A Grand Deception (21 page)

"What say we pull over and take a stroll?" Freddie suggested.

"I suppose that would be all right." Susan turned to the
left. "Moo? Sir Samuel?"

"Why not?" Muriel replied without really caring. As long
as she wasn't left alone with Sir Samuel. She felt horrible
that she had such thoughts about her friend.

"Sounds splendid!" Sir Samuel exclaimed, rather a bit too
brightly.

The carriage pulled out of the queue, coming to a halt just
to the side. Freddie disembarked first, followed by Sir Samuel. It seemed to Muriel that the gentlemen took an extraordinarily long amount of time dawdling and glancing about
before turning back to the coach. Freddie took hold of Mu riel's, then Susan's, hands, helping the ladies step to the
ground.

"Lady Muriel." Sir Samuel did not waste a second and
offered his arm to escort her.

"Thank you, Sir Samuel." What else could she say? A
part of her felt hesitant about walking alone with him, even
though her brother and her friend were only a few feet behind them.

"Miss Wilbanks"-Freddie then followed by example"I would be honored."

Off to the left, the string of carriages out for a drive
stretched far beyond where Muriel could see. She and Sir
Samuel bid oncoming pairs of strollers a good day with
slow nods of their heads while they passed.

Sir Samuel seemed to fidget so. He stretched the fingers
of both hands and repeatedly tugged at his gloves in such a
manner that Muriel thought he should quite ruin them. He
repeatedly cleared his throat, as if he was about to say something, but he remained silent.

Never had Muriel been so grateful for her bonnet. If she
kept facing straight ahead, she would not meet Sir Samuel's
gaze. So keen was her discomfort, she thought he must
have sensed it through her gloved hand resting upon his.

The mood between them felt very odd, whereas before
they had had no difficulty when they spoke, and conversation came without effort. It seemed now neither of them had
anything to say, and the silence stretched on.

How unfortunate this was. Muriel had always held Sir
Samuel in the highest regard. Why, oh why, did he harbor
more affection for her than she for him? It ruined all manner
of ease between them.

"I had meant to ask you about your impression of my
cousin." Muriel wondered, if only just slightly, how far Constance had proceeded with her plan of snaring Sir Samuel. And could he have any knowledge of it?

"Miss Kimball?" There was an unmistakable lightening
of his tone at the mention of her name, if only slight. "Oh, yes.
We have had several conversations. I find her very agreeable,
and there is more than a passing resemblance between the
two of you. Your mothers were sisters, were they not?"

"Yes, that's correct." Muriel wasn't sure if his reply was a
compliment or not.

"Both celebrated beauties in their day, I hear. Lady Kimball is still a handsome woman, as is Mrs. Parker." Sir Samuel seemed to consider his words. "I do wish I had met your
mother. They say she was the most beautiful of the three."

"Have you not seen her portrait at Faraday Hall?"

"Yes, but your sisters tell me it does not do Her Grace
justice."

Muriel could not say. All she had was the portrait. She
barely remembered her mother at all.

"Returning to the topic of Miss Kimball, I need to tell
you that I have had the pleasure of standing up with her on
more than one occasion." Sir Samuel suddenly became quite
animated now that they began to converse about Constance.
"She is a very fine dancer. I do not know if I have ever seen
anyone more graceful upon the dance floor, and her form
is-" He quickened his pace down the path, and Muriel had
some difficulty keeping up with him.

"Please, Sir Samuel-you walk too fast."

"I beg your pardon." Slowing to their previous tempo, Sir
Samuel, with some degree of agitation, continued. "I should
not be discussing such matters with you. It is indelicate."

Muriel turned her head in such a way as to observe him.
His cheeks had reddened, and he took a moment to straighten,
regaining his composure.

"Suffice it to say, we rub along fairly well together, and
tomorrow I have the privilege of taking her out for a drive."

His news of courting came as a surprise to Muriel this
time.

"Even though I had not made plans for this afternoon, it
happened that an outing was bespoken for me." Now his
gaze met hers in the most implicating manner. "Not that I
mind in the least."

It was time for Muriel's face to flush. She had to own, she
had taken liberties with their friendship. She had treated him
as if he were her own kin-worse than that. She had regarded
him as no more than a servant, ordering him about, sending
him on any task she pleased.

"I suppose you might well be vexed with me." Muriel
thought he had every right to be.

"Never fear. You did not compel me to dance with her"

No, she hadn't.

"Nor did you coerce me into any other action."

Muriel had to stare at him again. What did he mean?

"Miss Kimball is ... how shall I put it? ... insistent
when it comes to making her mind known." The exhale
from Sir Samuel seemed to relieve some pressure he appeared to be experiencing, but soon his manner grew tense
once more. "I find I cannot deny her. She is, after all, family,
your cousin."

Muriel and Sir Samuel drew ahead, and they could speak
in a voice not to be overheard by Susan and Freddie. It was
something she had dreaded.

"I must confide in you, Lady Muriel," Sir Samuel began.

Oh, dear, must he? She took in a small breath, unsure if
it would be possible to exhale.

"I came to Town in the hopes I might find that certain
young lady every gentleman seeks." He paused, and Sir Samuel could have been looking at her for reassurance, but
the brim of Muriel's hat shielded her eyes. "This has come
upon me quite suddenly. I had no notion of the change in my
regard for this certain young lady until recently. No one was
more surprised than I to discover that I possessed affection
for one with whom I have had a standing acquaintance."

This was what she had dreaded. With every phrase, Sir
Samuel might be speaking of her. Muriel did not wish to let
on that she knew of his newfound admiration. "Really, you
have finally found her?" She had to say something. "How
lucky for you! Is it a match, then? May I wish you happy?"

