tea.”

In the library, Blake let go his wrath. “How could you do this, Tony? I thought you were my friend.”

“I am,” Anthony replied.

“Six weeks with her. In town yet, under the scrutiny of all. And with everyone still buzzing with Ann’s leaving,” Blake bemoaned and dropped to a chair.

“Miss Finch has not yet decided to stay, if it makes you feel any better,” Anthony said.

Blake shrugged. “That’s heartening.”

Anthony leaned forward. “Come on, Blake. These balls are dreadful bores. Just think how Cousin Gertrude will liven things up.”

“For you maybe,” Blake snapped.

Anthony sat back and stared. “You can’t lie. You never could. You don’t dislike her that much.”

“You were the one begging me to rescue you from her just a few days ago. What changed your mind?”