Madcap Miss (24 page)

“
Heat prostration calls for plenty of liquids. Wine would do nicely,
”
she said, trying for a light air.

“
There was a mention of lemonade. Can I get you anything else
—
books, cards? Nothing is too good for my invalid daughter,
”
he added with a show of good humor he was far from feeling.

“
A smile?
”
she suggested in a coaxing way.

“
You ask too much. Rejected gentlemen are not expected to receive their refusal with a smile.
”
He gazed at her a moment, examining her as if for the last time.
“
But for you I shall make the effort,
”
he said in an uneven voice.

The effort was not successful. There was much of regret in it. His eyes lingered longer than was comfortable. For one wild moment Grace felt it possible that the offer had been made from the heart. But he had said, in so many words, it would be sensible and convenient and that Augusta needed a mother. The word love had not arisen. He felt sorry for her, that was all.

“
I
’
ll try to hurry Mulkins up,
”
he said. Then he bowed and turned to leave.

“
Whewett!
”
she called, for no reason but that she did not want him to leave. He looked over his shoulder, and she remembered something to ask him.
“
You said there was good news and bad. What was the good news? Was it that you would marry me?
”

“
That was not good news to you apparently. Neither was it what I meant. One item of some importance slipped my mind. Grandma has postponed your visit north. She is not up to entertaining a rambunctious youngster, poor old girl. The visit will never come. If she raises it at some future time, I
’
ll find an excuse.
”

“
That
’
s a relief.
”

“
Yes.
”
He left then.

Grace lay on the counterpane and puzzled over the visit. She had been so flustered at his proposal that she had forgotten all about going to Scotland. She knew he was serious about marrying her. Whewett would not joke about such a thing and would perhaps even take some pleasure from having her at Downsfield.

But it was not the pleasure normally associated with marriage that he wanted. It was not the same pleasure that she wanted. The most contrary thing of all was that if she had not stupidly gone falling in love with Whewett, she would marry him in a flash. So kind, so gentlemanly and considerate, yet not without humor and a sense of adventure. He would have been an ideal employer, but that was no longer enough. A week
’
s masquerade had shown her it was not a career she could undertake for life.

And if she married him, they would go on much as they had been doing, like father and daughter, or perhaps eventually brother and sister. No, it would never do. Perhaps once they were at Downsfield, constantly together, she could slowly insinuate herself into his heart. She would turn the conversation back to the subject when he brought her lunch.

Grace put on her brightest smile when the expected tap was heard on the door a few moments later, but it was only a servant holding her tray. Whewett would bring her a book or some cards
—
he was waiting till she had eaten, that
’
s all. Lady Healy came and sat for half an hour, first jawing about her
“
shameless spree,
”
then discussing the delayed visit. She returned again in the evening, and still Whewett had not been back.

When Lady Healy claimed she was as tired, as if she had been hunting all day and went to her bed, Grace decided to give Whewett a little surprise when he came to say good night. She would appear as an adult. She hastily changed into her own suit and arranged her coiffure as attractively as she could. The face staring back at her from her dim mirror was undeniably that of a fully mature lady, and a lady ready to do battle for what she wanted. Her chin was lifted high, her eyes sparkling, and her color brightened with excitement.

She heard him enter his room and flew from the mirror, like an assassin from the scene of his crime. He paced to and fro, talking to someone. That was why he delayed coming to her. Who could it be? An ear to the door told her it was only his valet. The voices stopped, and Grace hurried from the door, but still the expected tap did not come. When at last it was heard, Whewett did no more than peep his head in through the partially open door.

“
Is everything all right?
”
he asked.

Peeved with her long vigil, she answered sharply,
“
No, it is not all right. I have never had such a boring day in my life.
”

“
There is no need to stay cooped up tomorrow. Lady Healy and I will be busy all afternoon with Daugherty and Bronfman. You can go for a walk, or take a spin on the nag I hired from the inn. But don
’
t go into Wickfield. Why are you wearing that outfit?
”
he asked at last. It had taken him that long even to notice and that further goaded Grace.

“
I am tired with being a child.
”

“
It won
’
t be for much longer. Why don
’
t you go to bed now? It
’
s been a tiring day.
”

“
Aren
’
t you going to come in and talk to me? I
’
ve hardly seen a soul all day.
”

“
I
’
m in my dressing gown. I
’
m ready for bed,
”
he replied.
“
It is hardly an appropriate way to visit a lady.
”

“
You might have thought of that before you undressed.
”

There was no misreading that long indrawn sigh. It revealed boredom, just verging on impatience.
“
Is there something in particular you wish to discuss? I can get dressed, if
—”

Her pride prevented pushing the matter further.
“
No, nothing in particular. Nothing I cannot say to myself, or the doll, or the chair. Good night, Whewett. I hope you sleep well.
”

His fingers began drumming the doorjamb.
“
What is it? What is bothering you, Grace?
”

“
Never mind. You will want to get your twelve hours of sleep for the heavy exertion of watching Lady Healy sign the papers tomorrow.
”

A reluctant smile tugged at his harsh features.
“
When my daughter becomes cranky and ill-mannered, I turn her over my knee and give her a good whopping. I shall take my leave before I am tempted to do the same to you. Good night.
”

The door was quietly closed in her face, depriving her of the satisfaction of slamming it.
“
Don
’
t forget to put on the bolt,
”
she called in a last burst of annoyance.

There was no verbal reply but only the sound of sliding metal, which so inflamed her that she picked up a book and threw it at the closed door. And still he did not say anything.

