Louise M. Gouge (18 page)

Chapter Twenty-Seven

A
nna held up her index finger, a silent plea to the footman to delay opening the door. The middle-aged man, whose distinguishing features were muted by his blue livery and white wig, gave her a brief nod. She could not avoid this next scene, dare she say
confrontation,
but she needed another moment to lift her petition to the only One who could help.
Lord, please—
But she had no idea what to pray. She nodded for the footman to open the door.

On trembling legs she walked across the polished floor, then onto the red-and-gold Persian carpet to reach a grouping of chairs and settees. Her eyes instinctively sought out Major Grenville, who rose to greet her. From his bemused expression, she guessed he knew nothing more than before.

“Come here, Miss Newfield.” Lady Greystone waved her to the chair beside her. Her use of “Miss” set Anna’s nerves tingling. Surely it could not be a bad thing.

“Oh, my, isn’t this fun?” Mrs. Parton, who sat on Lady Greystone’s other side, had been hidden from Anna’s view when she entered. What a welcome addition, for her cheerful disposition could brighten any room.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Parton.” Anna had no difficulty returning the merry lady’s smile. “Am I to suppose you refer to Lady Drayton’s astonishing revelation in regard to me?”

“Indeed I do refer to your, shall we say, revelation of elevation?” Her laughter rang throughout the large chamber.

Major Grenville chuckled, but whether he laughed over Mrs. Parton’s wordplay or her jovial manner Anna could not guess. Nevertheless, his laughter cheered her.

“Humph.” Lady Greystone eyed Anna critically. “We do not yet know if this is an elevation or a reason to keep your identity concealed.”

“My lady?” Anna’s pulse slowed.

“Mother, for goodness’ sake.” The major sat on the edge of his chair. “Keep us…keep Miss Newfield in suspense no longer.”

Anna sent him a grateful glance, but sudden fear froze out all other emotions.

“If you please, Edmond.” Lady Greystone clicked her tongue in an impatient sound. “Now, Newfield, I asked Mrs. Parton if she knew about—”

“Frances, do permit me to tell the tale.” Mrs. Parton’s voice conveyed no hint of what the “tale” held. Neither did the kind look she turned on Anna. “You see, my dear, like Frances, I was busy rearing children and rarely came to London during the time in question. But I do recall hearing about the…oh, let us not call it a scandal, more a bit of gossip at this point. Of the little I heard, one thing is certain. Sir Reginald was a baronet of some fortune.”

“Was?” Anna’s heart constricted.

“Yes. Gone these ten or so years.” Mrs. Parton gazed at her with sympathetic eyes.

“I see. Did he have other children?”
Have I an uncle or aunt? Anything, Lord, that I might not be alone.

Mrs. Parton shook her head. “Not that I am aware of, my dear.”

Anna’s eyes stung, but a glance at Major Grenville strengthened her resolve not to let her tears fall.

“And so you can see,” said Lady Greystone, “we must use discretion in discovering what sort of man this Sir Reginald was.”

“Indeed.” Mrs. Parton nodded vigorously and her tight curls bounced in agreement. “You must understand, my dear. If he had influential friends, his only daughter’s defiance of his wishes will not bode well for her offspring.”

“But perhaps he had no such friends.” Major Grenville stood and walked toward the hearth, then swung around to face the ladies. “Perhaps he was not highly regarded by the
ton.
If you have never heard of him, Mother, either good or bad, there is no reason Miss Newfield may not be accorded every respect due to the granddaughter of a baronet.” His dark eyes glinted with something Anna could only describe as fervor, and her heart bounced into her throat. What a grand barrister he would make.

“Do not be hasty, Edmond.” Lady Greystone also had a glint in her eye, and her lips twitched into something akin to a smile. “I shall discuss this with Greystone this evening and see if he knows anything about Sir Reginald. For now, what we have spoken about must not leave this room.”

Anna glanced around at the chamber’s three doors. Not a single footman stood within. “My lady, I fear it may be too late.”

“What?”

Her harsh tone set Anna back for a moment. “My lady’s maid seemed to know everything.”

