Gayle Buck (10 page)

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Authors: The Hidden Heart

Lord Trilby inwardly groaned. It was a pretty dilemma, indeed, and he had a strong suspicion that it had not been brought about by accident. The Grandduchess of Schaffenzeits was a past master of manipulation and deceptive position. She had managed far longer than anyone thought possible the diplomatic dance with Napoleon Bonaparte, giving lip service to the self-styled French emperor without giving up the actual autonomy of her small duchy. When that had become no longer possible, she had gone into self-exile in St. Petersburg, with all her court in train, rather than bend the knee in allegiance to French rule.

When the earl had written to her grace in placation, fabricating the existence of an intended bride, he had not given proper thought to the grandduchess’s character, nor to her most probable reaction. She had come to England to call his bluff, and thus far she was succeeding on all counts. He had been unable to properly regain his balance, which had begun to annoy him, for he knew that such was the grand-duchess’s intention.

Lord Trilby knew that he had to wrest the upper hand to himself or he was as good as lost. Attrition, if nothing else, would gradually grind away at his defenses. The Grandduchess of Schaffenzeits was famous for her persistence and her obstinacy in gaining her own way. The grand old lady would not easily be persuaded to leave England without gaining her object, and that object was his own firm commitment to an acceptable lady.

Lord Trilby looked at Fräulein Gutenberg. She was gazing at him with an expression of polite interest. There was a void in her eyes, but he did not think that she was unintelligent. No, there was something waiting just behind those luminous brown eyes that he could not quite put a name to, but which he knew with certainty was not what he wished for himself.

“I am quite certain of my own mind. My intellect does not lead me far astray, not in this instance, at least,” Lord Trilby said slowly.

The Grandduchess Wilhelmina Hildebrande cackled. Her finger slipped around her wineglass. “Indeed, my lord! How odd it is that I can find no fault at all in the beef, whilst you have pushed away your unfinished portion. When one becomes as ancient as myself, one sees far more than one is given credit for.” She lifted the wineglass and touched it to her lips, tasting the wine with appreciation. As she set down the glass, she said quietly, “Though I eschew London, I have always the greatest curiosity about all that is encompassed by your life in that hideous city. Perhaps while I am in England I shall have the singular honor of meeting a few of your friends and . . . intimates, Miles.”

Lord Trilby met the implacability in the grandduchess’s eyes. She was of course referring to his nonexistent intended. It was a thousand times a pity that Lady Caroline had refused him. He deliberately brought a lazy half-smile to his lips. “As to that, I suppose it is a matter that can be arranged.” He saw the instant of startlement in her eyes before her expression smoothed to one of polite incredulity. He knew that she had expected him to parade excuses out for her inspection, but he had taken her by surprise with his agreeableness, which had also effectively cut the ground out from under her.

At all costs he must avoid entangling himself in any more lies and deceits. The Grandduchess of Schaffenzeits was too skilled at verbal dueling not to recognize his weakness, and certainly the fabrication of an engagement must qualify as his greatest weakness. Damn Caro’s eyes, he thought with a flash of frustration. Now he must dodge whilst on the run, and would very likely run his neck into the noose before he became aware of it.

Lord Trilby reached leisurely for his own wineglass and drank from it. “An excellent vintage, do you not agree, Fräulein?” It was the proper question of a host, but it was also a lowering of his defenses.

Fräulein Gutenberg smiled ever so faintly. Her lovely dark eyes shone. “Indeed, my lord.”

Though Lord Trilby gave every appearance of ease—his posture relaxed, his lips touched by a smile—within he was taut as a bowstring. Steadily, and without a sound escaping from between his teeth, he cursed.

 

 

Chapter Eleven

 

For several days a state of suspended hostilities existed between Lady Caroline and Mrs. Burlington. They avoided one another’s company as nearly as possible, Lady Caroline doing so by the simple expedient of closeting herself in the study or the library for lengthy periods of estate work or reading.

Soon after the heated clash between the ladies, the first vestiges of winter had made its appearance in the form of icy rain and sleet. The sullen weather discouraged either lady from visiting with their neighbors still in residence; nor could they look forward to the unfriendly atmosphere of Berwicke being alleviated overmuch by callers of their own.

