A Simple Lady (20 page)

Elizabeth gasped audibly at the unfairness of his barb. Momentarily silenced by shock, when she did respond, her voice trembled with anger. “I would not expect
you
to understand why I tried to help Billy. Your inclinations toward him doubtless lie in another direction.”

She glanced at her husband from the corner of her eye and was surprised to see a puzzled frown settling on his forehead.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, madam, but my inclinations toward Billy certainly would not have led me on a futile quest into one of the more unsavory sections of London searching for a boy whose surname I did not know.”

“And just what action would you have taken?” Elizabeth demanded under the happy assumption that her husband could return no satisfactory reply to that question.

“I would probably have chosen the same course Larkman took.”

“And that was?” Elizabeth asked, suddenly feeling much less sure of herself.

“Sending for a doctor.”

“Oh.” Such a strategy had never occurred to Elizabeth, although she was beginning to wish it had. “And did the d-d-doctor discover what was wrong with B-B-Billy?”

“Yes.” Kenrick did not elaborate. He was staring straight ahead, apparently intent on his driving.

Elizabeth clamped her teeth together. Blast the man! He obviously was not going to make this easy for her. She considered asking no more questions, but her concern for Billy was too great to allow her to remain silent. “What did the doctor say?”

“That Billy is coming down with a simple case of chicken pox. Unfortunately, the lad thought he had smallpox and feared he would contaminate anyone who came near him. That is why he climbed to the top of the cupboard. By now, however, he should be tucked up in the cot I ordered moved to the schoolroom for him. He will be cared for by one of the maids who is positive she has already had chicken pox, and, additionally, he will be relieved of his concern about passing the disease along to others.”

Elizabeth stared at her reticule resting in her lap. She was feeling more foolish by the moment. “How did the doctor manage to learn what Billy was thinking?” she asked softly.

“By the simple expedient of asking questions to which Billy could respond by shaking or nodding his head. Ingenious, would you not agree?”

Elizabeth ignored his biting sarcasm. Perhaps she deserved some censure for dashing off to Spitalfields so precipitously, she admitted to herself, but still she could not understand the extent of Kenrick’s fury. Nor would she ask him to explain, because the only reason she could imagine for his rage was that he objected to so much effort being expended on such a flawed little boy.

Amazed at the depth of her sense of loss, Elizabeth didn’t try to speak again during the remainder of that uncomfortable ride back to Kenrick House. Even had she wished to say something, her throat was unaccountably blocked by tears.

Still, the one time she risked a sideways glance at her husband, she thought his expression now appeared somewhat wistful rather than angry.

And if she believed that, she told herself firmly, she must really be suffering from delusions.

Chapter Sixteen

When Kenrick finally pulled his horses to a stop in front of the town house, Elizabeth was longing for nothing so much as to retreat to her bedchamber for a good long cry, although she did not fully understand the reasons behind her distress. Billy was not seriously ill, and she had returned unscathed from her foray into Spitalfields.

Of course her husband had been furious with her, but she should be growing accustomed to his displeasure by now. That was very much the history of their marriage. Well, she would prove to him that his disfavor had no power to daunt her. She turned to him with a brittle smile. “I must thank you, my lord, for having been so kind as to—”

“I am afraid you will have to save the pleasantries for later, my dear,” Kenrick interrupted brusquely. “I believe you have a welcoming committee.”

Startled, Elizabeth turned toward the open doorway where Mary stood, a smile of relief brightening her face. Larkman waited just behind her, while the second footman rushed out to help Elizabeth descend from the curricle.

“My dear, dear girl,” the dowager marchioness cried, rushing out to throw her arms around Elizabeth. “I am so relieved that you are unhurt.”

“May I, too, be allowed to express my pleasure at having you safely home, my lady?” a smiling Larkman asked, his eyes a bit misty.

Even the second footman had stepped out of his prescribed role and was beaming at her.

Receiving a welcome akin to that of a hero returning from the wars did little for Elizabeth’s composure. But she was touched for all that and found she could not object when Mary paused in the entrance hall and requested that Larkman order a fortifying pot of tea and some of Mrs. Blanchard’s iced cakes to be brought to them in the drawing room.

