Authors: Diane Farr
She frowned and stared out the window at the darkening sky, thinking. The best way to avoid a scene would be to think of some other gentleman, equally acceptable to her family, whose name she could immediately suggest as a substitute for Mr. Ellsworth. But who? Ther
e were so few truly wealthy men
... and those she had already met had shown admiration, but little serious interest in her. Except, of course, for Sir James Filey. And, come to think of it, one or two others in his circle. Older men, still clinging to the trappings of the last century. Men with dissipated faces and drawling voices and languid gestures and cruel smiles. She shuddered, remembering. They had all been horrid.
She looked again at Mr. Ellsworth, almost wistfully. Of all the men that Mama had ordered her to encourage, he truly was the best of the lot. What a pity that Hannah loved him. And, of course, that Derek had shown up.
On the whole, since Derek
had
shown up, she supposed she must be glad that Hannah loved Mr. Ellsworth. It would be harder to justify giving him up, if she had no other excuse to offer Mama than her own feelings. She watched, smiling a little, as Mr. Ellsworth shook out Hannah
’
s pillows for the umpteenth time. It seemed plain to her that someday
—
perhaps not this year, nor the next, but someday
—
Mr. Ellsworth would marry Hannah. And believing that, plus knowing Hannah
’
s feelings, gave her a perfectly respectable reason to look elsewhere.
She did wish that
‘
looking elsewhere
’
allowed her to look at Derek Whittaker. But she did not share his sanguine belief that everything would work out, nor his trust in lucky stars. Her smile faded as she contemplated this unpleasant truth. She would have a week or two, at most, in which to indulge her dreams. Then it would be on to London, and another suitor selected from the ranks of the obscenely
rich. Unless a miracle happened
... but
Cynthia
feared that she had already used up her portion of divine intervention. The death of Sir James Filey had been her miracle. She dared not expect another.
Darkness settled in, and the party scattered to dress for dinner. A walking cane was brought to Hannah, and she proudly demonstrated how well she could hop about with its assistance. Nevertheless, Mr. Ellsworth insisted that she be carried up to her bedchamber and that she have her dinner sent up on a tray. She wrinkled her nose at him and laughingly told him that he worried too much. Still, it was clear that his concern pleased her, and although she hobbled along the passage on her own she did allow the footmen
—
supervised by Mr. Ellsworth
—
to carry her up the stairs.
Lady Malcolm
’
s interesting situation was not deemed sufficient to upset the smooth running of the household. Dinner was served at the usual hour. Lord and Lady Malcolm, Mr. Whittaker and Lady Hannah were absent, but the other adults gathered as if nothing unusual were occurring upstairs. The duke and duchess
’
s sense of decorum dictated that no one mention what was uppermost in everyone
’
s minds, so conversation was intermittent and a bit random.
The suspense was nerve-wracking. Everyone at the table seemed to have one ear cocked for the approach of any news on the other side of the dining room door. They were politely listening, with the other ear, to one of the duke
’
s sporting anecdotes when His Grace abruptly fell silent in the middle of a sentence. Firm, rapid footsteps could be heard crossing the hall outside the dining room. A low voice spoke briefly to the footman outside, and the door was flung open.
The surgeon entered, neat as wax, and beaming despite his evident fatigue. He bowed very low to the duke and duchess.
“Y
our Grace,
”
he said, aiming his speech neatly at the air between the two.
“I
t
’
s a boy.
”
Pandemonium broke out. Hannah
’
s fourteen year-old sister, Lady Elizabeth, actually tossed her serviette in the air and cried,
“H
urrah! Well done, Aunt Natalie!
”
“O
h, Betsy, hush,
”
protested sixteen year-old Lady Jane, laughing with delight even as she pretended to be scandalized by her younger sister
’
s outburst. The duke rested one elbow briefly on the table and covered his eyes with his hand for a second or two, hiding the strong emotions that naturally seized him, but he swiftly regained control. Not even the birth of the first male Chase in thirty-six years could unman the Duke of Oldham. He took a deep breath, straightened, and calmly inquired after the infant
’
s health.
