Miss Armistead Makes Her Choice (17 page)

“Miss Elizabeth seems to be in a lusterless frame of mind, today. May I inquire as to why?” he queried.

“I can conceive of no reason, Mr. Lloyd-Jones, why you should find me in a mood other than contemplative. I am most eager to explore the treasures of the museum, as are each one of us, I do assure you.”

Colin shot his sister a look to gage her reaction, but her face revealed little and she remained silent.

“I daresay you were out quite late at some ball, though not at the Russell’s, is that not correct?”

“You are quite wrong, Mr. Lloyd-Jones,” Lady Augusta replied. “Elizabeth’s mother and I determined that it would be best if the girls stayed in so as to be assured that they were both free of illness. We did not wish them to miss their outing today.”

“I am humbled by your wisdom,” Colin said with an inclination of his head. “My sister and I have been anticipating our visit to the museum today, as well.”

“I am persuaded that I did, at one time, visit the museum when I was quite young,” Mrs. Armistead remarked. “But that was some time ago. I understand that there are many new and marvelous items to be viewed as of late.”

“Yes,” Colin was happy to confirm. “There is the marvelous Rosetta Stone of which I am persuaded you have heard as far away as India and the Townley sculptures which have prompted our visit here today. Sadly, the Elgin marbles have not, as of yet, been moved to the museum but it is said that they will be by this time next year.”

“I do appreciate antiquity as much as the next lady, I hope,” Lady Augusta replied, “though I am not anxious to view the sculptures of which you have spoken. I have heard tell of the young man, in particular, who hasn’t a stitch of clothing to his back. It is not suitable for the eyes of decent women, I daresay.”

Colin smiled. “As I have not seen it as of yet, I am not in a position to verify or dispute, however, I have been told that it is wondrous to behold. Surely, a piece of cold marble, no matter how it is formed, is not the same as when adorned in flesh and blood.”

“Do not be in such a pother, Augusta,” Mrs. Armistead suggested. “It is art and, as such, it can only be unexceptionable.”

Colin could not help but wonder how Miss Armistead viewed this exchange and longed to be able to read her face. Worse were his thoughts along the lines of how he was to get ahold of her arm as they descended from the carriage with Miss Hale between them. Doubtless she had foreseen this very circumstance and had devised a plot to place herself at his side so as to be the one on his arm. If so, she must have counted herself rewarded as, once free of the carriage, there was naught for him to do but offer it to her as Miss Armistead had already moved on ahead with her mother and aunt.

“Well,” Analisa murmured as she took his other arm, “we are thwarted for a time but not defeated.”

Colin ignored her and concentrated on ensuring all of the ladies made it up the first flight of stairs and through the front door of the establishment. Lady Augusta in particular was already showing signs of wearing thin. Once they were safely inside, he returned his attention to Miss Hale. “I don’t believe I posed you the question; are you a lover of art?”

“Oh, yes, I find it is a pleasant means to expand one’s mind. I am a dab hand at watercolors, but I have longed to make an attempt at oils.”

“Then I am persuaded you shall enjoy the gallery of portraits. What say you, Miss Armistead? Shall we go first to the paintings before and then the sculptures?”

She turned to look over her shoulder as she replied, but the brim of her bonnet was such that he saw very little of her expression. “I would be grateful if you put Katherine’s wishes above mine. I am content to view whatever she decides.”

“Well, then,” Analisa whispered, “we now know which way the wind blows.

Colin refrained from turning away from Miss Hale so as to whisper in his sister’s ear, but his thoughts were such that he wished to unburden his mind of them. That the women from India had determined that he should make an excellent catch for Miss Hale was more and more apparent, but he could hardly credit it. Certainly Miss Armistead had enough feelings for him as to constitute a natural desire for her friend to wed elsewhere. He hoped he did not credit himself too generously, but the fact that Miss Armistead was, at the very least, drawn to him was not in any doubt.

And then he recalled her comments as to her interest in paintings, particularly those that depicted British history, and he felt his mood rise. “Let us do as Miss Armistead suggests and grant Miss Hale her wish to see the paintings.” Delighted to have discovered a way to make both of the younger ladies happy, he steered them to where entrance tickets could be purchased and bespoke six.

