Miss Armistead Makes Her Choice (13 page)

With the help of Lady Augusta, he had chosen the menu with great pride and was very much looking forward to the reactions of the ladies from India. Though generally a dish reserved for
breakfast, he greatly anticipated their reaction to a British staple, bubble and squeak, along with gooseberry on mashed turnips and Naples biscuits. Also to come were Welsh rarebit on toast, Salmagundi, white soup, jugged hare and meat pasties. Desert would consist of molded ices, flavored and shaped as various fruits, made from Gunter’s own receipt. Colin was delighted when he learned Cook was capable of creating her own ices and decided he should do himself a sad disservice were he to cause her to tender her resignation on that count alone.

As the meal progressed, the blissful reaction of the ladies was all that he could have wished. The items that could not be had in India or required a British cook of some expertise to replicate with any success were all happily hailed and discussed at great length, and the ices were an absolute triumph. However, the delight of the ladies did not please him to the extent he had anticipated; certainly it was nothing compared to the pleasure he felt at the words with which Miss Armistead demonstrated her approval of the painting and it’s well thought out setting.

He felt Analisa’s eyes upon him from her seat down table and saw that she had guessed his thoughts.

“Ladies,” Analisa said brightly, “I believe we must do our best to work off our dinners. I, for one, wish to dance, do you not?” she asked with a look for Miss Armistead.

“But, of course. You shan’t wiggle out of your promise as easily as that,” she replied.

“Then, let us leave Colin to his own devices for a bit whilst we all retire to a room where we can freshen up. Colin, you have a room set aside for the use of the ladies, do you not?”

Colin did not. Or, at least, if he was possessed of a chamber prepared for such activities, he was unaware of it. In hopes that his former betrothed had thought of providing whatever was needful for afternoon callers, he rose and pulled the bell. “Evans shall escort you thither. Pray tell if there is anything else you need.”

“I believe our lack of male guests requires that a footman or two be sent up to assist in moving the sofa and rolling back the carpet in the salon so we might commence dancing the moment we are
returned.”

“To be sure,” he replied with deep gratitude for his sister’s prudence.

Evans entered and the requests were made, whereupon he led the ladies from the room with absolutely no sign that there was no portion of the house given over for the use of females and their needs. Once the door had shut behind the last of them, Colin collapsed into his chair, grateful for small miracles.

By the time the ladies returned, the footman had prepared the room and Colin had recovered enough to spend a moment going through the music at the pianoforte. “I had hopes that you should be willing to play for us, Analisa.” The fact that he had forgotten to engage musicians was all of a piece and he loathed to admit it in the presence of Miss Armistead.

“Of course I shall play, Colin, but surely there is another young lady present who possesses such skills. We shall take turns,” she said with a glance at the faces of the other ladies.

“I play,” Miss Armistead readily admitted, much to Colin’s chagrin. He had hoped that she lacked the skill, making her available to dance all the evening.

“Very good!” Analisa cried. “Come and turn the pages for me, Miss Elizabeth. We shall observe the others and speak snidely of them beneath our breaths,” she added with a smile that utterly belied her offensive words.

“I am persuaded you shall have nothing but praise for myself and Mr. Lloyd-Jones as we waltz,” Miss Hale replied loftily.

To his surprise, Miss Armistead and Analisa turned upon one another the self-same smile, one that indicated a wealth of meaning, all of which was a mystery to him. It cut him to the core that neither seemed the least interested in dancing with him. He envisaged an evening of longing to hold Miss Armistead in his arms whilst he danced with most everyone else.

“Well then, Miss Hale,” he said duteously, “I shall be honored to partner you in a waltz if we are able to persuade Analisa to play one for us. However, as the innocent young maiden she is, she might
not wish to participate in anything so scandalous,” he mocked with a sidelong look for his sister.

“Yes, of course I shall!” Analisa replied. “Fortunately, my brother is an accomplished musician and keeps abreast of all the latest pieces. Ah! Here is just the one.”

“Is that the very truth? Do you play, indeed?” Miss Armistead quizzed.

“Not as well as my sister, but I do enjoy it.”

“He plays far better than I, do be assured of that! I shall have him play something for us later this evening,” Analisa insisted.

