Louise M. Gouge (15 page)

“How delightful.” Mrs. Parton giggled. “Now when will that boy marry?”

“More important, whom?” Lady Blakemore chuckled in a deep, alto tone.

Lady Greystone grinned as if she had just won a hand of whist. “You will be surprised to know he has given me permission to find him a bride.”

“What?” Both ladies were all astonishment, while Anna swallowed a gasp. But then, Lord Greystone enjoyed a much closer relationship with his mother than Major Grenville did, a sad state of affairs, to Anna’s way of thinking. Her own parents had shown no such partiality between her and Peter.

“My son would never permit me that honor,” Mrs. Parton said.

“Nor mine,” added Lady Blakemore. “My daughter was another matter. She was thrilled with my choice.”

“Humph. What young lady would ever decline a duke’s proposal?” Lady Greystone sipped her tea. “Or a viscount’s.” The unmistakable bitterness in her tone put Anna’s instincts on alert.

“There, there, Frances.” Mrs. Parton patted her hand. “God was merciful in delivering you from your husband’s—” she opened her fan and fluttered it before her face “—his harsh expectations.”

Lady Greystone glanced at Anna and for the briefest moment, vulnerability filled her eyes.

Anna forced all signs of emotion from her face and spoke with disinterested deference. “More tea, my lady?” She reached out to the viscountess.

Was that a hint of appreciation in the lady’s eyes as she handed over her teacup? Anna tried not to place too much hope in the notion. Yet Lady Greystone seemed to be changing, at least in the presence of her friends.

“Now, Grace.” Mrs. Parton folded her fan and pointed it toward Anna as if eager to change the subject. “You see this pretty young companion Frances has hired. Well, I have hired a companion who will arrive in a few weeks. When will you find someone to keep you company?”

“A companion? Ha.” Lady Blakemore shook her head. “I rarely require anyone else’s company other than you two dears and my husband.” She rolled her eyes. “Blakemore is forever wanting me to attend this or that function with him. Balls, the opera, even sessions of Parliament.”

Mrs. Parton chortled in her merry way. Anna could hardly contain her shock upon hearing Lady Greystone emit a laugh that, though sounding feminine, held a similar cadence to Major Grenville’s masculine chuckle. That was twice the viscountess had laughed in less than ten minutes.

“Ah, well,” Mrs. Parton said. “I miss my dear Frederick, but I cannot lie. Having my own money and making my own decisions is a wonderful freedom to possess.”

“Indeed.” Lady Greystone took a sip of her tea. “I could not agree more.”

“Yes, well.” Lady Blakemore gave a weary sigh. “You both forget how it is to have a husband.” She gasped, and her gaze flew to Lady Greystone. “Oh, Frances, forgive me.”

Lady Greystone shrugged. “It has been many years, Grace. The pain has healed.”

Anna’s eyes stung, but she dared not let her tears fall. Yet, in these few words, so many things became clear. Months ago, Lady Greystone had mentioned her father’s indifference toward her. Now this revelation of a cruel husband. Having had no say in her own life as a young woman, no wonder the lady ruled her sons and her servants with a heavy hand.

As Anna had done many times since becoming a part of the viscountess’s household, she thanked the Lord for her own upbringing. Her mother had been a model of gentility.
Papá
had tried to emulate their heavenly Father in every way. Now that Anna understood the deficiencies in her employer’s upbringing, she would endeavor not to be hurt by her severity. She would continue to pray for her. And perhaps, if the Lord gave her the opportunity, she would tell dear Major Grenville about the causes of his mother’s unhappiness. As the bishop had said just that morning in his homily, when one understands what someone else has endured, one can forgive that person many offenses.

Chapter Twenty-Four

D
espite the enticing aroma of freshly baked bread, Anna hesitated in the breakfast room doorway. Only Major Grenville sat at the table, and Lady Greystone might object, should she find them without a chaperone. Still, the viscountess tended to rise later in the city, so would no doubt linger abed for another hour. Anna glanced at the footman holding the door for her. His slight nod gave her courage.

“I thank you, John.” She walked to the breakfast buffet to fill her plate.

“Good morning, Miss Newfield.” Major Grenville stood while she completed the task.

“Good morning, Major.” She chose a chair across from him, the better to memorize his well-formed features for the miniature she was painting. He still wore a hint of the glow she’d noticed on his face during yesterday’s worship service. She hoped to capture that expression, for it seemed to reveal the gentleman’s heart. In fact, she could not avert her eyes.

His smile broadened. “Do I have egg on my face?”

Her cheeks warmed, but only briefly. After all, when did he speak to her without jesting? But if his intention was to prevent her from forming an attachment to him, he was using the wrong tactic. “Only a little. ’Tis the jam that concerns me.”

He quickly dabbed his lips, glanced at the spotless serviette, then chuckled. “Very droll. You are learning.”

“Humph.” She did her best to sound like Lady Greystone. “I am a master of jests. Growing up with Peter, I had to be or suffer endless torment.” Thoughts of her brother diminished her merry mood, so she must find a safer topic. “Has Parliament begun?”

