Midnight Bride (46 page)

"I can hardly wait to tell my grandmother," the young girl said with a rush.

"Tell her what, minx?" the earl asked as he walked into the room. "Should I warn her?"

Quickly
Cecile
explained the idea, taking his arm. "Do you think she will agree?"

"What I know is that tea will be served almost immediately. I told my butler to see to it directly." The earl smiled and sat beside Elizabeth on the settee. "You ladies have had enough time to talk. We gentlemen demand equal time."

"Elizabeth, do you know what Charles's favorite color is?"
Cecile
asked.

"Anything that
Cecile
wears," Dunstan said in Elizabeth's ear. "Or should we give her more ammunition against him?"

Despite what Charles had said, Elizabeth had her doubts about her brother's success in that quarter. How could someone prefer Charles to Dunstan? She glanced at her husband, noting the way his riding breeches hugged his body. Since he was married, perhaps
Cecile
was willing to accept Charles after all. Elizabeth admitted that the two young people had been immediately drawn to each other.

Late that afternoon, Elizabeth was once more immersed in lists. After her meeting with Mrs. Finch, she had decided to take some of the supplies that were so plentiful in the country with her to town. The extra household meant that more animals would need to be slaughtered. She was frowning at the list in front of her when the earl came in. He took a seat and watched as she went on with her planning, oblivious to his presence. When at last she finished and rose to go, she stopped, startled.

"I did not mean to frighten you, my dear," the earl said softly as he took in the picture she made in her jade green kerseymere dress trimmed in white velvet.

"It is I who should apologize. Did you want me, my lord?"

He crossed to her side and took her hand, wanting to reassure her, to tell her of his support, to make her more secure. He had watched the circles under her eyes grow larger. And even though they had begun to disappear in the last few days, he had finally decided to have a talk with both of them. Elizabeth, unsure of herself, dropped her eyes. "Yes. We need to have a talk, my dear. Sit down beside me here." Hesitantly, wondering what had caused him to seek her out, Elizabeth sat down on the settee. "Elizabeth, I owe you an apology." She looked up in surprise. "No, do not try to deny it. I have been less than welcoming to you, my dear." She blushed but said nothing. "Yes, well, old men are sometimes reluctant to admit that their ideas are not the best ones."

"What do you mean, my lord?" she
asked,
her voice very soft.

"I mean that
Cecile
is a brainless flirt who would have driven Robert mad in a year. You, however, are just what he needs." She blushed and then turned pale, not certain she agreed with him. "When he brought you home as his bride, he was happier than I had ever
see
him. And you are the reason. No, do not deny it.
My dear, welcome to the family."

He held out his hand to her. She took it and held it within hers for a few moments, her heart racing with happiness at his words and yet aching with sadness too because she knew that first happiness had been lost. Emotion filled her throat, keeping her from speaking. "Now, do you suppose that you could call me Grandfather as Robert does?" He held out his arms, and she flew into them, her tears running down her cheeks faster than she could brush them away.

That evening as she told Dunstan what had happened, she cried again. "What is wrong?" he asked, taking her in his arms and patting her tenderly.

She simply shook her head and cried harder. Dunstan continued to hold her until her tears ceased. Handing her a handkerchief, he watched as she dried her cheeks and blew her nose. "Tell me why you are crying," he said, using a dry edge of the handkerchief to wipe her tears away. She held him tighter, buried her face in his shoulder, and refused to speak. He simply held her.

In the next few days Dunstan rejoiced as Elizabeth turned to him more naturally, their problems less apparent. As she relaxed, she could laugh at
Cecile,
flirt with her husband. Then Charles's letter arrived. The rumors were true. He had written to both his mother and his sister. His commission had been approved, and he was to take his place with his regiment.

As much as the news worried Elizabeth, when
Cecile
found out, she was a virago. "He knew that he had bought this commission when he was here before Christmas?" she asked, her face much redder than usual. At Elizabeth's nod, she went pale. She closed her eyes for a moment. "How does one become an
imcomparable
?" she asked when she opened them.

"Cecile,
are you all right? Do you wish smelling salts?" Elizabeth
asked,
her hand on the younger girl's shoulder.
Cecile
shook her head. She sat down, smoothing the soft pale blue velvet riding habit she was wearing as though she were petting a cat. "Is this a surprise to you?"