“H
e
’
s a fine, healthy child, Your Grace,
”
the surgeon assured him, his eyes twinkling.
“L
arge, well-formed
—
and exceedingly loud.
”
Even the duke laughed at this. Among the congratulations and exclamations that broke out, the duchess raised an imperious hand.
“P
ray tell me, Mr. Turner, how is my daughter-in-law?
”
she asked.
“L
ady Malcolm is resting comfortably, Your Grace.
”
“A
ll went well?
”
“V
ery well, Your Grace.
”
The duchess
’
s shoulders relaxed, and she nodded.
“T
hank you,
”
she said quietly. Her eyes sought her husband
’
s, and she smiled.
“C
ongratulations, William.
”
“T
hank you, my dear.
”
The duke
’
s countenance was warm with pleasure. It was the softest expression
Cynthia
had seen him display.
Emotions ran high, not only at the head and foot of the table but around the entire room. Under the cover of Jane and Betsy
’
s impetuous hugging and Lady Ballymere
’
s more temperate offer of felicitations to the duke and duchess,
Cynthia
’
s eyes were drawn to Lady Grafton. She saw the marchioness surreptitiously slip her hand into her husband
’
s, and witnessed the twinge of sadness in the smiles Lord and Lady Grafton exchanged.
Cynthia
felt a pang of sympathy. It must be bittersweet, for them, that Lord Malcolm had sired the anxiously-awaited heir after all their years of failure. Lord Grafton was next in line and would inherit the dukedom in due course, but his nephew, not his son, would follow him.
Cynthia
had observed how hard it was on Lady Malcolm to carry the weight of the Chase family hopes. Lady Grafton, as she produced daughter after daughter, must have seen her children awaited with the same bated breath
—
only to have them greeted, at least initially, with disappointment. How heartbreaking, how devastating, that must
have been for her. It would be
for any mother.
Seated at the duke
’
s elegant dinner table, with candlelight sparkling in the crystal and gleaming mellowly on china and silver,
Cynthia
sat, untouched by the rejoicing that surrounded her, and brooded on the poverty of her sex. Why was it, she wondered, that the snowy linens, the china, the crystal, the silver, the servants, the palace itself and all its contents, should pass to the squalling infant upstairs rather than to his sisters or his aunts? For the first time, the ancient system of passing wealth through the male line struck her as inherently unfair.
She frowned down at her plate and gave herself a mental shake. What was the matter with her? Everything seemed to upset her these days. It must be her new mood of rebellion, or her newborn determination to think for herself. Or perhaps she was merely suffering a touch of the megrims. If she continued on like this, questioning every established rule of life, she would likely end her days in Bedlam.
Chapter
16
Malcolm could not be torn from Natalie
’
s side, so Derek strolled downstairs alone. Happiness and relief made him feel almost giddy with contentment. He had seen both mother and child
—
for a space of, perhaps, twenty seconds
—
and could now confirm to anyone interested that Natalie was safe and the Chases had their baby boy at last. He hoped they would take his word for it. Anyone who wanted to see for themselves would jolly well have to wait for morning. He had achieved his own glimpse by ducking in unannounced, but Malcolm was now closely guarding his wife and son
’
s slumber.
Humming, he headed past the drawing room and continued down the next flight of stairs, hoping
Cynthia
would have returned to the library after dinner. To his disappointment, the room contained only Lady Hannah Chase, stretched out on a sofa and morosely leafing through a slender volume of sonnets.
Cynthia
must have retired, very correctly, to the drawing room with the rest of the crowd. For a lady supposedly engaging in an illicit romance, she certainly was difficult to separate from the pack. He was going to have to explain the rules of the game to her: when everyone gathers in the drawing room, make some excuse to go elsewhere. Give a chap half a chance to see y
ou alone. Follow the example of
... Lady Hannah.
Hmm. This was interesting. What the deuce was Hannah doing, all by herself in the library?
“H
allo, my lady,
”
he said cheerfully, leaving the door very properly open behind him as he entered.
“A
m I interrupting you?
”
She closed her book hurriedly.
“O
h, no, Mr. Whittaker. Certainly not. How is Aunt Natalie? Have you seen her?