“Ah, you want to know where Greystone is. Should I be jealous?” He smirked and arched his dark eyebrows.

Her heart jumped and all humor fled. “Why, I…” Now her face flamed in earnest. She stared down at her plate and cut into a juicy sausage, but could not eat it. Surely the major knew that some subjects were unsuitable.

“Forgive me.” He gave her a rueful frown. “To answer your question, no, Parliament will not convene until Tuesday next.”

“I see.”

They ate in silence for several minutes, a silence so heavy that Anna could not resist trying to recapture the light mood they’d enjoyed moments earlier.

“Actually, I should like to introduce a bill in the House of Lords.”

Major Grenville pretended to choke and coughed artificially, waving his serviette dramatically. “Why, madam, I am all astonishment. A lady interested in politics. What a wonder. May I ask what this bill concerns?”

Now she was caught. She knew nothing of London and after four days did not yet have a grievance against the city. In truth, when she was with the major she found very little to complain about. Only one matter came to mind to rescue her from her absurd statement.

“Perhaps you noticed this past winter’s extreme cold.” When he shuddered in his comical way, she had difficulty not laughing. “Well, I should like to have it designated a crime against the Crown—and all English citizens, of course—to repeat such severe temperatures for at least another century.”

His expression sobered. Almost. The twinkle in his eyes gave him away. “Madam, that is a brilliant idea. I shall ask Greystone to see to it as soon as Parliament reconvenes.”

“A law about the weather? What utter nonsense.” Lady Greystone strode into the room. “What silly babble.” Taking her place at the table, she ordered a footman to bring her breakfast. “Where is my mail?” She whipped her hand in the air to summon Crawford, who stood by the door.

Anna cringed, but the feeling quickly fled. The exchange with the major had ended well, and memories of his good humor would stay with her long after he left to resume his military service.

* * *

His heart light, Edmond would have been tempted to answer Mother with an impudent retort had she not moved on to another topic. Fortunately, she had not entered the room during that uncomfortable silence. Just as fortunate that he and Miss Newfield had already mended their small rift, which of course was all his fault. He knew better than to tease Miss Newfield about such matters. Further, if that was the sum of their discord, he was once again confident they would make a happy marriage. Despite the uncertainties about his future, he could not dismiss his hopes of winning her hand.

Even after his close communion with the Almighty yesterday, he wished he could march out of the house today and solve this dilemma. Against all that Mother thought, he was a man of action and found it utterly wretched that he must wait upon others for a solution. Wait upon Greystone to speak for him. Wait upon Uncle Grenville to grant him an audience. Wait upon Mother to be out of the room so he could speak as he wished to the lady he adored. How he yearned to be the master of his own future, but alas, life simply would not comply with that longing. All the more reason to petition Uncle Grenville to see him as soon as possible.

“Good news!” Greystone burst through the door waving a broadsheet. “Napoleon has been defeated! The war has ended.”

“Huzzah!” Edmond rose to his feet in exultation. “What a great day for England and all of Europe.”

“Praise God,” Miss Newfield whispered.

“Well, it certainly took long enough.” Mother thumbed through the mail Crawford had brought her.

“But it’s done at last.” Greystone waved away the footman and snatched up a plate to fill. On the way to the table, he picked up a sausage and bit into it.

As Edmond returned to his seat, he noticed Mother did not correct his brother’s manners, something he never escaped, even as a grown man.

“Well, Edmond.” Mother’s forehead creased with worry. “Now you must make all haste to return to your duties.”

“Madam?” He could only imagine where her logic was leading, and his exultation over the defeat of Napoleon died away.

“Why must I explain everything to you?” She glared at him as if he were a simpleton. “When our officers return home from the Continent, they will clamor for positions in the American war. You must seize your chance to gain a place of leadership before then.”

Alarm spread over Miss Newfield’s fair face, confirming her regard for him. Edmond swallowed to dislodge the lump in his chest, to no avail.

“Now, Mother.” Greystone’s suddenly lazy tone ignited a thread of hope. “Edmond has no need to rush.”

“Of course he does—”

Greystone held up one hand to silence her. To Edmond’s surprise, she stopped speaking.

“I am not without influence.” Greystone covered his lips as if stifling a yawn. “If there are positions to be had, I can arrange, oh, something or other.” He turned to Edmond, his face exuding boredom. “I fear I’ve grown used to having you around. Are you all that eager to be away?”

Edmond stilled his pounding pulse. “Not so eager that I would thwart any political maneuvering that would benefit you.”

Greystone’s eyes flickered, another sign that he had some plan. “Yes, this is just the sort of thing one uses to gain friends.”

“Well.” Mother gave a sniff of indignation. “It will do no harm for me to use
my
influence in this matter.” She speared Edmond with a rapier-like stare. “This afternoon, we will take a ride in Hyde Park to see who is in town. Then you must accompany me to the theater. The balls will begin as soon as Holy Week is over, and I shall take you to Almack’s two weeks from Wednesday.”

“As you wish, madam.”