“Mr. Lloyd-Jones, how kind,” a flustered Mrs. Armistead said. “Certainly it was our intention to pay for our own tickets!”

“It is my pleasure, Mrs. Armistead,” Colin replied and turned in hopes of finding her daughter close to his side and the natural choice for his arm. She, however, was across the hall admiring the broad sweep of stairs that led to the upper gallery.

“It is impressive, is it not?” he asked of Miss Hale who seemed far more attuned to treasures closer at hand. She took his arm and led him off to view the cluster of columns that supported the ceiling to either side of the entrance to the main gallery.

“Yes, indeed, it is! It seems to be nothing but steps, steps and more steps. I do believe I shall be done in by the time we have arrived at wherever it is they have hung the paintings. It was quite farsighted of you to lend your assistance as I am persuaded I am the lady of the party least likely to
manage such an ascent!”

“Not at all, Miss Hale. I cannot believe that you, as the youngest of the group, save my sister, should have any trouble at all whatsoever. I expect it should be wise of me to offer my arm to each of the other ladies, in turn.”

“I suppose that is only proper,” Miss Hale said slowly. “But of course, you are always all that is proper, Mr. Lloyd-Jones,” she added with a simpering smile.

Colin subdued a sigh in the face of Miss Hale’s glaring attempts to incite his favor and turned to his sister. “And what of you, my poppet? Does your heart quail at the sight of so many stairs?”

“Should it?” she asked, her eyes wide with suppressed levity. “Indeed, I shall prove to you my lack of need for anyone’s arm, even yours,” she retorted as she let go his arm and made her way up the stairs on her own.

“That leaves one arm free for one of the ladies from India,” Colin invited, “both of whom must be as bitter towards the prospect of a great many steps as Miss Hale.”

“Mr. Lloyd-Jones,” Miss Armistead replied as she turned away from her inspection of the vaulted ceiling to join in the discussion, “I profess to be quaking in my boots.”

Colin lost no time in extending his free arm to her which she gratefully took. As the three of them proceeded up the steps, he felt that the tide had turned.

Chapter Ten

Elizabeth did not know when she had enjoyed herself more. To gad about on the arm of a handsome gentleman in a public place was an unknown indulgence in Bengal. It was most stimulating, even heady, and if the day never came to an end, she would have been most pleased. This, in spite of Aunt Augusta’s propensity to puff along beside them or lag behind. There was also the need to usher Elizabeth’s mother away from one treasure after another as they did their utmost to turn a blind eye and a deaf ear to Katherine’s hopeless attempts to attach Mr. Lloyd-Jones’ interest.

Katherine displayed a lack of decorum in other ways, as well, none of which failed to vex all within her orbit. She disdained the portraits for depicting a quantity of personages most unattractive when she had hoped for landscapes; she proved that she cared nothing for books when she recommended they skirt the library section and made them each an object of fun when she viewed the Townley sculptures, most particularly “the man with the oatcake in his hand”.

“It is not an oatcake, Miss Hale, but a discus,” Mr. Lloyd-Jones explained. Katherine exposed her ignorance when she treated his words to laughter as she tugged on his arm to lead him away. Elizabeth, however, would have liked to linger and indulge her fascination with the ability cold marble has to take on such a likeness of life.

Mr. Lloyd-Jones turned to her, then, and, as if he did not wish to be overheard, leaned shockingly near. “I should be delighted to escort you hither on a day when Miss Hale is engaged so that we might peruse history to our heart’s content.”

Elizabeth had the presence of mind to nod her agreement in spite of the disorder of her emotions she experienced at his closeness. She had most usually perceived men much as she did a marble statue; untouchable and stiff. From them she always was expected to keep her distance, to not become overly familiar, to observe and admire but never to know. She had come to understand the minds of the men close to her such as her father and Duncan, and she had stood on ceremony as she had danced with any
number of them. However, as she clung to Mr. Lloyd-Jones’ arm, she enjoyed a lively awareness of the differences between a man carved of stone and one of living flesh.

His warm breath against her cheek, the manner in which his shoulder brushed against hers, the rippling of his muscles under her hand, the warmth of her elbow caught tight against his side, each sensation served to call forth a delicious affinity for a form she had often seen as little more than a suit of clothes with a head. Every inch of her seemed to yearn for his touch, and yet, she had never so yearned for Duncan’s physical attentions. She had not even particularly enjoyed the small, dry kiss he had bestowed on her the evening prior to her departure from India. It had been the only kiss they had shared in all the weeks they had been betrothed and she had not felt the lack of it until now.

