Lord Darlington's Darling (20 page)

All afternoon Abby struggled to regain her equilib
rium from her unhappy interview with Lord Fielding
and adjust to the disappointment with which Mrs.
Crocker regarded her. It came as a welcome respite
when they had several callers come to tea, making unnecessary any private conversation that might have
otherwise taken place between her and her sister.

However, social obligation could not delay discussion of Abby’s future forever. There was not an obligation that evening, an unusual occurrence created by
their hostess being forced to cancel her supper party
due to an accident having befallen her race-mad son,
and the Crocker household settled in the drawing
room for after-dinner coffee. Only August was miss
ing, having announced plans to go to supper with his
particular friends before heading off into the country
with them for a few days.

While Mrs. Fairchilde and Mrs. Paddington played
at backgammon before the fire, Mrs. Crocker took up
her embroidery hoop, remarking that it had been too
long since she had set a few stitches. Abby obliged
her brother-in-law by playing cards with him. She was
a clever player, and Mr. Crocker did not despise her
as an opponent. Yet unexpectedly, during a discard,
Mr. Crocker made mention of something that most
concerned Abby.

“Abby, you might as well know. Lord Darlington
called today while you were visiting with Lord Fielding,”
said Mr. Crocker, a shade grimly.

Abby stared at him over the top of her cards. “Why,
this is the first I have heard of it.” She directed a
questioning glance across the room at her sister, but
Mrs. Crocker did not look up from her embroidering.
Abby turned back to her brother-in-law for enlighten
ment.

Mr. Crocker mumbled something under his breath before taking two cards. It could not have been said
whether he was frowning at his hand or at his
thoughts. “You may guess for what purpose the
marquess called, Abby.”

“I’d rather not,” said Abby, her heart beginning to
beat harder.

“Lord Darlington requested an audience with our
mother,” said Mrs. Crocker quietly. She looked up,
her gaze very straight. “He has asked Mama’s permis
sion to press his suit with you.”

Abby felt incredulous. She could scarcely believe
that Lord Darlington had actually made a formal offer
for her. A dizzy happiness began to pervade through
her body.

“I see that you are thunderstruck, which isn’t sur
prising,” said Mrs. Crocker. Her eyes dropped once
more to her embroidery. “I, for one, did not expect
anything from that quarter!”

“Melissa.” Mr. Crocker’s quiet warning caused his
wife to look up quickly. At meeting her husband’s
gaze, Mrs. Crocker colored slightly. She smiled and
shook her head. Mr. Crocker turned back to his sister-in-law. “Abby, I would ordinarily not broach this matter to you with everyone present. However, since your
mother has already granted Lord Darlington leave to
pay his addresses, and everyone in the house is fully
aware of it, I thought it of little consequence. Is Lord
Darlington’s suit acceptable to you, my dear?”

“Yes, oh, yes,” said Abby quietly. Her dignity was
in direct contrast to the turbulent feelings that had
seized hold of her. Her mind was in a whirl, one cha
otic thought chasing the next.

“Pray do not lose sight of Lord Fielding’s suit in
contemplation of this new offer,” said Mrs. Crocker
quickly.

Abby regarded her sister, a small frown forming between her brows. “Why don’t you like Lord Dar
lington, Melissa?”

“It is not a question of liking, Abby! Why, I have
nothing against his lordship, except that I do not care
overmuch for the dandified airs he puts on,” said
Mrs. Crocker.

“I think Lord Darlington is quite modish in his
dress,” said Abby at once.

Mrs. Crocker laughed, her expression lightening.
“Oh, Abby!”

“There’s also the matter of the Darlington reputa
tion,” said Mr. Crocker heavily. “The late marquess
was a hardened gamester, from all accounts, and im
provident with his inheritance. I have heard the estates
were mortgaged to the hilt. There is some talk that
Lord Darlington has retired the outstanding mort
gages, yet I would be very surprised, indeed, if Lord
Darlington has much to offer in creature comforts for
the support of a wife.”