Edmond’s emotions wavered between despair and hope. Mother did not seem to realize that her favorite son was battling her for control of Edmond’s future. Yet when—or if—Greystone won, he would hand the reins over to Edmond, trusting him not to bring shame upon the family as he once had. Respect and affection for his eldest brother filled his chest. As Edmond had experienced in the army, this was the stuff of leadership. Perhaps Greystone would bring enough fame to the family to satisfy their mother.

He tried to recapture yesterday’s attitude of surrender to God’s will, but could only repeat
Not my will, but Thine be done.
When no great rapture lifted his spirits as before, he added,
Lord, I believe. Help Thou mine unbelief.

* * *

Although the April breeze found a way to slip beneath her riding cape, Anna attributed the pleasant shivers sliding up her back to Major Grenville’s hands at her waist. With little effort he lifted her into the saddle, always an exhilarating experience that left her breathless for several moments. How she would miss riding with him when he left.

“I did not expect to go on this expedition.” Anna settled herself and grasped Bella’s reins. “I wonder why Lady Greystone insisted.”

He eyed the front door of the town house. “I have observed,” he muttered, “that Mother always enjoys leading an entourage.” Guilt flickered in his eyes. “Forgive me. I should not criticize her.”

“You speak from your heart, sir.” Anna often squelched less than charitable thoughts about her employer, trying to turn judgment into prayers for the lady’s happiness. She glanced at the liveried groom who stood several yards away with Lady Greystone’s mare, then bent down to whisper to the major. “Your words will go no further.”

“I know. You are the soul of discretion.” His gaze lingered on her and a slight smile crept over his lips.

Anna’s heart warmed. She could no longer deny that her feelings for this gentleman were past redeeming. She did love him. But of course she could never hope to go beyond admiring him from a distance. Still, in these moments when he seemed also to have deep feelings for her, she permitted herself to bask in his gaze like a morning glory opening to the sunlight.

The front door swung open with a whoosh. The major stepped away from Anna and reached out to Lady Greystone as she descended the marble steps. “A fine day for riding, is it not, Mother?”

“We shall see how pleasant it is.” She submitted to his assistance in mounting the chestnut mare. “It will depend upon who is in the park today.”

As he walked to his own horse, Anna noticed his clenched jaw. He must be wrestling with some weighty matter, though she could not guess what. Her heart ached for him. How she longed to be the one to help him.

With Anna, the major and the groom following behind her, Lady Greystone set a leisurely pace for their westward ride to Hyde Park. The streets did not seem as crowded as when they arrived the week before, but Anna had to use all of her newly acquired skill to wend her way around carriages, carts and pedestrians. Once or twice, Major Grenville reined up beside her to lead Bella away from a fruit cart or some lady’s bonnet, but Anna managed to control her most of the time.

At last they arrived at the park, or rather, the open meadow. Anna surveyed the scene. A narrow river rippled by on one side, with trees and clusters of shrubbery filling its banks. Roads meandered in all directions, leading to no apparent destination. Although Anna glimpsed a few random wildflowers, she was a little disappointed not to find formal flowerbeds blooming along the pathways. For the most part, the odors of horseflesh and leather filled her senses. But she could not wish herself any other place in the world, for there was much to see and the company was incomparable.

Numerous carriages of different shapes and sizes drove around the park, with finely dressed occupants calling out to acquaintances as they passed. Lady Greystone acknowledged the greetings of friends, but did not stop to chat. Wearing a dark rose riding habit with a matching hat, the lady sat elegantly upon her horse. Anna could see that Major Grenville had been too kind as her teacher, for he had neglected to correct her posture. She did her best to emulate Lady Greystone’s regal bearing so as not to disgrace her. Still, when the viscountess increased her pace to a trot, Anna had no difficulty following.

Behind her, the major shouted, “Good show, Miss Newfield.”

His praise hit its mark, so she abandoned herself to enjoying the day. She hoped Lady Greystone was also having a pleasant time. After observing her with her friends, Anna concluded that she surely must prefer London over Greystone Lodge.

Soon the viscountess slowed her horse and beckoned to Major Grenville.

He rode around Anna, giving her a nod, and approached the lady. “Madam?”

“I see the Marchioness of Drayton’s barouche across the park. Her younger son is attached to Wellington in some way or another, so that is an advantage I must press for you. I shall ride ahead to detain her. You will follow with Newfield. We must make it look like an accidental meeting.”

“As you wish.” His jaw clenched as it had earlier. How hard this must be for him.

Anna reined Bella to follow the viscountess, but the mare faltered briefly, then limped with each step. Alarmed for the poor beast, Anna pulled her to a stop and cried out, “My lady.”

Lady Greystone pulled her horse around. “What?” Impatience resounded in her tone as she rode back to Anna.

“What is it, Miss Newfield?” The major’s gentler voice softened Anna’s unease.

“Bella is limping.”

The groom dismounted and examined Bella for injury, coming at last to the left front hoof. “My lady, she’s picked up a stone.” He wore a pained expression. “As it’s bleeding, may I suggest I should take her back to the mews?”

“Yes, of course,” the viscountess said.

“She must not be ridden.” Major Grenville dismounted and lifted Anna down.