In the Brief Eternal Silence (20 page)

But for tonight, St. James was moving slow
indeed, for when Effington returned with his fresh cup of tea, his
lordship still was sprawled upon the chaise lounge, his boots not
even removed and Effington, seeing his chance and seizing it with
as much glee that St. James normally took in denying him his duty,
quickly set down his cup and bent to the task of removing the tall
black boots from his employer's feet.

St. James opened one eye. “You've caught me,
Effington, damn it.”

“Yes, milord. For once I shall feel that I am
earning a little of the salary you pay me.”

St. James thought about this for a moment,
then closed his eye again, leaving his valet to his rightful tasks.
“I should take comfort in the fact that you are merely readying me
for bed. It will be a terrible day when you get your hands on me to
fit me for going out.”

“I, on the other hand, milord, am very much
looking forward to that day. And I must warn you that the longer
you delay, the more elaborate I shall have to dress you, so that I
may recoup my reputation all at once, for I may never have another
chance.”

“If you rig me out to that deplorable degree,
you may be sure it will be your only chance,” St. James confirmed.
But he did have to admit to himself that the simple task of
readying for sleep would have been beyond him this night. He
wondered how Miss Murdock was getting along, for if she were half
as tired as he, she had his sympathies. Not to mention that his
grandmother had probably taken advantage of the situation and
grilled the poor girl while she was at her most defenseless.

Which thought made him grin, for Miss Murdock
even at her most defenseless was a force to be reckoned with, he
concluded. For some unaccountable reason, that trait in her pleased
him very much. He could settle with having a less than beautiful
wife, and as it was necessary to merely have a wife as conveniently
as possible, he could not afford to be choosy, but it would have
galled him to be married to a namby-pamby, and if nothing else,
that could not be laid at Miss Murdock's door.

All in all, he was convinced that she would
do better than he had dared hope, for if this did not all come out
right, she would need some fortitude to deal with what was left.
She would manage it, he wagered. Had in reality, already wagered
quite a bit on it.

If he could only get her down the marriage
aisle, then all would be set, mayhaps not as neatly as he had
planned, but that could not be helped. It had not occurred to him
that a Squire's daughter would find his suit objectionable.

“Up, milord,” Effington interrupted his
musings, after tugging off his shirt and maneuvering him to remove
his breeches also, “and I will put this over your head and help you
into bed.”

St. James opened his eyes again, his thoughts
evaporating as he saw a long bed gown in his valet's hands. “Oh,
no, Effington!” he said. “Lamentable enough that I need your
services tonight when I am not even drunk, but you will not prevail
upon me to put that on. I can not imagine where you even found it,
for it was not in my wardrobe, I am certain.”

“Indeed, it was, sir,” Effington answered,
“for I took the liberty of buying you several when I first started
as I was quite frankly appalled to find that you normally slept
nearly without any clothing at all.”

“And so I shall sleep again tonight.”

“It is not seemly, milord,” Effington argued,
“for a man of your station to sleep like the veriest common of the
common.”

“Bah!” St. James returned. “And who is to
know it, other than you? And if I offend your sensibilities, I can
not find it in myself to care over much. Good night, Effington. I
can make my own way into bed. Pour me a glass of brandy on your way
out.”

Effington, feeling a good deal of disapproval
at the duke's lack of cooperation in the area of his night attire,
drew himself upright in indignation at this last request. He
returned the rejected garment to its wardrobe and then went with
meekness to the sideboard, where he did pour a brandy. Then he
turned to his employer. “There you go, milord, poured as
requested,” and leaving the glass on the sideboard left without
further comment from the rooms.

He heard St. James' outburst of laughter
behind him as he closed the door, knew not whether to go to his
rooms and write up his resignation papers, a task he contemplated
on a daily basis, or to try again to adjust to the many
eccentricities of his employer, a goal that had so far eluded him.
He was well-paid, he reminded himself, but the thought of putting
up with such indignities for many years to come nearly was enough
to make him weep. “If I were only allowed to dress him
appropriately just once,” he consoled himself as he made his way up
to his room on the third floor, “then I would be satisfied. But if
the chance does not come soon, I will have no other choice but to
find a position in another household where my considerable talents
at hiding the negative and playing up the positive can be used and
appreciated.”

