The American Earl (17 page)

“I will present you to some of them,” Lady Jersey assured him.

Evan’s smile dimmed. “You are very good.”

Lady Jersey waved to two young men who had been hovering in our vicinity. “Mr. Singleton, Lord Craig, allow me to introduce you to Miss Lewis and Lady Julia Marshall.”

Both gentlemen looked eagerly at Lizzie, and when she smiled at one of them, the other politely turned to me. “Would you care to have this dance with me, Lady Julia?” he asked.

Lord Craig’s hair was carefully curled and his necktie came almost up to his ears. I wondered what kind of peripheral vision such a monstrosity would allow. However, not to be outdone in politeness, I produced a smile and said yes, I would dance with him.

The good thing about a minuet is that you don’t get a chance to talk very much.  The same is true for the cotillion that followed, which I danced with another young man whose name I didn’t remember. 

The third man I danced with said, as we waited for the set to form, “I was at Tattersall’s when your cousin bought that chestnut gelding of Blackburn’s. I understand he acquired it for you.”

I felt the first spark of interest I had known all evening. “He did buy me a chestnut gelding,” I said. “We left my mare at home and I needed something to ride while I was in London.”

“I haven’t seen you in the park with him yet.”

“I’ve been taking him out early in the morning, so we can gallop. The park in the afternoon is horribly crowded. No fun at all.”

He nodded, but before he could reply the music started and the dance began. It was a few minutes before we met up again and when we did I asked, “I’m curious. Why was he being sold?”

“Blackburn had bought him for his wife, but he was too much horse for her. He’s small enough for a woman, but he was bred to be a racehorse. He ran away with her a few times, and that was that.”

Once again we were separated by the dance and I looked forward eagerly to reconnecting with this interesting person who knew all about my horse. 

“It sounds as if you are doing all right with him,” he said to me on our next meeting. 

“I love him,” I replied fervently. “I think I might try him in the hunting field.”

He looked interested. “You hunt, do you?”

“Oh, yes. All the time.”

The dance was over and I stood talking to my partner. For the first time I really looked at him. He was a broad shouldered young man of average height with brown hair and eyes that were a mix of blue and gray. “What was your name again?” I asked.

He grinned.  “I’m Tom Winston.  My father is Lord Sheffield.  He has a place in Leicestershire, near Melton Mowbray.  I hunt with the Quorn myself.  But we don’t get many ladies.”

“I should love to hunt with the Quorn,” I said enviously. 

“Not too many full-bred Thoroughbreds hunting with the Quorn,” Mr. Winston replied. “They’re fast, but a little delicate over heavy country. And hard to control sometimes. We mostly use Thoroughbred crosses.”

“I’ve hunted my Thoroughbred mare for years. No other breed has the courage of the Thoroughbred.”

Mr. Winston looked at me with respect and I decided that I liked him. 

My senses suddenly prickled and I turned to see Evan coming up to me. A waltz was the next dance on the card.

He nodded amiably to Mr. Winston and said to me, “We might as well get this waltz over with. Then you won’t have to worry if anyone else asks you.”

For some reason, I felt nervous.  I wet my lips with my tongue and put my hand into the hand he was holding out to me. 

Mr. Winston said, “I say, Lady Julia, would you dance with me again?”

I blinked and looked at him. “Why, yes, I suppose so.”

I walked with Evan out to the floor. “That’s the first fellow I’ve seen you talking to,” he said.

“Have you been watching me?”

“Just trying to make sure you’re getting on all right.”

“Oh.  He was asking me about Ty,” I said.  “Just fancy, Evan, he knew all about your outbidding Lord Ormesby. And he knew about Ty’s previous owner, too. He was very interesting.”

His blue eyes smiled down at me. “I told you to talk about horses.”

The music began to play and Evan put his hand on my waist. He was much taller than I, but our steps matched as we began to circle the floor. I felt the movement of his body against mine and suddenly it was as if we were the only two people in the room. We didn’t talk. I felt like resting my cheek against his shoulder and dancing with him forever.

When the music stopped I stiffened in surprise. It was an effort for me to step away from him and when I dared to look up into his face he was staring down at me, his face unsmiling, his eyes narrowed. It was a look that made my breath catch.

