Lord Darlington's Darling (14 page)

August unbent a trifle. He gave a half smile, shaking
his head. There was a puzzled look on his face. “I do
not quite know, my lord. I had been entrusted with a
billet from an admirer, as I thought, and gave it to
Lady Bethany. That is all, I swear!”

“A billet?” asked Lord Darlington, feeling all of his
muscles tensing. He betrayed by neither look or tone
anything of his heightened attention.

“Yes, my lord. I—I thought little of it, for if it had
been me in the same case I would have hoped for the
same favor,” said August, his face reddening under
his host’s scrutiny. He cleared his throat. “You see,
I—I have greatly admired Lady Bethany ever since
I first made her acquaintance.”

“My sister is fortunate in at least one of her admir
ers, then,” said Lord Darlington. It had become obvi
ous to him some weeks previous that Miss Fairchilde’s
brother had been dazzled by his sister. He was re
warded for his compliment by a startled, then grateful look from August. Gently he prodded, “What of the
billet?”

“Oh, that! Lady Bethany fairly snatched it from my hand and read it. Then she burst into tears and—
and slapped me,” said August with a renewed sense
of ill-usage and outrage.

“I apologize on my sister’s behalf. You were hardly
used, indeed,” said Lord Darlington. With his rare
smile he said, “I trust you will not hold it against her.”

August reassured the marquess quickly. “No, of
course not! I only hope that I have not done anything
wrong, my lord. As I said, I thought the fellow was
an admirer. He told me he had promised a poem to
Lady Bethany, but he was too bashful to approach
her for himself. Well, I could understand that!”

Lord Darlington smiled and shook his head. “I do not hold you responsible, August.” Nothing of his furious
thoughts was reflected in his friendly manner. “However,
I suspect you will think twice before allowing yourself
to be cupid’s messenger in the future!”

“I certainly shall!” exclaimed August. He finished
off his brandy, and with regret set down the empty glass. “Well, I suppose I must be on my way.”

“Need you run off quite yet?” Lord Darlington
stood up, setting aside his untouched glass. “You see,
Lady Darlington is putting it about that my sister has
had the headache and was suffering so much that she
quite unfairly made you to be her scapegoat. I would
be in your debt if you could stay a little while longer
and bruit it around to a few personages that Lady Bethany
had earlier seemed not to be quite herself.”

“Of course, my lord. And actually, I did think Lady Bethany
was not as lively as she usually is,” said
August, also standing.

“Thank you, August,” said Lord Darlington, walk
ing with the young gentleman to the library door. He
held out his hand. “You shall find me to be a good friend for this favor.”

August shook the marquess’s hand and pronounced
himself gratified. Just before he stepped out, Lord
Darlington stayed him for a second. “By the by, who
was the blushing poet? Did you know him?”

“I have met him here and there. It was a Mr. Farn
ham. He seems well enough received, and so I thought
there was no harm in it,” said August, once more
appearing to be thrown onto uncertain ground.

“Indeed, I believe I have myself seen Mr. Farnham
here and there,” remarked Lord Darlington indifferently. He smiled at August and gestured a footman
forward. “James will keep safe your hat and cane,
Mr. Fairchilde.”

August relinquished his possessions willingly enough
to the servant and ambled back into the ballroom.

Lord Darlington spoke briefly to the attentive foot
man. “Pray inform her ladyship that I am going in
search of Lady Bethany.”

“Aye, my lord.” The footman cleared his throat. “I
heard tell miss ran upstairs to her rooms, my lord.”

“Indeed?” Lord Darlington cast a glance upward at
the wide stairs. His mouth tightened. “I am obliged
to you.”

Th
e Darlingtons’ soiree ended on a good, if not
spectacular, note. After several minutes’ absence from the ballroom, Lord Darlington and his sister re
turned to the gathering. There was a great deal of speculation, both whispered and open, over what had
really happened. It was already known that young Au
gust Fairchilde was in a forgiving mood, having gone
so far as to infer he had teased the young lady when
he had seen she did not feel quite the thing. The ca
chet was put on the evening when Lady Bethany
went up to the youthful gentleman and, putting out
her hand, said with her sweetest smile, “I am sorry!
Can you forgive me for being so beastly? It was just
the headache and all of the excitement.”

