Laura Matthews (21 page)

Now, it was true that Vanessa was a concerned mother, although she was an indulgent mother as well. John and Catherine were precious to her, no doubt about that. Edward found them a nuisance, but he was willing to concede that their mother, poor lonely widow that she was, put some store in them. It seemed perfectly reasonable to him that if he were to rescue young John from some peril, the grateful woman would fall into his arms without further ado. So he set himself to planning an accident where he could rush forward as the hero, but William’s voice irritated him and he found himself unable to concentrate. Edward excused himself.

His hostess would have liked to do the same, but William continued to speak and she politely sat and listened to him. The thought did just run through her head, though, that she was not going to be able to tolerate this much longer. Either William was going to have to marry Louisa and take her away, or he was going to have to go away himself. When his voice began to run down, she asked, “Are you and Louisa going for a ride this morning? It’s perfect weather.”

“I haven’t spoken with Miss Curtiss this morning,” he announced primly. “She will in all probability wish to parade about the garden with her new parasol.”

Vanessa lost patience with him. Ordinarily she was a remarkably patient woman. She had to be to put up with all the disagreeable people who resided in her home. But having Alvescot leave had put her nerves on edge and she very unfairly snapped at William.

“What are you doing here, William? Why are you at Cutsdean? Do you know you’ve been at Cutsdean for nine of the last twelve months?”

Tactless people are often very sensitive to slights themselves. William was offended by her questions, mostly perhaps because he couldn’t think how to answer them, but for his dignity as well. He sulked. “You said I was welcome here.”

“Well, I’ve changed my mind,” she retorted, unrepentant. “When you first came, I believed you to be Louisa's suitor. I thought her happiness was dependent upon your visiting and making her an offer of marriage. But it never comes—the offer, that is. You come, and you stay and you stay and you stay. We aren’t related, William, and I can see no reason to feed and house you, to say nothing of your horses, for endless periods of time, if you are unwilling to come to the point with Louisa. I realize it has been difficult for you, with Mabel pushing Louisa at Lord Alvescot, but you should have taken a stand instead of pouting about the house.”

“I haven’t pouted.”

“You’re pouting now.” Rather than being relieved by venting her spleen, she was growing more exasperated. She leaned toward him, tapping her spoon on the table to make her point. “One week, William. I will give you one week to make your declaration to Louisa. And then, if you don’t do it—out. There’s no point in this. You’re breaking poor Louisa’s heart. I don’t care if her mother is a pest and her brother a villain. If you want to marry her, you should do so. If you don’t, then stop hanging about her as if you meant to. It’s unfair to her and it’s unfair to me. You have a home to go to, and I want you to go there, with or without Louisa.”

William stared at her, wide-eyed. No one had ever spoken to him quite like that before and he was near to expiring with the shock. She had always seemed such a refined young woman. If he hadn’t been so attached to Louisa, he might have made her an offer himself. Indignant, he pushed back his chair and bowed stiffly to her. But he had to have the last word and he said, “I shall go to London.”

“Go anywhere you please. Just do it before the week is out.”

“I shall go today.”

“Just as you like,” she muttered, tossing down her napkin and rising. She was alarmed that things had gotten out of hand, but she refused to let him see it. “I’m sure, when you’re gone, Louisa will be besieged with suitors.” My God, she sounded just like Mabel. In order to keep herself from saying anything more of that ridiculous nature, she hastened from the room, leaving him standing there gaping at her.

Vanessa hid in the Morning Room for the next two hours. She had no desire to see anyone, to talk to anyone. How could she have so mishandled the situation? Her embarrassment made the color come and go in her cheeks each time she thought of it. There was no harm in William, any more than there was in Louisa. He had a few annoying habits, and he was no brighter than he needed to be, but that was no excuse for blundering into his private life and rudely ejecting him from her household.

And Louisa was going to be so upset. Poor woman! She had spent twelve years waiting for him to propose to her, and now, when there might have been some chance, with Alvescot gone and Mabel presumably desperate to see her daughter settled, the opportunity was snatched from within her grasp.

Vanessa was not ordinarily given to such dramatic mental images, but all her emotions seemed to be in a chaotic state that morning. She must take hold of herself and act more reasonably. Not so reasonably as to apologize to William, though. That she would not do. Of all of them, he had the least right to impose on her, and a stubborn core of her said that she had every right to ask him to leave if she wanted to.

