The American Earl (23 page)

“I know it seems rotten to you, Julia, but it wouldn’t be proper for you to travel alone with Evan without a chaperone.”

“He’s my cousin!” I said indignantly.

“A cousin isn’t a brother, particularly a cousin who is a young, eligible, single male.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“It’s not.”

“Evan’s an American. He’s different.”

Lizzie sighed. “I know how much you miss Stoverton, but Evan simply could not take you with him, Julia.  He’s a supremely eligible bachelor and in England first cousins can marry.”

I didn’t know that.  I hadn’t really thought about it. 

It doesn’t matter, I told myself firmly.  Even if he should be interested in me, he’s going back to America.  I have to be here to take care of Stoverton.

This whole conversation with Lizzie depressed me unutterably. London seemed duller than ever, and when I attended two more balls, and Tom was at neither of them, my depression only deepened.

“Do you know what happened to Tom Winston, Aunt Barbara?” I asked as we sat at breakfast the morning after the stupendously boring ball I had suffered through the evening before.

“I believe he went home,” my aunt said off-handedly. “He’s not fond of London, as you know.”

I knew he wasn’t fond of London but I had thought he was fond of me. It hurt that he hadn’t bothered to call to say goodbye. I liked him. He never made me feel as Evan did when I danced with him, but I liked him. He was good company.

“Oh,” I said gloomily.

Aunt Barbara said, “I do believe Ormesby is interested in you, Julia.  He always asks you to dance.”

I knew Ormesby wasn’t interested in me.  He found me amusing, but he wasn’t interested in marrying me.  I decided it would be unwise to say as much to Aunt Barbara so I just put a large forkful of eggs into my mouth and chewed.  Lizzie, bless her, took over the conversation.

* * * *

That afternoon, after luncheon, Lizzie found me in the stable feeding carrots to Ty. “May I speak to you for a moment, Julia?” she asked.

“Of course.” I gave Ty the final carrot and he nickered after me as I walked away with Lizzie.

“Come up to my room,” she said.

When we were both sitting in the comfortable chairs in front of the mantelpiece she said, “I need your help, Julia.”

“Of course,” I said, mystified by her pleading expression. “What do you want me to do?

“Help me to meet Roger without Mama knowing.”

My mouth fell opened and my eyes popped.  “Roger?  As in
Lord
Roger, the duke’s brother?” 

“Yes. You haven’t noticed anything between us?”

“No,” I replied, my eyes still popping.

“Good. I’m glad we haven’t seemed obvious.”

I said truthfully, “Lizzie, I have been so miserable lately that I wouldn’t have noticed if the two of you started kissing on the ballroom floor. Are you in love with Lord Roger?”

Lizzie lifted her chin. “Yes, I am. And I know he loves me. I just have to arrange a way for him to tell me so.”

I was hardly the person to consult about affairs of the heart, but I didn’t want to stop her from confiding in me.  “What about the duke?” I asked. 

“I have to get rid of the duke,” she replied.

I envisioned shooting him as he rode in the park. I knew the exact place where I could hide…

Lizzie was going on, “Roger hasn’t realized that his brother is paying attention to me, and I haven’t mentioned it. If he did know, I’m afraid he’d step back. He adores his big brother, you see. It’s very annoying.”

Roger seemed a poor-spirited sort of suitor to me, but I had enough sense not to say that to Lizzie.

She went on, “Roger is so very smart in some ways, but in other ways …well, he doesn’t always
notice
things. He’s seen the duke dance with me, of course, but he hasn’t yet tumbled to the fact that his brother might be serious.”

“Do you think he
is
serious?”

Lizzie looked at me mournfully. “Yes, I do.”

“But you don’t want to marry him.”

“No, I want to marry Roger.”

I smiled. “Lizzie, your mama will have a seizure if you reject a duke and marry a clergyman.”

“Julia,” she looked very stern, “we cannot allow the duke to propose. That would be fatal to all my hopes.”

Roger was sounding less and less of a prize. “Are you certain you love him?” I asked.

“I love him terribly. He’s a truly splendid young man, Julia. He’s brilliant, but he also cares deeply about people. He’ll make a wonderful shepherd for his flock.” She gave me an earnest blue stare. “And I think I would make a good clergyman’s wife. It’s a much more useful and satisfying position than being a duchess.”

