Elizabeth Mansfield (18 page)

“Then how about this blue silk? You quite swooned over it when we chose the pattern,” Letty reminded her.

“The bodice is cut too low.”

“Too low? What’s the matter with you, Prue? You nagged Mama incessantly until she agreed to permit the dress to be cut this way.”

Prue hung her head. “I don’t care,” she pouted. “I’m not in the mood for it today.”

“I know!” Letty said with sudden inspiration. “Katie, bring her my lilac lustring. The color is so dusky, she’s bound to find it subdued.”

Prue’s face brightened. “Your lustring would be perfect!” she cried, throwing her arms about her sister in gratitude. “Oh, Letty, you’re an
angel
! But … you’re so much taller than I … Don’t you think it will be too long?”

“Perhaps? But if Katie pins it up at the shoulders, and you hold up the skirt just a bit when you walk, I think it should serve.”

***

Prue’s borrowed dress proved to be an excellent choice, for Brandon’s eyes brightened perceptibly when she entered his mother’s drawing room that evening. He was standing beside his mother, leaning on a sturdy stick, and greeting her guests with an eager welcome. When Prue came up to him, he smiled at her uncertainly. “Good evening, Miss Glendenning,” he said shyly. “By your leave, I’d like to say how lovely you l— Oh, hang it all!”

Prue looked up at him startled.

Brandon colored. “I do apologize. I didn’t mean to say it, you know.”

“Say what?” Prue asked, beginning to bristle. “That I look lovely?’

“Of course I meant to say
that.
It was the by-your-leave. It slipped out.”

“Oh,” said Prue. It was now her turn to blush. She turned away in embarrassment. She should never have said those cruel things to him. Now he would have to guard his tongue every time he spoke to her. Nevertheless, she was pleased to see that he apparently approved of her appearance. The look in his eyes when he saw her gave her the courage she needed to proceed on the course of action she had planned to undertake this evening; she had determined to find an opportunity to speak privately to him and apologize for causing his injury.

Roger, who had arrived some minutes earlier, did not fail to note Brandon’s expression when he welcomed Prue. Roger was standing on the far side of the room engaged in conversation with the one unfamiliar guest, Mr. Eberly. Eberly was not much older than Roger, but he appeared to be many years his senior. He was a heavyset, imposing gentleman who had lost much of the hair on his head and seemed to make up for it by the great amount of hair on his face. His eyebrows were remarkably thick, and he sported a large and bushy mustache. He and Roger were discussing with approval the news that had just reached them of the passage in Parliament of a law that abolished the slave trade. Roger had managed to keep the conversation going while he observed Prue and Brandon in the doorway, but when Letty appeared, his concentration failed him.

Letty was indeed breathtaking this evening. Her thick auburn hair was loosely bound and fell in a soft curl over her shoulder. Her face glowed from the reflection of her burgundy-colored belladine silk gown, which rippled gracefully as she moved. Mr. Eberly, following Roger’s eye, smiled appreciatively. “What a lovely woman,” he remarked.

“Yes,” Roger said, the casual tone of his voice giving no indication of the pang the sight of her had caused in his chest. “Very lovely.”

“She must be the Miss Glendenning I’ve been hearing so much about.”

“Well,” Roger explained with a smile, “she’s one of them. She is here with her sister, who also has been turning the heads of the young Bath bucks.”

“Do you mean that charming child over there with the red curls? I’ve noticed her myself. She seems always to be about to trip over her skirt.”

“Yes, she’s the one. Come along and let me introduce you to them.”

When the introductions had been made and the guests had had their sherry, they moved into the dining room where, for more than two hours, they lingered over an excellent dinner, the highlights of which were a delectable veal ragout and a gooseberry trifle. The trifle was a culinary masterpiece concocted of cream, cake, wine, jam, and almonds, but although the guests ate it with relish, they did not remark on it, so interested were they in the conversation that enlivened the dinner. Led by Roger and Mr. Eberly, the discussion centered on the part played by the late Mr. Fox in pushing the abolition bill through Parliament. Roger held that Fox had been a man of tremendous talent and great personal charm, while Mr. Eberly contended that Fox was basically a man of pathetically poor political judgment. Both Lady Upsham and Lady Denham agreed with Mr. Eberly, giving examples of many irresponsible acts Fox had committed in his political life. But Letty, who had been listening quietly through most of the talk, finally felt impelled to speak her mind. “You may be right about Mr. Fox’s other failings,” she said earnestly, “but I cannot help but feel that he deserves most of the credit for the abolition bill’s passage, and I deem it a tragedy that he didn’t live to see this fruition of his most commendable efforts.”