"When we discussed the future, Charles mentioned buying a commission. But the boys around here do that all the time. I thought he was merely trying to impress me. How can he court me if he is in the Horse Guards? He will be sent to fight Boney and I will never see him again." Her voice was tragic in its intensity. "When will he be posted to the Peninsula?"

"Not before the start of the Season," Dunstan said in a soothing voice. "Any dances you have promised to him he will be there to claim."

"If I choose to give them to him.
I shall have to make my plans more carefully now,"
Cecile
said, the light of battle in her eyes.

"Do not do anything rash," Elizabeth cautioned. "Do you wish to send Charles any word when I write him?"

"No." Then she paused, her mouth set in a straight line. "Yes. Mention that I was surprised. Also tell him that I have decided to find someone who will be closer at hand to promise my dances to."

Elizabeth added other remarks to Cecile's and sent the letter to Charles, wishing that he were not so far away. "You would have boxed his ears had you been in the same house, Elizabeth," Dunstan reminded her. "And do not
teli
me again how young he is. Let your mother worry about him. You worry about me." She smiled and nodded her head, but his words triggered new anxiety. What had he done? Why should she worry about him?

Her mother too was in tears. But Lady
Ramsburg
in tears was a formidable individual. Recognizing the futility of persuading Charles to sell out, she took another route. Back in London, she began giving dinner parties, including as her guests a diversity that had not been seen before, adding the military to her select guest lists.

"Robert, listen to this," Elizabeth said in an excited voice late one winter afternoon. "And he listened and agreed. Charles, as the heir to two titles, not one, had no business on the battlefield, not without heirs. He promised to make certain that Charles was assigned to London.'
" She
smiled at Dunstan. "Isn't it wonderful?"

"I am not certain Charles will think so. Does she plan to tell him? Your brother may be very angry with her meddling," Dunstan said as he pulled Elizabeth onto his lap. "Did she send any other news?" Elizabeth shook her head, deliberately omitting her stepmother's constant references to her desire for a grandchild. To Elizabeth's regret that dream was no closer to coming true. He pulled her head down for a kiss, banishing all thought of either her mother or Charles. Their kisses deepened.

Then the door to the library flew open.
Cecile
burst in. She came to a complete halt, her eyes wide. Elizabeth, her face as red as the ruby she was wearing, tried to get up, but Dunstan would not let her.

"Did you knock?" he asked
Cecile,
his voice cold and angry. She shook her head. "Then, perhaps you should leave."

Meekly the young girl turned. Then she swung around again. "How delightfully comfortable that looks. Will I be able to try it?"

"Not until you find your own husband," Elizabeth said as coolly as she possibly could, smothering the giggles she felt would overcome her in a moment.

"Good-bye,
Cecile,"
Dunstan said pointedly. "Come again when you have learned some manners." Slightly abashed, she left the room. Almost before the door had closed behind her, Dunstan had his lips against Elizabeth's, but she could not help giggling. "Did you see her face?"

"Who would care? We are in the privacy of our own home, and she was the one who showed poor manners."

"You do not understand country society if you believe that," Elizabeth said as she wrapped her arms about his neck again. Before the first kiss ended, a knock sounded on the door. "Come," Elizabeth called from her safe position on the settee. She smoothed her wrinkled skirts as best she could. Dunstan snorted and turned his back in disgust.

"Good, you are still here,"
Cecile
said as she walked into the room. Dunstan threw up his hands and left the room muttering under his breath.

Elizabeth controlled herself with effort. "What do you need,
Cecile?"
she asked, trying to muffle her laughter.

"Did you tell Charles what
I
said? Have you heard from him?"

"No."

"Why hasn't he written?" the young girl asked indignantly.

"I really do not know. Was there anything else you wished to ask?" Elizabeth stood up to escort her unwelcome guest to her waiting horse. Then, catching sight of the curiosity on the girl's face, she realized her mistake and said, "No,
Cecile.
Ask your grandmother." She walked her to the side door, where her groom waited. As soon as
Cecile
was mounted, Elizabeth turned back into the house, returning hastily to call. "Charles will be posted to London. We can discuss the news on your next visit." The girl looked unhappy, but Elizabeth merely waved her on her way.