Lady Caroline, made restive by the enforced inactivity and the tension between herself and her aunt, would have been particularly delighted to have received Lord Trilby. The earl had a trick of making her laugh, which she felt in sore need of these days. In addition, her curiosity had been engaged by his plight, and several times since his visit she had wondered what had happened. But there was no word from Lord Trilby and she could only surmise that his lordship’s situation was not as desperate as he had made it out to be.

As the dismal days dragged by, there was but one caller, and that was Lord Hathaway. Lady Caroline was not informed until much later of his lordship’s visit, since Lord Hathaway had, strangely enough, specifically requested to see only Mrs. Burlington. Simpson informed Lady Caroline that the two had been closeted together for a little better than three hours.

Lady Caroline had put up her brows in surprise. A speculative expression had entered her fine eyes. “Indeed! I wonder whatever it was all about?”

“That I could not tell you, my lady,” Simpson said regretfully.

Lady Caroline had shrugged and put it out of her head. It was of little consequence, after all. If Lord Hathaway chose to seek out her aunt, perhaps even to complain of how his overtures to herself had been received, it was certainly better to let the matter be brought to her attention. She was not so curious that she wanted to deliberately seek out Mrs. Burlington.

When Lady Caroline had almost despaired of ever seeing the sky again, it finally dawned a pale sun. The clear, albeit still gray, winter sky heralded more than the end of a week’s bad weather, however, as she was to learn.

Lady Caroline was embroidering in the drawing room, having first checked to see that Mrs. Burlington was not already in residence. Outside in the entry hall she heard a bluff voice raised in good-natured question, and even as she quickly looked up and set aside her embroidery, the door opened to reveal her brother’s familiar lanky figure.

Lady Caroline rose from the settee at once, her eyes lighting up with genuine affection. She went toward him with outstretched hands. “Ned! I
am
glad to see you home,” she exclaimed, her spirits lighter than they had been for days.

Lord Eddington laughed. He brushed past Lady Caroline’s hands to slip his arms about her trim waist and pulled her close for a quick brotherly buss on the cheek. “Dear Caroline! Have you preserved my inheritance for me in my absence?”

“Of course, and to the very letter of your instructions, I might add,” Lady Caroline said with a smile and mock salute.

Lord Eddington laughed again. “As though I don’t know that compared to my man of business in London and you, I would make a very poor steward indeed.” He spied his wife paused in the open doorway. “No need to stand on ceremony, my dearest. It is only Caroline, as you see.”

Lady Eddington advanced then into the drawing room. She was pulling off her gloves, and as she freed one hand, she offered it to Lady Caroline. “Dear Lady Caroline. How nice that you are here to greet his lordship and me.”

Lady Eddington was a fragile blond beauty whose oval face and small inches had endowed her with an ethereal appearance. Her limped blue eyes held an expression that bordered on the wary when they met Lady Caroline’s gaze, and her polite smile lacked genuine warmth.

“Wherever else would my sister be?” Lord Eddington asked rhetorically. He turned to the bell rope and gave it a vigorous tugging. “Where is Simpson? I requested tea to be sent in directly. I am famished for our good English tea and biscuits.”

Lady Caroline observed the slightest tightening of her new sister-in-law’s soft mouth at Lord Eddington’s offhand rejoinder, and instantly the ugly assertion that Mrs. Burlington had thrown at her head not many days past was recalled. Perhaps Lady Eddington had indeed expressed the desire that Lady Caroline be removed from Berwicke Keep.

Lady Caroline cautioned herself not to leap to spurious conclusions. More likely, she thought, Lady Eddington was simply insecure and intimidated by her new position, and when she had voiced such timidities to Mrs. Burlington, the lady had grossly exaggerated them. The new countess was, after all, very young and untried, having been brought up in a somewhat straitened household under the tutelage of a not particularly affectionate stepmother.

With these thoughts in mind, Lady Caroline set herself to make her sister-in-law at ease. “I am happy that you and my brother have returned, Lady Eddington. Please sit with me so that we may more comfortably converse.” She gestured invitingly toward the settee, and after the barest hesitation, Lady Eddington accepted with murmured thanks.