Mrs. Paddington had been listening intently. “If
you’re thinking this ,arquess is as wild as his father,
Peter, it is no such thing. I knew the last Lord Darlington, and if ever there was a profligate, it was he! T
his young gentleman is not cut from the same
cloth, I assure you.”

“I found Lord Darlington to be quite open, both
about his circumstances and his intentions for the sup
port of a wife. I saw nothing of which to complain,”
said Mrs. Fairchilde.

“Well! It appears Lord Darlington has won points
all around,” said Mrs. Crocker, briskly putting away
her embroidery. “However, it is early days yet. Abby
may find she prefers Lord Fielding, a most worthy
gentleman, as I am certain we all can agree. Peter, it
grows late. Will you escort me upstairs?”

“Of course, my dear.” He put down his cards, smil
ing apologetically at his sister-in-law for leaving their
game unfinished. As he rose and went to join his wife,
who was waiting impatiently by the door, he re
marked, “I trust you will use wisdom in your deci
sion, Abby.”

“I shall try to do so,” said Abby. She thought she
knew already what she wanted, but she felt it was not
an appropriate time to say anything, not when it was
obvious her sister was still not reconciled to the possi
bility of Lord Fielding being supplanted in Abby’s
affections.

For herself, Abby looked forward to seeing Lord
Darlington again with even greater anticipation than ever before.

It
proved to be an unexceptional meeting. They
chanced to encounter one another at an evening
musicale that same weekend. Abby was sitting with
her relations, all of whom, with the exception of Mr.
Crocker, were exhibiting enjoyment of the perfor
mance. Mr. Crocker shifted restlessly in his chair and
winced every time the diva’s voice rose to a shrill note.

Abby was not absorbed by the entertainment, ei
ther. But that was due, she realized, more to her men
tal perambulations than to any fault of the performer.
However, she thought she would welcome a respite,
and she knew that her brother-in-law would relish the
opportunity. She leaned toward Mr. Crocker’s ear and
whispered, “Peter, I should like very much to have a
breath of fresh air. Will you escort me?”

“Willingly!” Mr. Crocker got up and gave his arm
to her. With a whispered word to his wife and a mumbled apology to aficionados who fixed them with af
fronted stares, he speedily conveyed his sister-in-law
out of the drawing room and into the anteroom. When
he had closed the door behind them, he said, “Whew!
I shall never know why Melissa is partial to such
screeching. It is a complete mystery to me, I assure
you!”

Taking her brother-in-law’s arm again so that they
could slowly walk the length of the wide gallery, Abby
laughed. She teased, “But the singer is an artiste, Pete!”

Mr. Crocker snorted. “All very well for you to say
so, Abby, but it doesn’t change a thing. My ears are
still humming.”

They had walked a little ways further and encoun
tered a couple of others who had sought refuge from
the evening’s entertainment. One was a close friend
of Mr. Crocker’s, whom he greeted with delight. The
other was Lord Darlington, who did not engender
more than a civil greeting from Mr. Crocker.

Abby had naturally seen Lord Darlington earlier
in the audience. He had escorted his mother, Lady Darlington, and Lady Bethany to their seats before disappearing at the beginning of the performance. She had
not seen him since and had assumed he had left. She
therefore gave her hand to Lord Darlington with a special pleasure at being able to talk with him. “My lord! I am so glad to see you this evening.”

“I trust you are well, Miss Fairchilde?” he asked, placing her hand on his arm.

“Very well, indeed, my lord,” said Abby, blushing and smiling up at him.

As Mr. Crocker and his friend fell into deep discus
sion over a certain horse’s points, Lord Darlington
steered Abby a little apart, politely directing her atten
tion to a fine portrait hanging on the opposite wall.

Abby murmured her appreciation of the portrait,
but Lord Darlington, knowing that they were now out
of earshot of the others, brushed such mundane pleas
antries aside. He smiled at her in a way that set her
heart fluttering.

