Sari Robins - [Andersen Hall Orphanage] (22 page)

“Yes, well, you know my friends, Lady Blankett, Lady Genevieve—”

“Yes, yes.” Lady Pomfry waved her hand. “We’re all acquainted.”

“Good.” Prescott extricated himself from her arm
and moved to step beside Edwina. “Then you also know that Lady Ross is my betrothed.”

Edwina wanted to sing, but instead pasted a cool look of disdain on her face. She knew he was doing it for the ruse, but still, it was as cold a shoulder as he could give his former paramour.

Snapping open her fan, Lady Pomfry waved it about her face as her hand trailed her exposed shoulder, reminding Edwina of one of Fanny’s maneuvers. “I can hardly believe…”

“Believe it.” Prescott’s tone was cool. “For it’s true.”

Lady Pomfry’s eyes flashed blue fire. “A man makes mistakes, and upon realizing them, if he begs forgiveness, he may be welcomed back—”

“Daphne,” Prescott warned.

“It’s inconceivable that you’d choose this ugly, beak-nosed—”

“Didn’t you feel the door slam on your derriere?” Janelle snapped. “The man sent you packing. Have the good grace to know when you’re no longer wanted.”

Lady Pomfry’s eyes widened and then narrowed. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised by your bitterness…” Stabbing her fan in Janelle’s direction, she turned up her nose. “I’m sure the loss of your husband’s affections must be very hard on you…”

Janelle’s face drained of color.

“And if my son was such a public disgrace, a slobbering drunkard who—Ahh!” Lady Pomfry’s gauzy ivory dress was suddenly coated in burgundy liquid.

Edwina looked down to find her wineglass empty. Discovering an ogre inside her glass wouldn’t have shocked her more.

Lady Pomfry was shaking with fury, her mouth opening, then closing and then opening again, like a bug’s.

The room fell silent, only broken by Lady Pomfry’s gasping. Her breasts heaved and her eyes flashed with hatred.

“Bitch.” Lady Pomfry tossed her entire glass at Edwina.

Prescott caught the glass, miraculously, but not before it splattered both of them with claret.

“I think you’ve caused enough trouble for one night, young lady.” Sir Lee grabbed Lady Pomfry’s arm. She struggled to pull away, but his grip was too tight. “Enough!”

“You’re hurting me!” she hissed.

“It’s time for you to retire to your rooms.” Sir Lee’s tone was hard.

“I’ll go when I’m damn well ready and no sooner!”

“You’ll go now,” came a voice from near the door. Lady Kendrick’s lower lip quivered and her eyes were bright. “I think we’ve had enough of your brand of entertainment, Lady Pomfry. I believe I’m ready for some of mine.”

Edwina’s heart twisted with guilt over her contribution to this debacle; their hostess had worked too hard to see her party crumble in a social mêlée.

Lord Kendrick moved to stand by his wife, for once calm as he offered his arm. “If you would lead the way, darling. I, for one, am ready for dinner.” They turned and left the room, arm in arm, heads held high.

Lady Pomfry eyed the remaining guests as a cornered fox eyes the hounds. She lifted a shoulder, pretending
to be
comme il faut.
“I’ve always said that country life is boring. I was just trying to liven things up.”

Slowly, each member of the party drifted to follow Lord and Lady Kendrick, leaving only Lady Pomfry standing in a pool of candlelight, alone with her stained tiffany silk and her bitterness.

L
ater that evening, Prescott and Edwina stood next to an ivory column in the candlelit conservatory. By mutual consent they’d lingered with the other guests and not slipped out to search Lord Unterberg’s rooms as originally planned. Their efforts to unmask the blackmailer were put aside, for the moment, as they tried not to draw more attention to themselves and to be the kind of guests that Lady Kendrick deserved.

All of the other guests had apparently felt the same, as they relaxed on or around the spindly Chippendale furniture near the French doors leading into the house. Janelle and Ginny stood with Sir Lee nearby, next to a lovely fountain with a statute of Gaia, Mother Earth, pouring water from a stone pitcher.

