Nadia came slowly toward her. “I suppose you could say that.”
“Well?”
“You know that Rupert told me that he was attending morning service at St. George’s with his mother and Miss St. Julienne? Well, it was a lie. Miss Hart has just said in passing that he was at the Grosvenor Chapel this morning and that he went outside with Leonie Conyngham.” Nadia’s green eyes were thoughtful. “He’s pursuing her, Imogen. I now know it for certain.”
“Are you ready to leave?” asked Leonie abruptly.
Nadia looked at her in surprise. “Leave? But what of Guy?”
“I’m no mood to wait for him.”
Nadia raised an eyebrow, but wisely left the subject of Guy. “I’ll stay here a little longer. There’s something I wish to do.”
Imogen stared at her. “Do? What?”
“Gain Stella’s confidence.” Nadia smiled.
At that moment there was a knock at the front door, and Joseph appeared to attend to it. A delivery boy stood there, a very large basket of red roses in his arms. “Is this the residence of Miss Conyngham?” he inquired.
“It is.”
“These are for her.” The boy thrust the basket into Joseph’s arms, waited for a small tip, and then hurried away.
Joseph carried the basket carefully to the table, watched all the while by Imogen and Nadia. The moment he had gone to find Leonie, they hurried to inspect the card that lay among the flowers.
Nadia picked it up. “ ‘To Leonie,’ ” she read out, “ ‘whose loveliness eclipses these poor blooms, and whose face haunts my every dream, R.’ ” Her face went very pale. “The writing is Rupert’s,” she said quietly, dropping the card back among the roses.
Imogen nodded. “So he isn’t
always
reticent, is he?” she remarked dryly.
Nadia glanced coldly at her and then turned away.
Imogen smiled a little. “Well, I’m leaving now, and if you wish to change your mind and come with me…?”
“No. I’ll stay.”
Meanwhile, Guy had at last managed to calm Stella down, and she was no longer crying, but from time to time she sniffed a little, and her lips trembled.
He sat on the bed beside her once more. “That’s better,” he said gently. “You mustn’t tire yourself out anymore. You’ve had quite a morning of it so far.”
“Miss Hart
is
fibbing, Uncle Guy, you must believe me.”
“I do.”
She stared. “You do?”
“Yes.”
“Oh.” She toyed with the coverlet. “If you knew she was fibbing, why didn’t you say so? Why don’t you take me away from here, and take Leonie away too?”
He gave a quick laugh. “Not so fast, young lady. It isn’t as easy as that. I have my reasons for saying nothing, and they’re good reasons, believe me.”
She searched his face for a moment. “It’s because of Leonie, isn’t it? Because she needs to stay here?”
“Yes.”
The reply satisfied her, but something else still did not. “But, Uncle Guy, if you and I can tell that Miss Hart isn’t being honest about it, why can’t Imogen see it too?”
“Perhaps she still feels a certain loyalty to Miss Hart. After all, she was a pupil here for some time. Now, then, can we talk about something else?”
“All right, but, Uncle Guy….” She hesitated. “I know I said a lot of things about Imogen at Grillion’s—”
“From the tone of your voice I’d say you were about to express no regret whatsoever, and that being the case, I’d prefer it if you left it unsaid.”
He’d anticipated her perfectly and she didn’t like it very much. She looked away, her lips set a little rebelliously. “I do wish you didn’t love her,” she. muttered.
“Stella—” he began warningly.
“All right,” she said quickly, “I won’t say anything else about her. Let’s talk about the frost fair instead. Have you seen it yet?”
He relaxed a little, for the frost fair didn’t seem a particularly difficult topic. “No, I haven’t, but I understand it’s set to be quite an attraction.”
She glanced at the window. It was snowing heavily outside still. “Would you take me to see it? Oh, please say you will.”
“No.”
“Oh, but—”
“No! I told you the other night why I wouldn’t, and nothing’s changed since then.”
Resentment bubbled up inside her then. Yes, something
had
changed since then; she’d spoken rudely about Imogen on two separate occasions. He’d have taken her to the fair if it hadn’t been for that! She was being punished again because of Imogen! “Why won’t you take me?” she demanded.
“I’ve already explained. Such a place isn’t at all proper, and I will riot countenance taking you.”