“Won’t you join us, Jeremy?” the dowager asked, greeting her son’s entrance into the house with an admiring smile. “I want to hear all about how you rescued our dearest Elizabeth.”

“There’s little to tell, ma’am,” Kenrick responded shortly. “No doubt my wife will be happy to supply you with the details. If you will excuse me, I wish to—”

“But Jeremy,” Mary interrupted. “Please do not go yet. There is something I need to talk with you about, dear, and I rarely see you these days. I had hoped to catch you this morning, but you had already left the house when I came down.”

Looking a bit abashed, Kenrick turned to follow his mother into the drawing room. He had been aware that in avoiding his wife, he was also spending less time with his mother, but he had not supposed she missed him. Apparently he had been mistaken.

“Please accept my apologies for having neglected you, ma’am,” he said, affecting his most charming smile after joining his mother on the settee. “May I be of service to you in some way?”

Mary returned Kenrick’s smile and reached to pat him upon the knee. “Yes, dear, you may. I want you to accompany me and Elizabeth to Oak Groves for a few weeks.”

“What?” the marquess and Elizabeth exclaimed in one voice, their tones respectively amazed and horrified.

Mary raised her eyebrows. “The two of you are behaving as though I have just suggested a trip to the wilds of America,” she complained, her expression decidedly disgruntled. “In case neither of you has noticed, the city is growing uncomfortably warm these days, in addition to being rather thin of company. Too, I have not visited Oak Groves since you were a baby, Jeremy, and I very much wish to see what changes have taken place there in the intervening years.”

“But I can’t go, Mary,” Elizabeth objected in a strangled tone. “You must go without me.” She was recalling her mother’s words on the day the countess had informed Elizabeth of her upcoming nuptials. “The marquess will wish to entertain at his principal seat occasionally,” the countess had said, “and would not want to be embarrassed by your presence.” And only two days later, on their wedding day, the marquess himself had ordered his bride never to visit any of his estates.

Another reason for her reticence, Elizabeth admitted to herself, was her reluctance to foist herself on her husband. That she must always fall short of his desire for perfection was indisputable, and she didn’t want to be constantly reminding him of her deficiencies, as would be the case if the two of them were forced into more frequent associations at Oak Groves.

But the most compelling reason of all for her reluctance was the fact that, despite knowing her husband would only find displeasure in her company, she continued to find pleasure in his. The very sight of his face earlier at Spitalfields Market had been enough to set her silly heart to fluttering. And, despite his almost tangible disgust with her as they sat side by side in his curricle returning to Kenrick House, she had been uncomfortably aware of him as an attractive man while he had obviously been thinking of her as an irritating responsibility.

“But why can you not go, Elizabeth?” Mary asked, her forehead furrowing.

Elizabeth bit her lip. Kenrick was also staring at her as though he, too, was anxiously waiting to hear her reason. Seconds dragged by while she scrambled for a credible excuse to stay in London. At last she said, on a gasp of relief, “Billy!”

“Billy?” Mary repeated, her frown deepening.

“Yes. I can’t leave Billy at this time. Not with the poor little fellow ill.”

“That’s easily remedied,” Kenrick said. If Elizabeth had not known better, she would have thought she detected relief in his expression. “We can take Billy with us.”

“What a wonderful idea,” the dowager seconded. “The air in the country will be much more healthful for the lad than this stifling city heat.”

“But he can’t be moved so soon,” Elizabeth objected.

“Again, that’s no problem,” Kenrick responded. “The doctor said Billy should be on the mend in less than a week, and it will take at least that long to complete preparations for the move. First, I must notify the housekeeper at Oak Groves of our plans, because, if I know Mrs. Sanders, she will insist on giving the house a thorough cleaning in honor of mother’s return.” He turned to his mother with a smile. “Mrs. Sanders asks about you each time I visit Oak Groves, and she will be delighted to see you again.”

“I’ll be pleased to see her, too,” Mary responded. “She was very kind to me when I resided at Oak Groves.”

