Valerie King (17 page)

Eugenia called from the doorway. “Lucy, I am to sit between you and Uncle Robert. Papa means to ride in the coach as well.”

“Of course,” Lucy called back to her.

Robert did not want to let the moment slip away but he had no choice. He lowered his hand and turned back with her to move in the direction of the coach. Awareness dawned and he came to his senses. Good God, he had almost kissed her again, the lady with whom Henry was so violently in love. How grateful he was that Eugenia had interrupted them, only he could not help but wonder if Lucy would have allowed the kiss.

Lucy’s heart was pounding so hard that she found it difficult to breathe. He had almost kissed her again and she had wanted him to so very much. What then would have been the result? Would he have been apologetic once more? Regretful? Or this time might he have admitted that something extraordinary existed between them? As she mounted the steps of the coach, she sighed heavily. She simply did not know.

Two days later, Lucy stood on the front steps of Aldershaw conversing with Hetty.

“Did Rosamunde reveal to you where it was she went every week?” Hetty asked.

Lucy did not answer at first. Her gaze was fixed in the distance, to the coach bowling along the drive away from the manor. The large conveyance, laden with Rosamunde’s, Eugenia’s, and George’s trunks, was just turning into the lane heading in the direction of Wiltshire, where Rosamunde’s father had a fine estate. She waved one last time and thought she caught a glimpse of Eugenia’s woebegone face. Though Ginny was excited about the prospect of living with her grandfather, who had always doted on her, she was very sad to be leaving Hyacinth, Violet, and William as well as her other aunts and uncles.

“No,” she said at last, “Rosamunde did not confide in me.”

“Well,” Hetty began, her voice swelling with pride, “she did tell me. It would seem she was not visiting an invalid at all, but rather three robust friends with whom she played whist, drank a great deal of tea, and quite frequently consumed more peach ratafia than four ladies of quality ought ever to imbibe.”

Lucy could only laugh. “Dear Rosamunde. Only, why would she keep secret such an innocuous weekly adventure?”

“I have come to believe that both my brother George and Rosamunde are very private individuals. I daresay Rosamunde did not want anyone knowing that she drank to excess so frequently as she did.”

“No, I suppose not.”

“Did George make amends, Lucy? For I know he was previously quite put out with you.”

At that Lucy smiled. “Actually, he thanked me for ‘interfering’ in his affairs. He had abandoned Baddesley over a year past but he had found it impossible to admit the truth to either his brother or his wife.”

“I still cannot credit that he kept his circumstances from all of us these two years and more. Robert told me very little and I was unwilling to pry. Did George reveal anything more to you? All I know is that the estate is ruined.”

Lucy sighed. “It is not an unusual tale and I do not see that George did anything wrong. The farms on the Baddesley rent rolls were simply unable to produce sufficient income to sustain the estate, but he blamed himself particularly since he had used Rosamunde’s dowry in trying to improve the farms. Perhaps there was a degree of mismanagement on his part, but then not every man has a talent for husbandry.”

“He will do far better in the army. Robert was very right to purchase him a pair of colors.”

“I think George will be very happy wearing a red coat.”

“I could not agree more,” Hetty said. “And so George and his family are gone but Valmaston arrives tomorrow.”

“Yes,” Lucy agreed with a smile, “and I am convinced he will greatly enhance our daily pleasures. He is one of the most amusing gentlemen I have ever known. I even predict that you will like him very much, indeed, despite his reputation.”

At that Hetty lifted her chin a trifle. “I have never approved of libertines and I shan’t begin now.”

“We shall see,” Lucy said. She had every confidence that Valmaston would eventually win Hetty’s approval and possibly even her friendship. “And now I think we ought to go in search of the children. They have been very sad that Eugenia will no longer form part of their daily comings and goings.”

“As well I know.”

“Then I suggest we begin by having them each write a letter to Eugenia today. That will give them something to look forward to, for I know that Eugenia will have no difficulty in responding, as bookish as she is. She will treasure receiving letters from her youngest aunts and uncle. But where are they?”

“The fort, of course,” Hetty said.

“Of course.”