Eventually, she went to visit with the children. They were a little subdued that morning and she took them both on her lap and read to them. The story was not very exciting, but they cuddled close and listened almost absently. They were nearing the end of the little book when the door burst open and Louisa stumbled into the room.

“He’s leaving! Vanessa, William’s leaving. All his valises are packed and sitting in the front hall. And he won’t say anything to me except that you told him to go.” In her distress, Louisa kept wringing her hands and shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other. “I don’t understand. What did he do? Did you really tell him to leave?”

The children stared up at Vanessa, puzzled and a little alarmed. She gave them each a hug and turned to the nursemaid. “Will you finish reading this story to them, Lucy? I’ll be back after luncheon.”

By now the tears were flowing freely down Louisa’s face. Vanessa winced, feeling desperately guilty again but knowing there was no way she could retrieve the situation. Her own handkerchief was thrust into Louisa’s hand and she put an arm about her waist to lead her from the schoolroom. Looking horribly betrayed, Louisa gasped, “You did tell him to leave, didn’t you?”

“In a way, yes,” Vanessa admitted, leading her companion to Catherine’s room across the hall where they could sit undisturbed for a while. The room was done in yellow and white, looking bright and gay in the summer morning sunlight. Vanessa gently urged Louisa into a striped satin chair and pulled one close so she could speak softly. “I’m sorry this has happened, Louisa. My nerves were a bit on edge this morning, and William made a snide remark about your parasol. I promise you I hadn’t any intention of asking him to leave when I went down to breakfast this morning.”

“What did he say about my parasol?” Louisa sniffled, not looking at her companion.

“Oh, just that you would probably want to parade about the garden with it.
You
know how he has been. Well, I became annoyed with him for behaving like that, when here was the perfect opportunity to settle things with you, and I told him.” Vanessa flushed, but Louisa had her eyes pressed to the handkerchief. “I told him I would give him a week to offer for you, and if he didn’t, he’d have to leave. He said he would leave today.”

Louisa straightened in her chair, clutching the wet handkerchief against her bosom. “He’s leaving because he doesn’t want to offer for me?” she asked, despair making her voice shake.

“No, he’s leaving because I was so presumptuous as to give him an ultimatum.” Vanessa said it very firmly, to ensure its penetrating her unhappy friend’s mind, but she could not be sure that it had. “He’s miffed that I would bring up the subject at all, and he has no intention of being dictated to by me. And I shouldn’t have done it, Louisa, but I felt so very impatient with him this morning. I
don’t expect you to understand or to forgive me. It was wrong, but on the other hand I won’t beg his pardon, either.”

“Of course not,” Louisa said, pride stiffening her drooping shoulders. She rose, absently dropping the handkerchief on the floor. The tears had stopped abruptly and she reached out to squeeze Vanessa’s hand. “You had every right to do what you did, my dear, and I think it is best we know just how matters stand. There certainly is no reason for William to be here if he doesn’t plan to marry me. Strange, I had always thought he did, you know. How very odd! Well,” she said, forcing down a lingering sob, “I shall just have to accept this turn of events. It is better to know now, than to go on as we have been for the last twelve years. I do wish this had happened a little sooner, though. If I had known he didn’t intend to marry me, I would have looked about for someone else, as Mama says it is the only course for a woman—marriage. And I've grown a trifle old to be much in demand. That wasn’t the case when I was twenty. But that is bragging! We are all more in demand when we’re twenty, aren’t we? I don’t know quite why it is men think girls are so much more interesting than women. I have never found them so, but I’m not a man. Perhaps William liked me better when I was a girl.”

“Louisa, really, you don’t understand!” Vanessa protested. “William’s leaving isn’t a sign that he doesn’t want to marry you. It’s me he’s angry with.”

The vague eyes were not quite so vague when Louisa placed a hand on her arm, her head held erect. “It’s as good an excuse as any, Vanessa. He cannot bring himself to the sticking point, so he used that to get away. Just think how often he has quarreled with me for the same purpose. Whenever we were getting too comfortable, there was always some little disagreement. Oh, I know I am guilty of my share, but that was only because he would purposely say something to provoke me and I couldn’t resist being provoked. He doesn’t want to marry me.”

