Joan Smith (15 page)

“Good God! But it would never work. And who could he possibly marry? Not that I mean actually marry, but just to put her nose out of joint?”

“Mrs. Lipton, perhaps,” Willie suggested. “She is still young enough—”

“This is horrid!” Jane said, scowling at them. “We should be thinking of ways to help Nick, not—

“My dear girl,” Willie said. “That is precisely what we are trying to do. You cannot imagine he still loves Aurelia. I swear he was gritting his teeth at luncheon when she told us for the third or fourth time how the prince is in love with her. We would be doing him a favor.”

“True,” Pel said. “And if Willie’s wrong, nothing  we say or do could turn Nick from his path in any case, so where is the harm?”

“Well, I won’t be a party to it,” Jane said, and left the room.

Mrs. Huddleston did not improve on closer acquaintance, nor did Aurelia improve with her mentor to guide her in her approaching role as mistress of Clareview. Mrs. Huddleston’s public complaints and suggestions were couched in an arch manner to show her good humor, but there was a razor edge to them all.

“Should you not be sitting at the bottom of your fiancé’s table, ‘Relia, as Nick is sitting at its head?” she asked as they sat down to dinner that evening.

“Lady Elizabeth is our hostess,” Nick pointed out. “She has asked me to take Uncle’s place as host.”

“ ‘Relia is a little more than a guest, however,” Mrs. Huddleston replied. Then she turned her steely gaze to Jane. “Speaking of guests, how long did you say you planned to stay, Miss Ramsey?”

“I have been asked to remain until after the party—to help with the preparations, you know.”

“At home we had the servants do that sort of thing. I advise you do likewise in future, ‘Relia. I am sure Miss Ramsey has a life of her own, beyond hanging around Clareview. You must be engaged, at your age, Miss Ramsey?”

“No, I am not,” Jane replied, concealing her discomfort as much as she could. “I did not mean to stay so long, but my aunt caught a cold, you recall.”

“I noticed she was well enough to be dressed and sitting in old Goderich’s bedchamber when I went abovestairs. I popped in to see him, by the by,” she added to Lady Elizabeth. “I found him in better physical shape than I expected, but completely gaga. I could not make him understand who I was. He kept calling me Mrs. Muldoon.”

A dreadful hush fell over the table. Mrs. Muldoon was the publican’s wife, a loud, vulgar, managing woman who served the tables at the local inn. Mrs. Huddleston’s similarity to this harpy was quite noticeable. Into the hush, Pel spoke.

“I see a likeness,” he said, studying Marie.

“Ah, and who is this Mrs. Muldoon? A neighbor?”

Pel opened his mouth. Jane rushed in. “Yes, she lives in Amberley.”

Mrs. Huddleston nodded. “As I said, his mind is gone completely. I am sure you could make some arrangement with your influential friends to assume the title of Lord Wyecliffe, Nick. Prinny might give you a hand, as he is so fond of ‘Relia. There is no chance of old Goderich making a match.”

“I think not,” Nick said blandly. “It is so common to be snatching at a title.”

Mrs. Huddleston felt the sting in this speech. “And so noble to be snatching at a fortune!” she riposted. She heard a sharp intake of breath from across the table. Willie, was it, or that Jane person? “Not that I mean to say you are after Papa’s money,” she added forgivingly. “All the lads were dangling after ‘Relia, even the ones with blunt of their own.”

“What do you hear from your sister, Marie?” Willie asked, to maintain some semblance of dignity at the dinner table.

Eleanor’s doings—enceinte again—got them through the fish course. The affairs of Mr. Town-send were so multifarious that he lasted through the next two courses, with a little diversion into London society by Willie when the going became rough.

After the worst meal of her whole life, Jane was glad to escape to the saloon while the gentlemen took their port. She was not anticipating the interval with the Townsend sisters with anything like pleasure, but at least Nick would not be there, writhing in embarrassment and biting his tongue to keep it in check. He must love Aurelia desperately to maintain a discreet silence in the face of that woman’s provocation.

Mrs. Huddleston did not accompany them to the saloon. She said to Lady Elizabeth, “Nature calls. I must take a quick nip upstairs. I shan’t be long,” then she darted upstairs and remained there, with a short stop en route to view ‘Relia’s Van Dycks, until the gentlemen joined the ladies.

