In the Brief Eternal Silence (12 page)

“Pardon me, milord, but if t'miss there can
drive 'em, then I'm coiton I can hold 'em,” the groom said with a
grin.

St. James scowled, murmured under his breath,
“My team's celebrity will never live this down, if word should get
out.” He handed the reins to the boy, jumped down from the curricle
in sharp contrast to his prior obliviousness of just moments
before. Then he turned, reached up a hand to Miss Murdock, who
placed her gloved one into it, and allowed him to assist her
down.

St. James gave her a critical scan then
turned to Lord and Mister Tempton. “Allow me to properly introduce
Miss Sara Elizabeth Murdock, whom you met yesterday under even less
seemly circumstances.”

“Ah, yes,” Bertie replied, taking her hand.
“And you look much more. . . clean today, my dear. I am Lord
Bertram Tempton, Earl of Edison.”

Miss Murdock flushed slightly. “Pleased to
make your acquaintance again, milord.”

“And, of course, my younger brother, Mister
Ryan Tempton.”

“Mister Tempton,” Miss Murdock
acknowledged.

“Miss Murdock. I hope that we do not find you
in any difficulty today,” Ryan said.

His words were more intense than a casual
greeting and Lizzie was a little taken aback at his concern. “I am
well, thank you,” she stammered and could not help glancing at the
duke who was frowning.

“As I can see we are delaying you from your
hunt, we shall bid you goodbye for now, as I have promised Miss
Murdock breakfast here at the inn,” St. James interrupted.

“Ah, yes,” Bertie returned. “We were, I
confess, delaying our leaving on the chance that you may turn up
here, as there could be no other logical way for you to go but past
the inn. But, as I see you have all well in hand, we will be going
now. Good day, Miss Murdock. Good luck, St. James.”

“Thank you, Bertie. I appreciate the
sentiment.”

Lord Tempton turned to his brother. “Ryan?
Are we ready?”

“I—just a moment.” He turned to Lizzie. “Miss
Murdock, I am not being presumptuous, I hope, but if you would care
for a chaperone, I would be happy to remain with you and his
lordship until his groom is able to arrive back.”

Miss Murdock flushed at his words. “I,
indeed! Thank you for the offer, Mister Tempton, but I really
cannot see any harm if you go ahead with your hunt and not
interrupt your pleasure on my account.”

“It is just,” and Ryan glanced at the duke,
who remained silent, before continuing, “I would understand if you
were apprehensive of perhaps the wrong connotation being construed
upon being in his lordship's company alone, and would wish to avoid
any unpleasantness. . .”

Feeling more equal to the task, Miss Murdock
replied in a much surer voice, “Oh, I can not think that we would
run into any one here that would matter, that is, assuming of
course, that we can trust your and Lord Tempton's discretion to not
go about blabbing some ludicrous tale of his lordship and I having
a carte blanche or some other such unlikely silliness! For I can
tell you that nothing could be further from the truth, as any one
with two eyes in their head looking at me could see for themselves.
I am confident that Tyler will return in good time and that we will
be, if not entirely appropriate, at least passably respectable from
that point, and that neither I nor my reputation will come to any
irreparable harm.”

At the end of her speech, Ryan gave a grave
nod, said, “If you are certain. Of course, you can trust my and
Lord Tempton's discretion, but I must add, Miss Murdock, that I
really can't see it, what you were saying about anyone looking at
you being able to see out of hand that such a tale would be
ridiculous.” He looked more awkward than usual, and his ears
reddened until they nearly matched the redness of his hair, but he
turned with dignity then to the duke and added, “Milord St. James,
I trust that you will behave appropriately in this situation?”

To which St. James replied with matching
seriousness, “You can have my hand upon it if you wish, young
Ryan.” Ryan murmured that of course the duke's word was more than
adequate for him.

With that off his chest, Ryan mounted his
horse, waited while a groom assisted his brother in mounting his.
Then with a last penetrating stare at Miss Murdock from his young,
earnest eyes, he tipped his hat to her and said, “Miss Murdock,
milord Duke.” Bertie echoed his sentiments, and then they were off,
trotting from the yard and into the chill of the morning.