Sir Lee had been particularly attentive to Janelle since the incident with Lady Pomfry, and Prescott made a mental note to thank the man for it later. Sir
Lee seemed to be a good sort and a natural addition to their small circle.

The air was warm and heavily scented with the wild strawberries hanging in baskets around the conservatory.

With her eyes fixed on Lord Kendrick as he carried a cup of tea to his wife, Edwina murmured, “For all of his fluttering about and worrying over trifles, when it comes to the important things, he’s very solid.” Her brow furrowed and her dark gaze seemed sad.

Prescott stepped closer and rested a hand on her shoulder. “And this upsets you?”

She shook her head, looking down. “It makes me happy and yet sad all at once. I don’t know why.”

“Being dependable is important to you, isn’t it, Edwina?”

Edwina let out a little breath. “It’s the bedrock of every relationship. Take my mother and father, for example. For all of my father’s indiscretions, bellowing bouts, and domineering tendencies, if my mother needs anything truly important, he’s there for her.”

“Was your husband reliable?” Prescott couldn’t help but ask, an annoying trickle of jealousy snaking around his heart.

She stared off in the distance a long moment. “Yes. I do believe that he was.”

Prescott reminded himself that the man was long dead, and that he was the one keeping Edwina warm at night. “How, ah, did your husband die, Edwina? If you don’t mind my asking.”

“He fell from a rooftop while instructing one of his tenants on the correct way to perform a repair. His in
juries were extensive, and though he hung on for a time, he didn’t survive.”

Prescott’s lips dipped. “I’m sorry, Edwina.”

She tilted her head in acknowledgment.

“I must say,” he felt the need to add, “I’m impressed. Most aristocrats wouldn’t deign to assist with such a menial chore.”

“Oh, Sir Geoffrey wasn’t doing the work, he was directing it.”

“Still, for him to take such an interest…”

Watching the guests’ coming and goings, she waved a hand. “Sir Geoffrey took interest in an inordinate number of things.”

“Like what?”

Facing him, her brow furrowed. “You really wish to know?”

“Actually, I do.”

“Very well. He taught me the proper way to instruct servants, since there is a very specific manner to handle certain household duties. How to gut a pig, to clean a floor, to polish silver, the suitable way a woman should wear her hair—”

Prescott blinked, thinking of the tight chignon Edwina was wearing the first day he’d met her. “He told you how to wear your hair? Something so personal to you?”

“Well, ah, he liked it pulled back.” Her lips pursed. “I suppose because that’s how his mother wore it.”

“Did he direct anything else pertaining to your person?”

“To my person…ah, well, the proper way to clean my teeth and, oh, yes, how to bathe—”

Prescott straightened. “Proper way? There is no ‘proper way’ to take a bath.”

Sipping her port, Edwina’s shoulder lifted in a shrug. “To Sir Geoffrey there was.”

“And you put up with this…this…dictatorship? Even Mrs. Nagel never directed me in such an officious manner.”

Edwina’s eyes didn’t meet his. “It doesn’t matter. Why are we even discussing this?” Her cheeks were flushed pink and he could tell that she was discomfited, but he wanted to know, nay, he
needed
to understand who her husband had been and how he’d influenced the woman Edwina was today.

“What would your former husband think of your current coiffure?”

Her hand lifted to her hair. “Sir Geoffrey think of my coiffure?”

“And why do you refer to him as Sir Geoffrey? He was your husband for heaven’s sake!”

“Lower your voice, Prescott,” she chided. “Heads are turning.”

He crossed his arms, leaning toward her and whispering, “No wonder you were so upset that you didn’t have the ‘proper’ attire the other night, or always worry that you’re doing something the ‘wrong’ way. I’ll bet your mother-in-law was even worse than her overbearing son. I’ll warrant they used to go at you, two on one, with the very
proper
manner to do this or that.”