When she returned below, she said in a carrying voice for all to hear, “I sent your aunt back to bed, Miss Ramsey. She was tiring Goderich out. It is odd she did not join us for dinner, if she is well enough to be up and about, is it not?”

“She did not want to be coughing at the table,” Jane said. “As Lord Goderich already has the cold, she feels she can visit with him.”

“I wager she caught it off of Goderich. Not wanting to be coughing on us is
one
explanation for her absence,” Mrs. Huddleston said, with a sapient look.

Nick could take no more. “Have you a more likely one, Mrs. Huddleston?” he asked stiffly.

“I would like a word with you in private, Nick,” she replied. That cold “Mrs. Huddleston,” when she was accustomed to being called “Marie,” was a warning to her. She had got on a first-name basis with Nick on his second visit to Upper Grosvenor Square. “No hurry. We shall discuss it later. Now, what shall we do to amuse ourselves? The evening is so long when you take dinner in the middle of the afternoon.”

“Would you like a few hands of whist?” Lady Elizabeth suggested.

“Why not? We have enough for two tables. We’ll put the youngsters at one table. Willie, you must make up the fourth at ours, along with Horace and myself and Lady Elizabeth. You can partner Nick, ‘Relia, and give Miss Ramsey a chance with Mr. Vickers.” She gave Jane a winking nod, as if to say, a
chance to nab him, slow top.

“I don’t like cards,” Aurelia said.

“No more do I,” her sister said, “but we can hardly sit here staring at each other all evening.”

In fact, she did enjoy cards, and was good at the game. With the wily Willie as her partner, she made a tidy sum, which did not deter her from keeping a sharp eye on the other table, where she noticed Aurelia sat listlessly, while the cunning Miss Ramsey flirted with the gentlemen.

Horace’s frequent refilling of his wineglass soon had him nodding. After an hour, the game broke up.

“Go to bed, Horace. I’ll see you in your study now,  Nick, if you are free,” Mrs. Huddleston said, and strode from the room. She had already toured the house and discovered the location of the study.

Nick refused to become a second Horace and remained behind a few moments, pouring wine and chatting unconcernedly, while trying to get his temper in check.

“Marie is waiting for you, Nick,” Aurelia reminded him after a moment.

Just as he opened his lips to give a setdown, Jane said, “I shall look after Aurelia, Nick. You can go ahead.”

He glared, and left. Mrs. Huddleston sat in his uncle’s chair behind the oak desk. “Sit down,” she said, in the tone of invitation.

“I would prefer to stand. What is it, Marie?”

She rose, shut the door, and stood facing him. “It is that Mrs. Lipton woman,” she said.

“Surely you mean lady?”

“Call her what you like, she is dangling after your uncle. It is all a plot, lad, and you are too innocent to see it. She cannot be a day over forty, and plenty young enough to land a son in over your head to diddle you out of the title and estate.”

“What if she does? I have an estate of my own bordering on Clareview.”

“A piddling seven hundred acres, and what is it—five thousand a year? You represented yourself as the heir to Clareview, and a great bosom bow of Wellington’s. Now you are digging in your heels against going to Paris. If you have neither the title nor the wits to make a career for yourself through your influential friends, what will become of you?”

“I can make a good living from my own estate.” “And a retired officer’s half pay,” she said ironically. “That would not keep ‘Relia in bonnets.”

“Aurelia has sufficient bonnets to last a lifetime.”

“I believe you are as crazy as your uncle. I give you fair warning, Nick, you either take this situation in hand, or I shall advise Aurelia to jilt you.”

“And do you think she will do as you say?” he asked, in a silken voice.

Her lips clenched into a harsh line for a moment. Then she opened them and said bluntly, “No, I don’t. There is the mischief in it. Now, let us talk like sensible people. You claim to love Aurelia. Naturally I believe you, for everyone loves her. Think of her, not yourself. Do you want to bury that innocent child in the sticks, on a farm of seven hundred acres? Why, you and she could be the toast of London. A prime ministership is not beyond you in the future, if you play your cards right. Will you do as I ask?”

He looked at her in a puzzling way, not replying.

“Will you do what is best for Aurelia?” she asked grimly.

“Yes, I will, Marie,” he said. “And I thank you for your advice.”