"I do not expect she is aware of my feelings, although we
have spent a great deal of time in each other's company, and
I have come to realize how much I have grown to care for
her." He cleared his throat. "I suppose since we are not acquaintances but friends, I am unsure how to proceed. I would
not wish to ruin the companionship we already share...."

"That is sound thinking, if you ask me." Muriel did not
wish him to continue, and the sooner she parted company
with him, the better. Even if the unpleasant alternative necessitated that she walk with her brother, whom she presently
held out of favor. "I shall give this matter some thought.
Would you mind walking with Susan for a bit, Sir Samuel?
I'd like a word with Freddie." Muriel turned her attention
behind her as she and Sir Samuel slowed, ending his conversation altogether and bringing their foursome to a halt.

I must protest. I have hardly spent any time in your delightful company, Miss Wilbanks." Freddie tipped his hat
to Susan. "I have barely had the chance to compliment you
on your choice of color and have not had the opportunity to
expound on the delights of your bonnet."

"You are an incurable flirt, Freddie. And let it be known,
I am quite immune to your charms." Susan waved him away
and stepped closer to Sir Samuel.

Freddie gasped as if he were wounded. "I have no ulterior
motive, only admiring a lady's wardrobe. I'm sure Sir Samuel will share my opinion of your superb fashion sense."

"Allow me a closer study, if you will." Sir Samuel graciously offered his arm, and they moved forward along the
path.

"Ouch!" Freddie winced when Muriel took hold of his
arm rather forcefully. "Do take care, will you? Nearly shredded the sleeve, and it's new."

The forest-green jacket fit him exceptionally well. His
buff inexpressables gave the illusion his lower limbs were much longer than they actually were. He cut a figure of which
any Corinthian would be proud. At the moment, however,
Muriel had a rather unladylike opinion of him.

"I do not believe I have remarked on your lovely carriage
dress, my dear." Freddie widened his eyes and made a show
of amazement regarding Muriel's military-style redingote.
"What color is that?"

"It's called Verona blue, and it is new." She knew he had
no interest in the hue of her garment whatsoever. Muriel did
not wish to share his company either. Her simmering anger
necessitated that she say something truly horrid to him. "It
would look dreadful on you, far too unflattering for your
light brown locks."

"The sun tends to fade my hair in the summer, but I vow,
I could manage that hue in the winter, when my hair darkens nearly to the color or yours." Freddie slowed their progress, whether from his exertion of verbal sparring with his
sibling-which she was under the distinct impression he
could manage to do and walk at the same time-or that he
had another reason for wanting to lag farther behind Susan
and Sir Samuel, Muriel could not be certain.

"Sukey is right: your charms are quite ineffective, and
your wits have gone begging!" If her brother thought she
should behave in any other than an unkind manner toward
him, he was thoroughly mistaken. Muriel was still quite
vexed at his refusal to help her find Sherwin.

Lady Maria Greenfield and Mr. Thomas Hollensby, who
were at that time passing the siblings, joined Freddie's laughter, which Muriel suspected was not from their finding a
shared humor as much as identifying her brother as the joke.
It was a sentiment on which she would agree.

"I certainly hope this is not the response I receive from every female in Town." He'd stopped chuckling and put on
a show of mock devastation.

"Lady Maria and I hardly count as every female. If you
were practiced in simple arithmetic, you could quickly calculate that we are only two."

Freddie's pace slowed further, while Sir Samuel and Susan's lead grew larger. A lull in the oncoming foot traffic
gave them a few minutes' privacy.

"Why are we strolling through the Park? Why can we not
drive through and be done with the whole wretched business?" Muriel scolded him.

"Because, my dear Moo, you desperately need a distraction. Even though you may consider this task tedious, it
removes you from the town house and, for a time, relieves
you of some of your constant worry over Amhurst's absence." Freddie spoke without any humorous tone. "It does
you no good, Moo. I'm sure the exercise and air cannot
harm you in the least."

Her fingers dug into his arm to hold herself upright. The
truth in what he said weakened her resolve to display an
unwavering facade. The others around her might not have
seen any difference in her behavior, but it seemed she
hadn't fooled her brother. Muriel didn't know if she could
stand on her own any longer. "I do not think I can bear being
seen in public. I cannot pretend to enjoy myself, not without
knowing that Sherwin- It is a facade I am unable to maintain."

"You must endure, sister." Freddie placed his hand over
hers as if the action would lend her strength. "I've thought
quite a bit about what you last said to me. So I made a few
inquiries and found some men to check into Amhurst's disappearance."

"Oh, thank you, Freddie!" Tears of relief sprang to
Muriel's eyes that something was finally being done to locate
Sherwin.

"Now, now, no waterworks, please. My ego's taken enough
of a blow from you, Sukey, and Lady Maria. Don't let it be
known I've done you a kindness. I don't need my reputation
to be tarnished as well."

The front door opened at 4 Tavistock Road. The kind soul
who had relayed Sherwin to the address had insisted on having his ivory waistcoat as well. Shivering in only his shirtsleeves, trousers, and boots, Sherwin did not speak but was
recognized immediately.

"It's'a me, Giorgio, Mista Lloyd." The servant opened the
door wide and welcomed Sherwin inside. He called out to
someone, "Dica it padrone. "

Sherwin followed Giorgio to the front parlor, where the
hearth fire warmed the room, and, truth be told, warmed
his worn, travel-weary bones.

"Please, you must sit. Please, sit." Giorgio motioned to a
chair near the fire. "The Signore, he prossimo qui-soon
come now."

"Thank you, Giorgio." As Sherwin moved toward the
hearth, he felt the physical as well as emotional toll of his
journey weighing heavily upon his shoulders. The relief of
being surrounded by something familiar and comforting
was welcoming beyond words.