In the Brief Eternal Silence (40 page)

“Lizzie,” he said quite a bit shocked. “Are
you saying you are dangerously close to considering a liaison with
me?”

“It would be indelicate of me to confirm
that, Andrew,” she said with a great deal of primness.

“Of course,” he said with wonder, then
pressed, “But I fail to see how you could consider that particular
situation and not consider, well, a more honorable solution?”

“I fear that my very attraction to you makes
me afraid of considering anything so drastic! For how am I to know
that I am not being blinded by a fleeting feeling of ardor that may
unexpectedly pass, as it may for you?” she added gently. “Then each
of us would be left with regrets. I beg that you do not repeat your
behavior, for I may be tempted to take the low road rather than the
high, and then where would I be?”

“You are so right, Lizzie,” Andrew said, his
voice contrite. “Whatever was I thinking to put such temptation
before you?”

“Indeed, I forgive you,” Miss Murdock said.
“As long as you are aware that you are putting my mortal soul in
danger of toppling to the depths of self-indulgence by your actions
and you must promise to never so entice me again.”

“Certainly I will promise!” Andrew said with
conviction. “And as usual you are showing your good common sense,
for if you are to reach a point where you may wish to consider my
suit, then it must be because of those gentler emotions and not
from the wildness of your nearly uncontrollable desires.”

Miss Murdock, trying not to show how very
amused she was at his self-gratifying statement, only said, “I am
glad you understand me so completely.”

There was a brief understanding look between
them, and then they were interrupted by Andrew's mother saying,
“Oh, there you both are! It is nearly time to leave for Almacks,
you know.”

Lizzie, reminded of the evening before her,
lost all her feelings of satisfaction that she had managed to put
off Andrew from any amorous actions toward her while also boosting
his feelings of manly prowess rather than doing them some grievous
harm, turned to Lady Lydia with a pasty smile plastered to her lips
and said, “Oh, yes, of course.”

Lady Lydia gave her such a warm smile that it
nearly dazzled her with its brilliance. “You look lovely, tonight,
Miss Murdock. I could not ask for a more rewarding young lady to
launch. I think you will make some happy suitor's mother feel very
lucky to have you some day as her daughter-in-law,” she said, her
face bright.

And Miss Murdock wondered just how long Lady
Lydia had been standing in the door, after all.

Almacks was a crush when they arrived at ten
o'clock. It was the first assembly of the Big Season, that social
period when most members of the peerage take up residence in London
to spend the winter months, with only a break to return to their
country estates at Christmas time for a brief few weeks. And
although the Season would continue when everyone again returned to
London, by then the weather would have worsened, and with Christmas
over, everyone would be a little weary of the endless socializing
and so after Christmas, it was no longer considered the Big Season,
but merely the Season. Then of course, there was the Little Season,
in summer, but as those of importance would spend their summer
enjoying their country estates, it was of not much consequence.
Although there were those who could not tolerate being so long in
the country, viewing it as boring rather than relaxing, and they in
turn returned to London early and so the Little Season had its
place also. But everyone agreed that nothing matched the Big
Season.

The Larrimer party made their way into the
assembly room, which Miss Murdock, upon taking in her surroundings,
found rather disappointing. It was as large and open as a barn, and
had not much in the way of adornment. She soon realized that the
adornments were left to the guests to provide, for the amount of
jewelry, and the luxuriant range of colors of silk and velvet and
lace were breathtaking against the plain backdrop of their
setting.

Andrew escorted them through the crush, all
of his cheerful attention taken up with making sure the Dowager
Duchess on his arm was not tripped up by the pushing and jostling
of the high-heeled crowd. She seemed to be enjoying herself,
nodding to the left and to the right to old acquaintances of hers,
who, from what Miss Murdock could tell, seemed somewhat surprised
by her attendance. She and Lady Lydia followed behind the Duchess
and Andrew, and she was in positive dread that she would somehow be
separated from them and would be left among this tight throng of
people on her own.

