Learning to Waltz (20 page)

“I know, dear,” she told Miss Latimer the next morning. “Rain is a hostess’ worst nightmare.” It was less violent, but there would be no outdoor activities today.

With nowhere to go, they had lingered over breakfast, calling for more pancakes and topping them with an excellent compote of apricots and cherries. Theo and Sudbury were still there, finishing the newspapers. Alberta sat in the morning room writing to Mama, while Miss Latimer agonized over how to entertain her guests.

Miss Latimer sighed. “You must have some ideas, Frank.”

He looked up from his admiration of Lady Honora’s stitchery. She was good at it, Alberta admitted, but that hardly seemed like the viscount’s line, either.

He scratched his nose. “I don’t know. Games?”

Miss Latimer groaned. “If I have to play any more charades, I’ll scream. And no cards, either.” She strode to the window and looked up at the sky. No help there.

“Well, there’s chess and backgammon. How about dominoes?” He sounded as skeptical about the idea as Alberta felt.

Lady Honora sat up straight and dropped her sewing in her lap. “Goodness, I haven’t played dominoes since I was a child. That sounds like fun!” Her eyes were shining. She looked very pretty indeed.

The viscount certainly thought so. “Where are they?” he asked his sister, suddenly enthusiastic. “Do you know?”

“No.” She frowned in thought, one finger across her lips. “Perhaps that cabinet in the billiard room?”

Honora jumped to her feet. “Oh, let’s go see.”

The three of them traipsed out. Their voices receded while Alberta tried to decide how much to tell Mama about Evan’s state of mind.
Very little. She’ll find out for herself soon enough.

A screech sounded from across the hall, followed by piercing hysterics.
That
would be Honora. And Berta would bet it had nothing to do with dominoes.

She dropped the pen and ran into the hall. She was the first but far from the only one. Theo and Sudbury emerged from one doorway, Lord Hartwell and Miss Moreton from another, and the household staff came out of the woodwork like rats.

The viscount and Miss Latimer stood on the billiard room threshold, mouths agape. Honora had turned away and wailed into Latimer’s chest. He put his arm around her, but it was an automatic maneuver—his attention remained on whatever was happening inside the room.

Peering over Miss Latimer’s shoulder, Alberta had no question at all what was happening. Or rather, what
had been
happening. Captain Westwood and Lady Blythe stood several feet apart, both of them bright red. Blythe was adjusting her bodice while the Captain, for once bereft of his smirk, tried desperately to button his breeches.

Honora was finally led away, tended by her own maid and Miss Latimer’s. Sudbury foamed at the mouth, quite literally, flecks of saliva spraying with each expletive as he tried to get at Westwood. What a daunting scene.

While Theo took control of that situation, Alberta put on all her authority and sent everyone else packing. She grasped Miss Latimer’s hand for a moment and offered her vinaigrette—Amanda was quite white, her eyes still wide with shock. Then Latimer took her back to the morning room, saying something about brandy.

Berta and Theo herded Sudbury and the two transgressors into the library, where even Alberta accepted some brandy. It burned as it went down, but yes, it was quite bracing. Theo propped himself against Latimer’s desk. Alberta sat down, hoping everyone else might do the same, but they did not.

Blythe had gone from flushed to pale, but she held her chin stubbornly in the air as she paced back and forth.

Initially she claimed rape. “What made him think he could do that to me?”

Had they been alone, Berta would have been quite happy to answer Blythe’s question for her. But a choked laugh from Theo earned him a glare from both women.

“You hussy,” Sudbury yelled at his sister. “How can you say that? You’ve been throwing yourself at him since we got here.”

Blythe rounded on him. “Yes, I’m a flirt! But I never meant…” She sagged suddenly and dropped down on the sofa next to Alberta. “I never meant for him to do
that
.”

Sudbury turned his spleen on Westwood. He accused the Captain not only of rape but of base birth, deceit, and losing the war in America. Then he spat a challenge in his face.

Theo, who had listened to the whole diatribe with a growing gleam of merriment in his eyes, intervened. “Now, Sudbury, let’s approach this rationally. Your filial loyalty is entirely admirable, and there is no question you’re entitled to satisfaction. But there will be no advantage to your sister if you are killed in a duel. And the Captain has proved himself a better marksman than any of us.”

“By God, I will
not
be contravened! I’ll kill the bastard, and then I’ll make him marry her!”

“Er,” said Theo, his voice unsteady, “that
would
be a trick. Perhaps the wedding should come first?”

The Captain spoke for the first time since the billiard room door had opened on the scene of ignominy. “I’m more than willing, if the lady is agreeable.”

All eyes swiveled toward him and jaws fell agape.

“There,” Theo said into the sudden silence. “Captain Westwood is prepared to be reasonable.”

“Well I won’t have it!” sputtered Sudbury. “That good-for-nothing just thinks to get his hands on her dowry.”

Lady Blythe gazed at her brother in frank incredulity.

“Um—
is
there a dowry, Sudbury?” inquired Theo.

“She has £2,000 from her mother, invested in the five-percents, that comes to her upon her marriage.”

“And you think a fortune-hunter would sacrifice his freedom for
that
?” exclaimed Blythe. “Tell me, Lowell,” she added with biting sarcasm, “why did I not know of this great bequest?”

“Because you’d have found a way to get at it without meeting the terms of the trust, that’s why. And if I couldn’t make use of it, I didn’t see why you should.”

“People do manage on £100 a year, of course…” Theo commented unhopefully. Those people were not accustomed to life in the
ton
.

