In the Brief Eternal Silence (36 page)

“And no matter what he says to lure you down
in the middle of the night, you must never, never go!” More head
shaking by Lady Lydia and responding head shaking from Miss
Murdock.

“Normally, I would not be so understanding,
but, of course, your mother has been dead for some years and there
is no way that you could know what every other young lady of
quality has had positively drilled into her head.” And she dabbed
at her eye as though most overcome by this sad, sad state of
affairs. “Oh, my poor, dear child,” she whispered.

Then she sat forward. “You must tell me, Miss
Murdock,” she advised in a hushed, sympathetic voice, “Did he
compromise you in any way?”

And Miss Murdock, feeling off-balance, shook
her head and said, “No, of course he did not.”

And Lady Lydia patted her hand. “Then you got
off very lucky, indeed, my dear. But I don't have to tell you, that
if it ever came out that you had even met with him, you would be
quite, quite ruined. But you needn't fear, for I shall not breath a
word of it to anyone.”

There was a tapping on the door, and Miss
Murdock called for entrance with a great deal of enthusiasm.

Jeannie's red head stuck in upon the door's
opening, and her green eyes took in the presence of Lady Lydia
closeted with Miss Murdock in her sitting room off bed chamber with
a degree of suppressed interest, but she only said, “Miss, the
Duchess has asked that you come below, for she has a caller and
wishes you to meet her. And Lady Lydia, I am sure she would wish
you to know also.”

“Oh,” Lady Lydia smiled, always anxious to
receive callers, which in the year after her husband's death had
dwindled in respect for the household's mourning. “Who is it?”

“Lady Frobisher, ma'am,” Jeannie replied.

“Oh, very important,” she said. “Go on, Miss
Murdock, for you would not wish to snub her in any way. I'll follow
you down in just a moment, I just need to quickly refresh myself in
my room.” She took Miss Murdock's hand in hers and patted it in a
reassuring fashion. “And about this other matter, Miss Murdock, I
have quite a bit of advice to give you, for I can see now that if
any one is at fault, it is I for not seeing more clearly my duty by
you, as the Duchess is just not fully up to it any more. And of
course she has a blind spot where her grandson is concerned large
enough to drive a dray through— but nevermind! We will take this up
where we left off later, shall we?”

But she did not even leave time for Miss
Murdock to answer as she rose from her chair as she spoke and the
tail end of her words came just before she passed Jeannie and went
out the door.

“Do you wish to freshen up, miss?” Jeannie
asked Miss Murdock.

Miss Murdock, who had risen from her seat
also, paused in her strides to the door. “Do I look badly?” she
asked, uncertain.

“No, Miss. You look quite well.”

“Well, then, I think I shall just escape
before she changes her mind and returns,” Miss Murdock breathed and
passed on through the door that Jeannie held open for her. She
observed Lady Lydia making her way down the hallway in the opposite
direction of the stairs as she went to make ready for her visitor
in whatever way she seemed to deem necessary, and Miss Murdock
would not have spared her another thought except she chanced to
notice that when Lady Lydia turned into her bedchamber it was on
the opposite side of the hallway from Miss Murdock's room.

And that struck Miss Murdock as very odd
indeed, enough for her to pause before going down the hallway, for
her own bedroom looked over the mew, and she could not see how Lady
Lydia would have thus been aware of the carriage parked in it last
night when her own room faced the other direction.

“Jeannie, was that Lady Lydia's bedchamber
that she turned into?” she asked her maid.

Jeannie glanced down the hallway, but of
course Lady Lydia was already out of view, but she did say, “If you
mean the third door down on the right, ma'am, I believe that to be
her bedchamber.”

Miss Murdock smiled with distraction at this
confirmation that Lady Lydia had indeed gone into her own
bedchamber. “Thank you, Jeannie. I was merely curious,” and she
turned to go below without any further delay.

“Ah, there you are, Miss Murdock,” the
Dowager Duchess said when Ashton opened the door for her to enter
the sitting salon. “I was just telling Lady Frobisher that I hoped
I was not interrupting you taking a rest, for you only arrived the
night before last and are still feeling a little tired from your
journey.”

