Midsummer Eve at Rookery End (11 page)

“But you are to blame too!”

He smiled cryptically. “Miss Brook, you are labouring under a misapprehension. I have known it from the moment you approached me in the drawing room, but your entreaty for help was irresistible. You see, I have only met Miss Gardiner once and that was at the request of my godmother, Lady Ives. Miss Gardiner is a charming girl, but I felt no inclination to offer for her.”

“Lady Ives!” said Verity in surprise. “She is a close friend of Viscount Radnor.”

“Indeed. And after tonight, I sense a conspiracy. My godmother told me Miss Gardiner would be at the midsummer ball, and I agreed to seek her out and pay my respects – nothing more. Lady Ives makes no secret of the fact she wants to find me a wife. She thinks I am letting the family down by not being married and considers it time I set up my nursery.”

“Then you think Lady Ives and the Viscount conspired to bring you and Amelia together?”

“It is the sort of thing my meddling godmother would do. As for the Viscount’s role, I suspect Lady Ives has convinced him that I am about to offer for his daughter, and he has been eager to push Amelia my way as a result. But it isn’t true.”

Aghast, Verity stared at him. She was horrified to discover Sir Tristan was not involved after all. There was no question he was telling the truth; his manner was too relaxed for it to be otherwise and she also knew instinctively that he would not dissemble. How she wished the accusations she had flung at him unsaid! What must he think of her? A crimson flush stole into her cheeks and she looked away, glad the midsummer night hid her embarrassment.

“My sincere apologies, Sir Tristan,” she murmured in a constricted voice, unconsciously wringing her hands. “I’m appalled that I reproached you as I did. Why did you not say at once? Why did you let me drag you on this errand? Please, stop the carriage and let me walk to Rookery Cross from here! I will tell Amelia what has happened – there is no need to trouble yourself further.”

He gave her an amused glance. “Do you think I would abandon you in a country lane at the dead of night? You must think me a rum fellow. I’ll see you safely to Rookery Cross and enquire after Amelia and Mr Devaynes. While I might have been unaware of my godmother’s interference, I feel some responsibility for Miss Gardiner’s plight and I want to explain the circumstances to her in person.”

“T-That’s very kind of you,” whispered Verity. “I’m sure Amelia will appreciate it.”

“Perhaps,” he observed, “but I’m more interested in gaining your approval.” When Sir Tristan risked a glance at her profile and saw her lower lip trembling with emotion, he stifled a curse. Snapping the reins to urge his horses to greater speed, he added, “The sooner we get this devil of a mess sorted out the better.”

Verity was too shaken to reply. She fell silent again, mulling over what he had said. It was imperative now that she stopped Amelia and George from eloping. When Viscount Radnor discovered he had been duped about Sir Tristan’s interest, Verity was certain he would consent to Amelia and George marrying by more conventional means.

A short time later, Sir Tristan’s curricle halted outside The Angel. After hailing an ostler to see to his horses, he handed Verity down from his carriage and led the way into the tap room, his greatcoat flapping about his calves and his top boots rasping on the sawdust-covered floor as he went. He had soon bespoke a private parlour, some coffee and a tankard of ale, Verity having refused the landlord’s offer of food. Sir Tristan ushered her into the private parlour where a welcoming fire burned in the grate and asked her to wait while he enquired about the runaways.

Verity removed her cloak, thinking how incongruous she must look clad in her best– her only – ball gown in these surroundings. After several agitated turns about the room, she sat down at the rickety wooden table and waited.

The clock on mantelpiece was chiming midnight when the door opened. Verity jumped to her feet, only to sink back on to her chair when she saw it was a maid with the tray of coffee and ale. Verity thanked her and poured out a cup when the servant left. She had barely had time to take a sip of the scalding brew when Sir Tristan returned. He strode in and sat down opposite Verity.

“Is there any news?” she asked eagerly.

Sir Tristan took a contemplative drink from the tankard. “The landlord tells me they were here not long ago. He suspected they were an eloping couple; Amelia was in tears and Devaynes was doing his best to console her. But they did not stay long – George arranged for his curricle and horses to be stabled here and they left in a post chaise. The landlord does not know where they were headed.”

Tears stung Verity’s eyes. “Oh,” she whispered. “I had hoped we would reach them in time.”