Her cheeks reddened and from the look on her face, he could tell he’d struck a nerve.

“They did, didn’t they?” he demanded. “Directing you, correcting you, chastising you. They probably had
you hopping about so that you hardly knew which way to turn.”

“All right, Prescott, I understand your point. They weren’t as agreeable as they could have been and I wasn’t as self-possessed as I should have been.”

“Self-possessed? You were a fresh young lady of barely seventeen hoping to be accepted into the bosom of your new family. Of course you would try to please them.”

Looking away, she straightened. “I know I should’ve stood up for myself more often, but to be frank, when I did bother to, it was most…unpleasant, and not exactly worth the tension it caused. So it was easier simply to do it their way. Like referring to my husband by his title. He preferred it and it didn’t matter much to me.” But by the irked look in her eye, obviously it
had
mattered.

“Oh, Edwina.” He grasped her hand. “No wonder you don’t wish ever to marry again. For you, it’s the equivalent of purgatory.”

She looked up, her brow furrowed and her mouth open as if she was going to argue, then she shook her head, her eyes wide with wonder. “I never…never considered the connection. I just knew I never, ever wanted to feel that way again.”

“And why should you? A strong spirit like yours shouldn’t be oppressed with such trifles. You have much better things to do with your amazing energy, more important considerations on your mind. In twenty years will anyone care that you put both stockings on before either shoe? Or is it a stocking, then a shoe and then your attention shifts to the opposite foot?”

“You’re right. It really doesn’t matter.” Exhaling as if relieved, she stared up at the night sky. “It’s astonishing to me that I didn’t see the connection. To me, marriage means submitting myself to someone else’s dictates for the rest of my life. It’s really, quite…liberating to understand why I’ve felt so strongly about not wanting to marry. I mean,
feel
about it. I don’t wish to marry. Ever.”

“You said that already,” he bit out, irritated and not knowing why.

“I know, I just…” She beamed. “This is really quite amazing.” Then her brow furrowed. “But this still won’t make a lick of difference to my father.”

“Our engagement is going to end his matchmaking days, though, Edwina. Isn’t that the plan?”

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean that we won’t have a stunningly awful row over it.” She frowned. “I just wish…”

“What?”

“I just wish that I knew how to handle things better. Like before, with Lady Pomfry…”

Guilt washed over him. “That wasn’t your fault, Edwina. Daphne isn’t half the woman you are.”

She raised a brow. “Yet somehow you chose to be with her, without the benefit of a blatant lie.”

He felt like kicking himself, the fool that he’d been to have resisted Edwina so. But he hadn’t known her. Hadn’t known how wonderful and sensual and exciting she truly was. But arguing the point would get him nowhere. She wanted to talk about Daphne. The same way he’d wanted to talk about Sir Geoffrey. Fair was fair, even if he didn’t like it.

He exhaled, looking away. “I had no idea she could be so…ugly. I mean, she wasn’t like that when I was
with her.” But he’d known. He’d always had the sense that she was the kind of woman who turned on people. Not caring if she attacked him, Prescott had selfishly never worried about anyone else she’d go after. Sleep with a viper and eventually someone close to you will get bitten. And Prescott
did
mind that.

Edwina tilted her head. “What was she like? When you were with her, I mean.”

He shrugged. “Amusing. Good fun. There wasn’t a whole lot more to it than that.” Prescott realized that there hadn’t been much more to any of his encounters. Until now.

“Is that why you became a
cicisbeo
? For the fun of it?”

“Yes, and because, well, it was easy.”

“Easy?”

Exhaling, he ran his hand through his hair, awkward talking about that chapter of his life, which he so desperately wanted to close. “Six or so years ago a young widow came to Andersen Hall to meet with Headmaster Dunn about becoming a patron. She’d heard good things about the orphanage and wanted to learn more.” He shrugged. “At the time I was living with a friend in town and trying to scratch up a living. I’d come back to visit with Cat and ran into the lady.”