“I think, Miss Glendenning,” said Mr. Eberly, raising his glass to her, “that you’ve evaluated the matter most sensibly. I drink to you, my dear. As far as I’m concerned, you have quite won the day.”

“Hear, hear!” Brandon added with enthusiasm, raising his glass as well.

Letty blushed at the unwonted attention, and quite despite her will, her eyes flew to Roger’s face. His eyes were fixed on her, and they held a look of such unmistakable warmth and pride that her heart
lurched. She quickly looked away and tried firmly but vainly to keep from glancing at him for the duration of the meal.

After the ladies had left the room, the men did not long linger over their port. When they rejoined the ladies in the drawing room, they found that Letty had been prevailed upon to play the piano. They took seats quietly and sat back to listen. Letty had chosen to play a simple country air to which she added impromptu variations, the sort of music with which she often entertained her young sisters. The small group of listeners enjoyed the unpretentious charm of the music as much as her sisters had. Prue, however, did not attend the music. Instead, she moved unobtrusively to the sofa where Brandon had seated himself and slipped into the seat beside him. “There’s something I must say to you,” she whispered.

“Is something the matter?” he whispered back.

“Yes, there is.
I’m
the matter. I’m terribly headstrong and thoughtless. It’s all my fault that you’re injured, and I just have to say how sorry I am that I pushed you out of the carriage.”

Brandon reached impetuously for her hand. “You don’t have to be sorry,” he said, close to her ear. “It was more my fault than yours. I never should have shaken you like that.”

“Well, I never should have been so rude and criticized you so dreadfully,” she whispered into his ear, her breath tickling his neck and causing exquisitely agonizing bumps to form down his back and along his arms.

“Oh, Prue,” he murmured with a catch in his voice, “I—”

But she was not to learn what he intended to say, for the music ended at that moment. He dropped her hand, and they jumped apart, applauding enthusiastically for Letty’s music as if they’d been listening as attentively as the rest. After that, Brandon, although incapacitated, had nevertheless to perform the duties of a host, making sure to give his attention to each of his guests and see that they were entertained and wanted for nothing. No further opportunity presented itself for him to complete the sentence he had started with such a burst of earnest feeling.

Roger, meanwhile, came up to the piano before Letty could leave and, leaning on the instrument, smiled affectionately at her. “You are full of surprises, my dear,” he said. “I didn’t know you were so accomplished a musician.”

“You are surprised, my lord, only because you had prejudged me before we were fully acquainted and arrogantly decided that I
had
no accomplishments,” she answered saucily, feeling more confident with him than she had before she was protected from him by her supposed betrothal.

“That is grossly unfair,” he protested. “Experience had taught me that beautiful young women have little need for other accomplishments and, therefore, don’t trouble to develop them. How was I to know that you are the exception?”

“Stop, please,” she said with a smile. “It is not like you to stoop to such wanton flattery.”

“Do you think I offer you Spanish coin? Far from it, I assure you. Your playing was truly delightful. And your comments on Fox were quite impressive, too. I had no idea that you take an interest in politics.”

“Any person of sense takes an interest in politics, my lord,” she said, “although you must not conclude from one little remark of mine that I’m really knowledgeable.”

“I insist on being permitted to draw my own conclusions, Miss Glendenning,” Roger stated with a twinkle, and helped her to rise from the piano stool. They turned and joined the others. Like Brandon and Prue, they found no other opportunity for private conversation.

Prue was feeling rather pleased with herself by the time Lady Upsham rose and indicated that it was time for them to take their leave. The entire evening had passed without a single instance of
indecorous behavior on her part. She had sat politely beside her aunt, smiling and nodding and saying polite things to anyone who addressed her. She had neither giggled nor laughed loudly; she had not flirted; she had not drawn any attention to herself. In short, she had been a model of decorum, and she was sure that Brandon had noticed. Every time she’d met his eye, he had smiled at her approvingly.

Brandon rose and, leaning heavily on his stick, went to the entryway to bid the guests good night. Prue went up to him and held out her hand. “Do you truly forgive me, Brandon?” she asked in an under-voice.

