Laura Matthews (19 page)

The party from Lockwood arrived in a sedate landau with a scarlet-and-gold-liveried coachman. Jennifer deplored the former and confessed with great pride that she had just designed the latter’s outfit. The Dowager Lady Pontley scowled at her and muttered something about Pontley’s indulgence of the girl’s whims, but the viscount himself paid no heed to her remark.

Assembled in the drawing room, Kilbane set himself to amuse the dowager while Pontley conversed with the vicar and his wife. Jennifer described to Phoebe and Glenna in extravagant detail the plans she had for further liveries in her future household.

"For I see not the least reason, do you, why they should all be dressed alike. What would be most impressive on a tall footman would appear dumpy on a short coachman. And pages. Now, Philip has not a single page in the entire household and I have told him that they are essential. Silver and blue, I think, with large coins for buttons and huge, old-fashioned buckles on their shoes. And I shall have a blue mantelet trimmed with a silvery fur so that when I go out driving and they are standing behind it will make quite a picture.” She changed the subject abruptly when she found her aunt’s piercing gaze on her. “Do you think we might have a rehearsal after dinner to show Philip and Aunt Gertrude how we progress?”

Phoebe agreed that it would be useful for them to accustom themselves to an audience; Glenna received an imperious beckon from the dowager, which she reluctantly obeyed, displacing Kilbane, who was just as glad to join Jennifer.

“Miss Stokes, I believe,” the dowager said coldly.

“You must forgive my little deception, Lady Pontley. I had no other thought than to assist you in your time of trouble.” Glenna could not summon up the smile she wished, but she met the old woman’s eyes calmly.

“You were a very inadequate companion with your determined ways. I find Miss Perkins much more to my taste.”

Glenna wondered if Miss Perkins was bird-witted, but she did not ask. “I hope you find yourself comfortable in the dower house, my lady. It must be a pleasure to have your niece visiting you."

The dowager eyed her suspiciously, looking for a sign of mockery, but there was no trace of it in Glenna’s face. “Humph. I am too old to cater to the whims of youth, Miss Forbes, and will be delighted when she moves to the main house.”

“I understand they await only Miss Stafford’s parents from the north.”

"That could be weeks more,” the old woman grumbled. “My brother lives and breathes hunting at this time of year and his wife takes forever to get her procession on the road.”

“Does Miss Stafford’s sister come, too?”

“If she isn’t breeding again,” the dowager sniffed.

Glenna was at a loss to respond to such a remark, so she turned the conversation. “We have just decided to rehearse the play for you after dinner. Miss Stafford is excellent in her role, and I feel sure you and Lord Pontley will be proud of her.”

Since dinner was announced then, the dowager had no chance to make the acrid reply she intended and Glenna was spared further discourse with her. Owing to the uneven numbers of men and women, Jennifer was seated between the dowager and Kilbane, who kept her flattering attention throughout the meal. Pontley made polite conversation with Mrs. Thomas and watched the couple opposite him with an expression Glenna could not decipher. When the ladies withdrew, Phoebe whispered to her friend, “He does not seem to be the least affected by Kilbane’s courting of the girl, nor her obvious partiality for him.”

“Well, you would hardly expect Pontley to make a scene, Phoebe. I am convinced he has taken note of it.”

“And who has not? The dowager is wearing the sourest face ever I saw, and I pity Jennifer when she is alone with her aunt this evening.”

“That does not worry me near so much as the troubled frowns your parents are exhibiting. I think they had no idea before now of what is going forward.”

“Poor Mama. She will blame herself for allowing such a hobble under her roof, and you can be sure Papa will have a serious, painful discussion with Kilbane in the library. Oh, I could ring Jennifer’s neck.”

"She is not alone to blame, Phoebe. Kilbane is old enough to know better than to act such a gudgeon.” Glenna made a gesture of silence as they joined the other ladies in the drawing room, but soon all three of the younger women left to search Phoebe’s room for props for their performance.

Jennifer’s aunt took the opportunity to put some rather embarrassing questions to Mrs. Thomas on the nature of their young visitor. Under cover of righteous indignation she solicited Kilbane’s background and association with the Thomas family.

