In the Brief Eternal Silence (10 page)

“Through it all, I've neither complained nor
upbraided, but now you have gone too far! I swear, I could choke
you where you sit,” she finished.

“Yes, yes, Lizzie. You are a saint and I am
the first to say it,” her father returned. “But, now, go on. At the
very least you shall not have to put up with me and my weaknesses,
and even the dreaded Duke of St. James could be no worse, I
wager.”

Miss Murdock, at her wit's end, placed a hand
on her forehead, winced when she realized that it was the burnt
one, which she had quite forgotten in all of her agitation. “Oh,
damn this bloody hand,” she murmured, jerking it back down again.
She turned on St. James. “Of which I have you to thank for, so you
could look a little contrite instead of standing there
smirking!”

St. James was, indeed, looking quite diverted
as he witnessed the exchange between father and daughter, but at
her words, he sobered enough to say, “Most certainly, I am
contrite, Miss Murdock. I would be much too frightened not to be in
your presence.” Of which he received a glare that was clearly meant
to leave him dead.

St. James asked, “Have you any further
doubts, Miss Murdock?”

Miss Murdock turned again to the Squire.
“Father? I'm asking you once more. Can this be what you truly
want?”

“Aye, lass. T'is for the best. Every woman
should be married and have children to keep her occupied, instead
of dreaming of training race horses and spending time caring for a
rather unfit father.”

She kneeled in front of him, her anger gone
and only worry in her voice. “But, father, whoever shall look after
you?”

He chuckled, patted her head. “Oh, I shall be
fine on my own, missy. I shall do what I have been longing to do
but which I haven't been able to because of care for you. I shall
drink myself silly and ride to hounds 'til I break my neck like all
old widower's do. You need not worry about me.”

“Oh, father,” she moaned, “I love you dearly,
even if you are an old fool.”

He gave her head a final pat. “Now get on
with you, lass. Leave an old man to peace and quiet. You were
always much too active and it has tired me to watch you work so
hard for the last seven years.”

She was reluctant to leave him, and when she
looked about, her eyes were tinged with tears and frantic. She was
being sent away, her father obviously convinced that it was for the
best. And although she could fight the duke to the end, she would
not fight her father.

Then St. James was there, pulling her gently
to her feet. He handed her a handkerchief from his coat pocket, and
she stood staring at it dumbly for a moment.

He took it and wiped her eyes and it was only
then that she realized she was crying. “Go now, Miss Murdock, and
pack a valise. You shan't need much, for if your dress is any
indication, you will need new in any event. Gather a warm cloak. I
will be waiting for you in the hall.”

Miss Murdock, clutching the handkerchief he
had returned to her hand, went to do as he bid, her mind numb so
that she wondered if he had not told her what to do if she could
have realized it herself. He followed her to the foot of the
stairs, told her before she ascended, “It is for the best, Miss
Murdock, I assure you.”

She turned to look at him, the gold eyes, the
lithe figure, the impossible perfection of his face. “I cannot see
how it could be for the best, milord, either for you or for me,”
and she went up the stairs.

When she again reached her room, she dug a
battered valise from her closet, unclasped it and opened its mouth
wide. But something about its yawning emptiness, which she had been
assigned to fill, defeated her, and she sat down on her bed beside
the empty traveling case.

She wasn't certain how long she sat there
motionless, only her mind racing, but it was enough time to pass
for the duke to evidently become impatient, for there was a light
tapping on her door. Miss Murdock had not closed it, and now as she
glanced up, not startled, more just dismayed, she saw St. James
hesitating in the opening. “Miss Murdock? Is there anything I can
assist you with?”

She took a moment to answer, and when she
did, she spoke with a calmness that she in no way felt. “No. I'm
sorry, but I just needed a moment to sit and think and allow myself
to catch up with everything that is going on.” She gave him a
baleful look. “Do you always move so quickly, milord, and expect
others to merely follow your lead without question or delay?”

He rubbed his upper lip with his gloved
finger, a habit, she was beginning to notice, that he did whenever
he did not have his usual immediate and flip response handy. “I
expect that, yes, I normally do.” He added a little more sharply,
“I am not your father, Miss Murdock. I do not need looking after or
a firm guiding hand.”