”
“I
have, and am here to report that your aunt and your new cousin both seem to be in excellent health. They have been through a hair-raising experience, however, and are sleeping it off together.
”
He dropped into a wing chair across from her and filled her in on the few details he knew. Hannah seemed glad enough to see him, but it seemed to Derek that she had been hoping for someone other than himself to walk in the door.
He inquired after her health and she told him, with great relish, of the terrific pain she had endured, the palpitations of fear she had suffered when the surgeon examined her, the misery and inconvenience of icing one
’
s injuries in March, and the horrific colors her knee had turned. She was illustrating with her hands the diameter of her swollen knee, modestly hidden beneath a lap rug, when John Ellsworth walked in. Hannah
’
s face visibly brightened. She interrupted herself in the middle of her recitation to greet him, seeming to forget everything she had been about to say.
Ah, yes, Derek knew the feeling well.
He watched with some amusement as Mr. Ellsworth hurried to Hannah
’
s side, scolding her gently for placing herself too far from the bell pull, and for going off alone.
“F
or what if you should need something?
”
he reminded her anxiously.
“A
cane will not safeguard you against further injury. Indeed, it may
add
to the danger you are in, by giving you a false sense of independence. You could very well fall a second time, trying to cross the room to summon assistance! Really, it is most imprudent. You must not run unnecessary risks.
”
Lady Hannah looked pleased by all this rubbish. She seemed about to speak when Mr. Ellsworth startled her into silence by seizing her hand and patting it.
“A
nd I must say, my dear girl, I think any idea of your leaving the house and actually walking abroad
—
particularly in the dark
—
must be abandoned at once. I have come here to beg you
—
to persuade you, if I can
—
that you must not do such a thing.
”
He seemed quite agitated. Hannah stared at him, her color fluctuating.
“W
hy, I
—
that is
—
certainly, John. If you think it unwise
—”
“I
ndeed I do.
”
He spoke vehemently, dropping into the chair closest to the sofa and still retaining her hand.
“W
ill you promise me, Hannah?
Promise
me you will not do anything so foolhardy.
”
Hannah glowed.
“I
promise,
”
she breathed, starry-eyed. Derek felt almost as if he should tiptoe away rather than witness this scene; it had taken on a distinct note of intimacy. He wasn
’
t sure exactly what Hannah had just promised, and would have bet a monkey Hannah didn
’
t know, either. It didn
’
t seem to matter. From the look on her face, she would have promised John Ellsworth dashed near anything.
Ellsworth looked relieved. He patted her hand one last time and released it.
“T
hank you. You had me very worried, you know.
”
“D
id I?
”
She looked a bit lost.
“W
ell, of course you did.
”
He leaned earnestly toward her, lowering his voice.
“I
would be happy
—
honored
—
to speak privately with you at any time you desire. Anywhere you say. Why wouldn
’
t I?
”
She blinked at him. He seemed to expect a reply.
“W
hy, indeed?
”
she murmured obligingly.
“W
e can talk about anything you like.
”
“C
an we?
”
She still looked confused.
“T
hank you.
”
He beamed.
“N
o need to leave the house and tiptoe about in the shrubbery, eh? Ha, ha. I daresay Whittaker will excuse us here and now, if you like. Or not,
”
he added hastily.
“I
f you
’
d rather do it another time.
”
They both turned to Derek, Ellsworth looking expectant and Hannah apprehensive. He coughed.
“I’
ve no objection. Shall I go away, Lady Hannah?
”
She was slowly turning pink.
“W
ell,
”
she hedged.
“I
—
I hardly know. What do you think, John?
”
Thus appealed to, Mr. Ellsworth puffed his cheeks and looked uncomfortable.
“W
hy, my dear Hannah, it is entirely up to you. I am at your disposal. You have promised not to walk more than you should on that injured knee of yours, and I can ask nothing more than that. I really have no other stipulation.
”
Hannah glanced dubiously from John to Derek and back again.
“W
ell,
”
she said hesitantly,
“
if you really do not care one way or the other, I think
—
I think I had rather go upstairs now. Will you take me? I do not think I need be carried, if you will give me your arm.