“I am certain you must have been told that I called
on Mrs. Fairchilde and what passed between us.”

“Yes, indeed. I am very glad you spoke to my
mother,” said Abby, turning her head to meet his
gaze. Her heart thudded at his expression.

“Then I am glad also,” said Lord Darlington quietly. He looked at her with a marked warmth in his
eyes. “Nothing could make me any happier than to
be able to call you my own.”

Abby made a slight, mute gesture of mixed embar
rassment and gratification. “My lord, you go too
quickly for me.”

Lord Darlington laughed softly. “You are adorable
when you are covered with confusion. I shall call on
you tomorrow to take you driving, if you should like it?”

“I should like it very much, my lord,” said Abby,
smiling shyly.

That was all the conversation they were allowed to
have, Mr. Crocker and his friend coming to join them.
With a few civil words of excuse, Mr. Crocker escorted
Abby back toward the musicale. “What was Darling
ton so intent about?” he asked casually.

“He merely wished to assure himself that I would
be at home tomorrow morning, so that he could take
me driving,” said Abby. She did not think it necessary
to divulge to her brother-in-law the lover-like words
that Lord Darlington had spoken. Those she would
treasure close and in private.

Mr. Crocker threw her a skeptical glance. “I see.
Well, no doubt you know your own business best,” he
remarked as he opened the door and ushered her back
inside. A particularly high note was hit, and he visibly
shuddered, muttering under his breath that he hoped the ghastly affair would soon be over.

Mr. Crocker had his wish granted to him in no more
than a quarter hour. The diva took her bows to ap
plause, and the audience began to break up into knots of conversation.

Lady Darlington, escorted by Lord Darlington and
trailed by her daughter, made her way over to the
Crocker party. The dowager greeted everyone in a
friendly way. “Wasn’t it a marvelous performance? I
don’t know when I have heard better.”

Mrs. Crocker and Mrs. Fairchilde agreed and began
discussing with Lady Darlington various particulars about the evening’s entertainment. Mr. Crocker stood
by with a long-suffering expression, agreeing whenever
he was applied to by his spouse. Mrs. Paddington took
perverse delight in suggesting that the diva be brought
in for one of their own entertainments, watching for Mr. Crocker’s look of horror and cackling when she
saw it.

Lord Darlington drew his obviously reluctant sister forward. “I believe you have something to say to Miss
Fairchilde, Lady Bethany,” he said sternly.

Lady Bethany cast an uncertain glance at Abby. “Well, I
do! Even if Abby doesn’t wish me to say it,” she said
with a hint of defiance. “I am very sorry for behaving
so childishly, Abby. I hope you may forgive me.”

Abby immediately held out her hands, exclaiming, “Oh, Lady Bethany! You have made me so very happy. Are
we friends again?”

Lady Bethany’s wary expression thawed and she laughed.
Ignoring Abby’s hands, she flung her arms around her in a quick embrace. As she released Abby, she said
eagerly, “Yes, oh, yes! I have been miserable without
you, you know. We used to talk about everything, and
I have no one else I can do that with. Dearest Abby, I
shall never be unkind to you again, I promise! Shall I
call on you tomorrow?”

“Of course! We shall have a comfortable coze,” said
Abby. A queer tightness in her chest had eased with Lady Bethany
’s apology. She realized with mild astonishment
that she had actually suffered from physical tension
since the falling out with her dearest friend.

“How delightful it will be! I shall come early, perhaps
ten o’clock,” said Lady Bethany with quick enthusiasm.

“No, you won’t. I am taking Miss Fairchilde driving
in the morning, Bethany, so you must wait until later
in the day to see her,” said Lord Darlington firmly.

“Well, really, Sylvan! When I have not seen Abby
for days and days and you have talked to her any
number of times, I daresay,” said Lady Bethany indignantly.

Abby laughed, even as Lord Darlington smiled his
own amusement. “Never mind, Bethany. You will come before tea and stay as long as you like.”