“An Irish peer,” she snorted haughtily. “There is something approaching frivolity in the lot of them. Others may be impressed with their good humor and ease of manner, but just see where it leads,” she said significantly.
“I
call it a want of conduct.”

Mrs. Thomas, appalled by this attack, could think of little to say, and it was fortunate that the men joined them at that moment. There was no sign that any such disagreeable conversation had taken place over their port for, although the vicar still appeared worried, the other two men showed no evidence of less than pleasantness. When everyone was reassembled and the necessary props gathered, Phoebe introduced the play, and with Mrs. Thomas acting as prompter, they went through it almost without a hitch.

Kilbane and Jennifer enacted their pretend flirtation with vivid authenticity which caused the dowager to purse her lips and Mrs. Thomas to blink uncomfortably at the vicar, but Pontley sat through the whole in the most negligently relaxed way calculated to raise Phoebe’s spleen. The viscount was the first to laugh at the appropriate places, and the first to congratulate the actors when they concluded their efforts. He was especially kind to Jennifer and appeared impressed with her abilities; there was no reserve in his manner whatsoever, Phoebe thought disgustedly.

This attitude seemed to calm the vicar, who decided that perhaps he had read too much into the scene at the dining table. Since he had no way of knowing that his wife was only waiting for a chance to speak with him alone, he regained his usual spirits and requested that Glenna honor them with a piece or two on the harp. The vicar and Pontley were the only ones to really benefit from this performance, for all the others were preoccupied with their own thoughts and anxieties. When Glenna ceased playing, the dowager rose and announced that her party must be leaving.

Very shortly after this exodus Mrs. Thomas indicated to the vicar that she wished to speak with him in the library. They were gone only a short time when the vicar returned to summon Kilbane to his sanctum, and Mrs. Thomas announced that she was retiring early to bed. Phoebe and Glenna shared a commiserating glance but sat silent when they were alone to await Kilbane’s reappearance.

The vicar’s library was a comfortable room which smelled of leather and possessed several snug chairs as well as innumerable books, untidily stacked papers and an assortment of family mementos. When they were seated he addressed Kilbane haltingly. “I feel it is my duty...that is, when you are in my home... The fact of the matter is, my boy, that I have a great affection for you, as though you were my own son. It has been years, I know, since I was your mentor, but I cannot so lightly thrust aside the obligations I undertook then. When you stayed in my home I undertook your moral as well as your intellectual guidance.” He paused to clear his throat and peer near-sightedly at Kilbane. “It has been called to my attention...well, I noticed it, too, of course... You did not behave as you ought at dinner,” he finally said bluntly.

“You refer to Miss Stafford, I collect, sir,” Kilbane murmured stiffly.

“Yes, naturally I do,” Mr. Thomas replied, slightly ruffled. “You were very particular in your attentions to her, and even if she were not engaged to be married, your behavior would not have been above reproach. I cannot in all conscience refrain from speaking. Not only is there the fact that I was honored with your father’s friendship, but I am aware that you have no one now to provide you with the guidance so necessary at your age. You do not perhaps realize that your attentions must be an embarrassment to Miss Stafford in her situation, and her aunt put my wife to the blush over your conduct,” he concluded sadly, as he wearily rubbed his eyes.

“I did not intend to cause Mrs. Thomas any discomfort, sir, and I appreciate the responsibility you feel toward me, but I have attained my majority recently and I have every intention of seeing to my own behavior. Not that I do not feel gratified by your concern, sir, for I most certainly do.”

Kilbane paused to run a finger between his neckcloth and his neck to ease the choking cravat. “Miss Stafford is not entirely comfortable living with her aunt and she is finding her fiancé...rather restrictive. Being a spirited young lady, she is in need of some more felicitous companionship, which I have endeavored to provide for her.” He eyed the vicar with some bravado, but his hands twisted nervously in his lap. “I pride myself that I have managed to cheer her and keep her spirits up.”

The vicar regarded him with sorrowful eyes. “You are deluding yourself, Kilbane. No doubt the young lady is enjoying her chance to be with all of you and act in the play, but she is not your responsibility. Lord Pontley will see to her happiness.”

“But he doesn’t make her happy!”

