A Grand Deception (18 page)

"He told me of his intentions yesterday and asked for my
help as to where he might find a certain gift for you."

Her beautiful fan. What a fool she had been to discard it.

"I cannot think he left of his own volition." Freddie's anxious expression was one Muriel did not recognize. "I fear
something is amiss here. And from my limited exposure to
his parent, I deem his mother ... domineering. Perhaps it
would not be out of the question that she would behave in a
rash and unexpected manner."

"Last night Sherwin told her we wished to be married.
I'm afraid she did not take it well." Muriel pushed away
from the table in a sudden feeling of restlessness, clutching
the cloth napkin in her hand. "Actually, Lady Amhurst refused to consider our match."

"Knowing what we do, we cannot remain idle." Freddie
sounded angry and took to his feet, as if he were ready to
take action.

"I am not in the position of calling the Runners to find
him, nor are you, without raising unwanted attention." Muriel
set the napkin aside and stood. Never had she felt so helpless.
"You must tell me, what is to be done?"

"Something is very, very wrong." Freddie moved near her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "I do not
think we can proceed without giving this a bit more thought.
I cannot say what options we have at our disposal."

"We cannot proceed? Do not say so. I am merely a female,
as you and Papa have so often reminded me." She turned to
her brother with tear-filled eyes. "I cannot stand idle. Until
you decide there is something to be done, what would you
have me do, Freddie?"

Loud moaning woke him. Sherwin squeezed his eyes closed
in an attempt to bear the pain in his splitting head. He reached
to touch his temple and confirmed that, despite what he
thought, it remained whole. The moan reverberated again;
this time he heard it from the inside.

The sound had come from him.

It took several minutes of lying still before he had the
courage to pry open his eyes.

Only one at a time.

He lay upon something soft. His bed? Sherwin struggled
to roll to his side and rubbed his face, realizing that his
spectacles were missing. How long had he been here? Was
he ill?

The last thing he remembered was ... Nothing. He needed
a few more minutes to clear his head and for the pounding
to abate.

The turn of a doorknob and creaking of hinges told him
that he was about to have a guest.

"Lord Amhurst?" a soft voice called to him. Movement
and the rustle of fabric reinforced the presence of a female.

"Who's there?" Raising his head, Sherwin squinted toward the doorway, which did nothing to identify his visitor.

"It is Julia ... Julia Shrope." She approached, carrying
something on a tray, and straightened slightly at the door, latching it behind her with the distinct sound of a key turning in the lock.

"Miss Shrope?" He recalled who she was but could not
imagine why, of all people ... "Does your mother know
you're here?"

"Mama is below stairs with Lady Amhurst." Miss Shrope
set the tray on a surface. "They sent me to check on you"

Sherwin made to sit up when she neared the bed, which
caused him considerable pain.

"How are you feeling?" Her kind words and soft touch
did much to calm him, although the pain persisted. "You've
been drugged. Laudanum, I think. Here, drink this. I'm told
it will make you feel better." She held out the glass, and he
hesitated before bringing it to his lips.

Sherwin was willing to give it a try. He sipped at the liquid and choked. "What is that?"

"A bit of brandy." Miss Shrope moved back, reacting at
once to his discomfort.

"No more, I beg you." He did not like it, but after a few
minutes his head seemed to clear, and the pain had marginally subsided. Now that he had his eyes cracked open, Sherwin could tell he was not in his room, or any other, at Lloyd
Place. "Where am I?"

"Sandstone Abbey, Wiltshire."

The name meant nothing to him. "Wiltshire?" How long
had he been asleep?

"More specifically, you are in my brother Grant's room"
Miss Shrope continued to watch him.

"Where is Grant?" Sherwin knew nothing about her
family and wondered why he lay in this room.

"Away at Eton."

It's where he should have been, at school ... no, not Eton.
There was a place more important he needed to be....

Sherwin should have been in London-with Muriel.

"Muriel waits for me" He remembered now. Yet he still
was not quite sure what had happened to him.

"Lady Muriel Worth?"

"Yes" Sherwin had the feeling Miss Shrope knew more
than she let on. "I must call on her this afternoon. Why am I
here?"

"I heard them, our mothers, speak of her. I'm sure they
did not think I overheard, but..."

"Yes?" Sherwin had worked his way to the edge of the
bed and slid one booted foot, then the other, to the floor.
"What did they say?"

"They wish us to marry ... our mothers, that is." Miss
Shrope continued to keep her distance from him. "My
mother is not so insistent. At least she wasn't until Lady
Amhurst convinced her that we should suit."

"Marry?" Sherwin grabbed hold of a bedpost to steady
himself.

"Lady Amhurst likes me very well. She's expressed the
need to have a malleable daughter-in-law. My mother could
not have asked for a better match-oh, la, sir, you are an
earl. And she assured her ladyship of my complete cooperation." Her voice trailed to almost an inaudible whisper. "They
believe we will do well together because we are both easily
controlled."

His mother had sunk to a new low. Drugging him was
bad enough, and now openly expressing her plan to manipulate him and another. "I shall have her sent to the Dower
House, at once, upon my return to Marsdon Manor."

"Lady Amhurst has no intention of removing to the Dower
House. She intends to remain the mistress of Marsdon
Manor," Miss Shrope replied, still reserved in her response.
"She made that very clear to my mother."

"I may have been remiss in my duty and inexperienced at
wielding my rank ... I have, however, learned much during
my short stay in Town." In large part, he considered, due to
the Earl of Brent. Perhaps the Dower House would be too
close. A property in or near Scotland might work better for
the future home of the Dowager Countess. Someplace far,
far from him and Muriel.