 

 

Later that afternoon, Robert begged Lucy to take a turn about the garden with him. He was oddly contrite. “I believe I owe you an apology, for I was greatly mistaken.”

“In what?” she asked, uncertain what he meant.

“I believed your involvement with George and Rosamunde officious and interfering—those may have even been my words at one time.”

“Yes, they were,” she responded cheerfully.

“You needn’t gloat.”

“I think I should gloat, for you are so quick to criticize me and in this instance you have been proven wrong.”

He shook his head. “You shall get no more of an apology from me than that, not if you are going to behave like a simpleton.”

“Oh, do stubble it, Robert!” she cried, slinging her hands behind her back. “I must tell Quarley to trim back that rhododendron a trifle.”

“The gardens are prettier every day.”

“I only hope they are lovely enough to please Valmaston’s eye.”

“You are being quite obnoxious, my girl.”

“I am, are I not?” She then laughed, but not for long. “I know I have been teasing you but I am not unaware of how painful your interview with George must have been. Were you terribly surprised to learn all the details?”

“How could I be when for the last several months he appeared so guilty when I would ask him about the repairs on Baddesley.”

“Where did he go on those days he said he was overseeing the repairs?”

“He would ride out to various villages and stay at the local inn, do a little fishing, even sightseeing he told me, that sort of thing.”

“You were very right to purchase him a pair of colors.”

“How glad I am that you have expressed your approval,” he said facetiously.

She rolled her eyes at him. “I think he will be very happy in the army.”

“As do I.”

“By the way, have you seen Hetty this afternoon? I have been looking for her but cannot seem to find her. There is something I would ask her.”

“She has taken her walk.”

“Her walk?”

“Lady Sandifort says that once each month she takes a very long walk in the direction of Bickfield, and that she has done so for years.”

“Oh, yes, of course. I believe she referred to it once as her nature walk and says that, though it is very long and in its way tedious, she says that it keeps her feeling quite fit and well.”

Lucy realized as she spoke that there was something odd about Hetty’s
nature walk,
though she said nothing to Robert. Hetty was not in any manner a lady who enjoyed exercise. She did not mind going for rather leisurely walks with the children about the estate but she certainly never made a point of walking out merely to improve her health. And as for horses, Lucy could not get her on the back of one if her life depended on it.

However, she had little time to concern herself with Hetty’s oddities since Valmaston would be arriving from London on the morrow. She could only wonder just what sort of stir he was likely to cause among the family and whether or not Lady Sandifort would be sufficiently pleased with his attentions to continue her unusual cheerfulness and good will toward the family.

“So, tell me, Robert, have you yet forgiven me for having invited Valmaston to Aldershaw?”

“No, of course not. However, I have begun to wonder just what bee is buzzing around your bonnet this time that you would have done so, for I am beginning to understand that you do very little without a strict purpose in mind.”

At that she laughed heartily. “You begin to understand me.”

“I believe I do,” he said.

She glanced up at him and saw that he was not teasing in the least, but rather that he was quite serious in a very penetrating manner. She was completely taken aback and wondered what, if anything, he meant by saying such a thing to her. Her heart turned over in her chest and she felt a blush of hope climb her cheeks.

To be understood—now there was something, indeed!

On the following evening, Lucy entered the drawing room on Lord Valmaston’s arm. If she had had any fears about just how he would conduct himself, they were allayed by his civil, proper behavior as he was introduced to everyone present. That he took Lady Sandifort’s hand in his and kissed the air above her fingers was an attention that actually set her ladyship in a flutter. Lucy could not remember ever having seen Lady Sandifort lose her composure before.

Valmaston moved on and greeted Robert again. Lucy felt that the same understanding the gentlemen had reached in London had transferred to the wilds of Hampshire and she breathed a little easier. For his part, Robert showed not the smallest sign of disliking the rogue’s presence.

Henry, however, was a different matter entirely. He offered but a polite bow and a stiff greeting. Lucy watched him carefully. She found herself surprised by his demeanor, for he appeared as one who would prefer to call Valmaston out rather than share the same drawing room. The earl, however, ignored him and instead turned his attention to the ladies, in particular to Anne and Alice.