What is going on here? 

I said, “I think I should go back to Aunt Barbara.”

My voice didn’t sound quite right.

“I’ll take you,” he replied. His voice didn’t sound quite right either.

I never thought I would be happy to see my aunt, but right now she felt like safety. She gave the two of us an approving smile. “Very nice,” she said. “You did me credit, the both of you.”

“Thank you,” Evan said.

I didn’t say anything.

At this point, Lizzie came up with her partner, to whom Aunt Barbara gave an especially gracious smile.  “I didn’t expect to see
you
here tonight, Your Grace.  I thought you were among those who found Almack’s unbearably insipid.”

The gentleman, who was tall and slim and handsome, with wavy dark brown hair and clear hazel eyes, smiled back. “I was pressed into service by my mother. She has a goddaughter who is making her first appearance tonight and my mother wanted me to escort her.”

“Who is she?” Aunt Barbara asked curiously.

He nodded toward a tall, brown-haired girl who was standing across the floor from them. “Miss Hamlin. My mother and hers have been bosom friends for years.”

“We’re lucky to have my cousin Evan escort us,” Lizzie said. “My father hates London. He was thrilled when he heard that he didn’t have to come.”

The Duke smiled at Evan. “Glad to meet you. It must have felt a little strange to an American, suddenly finding yourself an English earl.”

“It feels very strange,” Evan replied feelingly. 

The music started up and the Duke said to Lizzie, “Thank you for the waltz, Miss Lewis.”

I said, “I thought you couldn’t dance the waltz until you had danced it with Evan first.”

Lizzie laughed. “It seems that dukes have more influence with the patronesses than we do.”

Evan said, “I hope that doesn’t mean you aren’t going to dance with me, Lizzie.”

“You shall have the next waltz,” she promised.

The duke smiled at me and politely asked me to dance.  Politely, I accepted.

* * * *

Going home in the carriage, Aunt Barbara was ecstatic.  The Duke of Morton had asked Lizzie to dance twice! 

“You must know that he is the biggest catch on the marriage mart, my love,” she said.  “Has been for years.”

“I thought you said Lord Ormesby was the biggest catch,” I said.

“Not as big as Morton.  A duke!  Can you imagine being a duchess, Lizzie?” 

“Mama,” Lizzie said practically, “he danced with me twice. He didn’t propose to me. Calm yourself, please.”

“Is a duke more important than an earl?” Evan asked curiously.

“A duke is the highest rank of nobility below the royal family,” Lady Barbara said. “Really, Evan, did your father teach you nothing?”

“Americans aren’t interested in titles,” Evan replied.

“You do have to admit that when the Americans made their revolution, they followed through with it,” Lizzie said. “Washington became a president, not a king. The French didn’t have as much luck. They ended up with an emperor.”

“An excellent point, Lizzie,” Evan said warmly.  

“I saw you dancing twice with Mr. Winston,” Aunt Barbara said to me.  “He’s not an eligible
parti
for you, Julia. I believe he has a small inheritance from his uncle, but it’s not enough to support a wife and family.” Her tone of voice was adamant.

“I only danced with him, Aunt Barbara,” I said. “He didn’t propose.”

“I don’t know what he was doing at Almack’s,” she went on with palpable annoyance. “According to Sally Jersey he never comes.”

“He came tonight to oblige a friend,” I said. “He is up in London looking for a new hunter.”

“What kind of a fellow is he?” Evan asked abruptly.

“He hunts with the Quorn!” I said.

“The Quorn is a very famous hunt,” Lizzie kindly explained to Evan. 

“I’ll never understand the fun in galloping across rough country and jumping stone fences, all to catch a little fox,” Evan said. “I did it once and that was enough for me.”

“And I’ll never understand the fun of crossing a huge and dangerous ocean in a little boat!” I shot back.

“I make money doing that,” he pointed out. “What money is there in chasing a fox?”

“Money isn’t everything in life,” I said. “But you Americans don’t seem to understand that.”

“Listening to Aunt Barbara, it seems to me as if money is pretty important to the English too. At least to the English when they are marrying off their daughters.”

A chilly silence fell.

Lizzie, the peacemaker, said, “Let’s not quarrel and spoil our lovely evening. You danced with some pretty girls, Evan. Did you have fun?”