“Oh!” Lady Greystone slammed her fist on the arm of her chair. “Bothersome servants. Can’t keep their mouths shut about matters that do not concern them. I should toss that one out in the street.”

Major Grenville snorted out a laugh. “And have her tell every lamppost in London what she’s heard?”

“Never mind, Frances.” Mrs. Parton patted Lady Greystone’s hand. Strangely, the viscountess permitted it. “Just have your housekeeper—she is reliable, I assume—have her explain to the entire staff what damage can be done to our dear Miss Newfield, should they gossip about this matter.”

She sent Anna a kind look, once again in every way such a contrast to Lady Greystone. The young woman coming to London to be Mrs. Parton’s companion could rest assured she would receive only kindness from her employer.

* * *

Edmond had been too busy thinking about Miss Newfield’s matter to consider anything else. But when he returned to his quarters to find Matthews diligently tending to his several changes of uniform, his own future loomed large in his thoughts.

“Tell me, Matthews.” Edmond dropped down on his reclining couch and grabbed a strawberry from a bowl on the side table. “If I were to resign my commission, would you be willing to change your title from batman to valet?” He bit into the fruit and its tangy sweetness exploded in his mouth. One could not enjoy such delights on the battlefield.

Matthews gave him a quizzical grin. “Indeed I would, sir. Me family’s here in London, and I don’t like to think of being so far away as America again.”

“Neither do I.” Edmond ate another strawberry. “Pray for me, then, that I find a sponsor at the Inns of Courts, or we will both be sailing for America soon.”

Matthews lifted one of Edmond’s spare boots and began to polish the already shining footwear. “So you’ve heard nothing from your uncle, sir?”

Edmond shook his head. “Greystone has sent letters every day, but still no answer.” Such neglect seemed discourteous and even irresponsible. Perhaps Uncle Grenville would not be a worthy sponsor after all, if he treated his clients as shabbily as he treated his own nephew, a peer of no little standing in Parliament.

“I’m sure you’ll hear soon, sir. Keep yer chin up.” Matthews winced. “Meaning no disrespect.”

Edmond chuckled. “Not at all. You may always speak your mind to me. I thank you for your encouragement.”

In the next few days, Mother and Greystone continued to make discreet inquiries regarding Miss Newfield’s grandfather, but discovered nothing outstanding. Greystone had expressed great delight over the possibility of her becoming Mother’s protégée, for he was deeply grateful for her help during his illness. But such good deeds would not be sufficient to assure her acceptance among the
haute ton.
Perverse though it was, Edmond hoped Sir Reginald turned out to be an overbearing scoundrel, perhaps a miser, whom Society regarded as unfair to his only child, whom all had proclaimed an extraordinary miss. That would bode well for Miss Newfield.

In the interim while they awaited the news, Edmond saw little of the lady who owned his heart, for Mother had ordered her a wardrobe and fittings took much of her time. When he did see her, Mother was always present. He could tolerate such conditions were he not so concerned that he would leave soon and would have failed to declare his love for Miss Newfield. But then, perhaps this was God’s way of protecting them both from broken hearts.

For surely, with Uncle Grenville ignoring him and Wellington coming to London any day, Edmond would soon be returning to a war he was no longer certain he believed in.

* * *

By Thursday Anna had suffered nearly all the fittings she could endure. Yet Lady Greystone seemed to have spared no expense to prepare her for tomorrow night’s ball. Anna did not wish to seem ungrateful. But having lived in the country all her life, she had never thought much about fashion or even what made one gown fashionable and another an object of scorn. And now her employer planned a small soiree to introduce her to several friends. Perhaps this was a test to see whether she deserved to attend Lady Drayton’s ball on Friday night. Throughout the week Lady Greystone had carefully observed her manners and corrected her more often than before. She also had instructed the butler to inform Anna if she made a mistake. Crawford’s corrections were always gently spoken and much appreciated.

Wearing a new silk gown that was more silver than grey, Anna descended the stairs to the drawing room, where Crawford stood at the door.