Saturday was only slightly less tedious than Friday. Grace visited with Lady Healy, read her Bible and did not see a sign of Whewett till luncheon, when he treated her like a daughter. His conversation with Lady Healy revealed that he had done nothing more important that morning than sort through papers in various desks and drawers, as the house was sold furnished. He could have been with her if he had wanted to. In fact, she could have helped him. He was avoiding her.

When Bronfman and Daugherty came to close the deal in the afternoon, Grace had a ride through the park on Whewett
’
s hired nag. For a full year now she had been wanting to feel a horse under her, and it was strange that it gave her so little pleasure. In the end she cut the ride short, to be at the house as soon as the deal was closed. As Whewett had nothing else to do, he would be forced to spend some time with her, for civility
’
s sake.

He was sitting with Grandma in the Purple Saloon, which seemed as gloomy as a dungeon after her ride in the sunlight.
“
Augusta shall have a glass of wine with us to celebrate the sale,
”
Lady Healy decreed.
“
I wish I had seen you ride, Gussie. Keep your back straight but not stiff. Neither a reed nor a ramrod is wanted in the saddle. I was a famous horsewoman in my day. Most wild youngsters want to run away and be an actress.
”
Grace glanced at Whewett, but he was looking out the window.
“
For me it was Astley
’
s Circus. It was a great letdown when I finally saw it. I could have done better than any of them.
”

Grace sipped the wine, hiding her sulks to please the old lady.
“
We shall find a good mount for you when you come to Scotland,
”
Lady Healy continued.
“
And I shall enroll you in the Hunt, too. They shan
’
t see my five thousand if they don
’
t accept you.
”
She chattered on, monopolizing the conversation with no trouble, as the others found little to say.

Grace glanced at the mantel clock and looked hopefully at Whewett. There was time for a walk, if he would only drink up his wine. He reached out and filled his glass again. There was to be no privacy, then, no return to the subject of marriage. Grace was too disappointed to be very angry.

Lady Healy was hitting her stride in tales of the Hunt when the door knocker sounded.
“
Who can that be?
”
she scolded.
“
I did not advertise I was here. I want to remember my friends as they were, not see them sunk to old relicts like myself.
”

The groom-butler sauntered to the door and said,
“
There
’
s a woman here says she
’
s Lady Dewitt.
”

Grace
’
s face turned white, and she turned a wild  eye to Whewett, who looked much the way she felt. A pretty young matron dressed in the highest kick of fashion came prancing in, followed by a shy, pale young girl.

Lady Healy cast an offended frown on the interloper.
“
Who, pray tell, is Lady Dewitt?
”
she demanded.
“
Is she one of your women, Whewett?
”

The matron threw her head back and laughed in sheer astonishment.
“
Oho, you have changed, Alfred!
”
she said, shaking a finger at him.

“
This is my sister, Mary,
”
Whewett said in a strangled voice. He looked quite simply bewildered as his eyes darted in hopeless confusion from Lady Dewitt to the young girl, to Grace, and lastly to Lady Healy. Lady Dewitt performed a graceful curtsy.

“
Eh? I thought she lived in Ireland,
”
Lady Healy said.
“
Well, I
’
m very happy to make your acquaintance, Lady Dewitt. Is this your gel? Sickly looking creature. She wants fresh air and exercise.
”

Lady Dewitt raised her brows in her brother
’
s direction and replied,
“
Why no, this is Whewett
’
s daughter, ma
’
am. Say hello to your papa, my dear.
”

The pale girl gave one frightened look at Lady Healy before running forward to throw herself into Whewett
’
s arms. She burrowed her head into his shoulder as though to escape the frightening old lady.

His arms went around her protectively, tightening when Lady Healy rose to her feet in wrath. She clutched her blackthorn stick menacingly. Her lined face had turned an alarming shade of purple.
“
What
—
is
—
the
—
meaning
—
of
—
this!
”
she demanded in an awful voice.

Lady Dewitt stared, more fascinated than frightened at the spectacle she was witnessing. Grace felt as if she were in a nightmare. Her worst fear had come true. She was about to be revealed in all her tawdry shame, not only to Lady Healy, but to Whewett
’
s elegant sister and his daughter. Her eyes turned beseechingly to Whewett.

He kept his composure better than she dared to hope.
“
You heard the lady,
”
he said, addressing himself to Lady Healy.
“
This is my daughter. Make a curtsy to your grandmother, my dear.
”
He detached Augusta
’
s arms from around his neck.

Augusta, wide-eyed and trembling, made a brief, awkward curtsy, before returning to hold on to her father for dear life.

Grace sat numb with apprehension, waiting for the blow to fall. On top of everything else she felt in her bones that Lady Dewitt was not at all the sort of employer she wanted or who would want her. She had imagined Mary as a pleasant, comfortable lady, rather like Whewett. What the outcome of it all would be she could not even imagine, but the blackthorn across her back certainly featured in it. She was every bit as apprehensive as poor Gussie, cowering against her father. Whewett had been correct not to bring the child here.

“
You ought to be ashamed of yourself,
”
Lady Healy ranted. The brunt of her wrath was directed at Whewett.
“
Bringing your by-blow into a decent house, scandalizing your own daughter
—
and me!
And
you,
I take leave to tell you, Lady Dewitt, have no more sense than a peagoose. Come with me, Augusta. When we return, we shall expect to find the saloon empty. Good day.
”