“She would not have become engaged to him if he did not. I saw no evidence of her holding him in anything but regard. You have convinced yourself that she needs your attentions because you...wish to shower them on her. That can only lead to disappointment for you, my, boy. Try to understand that and put yourself at a distance from her.” He could not feel that he was reaching the young man opposite him, with his stubbornly set face and mutinous eyes. “I should not like to disappoint Phoebe and Glenna by calling a halt to the play.”

Kilbane started to his feet in agitation. “Sir, surely you would not! Everyone is looking forward to it, and what of the village school?”

“I cannot allow such a...flirtation to be conducted beneath my roof, Kilbane. If you cannot conduct yourself with propriety during the rehearsals, I see no alternative.”

Undecided, Kilbane paced about the room, running his hand through his curly black hair, his blue eyes entirely devoid of their usual laughter. The vicar watched him patiently and made no further comment. Finally the young Irishman stopped before him and said formally, “Very well, sir. I will not be the cause of disappointment to Phoebe and Glenna, or Miss Stafford. Our rehearsals will be a model of propriety,” he offered bitterly.

“Thank you, my lord.” The vicar smiled gently at the distraught Kilbane. “You must come to accept the situation; I know it is not easy, but you will be grateful in the end.”

With a stiff nod, Kilbane excused himself. He was tempted to walk straight out of the house and not return, but then he would never see Jennifer again and that he could not bear. Possibly there was justice in what the vicar said; maybe he had not been behaving as he ought. But Lord, how could one see that charming girl thwarted in her buoyant radiance without wanting to take a hand? Certainly he could not, and, he admitted to himself at last, he did not wish to. His fondest dream was to free her to be as lively and animated as she should naturally be, to protect her from the harsher realities of life, to be the one to offer her happiness.

Kilbane could not see the rigid, heavy-handed Pontley as the man to possess such an exotic wild bird. Had not the viscount sat through the dinner smilingly unaware of any cause for concern? That kind of insensibility would be anathema to Jennifer! Herself the most sensitive of creatures, surely she needed someone sympathetic....

Someone like himself, he admitted miserably, before shrugging off his cares to rejoin Phoebe and Glenna in the drawing room, where he was received with concern, though no one spoke of Miss Stafford.

* * * *

No mention was made of Kilbane during the drive back to Lockwood, either. Pontley was, unaccountably, extremely good humored—polite to the dowager, whose countenance indicated her belief that he was a fool, and teasing to Jennifer, who felt a certain satisfaction that he was oblivious to Lord Kilbane’s attentions. She was delighted that he had no intention of scolding her for paying less attention to him than to her new acquaintance; and any scenes that were to be made were her province, in any case.

The dowager’s restraint was not so strong, however, for the moment they were alone she began to berate her niece. “How dare you make such a fool of yourself? I would expect Pontley to be oblivious; he has no graces to speak of and wouldn’t see beyond his nose. But you can’t fool me, my girl. Twisting an Irish peer about your thumb and flaunting him before your prospective husband... Vulgar, that’s what it is! Have you no shame? No, I needn’t ask, nor any conduct either. You put me in a most disagreeable position, miss, and I will not have it. Do you think to rouse jealousy in Pontley? He’s incapable of it, and certainly would not feel it toward a baby-faced Irishman!”

Jennifer stomped her foot in rage. “Lord Kilbane is the most handsome man I have ever met and not the least baby-faced. He has more wit in his little finger than Philip has in his whole body, and is always the most charming, accommodating gentleman. Philip could take a lesson from him, my dear aunt, for Kilbane knows how to please a lady with his attentions and perpetual liveliness. Why, Philip is about as animated as a toad!”

“You don’t need a lively husband, Jennifer,” the old woman said coldly. “The last thing on earth I would recommend for you would be an indulgent, besotted groom. Pontley will keep a rein on you, be sure of it.”

Her remarks were not calculated to soothe the girl, who had been encouraged by Pontley’s smiling easiness on the drive home. If he could accept her flirtations with such nonchalance, she foresaw a rosy future for them. Jennifer enjoyed nothing more than the homage of a handsome young man, and felt it her due. If the stuffy Pontley would not provide it, there were others who would, and he had no right to object.