“I should be happy to do so but, as you can see, my work has been cut out for me,” he said with a smile that took in every lady in the room.

Miss Hale stepped forward and placed her hand in his. “Dancing is not work, sir, but pure poetry. Do begin, Miss Lloyd-Jones, or we shall waste the evening in idle chit-chat.”

None seemed capable of disobeying such a command and Colin and Miss Hale were in motion with no further delay. As conversation was entirely possible in such a setting, he felt he was expected to speak. However, whatever was said between them should be heard, at the very least, by the two older ladies who sat on the far side of the room from the pianoforte and who took no pains to hide the fact that they were actively eavesdropping. With a last covert glance at Miss Armistead, he cleared his throat and attempted to land on a suitable topic of conversation.

“I had momentarily forgotten, Miss Hale, that you spent your childhood in India, just as has Miss Armistead. Perhaps you might regale me with tales of Bengal. I find that my interest in the subject grows with our every meeting.” Colin meant his comment to encompass all the ladies from India, but it was clear Miss Hale thought otherwise.

“If I had known you were so interested in my childhood, I most certainly should have filled your ears, for it is all most exciting. Not for me, of course,” she was quick to add. “I am, in fact, quite accustomed to lions and elephants, you understand, though, I must confess, I never tire of spotting a leopard as they are rarely seen during the day.”

“I am vastly relieved to know that, Miss Hale, as I am persuaded that the young ladies of Bengal are not allowed to wander about at night. Now I need not be apprehensive as to whether or not you shall become dinner to a leopard.”

He could not say why he looked to Miss Armistead as he spoke, and though she did not turn to find his eyes on her, he was gratified to see that she smiled in reaction to his remark.

“I have an elder brother, just as your sister does, but I am persuaded you are far more kind to her than Harold shall ever be to me,” Miss Hale said in tragic tones.

“In that case, Miss Hale, I am in hopes that he is not often at home. What does he do?”

“He makes money, stacks and stacks of it, just as Papa does. I have never bothered to learn precisely how they get their hands on it. I have been told that the mind of a woman is too genteel for such things.”

Colin felt unable to serve her remark with an appropriate reply, especially in light of how Lady Augusta rolled her eyes in disgust at Miss Hale’s déclassé words. “Do you have sisters?” he asked in hopes of changing the subject.

“Yes, indeed, all of them still in short skirts and excessively tiresome,” she said with a jaded air. “I should hardly say so, but I do not look forward to going home. I should much rather stay in England,” she added with a moue that he was persuaded was meant for him in spite of the way in which she turned her blue eyes to the wall.

He stole another glance at Miss Armistead and saw that, this time, she did not smile. In point of fact, she looked more than a little low and he wondered what could account for it.

“Has your father sent you here to find a husband, then? I should have thought there were more than enough British officers in Bengal from which to choose now that Miss Armistead has made her choice.” The words were out before he ascertained the unpleasant light in which they put Miss Hale. Now that they were said, however, he could not think how to unsay them. His gaze flew once again to Miss Armistead at the pianoforte in hopes that she might discover the means to rescue him.

“I do believe that what Mr. Lloyd-Jones meant to say,” Miss Armistead began slowly, “is that one hardly need send one’s daughter to England to secure a husband, is that not so, Mr. Lloyd-Jones? After all, it is common knowledge that I failed to receive a single offer the year I enjoyed my London season. Love and happiness were waiting for me back in India all along.”

Though Colin could not like all that Miss Armistead said, he could not help but compare her to his sister with most favorable results. Both seemed to say the right thing, always, in spite of the lively sense of humor they seemed to share. In contrast, Miss Hale, whose vivid blue eyes were even now filling with tears, had proven to be more than a little indiscreet.

“My dear Miss Hale, I am persuaded there are dozens of young soldiers back at home who are pining away for you. Marriage to any one of them should return you to the British Isles post haste.”

To his extreme discomfiture, rather than Miss Hale’s mood being bolstered by his words, she burst into a proper bout of tears, whereupon Miss Armistead abandoned her post at the pianoforte, took Miss Hale in her arms and drew her a few paces away while Mrs. Armistead and Lady Augusta looked on in horror. “Mr. Lloyd-Jones, I should be most grateful if you and your sister played something lively, as a duet. Wouldn’t that be diverting, Katherine?” she asked of her friend.