Silence followed.

Sir Tristan, watching her closely, broke it by clasping one of her hands and murmuring, “I’m sorry I couldn’t do more.”

She gave a valiant smile and glanced down to avoid his searching gaze. “You are not at fault – in any way. Thank you for your efforts and I apologise again for misjudging you.” Then, Verity made an odd little sound, a combination of a laugh and a sob as she wiped away her tears with a handkerchief. “Oh Lord, I am turning into a veritable watering pot this evening,” she said, trying for a lighter note. “Pray don’t think I am always such a poor creature! I hardly ever cry, it is just that now I will have to explain everything to the Viscount, and—”

“May I make a suggestion, Miss Brook?”

Verity, sniffing prosaically, nodded.

“There is nothing more we can do here,” said Sir Tristan. “Miss Gardiner and Devaynes could have gone in a number of directions and neither of us are suitably dressed to give chase. We must return to Rookery End and speak with the Allinghams. Miles Allingham is an old friend of mine; his discretion can be relied upon completely. First, I will ask him to send word to Radnor Court—”

“There is no immediate need,” said Verity. “Amelia’s mother will have retired to bed hours ago and Viscount Radnor does not return from London until late tomorrow.”

“Very well. Then you will stay at Rookery End overnight.”

“No—”

“I insist upon it,” he said firmly. “Lady Allingham will be happy to oblige me in this request, and you are in no fit state to travel back to Radnor Court. Tomorrow, we will go to see the Viscount together – I will not leave you to face his wrath alone, and he shall hear about Lady Ives’s machinations.”

Verity looked at him. A reassuring smile played on his lips and, as his warm gaze seeped into her soul, she knew that she loved Sir Tristan Millforte. She had set out to prevent a scandal and instead had fallen in love with a man who was completely out of her reach. Her heart ached at the realisation, but Verity had her pride and at once determined never to give him an indication of her feelings.

“That seems to be the only possible course,” she said, gently disengaging her fingers from his grasp and amazed at how calm her voice was. “Your offer to accompany me to Radnor Court is generous but quite unnecessary – I shall be obliged to leave there as soon as possible after tonight’s events.”

“Do you think you will find another post soon?”

“Most likely I shall never find employment as a governess again when news of this emerges,” said Verity in a wry tone, all the while wishing she could find a quiet corner of the inn in which to cry her eyes out.

“You may be right, but perhaps I can suggest an alternative,” replied Sir Tristan. “When you’ve finished your coffee, we’ll go back to Rookery End.”

Conversation was desultory during the return journey and Verity was glad of it; she was in no mood to talk and neither, it seemed, was Sir Tristan.

Amelia’s elopement played heavily on her mind, but Verity believed the Viscount would accept his daughter’s marriage with good grace when he realised Sir Tristan had never intended to offer for Amelia.

More personal issues haunted Verity now. To sit close to the man she loved, to be able to admire his profile, the faint smile that curved his lips, the expert way he handled his horses – all of this was purgatory when she knew it must come to nothing. A man like Sir Tristan Millforte would never notice a governess, and in any event, she no longer belonged to his world. It was doubtful that she would see him again after tonight.

He pulled his curricle to halt in front of the Palladian frontage of Rookery End and helped Verity down from the carriage. Her fingers trembled as she placed them in his, even this brief contact sending shivers of yearning through her body. Despite the late hour, the ball was still in full flow when they entered the hall. Sir Tristan murmured his intention of finding Lord Allingham, but before he could do so, a footman approached to say Lord Allingham had requested that Miss Brook join him in the library on her return.

Surprised, Verity glanced at Sir Tristan. “Perhaps his lordship has somehow learned of the elopement, or he has news of their whereabouts.”

But when she and Sir Tristan entered the library, Lord Allingham was not waiting for them alone. An elegant, dark-haired lady, whom Verity presumed was Lady Allingham, was there also, along with Amelia, and George Devaynes.

Amelia, her eyes red from crying, rushed over to embrace her. “Verity! Oh, I’m so glad to see you! Lord Allingham guessed that you and Sir Tristan had followed us – he saw you both leave Rookery End in a hurry.”

“What are you doing here?” asked Verity in amazement. “I thought you would be on your way to Gretna.”

