The Suitor List (17 page)

Augusta stood, stepped about, and resettled in the center of the boat. She picked up the oars and paddled away.
"I bid you farewell, Mr. Allendale, for I expect I shall not
see you again. I'll make sure to have Huxley inform your
valet that you'll need a dry change of clothes before he
packs your trunks to leave"

Muriel came upon her aunt, who at one moment sat
placidly, looking toward the pond, and the next moment sprang to her feet, quite agitated, and cried, "Oh, goodness !"

"What is it, Aunt?" Muriel ran to her side at once
when her normally unflappable aunt panicked.

"Moo, dear Moo-quickly now! You must summon
some footmen." Aunt Penny grasped her arm, urging
her niece back toward the house but kept glancing over
her shoulder. "Augusta and Mr. Allendale ... they were
rowing on the pond and there has been an accident. He
has fallen in!"

"An accident?" The alarm Muriel once felt subsided.
She gazed in the direction of the pond. Even without the
aid of her opera glass she could see a single person in the
rowboat, clearly Augusta, rowing toward the dock. "I'm
sure he is fine, Auntie, he's hardly splashing at all."

"He has fallen overboard! Now, go-at once. You
must send someone to rescue him."

"With Augusta there, I can see how he would need
someone to save him." Muriel headed toward the
house while Mrs. Parker moved in the direction of the
pond. Once inside, Muriel alerted a pair of footmen
to the emergency. They left immediately to aid Mr.
Allendale.

Muriel strolled down the corridor toward the Grand
Foyer. The house felt quiet with the majority of Augusta's
suitors gone. The departure of Mr. Allendale would
leave six.

The clink of china led her down the corridor and the
murmur of many voices drew her toward the Oriental
Parlor. Inside, Charlotte played hostess to Emily, Miss
Randolph, Miss Olivia and Mr. Lawrence Skeffington, Sir Samuel Pruitt, Lord Arthur Masters, Sir Benjamin
Pelfry, and Lord William Felgate.

"Muriel," Charlotte called out. "Would you like to
join us?"

"No, thank you, Charlotte." Muriel glanced at the lot
of them and decided she was never more happy not to
be included in their gathering. She backed from the
doorway and continued toward the Grand Foyer, but not
before she heard, from Sir Benjamin Pelfry, "Look
there, they provided a dish of lemon slices for my tea!"

"Sounds splendid!" came Lord William Felgate's reply. "I'd like to try that!"

Muriel hurried away down the long corridor, hoping
she could avoid overhearing any further citrus remarks.
She came upon the two orange trees with their paltry
offering of two oranges each. By tomorrow these trees
would be stripped of their fruit completely.

"We'll stay in Bloxwich for a few days until I can
arrange the marriage settlement with Miss Jessop's
father, then we'll make plans for the wedding." Lord
Marsdon, with his younger brother Sherwin by his
side, descended the staircase. Both were dressed to
travel.

Muriel thought it odd how a heavy feeling developed
inside her upon seeing him, knowing that he was to leave
Faraday Hall.

Mr. Lloyd noticed her once he reached the main
floor. He leaned toward his brother and spoke before
stepping toward her.

"Are you to leave, then?" Muriel could not very well
deny she had overheard Lord Marsdon's announcement.

"I was hoping our stay would last longer. Indeed," Mr.
Lloyd continued, "I had thought how very fortuitous it
would have been if our siblings were to marry. We could
have had many more discussions regarding the Romans
and the Greeks, and compared their various works of literature."

"So your brother is to wed Miss Eleanor Jessop, is
he?" Muriel could not imagine a more ill-suited young
lady to become a viscountess and future countess.
Muriel was saddened to see her new friend, if she could
call Mr. Lloyd that, leave.

The only others she could engage in a worthwhile discussion were her brother, Fredrick, when school was not
in session, and her father, who was far more busy recently
than he had ever been.