“Furthermore,” Kenrick continued, “I suspect you ladies will need four or five days to effect last-minute purchases and oversee your packing. By that time Billy should be much improved.”

“Jeremy is correct you know, my dear Elizabeth,” Mary said. “By the time we get ready to leave, Billy will be well enough to travel. And, I assure you, the remainder of his recovery will move ahead much more quickly in the country.”

“Very well,” Elizabeth said. Capitulation was the only course open to her unless she wished to severely disappoint her mother-in-law. Forcing a smile for Mary’s sake, she stood. “I’ll just go share the good news with Billy.” She almost ran from the room in her haste to get away before either her husband or her mother-in-law could judge just how little she felt like smiling. After all, she could hardly explain that her reluctance to go to Oak Groves was now centered around protecting a dear, flawed little boy from daily contact with a man who hated imperfection.

* * *

After his mother excused herself to begin preparations for their trip to Oak Groves, Kenrick poured himself a glass of brandy and then wandered over to a window looking out on the garden. He realized that Elizabeth had been less than eager to visit Oak Groves, but he was less sure about her reasons. Billy, he was certain, was only one of her concerns. The others he could only speculate about. Perhaps she simply dreaded the prospect of being forced into closer proximity with him. On the other hand, perhaps she did not wish to be parted from Gerald.

Kenrick was aware that Gerald and Elizabeth had been riding together in the park the last few mornings, a situation that caused him considerable concern. That Gerald had a selfish motive for befriending Elizabeth was certain, but what that motive was Kenrick could not guess. He did not think Gerald was trying to fix Elizabeth’s interest, for there could be no monetary gain in that, but he admitted to himself that he would feel much more at ease with Elizabeth residing at Oak Groves for a few weeks. He must remember to warn his mother against inviting Gerald to join them.

Sighing, he turned from his unrewarding deliberations and helped himself to another glass of brandy. Slumping down into a large, wing-backed chair, he sat there pondering his reasons for becoming so excessively angry with Elizabeth that morning. Although her actions had been ill-advised, they had also been unselfish.

Slowly sipping his brandy, Kenrick spent the next half hour reflecting on his wife and on his own reactions to her. Although Elizabeth appeared to possess several admirable qualities, he still feared her behavior was no less than a clever facade. After all, he had learned to his sorrow how easily a woman could pretend to sentiments she did not feel. He once would have sworn that Paulina loved him above anything on earth until she had so callously disabused him of that particular notion.

Although, on a rational level, he understood that Elizabeth was not Paulina and thus was not guilty of Paulina’s sins, on an emotional level he was less sanguine. Certainly the possibility existed that Elizabeth had helped her parents dupe him. If that were true, he could never trust her in any aspect of their lives together.

His glass was empty. Wearily, Kenrick pushed himself to his feet and ambled over to the sideboard for a refill. He generally stopped after two glasses, but today he was feeling unusually melancholy. Walking a bit painstakingly, he made his way back to his armchair.

The devil was in it, but he really wanted to trust Elizabeth, he admitted to himself with a despondent sigh. He took another sip of brandy, noting with detached interest that his lips were becoming numb. Yes, he really,
really
wanted to trust Elizabeth. But was any woman trustworthy? Most especially, was a woman who was not above suspicion trustworthy? And did that last question even make any sense? Suddenly feeling too fatigued to continue holding his glass, Kenrick placed it carefully on the floor beside him before allowing his head to collapse against the high chair back.

When Larkman stepped into the drawing room a few hours later to close the curtains, he almost collided with his lordship, who was stumbling toward the hallway, rubbing the back of his neck and cursing softly beneath his breath.

* * *

“I think you’ll be pleased with Oak Groves,” Mary told Elizabeth as their coach pulled away from the front of Kenrick House some six days later.

“I beg your pardon? Oh! Yes, I am sure I’ll be pleased,” Elizabeth responded, an abstracted frown on her face. “Mary, do you think Billy will be comfortable in the other carriage?”

“Of course he will be comfortable, dear. That coach is very well sprung, you know, and it is so large that Billy can lie down if he wishes. That is why Jeremy insisted upon having it brought up from Oak Groves.”