I looked at my beautiful cousin and realized she was right. No one was kinder or more generous or more compassionate than Lizzie. “You would be a perfect clergyman’s wife,” I said.

She smiled radiantly. 

“He hasn’t asked you to marry him?”

“No. He’s so diffident, Julia. I’m going to have to ask him – if we can only be alone long enough for me to do it!”

She was going to ask him. Good for Lizzie.

“What do you want me to do?”

“I mentioned to him last night that I would be walking in the park at three this afternoon. I think he’ll be there too. Will you come with me?”

“Of course I will.”

Lizzie’s eyes grew misty. “He’s so handsome – his eyes and mouth are so grave and serious and yet, when he smiles…” She sighed.

“He’s a beautiful man,” I said, banishing from my mind the picture of the one truly beautiful man I knew.

Lizzie hugged me and we made our plans.

Chapter Thirty-one

True to my word, I walked with Lizzie to the park that afternoon, and, at the last minute, Maria and Miss Dixon came with us. It was an unusually cold day and there were few people on the path. We had all dressed sensibly, however, and we walked bravely into the wind, inhaling the clean air of the park, which was far more pleasant than the air in most of London.

Lord Roger appeared halfway through our walk, coming from the opposite direction. Lizzie asked him to join us and, after offering a delightfully shy smile to the rest of us, he did. Lizzie gave me a look and I slowed down, holding Maria’s arm so she would slow down with me. Lizzie and Lord Roger walked faster and we followed at a distance.

Maria half-whispered, “What’s happening between Lizzie and Lord Roger?”

“Nothing as of yet,” I murmured. “She wants to make something happen, though, and we need to give her some privacy.”

Maria’s blue eyes were huge.  “Does Lizzie
love
him?”

I nodded.

Miss Dixon looked shocked. “But the duke….”

“The devil with the duke,” I said. “Lizzie is much too good a person to be a duchess.”

Miss Dixon laughed and her eyes danced. “Only think what Lady Barbara will say.”

I smiled with satisfaction. 

We walked on in silence for a while, our eyes fixed on the couple in front of us. They slowed, then stopped and turned toward us. “I’m going to show Lord Roger that patch of wild blueberries we came across the other day. Would you mind waiting for us, Julia?”

“Of course not. I’m a little fatigued anyway.”

As Lizzie led Lord Roger down a narrow trail that led into deep woods, Maria said, “What a whisker, Julia. You’re never fatigued!”

“A blueberry patch in Hyde Park,” Miss Dixon said. She was smiling. “How fascinating.”

I pointed to a near-by bench. “Let’s sit and give Lizzie some time to bring Lord Roger up to scratch.”

We sat for half an hour trying to ignore the cold. Maria was shivering and I was beginning to think Lizzie was never going to return from the mythical blueberry bush when she and Roger finally stepped out onto the path. Lizzie was glowing. You could warm your hands at her smile, I thought.

I grinned at her. “Do you have news to share?”

“Yes. But we’re going to keep it a secret until I can get Papa back to London. Roger needs to speak to him.”

“What about the duke? Maria blurted.

Roger smiled at her. He really was a handsome young man and right now he looked almost as radiant as Lizzie. “I’ll tell him, of course. He won’t believe his little brother snagged the prettiest girl in England, but he’ll be happy for me. He’s always been my greatest supporter in the family.”

Miss Dixon and I exchanged glances.

“Of course he’ll be happy,” Lizzie said. “How could he be otherwise?”

This was true. The duke could hardly admit that he had been beaten out by his scholarly little brother. After all, I thought, it was his own fault for taking too long to make Lizzie an offer.

* * * *

I was happy for Lizzie, but my own life had turned into a sad muddle.  Evan had laid out a huge amount of money to find me a husband and so far the only person who was even remotely acceptable had disappeared from London without a word.  I wanted desperately to go back to Stoverton, but somehow the thought of living there by myself wasn’t as appealing as it once had been.