The faces about her were laughing and
smiling, some had not seen each other since the Season of last year
apparently, and there was much catching up to do, and yet, it
seemed to Lizzie, they were always glancing about, and as their
bright eyes chanced to settle on one of the debutantes to be
launched this season, there would be a quick fluttering of fans
over their faces as they identified each and passed on any on dits
they may know.

If this were not intimidating enough, there
were the men, presumably many of which were 'hanging out for a
wife'. They barely spoke to each other at all, but stood in little
groups in their elegant clothing as though they were at a polo
match, and it appeared that any conversation they had was only
asides as they pointed out something (or in this case, someone) of
interest to them. Although there were many that were young and
handsome (and many that were young and mayhaps not so handsome),
there were a good many that, to Miss Murdock's surprise, appeared
rather old. As she was trying to puzzle out why men apparently well
past this stage of their lives should still be so avidly ‘scanning
the market', so to speak, Lady Lydia whispered enlightenment in her
ear.

“Widowers, Miss Murdock. And I beg you, do
not dismiss them out of hand for being old, as they are quite well
set in the pocket, if you know what I mean.”

Miss Murdock, distracted by one of this set
of men raising a quizzing glass to study her (which, to her immense
relief, he dropped a disappointed second later), returned to Lady
Lydia that she would certainly bear this in mind.

“Do,” Lady Lydia encouraged her, and slanted
a beguiling smile upon the discussed gaggle of hopefuls, and Miss
Murdock remembered that of course, Lady Lydia's husband, St. James'
uncle, had died nearly a year ago. Lady Lydia would be out of
mourning very soon.

Andrew at last found a path for them toward
one of the walls where there were lined many chairs and a few
settees, and luckily, he found one of the latter and settled the
Duchess down upon it. Lady Lydia dived upon the other cushion of
it, complaining bitterly but happily that her new shoes were
killing her feet. Miss Murdock, who had observed that Lady Lydia
was not only fond of squeezing herself into stays that were too
tight, but she also seemed fond of squeezing her feet into shoes
that were too small, made a commiserate sound in her throat.
Feeling conspicuous, as she was the only one of their party
standing (Andrew had abandoned them, saying something of getting
them all refreshment from the tables, but as she could see that he
had only gone a few feet before being waylaid by first male friends
and then interested, flirtatious females, it was doubtful that they
would see him again for some time) she turned and settled herself
in awkward, and, yes, dowdy position on the arm of the settee. It
was not as good as sitting properly, but as she was not very tall
at any rate, it gave her the satisfaction of feeling somewhat
hidden behind the wall of people before her that seemed to fill the
room in a solid mass from end to end and side to side. However
there would be room to dance when the music started, Miss Murdock
had no idea.

“It is a frightful crush!” the Dowager
Duchess just beside and a little below her said. “I can not
remember ever seeing it so crowded. And look there, Lydia. Is that
not Bertram Tempton?”

Lady Lydia squinted through the moving crowd.
“Why, yes. Yes, it is,” she agreed, a little amazed. “I always
believed him to be one of those who was devoted to Whites rather
than to Almacks.”

“Indeed, yes,” the Dowager returned.

Miss Murdock leaned in a little to ask,
“Whites?” for she had recognized Lord Tempton also and it was
rather nice to know someone in the crowd other than whom she had
come with.

“Gaming Hell,” the Duchess explained.

Miss Murdock digested this, then perplexed by
another question, asked, “But if he does not ever come to Almacks
either, why was he not denied vouchers as St. James has been?”

The Duchess looked at her a little surprised.
“Whoever told you that St. James had been denied vouchers?”

“My maid,” Miss Murdock said with a guilty
flush, for she was certain there must be some protocol about
gossiping with the servants, or at least admitting to gossiping
with the servants.

The duchess harrumphed and gave her a stern
look, but she did answer her question. “No scandals laid at
Bertram's door, my child. And I am sure they have searched quite
diligently for some wrongdoing on his part, but although he always
seems to be on the scene whenever St. James is up to one of his
tricks, it is always generally agreed that it would have been much
worse had Tempton not been there.”

“Oh,” Miss Murdock said.

