Charming the Duke (23 page)

“Berfine, Berfine,” Andrew said. “Can’t place him.”

“He’s the Earl of Marwick’s eldest son, the heir,” Athena said. “His current title is Viscount Altry.”

“What is Berfine’s connection to Tramontin and Juliet, though? Or to Matilda?” Athena asked.

“Countess Marwick, Berfine’s mother, is a cousin to Tramontin’s mother, the Marchioness of Hereford,” Thornsby said. “They are close, from reports I’ve heard.”

“Ah,” Athena said.

“But none of this tells us the relationship to the Bisset family,” Andrew said.

Thornsby sat down beside the Dowager. “The relationship to the Bissets’ is through your younger granddaughter, Alexandra.”

“Alexandra?” the Dowager said in astonishment. “Alexandra? She follows her sister Juliet in most things, and Frances, her mother, is attentive. Unlike Matilda, Alexandra is not clever. She would have never begun some assignation on her own. She could never sneak about! Alexandra would tell everyone and anyone exactly what she was about.”

“I believe you have misjudged her, ma’am,” Thornsby said. “I heard some news that involves her from someone I consider most reliable. Although the most disturbing piece of it, I am quite sure, is Millicent’s doing.”

Athena edged forward on her seat, and Andrew put his hand on her shoulder. The Dowager stared at him, proud and defiant, as if daring him to say the worst. Well, he was going to have to say the worst.

“I have been told that your granddaughter Alexandra and William Berfine, Viscount Altry, have been seeing each other in secret for at least two years.”

“Go on,” the Dowager said.

“Berfine came to point recently and told his parents that he was not marrying his cousin but had chosen a wife on his own. Apparently, the cousin’s property lined up with one of the Marwick estates and would have made a grand wedding gift to Berfine with a promise of profitability in the offering.”

“Chose Alexandra over property?” the Dowager asked.

“I believe Berfine’s mother, the Countess, confided to her cousin, the Marchioness, that her son intended to affiance himself to Alexandra against the families’ wishes,” Thornsby said.

“And Millicent? Where does she fall into this?” Athena asked.

“I do not know how Millicent found out about the relationship between Alexandra and Berfine. Perhaps she overheard it somewhere. Perhaps there was gossip from below stairs,” Thornsby said. “But she did find out.”

“A two-year secret relationship, while titillating, is certainly not the thing to bring down a family reputation,” Athena said. “There must be more to it.”

“There is,” Thornsby said and turned again to the Dowager. “Does Alexandra spend time with a young lady named Miss Marsh?”

The Dowager nodded. “Yes. They met years ago at a dancing class they were both attending. Lydia Marsh has been to Maplewood on many occasions, and I’m certain that Alexandra has been to the Marsh’s. Why do you ask?”

“There is a footman employed by the Marsh family that claims your granddaughter, Alexandra, and he, had an intimate affair,” Thornsby said. Athena’s intake of breath was audible. The Dowager’s face hardened, and he imagined she was struggling greatly to maintain her self-control, and several minutes ticked by in silence. Eventually, she faced him.

“And this footman’s story is the one that has been told to the Countess, Berfine’s mother, who was distraught and shared it with her cousin, the Marchioness, who in turn will be discouraging her son George from offering for Juliet,” the Dowager concluded. “You’re assuming, of course, that Countess Rundel has paid in coin or in favors this footman, telling the tale.”

Athena shook her head. “It is diabolical.”

“And Matilda has been told the only way to save Juliet and Alexandra’s happiness is to have nothing to do with you?” the Dowager asked.

“I would say your assessment is accurate, ma’am,” Thornsby said.

The Dowager stood and crossed the room and stared out the long window. She turned back to Thornsby. “I will not stand for this. I will not. What do you expect will happen tomorrow at Herndon?”

“I would think our footman will describe what supposedly has happened in full hearing of many of the guests of the garden party. I would suspect that Millicent will endeavor to make sure that the Earl and Countess of Marwick and the Marquess and Marchioness of Hereford are present when he makes his announcement,” Thornsby said. “Millicent will want to inflict the most pain and humiliation possible.”

“But this will not happen if Matilda will have nothing to do with you, Freddy.”

“Then I will have to stick by Matilda’s side the entire day. I have no intentions of letting Millicent threaten the Bissets any longer. Tomorrow will be the end of the threat regardless if the Marwicks and the Herefords believe the footman or me.”