I told myself I would have felt differently if I was marrying Tom Winston.  Sir Matthew would love Tom.  He would fit very well into Stoverton, and I was certain he would be a help to me in getting the farms back into full production. 
And
he had promised he would wangle me a ride with the Quorn.  Tom had said that once Mr. Assheton Smith, the Master, saw how well I rode, I would be welcome to join them whenever I wished.

But the truth was, I didn’t miss Tom the way I missed Evan. Tom didn’t light up a room just by walking into it. I couldn’t meet Tom’s eyes and know exactly what he was thinking, the way I could with Evan. Tom didn’t make my heart beat faster when he touched me.

I was in a dismal mood when the morning post came the next day. I had just come down the stairs and I said to the footman who was holding the postal delivery, “I’m going to the dining room, Sidney. I’ll take it to her ladyship.”

“Thank you, Lady Julia,” he replied and gave me the bundle.

As I walked down the hall I riffled casually through the various notes; then I stopped as suddenly as if I had run into glass.  Aside from the usual invitations there were two letters.  One was addressed to my aunt and was sent from Stoverton. 

Hope flared in my heart.  Perhaps Evan was writing to say he was coming back to London.  I walked faster, wanting to hear what he had written, but before I went into the dining room I glanced at the second letter in my hand.  It was addressed to me.  I halted and looked at the name of the sender.  It had come from Sheffield. 

Tom
, I thought. Fortunately I was wearing a dress with pockets and I quickly slipped the letter out of sight. I had a prescient feeling that Aunt Barbara would not allow me to receive a letter from a gentleman unless she had first read it herself.

I put Evan’s letter and the invitations in front of Aunt Barbara and took my place at table.  There was a rack of buttered toast in front of me and I put one slice on my plate and accepted a cup of tea from the footman. 

Aunt Barbara opened the letter, perused it, and looked up at Lizzie and me. “Evan will be returning to London later today.” She sounded pleased. “It’s certainly time. We have sorely missed the company of a gentleman.”

My heart leaped in my chest.  He was coming back today!  Suddenly, I was hungry.  There were eggs, sausages and muffins on the sideboard, and I piled them on my plate and began to eat with an appetite I had not known in days. 

It wasn’t until breakfast was finished and I was going back upstairs that I thought of Tom’s letter. What if Tom had gone home to speak to his father about me? What if he was going to propose? What if I had to marry him?

Once that happened, Evan would go back to America and I would never see him again. I trailed upstairs to my room feeling the cloud of heavy misery that had been my companion ever since Evan left settle over me again. My future looked bleak indeed.

Chapter Thirty-two

I walked slowly into my bedroom and took Tom’s letter out of my pocket. A small sofa nestled under the window and I sat to get the outdoor light.

I remained for a while, just staring at the letter and talking to myself.  Being married to Tom won’t be that bad. He’s nice and he’s fun to be with and I’ll be living at Stoverton, which is all I’ve ever wanted.  He’ll fit in there perfectly. We can go hunting together and ride across the estate together… 

This was where my positive thinking stumbled.  If we’re married I’ll have to sleep with him.

I liked Tom, but I didn’t want to sleep with him. 

I’d like to sleep with Evan.

I looked quickly around, afraid that someone might have heard my thought. My heart was beating like a drum, but no one was in the room except me. I was the person afraid of my thought, afraid of what it revealed.

I covered my face with my hands.  This was terrible.  How had I gone from hating the unknown American who was stealing my heritage to loving him?  I had never been good at dissembling; how was I to face Evan with this knowledge in my heart?

I sat in the sun as it streamed through the window and thought back over the months we had known each other.  I thought of the things we had done, the times we had been together, and I came to the conclusion that Evan wasn’t indifferent to me either.  There was something between us, and he sensed it as well as I.

But what was to be done? Evan was going back to America and I was certain he wouldn’t want to take me with him. What good would I be to him in America? What good would I be to myself? I wasn’t a very adaptable person and I would probably make the both of us miserable.

And I had a duty to Stoverton.  I was the only Marshall left who cared about it.  I couldn’t let it fall into decay while I sailed off to Massachusetts.  If I ever was asked to sail to Massachusetts, which was unlikely. 

The letter I still held in my hand was sticking into my cheek and I lifted my face and smoothed it out. Then I opened it and began to read.