“So why take me from him when you can see
that I am clearly needed here?”

He clasped his hands behind his back, still
speaking from the doorframe. “There are many good reasons that I
could list why it is better for you to go with me, Miss Murdock,
than remain here. But as I in all honesty did not care two pins if
this circumstance benefited you at the time I offered for your
hand, I will not now attempt to make you believe that I had your
best interests at heart from the beginning.”

Miss Murdock rose from where she had been
sitting, opened her wardrobe. “I appreciate your candor, milord
Duke,” she said. “I hope that if nothing else, this indicates that
I can expect honesty from you, however unpleasant it may be.” She
took down one of her four remaining dresses, inspected it, folded
it and placed it in the traveling bag.

St. James moved through the doorway then, a
restriction of propriety that he crossed with no evident regard to
it. He walked over to her and Miss Murdock paused in her packing.
“I did not expect this to be pleasant, Miss Murdock,” he told her.
“And although many other crimes have been laid at my door, real and
imagined, no one has ever dared call me a liar. That, Miss Murdock,
is because I will tell you the truth. If you find it unpleasant, I
do not apologize.”

She raised her brown eyes to his. Her words
were soft but dripped with distaste. “And the truth is you wanted
my horse and as there was no other way to attain it as it is my
dowry, you offered for me.”

He gave a small sigh before saying, “In part,
that is true. Do not ask for the rest of it, Miss Murdock, for it
will only interrupt your peace of mind.”

She let out a little, bitter laugh at the end
of his words. “I'm afraid my peace of mind has been well
interrupted already.”

“I imagine that is so, which I do regret,
Miss Murdock. But I would wager that in a very short time after our
wedding you will be counting yourself a lucky lass indeed.”

“You have a very high opinion of yourself,
sir,” she was stung into retorting.

“Not at all, Miss Murdock. I simply believe
there is a very good possibility that you shall become a widow at
an extremely young age.” He paused letting his words sink in, then
continued, “So you see, if you can merely bear my presence for a
short while, you shall in the end be a duchess and very rich, and
free to choose another. If nothing else, I can guarantee that you
will have no end of suitors then, plain little mouse or no.”

He did not wait for her to respond, but
turned on his booted heel and went to the door. Miss Murdock, whose
hand had been reaching for her toiletry items on her vanity and had
stilled at his pronouncement, listened to his retreating steps. She
was not surprised when they paused at the door, and he told her
over his shoulder in a self-mocking voice. “So be a sport, Miss
Murdock. I can not guarantee that I shall die, and you will forgive
me if I try mightily not to, but if I were laying odds, I would
have to put them against me. Now doesn't that make the prospect of
marrying me much more pleasant?”

Lizzie listened to his footsteps as he moved
again, echoing down the hallway and fading. “No. It doesn’t.” She
shoved her hair brush, comb and mirror into the bag.

“Well, milord,” Tyler asked when his employer
came once again down the flagstone steps alone. “Is she
coming?”

St. James came up beside him. He took the
filly's lead from his groom and led it to the back of the curricle.
“Damned if I know! I'll give her exactly ten minutes before I go up
and throw her over my shoulder and carry her down!”

Tyler could not resist a wide grin which he
did not even attempt to hide. “Aye, milord, she's got you a tad
riled, I see!”

At which the duke gave him a sharp glance
from his gold eyes. He tied Miss Murdock's horse to the rear of the
curricle once again, ran a gloved hand through his disarrayed hair,
and said, “It is only that I am devilishly tired, and hung-over on
top of it. I can at least say that she spared me the hysterics and
did not faint. Of which I should be forever grateful. But she has a
damned shrewish tongue and is not hesitant to use it in the least.
Now, Tyler, if you will wipe that grin from your face and remain
here for another few moments, I'll return shortly. If Miss Murdock
arrives out before I do, please endeavor to make her comfortable,
and tie her to the seat if she seems inclined to be difficult.”

“Aye, milord,” Tyler answered, and although
he was happy to follow the duke's instruction of remaining, he
could not obey in removing his smile.

