The Portrait (12 page)

They traveled some miles in silence before, unable to stand
the discord any longer, she forsook her seat to sit at Sinclair's
side. He turned his head briefly, giving but a slight smile in
recognition before continuing his contemplation of the passing scenery. His dark brows were drawn into a heavy frown,
and his face appeared pale in the morning light, and her heart
went out to him.

Hesitantly she slipped her hand into his elbow in an attempt
to gain his attention, but he resisted the temptation to turn toward her.

Unwilling to let the matter rest, she said in a small voice,
"We've never spoken of your injuries, Ned."

"Nor shall we. There's no need," he replied in a harsh
voice. "My disfigurement is plain for all to see. It will not improve with discussion."

"You wrong me if you think I see it as a disfigurement," she
said earnestly, tightening her hold on his arm. "I see not the
injury but the man. You've no wish for pity, and I do not offer
it. You are as strong and vital as you ever were, and that is how
you are perceived. You are no object for sympathy."

He gave no answer, but she saw that the tension about his
lips relaxed slightly and the thunder seeped from his brow.
Eventually he turned toward her. "You must forgive me, Jenny,"
he said softly, taking her hand. "I've so long feared what would
be the reaction to the ravages wreaked on my frame. I am no
longer the man you once thought me, and it's abhorrent to me to
evoke either fear or pity."

"I don't see you as a candidate for either," she said, her fingers tightening on his. "Indeed, you are no less a man than you
ever were. The loss of your arm is nothing to me; I see only
your goodness and vigor and-"

Suddenly the coachman rapped on the roof. "We are nearing
Ashbourne, sir," he announced as the earl opened the hatch.

"Then we will make a stop before continuing to Buxton,"
replied Sinclair, thankful for a diversion from the intensity of
their conversation. He found it a conversation hard to pursue,
deciding it would serve no purpose to examine their separate emotions too closely. Aware that his own lay too near the surface, he feared that in an unguarded moment he would find
them too difficult to suppress.

Returning his attention to his companion, he said, "As soon
as we arrive at the inn, I will arrange for a bedchamber to be
put at your disposal."

"You still wish me to change?" said Jenny, her chin firming.

The earl grinned ruefully, his eyes lighting with amusement. "As delighted as I've been to see you in schoolboy garb,
my dear, for the sake of your reputation I do believe it is necessary for your metamorphosis into a young lady once more"

"Must I, Ned? Is it really necessary?"

"Imperative, Jen. Your entry into Buxton will be as a young
lady of quality."

In answer she once more removed herself to the seat opposite, folding her arms defiantly across her chest.

"Why the long face?" queried the earl. "Freddie is within
your reach, and all will be put to rights."

"It means the end of our adventure, Ned."

"'Adventure'? Is that what you would call it?" He laughed.
"You will find it less of an adventure when we are forced to
face the comments upon our return"

"I'd quite forgotten about that," she said, sitting upright in
her seat. "Do you think it will be very bad?"

"Undoubtedly," was his only reply.

Once installed in a bedchamber at the posting inn, Jennifer
cast aside her jacket and breeches and lifted the pale blue
dimity dress from the bed. At any other time she would have
been quite happy to wear it, deeming it most suitable as a
day dress to be worn in the country. However, today it found
no favor with her, and it was with a reluctant sigh that she
stepped into it and arranged a white lace fichu about her
shoulders.

Taking a hand mirror from the cloak bag, she attempted to
brush her shorn curls into a more feminine style, which only
served to make her look even more elfin. She had not thought
of the consequences when she'd taken the scissors and cut her
beautiful dark locks so short; it had not occurred to her that she
would appear most strange when going about in society. However, now that she was not obliged to brush those locks severely back from her brow to fit her boyish role, she could see
that the style became her, and she smiled at the thought of
what the tabbies would say of it.

"Now we will see what you make of me, Edward Thurston," she whispered to her reflection before placing the mirror once
more into the bag.

"There, do I now have your approval?" she asked, stepping
into the inn's wainscoted private parlor and executing a neat
little curtsy before the earl.

Sinclair rose from a chair by the hearth and made a profound
leg. "Lady Jennifer-Jenny." He smiled, coming forward. "It
would now seem that I must treat you with the respect due your
station." Taking the hand she proffered in salute, he raised it
dutifully to his lips. "My dear, the transformation is complete.
You look enchanting, though how we will explain the shortness of your hair, I know not"

"Do I look a fright?" she asked anxiously, her hand going
automatically to her curls.

"Not at all, Jen." He chuckled. "A little unconventional, but
a delight, I assure you. Within a week you will have society
paying homage and emulating your daring new look. I will lay
odds on it."

"Does it find favor with you, Ned?" she asked, watching his
reaction from beneath lowered lashes.

Smiling, he tweaked her curls. "Have I not said so? But I
will not feed your vanity. It's not, after all, with me that you
need find favor but with the many beaux who prostrate themselves at your feet"

This was not at all the reply she'd been looking for, and it
drove her to retort haughtily, "I wish I could reply in kind, Edward, but you seem to show not the slightest interest in attaching any young lady's affections."

"I've no time for petticoats," he mocked, retreating to the
settle once more. "I am quite content with my lot."

"You, sir, are a misogynist," she snapped, stamping her foot.

"There you have the wrong of it, Jenny." He laughed. "Quite
the wrong of it."

Congratulating himself on his perception of the matter, the
coachman gave a knowing smile and winked meaningfully at the postillion as he assisted his passengers into the waiting
equipage.