“When George saw how upset I was at The Angel, he wouldn’t let me go through with it. He said he would convince my father somehow to let us marry. I was completely torn – I wanted to go to the border with George, but I also felt awful about abandoning you and I knew that my parents would be devastated. Eventually, George persuaded me to return to Rookery End—”

“Ah. I believe we passed your chaise,” interjected Sir Tristan.

“You most likely did,” said Amelia. “Neither George nor I were taking note of other carriages.” Addressing Verity once more, she continued: “When I couldn’t find you, I became even more distressed. Lord and Lady Allingham found George comforting me in one of the ante-rooms and brought us both here. We have told them everything. Poor George! He was never comfortable about us eloping.”

“Always thought it a damned havey-cavey business,” said George, with a shake of his head. “I’m determined to talk to Viscount Radnor. Going to tell him how deeply I love his daughter and prevail upon him to let us marry. Deuce take it, I’m not a fortune-hunter! I’d marry Amelia even if she didn’t have a penny, by God if I wouldn’t!” He turned to Sir Tristan, a mutinous set to his mouth. “Sir, whatever claim you have on Miss Gardiner’s hand, I advise you to renounce it now – she’s going to marry me!”

Amusement gleamed in Sir Tristan’s eyes. “Delighted to hear it. I think you and Miss Gardiner will suit admirably.”

George goggled at him. “You do?”

“There has been a misunderstanding,” explained Verity. “Sir Tristan was never going to offer for Amelia.”

“Not that I wouldn’t have been honoured to,” said Sir Tristan smoothly. “My godmother, Lady Ives, is responsible for the, er, confusion; she has been busy matchmaking without my knowledge.”

Lord Allingham laughed. “Lady Ives! That explains a great deal.”

“Indeed,” replied his friend, grinning wryly. “You know her devious ways, Miles.”

“So there was no need for me to elope with George after all?” asked Amelia.

“No, love,” said Verity. “Of course, your father still has to agree to you marrying Mr Devaynes, but in the circumstances I think he will soon be persuaded.”

Wreathed in smiles, Amelia said inopportunely, “Oh, I’m glad I don’t have to marry Sir Tristan!” Then, realising how her comment might be construed, she blushed and glanced at Sir Tristan. “Oh dear. I’m sorry, that sounds dreadfully rude. What I meant—”

A lazy smile curved Sir Tristan’s mouth. “I understand your meaning perfectly; there is no need to apologise. My godmother’s conduct will be made clear to your father, Miss Gardiner.”

“I intend to visit Viscount Radnor tomorrow to support Amelia and George’s cause,” said Lady Allingham. “I’m sure the Viscount will want to see his daughter happy.”

“And to remove any possible remaining objections, I will be sponsoring George’s transfer to a cavalry regiment,” said Lord Allingham.

After moment’s stunned silence, Mr Devaynes cried, “That’s dashed good of you, Allingham!”

“Don’t mention it, George,” replied his lordship. Looking at his wife lovingly, he added, “Leonora and I are happily married and we like to help others achieve the same.”

“Of course we do,” agreed Lady Allingham. “Well, as it seems there is to be a happy ending after all, I suggest we all rejoin the ball. There is still plenty of enjoyment to be had before daybreak.” She smiled at her husband and threaded her arm through his, “Come, Miles, our other guests must be wondering where we are.”

“Verity, would it be improper if I waltzed with George a second time?” asked Amelia.

“Of course not,” she replied, struggling to keep her countenance; compared to an elopement, engaging in another waltz was a very tame affair!

“Will you join us, Miss Brook?” said Lady Allingham kindly. “You’ve had an eventful evening to say the least, but there are several gentlemen who would like to be introduced to you. A lovely young woman like yourself does not go unnoticed, you know.”

Verity’s gaze widened with surprise. “But I’m only Amelia’s governess.”

“And what does that signify, my dear? Your manners are better than many of the
ton
.”

“Well, I—” began Verity, not knowing how to reply. She found Lady Allingham’s invitation flattering, but having privately acknowledged her unrequited love for Sir Tristan, she felt out of spirits.

Lord Allingham, who had read the message in the glance his friend directed towards him, said, “I believe Sir Tristan has something to discuss with Miss Brook, my love.” With a mischievous wink at the baronet, he added, “Take all the time you need, Tris.”