Miss Hale, who had already begun to rally, nodded her head and sniffed.

Colin immediately moved to the pianoforte and quickly located just the right piece of music, a Mozart variation that required four hands. He was delighted to play it with his sister as he had longed to do since he had purchased the music. However, the notion of having Miss Armistead at his side as they played was one he could not readily dismiss.

An image of her seated in the shadows of a dark and cold hovel in the wilds of Scotland, one entirely devoid of a pianoforte, a proper library or even a book, rose unbidden in his mind. He shivered and Analisa turned a wide-eyed look on him that indicated she had felt the tremor that passed through him. He feigned not to notice and diverted his attention to the hoped-for recovery of Miss Hale. He saw that Miss Armistead had a masterful command of the situation but hoped he might take an action
that would somehow make amends. “Miss Hale, I daresay you play. Are you familiar with this piece? I am persuaded Analisa should yield her place in your favor.”

Smiles wreathed every face at his suggestion and Miss Hale eagerly took Analisa’s place at the pianoforte.

Chapter Eight

“The time has arrived for you to partner me, Miss Elizabeth,” Miss Lloyd-Jones urged. As the two of them clasped hands, Elizabeth was only too happy to finally have the opportunity to dance. To her satisfaction, the older ladies seemed to be enjoying themselves as they clapped their hands and stamped their feet in time to the music. All in all, it was vastly diverting and it served to distract Katherine from her wounded feelings.

However, the new arrangement put Mr. Lloyd-Jones in proximity to Katherine’s clumsy attempts to attach him. Why Elizabeth should be in the least put out by the thought of Mr. Lloyd-Jones and Katherine together, she could not say. And yet, she was vastly relieved when, the moment the piece was finished, Mr. Lloyd-Jones rose from the bench and favored Katherine with a bow. “I feel privileged to have played with such a fine musician, Miss Hale, but I find I must return to my role as the only suitable partner available to a room full of ladies, all of whom have clearly demonstrated their love of dance.”

“Never say so, Colin! I feel supremely suitable, indeed,” Miss Lloyd-Jones claimed, her face alight with laughter.

“Very well, then, I shall seek my quarry elsewhere,” he chided.

“Ho! Not I, you rogue!” Lady Augusta said when his eye fell upon her.

“Mrs. Armistead then?”

Elizabeth thought for a moment that her mother would accept if only Miss Lloyd-Jones had not quite literally pushed Elizabeth directly into Mr. Lloyd-Jones’ path.

“Miss Elizabeth has not yet had her turn to dance with you, Colin,” Analisa pointed out.

Once again Elizabeth stood so close to Mr. Lloyd-Jones that she was forced to experience discomfort in order to look up at him. To her relief, he took a step back but her consternation was doubled when he took her in his arms in preparation for a waltz. Katherine, however, immediately
began to play a polonaise, a circumstance that greatly appealed to Elizabeth who lost no time in urging her mother and Miss Lloyd-Jones to join them.

“We can hardly give a satisfactory appearance of marching if there is not at least one other couple, is that not so?” Elizabeth queried.

“But of course,” Miss Lloyd-Jones replied, whereupon, she navigated herself so briskly to Mrs. Armistead’s side that Elizabeth had no choice but to take Mr. Lloyd-Jones’ arm or risk seeming uncivil.

“How very pleasant,” Elizabeth remarked as they began to march, “as this is a dance much given to conversation, whilst being utterly devoid of the danger of fainting.”

Mr. Lloyd-Jones laughed and Elizabeth noted that he appeared to be at ease for the first time that evening.

“Well, Miss Elizabeth, if I may call you thus, has the moment arrived when you might tell me of your version of a childhood spent in India?”

This obvious reference to their conversation at the book store brought a smile to her lips. She looked up to read his expression but hadn’t the opportunity to speak before her mother interpolated her opinion on the subject.

“I do believe she should inform you, first, as to how she met her betrothed. It is a story quite dramatic, I do assure you.”

“Mama,” Elizabeth said as she turned to bend a look of warning on her mother. “I met him at a dance along with many other soldiers that night, as I recall.”