The day, however, did come to an end and Mr. Lloyd-Jones had delivered them all to Aunt Augusta’s house with vows from both parties that they would see one another soon. Every fiber of Elizabeth’s being had rebelled at the parting, one which promised to be of short duration. It was nothing to the peaceful emotions she had experienced when she had parted from Duncan for the long sea voyage.

Later, as she dressed for dinner, she reflected on her feelings and was persuaded the contrast was due to the fact that she planned to spend the rest of her life with him while she only had little more than a fortnight to enjoy the company of the Lloyd-Joneses before Duncan’s ship arrived. Her belly clenched at the notion and she wondered why that should be so. A voice at the back of her mind whispered that perhaps she did not love Duncan and she was marrying him for all of the wrong reasons.

Angrily, she pushed the unworthy thought away and redirected her attention to the final fitting for her wedding dress she had experienced the day prior. The gown was every bit as lovely as she had hoped. The wedding was to be at St. George’s at Hanover Square and the long train at the back of the otherwise fairly simple muslin gown was quite dramatic. The bodice was tucked with a trim of lace that flared to make up the quarter length sleeves and leaves and scrolls were embroidered in white down the front of the skirt and around the entire edge. It was quite simply delicious but far simpler
than her father could afford. Elizabeth felt it foolish to spend a great sum of money on a dress her groom would not be able to see but owned that the train was a personal indulgence. After all, it wasn’t as if every guest at the wedding would be blind.

The very thought led her to wonder if she should invite the Lloyd-Joneses to her nuptials. They had become such dear friends in such a short time and she had no doubt they would grow dearer as the weeks went by. She made a mental note to ask her mother and aunt after dinner as to what was expected and how she might go about it.

As it turned out, the evening meal was a bit tiresome in light of Katherine’s smug remarks with regard to the progress she was making in her pursuit of Mr. Lloyd-Jones. However, her pretensions turned to outright anger when the butler brought to table a note from Miss Lloyd-Jones addressed to Elizabeth alone.

“What could Miss Lloyd-Jones have to say to Elizabeth that should not apply to me?” Katherine asked petulantly.

“I don’t know, Kate,” Elizabeth said with a great show of patience. “I shall open it and perhaps discover the answer to your question,” she added as she broke the seal and unfolded the thick vellum. “Why, how lovely! They have asked that we accompany them on a picnic tomorrow, all four of us once again.”

“I am most sorry, girls,” Aunt Augusta said, “but these old bones are not accustomed to such a quantity of staircases in one afternoon. Doubtless I shall not be able to get out of bed tomorrow let alone dispose myself on the ground to consume grapes straight from the vine.”

Elizabeth felt her heart plummet at her aunt’s words. “But, Mama, you shall go, won’t you? We shall miss you, Aunt, but cannot Mama serve as chaperone well enough?”

“Yes, indeed, if Hortense wishes to, I can think of no reason why you should not all go.”

“I think it sounds an excellent notion,” Elizabeth’s mother replied. “The two of you shall look a picture with those matching sprig muslins you had made up last year.”

“Yes,” Katherine announced, “I find saffron to be quite complementary.”

Elizabeth contemplated the muslin to which her mother referred, one worn with a straw chip bonnet tied with a wide saffron satin ribbon, and knew a curious sense of defiance. Certainly her mother knew that saffron was far from her best color. Soon Elizabeth would be married to a man who would have no care as to how she looked or what she wore. For once in her life she wished to dress to be admired, for as long as she had remaining to her as a maid.

“I do believe I left that one behind, Mama.”

“You never did! Well, then, I suppose you shall have to don one of the new ones we recently had made up.”

“Yes, I suppose I shall,” Elizabeth said as offhandedly as she could manage under the glare of Katherine’s ire.

“I am ever so glad of the smart parasol trimmed in jonquil I picked up during our last shopping expedition,” Katherine interjected. “I had thought to use it first once I returned to the heat of India but I am ever so glad I bought it as it shall be the perfect thing for a picnic.”