With that half-formed decision made in his
mind, he turned into his own rooms, realized he had forgotten his
tea cup in milord's chamber, and did not doubt that the duke had
somehow orchestrated that little lapse in his memory also, as
merely another way to bedevil him.

His lordship, unaware of his valet's ire, had
forgone the poured brandy as too much work in retrieving it from
the sideboard, and had closed his eyes as he remained on the chaise
lounge in nothing but the most intimate of his under apparel. His
naked chest gleamed in the moonlight that shone through his window,
and his dark hair fell into his face and he slept.

Effington, upon finding him in this
disgraceful manner the following morning, marked it down as yet
another grievance to be aired for when he would finally have had
enough and did compose his letter of resignation.

Miss Murdock, on the other hand, woke up
quite refreshed when a young lady who let it be known that her name
was Jeannie and that she would be Miss's lady's maid, brought in
Miss Murdock a steaming cup of chocolate, fluffed and propped up
her pillows so that she could enjoy her cup in bed, and then
whipped back the curtains across the windows in Miss Murdock's room
allowing in a glorious morning sun.

Miss Murdock blinked in bewilderment at all
of this activity, had to, for a moment, remind herself of where she
was and all the events that had brought her here, and allowed
herself to sit back in this newfound luxury and enjoy the first day
in many years that she had not had to spring out of bed, bathe in
the cold water of her bedroom basin, quickly dress and go below
stairs of her home to stoke up the kitchen fire and begin procuring
breakfast for her father and herself, and like as not, Kennedy the
groom also.

“I am to inform you that the Dowager Duchess
plans to take you shopping immediately after breakfast, Miss,”
Jeannie told her. She had deep red hair and interesting green eyes
and an aura of maturity about her, although Lizzie could not
believe she was more than a year or two older than herself. “So I
shall set out your dress and your shoes,” Jeannie continued as she
opened the wardrobe, “and then when you are—Oh, my,” she ended on a
disapproving note. “Whatever has happened to all your luggage?”

Miss Murdock choked a little on her hot
chocolate, said, “Oh, why, I hadn't the time to pack it and bring
it with me, you see.” Which saying made her feel a little better,
for she was not outright lying.

“I see,” said Jeannie. She pulled the single
change of dress, that the very nice Soren, the Duchess' own lady's
maid, had hung up the night before, out of the wardrobe. “Oh,
dear,” she said.

Miss Murdock sighed, said with total
frankness, “The others I left behind were worse, I assure you.”

“Well,” Jeannie said, “I can see why the
Duchess wishes to take you shopping post-haste then, for I must
tell you to go shopping so early in the morning is quite
remarkable.”

“And quite pointless,” Miss Murdock added.
“For I do not at all wish to have a new wardrobe as I do not intend
to be here above a day or two and do not see myself having any
callers or going to any events that would necessitate the expense.
But I shall have to take that up with the Dowager, of course.”

Jeannie looked taken aback by this confiding,
but she did give the dress a good brushing and made no further
comments on it, much to Miss Murdock's relief. She finished her
chocolate, allowed Jeannie to help her dress, an uncomfortable
feeling, as she had never thought herself so helpless as to be
unable to dress herself before, and presently found herself ready
to go below stairs and join her hostess for breakfast.

Ashton showed Miss Murdock into the morning
room. Lady Lenora was already there, and Lizzie was introduced to
her daughter-in-law, Lydia.

“Very pleased to meet you, ma'am,” Miss
Murdock responded.

Lydia set down her fork and gave deliberate
appraisal to the new arrival. Looking less than approving, she
said, “And very surprised to meet you, Miss Murdock. I could scarce
credit it when my mother-inlaw informed me that St. James had
foisted your presence upon her in the middle of last night.”

Miss Murdock blushed but was saved of a
response by the Duchess saying, “Enough, Lydia. I will not tolerate
such a poor welcome from you to Miss Murdock. It is hardly her
fault if St. James has seen fit to have her dragged about the
countryside in the night.”