Miss Murdock turned to find St. James' eyes
assessing her, which made her color heighten.

“Well, Miss Murdock, as you can see, I am
honor bound to behave myself, for I do not wish to have young Ryan
calling me out in a duel if I were to perhaps sully you in any
way.”

“And I am sure, milord, that it was no
hardship for you to promise such, so please do not make yourself
sound in any way self-sacrificing.”

He did not say anything for a long moment,
but the gold of his eyes flared up, and he said, “Ah, it must be a
comfort for you to believe that, Miss Murdock, so I shall not
disabuse you of that idea. Not now at any rate.” He took her arm,
made to escort her in to the inn, then hesitated. Instead, he
added, and his words were husky as he spoke softly into her ear,
“Do not forget that just a few hours past, I saw you when your hair
was down and your eyes had the soft glow of the lamps' reflections
in them, and you moved with surety and grace in your worn night
gown and robe. And if there was nothing in your actions that was
overtly seductive, there was still enough in your appearance to
cause any man to have thoughts that are common at that time of the
night.” His hand tightened on her arm, and his breath brushed off
her bonnet and found a crevice between her cloak and neck. “Enough
said, Miss Murdock?”

And she nodded, mute, feeling her heart pound
uncomfortably. In an abrupt tone, he added, “Come, for I am tired.
And I do not wish to frighten you when I am not totally in control
of what I say. If you are very hungry, you may dine privately, or
if you wish to wait, I can join you for a meal in a little above an
hour. It is up to you, Miss Murdock.”

He moved with her to the door of the inn, and
Miss Murdock fell into stride beside him, his hand still at her
arm, and they entered the darkness of the inn's interior. “I shall
wait with no hardship,” was all she could think to say and he
nodded. He spoke with the innkeeper, advising him that he should
like to retain his rooms from the night before for another few
hours, and also a private salon for Miss Murdock, with tea, and any
buns or other light snacks that she may wish.

The innkeeper appeared happy to fulfill his
lordship's wishes and St. James accompanied her to her salon door,
apologized for the inconvenience to her of being left to her own
devices, and then seeing her settled, excused himself to go to his
room of before next door. “If any one disturbs you, Miss Murdock,
you need only summon me. So please do not be afraid.”

Miss Murdock, who was not in the least
afraid, for she could not likely credit anyone bursting into her
salon and offering to do her harm when she was but five miles from
her own home and had spent a good deal of time alone there without
incident, merely said, “Of course, milord.” Then he was gone. A
chambermaid brought her in an assortment of buns, cakes, breads,
biscuits, a steaming cup of tea, and a London newspaper on the
side, a day old, but what matter, as it was all new to Miss
Murdock, and she settled in to a comfortable respite from the duke
and his disturbing presence and, she admitted to herself, his even
more disturbing words.

It was little more than an hour later when he
returned. He was shaved, his dark locks tied back in a brief
ponytail and he had on fresh clothing from his bag, which had
evidently remained at the inn. Miss Murdock wished she looked half
as fresh, for she had, to her chagrin, ended dozing on the settee,
finding herself tired after being up at half past two that morning,
and now she felt a good deal crumpled. She was in the act of
repinning her hair into its severe bun at the nape of her neck when
he knocked and then entered. With his appearance, she found her
fingers clumsy, and when she wished to be done with the task with
the most possible speed, she instead was fumbling beneath his gold
eyes.

He closed the door behind him, strode over to
where she sat, still dealing with her rebellious hair, and he told
her, “Turn slightly, Miss Murdock, and I will endeavor to help you.
For frankly, you are making a mess of it. If we walk out of here
with you looking like that, there will be no end to the ruination
of your reputation.”

“Oh, bother!” she said and allowed him to
help.

“Have you a brush?” She had taken a small one
from her reticule when beginning her own efforts, and now she
handed it to him, feeling foolish.

He took the brush and showed a good deal of
finesse in brushing out the long strands of her hair and then
twisted them tight, wrapped them around and pinned them into place.
She did not ask where he had attained his skill, guessing sourly
that it was not the first time that it had been imperative that a
young miss walk from a room appearing unmussed in his presence.