“Well played,” Andrew said. “Have we located the footman?”

“No,” Thornsby said, “but I will know who he is by morning.”

* * *

“What are you fussing about, Matilda?” Juliet asked. “I’ve worn this dress to other afternoon entertainments. It is one of my favorites!”

“It is entirely too revealing,” Matilda said. “You simply must change.”

“Matilda, darling,” Frances said. “Why are you worrying about Juliet’s dress? She looks lovely.”

“Don’t you always tell us we mustn’t expose ourselves to gossip or ridicule, Mother?” Matilda asked.

“Yes, but Juliet’s dress does not expose anything other than her shoulder, dear,” Frances replied. “What are you wearing today, Matilda?”

“I am wearing what I have on,” she replied.

“That dress is ever so plain and so dark,” Alexandra said. “Aren’t they your mourning clothes?”

“And what if they are?” Matilda turned with a huff and went back to her room. Her stomach was churning. The thought of facing Countess Rundel again was making her ill but no more so than facing Thornsby. She was terrified that while trying to maintain a cold attitude towards him, she’d burst into tears. Matilda gathered her wrap, tightened the ribbons of her black bonnet till it pinched and slammed the door to her rooms on her way to the family carriages.

“Who died?” Fitz asked Matilda as she climbed into the family carriage and squeezed in beside Franklin and the Peach.

“Matilda is in mourning, Fitz,” Alexandra said quietly. “Do be more courteous.”

“I am not in mourning,” Matilda said.

“Made me come home from University, she did,” Fitz said. “All to go to some silly garden party, so courteous be hanged! And what’s the long face for, Alexandra?”

“Fitz!” Franklin said. “Have a care. You’re upsetting Suann.”

Suann picked up Matilda’s hand from her lap and patted it as tiny tears rolled down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Matilda.”

Matilda was ever so glad that the coach was slowing down as she had nothing to say in reply to Suann. She could see her parents, and Juliet and Ethel, alight from the coach ahead of them and saw her father shake hands with the Marquess who was greeting guests with his wife. The Marchioness nodded to her mother and father but said nothing in greeting. Matilda thought she may vomit and was so terribly hot in her mourning clothes she was worried she may faint. It did not help that Suann was holding her arm tightly and patting her hand. When the carriage door was opened by a footman, Matilda stumbled out without even taking the servant’s hand.

“Come along, girls,” Ethel said to them all as she walked up to their carriage and took Alexandra by the arm to lead her up the terraced steps. “Greet your host and hostess.”

Matilda hurried to Ethel’s side. “Let us just go join the festivities. We can speak to the Tramontins when there are not so many guests to greet.”

“We will wait in line and greet the Tramontins properly,” Ethel said.

“How odd, Grandmamma,” Alexandra said. “You never, ever wait in line when we go to balls.”

“Make your curtsy, Alexandra, to the Marquess and Marchioness,” Ethel said when they were finally face-to-face with their hosts.

“What a lovely young lady,” the Marquess said graciously. The Marchioness turned to greet another guest.

The Marquess touched his wife’s elbow. “The Bisset Dowager and her granddaughters, my dear.”

The Marchioness turned and stared at Ethel. “Ma’am.”

“This is my youngest granddaughter, Alexandra,” Ethel said.

Matilda was holding her breath as she waited to see what the Marchioness would say. Seconds ticked by.

“Lovely,” the Marchioness said finally with a nod and quickly turned and called to her son, George Tramontin, who was speaking to Juliet. “George, your Aunt is calling you. There’s a young lady she’d like you to meet.”

The Marchioness turned back to Ethel with a look of triumph.

“Come along, Alexandra, Matilda,” Ethel said as she moved away, cane snapping on the stone walkway. “I believe I see the Earl and Countess of Marwick. We will make our greeting.”

“No!” Matilda and Alexandra said at the same time.

Ethel turned to them and arched an eyebrow. “Some reason you don’t want to greet the Berfines? The son, William, I believe is his name, is a classmate of Fitz’s.”

“No. He was a classmate of Franklin’s,” Alexandra said as her face colored.

“We have nothing to say to the Berfines, Ethel,” Matilda said. “Come away and look at the gardens.”

But Ethel marched along and inserted herself between the Earl and the Countess and dismissed the other guests to whom they were speaking to, with just a nod.