Lydia sniffed, retrieved her fork, took a
dainty bite from the plate in front of her. “Of course, she is
welcome, as it is your home and you may welcome whom you may.”

“Thank you so much for recalling that,” the
Duchess returned. Her tone was a good deal warmer when she turned
to Miss Murdock and bade her to be seated. “I trust you slept well
last night, Miss Murdock?”

Lizzie smiled at her benefactress. “Indeed, I
did, ma'am. Thank you.”

“Good,” the Duchess continued, “for I have
quite a busy day planned for us, as your lady's maid should have
informed you.”

“Oh, she did, ma'am, but I was hoping to
discuss this with you before leaving. I really do not think it
would be wise under the circumstances. . . .”

“Poppycock!” the Duchess replied. “We shall
go shopping if for no other reason then that I will enjoy it and
you should indulge me. So let me hear no more of what is wise and
unwise.”

“Of course, ma'am. I did not mean that I
would not enjoy the outing with you. I just have some concern. .
.”

“Well, concern yourself no longer, dear. It
will amuse me to spend a day outfitting you as you should be and I
will not take no for an answer so you may as well enjoy your
breakfast and place yourself in my hands to get the job done as it
should be.”

“Yes, ma'am,” Miss Murdock replied, her
misgivings not at all lulled but seeing from the old lady's face
that she would make no headway and that if she persisted she would
be forced to reveal more of the circumstances of her being there to
Lydia, whom she had understandably taken a dislike to.

Lydia said now in a helpful voice, “Really,
Lady Lenora, I should be happy to escort Miss Murdock around to the
shops and make the proper purchases. You should not allow yourself
to be put out at your age.”

“I shall not be in the least put out,” the
Duchess replied. “But am looking forward to it, as I have said. And
I do not mean to insult you, Lydia, but my taste has never matched
yours and I would much prefer to do this myself.”

“Of course,” Lydia replied with exaggerated
sweetness. “I admit that you would have more experience in choosing
clothing for someone of such short stature. And I must admit that I
would not know what to do with her coloring,” she stared at Miss
Murdock, “which I do not mean to offend but she is so dark. And
that hair, it is so extremely brown, and her eyes are so perfectly
bland. I'm sorry, Miss Murdock,” she confided. “It is just so
uncommon for St. James to be moved into doing anything out of
kindness. . .” She shook her head in despair. “I had rather hoped
when I heard the news that you were to come and visit us that St.
James had at last formed a serious attachment. . .” and she
sighed.

Miss Murdock, not knowing in the least how to
defend herself after these remarks, merely answered, “Indeed,
ma'am, I am sorry to disappoint you,” and with an air of serenity
that she did not quite feel, took up her fork and stabbed a bit of
fluffy egg from the plate that had been set before her.

“If you are quite through, Lydia,” the
Dowager cut in, “then I have several letters in my study that need
sent around by messenger. Please see to it that Ashton takes care
of this immediately.”

“Of course,” Lydia replied, recognizing the
dismissing tone in the Duchess's voice. “Very nice to have you
here, Miss Murdock,” she added and pushed back from the table, her
still enviable figure moving to the door.

“Please forgive Lydia,” the Dowager told Miss
Murdock once that lady had left. “She can be quite insufferable,
but I hardly think she has the wit to know better.”

“She was merely speaking the truth in this
matter, milady, so it is impossible for me to take affront,” Miss
Murdock replied. “It is obvious to everyone just how disparate this
match is except to his lordship himself. Once he realizes that he
is not fooling anyone, then this will all, thankfully, be at an
end.”

“And whom is it he wishes to fool, Miss
Murdock?” the Dowager asked in a casual voice.

Miss Murdock looked at her rather startled,
said with guilty evasiveness, “Oh, I could not say, ma'am, if that
is even his intention. For I have no idea what goes on in his head.
It is merely the horse, ma'am, that he wished to procure, and he
will see that it is not worth all of this, I am sure.”