“You know I do,” he answered feelingly, squeezing her hand tightly.

She met his eye and felt a strange flutter inside her. Hurriedly, she turned to the door to join her aunt and Letty. In her confusion, she forgot to hold up the skirts of her borrowed gown. She stepped on the too-long hem and tripped clumsily. She would have fallen flat on her face had it not been for Mr. Eberly who was standing nearby and swiftly reached out for her. She fell heavily against his chest and looked up at him in mortification. “Oh, how … how clumsy of me,” she gasped. “I’m so sorry!”

Mr. Eberly laughed jovially and set her on her feet. “No need to be sorry,” he said with a booming heartiness. “I quite enjoyed that! It’s not every day that I can play the gallant to a charming young girl.”

Prue glanced quickly around the foyer. Everyone was watching. She had made a fool of herself, and everyone had witnessed it. Her quick glance took in a glimpse of Brandon’s face. He was frowning. In despair, she turned and ran to the door. She had made a spectacle of herself again. Her evening was ruined!

Lady Upsham and Letty, unperturbed at what Prue thought was a dreadful scene, said cheerful good nights, and the three departed. Mr. Eberly stood in the hallway smiling after them. “Charming little chit, Miss Prudence, don’t you think?” he asked Brandon in a jolly man-to-man tone. He had no idea why Brandon chose to glare at him for saying it.

Roger had been an interested observer of the little scene played at the doorway. The whole evening had done much to reinforce his feeling that, whatever tie had bound Letty and Brandon, it was not love. Brandon had been whispering in
Prue’s
ear and had held her hand in a most loverlike fashion all the while that Letty had been at the piano. In Roger’s view, Letty had looked so charming that any man who really loved her would not have been able to tear his eyes from her. And in addition, when Eberly had caught Prue in his arms (when the girl had tripped on her skirts), Brandon had looked as if he would like to call the fellow out. Brandon’s interest in Prue was obvious. On the other hand, as far as Roger could tell, Brandon and
Letty
had not spent a moment in each other’s company, nor had they exhibited an inclination to do so.

Of course, it was possible that Brandon and Letty had agreed to behave in this way to throw Lady Upsham off the scent, that they and Prue had conspired to enact a charade to confuse observers. But Roger’s instincts told him that it was unlikely that Brandon’s and Prue’s behavior could be feigned. He was quite convinced that the two were strongly attracted to each other.

What he needed to ascertain was Letty’s feeling for Brandon. He had never observed their behavior when they were together in private conversation. But he had a plan. He would arrange to take Brandon for a drive the very next day.

Brandon’s gratitude to Roger for his invitation was so sincere that Roger felt a pang of guilt. Brandon, delighted to be freed from his imprisonment indoors on this beautiful late-September day, felt compelled to express his thanks all the while Roger helped him into his rented phaeton and during the first few minutes of the ride. But the subject of gratitude was completely forgotten when Roger suggested that they stop at Lady Upsham’s to see if Letty would care to join them on the drive.

“Letty?” asked Brandon, taken aback. “But … Well, won’t it be a bit awkward?”

“Awkward? Not at all. That’s why I’ve rented this phaeton instead of taking out my curricle. I’ll climb up on the box and leave you two lovebirds alone.”

“That is most … er … thoughtful of you, Roger, but … I was thinking of Lady Upsham. She … er … mustn’t see Letty and me together, you know.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Roger said airily. “I won’t mention that you’re here. You’ll remain outside waiting in the phaeton. I’ll allow her to believe that I’ve come alone. Lady Upsham won’t permit Letty to refuse me.”

“I see …” Brandon said nervously. This situation was not at all to his liking. It was bad enough to have had to acknowledge Letty as his betrothed when it was not true, but it was even worse to have to enact a loverlike role before a witness. Especially before Roger. The fact that Roger was behaving in this excessively kind way made this predicament doubly painful. Besides, he had no skill at dissembling. He was sure to make a mull of it. He was being pulled deeper and deeper into an abyss of dishonesty and deceit. His mind searched desperately for a way of escape. But he could think of nothing except … Prue! Perhaps, with the addition of another person, he would not be forced to play the “lovebird” role. “Er … Roger, do you think, perhaps, that you ought to ask Prue to come along, too?” he suggested
hesitantly.