“Bugger you, Tyler! I should knock that grin
from you if I were not feeling so damnedably out of sorts.” But
even as St. James turned to make his way up, once more, to the
entrance of the house, a smile flashed across his face, lightening
his features for that brief instance, and then all the groom saw
was his back.

Tyler had a few minutes to consider all the
strange goings-on of that morning before the door opened again, and
a diminutive Miss in a very plain brown cloak came down the steps
toward him. Her bonnet was the same lamentable brown, and as she
drew closer, he saw that her face was a good deal brown, and her
eyes, although finely shaped and rather solemnly large, were brown
also, of no particularly remarkable shade, so that one could not
say that they were chocolate brown or cider brown or nutmeg brown,
but where one could only say: they were brown. And her brows above
them were brown, indicating that the hair done up beneath her
bonnet was also brown.

And although Tyler recognized her from when
they arrived, and then her brief rescuing of her horse, he had to
admit that any attractiveness he remembered about her must have
been washed out by the morning's sun, for when she set down her
valise and extended her hand to make a formal acknowledgment of his
presence, rather unusual as he was only a groom, he answered by
saying, “Pleased to meet you again, Miss Brown, ahem, I mean
Murdock.”

“And I am pleased to renew your acquaintance,
Mr. Tobacco, oh dear me, I do mean, Tyler!” she returned.

Tyler made a startled little noise in his
throat, and then seeing her eyes twinkling, began to laugh, of
which she joined him. “You're having me on a bit, are you,
miss?”

“Oh, do forgive me, but I was,” she said.
“But I have often thought it would be so much easier to remember
names if we could only call people by their most distinguishing
feature. Take Mr. Ryan Tempton that I met yesterday. Would it not
be so much easier if his name were Mr. Red?”

“Aye, Miss! I wouldn't argue with you,” Tyler
agreed. “And his brother, Lord Tempton, I should think t'would be
easier if his name were Lord Peacock.”

Of which Miss Murdock gave a helpless laugh,
knowing it was most unseemly, but finding it most gratifying to be
entertained by the likable groom rather than think another moment
about the predicament she was in. “And my father, he should be
Squire Indulges, for he over-indulges on everything.”

“And the Duke, miss, he should be called
Lord—”

“Habitual Ill-Humor.”

And they were both laughing, much to his
lordship's puzzlement when he came up beside them, and instead of
acknowledging his presence, the two of them set off into fresh
gales of mirth, Miss Murdock putting a hand on Tyler's arm to
steady herself.

“Tyler, if you can leave off whatever
entertainment yourself and Miss Murdock have managed to manufacture
in my brief absence, you may fetch a saddle from the stables and
tack up Miss Murdock's filly.”

Miss Murdock released Tyler's arm, said to
neither of them in particular, “Good God, but he can wipe the smile
off anyone's face with a single sentence! What is this, milord? I
thought the filly would be traveling with us to London?”

“London? No, Miss Murdock, we are not
traveling to London as of yet.” He turned from her as though he did
not care to spend the time nor the energy with debating over yet
another point. Miss Murdock stood a little huffily behind him,
feeling helpless to stop whatever plans he was putting into action
now. Really! The man was exhausting her, and she had only known him
but a scarce few hours.

“Tyler, I have two letters here,” St. James
was saying and Miss Murdock could see that while she and the groom
had been busy giggling he must have been busy penning them, for
they were in his hand, sealed and addressed, and he was going over
them with Tyler as he spoke. “This one is to my grandmother,
deliver it first. Then, you will go to my solicitor to deliver the
second. Then you will hire a conveyance, a carriage, not too
flashy, and hire a team also, again not too flashy, and you will
meet us in Gretna Greene as early as is possible. Do you have all
that?”

Tyler tugged his cap. “Aye, milord. And if
your grandmother asks where you are?”

“Tell her I am about procuring a horse.
Nothing more.” His lordship handed him the letters, unbuttoned his
greatcoat and reached beneath it into an inner pocket. “And here,
this will finance the journey and all your needs,” he said, and
handed a purse over to his groom.