Midnight Bride (43 page)

Charles took the young girl's hand as though he were handling the rarest Venetian glass. "Miss Westin," he said softly as though he were afraid a noise might cause her to disappear.

"Mr.
Beckworth
." They stared into each other's eyes for a moment, only breaking the gaze when they realized that the room had fallen silent around them. "Do you plan to stay long, Mr.
Beckworth
?"
Cecile
asked, trying to make her voice sound unconcerned.

"Until it is time to leave for the holidays.
We will be going to my mother's and stepfather's. You, Dunstan, and the earl will be accompanying me, won't you, Elizabeth?" He took his eyes off the angelic vision before him to look at his sister. "You have not changed your mind?"

She looked over at Dunstan, her glance cool, and assured him they had not. Then she watched as Charles led
Cecile
to a chair and carefully seated her. "Do something, Dunstan," she whispered as she watched her brother take a seat nearby the vision.

"What? Charles will have to handle this himself," he said, laughing.

"But what will Mama say?"

"If you can arrange this match, she will probably give you her blessing," he reminded her.

"But he can't moon at her like that. We do not want another scandal." She glared at her husband, upset but not wanting anyone to notice her agitation.

"Plan some outings. Go to Wells shopping for Christmas trinkets. Let them help you plan the party for the tenants. Since, we will be going to your
mother's,
we will need to have it before we leave. You will think of something."

And you will find some excuse to leave again, she thought.

But Elizabeth rallied. Enlisting the aid of her housekeeper, Cecile's grandmother, and the mothers of several of the other young ladies in the area, she took them shopping in Wells.

The caravan left early one morning. Elizabeth drove in her carriage with her brother and the Westins. Three other carriages followed with a mixed party in each. After a day of inspecting the shops and a luncheon in the private parlor of an inn, they came back by moonlight to Clarendon Hall for a late supper. From the notes of thanks she received from the young ladies and gentlemen involved as well as their mothers, she was an inspired hostess.

"And all I did was walk around with Mrs. Westin, two steps behind Charles and
Cecile.
I did order most of what we need for the party. It will be delivered next week," Elizabeth told Dunstan. She was sitting on the chaise, rubbing one foot.

"If you wear yourself to a nubbin, I will be upset. You need to spend more time with me," he complained.

"You are the one who is always gone. I should be the one complaining. You told me to arrange this expedition; I would never have thought of it," she reminded him. "Then you leave on business." Her voice was edged with bitterness. "What are you doing when you are gone? And what kind of business is it?" she demanded. The sharpness of her voice was in contrast with the smile on her face. Dunstan had her foot in his hand and was scrubbing it soothingly. At least it began that way. The he kissed her instep, sending shivers up her leg. "Dunstan," she protested, not willing to release her anger.

"Hmmm?"
His kisses continued up her leg.

"It is almost time to go down for dinner. Dunstan," she breathed huskily, pulling her foot away. "Besides, you have not
answered
my question
. "
What kind of business are you spending your time—our time—on?"

He got up and turned the key in the lock of the door. "Do we have to discuss it now? I have something else in mind," he said as he pulled her close to him and refused to let her go.

The Christmas season that year was the most exciting time the country had seen in many years. Each hostess tried to top the previous one. The Westins, reviving an old family custom, invited everyone, old and young alike, to make plum puddings. They had warned everyone in their little group to wear old clothes or at least ones that could be washed. Invading the kitchens, everyone in the group took a turn stirring their own puddings. Laughing, each family added their special trinkets as well as fruit. Dunstan held up the small golden ring before he threw it into the bowl. "Whoever finds this in the pudding will not be unmarried this time next year," he said loudly.
Cecile
blushed and bent her head over her own bowl. Charles rushed to offer his help. Even Elizabeth managed a laugh.

Through skating parties and informal dances, Elizabeth and Dunstan watched as Charles devoted himself to
Cecile.
His attentions finally grew so pointed that Elizabeth sent for him. "What are your intentions, Charles?"

"What do you mean?"

