Midnight Bride (20 page)

"In the library, your lordship."
Dunstan's eyebrows rose. Quickly the man continued. "We arrived several hours ago. He has been waiting for your return."

As soon as Dunstan set foot in the library, his grandfather's barrage began. "How dare you embarrass me!" his grandfather said angrily. "You are the talk of the
toni"

Dunstan, who had been prepared to make his apologies,
stiffened,
a red tinge showing in his cheeks. "And it is nice to see you again, Grandfather."

"That will be quite enough from you, sir. I did not travel to town to be insulted by my heir."

"Why did you come?"

"You ask me that, you who are the center of gossip." The earl stood up, his blue eyes faded now but still almost as deep a blue as Dunstan's blazing under their droopy lids. He tilted his head back a little more so that he could see more clearly. "A little time in the country with your
fiancée
will give the
ton
a chance to forget your excesses," the old man said firmly as he walked toward the
bellpull
.

"Grandfather, I have
work
to do here." Then he stopped. His face grew stern. "What did you say?" Dunstan
asked,
his voice harsh.

"You will be spending time in the country."

"Not that part.
The other about my
fiancée!"
Dunstan glared at the older man, who let his eyelids almost cover his eyes.

"Marriage is just the answer. Get you settled down."

"And make me bored for life. No, Grandfather, I refuse. I am needed here."

"For what?
To bring ruin on yourself and me?
When you come to your senses, we will talk again." The older man stormed out of the room, leaving his grandson staring wordlessly after him.

During the next few days Dunstan avoided the earl as much as possible, a task made more difficult because his grandfather made a point of seeking him out. No matter how hard he had tried, Dunstan could not make his grandfather understand that what had happened would never happen again. As far as the older man was concerned, the only answer was a quick marriage to settle him down, a marriage to
Miss Cecile
Westin,
the
cherished granddaughter of his closest friend. And he was not willing to listen to any refusals.

Finally one Saturday after the earl had been hammering away at him all day, Dunstan exploded.
"Never!
I will never marry her!"

"You are just like your father, a wastrel," his grandfather shouted. Remembering his actions after he had received Elizabeth's latest refusal, Dunstan held his tongue, finding more truth in the statement than he would have admitted earlier. His silence angered the older man even more. "I suppose you will next tell me you have run off with an opera dancer," the earl had said bitingly.

"I promise I will never knowingly disgrace you," Dunstan finally said, stammering like a schoolboy in front of the headmaster.

"What does that mean, sir?" His grandfather had risen to stand behind him, his blue eyes boring into his back. Then more than ever before, Dunstan realized how the quarrel between his father and grandfather had begun.

He rose and turned to face the older man, marveling as he always did at the ramrod-stiff back and proud head tilted back so his grandfather could see under his droopy eyelids. "I promise that I will never behave again as I have done recently."

"And you will prove your love for me by marrying the girl I have picked out for you?"

"Just because I do not care to marry a girl over a decade younger than I
does
not mean I do not love you or respect you, Grandfather," he said quietly. The older man closed his eyes for a moment and then glared at him again. He started to speak, but Dunstan cut him off: "I want to choose my own wife."

"Choose your own wife? Well, I have not seen any evidence that you are doing much to find one." His grandfather pulled himself up even straighter. "And I doubt you will find one whose lands march as well with yours as this one's do."

"And lands are the only reason to marry, aren't they?" Dunstan turned his back and walked across the room to the fireplace, where a small blaze burned to eliminate the chill of the evening. He pulled the sleeves of his black evening coat down and straightened a fold in his cravat. Hearing his grandfather clearing his throat, Dunstan turned around, his eyes snapping. "According to you and my father, even lands could not make your marriage a happy one."

"I will thank you to keep a civil tongue in your head, sir. My marriage is no business of yours." His grandfather had crossed to the door and had a hand on the latch. "At least I had the good taste to choose a woman of quality. All you associate with are the bits of muslin
who
are out to line their pockets."

Dunstan said quietly, so quietly his grandfather had to strain to hear, "My wife will be quality. And my marriage will be my concern only." He waited breathlessly for a reply, but his grandfather glared at him once more, his head tilted back at its usual uncomfortable angle. Then the earl left the room silently. The next morning he left London without another word.

Dunstan's third letter arrived at the manor shortly after the coachman and groom returned from London with the carriage loaded with supplies. Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief. As soon as she had posted her answer, she had regretted it, certain that she would never hear from him again. Once again Elizabeth took one look at the handwriting and slipped away, her cheeks rosy. Louisa watched her thoughtfully, her eyes narrowed. She reached up and straightened her lace cap and followed her cousin, a letter from Lady
Ramsburg
in her hand.