August gallantly agreed he could forgive the young
beauty, and capped it all by asking her for the honor
of leading her out in the next set. Lady Bethany had
appeared to hesitate for a breath only, but upon
briefly meeting her brother’s expressionless eyes, she
smiled and acquiesced.

When Miss Fairchilde and her party gathered their
wraps and took leave of their host and hostess, it was
seen that Lady Bethany was once again in her usual
lively spirits.

Abby was naturally curious about what had caused
Lady Bethany to so far forget herself that she had made a public spectacle at the Darlingtons’ own soiree. She
could get little out of her brother, who negligently
waved aside her questions, as well as those by the rest
of his family, before going yawning up to bed.

The next day, as soon as Abby could persuade her
sister to accompany her, she paid a social call on Lady
Darlington and Lady Bethany, ostensibly to thank them for
a pleasant evening.

However, Abby and Lady Bethany soon removed themselves to the far end of the room to the window seat,
where they could hold private conversation. “Lady Bethany, whatever got into you yesterday evening? I could not
believe it when I heard what happened. And August will tell us nothing,” said Abby quietly.

“Oh, did you not see? Everyone else seemed to do so!” said Lady Bethany bitterly. “It was so stupid! August
gave me a note that so unnerved me that I didn’t stop
to think.” She pressed her hands to her cheeks in
remembrance. She shuddered. “It doesn’t bear think
ing about! I was so afraid I had ruined everything for
Mama and myself and Sylvan, too! When I realized
how badly I acted, I dared not return. But Sylvan
made me splash my face and go back downstairs and it all ended just as he promised. Everyone was very
kind and forgiving.”

“You are fortunate to have such a kind brother,”
said Abby forthrightly.

Lady Bethany grimaced, dropping her hands. “I don’t
know about that! He means to scold me today, I just
know it!”

“Haven’t you seen Lord Darlington since last
night?” asked Abby, diverted from her concern over her friend’s welfare.

Lady Bethany shook her head. “No, Sylvan goes out rid
ing early in the morning before Mama and I rise. I do
not look forward to speaking to him, I can tell you.
Mama has already raked me down.”

“It was extremely bad of you,” remarked Abby,
wondering at such passions living in her friend’s
breast. For herself, it was beyond her imagination that she could ever stage such a scene. She lacked the nec
essary force of character and also Lady Bethany’s high-
strung personality.

“You  needn’t  reproach  me  as  well!’’ exclaimed
Lady Bethany with a slight pout. “I know it was very bad, but if you only knew—! Abby, the note was from
Richard. That is what overset me.”

Abby looked at her in dismay. “I thought you had
made it plain to Mr. Farnham that he must not think
of you!”

“And so I did! At least, I thought I did. 1 wrote
him that he must wait for my majority so that we may
be wed.” Lady Bethany’s eyes filled suddenly. “Oh, Abby!
He threatened to give me over for another! He wrote that I did not care for him in the least, and he was in
such flat despair he would rather wed anyone else in
the world than one who was giving him such—such
pain!”

There was such a pronounced anguish in Lady Bethany’s
expression that Abby was afraid the two older ladies
at the other end of the room would notice. She placed
her arm around her friend’s shoulder and gave her a
little shake. “You mustn’t cry, Bethany! Don’t let
Lady Darlington or my sister see your face, or you
will be undone!”

Lady Bethany gave a broken laugh and dashed her hands
across her eyes. “My practical Abby! Do you never
let your emotions run away with you?”

Abby recalled vividly how much she had liked being
kissed in the moonlight, and she blushed. “On occa
sion, I fear. But we are talking about you, Bethany.
Perhaps it is all for the best. Mr. Farnham is distraught
now. It is only to be expected. But I am certain he
will come about, so you mustn’t be anxious over a few
wild words penned in haste.”

“Do you mean he will forget me?” asked Lady Bethany,
her voice colored by indignation as a flush made its way into her face.

“Of course not! How could he?” said Abby hastily.
“However, isn’t this all for the best, Bethany? You had to stop sneaking about, you know you did!”

Lady Bethany sighed, her burst of anger seeping away.
“Yes, of course. You are right. It would have been
infinitely worse if Sylvan, or Mama for that matter,
knew more than they already do about me and Rich
ard.” She pressed her friend’s fingers. “Thank you,
Abby, for being a true friend. I could not have borne
any of it except for you!”

