Lois Menzel (21 page)

She took Lord Tenbury’s warning to heart and moved about the city with greater care. When she needed to go out alone, she took the coach and two strong, young footmen with her. At all other times she insisted Sophy Boone join her. In the evenings she attended parties only with people she knew and trusted: Arelia, Lady Tenbury, Jack Saunders, and several of their closest friends.

Anne was discovering, as she had at Tenton Castle, that all she had read and learned over the years had a much larger application than she had been afforded in debate and discussion with her father.

The provocative, stimulating conversations she had shared with Arelia and Dennis were only the beginning. London, the world for that matter, offered hundreds of new thoughts and experiences only waiting for her to take part.

After the night at Vauxhall Gardens, she took care to avoid Lord Crilley, while he made no attempt to approach her.

Blake and Farringdon were still to be found among her admirers, usually claiming a dance when they were present at the same function. Anne found Lord Blake too obvious in his attentions. When he discovered she liked poetry, she suspected he dashed home to memorize a piece to share with her at their next meeting. When she mentioned once in passing that she admired yellow roses, a huge bouquet was delivered to her house the following morning. She thought he might be—as the Duke of Chadwicke had warned her—the man who would ultimately pay compliments to the color of her eyes.

Lord Farringdon she found fascinating, despite Arelia’s warning that he was a dissolute gambler. He never paid her outrageous compliments, but engaged her instead in lively and intriguing conversation. He had a singular sense of humor and was a remarkably fluid dancer. She found as the days passed that she looked forward to meeting him.

Tenbury viewed Anne’s cautious behavior with approval and was able to relax his vigilance somewhat. If there were those few who could not see past her wealth, there were a great many others who were slowly coming to know the real Anne Waverly. Her freshness and innocence colored every word she spoke. This was no jaded heiress, but a simple woman from the country with honest values, an optimistic outlook, and a superior understanding. Her unusual education made her conversant with so many topics that she could speak knowledgeably on nearly any subject her varied companions raised.

After their conversation on the morning following the masquerade, Tenbury hoped he would see some softening in Anne’s position toward him. He was to be disappointed, for although she was unfailingly polite whenever they met, she gave no sign that she had forgotten his behavior of the summer, or that she wanted to pursue a relationship with him.

With Jack, however, she showed no similar reserve. She met him at a ball several days after his return to town. Tenbury witnessed the warm smile she generously bestowed on his brother and had to admit to a pang of jealousy.

“Have you saved a dance for me?” Jack asked Anne.

“I did not know you would be here,” she complained, “but as it happens I am free for the next.”

He offered his arm and they walked off together. “It seems ages since I last saw you,” she said. “Tell me about the races. I have never been, but I think I should enjoy it above all things.”

They were soon beyond Tenbury’s hearing, but he continued to watch them as they joined the other dancers in a waltz.

Two weeks later, while Tenbury stood in conversation with Arelia at the edge of yet another crowded room, she pointed out that Jack and Anne were dancing for the second time that evening.

“I have never known Jack to take such interest in a woman,” she said. “He shows a decided preference for Anne’s company, and he has grown very particular in his attentions. She is older than he, of course, but I cannot think it would matter if she returned his regard. Do you think he has formed a serious attachment, Nate?”

When Tenbury realized she was waiting for an answer, he replied offhandedly, “I am sorry, Arelia, but I really have not thought much about it. If you will excuse me, I see someone I must speak with.” He left her and made his way across the room. He did not stop to speak with anyone but called for his coach. Within fifteen minutes he was home, seated before the fire in the library with a large brandy in his hand.

He had lied outright to his sister-in-law. Lately it seemed that the relationship between his brother and Anne was never far from his mind. They rode together, they drove together, they danced and talked and laughed together. And while their relationship continued to bloom, Tenbury’s efforts to reinstate himself in Anne’s good graces had failed utterly. Once when he asked her to drive with him, she excused herself, claiming another engagement; the one time he asked her to dance, she pled fatigue.