“But I’m not one of them,” declared Blythe. “I’ve been pinching pennies and nipping farthings for the past four years, and I will
not
do it for the rest of my life! I have no intention of marrying a pauper.”

Theo looked curiously at Westwood. “
Are
you a pauper, Captain?”

“I wondered if anyone would get around to asking me that,” Westwood replied, his smirk back in place. “I’ve no land to my name, though my father owned property in Sussex. I would sell my commission, of course, and with that I will have something over £1,500, with funds invested as well in gas and in shipping. And a reasonably wealthy aunt with no children and a fondness for—er, good-for-nothings.”

Well, that was not
too
dreadful. Alberta had supposed the man to be impecunious and a wastrel, based on nothing more than his smirk, and a certain negligent way with his clothing, and a healthy set of side-whiskers—oh, and that nasty habit of smoking cigars. But he was quite dashing. Such means as he described were modest, but still a very pleasant surprise. Particularly for a woman obliged to marry the man.

“Well, my dear,” urged Alberta, patting Blythe’s hand. “Have we another betrothal to celebrate?”

Lady Blythe looked the Captain over, assessing. “Perhaps.” She sounded shy, but Berta didn’t believe it.

“I certainly hope Lord Latimer has more champagne in the cellar,” murmured Theo.

Evan strolled into the drawing room behind the tea tray on Saturday evening but was plied instead with champagne and the news of matrimonial expectations not his own. Quite sincerely, he congratulated everyone involved, except Lady Honora, who was absent from the evening’s gathering. Some of the guests exclaimed in surprise that he’d been able to travel at all that day with all the rain, but no one expressed the least curiosity as to where he had gone or why. That suited him just fine.

He took his champagne over to the corner where Theo and Frank stood in conversation. “I knew of your plans before I left, Latimer,” he said. “But how did this other business come about?”

Theo’s grin looked like it might split his face in two.

Latimer rolled his eyes. “Indeed, it’s quite a tale. Can’t go into all the details here,” he said, casting a sidelong glance toward the couple unnamed. Evan thought the lady looked ill-tempered enough without being gossiped about in stray corners.

“You’ll be sorry you missed it when you hear the whole,” Theo said. “Let’s just say it involved an unconventional use for the billiard table, and hysterics—”

“Honora’s,” Latimer chimed in. “She’s still out of curl.”

“—and dominoes—”

“Lord, yes, we went looking for the dominoes. That’s what started the whole thing.”

“—and extended negotiations, greased with generous quantities of liquor in various forms over the course of the day.” Theo looked across to where Sudbury was clapping Westwood on the back, all jovial brotherhood. “Ten or eleven hours ago, that same fellow was challenging Westwood to pistols at sunrise.”

Evan gazed at his brother-in-law. “How I admire you, Theo. Why haven’t they drafted you into diplomatic service?”

Theo laughed out loud, and Blythe shot a look of wrath their way.

Sunday morning was still drizzly and sloppy. Deborah used that as her excuse to stay home from church. Instead, she worked with Julian on his lessons at the table in the parlor.

Julian jumped from his seat and ran to the window. “Who is that, Mama?”

She rose from her chair to get a better look at the phaeton stopped in the street. Though her reply half-strangled her, the boy ran off and reached the front door almost before the knock sounded.

She could see them through the parlor doorway, though she could not hear what they said. Evan lifted Julian and held him as they talked for a few minutes. Then he put the boy down and ruffled his hair as Julian trotted into the kitchen.

Evan pulled off his gloves as he came into the room but did not remove his greatcoat. Nor did Deborah offer to take it, though it dripped on the floor. He looked far better rested than the last time she had seen him—she knew the same could not be said of herself.

He extracted a roll of very official-looking papers from an inside pocket and set them down on the table. “I beg your pardon for imposing myself on you yet again. It will not take long.” He gestured to the document on the table. “I know this will go against the grain for you. I have set up a trust for Julian, specifically to fund his education.”

She made an involuntary movement and he paused, but she neither looked at him nor spoke.

“I don’t know whether you will want to send him to school or employ private tutors, but this is designed to cover whatever choice you make, up to and including university. You are a trustee, of course, together with my bankers in Shrewsbury. They will keep me informed as to its use, but you need have no direct contact with me.”

It was clearly her turn. She dared a quick look into his face. “I can’t believe…  I don’t know what to say. You are far too generous, sir.” Her voice hardly sounded like her own.

“You’re not going to turn it down?”

Deborah gazed down at the table, at the documents he had brought and the painstaking words Julian had lettered out: book, horse, man, Mister. She hated the obligation, but she certainly wanted the schooling. “No, I’ll not do that.”

“It just needs your signature, then.”

Quill and ink were handy. She signed twice, where he indicated, pleased that her hand was reasonably steady. Then he separated one copy, rolled it up, and returned it to his coat pocket.

“Deborah…” He paused long enough that she finally looked up. “I am not a trustee and have no say in how the moneys are used. But if you should ever want my advice, or if Julian needs a reference or a sponsor, please know that I will always be eager to help in any way I can. You can reach me at any time through the address listed in the trust document.”

A strangled “thank you” was all she could manage.

“I think Julian has a birthday soon?”

She nodded. “The twenty-seventh of this month.”

“I hope you won’t object if I send him a little something? And perhaps a letter now and then?”

“Of course not. You—have a kind heart, sir.”

Evan grunted. “According to Shakespeare,
a woman would run through fire and water
for that very thing. So apparently I still have a deal of work to do.”

Bowing abruptly, he left her.