Abby reassured the other young woman of her con
tinued friendship, and Lady Bethany, apparently in much
better spirits, begged her to accompany her on a shop
ping expedition later in the day. Abby agreed to it,
only warning that her sister’s plans for her might not
include such an outing.

“Let us ask dear Mrs. Crocker now,” said Lady Bethany,
at once bouncing up. Abby laughed and followed, will
ing to add her words of persuasion should they be
needed. However, neither Lady Darlington nor Mrs. Crocker could recall anything of extreme importance
that would stand in the way of a pleasure outing.

Upon returning to the town house, Abby and Mrs. Crocker were informed by August that Lord Fielding
had left his calling card. “His lordship looked fairly
blue that you were out, Abby,” said August cheer
fully. He waved at his sisters as he swung past them
on the stairs. “I shall be out until late with Wilson
and Bligh, so don’t wait supper on me.”

Mrs. Crocker at once led the way into the drawing
room and retrieved the calling card from the silver
salver. Holding the gilt-edged memento between her
fingers, she regretfully shook her head. “His lordship
did not pen a note, Abby. How annoying! I do wish we had been here to receive his lordship. Peter has
told me that Lord Fielding is hinting strongly at wishing to speak alone with you, Abby. Has his lordship
indicated anything to you, my dear?”

Abby at once felt a fluttery feeling of panic. “Oh!
I am certain Peter exaggerates the matter, Melissa. Lord Fielding seems much the same as always.”

Mrs. Crocker regarded her thoughtfully for a long
moment. “It has seemed to me lately that you have
not been as amenable to Lord Fielding’s company as
you once were, Abby. Am I making something of
nothing? For if I am, pray tell me!”

Abby was silent for a long moment. She was almost
shaking inside as she turned over in her head just
what she would like to say to her sister, for she
thought she knew well enough how it would be re
ceived. She tempered her answer. “I—I fear that I
do not know my own heart as well as I thought I
did, Melissa.”

Mrs. Crocker sighed as she replaced Lord Fielding’s
calling card on the salver. “Abby, dear Abby! You
know that Peter and I have only your best interests
at heart. We both spoke to you about it, that Lord
Fielding is just the gentleman for you. You were not
adverse to accepting his addresses, as I recall.”

Abby clasped and unclasped her hands in nervous
tension. “No, of course not! I mean, I wasn’t then. It
is just that lately, when I am with Lord Fielding, I don’t feel as
...
comfortable as I once did.”

“Have you taken Lord Fielding in aversion, then?”

“No, of course I haven’t!” exclaimed Abby, ap
palled that her sister could take her meaning in such
error.

Mrs. Crocker looked at her for a long, long moment.
“Abby, I have excused your lukewarm reception
toward Lord Fielding on the grounds of your natural
reticence and your desire to evoke a bit of jealousy
in him by bestowing your smiles on others. However,
I am surprised that things have come to such a pass
as this!”

Abby turned away, unable to bear the disappoint
ment and disapproval in her sister’s words and expres
sion. She clasped her hands tightly together. “I am
sorry, Melissa! I shall try to do better, I promise you.”

“My dear!”

Abby felt her sister’s hands drop gently to her
shoulders. All of her bottled emotions burst, and she
turned into her sister’s embrace. “Oh, Melissa, why is
it so hard? Why don’t I ever know what to do?”

Mrs. Crocker made a soothing sound and brushed
a strand of curling hair out of her sister’s face. “You
are being such a goose, Abby. Of course you know
what to do. You have every bit of integrity and understanding you will ever need to form your own best
decision.” She tenderly set her sister back from her
and looked down into Abby’s tear-streaked face. “Now, you mustn’t cry and make such a to-do over
it. Promise me that you won’t.”

Abby gave a wavering, grateful smile. She fumbled
her handkerchief out of her pocket and mopped her eyes. “You are so kind to me, Melissa. Why ever do
you put up with me?”

“I love you, of course. And so do Peter and August
and Mama and Aunt, too!”

Abby gave a watery laugh and blew her nose. It
was such a relief to know her sister was as supportive
of her as ever. Just as her spirits were lifting, Mrs.
Crocker said, “I suggest you search your heart most
carefully, Abby, so that you don’t disappoint Lord
Fielding.”

Unaware how her words had made Abby’s heart
plummet to her toes, Mrs. Crocker smiled and began chatting brightly about what that evening held in store
for them.