Always he clung to the memory of their kiss at the pool that moonlit night. She had kissed him; she had responded to him; she had returned his embrace. And yet, no sooner did that incident comfort him than he remembered the evening he interrupted Jack and Anne kissing in the library. They had offered excuses he had never truly believed. No doubt they had been strongly attracted to each other even then.

* * * *

Arelia’s mother lived in Bedfont. Confined to a wheeled chair by a severe bone disorder, she had invited her daughter and Miss Waverly for tea. On Monday, two days prior to the planned expedition to Bedfont, Anne shared luncheon with Lady Tenbury at Tenbury House, then stayed afterward talking with Jack in the library.

Just after one-thirty, Arelia joined them, an open letter in her hand. “I have received this message from Tenton,” she said. “It seems there has been some new problem with Tom. Mr. Pearce thinks I should come immediately to the Castle.”

“What does he say?” Anne asked.

Arelia read: “‘I fear Tom has discovered some new mischief. I am uncertain how you would have me deal with it. I would not ask you to undertake the journey from London if I did not consider the matter grave ...’ Do you think I should ask Tenbury to go?”

“He is
your
son, Arelia,” Jack responded. Then, feeling he had been too harsh, offered, “Shall I go? I will, if you like.”

“No. You are right, Jack. He is my son, and Mr. Pearce has asked for me, after all. But I must leave immediately, or else wait until tomorrow morning. I will need to send a note to my mother, telling her we cannot come on Wednesday.”

“Don’t do that,” Jack said. “There is no need to disappoint her. If the weather is fine I will borrow Tenbury’s curricle, and Anne and I will drive down to visit with her.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. Your mother’s cook makes the best macaroons this side of the Channel.”

“Glutton,” Arelia accused, but she smiled all the same as she planted a kiss on his cheek. “Another thing. There is a small trunk I planned to take along. It holds the fabric I bought Mother for new drawing room curtains. I promised I would bring it Wednesday. She will be disappointed—”

“We will take the trunk along. Where is it?” Jack asked.

“In my bedchamber; Barrett will show you. You are a sweet brother, Jack. I am indebted to you.”

“I am keeping score,” he answered as Arelia bid Anne farewell and rushed off to supervise the packing for her journey.

* * * *

Since Lady Tenbury had some affairs of her own to attend to in the country and did not care for the idea of her daughter-in-law traveling alone, she decided to accompany Arelia to Tenton. They arrived at the Castle on Wednesday in the late afternoon. Cold nights had already begun to turn the edges of the leaves yellow and scarlet, giving the forests a permanent frosted appearance. Along the hedgerows, tangled masses of bittersweet, blackberries, and elderberries offered a banquet to a great number of finches. Soon they would gather in flocks to journey to a warmer clime for the winter months. The last of the crops had been gathered, the soil turned by the plow to rest until spring.

Arelia had been gone only five weeks, yet she was pleased to be back again. She knew she delighted in Dennis’s company; she had not suspected how much she would miss him. When Lady Tenbury retired to her apartments to rest before dinner, Arelia hurried to her own room to wash and change her dress before descending to the salon and summoning Mr. Pearce.

He came immediately. His smile of greeting was thin.

“I am sorry to have disrupted your stay in London, Mrs. Saunders,” he said, quite formally, “but as I mentioned in my letter, I felt I needed to speak with you face to face.”

“I almost asked Tenbury to come in my stead,” Arelia confessed. “But Jack pointed out that Tom’s problems are more mine than Tenbury’s. What has he done now? You might as well tell me with no roundaboutation. I doubt there is much that would shock me anymore.”

“Late one night, several days ago,” he said, “he and Will rowed across the lake and then walked to Winthrop. There is a comely kitchen maid who works at the Duck ‘N’ Drake. As I understand it, when her chores are finished below stairs, she earns additional money working upstairs. Tom and Will were caught climbing the trees behind the inn, trying to see through the cracks in the curtains.”

Arelia sat down heavily on the couch behind her, as if her legs could no longer support her. She had been wrong: there was still something Tom could do to shock her. Assailed by a horrifying thought, she asked, “Was there a man?”