She smiled in triumph. “No hard feelings. It is my custom to say what is on my mind. Perhaps my wits have been sharpened from association with Papa. There is no grass growing under his feet. He did not rise from the dirt to become the second largest brewer in England by being foolish. Naturally you have not had my opportunities to look out for yourself. You had it all handed to you on a silver platter. I shall be right there by your side to steer you straight if you begin to wander, after you remove to London. I am glad we had this little talk. I understand you cannot turn the Lipton woman off when she claims to be ill, but you must keep her away from Goderich. I wager she is up there now, sweet-talking the old goat.”

“I shall go abovestairs at once and look into it,” he said.

“I knew I might count on you. You’re not quite as sharp as Willie, but you’ll do.”

She gave his arm a sharp squeeze and they left the study. Nick went abovestairs, where he found his uncle being entertained by his valet, Rogers.

“How are you tonight, Uncle?” Nick asked.

“Never felt better. It is good having the house full of young ladies again.”

“You would have better luck with them if you shaved off that beard and had your hair cut.”

“I know it. Jane tells me it would please her. We’ll do it this minute if you will stay here to see Rogers don’t cut my throat. Will you do it?”

“With the best will in the world. Get the scissors and razor, Rogers.”

Rogers gurgled his pleasure as he rushed off to prepare for this job he had been long urging on his master.

“You aren’t forgetting the New Year’s party, Uncle?” Nick said. “Do you feel you are up to visiting it?”

“I will dance every dance!”

“Say
...
every second dance. We don’t want to waltz you into an early grave.”

“Waltz—I cannot hope to master the waltz, but I would like to see it. They tell me you get to hold the girls in your arms. Shocking! I wish I could do it.”

Lord Goderich sat in a chair in the middle of the  room with a towel over his shoulders while Rogers performed the haircut and shave, with Nick looking on. As the white hair fell to the floor, Nick wondered if he was taking the coward’s way out. He had offered for Aurelia, after all, and been accepted. He remembered Wellington’s advice during a skirmish between Ciudad Rodrigo and Salamanca, when they had to make a temporary retreat.

“The men will think we’re cowards!” Nick had objected.

“Better cowards for a day than dead for the rest of our lives,” Wellington had said. “Some odds are best turned down, Colonel. There is such a thing as horse sense.”

Whatever about the morality of it, the improvement in his uncle’s spirits was surely a good thing. Goderich looked a decade younger when the job was finished.

When he went to the mirror to view himself, his step was steadier. He looked in the mirror and said, “Good God, who is that ugly old man? I look like my grandfather.”

“A fine old gentleman, your grandpapa,” Rogers said fondly.

“Aye, he had bottom. Still riding to hounds when he was my age. Bring my jacket, Rogers. Let me see if I can hold up the shoulders.”

He put the jacket on over his nightgown. It hung loosely, but not so loosely as to appear ludicrous. He straightened his shoulders and pulled in his stomach.

“I would like to learn the waltz,” he said. “Show me how it goes, Nick.”

“For that, we will require music—and a lady.”

“Rogers will play his recorder for us. Do you know any waltzes, Rogers?”

“Indeed I do,” Rogers said, and darted off to bring his flute.

“And the lady?” Nick said.

Even before thinking of Aurelia, he thought of Jane. Aurelia disliked visiting his uncle in any case. When Rogers returned, he told him to ask Jane to come upstairs for a moment.

Jane went willingly enough. She assumed her aunt wanted something, and felt guilty at having deserted her for so long.

“It is Lord Goderich,” Rogers explained as they went upstairs.

“I hope he has not taken a turn for the worse?”

“No, for the better,” Rogers said merrily. “He wants to see a waltz performed.”

“I didn’t realize he had ever heard of the waltz.”

“Oh, I try to keep him informed what is afoot in the world, Miss Ramsey.”

She was surprised to see Nick in Goderich’s room when she entered. “You should have brought Miss Townsend up,” she said to Rogers.

“Colonel Morgan wanted you.”

Her eyes flew to Nick’s, to see the laughter lurking there. “Well put, Rogers,” he said. “The music, if you please.”

Jane was still stinging from Mrs. Huddleston’s attack on her. If the harpy learned she had slipped away from the party for a private waltz with Nick, what would she not have to say? Jane’s first anger was for Mrs. Huddleston, then it grew to include Nick for his poor judgment in asking her up here, and worst of all, she was angry with herself for feeling a wild rush of heat that must be joy.
Colonel Morgan wanted you.
But he only wanted her to show Goderich the waltz. Let him waltz with Aurelia
.