Lucy, a trifle put out that Henry would snub her guest, moved to sit beside Hetty. In a low voice, she asked, “So what do you think of him?”

Hetty remained silent and that for so long a time that Lucy glanced at her and saw that she was staring rather dumbly at Valmaston.

“Hetty?”

“I beg your pardon?” she inquired. “What was it you asked?”

“What do you think of my friend?”

Hetty finally turned to look at her and yet it was as though she still did not see her. “You refer to Valmaston?” She gestured to him with a casually flung hand.

Lucy thought her comical, for she had never seen her so rattled before upon merely meeting a man. She nodded.

Hetty once more turned to regard Valmaston. Lucy for her part continued to look at Hetty, noting how her gaze took in his entire figure as he in turn seated himself between Anne and Alice, both of whom had begun to giggle. “I vow, except for my brothers, I have never seen a more handsome man. How is it he has never married?”

“Perhaps he has been waiting for precisely the right lady.”

“Perhaps. His manners are so engaging. Look how Alice laughs, and she never laughs when gentlemen address her!”

“I have known him from the time I was very little and when he would speak with me, even when I was a child, I vow I always felt as though I were the only person in the world.”

“Did you never fancy yourself in love with him?”

Lucy was not so much surprised by the question as by her certain response. “Never, though now that I look at him I only wonder how I could have been so stupid.”

Hetty laughed. “Although, we are both presently forgetting his truly vile reputation.”

“He was always perfectly civil with me.”

“You had your father to keep watch over you.”

Lucy shook her head. “No, you do my friend an injustice, I think. I trust him, Hetty. I always have. I would trust him with my life and I cannot say that about most of the gentlemen I know, your brothers excepted, of course.”

Suddenly, Valmaston was on his feet and addressing Lady Sandifort. “My lady, your daughters have given me such a notion and I was hoping you might oblige us.”

“Anything, my lord,” she said, batting her lashes up at him.

He cleared his throat. “I have not attended a ball for these three months together and I fear I will miss my steps unless I have a little practice. Your stepdaughters have been so kind as to indicate that they would serve as partners for me if we were to dance this evening. Would this be agreeable to you and might I also persuade you to go down a dance or two with me as well?”

“Oh,” she murmured softly. “How could I possibly refuse so sweetly proffered a request?”

 

 

After dinner, the merriment began. As Lucy well knew, Valmaston possessed an enormous ability to charm the female sex and he fulfilled his promise to her with every word, look, and gesture he extended, not just to Lady Sandifort but to all the ladies.

The armory was quickly cleared of furniture, the suit of armor was removed to the nearest antechamber, and Hetty took up her place at the pianoforte. She was greatly skilled and was able to play whatever country dance was commanded of her.

With three gentlemen present, all of whom were enthusiastic in their desire to help the twins, the dancing commenced. Lucy went down the first set with Henry, Anne danced with Robert, and Lord Valmaston partnered Lady Sandifort. The second set, Anne traded places with Alice, for it was of little use for her merely to watch. Lucy saw at once that Alice needed more practice than her sister and she believed she understood just what had prompted Valmaston’s suggestion of dancing in the first place.

In the midst of the dance, Lord Valmaston feigned forgetting his steps—for it was clear he knew them as well as he knew his own name—and bumped into at least three of the other dancers. “How clumsy I am!” he proclaimed.

Only then did Alice begin to smile, to relax, and to enjoy herself.

Because Lady Sandifort had no intention of relinquishing the opportunity to flirt with Valmaston, Lucy found herself watching the dancing nearly the entire time. She noted that Robert took Alice under his wing. He gave her instruction upon instruction in a kind voice with exceeding patience. Alice bloomed beneath his tutelage. Lucy felt such admiration for him in this moment. Not all gentlemen, in fact very few gentlemen, would exhibit so much love and kindness toward a sibling. She felt her heart swell as she watched him. He was completely intent on helping Alice and once or twice, as Valmaston had done, feigned missing his steps merely to set her a little more at ease.