“I hear your son, Viscount Altry, has a tendre for my youngest granddaughter, Alexandra,” she said.

“Ethel!” Matilda said.

“Grandmamma!” Alexandra cried and covered her face with her hands. “No!”

Matilda could not shake free of the Ethel’s hold on her arm and neither could Alexandra from the looks of it. The Earl cleared his throat, and the Countess pursed her lips.

Ethel inched forward and narrowed her eyes. “I will not allow it. I will not have my granddaughter affianced to a rake-hell such as your son!”

Matilda could not believe her ears. “Ethel! Please!”

The Countess sputtered. “Rake-hell? Wherever did you get such a notion?” She leaned close. “If anyone is to be concerned about his or her reputation . . .”

“Look, Andrew. It is the Dowager Countess of Bisset and her granddaughters,” Athena Smithley said as she walked up to the group and linked arms with the Countess of Marwick. “And the Marwicks. How marvelous!”

Andrew turned to the Earl. “Lord Marwick. I’ve been meaning to talk to you about an investment I’ve made that has given me quite a return. Let me tell you about it,” he said and began to walk away from the women. The Earl followed.

“I have no interest in encouraging any relationship with any of the Sheldons or any of their acquaintances or relatives,” Lady Marwick said. “I have and will continue to discourage any attention my son the Viscount has paid to this chit. It will come to naught and only bring embarrassment to our family.”

“Countess Rundel has done her deed well, I see,” Ethel said.

“Whatever do you mean?” the Countess said but would not look at Ethel.

Alexandra finally pulled away and ran away across the manicured lawns. Matilda watched her go and turned to Ethel. “My embarrassment at being presented to Countess Rundel at the Hollingberry Ball and the scene that followed, no doubt, has upset Lady Marwick. Let us go find Mother and Father. Come away, Ethel.”

“I do not believe that is what is bothering Lady Marwick,” Ethel replied. “I believe she has been duped by a wanton that should have never been received by good company!”

“We shall see who should be cut from good company!” Lady Marwick said and turned in a swish of purple silk.

“Ethel!” Matilda cried as the Countess hurried away. “Whatever were you thinking? You don’t know everything that is going on, and you will only make it worse with your interference.”

Athena shook her head. “You are wrong, Matilda. The Dowager understands exactly what is going on.”

“But . . . ,” Matilda began.

“Miss Sheldon!” Thornsby said and shouted hello as he made his way across the lawns. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” he said as joined them. Matilda could see Millicent Marsh trailing behind him.

Matilda slipped out of her grandmother’s hold and hurried away from Thornsby on a graveled path towards the house. She turned her head when someone called her name. “Alexandra! Whatever are you doing?” Matilda said when she saw her sister peeking out from behind some thick foliage.

“Shhh,” Alexandra said and motioned Matilda to follow her through a door at the bottom of a set of stone steps that were almost completely blocked by shrubbery. Matilda went through the door and found herself in a small open alcove tight up against Alexandra.

“Careful!” Alexandra exclaimed. “The walls are not clean, and I don’t want to get my gloves dirty.”

“Where are we?”

Alexandra stuck her head out into the hallway, just as a servant came by carrying a huge tray with a roasted turkey on it. “Oh, my, does that smell wonderful!”

“This is an entrance to the kitchens, Alexandra. Whatever are you doing here?”

“I imagine it is an entrance to the kitchens. I don’t think they’d be carrying a turkey in the hallway of the guest rooms!”

“What are you doing down here?” Matilda asked.

Alexandra turned and faced her. “How could you do it? I asked you not to tell anyone about my troubles, and you’ve gone and told Grandmamma! How mean you are!”

“I did not say a word!” Matilda said. “Not a word. I’ve not been able to sleep with this weighing on my mind. I can’t eat. Everything is gone wrong.”

“They are my troubles, not yours. I’m the one destined to,” Alexandra said as she began to sob, “to live out my life without love. Oh, William. Everything is wrong, Matilda.”

Matilda patted her sister and shushed her. “Do not cry, Alexandra. Everything will be fine. William’s parents must come around to his way of thinking.”

Alexandra wiped her face. “I wish I could understand why they dislike me so much. I thought I’d die when Grandmamma called William a rake hell to his mother’s face.”

“How does Ethel know you have been seeing William?”