"I am very happy to have made your acquaintance,
Lady Muriel." A quaver in Mr. Lloyd's voice told her
he was just as saddened by his early departure. "I do
not know how long we'll stay in Bloxwich nor do I
know if I shall return home to Lloyd Manor before the
next term begins." He leaned close and whispered, "I
shall be very happy to receive your missives once I return to school. I pray that Headmaster Keate takes your
suggestion under serious consideration."

"Thank you, Mr. Lloyd." Muriel smiled. "I should,
very much, like to continue our dialogue."

"If there is a matter of which I can be of service,
please let me know" He flashed a shy, nervous smile. "Perhaps I will make the acquaintance of your brother."

"I shall write a letter of introduction," Muriel told
him. He accepted her hand when she held it out to him
and bowed.

"Sherwin," Lord Marsdon called out. "It's time to
leave"

"Perhaps we will have the good fortune to meet
again." It was clear young Mr. Lloyd felt self-conscious
when a flush crept up his neck and washed over his face.
He squinted a bit.

Muriel knew, without his glasses, he could not see
close up clearly. He stared, quite focused on Muriel, as
if committing her to memory. For they both knew it
would be a very long time, if ever, that they should
encounter one another.

Lord Marsdon handed Sherwin his hat, which he
seated upon his head of dark hair, and with a last look
and a nod, he and his brother left. Muriel did not follow
them or look out the window to watch their transport
pull away.

Moving down the corridor, her destination was the
Music Room. She paused next to the orange trees, halfexpecting their fruit to have disappeared while her back
had been turned.

Muriel jumped when the door to her father's library pulled open, and she staggered back when she
heard voices. Men's voices. Her father's and ... who
else's?

"I shall send word to Augusta, Lord Fieldstone, and
you shall have your chance to speak to her alone. I wish
you luck."

"Thank you, Your Grace"

Muriel dashed around the nearest doorway, hiding
from Lord Fieldstone as he exited.

Where was Augusta? Outside ... the pond ... but
surely not after "disposing" of Mr. Allendale. Muriel was quite sure she would find her sister in her bedchamber for some privacy to gain control of her temper.

But after what Muriel had just witnessed between
their father and Viscount Fieldstone, it would be worth
disturbing her sister.

Augusta would want to know.

Not two minutes after she had settled in her bedchamber, Augusta bade her youngest sister enter. Clearly,
Muriel wanted to know what had transpired on the pond
with Mr. Allendale. Not until Augusta set eyes upon her
sibling did she realize Muriel's agitation nearly matched
her own.

"What is it, Moo?"

Muriel was seemingly out of breath from rushing up
the stairs. Or perhaps her condition was due to the significance of the news itself.

"Viscount Fieldstone has spoken to Father," she
blurted out.

They both knew what a private audience meant.

"How do you know this?" Augusta did not wish to rely
upon any type of hearsay, from servants or otherwise.

"I saw Lord Fieldstone emerge from father's library
with my own eyes just a few minutes ago" Muriel raised
her right hand as if to swear what she had witnessed was
the entire truth.

Augusta's knees felt as if they would not hold her upright. She reached out for the edge of her dressing table
and eased herself onto the chair.

The Viscount had received permission to pay his address to Augusta. But he couldn't possibly ... Augusta
was simply not ready to make a decision.

Lydia entered and handed a slip of paper to Augusta,
which she read immediately.

Gusta,

Lord Fieldstone wishes to speak to you. Please
meet him in the Citrus Parlor at 3 P.M.

Papa

Augusta took a quick glance at the clock on her bedside table-ten minutes. She swallowed, drew in a slow
breath, and held the note out to her sister.

"So it's true!" Muriel gasped. "Gusta, what are you
going to do?"

"What else can I do?" Augusta gazed once more into
her mirror at her reflection. "I must ready myself to see
Lord Fieldstone in the Citrus Parlor."