“Nonsense. He does want to marry you; he just doesn’t want to marry your family.”

Louisa blinked uncertain eyes, then shrugged. “Possibly. It amounts to the same thing in the end, doesn’t it?”

There was no good answer, and the question was rhetorical, anyhow. Louisa turned toward the door, fumbled with the knob, and let herself out into the hall. Because she didn’t seem to remember in which direction to go, Vanessa quickly picked up the soggy handkerchief and followed her, leading the way toward the stairs. “Are you going to say good-bye to him?” she asked gently.

“No. I would only make a fool of myself. I’ll stay in my room until he’s gone.”

Feeling utterly helpless and not a little responsible, Vanessa saw Louisa to her room. They could hear the sounds of activity in the Entry Hall and Vanessa decided she really should go down and bid her guest farewell. The front door was open and his traveling carriage could be seen standing on the gravel, already piled high with valises. Vanessa had had no idea he had so much with him. To think that now the Chinese Chippendale bedchamber would be empty, after Alvescot had left. It hardly seemed fair.

William was standing on the black and white tiles giving instructions. “That is to go in the carriage with me. No, don’t put anything more on the top. Strap this one to the rear. I shall be wearing the cloak to keep off the dirt of the road, even though it is a warm day.”

When he heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs, he swung around, but apparently it was not Vanessa he expected to see. His gaze traveled further up to the hall above and then confusedly returned to her. He said stiffly, “As you can see, I’m leaving now. Thank you for having me.”

“Of course. I trust you’ll have a pleasant journey.”

“This is not the type of day I would ordinarily choose to travel,” he said petulantly, his gaze once more seeking the upper hall. “But then, I have no choice.”

“You had a choice.”

He rammed a beaver hat on his diminishing locks, bowed slightly, and moved to the door. Once again his eyes raced up the stairs. In a loud voice he announced, “I’m leaving now.”

“Yes, so you said. If you’ve forgotten anything, we’ll forward it to Suffolk.”

“I’m going to London.”

“Well, if you wish to leave your direction, we’ll send anything there.”

William scowled at the upstairs hall. “I won’t be leaving my direction.”

“As you wish. Good-bye.” Vanessa was tempted to offer her hand, but he was paying no attention to her. Tompkins stood waiting to close the door behind him, but still William hesitated.

“I haven’t left anything behind,” he said, stalling. “I was very careful about that. Every drawer, even under the bed. I didn’t just trust the servants; I looked myself. You won’t find anything, not a trace of me, once I’ve gone, once the dust has settled behind the carriage. It will be as though I’d never been here.”

The thought seemed to depress him. With one more hopeless glance at the stairs, he turned and walked out, his shoulders hunched forward and his hands clasped uneasily behind his back. “Good-bye,” he called as he stepped into the carriage. Vanessa could hear his instruction for the coachman to proceed before Tompkins closed the door. And then the crunch of the wheels on the gravel, which quickly faded.

Vanessa could not resist glancing up to see if Louisa had come out of her room, but the hall above was empty.

Chapter Fifteen

It took Edward several days to devise a scheme which pleased him. He didn’t want anything to go wrong. If the child were actually to come to any harm, Vanessa was more likely to boot him out of the house, as she had Oldcastle, than she was to marry him.

Neither Louisa nor Vanessa was willing to talk about Oldcastle’s departure and Edward began to wonder if he’d made some sort of amorous advance toward his hostess. Edward had contemplated the efficacy of such a step, but especially now decided it wouldn’t do. He had to cover for himself. If he wasn’t able to convince Vanessa to marry him, he still wanted to be able to live at Cutsdean and receive his allowance.

There was diversion enough for him in Basingstoke. Edward wasn’t particularly interested in Vanessa’s body. She wasn’t really his type at all, being so tall and dark. He preferred small fair-haired women, feminine versions of himself. Vanessa’s sole advantage, as far as he was concerned, was the access she would give him to financial independence. He didn’t really like her caustic tongue, nor her understanding of estate matters. When he became master of Cutsdean she would have to slide back into a more properly female role—directing the household and crocheting doilies, planning entertainments and taking her children to visit her parents in Somerset.