“No. The landlord assured me that on this particular evening the young lady had no ... customer.”

“But what about other evenings, Mr. Pearce? How can we know there were not other times, times when the boys were not caught?”

“I asked Tom specifically about that. He swore to me—and I believe him—that this was the first time he had ever done anything like this.”

“What did you do?”

“I took Will home and turned him over to his father. I intended to have a serious discussion with Tom, but knowing you hired me only to teach academics, I did not feel I had any right to speak until I had conferred with you.”

“He promised he would do nothing disgraceful,” she said. “Tenbury will be furious.”

“I was myself at first. But even the most solemn promises can at times be hard to keep, especially when the temptation is great.”

“There is that word ‘temptation’ again. For a man of the cloth, you seem very understanding of people who give in to it. I am more accustomed to the sentiments your brother espouses: flee temptation, repent, reform, adhere to the straight and narrow.”

“Anyone with a particle of sense knows it is difficult for boys to avoid mischief.”

“That may well be, Mr. Pearce. Unfortunately, recognizing that fact does little to ease the present situation. Tom made a promise to Tenbury and Tenbury is miles away. How do I confront Tom with this? How do I tell him not to spy on naked women?”

“If you wish, I will speak with him,” he offered. “I believe I know why he did it, and I know what to say. But he must understand, and I will tell him at the beginning, that I am speaking for you.”

“Please, do what you will, say what you will to him. I trust you to handle it in the best way possible. But tell me this, Mr. Pearce. What will I do when the day comes when Tenbury is not here, when you are not here, and Tom needs you? What then?”

“You could marry again. If Tom had a father, a worthy man to emulate, things might improve.”

“He has Tenbury. One would be hard pressed to find a better example for any boy.”

“Perhaps,” he conceded, “but he is Tom’s uncle, not his father. There is a bond between a father and son that is unique. Any other relationship is an imperfect substitute.”

Arelia rose and walked toward the fire, her back to Dennis. “I have considered remarrying. But since Henry died there has been only one man I have loved.”

“If you were to marry him,” Pearce suggested, “you would be able to share responsibility for Tom.”

“It is not so simple,” she said, turning to face him. “First of all, I am not certain he knows how I feel, and secondly, he has not asked me to marry him.”

“What manner of man is he?”

“He is a man of high principle. He lives his life without pretense. He is a trusted and unselfish friend, who puts the needs of others before his own.”

“Have you any hint as to why he has not spoken?”

She turned away again, unable to keep up the charade with his eyes so steadily upon her. “There could be several reasons,” she said. “He may simply not admire me, or he may prefer his life as it is. But I think it most likely that he disapproves of me and believes I would make a poor job of being a clergyman’s wife.”

An intense silence followed Arelia’s words. She waited in something approaching pain for him to speak. But he said nothing, nor did he move. Still with her back to him, she closed her eyes and concentrated on breathing evenly.

She had spoken too soon; she had been wrong about him; she had made a fool of herself. Well, it was not the first time. He could not forgive her dalliance with Wilmington; she did not blame him.

These thoughts lurched to a halt as she heard him move. Coming close behind her, he reached both arms around her shoulders and pulled her back against him. When she dropped her cheek to brush his hand, the scent of his warm skin sent a frisson of desire racing through her. He rested his face against her hair as he whispered, “I have loved you for months, but you seemed unattainable. I am nothing like the men you appear to admire. When you sought my company, I thought you were merely being kind.”

She turned within his arms, her doubts vanishing. All that showed in her face and her eyes was a love she had never expected to find again. “Dennis,” she whispered provocatively, “I have imagined a thousand times what it would be like to kiss you. How much longer do you intend to make me wait?”

After several minutes of satisfying her curiosity on that point, Dennis finally put her away from him. A moment later the door opened to admit Belinda who, hearing of her mother’s arrival, had hurried downstairs to greet her. Emerging from Belinda’s hug, Arelia met Dennis’s gaze.

“I will go now and speak with Tom,” he said. “Later we must find an opportunity to speak privately, for we have much to discuss.”