Some five or so minutes later-because she did not
wish to arrive late-Augusta entered the Citrus Parlor. It
was a room named for its numerous lemon, orange, lime,
and grapefruit depictions. Trees and orchards of various colors-yellow, orange, and green-decorated the
walls and the furniture upholstery and trailed across
the ceiling.

Augusta sat, perching on the edge of the green-leaf
patterned sofa, and arranged her skirt on the seat. Then she stood and paced to the window. Then she returned
to the sofa, resettling her skirts, and tried to calm herself by counting the fruit on the wall.

She couldn't sit; she couldn't count. Augusta once
again began to pace. She turned to walk back across
the room toward the open door.

Lord Fieldstone was about to propose marriage. She
was to be Viscount Fieldstone's ... wife. Did the thought
please her? Make her feel anxious? Terrified?

"Richard!" she cried out when she caught sight of
him passing by the open door.

He halted and doubled back to her. "Gusta? What are
you doing in there?"

"Please, don't leave," Augusta pleaded, nearly begging him. She probably would have if he had refused.
"Stay with me. I'm waiting for ... He's to arrive any
moment now. I-"

"Who?" Richard stepped into the room, closer to her.

"Lord Fieldstone ... he's already spoken with Father."
What did she expect Richard to do? Hold her hand? Tell
her she and the Viscount would make a perfect match?
Did she even wish to hear those words from him?

Perhaps she wanted her good friend to promise that
she would find as much contentment with her viscount
as he had found with his fiancee, Miss Skeffington.

"He-" Richard stilled, and she'd never seen him
look this serious. "Viscount Fieldstone, is it?"

Richard's presence had a calming effect on Augusta,
and she was gratified he chose, of his own accord, to remain with her.

"I must wish you happy, then. If he is your choice,
that is. He is a most fortunate man"

"Is he?" Her voice sounded weak even to her.

"Indeed he is." Although Richard's words were polite, Augusta could not believe he meant them.

"I'm not so sure" She confided in him-her longtime neighbor and childhood friend. "Could I marry
someone who does not laugh?" Coaxing a smile from
him on a daily basis would be a chore.

"From what I hear, you would need to tolerate his
lack of humor."

Augusta stared at Richard, waiting for another comment, some wise words that might help her make the
important decision regarding Lord Fieldstone's offer.

At that moment she did not see Richard as her friend
and confidant. She studied his ruffled, light brown hair
and his green eyes. He had always been there for her,
when she was afraid or when she had gotten hurt.
Augusta had never realized she relied on him so.

Only since she'd seen him in London had she realized just how handsome he was, how very-

What was happening to her? She had no idea why
these strange thoughts were coming to her-especially
now with an offer of marriage imminent.

"Take my hand," she whispered, sounding desperate.
Augusta needed some stability. He reached out to her and
she snapped, "No, don't touch me" She feared she might
do something, say something rash in her confusion.

"I was just thinking back to when we were seven years
old. Remember when we chased one another around the
gardens, outrunning our siblings? Who would have ever
believed .. " He paused, looking thoughtful and sounding a bit sentimental. "Look at us now. Both adults, both betrothed" Richard nodded his head, acknowledging her
unrealized position. "Well, you very nearly so"

"It is almost beyond comprehension." She turned and
wrung her hands together.

"Sometimes I wish the situation were different... "
He gazed into her eyes; his smile faded. Augusta saw
what she thought was regret cross his face, but only for
a moment. "If our circumstances were- That is of little
consequence" He cleared his throat. "What will you
answer when Lord Fieldstone makes his offer?"

"I do not know." And she didn't. Augusta felt strangely
numb. She would hear her reply when she answered the
Viscount.

"Then I shall not be so hasty to congratulate him,"
Richard replied. "We shall see what becomes of Lord
Fieldstone."

"Exactly," she agreed. "It would be most prudent to
wait for the outcome."

Richard stepped closer and made to reach out with
his hand to her again, only this time she did not cry out.
"Gusta, I do wish-" His eyes and his voice softened.