Miss Murdock curtsied before that lady, said,
“I am very pleased to meet you, Lady Frobisher,” and then replied
to the duchess, “I was endur. . . er, enjoying a tête-à-tête with
Lady Larrimer, ma'am, and she has said she will be down momentarily
to join us.”

“Oh,” the Duchess said, sounding less than
pleased at the thought of her daughter-in-law joining them. “But
have a seat, Miss Murdock. Lady Frobisher was very surprised to
learn I had a visitor to launch for the season this year.”

“Indeed, I was,” Lady Frobisher agreed. “And
I am very charmed to meet you.”

“Thank you, Lady Frobisher,” Miss Murdock
acknowledged.

“And I shall be seeing you again this
evening,” Lady Frobisher went on to tell her, “for the Duchess
tells me you shall be attending tonight and that it is to be your
first time in Almacks.”

“Yes. It is my first time in London, so every
thing is quite new, and a little overwhelming, I dare say.”

Lady Frobisher smiled at this confession, and
appeared to take some pride in the fact that she must seem very
urban indeed to this rural miss. “I find it very entertaining to
see ourselves through someone's eyes who is uninitiated, Miss
Murdock, for I fear that the wonder of it all has escaped me many
years ago.”

“Oh, surely it could not be so many years
ago,” Miss Murdock told her, twinkling, “for you scarce look as
though you had your coming out yourself but recently.”

Lady Frobisher laughed with delight. “Oh, but
she is a flatterer, Dowager Larrimer!” she said.

“I am learning very quickly,” Miss Murdock
explained.

“And you shall make out splendidly, I am
sure,” Lady Frobisher agreed. She turned to glance at the Duchess
with a raised eyebrow. “I can see just what you had been saying,
Dowager, and I have only spoken but a scarce few words with
her.”

“Then you can understand, I hope, my urgency
on the matter I was speaking of with you?”

Lady Frobisher nodded her head in
understanding. “Yes. I believe I do.” She turned to Miss Murdock
and told her as though enlightening her in some manner, “I am the
head of the ladies who organize the events at Almacks, Miss
Murdock.”

“Oh! I see,” Miss Murdock said with what she
deemed to be the proper amount of awe in her voice. “I am sure it
must be an incredible amount of work.”

“And indeed it is,” Lady Frobisher said. “For
you must have an inexhaustible knowledge of all the families of the
peerage, and know who is properly respectable and who is somewhat
lacking. The assemblies at Almacks have been built on the tradition
of respectability, Miss Murdock,” she lectured with sternness. “And
we in charge of the assemblies are trusted by everyone to insure
that when our young people mingle, that there is none of bad
influence among them, and that anyone they meet in our assembly
room is a desirable match in marriage. It is a great responsibility
and I take it very seriously.”

“I see,” Miss Murdock said, but she had a
great desire to laugh, for it all seemed very pompous and
pretentious to her.

“So you may rest assured,” Lady Frobisher
continued, “that if we perhaps were to allow someone access that
had been denied access before, it is only because we have great
hopes that he is at last reforming, and it is our duty as
Christians to afford him an opportunity to redeem himself in the
eyes of society.”

“But of course,” Miss Murdock said, wondering
how this particular wrinkle managed to make its way into the
conversation.

Lady Frobisher nodded at her in approval, as
though she had given precisely the answer she had been looking for.
“I just do not want it to be even hinted at that we ladies of the
board had somehow been swayed by the rank of any particular
person.”

“Certainly not,” Miss Murdock agreed. “For I
can see that you take your position quite sincerely and it would be
an injustice indeed for any one to think you could be swayed to a
decision by anything but a person's character.”

“Exactly,” Lady Frobisher agreed and gave the
Dowager, who had been sitting and listening to this exchange with a
great deal of amusement on her face, another approving nod. “I must
say that your Miss Murdock is a most sensible girl!”

Miss Murdock, who could see no sense in any
of this conversation, merely said, “Thank you.”

The Dowager told Lady Frobisher, “As I had
said, Lady Frobisher.”

Lady Frobisher glanced at the clock, said,
“Well, my hour is up, Duchess St. James. If I can be of any other
assistance, you know you only need to call upon me.”