“They would dearly love to deny him vouchers
also, I am sure,” the Duchess continued. “But they can not, for
then it would obviously be because they felt snubbed. And never
would it do for them to admit that anyone dares to snub them.”

Lady Lydia said in a thoughtful voice, “Most
odd that he should be here.” She paused a moment, glancing around
the room. “Now that I am noticing, there are a great deal of faces
here that I would have never expected to see. It seems as though
Whites must be suffering an extreme lack of attendance tonight. And
Boodles, also, I daresay.”

“Boodles?” Miss Murdock asked.

“Another Gaming Hell,” the Duchess replied.
“You are right, Lydia. For there is Marquis Engleson. And over
there is Viscount Brookline.”

Lady Lydia pointed out several other
discoveries and Miss Murdock looked around trying to catch glimpses
of those being nodded at in rapid succession. She saw that a great
many others in the crowd of what she could only suppose were the
'regulars' were chatting with animation amongst themselves and
seemed to be nodding to one person and another and exclaiming
also.

“Do you suppose,” Lady Lydia asked, “that
there is an incomparable to be launched tonight?”

“I could not say, of course, Lydia,” the
Duchess returned with impatience, “but it seems obvious that rumor
of someone's being here tonight has lured a great many more people
than would come otherwise.”

“Well, it must be an exceptionally beautiful
debutante,” Lady Lydia insisted, “for so many of the jaded set to
show up.”

“Oh, I do not know,” the Duchess disagreed,
“for I saw the same thing happen nearly thirty years ago when Earl
Abormaril was pursuing his future wife. He had been a rake until
well into his forties, and when he was at last taken with a young
lass half his age, the betting at Whites as to whether she could
reel him in was stupendous.” As an afterthought, she added, “So I
was told at any rate.”

Miss Murdock, with the sudden insight that in
all probability, the Duchess had someone placing her money down for
her at that establishment, gave a small chuckle. “And did you win,
ma'am?” she asked when the Duchess looked at her.

The Duchess grinned. “Oh, yes. You may be
certain of that. But it was quite an entertaining affair, at any
rate, and as so many of the jaded set had money riding on the
outcome, they showed up at the functions just as they are tonight
to decide for themselves the odds.” She added a little musingly, “I
never thought I would see such a ridiculous Season repeated, for it
was most outlandish.”

“Well, if it is happening again, I can only
say that I shall be just a little bit sorry not to see it,” Miss
Murdock said with honesty, for she was finding it quite enjoyable
to sit and be an onlooker at this great throng of boisterous people
and hearing what the Duchess and Lady Lydia were making of it
all.

Then Andrew was back, and as he had balanced
two small cups in one hand and a third in the other, it was evident
that he had been about procuring them all refreshment despite how
it may have looked to the contrary. “You will never guess the rumor
I have heard, nor credit it, I dare say!” he exclaimed without
preamble as he handed out the cups, but before he could go on there
was a sudden disturbance in the assembly room, starting, it
appeared, at the entrance, and he turned (as did, it seemed,
everyone else present) to observe this, and never did enlighten
them as to the rumor he had heard.

Miss Murdock heard a sudden growing whisper
run through the

crowd, jumping impossible distances so that
those in the back of the room appeared to hear before those in the
middle. It encompassed everyone in just a brief few seconds, and
those who had not heard it began to see for themselves what the
whispering was about, until they too said it with amazed
anticipation. Disjointed words and phrases came to Lizzie’s ears:
Impossible. . . Virtually barred, I had heard. . . And Egads! his
face. . . They say he. . . That can not be what I think it is. . .
Really, I had not heard. . . Slapped. . . The nerve to show up
looking like that. . . Is she here tonight. . . Scandalous. . .
They will have no choice but to bar him now. . . No one decent. . .
Can you credit it. . . Well, I certainly shan't let my daughter
dance with him. . . Ruinous. . . Such a shame he is the way he is
for his worth, you know. . . Waste. . . Once 'the catch of the
decade', now look at him. . . Obscene. . . Even he should know. . .
Simply unacceptable. . .