Lady Caroline seated herself and turned an interested expression to her companion. “Now, you must tell me all about your travels. I have never been out of England, though I have long wished to journey to the Mediterranean and especially to Athens, which I understand is very beautiful.”

“Yes, it is beautiful. But I think that I prefer London over any other city,” Lady Eddington said coolly.

“Too right!” Lord Eddington had joined the ladies by throwing himself into a wing chair opposite. He grimaced as he glanced across to meet his sister’s amused glance. “No, Caroline, you have no notion. It was a jolly trip and all that, of course. But it is good to be home after all that traipsing about foreign parts. And all that incessant foreign gabbling too. I was never in my life gladder of anything than to hear plain honest English speech.”

“Indeed, my lord, I never understood more than one word in ten. I was ever so happy to leave it all in your competent hands,” Lady Eddington said, bestowing a warm smile on her husband.

Lord Eddington’s flat chest expanded. “Aye, I was able to make myself fairly well understood in Cairo, was I not? I was made to study French as a lad, of course. Though I hated it at the time, I must confess that I was damned glad of it on more than one occasion. Once we got to Athens, though, the going was a bit rougher.”

“How can you say so, my lord? Why, I do not recall that you ever had the least difficulty,” Lady Eddington said. She turned to Lady Caroline, her face at last showing some animation. “You will scarcely credit it, Lady Caroline, but his lordship spoke with magnificent fluency whatever outrageous language we chanced to encounter. I was never more astonished in my life. His lordship had not told me before that he was a linguist.”

“I am impressed indeed. I had no notion of this hidden talent of yours, Ned,” Lady Caroline said.

Lord Eddington had gone red with pleasure at his wife’s extravagant praise. Now his flush deepened at the teasing note in his sister’s voice. “No, nor had I. But do you know, all those tedious hours when old Tarrybone positively drilled the Latin into my head must have taken root, for I was able to catch on pretty quickly to the natives. Believe me, it made matters much smoother than they might have been in several instances. Caroline, you would not believe the roads. No, nor the lack of proper service that one is obliged to accept. It was nothing like one might expect whilst traveling in England.”

“But that was only between the largest of cities, my lord. Surely you have not already forgotten the gracious reception with which we were greeted and the pleasures provided for our entertainment when we disembarked in the capitals,” Lady Eddington said.

“By Jove, you’re right! Now that I come to think on it, we could not have asked for a better time than what those foreigners provided us once we had visited our British embassies and made ourselves known,” Lord Eddington said.

“I particularly liked Athens. I do not think that I have ever laughed and danced so much in my life as during the week that we remained there,” Lady Eddington said. “I should like to go back sometime.”

“Then we shall!” Lord Eddington declared. He smiled at his lady. “You may have anything that your pretty heart desires of me, as you know.”

Lady Eddington appeared properly pleased by this generous declaration, but Lady Caroline did not feel so sanguine. She glanced from one to the other of her companions, both of whom seemed to have forgotten where they were. She could not but feel somewhat left out in the cold when her beloved brother and her new sister-in-law gazed at one another so bemusedly and to the exclusion of all else. Once more the specter of Mrs. Burlington’s allegation that Lady Eddington would be more than happy to see her take leave of Berwicke Keep surfaced.

She became angered at herself for succumbing to Mrs. Burlington’s planting of doubt, but still she could not help feeling a measure of uncertainty.

Lady Caroline told herself not to be a nodcock. Even if it were true, she hoped that she would have sense enough to make a graceful departure without invoking Lady Eddington’s ill will, for that would naturally affect the relationship between herself and her brother.

 If it appeared that her presence did indeed prove to be a damper to the private cooings of the newly wedded pair, she would make the decision herself before anyone else could request it of her. That would be a trick, indeed, if she knew anything at all about her aunt’s character and that particular lady’s propensity to throw up a topic to discussion until one was heartily sick of the entire matter.

Lady Caroline was still chiding herself for the ungenerous thought when the door to the drawing room opened and Mrs. Burlington swept in. She was followed by Simpson and two of the footmen. The three menservants carried trays piled high with all the necessaries of a substantial tea.

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