“That isn’t your real reason, is it!” she cried, tears leaping into her eyes again. “It’s because of Imogen!”
“Don’t be silly.”
“I’m not being silly! You’re angry with me because of her, and so you’re punishing me!”
He stared at her. “I don’t think you mean that,” he said quietly.
“I do! I do!” she cried, her voice rising. “You’d do anything to keep her happy. You don’t care about me at all!”
Slowly he got up. “Perhaps I’d better go,” he said. “You’re overwrought and it will do no good for me to remain here while you’re in this state.”
Stella turned away when he had gone, hiding her face in her pillow again, sobbing as if her heart was breaking.
Guy went slowly downstairs, halting as he saw Nadia waiting there alone. “Miss Benckendorff? Where’s Imogen?”
She smiled a little awkwardly. “She…er, left a short while ago.”
He sighed inwardly.
“Sir Guy, I was wondering if it would be permissible for me to sit with Stella for a while?”
He looked at her in surprise, for it was very strange that she of all people should make such an apparently kind, concerned offer. “Why, yes, I’m
sure it would,” he replied. “Although at the moment I think she’s a little overwrought.”
“But that is understandable, is it not? I will go to her—maybe I can help.” Nadia smiled again, and walked past him to go up the staircase.
He watched her for a moment and then noticed the basket of roses, which still stood waiting on the table. He glanced at the card, and at that moment he heard Leonie’s light steps approaching from the school wing. He turned as she entered the vestibule. “Good morning, Miss Conyngham,” he said, and his voice echoed a little.
She started. “Oh! G-good morning, Sir Guy.” She felt very much at a disadvantage. When he had ignored her earlier, she had been immeasurably hurt, believing it was because of the argument at Grillion’s. That had been bad enough, but now Katy had told her what Miss Hart had said to him when he had arrived, which made the snub he had delivered appear in a very different light—it meant that he believed the headmistress.
He smiled a little, gesturing toward the roses. “You appear to have an ardent admirer.”
The smile confused her. “Yes, I’m afraid that I do.”
“Afraid?”
“I don’t like the gentleman concerned and I don’t intend to keep his flowers.”
“I’m relieved to hear you say that, for he may be a duke, but he’s neither trustworthy nor honorable.” He smiled again. “Don’t return the flowers, it would be a shame to waste them. No doubt there is the usual crop of winter ailments among the young ladies here, and I’m sure their sickrooms would be much brightened by such magnificent blooms.”
She couldn’t help smiling, although his apparent friendliness now still puzzled her. “That is an excellent idea, Sir Guy.”
“Miss Conyngham, may I have a word with you in private?”
Her heart sank. “Of course. Please come through to the visitors’ room, I believe it’s unoccupied now.” She was shaking a little as she conducted him to the empty room, where she turned to face him. “Sir Guy, if this is about the accident, I wish to say that I didn’t neglect my duties.”
“You think I don’t realize that?”
She stared at him. “But—”
“I once told you that Miss Hart wasn’t to my liking, and now I assure you that she’s even less so. But she is your employer and I know how important this position is to you, and for that reason alone I allowed the matter to pass unchallenged. If it hadn’t been for your situation, Miss Conyngham, I would most definitely have put the old toad firmly in her place.” He looked at her. “You do know why she lied don’t you?”
“No.”
“In order to appease Nadia Benckendorff, who now wishes you away from here as ardently as she once wished you to stay.”
“But why?”
“We need look no further than that basket of roses for the answer to that. She’s jealous of Thornbury’s continued interest in you, Miss Conyngham, and I happen to know that she’s already been here once to request Miss Hart to dismiss you— Miss Hart refused because she required Countess Lieven’s permission before taking such a step.”
“How do you know all this?”
“Imogen told me. Nadia wanted her to accompany her here, but Imogen would have nothing to do with it; indeed she advised Nadia not to come.”
Leonie looked away. So that was what that visit had been about! And how typical of Imogen to slide neatly out of all mention of her own participation! Leonie’s breath caught a little then, for why had Imogen come too? She had seemed as determined as Nadia, and she had left looking as furious—surely it couldn’t be that she too was jealous! Slowly Leonie glanced up at Guy. Oh, if only such a jealousy could be well-founded.