“So you were about twenty-one years of age?”

“Yes. Well, the lady was impressed with my elocution and manners and, to be frank, was lonely—”

“So she bought your clothing, set you up and in return expected…?”

“She didn’t want anything more than some companionship, a listening ear, an arm to hold on to at balls and the like. It was perfectly innocent.”

“Perfectly innocent? You’re stunning, Prescott. I can’t quite believe that she didn’t want—”

“Thank you for the compliment, Edwina. But no, she didn’t.” He shook his head, remembering. “She was a good woman who’d married an older cousin hoping to sire an heir and keep the property in the family. She’d miscarried several times, and when her husband died without issue, she blamed herself. She wanted an undemanding companion, nothing more.”

He tilted his head. “She had a tight circle of friends who soon came to call on me as an escort as well. I sort of fell into it and after a while, it just seemed to be one long ride that I had trouble getting off.”

“Until Headmaster Dunn’s death.”

“Yes.”

“And Lady Pomfry? Was it all innocent with her?”

Prescott pursed his lips, knowing that this answer was very important to Edwina and he didn’t want to make a mess of it. He exhaled. “No.”

Her face tightened. “I suppose I can understand. She’s a beautiful woman, on the outside, at least.”

“Not half as beautiful as you—”

“Please stop.”

“But—”

“Enough, Prescott.” She held up her hand. “I know my nose is large. It is what it is, I cannot change that. I’m not upset about what she said. Well, not much, anyway.”

“Then what’s bothering you?”

“Mostly, that people can be so awful to each other.” Unwinding her arms, her hand clenched and unclenched at her side. “That I’m capable of such spite.”

“Lady Pomfry is the spiteful one—”

“I tossed a glass of claret on her dress, Prescott. For shame.”

“You didn’t plan it. She was abusing Janelle. You can hardly blame yourself.”

She shook her head. “There are better ways to deal with nastiness than sinking so low as to assault someone.”

“But it was very effective, you’ll have to admit,” he tried to joke.

“No it wasn’t.” Her tone was serious; she didn’t want to be amused, she wanted to be heard.

He sobered. “You’re right, but—”

“My conduct escalated the entire affair. She tossed a glass at me. Someone could have really been hurt.”

“It’s not your fault she threw it.”

“I should have stopped the confrontation, not worsened it.”

Reaching down, he grasped her hand, unfurling her tight fingers.

Looking to ensure that none of the guests were paying them any mind, he pulled Edwina into a shadowed pocket deeper into the conservatory and then behind a pair of huge buddleia bushes. “It’s admirable that you are taking this matter to heart. But you’re being very hard on yourself, Edwina. You’ve already apologized to Lord and Lady Kendrick and they hardly blamed you. How can you blame yourself?”’

“Don’t patronize me, Prescott. I’m trying to learn from my mistakes, not placate my guilt. If I am to deal with the Lady Pomfrys of this world, I had better figure out a better way to handle myself.”

“The Lady Pomfrys?”

She shrugged, looking away. “The women you’ve bedded.”

“Oh.” Prescott ran his hand through his hair, not wanting to touch that one with a fifty-foot pole. Still, Edwina had a point. He lifted a shoulder, uncomfortable. “In all my time out and about in Society, it rarely ended in such a way that a lady should give you a difficult time.”

“I know.”

He looked up. “You know?”

“I studied you, remember? I spoke to some of your lady friends under the guise that I was considering an escort to an event.”

“And…?”

“And most spoke highly of you. The biggest complaint was that you were too independent. ‘Yank on his strings and he walks’ one lady had said.”

“Ah, that must have been Lady Tyler. She was always razor-sharp.”

“But it’s not just those ladies, but all difficult people that I’m concerned with, Prescott. You understood Janelle when I was oblivious. I was ready to kick her out of the society. For shame.” Her lovely face was troubled. “I want to do better. I need to do better and not always leave a confrontation feeling like I’ve failed. Can you help me?”