”
“O
f course. Delighted. Happy to be of assistance.
”
Ellsworth jumped up with alacrity and, seemingly, relief. He handed Lady Hannah her cane.
“T
ake my arm on your injured side, dear girl, and use the cane on your uninjured side. Yes, yes, that
’
s right. Excellent.
”
And so, with Hannah leaning heavily on Mr. Ellsworth
’
s arm and balancing with the cane on her other side, the two of them bade Derek good night and progressed slowly toward the library door. Ellsworth kept up a steady stream of gentle admonitions and instructions, seeming completely focused on guiding Hannah
’
s faltering steps.
Courtesy dictated that Derek remain on his feet while Lady Hannah was still in the room, so he was in an excellent position to see what happened when they reached the threshold. Mr. Ellsworth, muttering something that sounded like,
“A
nd we shan
’
t need this any more, shall we?
”
pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and, in one motion, crumpled it with his fist and tossed it into a wastebasket. He then returned his attention to begging Hannah to mind her step:
“F
or the floor out here is quite slick, I am afraid. Very highly polished, upon my soul.
”
Derek
’
s curiosity, already roused by the peculiar scene he had just observed, instantly got the better of him. The moment Ellsworth and Lady Hannah were out of sight, he nipped over to the wastebasket.
“I’
ve missed my calling in life,
”
he muttered ruefully as he rummaged among the bits of paper in the bottom of the basket.
“S
hould have been a spy. I
’
ve a gift for it. Heigh-ho, what
’
s this?
”
He spread out the wadded-up sheet. It appeared to be notepaper, and of the finest quality, folded neatly in half. Inscribed on the outside in flowing, feminine handwriting were the initials:
“J
.E.
”
What Mr. Ellsworth had tossed away was a note
—
a note from a lady. Interesting.
Derek took the sheet of folded paper back to the center of the room, where the lamp was. He sat on the sofa recently vacated by Lady Hannah and stared at the note, turning it over and over in his hands. Should he open it? Probably not. Whatever it was, it was clearly intended for eyes other than his.
On the other hand, it was more than human nature could resist. He reminded himself that the message couldn
’
t possibly be private or important, since Ellsworth had thrown the thing away. His conscience was only moderately appeased, but
‘
moderately appeased
’
would have to do. Having
retrieved the note, he was deuce
d well going to read it.
He flicked the note open with his thumb and smoothed out the creases. The message was short, and the handwriting beautifully clear.
I must speak privately with you on a matter of grave importance. I rely upon your discretion and your chivalry, and beg you to come to the orangery at midnight tonight. Pray do not fail, for my need is urgent and I know not where to turn if not to you.
He read it once. Twice. His mind could make no sense of it at first. The note was unsigned. Except for the
“J
.E.
”
on the outside it might have been addressed to anyone. And yet, oddly, he was finding it difficult to breathe, as if all the air in the library had been sucked out by some malevolent spirit, leaving him choked and dizzy. It was as if his body understood the meaning of the note before his brain did.
Eventually, of course, his brain caught up.
John Ellsworth had received this note and had assumed that it came from Hannah Chase. That much was plain as a pikestaff. Apparently modest Mr. Ellsworth could not conceive of any other lady sending him such a note. But it seemed to Derek, from Lady Hannah
’
s evident confusion a few minutes hence, that Hannah had
not
sent the note. And the list of ladies other than Hannah who might have sent it was woefully short. In fact, he could think of only one other lady whose name could reasonably appear on that list.
Derek felt as if a leaden weight had descended on his chest, making it difficult to breathe. He stared at the note, unwilling to believe the evidence of his eyes. He felt nearly as sick as he had felt that long-ago day in Lord Stokesdown
’
s town house, reading the notice of
Cynthia
’
s engagement to Filey. For some minutes he tried desperately to think of an innocent explanation for the cryptic message he held in his hands. Why, apart from the obvious, would
Cynthia
seek a midnight rendezvous with John Ellsworth? He cudgeled his brain, but to no avail. No innocent explanation occurred to him. Whatever was afoot, it was anything but innocent.