“Everyone wants to know about the Red Indians,” Evan said. “You would think it wasn’t safe to walk the streets of Boston, for God’s sake.”

“Is it safe?” I asked.

“A lot safer than London,” he retorted. “I’ve never seen such wretched poverty in my life as in this city. Everyone in America who wants a job has one. From what I have observed here, at least half of the people are unemployed, with no chance of getting a job either. So they turn to crime. I’d rather walk down a dark street in Boston than in London any day.”

Lizzie said, “Papa says it’s getting worse, too. All of the soldiers who fought in the war against Napoleon are coming home, and there’s no work for them. And Parliament has passed this Corn Law, to keep the price of corn up so that English farmers can make a profit. But Papa says such a law will hurt the poor badly.”

“Your father sounds like a good man, Lizzie,” Evan said approvingly.

Aunt Barbara said, “You will have an opportunity to meet my husband when he comes to London for our ball. He’s a bit of a radical, I’m afraid. You will probably get along very well.”

I said, “I didn’t know about this Corn Law. It sounds very stupid to me. If people have to pay more money for bread they won’t have anything left over to buy bacon, cheese, butter, milk, beer, meat - all the other products English farmers produce. That’s not only going to hurt the poor, it’s going to hurt the farmer in the long run too.”

“How clever of you, Julia,” Lizzie said. “That’s exactly what Papa says.”

“Enough of this political talk,” Aunt Barbara pronounced. “You girls may sleep late tomorrow morning, but you must be ready to receive visitors by eleven. I am quite certain that a number of gentlemen will be calling.”

“I can’t sleep late,” I said. “I have to take Ty to the park so he can get some exercise.”

“Take him out in the afternoon, when the
ton
will be in the park,” Aunt Barbara said.  “Isn’t that why you got him?  So you could ride in the park with us?”

“One doesn’t
ride
at five o’clock in the park,” I said. “There’s too much traffic to do more than a sedate trot. It’s boring.” I turned to Evan. “You won’t be too tired to go out tomorrow morning, will you, Evan?”

“Not at all,” he said. “I don’t mind a good gallop. Just don’t ask me to jump any fences.”

There was a faint teasing note in his voice and I felt a tightness inside me, that I hadn’t even realized was there, relax.   

“I won’t,” I promised.

“Here we are,” said Aunt Barbara, and the coach turned into the courtyard of Althorpe House.

Chapter Twenty-three

I was tired when I got to bed, but sleep wouldn’t come. I kept thinking about that waltz with Evan and the way it made me feel.

Deep in my heart, I knew Evan was the one man I could spend the rest of my life with.  If only he would stay in England!  We could live at Stoverton and together we would bring it back to life.  If only he wasn’t an American!

But he was American, and he had made it clear he was returning to America, so that was that.  I couldn’t turn my back on Stoverton and its people and sail off to America with Evan – even had he wanted me to, which was unlikely.  I wasn’t a suitable wife for an American who ran a business.  Evan needed a sensible girl who would be happy to live in little Salem, where there was no art, no hunting and - from what I gathered – no decent horses.  Our plans for the future just did not mesh.

I had barely caught an hour’s sleep when I met Evan in the stable to take Ty to the park.

* * * *

After breakfast I dressed in one of my new morning gowns and went downstairs with Lizzie to sit in the drawing room to await callers. I was feeling tired and grumpy and took the seat Aunt Barbara waved me to with ill grace. At precisely eleven o’clock the door knocker sounded and the callers began to arrive.

I was greatly relieved to find that most of them had come for Lizzie.  Unfortunately, when they couldn’t get close to Lizzie, they felt they had to talk to me.  On a good day I would have had a hard time speaking sensibly to men who prattled on about dancing and the weather, and this was not a good day.  In fact, I was in a foul mood and it was an effort to get beyond monosyllables. 

It was with relief that I saw Mr. Winston come into the room. He went to make his presence known to Aunt Barbara and came directly to sit in the empty seat beside me. The idiot who had been babbling at me had finally given up and taken his leave, thank God.

I gave him a warm smile. “I am so glad to see you, Mr. Winston. Please promise me not to talk about the weather.”