“That is a much better scheme,” said Lady Bethany with her swift mercurial smile.

Lady Darlington had turned during a lull in the con
versation and now said, “Have you made it up at last,
my dears? I am so glad. Abby, we have sorely missed
you these past days. Pray won’t you call on us one
day soon? I should like to visit with you.”

“Of course, my lady. I will certainly do so,” said
Abby, smiling.

“I am calling on Abby early tomorrow afternoon,
Mama. Do you wish to accompany me?” asked Lady Bethany.

“No, no. I shan’t go with you this time, Bethany,
for I know well you will wish to catch up with all your
chatter,” said Lady Darlington.

A general laugh ensued, and Mrs. Crocker said,
“How true, my lady! I, too, intend to leave them to
themselves. But will you not come to tea later?”

“I have a few errands to discharge first, but I shall
certainty attempt to come by,” said Lady Darlington.

“We should welcome your company, my lady,” said
Mrs. Fairchilde graciously.

Lord Fielding and another gentleman came up to
pay their respects to the ladies. Lord Fielding smiled
down at Abby, having retained her hand after their
greeting one another. “I see you are well, Miss Fair
childe. You appear delightful this evening. The pro
gram was exquisite, don’t you agree?”

“Quite, my lord,” said Abby, gently extracting her
hand from his lordship’s hold. She was acutely aware
of Lord Darlington’s presence as she exchanged pleas
antries with Lord Fielding.

Before many minutes passed, the Darlington party made their excuses and moved away to greet others of their acquaintance. Lady Bethany promised faithfully to call on
Abby no later than one o’clock. “I trust that Sylvan
will have you back home by then,’
1
she added gaily.

As Lady Bethany left, Lord Fielding turned to
Abby with raised brows. In a bantering tone, he said,
“What is this about Lord Darlington having you back?
I trust his lordship has not stolen a march on me.”
Lord Fielding chuckled at his own joke.

“Lord Darlington was kind enough to extend an
invitation to go driving,” said Abby, as discourag
ing as she could muster.

Lord Fielding shook his finger playfully. “Now, let
us have no ill will between us, Miss Fairchilde! If due
to that unfortunate interview between us, you have
felt unable to request
my
escort to go driving, put that
thought completely out of your head, I pray you. I
hold not the least animosity toward you. Indeed, I
am quite reconciled since our little spat. I trust you
also have gotten over your spleen, so that we may go
on as promisingly as before.”

Abby disbelievingly stared up at the gentleman’s smiling counte
nance. It struck her as plainly as though Lord Fielding
had said it. His lordship had not been deterred
one whit from his determination to make her his wife.
She felt somewhat helpless in the face of a stronger
personality. She had no inkling how she could discourage Lord Fielding’s suit without wounding his sensibil
ities. It was a puzzle she could not solve at just
that instant.

She shook her head. “I am not the least put about,
Lord Fielding, I assure you. Indeed, I—”

“Good! I shall naturally see you at Almack’s on
Wednesday. I pray you will reserve a quadrille for
me,” said Lord Fielding, bending over her hand again.
He turned almost at once to say good-bye to the
Crockers, Mrs. Fairchilde, and Mrs. Paddington.

“Well! Lord Fielding is in an excellent humor,” said
Mrs. Crocker, sliding a glance at her sister.

Abby was quick to put construction on her sister’s
observation and frowned. “Pray do not ascribe his
lordship’s humor to me, Melissa. I assure you that I have nothing to do with it, excellent or otherwise!”

“As you say, my dear,” murmured Mrs. Crocker.

“I understand there is a tidy dinner awaiting us at
Lady Malcolm’s,” interposed Mr. Crocker sug
gestively.

Mrs. Crocker laughed. “Very well, Peter! Let us be off, then. We must take leave of our hostess for an
excellent musicale, of course.”

“Of course,” said Mr. Crocker matter-of-factly. “It
goes without saying.” His spouse laughed again, for Mrs. Crocker was well aware of her husband’s aver
sion to musicales.