She swept into Elizabeth's bedroom unannounced, taking in the sight of Elizabeth sitting there on the chaise, her hand tracing the lines of the signature. "Elizabeth, Charles's mother insists that we spend some time with her in Brighton this summer. She has already left London, pleading exhaustion, but I believe it was simply a chance to set up her household before everyone else arrives. I think we should go." Louisa watched her cousin closely.

Looking up, Elizabeth, surprised, jumped. "Did you want me for something, Cousin?"

"I just told you." Elizabeth blushed and looked at the letter in her hand again, her face softening. "Your stepmother insists that we join her in Brighton."

Her cousin looked up, smiling. "You go if you want. I plan to stay here. There are too many things for me to do here. Besides, most of our neighbors will be returning soon. They would think it strange if I did not entertain them in return for their hospitality this winter."

"You know that I will not go off and leave you alone here. What would people think?" Louisa sank down on the opposite end of the chaise. "I really believe the visit would do me a world of good."

"Of course it would. You go visit
Stepmama
, and I promise I will not entertain until you return," Elizabeth said, smiling not at Louisa but at the letter.

"No."

Startled, Elizabeth looked up. "But I will not be alone. Charles will be here."

"That is another problem. Lady
Ramsburg
suggests that he return as well. She had hoped that he would select a young lady as his wife during this Season. And she is most upset that he remained here with you." Louisa raised her eyebrows suggestively. "Do I need to remind you what happens when she is annoyed?"

Thinking of the schemes and plans she had been prey to during her second Season and the way she had been badgered until she agreed to return to town for her third, Elizabeth shook her head, dislodging the yellow bow that held her soft curls in place. She ran her hand over the skirt of the yellow muslin dress she wore, noting a grass stain at the hem her maid would fuss over. "
Stepmama
will not come here. She has not been here since I have made the manor my permanent home."

"Elizabeth, you know how determined she can be. If she decides to come, neither you nor I will dissuade her," Louisa said quietly, wondering if the last letter she had sent the lady had been too strongly worded. It would never do to force Elizabeth to Brighton against her will. "Of course, with most of the members of the government finding reasons to summer by the shore, she will probably be too busy to come very soon," she said, reassuringly. "But I advise you to think about the suggestion. It will be lonely here without Charles. And he will need to return to the
ton
soon."

When Louisa had gone, Elizabeth spread the letter from Dunstan out again, reading it word by word. This letter was different. In it Dunstan told her about his days, about where he had been and whom he had seen. He even told her about his grandfather and his demands. When she reached that part, it seemed to her that her heart stopped beating for a moment. Dunstan married? The thought brought her pain. She rose and laid the letter on her desk, not wanting to read another word in case he had written only to tell her that he had agreed to his grandfather's demands or had accepted her letter as her final word. She hurried out of the room. But before five minutes had passed, she was back. She picked up the letter, gritted her teeth, and turned it over. Then she sighed. He had told his grandfather he would choose his own wife. She took another deep breath. And he wanted her. She smiled. Once again she laid the letter on her desk and then walked to the chaise. When she rose later, she could not resist the impulse that led her back to where the letter lay. This time her hand lingered on it caressingly for a moment before she turned away to change for the evening, her manner so distracted that her maid wondered at her.

Her maid was not the only servant to wonder about the mistress of the manor. A chance remark by the groom and coachman who had gone to London caused a flurry of whispers in the stables. And before long the gossip had invaded the manor itself. It stopped whenever Jeffries or the housekeeper approached, leaving a gaping silence filled only with embarrassed coughs.

One afternoon Miller was hurrying down the back stairs, her arms filled with a soft pink muslin dress that needed to be pressed. Before she entered the kitchen, she heard two of the youngest maids talking. "I still say it weren't right of Miss Elizabeth to turn off Susan without a character for doing the same thing she was doing," said one.

"You heard
Georgie,
it was Susan who told him what she had seen—that Lord Dunstan sneaking out of the mistress's room." A pot clanked against a table. "Watch out; we don't want Cook screaming at us again," the girl scolded.

"Susan! I wonder why she bothered with
Georgie.
Course she was always sweet on him anyway. Tried to get him to marry her, I heard."

"Well, you heard wrong. Susan and I had plans, I tell you. She wouldn't get involved with no gent, no matter what they say."