“You are to go right in, miss.” The elderly man gave her a slight bow. “No guests have arrived yet, but Lady Greystone and Major Grenville are there.”

“I thank you, Crawford.” Anna entered and quickly found the object of her interest.

As the major often had at the Lodge, he posted himself near the hearth, looking beyond handsome in his crimson jacket with its golden epaulets, his spotless white breeches and his shiny black boots. Tonight his dark brown hair framed his face in a Caesar curl, a new and charming look that added to his commanding appearance. Yet she longed to see him dressed in ordinary clothing, even a plain black suit, if that meant he could work at the occupation so dear to his heart. He caught her gaze and winked. Her heart jumped, then stilled. With him in the room, she would be able to calm her jangled nerves.

“Ah, there you are, Newfield.” Lady Greystone seemed to use the form of address that suited the moment, so perhaps she was ill-humored this evening. “Come in, come in. Now, have you practiced your manners as I instructed you?”

Anna curtseyed. “Yes, madam. Crawford has been most kind to advise me.”

“Very good.” She paced back and forth over the Persian carpet, tapping her fan against her left hand and studying tables, chairs and other furnishings with a critical eye.

What further evidence did Anna require to comprehend that her employer was also nervous about the evening? How she wished to offer a word of comfort, but such offerings had never been appreciated.

“Mrs. Parton,” Crawford announced.

The lady bustled across the room and embraced Lady Greystone. “Now, Frances, I forbid you to be nervous. Everyone will adore Miss Newfield.” She scurried over to Anna and patted her cheek. “My, my, dear girl, you look lovely. This gown is divine, yet absolutely proper for half-mourning. Well chosen.”

“I thank you, Mrs. Parton.” Anna’s heart warmed at the woman’s kindness. Two people would be for her tonight.

“Lord and Lady Blakemore.”

Lady Greystone’s other close friend and her husband entered and greeted the viscountess and the major. Lady Greystone summoned Anna with a gentle wave and presented her to her guests. The countess gave her a peck on the cheek and praised her appearance.

“Indeed, what a pretty little creature you are.” The earl, a short, rotund man with a rim of dull brown hair around his bald pate, nevertheless presented a dignified presence. “We shall suffer no shame in introducing you about town.”

Anna curtseyed. “I thank you, sir.”

“Lord Greystone and Mr. James Grenville.”

Lady Greystone gasped and turned away from the newcomers. “What is
he
doing here?” Her words came out on a hiss.

From where she stood, only Anna could see Lady Greystone’s anguished expression. So this was Uncle Grenville, come at last to see the major, and his presence deeply distressed the lady. Anna raised a quick prayer that her employer would not faint, as she seemed about to do.

Beyond her, Lord Greystone and his uncle greeted the others. Mr. Grenville was a fine-looking gentleman of medium height, yet bearing a strong resemblance to his three nephews. His full head of white hair was pulled back in a queue, a style most men eschewed these days. And he wore a blue jacket and tan breeches, contradicting her assumptions about the attire of a barrister. Best of all, he shared a hearty handshake with Major Grenville and clapped him on the shoulder as if he were an intimate friend. Anna’s heart lifted at the sight. According to the major, they had met only a few times during what he called his “unfortunate Season.” She had never pressed him to elaborate.

Lady Greystone now trembled and her eyes reddened, causing Anna no little alarm.

“Madam, please let me summon—”

“No.” She barely whispered the word, then pulled in a deep breath as if to steady herself. “Give me your arm, Miss Newfield.” She turned to face her guests, leaning upon Anna as if she were an ancient.

His blue eyes glinting in the candlelight, Mr. Grenville crossed the room and stopped before them. “Good evening, Frances.” The warmth in his voice hinted at a sincere fondness for the lady. “You look as beautiful as ever.” He bowed, took her free hand and kissed it, then did not release her.

“James.” Her voice broke. “You look well.”

He gazed at her for several moments, admiration shining from his eyes. Anna could hear Lady Greystone swallow hard. One would think these two were awkward young lovers who had yet to declare themselves. That thought shocked her.