The Duchess told her, “You are doing me a
great service already, Lady Frobisher.”

“Well,” that Lady said as she rose from her
seat. “Allowances must be made, I have always said. Although I must
tell you, had it been anyone but you to ask, well, the outcome may
have been different.”

“I understand,” the Dowager agreed. “And I do
not blame you in the least.”

“And begging your pardon,” Lady Frobisher
added, “but I always knew this day would come. For no one can do
the 'proper' without Almacks to help guide the way!”

“And I am certainly aware of it,” the Duchess
returned. “And I hope the wedding present I have made out for your
daughter expresses my thanks adequately.”

Lady Frobisher paused at that, her eyes
losing a great deal of their self-important gleam. “It does,
indeed, Duchess St. James. So please, do not even mention your
gratitude further.”

“Of course not,” the Duchess agreed. “For I
would not want it to be thought that I had suddenly shown your
daughter some sort of favoritism when we both know I have been very
fond of her since she was born. So perhaps we should keep it our
little secret or I shall have people I do not know as well as I
know you suddenly sending me invitations for weddings when I am but
on nodding acquaintance with them.”

Lady Frobisher was all smiles again. “I'm
sure that would be best, Dowager, for I would not want any one less
scrupulous than I to take advantage of your generosity.”

“Oh, a horrid thought.”

“Yes. Most horrid.”

“Good day, Lady Frobisher.”

“And good day to you, Dowager, Miss
Murdock.”

Lady Frobisher took her leave and the Duchess
sat back and smiled.

“Oh, my,” Lady Lydia exclaimed from the door,
“Did I miss our caller, then?”

“I'm afraid you have, Lydia,” the Duchess
told her. “But nevermind, for you shall see her tonight at Almacks
of course, along with many others. I have no doubt it will be a
horrendous crush.”

“Oh, I certainly hope so,” Lady Lydia
returned. “Aren't you looking forward to it, Miss Murdock?” she
asked breathlessly.

Miss Murdock smiled to be agreeable. “I'm
sure it shall be very interesting,” she offered. She was all the
more disconcerted when the Duchess laughed gaily.

By the time Tyler perceived and set out upon
St. James' trail, it was late afternoon. The finer weather of that
morning had clouded over and it looked to be only a brief time
before cold rain would fall from the sky. Tyler could think of
several better places to be than riding out of London toward a
horse market.

In all likelihood, even if he found his
employer, it was a fruitless endeavor, for he was quite certain
that even as he rode, Miss Murdock must already be feeling the
consequences of her escapade with the duke the night before. At
this thought, Tyler spit a determined stream of tobacco juice from
his mouth and shook his head. He muttered beneath his breath, as he
had frequently since he had begun his search for his employer over
two hours before. “Can't credit it, can't credit it, can't credit
it,” he said. “For him to be so bloody careless—” He cursed a
little with worry, added to himself, “And now I can't bloody find
him when he should be well aware that it be important I know where
he is, and when I do get wind of where he is, he's off purchasing
another bloody horse.”

As if to punctuate his dark displeasure with
his lordship, the rain that had been threatening began to fall. No
kind drizzle this, but an outpouring of great drenching drops that
forced Tyler to halt his horse and tug his cap down more tightly on
his head and lift the collar of his coat as high as he could coax
it. Then with an even grimmer expression, he kicked his unhappy
horse forward on down the road.

He had just come into sight of the market
place, which was in an open field and was fast breaking up with the
sudden onslaught of rain, when he saw the familiar figure of his
lordship just leaving. Beside him rode Ryan Tempton, as Tyler had
expected, having gained his first insight of where the duke had
gone that day by following a hunch and inquiring at the Tempton
residence when calling at the duke's home had been of no help.

Ryan had on lead a flashy black filly, her
coat shining in the rain like so much crude oil, and St. James for
his part was leading a horse behind his mount that was possibly the
poorest specimen of an equine that Tyler had ever seen. The groom
pulled his horse to a stop, as they were headed for him at any
rate, and merely sat there observing the elegant duke and his
lamentable purchase: a sway backed, heavy headed, small horse just
slightly larger than a pony, more appropriately called a cob.