As he took up the reins to commence the final few miles to
Buxton, he thought of the tale with which he would regale his
wife upon his return, for he had suspected the young sir of being a girl-and a very pretty one to boot. However, he saw
that the miss seemed less than pleased when she emerged
from the inn, and he diagnosed a lovers' tiff. He noted that the
gentleman appeared somewhat amused by the whole, and he
predicted the gent's downfall, finding nothing loverlike whatsoever in his manner. A very strange matter indeed.

The coach rolled out of the inn's yard at a spanking pace.
The newly hired team was fresh, and the two travelers knew
that their journey would soon be at an end.

Jennifer, retaining her air of resentment, sat erect in the
forward-facing corner of the coach, while the earl sat at his
ease on the opposite seat. Silence reigned for the first mile or
so, a silence that begged to be broken.

As his companion appeared disinclined to set up a dialogue, Sinclair made an attempt at polite conversation. "Is this
your first visit to Derbyshire, Jenny?" he asked.

"No," came her short reply, as she refused to be drawn into
conversation.

"Then as it is mine, perhaps you would be so obliging as to
point out any places you deem of interest."

"There are none"

"The views are quite remarkable," he persisted, attempting
to hide a grin, but the light in his eyes betrayed him.

"I would prefer it if you did not speak to me, Edward
Thurston," said Jennifer in an indifferent voice. "For when
you do, it is merely to mock me"

"Behold, a penitent man," he teased, hanging his head. "If
in some inadvertent way I have offended my lady, I offer her
my profound apologies."

She laughed in response. "No, you don't. You know you
don't."

"Perhaps not," he replied, grinning boyishly. "But dare I
mention that it brought about the desired results? You no longer
scowl at me. Possibly now would be a good time for you to inform me about the hapless individual upon whom we are
about to descend. You've said very little on the subject. I take
it to be a school friend of Freddie's?"

"Dear me, no. Have I not explained?" she said. "How remiss of me. 'Tis Mrs. Rutledge, a friend of my mother's who
lives just on the other side of Buxton with her son, Phillip.
She is a widow, and Freddie and I went to stay with her when
Mother died. We were made so welcome that, had it not
been for Arthur's insistence that we return to London, we
would have happily remained there. Freddie and Phillip became firm friends and have remained so. As no other destination presented itself, I naturally assumed Freddie to have
fled there"

"And if he has not?"

"I know of no alternative. If he isn't to be found there, I'm
at a loss as to where else to look." On a sudden thought she
turned anxiously toward Sinclair. "You don't think he could
have run away to sea do you, Ned?"

"I think it highly unlikely. If it were Perry, then it could
well be a possibility, but Freddie lacks his impetuosity and
possesses a more sensible turn of mind. I agree that Buxton
seems the more probable choice. We shall soon know."

Derbyshire's glorious vista spread before them as they drove
through Dovedale Valley and the adjoining countryside. Both in
their own way regretting that the end of the journey was in
sight, they each sat lost in reverie. Occasionally Jenny cast a
glance at her companion, but his averted countenance told her
nothing, as he appeared absorbed in their surroundings.

Eventually they descended into Buxton, and as they drove
through the modest town, she pointed to a large house situated
on the rise that overlooked its cobbled streets.

"Berry House," she said, as he came to sit beside her. "That
is where Mrs. Rutledge-Judith-lives"

He gave it but a cursory glance before turning to face her
fully. "I've been thinking," he said, "about our return to London...."

She grimaced dolefully. "So have I, and I don't see how it
can be achieved without causing comment"

"Then I'm sure you'll see the sense of what I'm about to
suggest "

She looked at him hopefully. "Can you see a way around it,
Ned? For I'm sure I cannot."

"We will leave Buxton separately. I will return to London
while you and Freddie go to my sister's house and explain all
to her. I am sure Flora will need little encouragement to state
that the two of you have been on a visit to her the whole time.
She likes nothing more than the role of conspirator. I will
send Perry to you, and he can add credence to your story. I
will attempt to allay rumors in London. If it's seen that I return alone, I can say that I've been on an expedition to the
races. None will dare query it in my presence. Some may
have their suspicions, but none can provide proof that we've
been within fifty miles of each other."

"Do you think it will serve?" she asked doubtfully. "Are
you sure Flora will go along with the ploy?"

"I think I can safely put your mind at rest on that score. I
know my sister well enough to guess at her reaction. She will
see it as a very romantic escapade and read all manner of
hopes for our future into it."

"Then I will certainly put her right on that score, Ned.
Though if I do, she might be reluctant to help us"

"Not Flora. She is ever hopeful of a reconciliation between us"

"What a severe trial we must be to her." Jenny chuckled.
"She seems forever destined for disappointment."

The earl dropped his gaze, studying the toe of his boot. "I
hate to mention it, Jen, but what of Hawley?"

"Oh, Lord, I'd forgotten about him," she groaned, raising a
hand to her brow. "How am Ito face him? When we set out on
the journey, I gave no thought to the fact that I would have to return. Indeed, the consequences of my actions were the furthest thing from my mind. I saw only the need to find Freddie."

"Perhaps it would be appropriate for me to pay him a visit,"
said Sinclair, patting her hand as it rested in her lap. "I will
explain all to him, and I'm sure he'll see the sense of our
arrangements."

"He won't believe our story. Even though it is the truth"

"Do you think that he should also be told that you and Freddie have been visiting Flora? Will he believe that?"

"If that were the case, why would I have felt the need to
abscond in the middle of the night and not make proper
arrangements? No, I don't think he'll believe it."

"You don't make life easy, do you, my dear?" He chuckled,
squeezing her hand. "Then it may become necessary for me to
tell him all, and you must be prepared for his reaction. I will
do what I can to defuse the situation."