There was a knock on the door, and he called
enter and rose from where he had placed one knee on the settee as
he had assisted her. The door opened and two men brought in a small
table, set with two places, and a chambermaid followed with a tray
holding several covered platters of food. The men put down the
table, drew up two chairs to it from one side of the room, and the
chambermaid placed the platters on the center of it. She asked
milord if there would be anything else to which he replied that all
looked well, and the three left without any further comment.

St. James pulled out a chair for Miss
Murdock, settled her at the table and then took his own place.

Miss Murdock, who had eaten rather more of
the buns and cakes than she had first expected, ate little, and St.
James ate hardly more, causing her to wonder that he survived
adequately, for she was far more used to her father's incessant
appetite.

In short order they were finished, and
lingered only over their cups of tea, which she had been surprised
to see him settle for, as there was an ample supply of brandy,
whiskey, claret, sherry, and assorted schnapps on a sideboard in
the room.

“Now, Miss Murdock, we will have that
promised conversation if you wish.”

“Yes. I am glad to see you have not
forgotten.”

He raised a brow, took a sip from his cup,
set it down and waited for her to go on.

Miss Murdock gathered her thoughts, wanting
to approach the subject with firm diplomacy. “Milord,” she began.
“As it is apparent that you entered this foolhardy agreement with
the aim of acquiring my horse, perhaps that is where we should
begin.” She waited for his comment but there was none, so she
continued. “I admit it would cost me personally a good deal, for I
prize Leaf highly, but I have come to the conclusion that the only
way for me to be out of this predicament is to give her to
you.”

He gave a thin smile. “That desperate, Miss
Murdock?”

“No, milord. Merely that filled with
misgivings. As surely you must be by now.”

“I have been filled with misgivings from the
start, Miss Murdock.”

“Well! I am only surprised because you have
not shown it. But now, with your admission, I am hopeful that you
will take what I am offering you and leave this situation feeling
completely satisfied, that in the end, you have attained your
objective after all, and with a good deal less pain than what could
have been otherwise.”

“But I have not obtained my entire objective,
Miss Murdock,” he countered.

“Be that as it may, any further objective you
may have, can not be, I regret but truthfully say, any concern of
mine.”

“But it does concern you, Miss Murdock. For
my further objective is to marry you.”

No, milord!” she returned, more heat in her
voice than she thought was advisable, but unable to help herself.
“If you are truly bent on marrying, your objective clearly can not
be dependent upon my being your wife. I have come to the conclusion
from what little I have been able to gather of your unfathomable
motives, that you merely think you require a wife, not a particular
wife. If I am correct and that is the case being, may I suggest,
humbly but sincerely suggest, that you find another wife. Someone
perhaps that is actively seeking a husband, and not myself, who is
not actively seeking a husband.”

His eyes narrowed, not from anger or even
irritation she suspected, but more from his thoughts. “Let us leave
my motives for seeking a wife be for a moment, Miss Murdock. Let us
rather discuss why it is you are not seeking a husband. Can you
elaborate on that please?”

“I hardly see that it could make any
difference to you, milord.”

“You are curious of my motives, are you
not?”

And as much as Miss Murdock wished to say she
wasn't, she couldn't in truth reply in that manner, so she did
admit, “I have wondered, yes, what would impel a duke, moneyed and
privileged and, despite being of a certain disreputable renown, and
rather disagreeable, I might add, but still extremely favored as a
husband by most any female, to feel that he must obtain a wife in a
highly unorthodox manner.”

“So you are allowed to be curious of my
motives, but I am not allowed to be curious of your own?”

“Mayhaps I am curious, but I do not see you
satisfying my curiosity, milord.”

“Satisfy mine, Miss Murdock,” and he gave a
delicate pause, a wicked little grin turning up the corners of his
mouth, “and I shall satisfy yours.”

Miss Murdock bowed her head, sipping from her
tea cup in a shaking hand effort to hide her fluster. How could he
know that she could be, in fact, curious about that, when she
herself had not acknowledged it to herself? Or had he in his great
egotism merely assumed that every woman he encountered under the
age of eighty must have that thought flit through her mind at some
point in his presence? And had probably had enough cloying
attention to prove him right?