He hadn’t noticed her thoughtfulness. “Miss Conyngham, I don’t like to think of you enduring not only such severely reduced circumstances but also the considerable spite and vindictiveness of others. If anything like this should happen again, I want you to tell me.”
“Oh, but—”
“No buts.”
She searched his face for a moment. “I must thank you for your kindness, Sir Guy, but—”
“I said no buts. I shall expect you to turn to me in future, is that clear?”
She hesitated. “Yes,” she said at last.
“Now then, all this having been said, I will come to the real point of wishing to speak in private with you. To begin with, I wish to apologize to you for my conduct at Grillion’s, it was quite inexcusable and you were right to round upon me as you did.”
Her eyes widened in renewed astonishment. “But I was dreadfully rude to you.”
“Justifiably so, and as I recall it,
I
was the one who began the rudeness.” He smiled a little ruefully. “It’s quite some time since I’ve been torn off such a strip, and I’m glad that you saw fit to do it, for it revealed to me not only that you are a young woman of admirable spirit but also that you have a great affection for my niece. It is because of this last that I really wish to speak to you, for I wish to enlist your assistance.”
“Assistance?”
“I’ve just left Stella in tears again. She persists in believing that I deliberately side with Imogen against her, which simply isn’t true. I love Imogen very much, but I’m not blind to her faults. I also love Stella, but I cannot give in to her. You do understand that, don’t you?”
She nodded. “Yes, I do.”
“That’s the crux of it, Miss Conyngham. You understand my position, and you’re fond of Stella. I believe that she adores you and will listen to what you have to say.”
“Oh, I think you overestimate my influence,” she said quickly.
“I don’t think so. Nor do I underestimate you in any way.” His dark eyes held her gaze. “I’m convinced that if Stella gives
you
her word that she will behave, then she will abide by it. I want this whole situation to be resolved as quickly as possible, for I don’t relish it in the slightest, and apart from that I’m anxious that she learns quickly that success doesn’t come from such odious conduct. Unless she learns that, Miss Conyngham, I shudder to think how she will eventually turn out.”
She’ll turn out like Imogen, thought Leonie uncharitably.
“Will you speak to her for me, Miss Conyngham? Will you try to extract a promise so that she can come home again? I’m due to be at Poyntons for the betrothal celebrations on the ninth of February, and that’s not very far ahead now. I’d like her to be with me when I go.”
“I’ll do my best for you, Sir Guy, but I cannot say that I will succeed.”
“I think that you will,” he said softly. He gave a slightly embarrassed laugh then. “And for my part I’ll attempt to reason with Imogen, if she’ll deign to speak to me.”
“Deign? I don’t understand.”
“She left a little…er, angrily, shall we say?”
“Oh.”
He smiled. “I’m beginning to fear I’m losing my touch with the fair sex. First there was the debacle at Grillion’s, then my niece’s unshakable belief that I am at all times a monster, and now my intended bride has stalked off in a veritable fury. I can do no right, and it’s becoming quite depressing.”
She returned the smile. “Oh, I’m certain that your touch is as sure as ever it was, sir.”
There was a wry devilment in his glance then. “I wonder how I should take that remark, Miss Conyngham? I’ve already been on the receiving end of your tongue’s unerring sting, and have thus learned a little caution. Are you saying that my touch is always flatteringly excellent? Or are you hinting rather that it’s never been even adequate?”
“Which way would you like me to have meant it?” she countered.
“Oh, most definitely the former.”
“Then so be it.”
He took her hand and raised it jestingly to his lips. “You’re very kind, and my bruised pride is already fully restored.” He became more serious then, still holding her hand as he looked down into her face. “You’re wasted here in this wretched place, Leonie Conyngham. You should be out in society, where you belong.”
Her heart seemed to stop within her at the warmth in his eyes and in his voice. His fingers tightened momentarily around hers, and for a fleeting, breathless moment she thought he would kiss her. But then, abruptly, he released her. The spell shattered and it was as if the atmosphere which had suddenly sprung up between them had never been.
He moved away. “I think it’s time that I left, for no doubt you’ve many duties to attend to, even on a Sunday.” He spoke lightly, but she knew that he was as conscious as she of the moment that had just passed.
“I…I will do what I can to persuade Stella.”