"What game are you playing with
Cecile,
Charles? I warn you that if you hurt her, her grandfather will see you in
Newgate
if he can."

"Hurt her? I plan to marry her, Little Bit." Charles sat down on those words, startled himself.

"Then you already have her grandfather's permission to address her?" his sister asked when she regained her breath.

"No." He stood up and took a turn around the room. "I will. But
Cecile
is afraid that if I ask his permission now, he will not take her to London for the Season."

"You have already spoken to
Cecile?"

"Not really. We were talking after that redheaded girl and her
fiancé
announced their engagement. That is when
Cecile
told me."

"Does she know you plan to make her an offer?" Elizabeth asked directly.

"Yes. I am certain Mama will love her as much as I do."

"And what about her grandfather?
Charles, she is only seventeen."

"Oh, I don't intend that we should marry immediately. We both agree we are too young for that.
Cecile
wants a Season or two, and I still want my commission." He sat down and smiled at her as if expecting that she would agree with everything he said.

Elizabeth bit her tongue to keep the angry words from spilling out. That night when she and Dunstan were alone, she was not as reticent. "They plan to go on enjoying life day by day, never worrying about tomorrow. Robert, he sat there and told me they have an arrangement. But they do not plan to marry for a year or two.
A year or two.
It will never work."

"Elizabeth, Mr. Westin may well refuse the offer. He has told me many times that the reasons he chose me for his granddaughter were my land and my title."

"How humbling for you."
She glared at him. "But Charles has land and money in his own right."

"All of it miles from here.
Her grandparents are not willing to let her go that far. You are worrying for nothing." He pulled her into his arms. "We will be leaving for Christmas with your stepmother very soon. If the attraction between them lasts until the Season, then we will worry." He took the brush from her hand and laid it on her table. "Aren't you wearing too many clothes?"

Although Elizabeth did not refuse him, there was something missing that night. As they lay on their sides, their backs carefully turned to each
other,
both wondered what was going wrong. Determined to hide their uneasiness from others, they put on their smiles the next morning. Only the very observant could tell those smiles rarely reached their eyes.

At the Christmas festivities at the
Ramsburg
estate, Charles was once again the despair of his mother. "Should I tell her, Robert?" Elizabeth asked as she put the emerald pendant that had been his gift to her about her neck, thinking not for the first time that he must care for her because he had chosen his gift so carefully. "She is trying so hard."

"And enjoying playing matchmaker so much.
I heard her tell my grandfather that she was certain that I was the perfect husband for you the first time she met me." He laughed. "The look she had in her eyes that first day in Brighton told me differently. Had there been any other honorable solution to our situation, she would have refused my suit and had me thrown out."

"Mama?"

"Your stepmother is made of stern stuff, my dear. Cousin Louisa, however, saw nothing but the romance."

"Perhaps I should drop a hint or two," Elizabeth suggested.
"Something to prepare the way."
He bent to kiss her, but she pulled away slightly so that his kiss landed in her hair.

"You know your stepmother better than I. Do what you wish, my dear," he said as he stepped back, frowning. During the last few weeks she had pulled away from him more than once. Hiding his anger and doubt, he took her arm and led her to the group assembled below.

When they entered the room, Louisa sighed. "Is there something wrong, Mrs.
Beckworth
?" the earl asked solicitously. Since his arrival he had gravitated toward her whenever he could. And Louisa with her kind heart found him quite distinguished no matter how her cousin objected.

"But you can never tell what he is thinking," Lady
Ramsburg
had protested. "He seems so secretive."

"That is one problem he cannot help. Think how restricting his problem must be.
And so uncomfortable to hold his head at that angle all day.
Maybe that is why he is occasionally out of sorts."

"George is trying to persuade him to take his seat in the House of Lords. He says the earl has the best mind for grasping facts that he has ever seen."

With these memories fresh, Louisa smiled sweetly at the earl. "I am so pleased that Elizabeth and Dunstan are so happy together."

"How can you tell?" he asked. Elizabeth always seemed to be so stiff around him, her face blank.

"When he enters the room, have you seen him look around until he finds her? And she does the same. They are in love."