Sherwin had learned quite a lot from observing Freddie
the past few days in his conduct with the young ladies, peers,
tailors, shopkeepers, persons in service positions in various
establishments, including those at Lloyd Place, and, most
important, Sherwin's mother.

"I believe my mother suspects that I will no longer tolerate her interference." Sherwin would not allow her to manage him or his affairs from this day forward. "That may
explain her desperation. Are you willing to go along with
this plan of our mothers'?"

"It does not matter what I wish, my lord. I will do as I am
bid." Her gaze remained fixed at her feet.

"You would wed against your will?" Why would she allow herself to be pushed into a marriage she did not want?

"I've heard talk of Lady Muriel." She paused and glanced
in his direction. "That she's been- It's very wicked of her.
Are you the man she has been secretly meeting? Is that why
your mother has removed you from Town in this manner?"

He could have laughed. He'd believed the very same unpleasant thought of Muriel at one time. Sherwin tried to look
guilty in order to keep Muriel's secret. Why not allow Miss
Shrope to believe the tale, especially if it would give her a
distasteful impression of him?

"I'm sure there are worse fates than being married to
you." She blushed while making her confession. "But I do not see how I could marry you when it is clear you are already in love with Lady Muriel."

Muriel ... Sherwin didn't like being so far away from
her. He knew the deep, heavy feeling inside his chest would
not dissipate until he saw her again.

"She is my heart." Sherwin felt the lump in his throat
grow larger and found it difficult to swallow. His eyes filled
with tears. He had to believe he would be by Muriel's side
once again. "I must ... I need to get back to London as
soon as possible."

Go to London? We have just come from there, and it is so
very far away." Miss Shrope pressed a hand to her forehead.
"It took us a good part of one day and nearly through the
night to travel here. We only stopped to change horses."

"No, matter. I must be on my way." Sherwin still held
tightly on to the bedpost, unsure of his balance but knowing
for certain what he had to do.

"Shall I have a horse saddled?" She turned from him and
began to pace. "I do not quite know how I will manage without our mothers learning of it."

"I cannot ride," he confessed. How very lowering it was
to admit his inadequacy.

"Prepare a gig for a swift escape, then?"

"I cannot drive." Even with all of Sherwin's education,
he began to see the advantage of the more mundane pursuits he had once thought worthless. They now seemed valuable skills, and he regretted that he had not attempted,
much less mastered, them. Something, he vowed, he would
rectify. "Perhaps it would be best if I did not alert the staff, in any case. As is my situation, it seems they are loyal to
only Lady Amhurst. I'm afraid I shall have to walk."

"Walk? Oh, dear." Miss Shrope clasped her hands before
her. "You cannot. You haven't gloves or a hat!"

"Nonetheless, I cannot allow that to deter me."

"What will happen when you are discovered missing?"
She was quite right to be concerned about that. It was far
more important than traveling without a hat.

"I'm sure my mother will make an effort to have me retrieved. I can assure you, I will do my utmost to thwart any
attempt at discovery." How Sherwin would manage, he wasn't
sure.

"You cannot dash out willy-nilly 'round the countryside;
you are certain to be found." Miss Shrope, by her tone,
seemed overwrought.

Sherwin stepped away from the four-poster bed. "I expect
I have a more pressing problem of escaping the confines of
this house. The door to this room is locked, is it not?"

She glanced back, but Sherwin suspected she must have
already known that. Hadn't he heard her lock-and-key entry?
"I recall how Grant and Douglas, my other brother, would
sometimes sneak out at night. They'd climb down the tree
after curfew."

Sherwin stepped toward the window and peered out, noting the large brownish-colored object close to the building,
which he supposed was the tree. It was not so close that he
would think it reachable from his current position, however.

He reached around for his quizzing glass, which it then
occurred to him he'd purposely left behind when he'd dressed.
Sherwin felt a momentary panic and patted the pocket of
his waistcoat, looking for his lover's eye. Its form under his
fingertips assured him of its presence.

"After a few hours of terrorizing the countryside, they'd be back to bed," Miss Shrope mused aloud. "I never joined
them, of course. But I did hear of their ill deeds the next
morning. I suppose that, in itself, is good reason to send boys
away to school."

Sherwin had certainly never caused such problems, and
if his brothers had, he had never heard of their exploits.

"Are you thinking of using that escape route?" Her gaze
darted to the window.

"I do not see that I have any alternative." Sherwin pushed
the sash window upward and leaned toward the opening.
He couldn't estimate the distance to the ground, but if Miss
Shrope's brothers could manage it, he would do the same.

Sherwin had no idea of his mother's agenda. Surely they
would not proceed to Scotland. To have him recite vows
over an anvil at Gretna Green could not be what his mother
wanted. Lady Amhurst would find an elopement completely
unacceptable. Were they on their way to Marsdon Manor, or
were they to remain at Sandstone Abbey? A parson might
be on his way to the house at that very moment to perform a
marriage ceremony.

"What is my direction once I leave the grounds?" he asked
Miss Shrope.

She turned to stare out the window, as if it somehow aided
her navigation. "Go down the main drive and turn ..." She
tapped the side of her face with her fingertips. "I don't know
if it's south or east."

"No matter," Sherwin assured her. "I've no notion of direction. Left or right will suffice."

"Ah-right, then. Turn right. The village lies directly on
the road. It's not very far by carriage. I suppose by foot it
will seem longer."

Sherwin knew there remained a great chance he would
still get lost. He then glanced down at his new footwear. Descending a tree in his boots would take some skill, probably another one he did not possess. He told himself if Wellington's army could manage with this type of footwear, so
could he.