Read Cupid's Choice: She's a shy beauty in distress. He's a chivalric gentleman. Online
Authors: Gayle Buck
Mrs. Holland dissolved into tears. She looked reproachfully at her brother. “Arnold! How can you abuse me in such a fashion? I am only doing my poor best!”
“It is very poor, indeed!” exclaimed Colonel Caldar hotly, before slamming out of the sitting room.
That evening Colonel Caldar and his wife came to dinner. Guin observed there seemed to be some tension between her mother and her uncle. They were meticulously polite toward one another. Mrs. Caldar regarded all with a thoughtful gaze, her usual serene composure unruffled.
Afterward, when Colonel Caldar had followed the ladies to the sitting room for after-dinner coffee, he remained unusually silent. Guin knew that her mother still very much disliked it when Lord Holybrooke was engaged elsewhere when she and her mother dined at home. No doubt Mrs. Holland had complained to Colonel Caldar about it, and he, not wishing to enter into fruitless argument, had simply become uncommunicative.
Her supposition seemed substantiated when Mrs. Holland expressed her pride in her son’s achievement yet also voiced pique that he was drawing away from her. “I don’t understand, brother, why Percival must be out every evening. I have greater need of him than ever before as my escort. It seems strange to me that he is not here,” said Mrs. Holland plaintively.
Guin looked up from her embroidery, entirely sympathizing with her mother’s feelings. “I, too, miss Percy terribly. He is gone so much with his new friends.”
Colonel Caldar smiled at his niece even as he addressed his sister. “While I am here, I shall be pleased to squire you and Guin anywhere you wish. And Clara is perfectly willing to help chaperon Guin, as you know.”
Mrs. Holland ignored both the colonel’s reference to his wife and his quick, smiling glance in Mrs. Caldar’s direction. “I do appreciate your company, Arnold. However, it is not quite the same, is it? After all, Percival is my son and an earl besides.”
Colonel Caldar contemplated his sister for a long silent moment, until she asked sharply what ailed him. Colonel Caldar shook his head on a sigh. “Nothing ails me, Aurelia, except this notion you have that Percy should be tied firmly to your apron strings. He’s a man grown by any standard.”
“He’s just a boy! He needs me to guide him and to tell him how best to go on,” said Mrs. Holland, looking with surprise at the colonel.
“Leave well enough alone, Aurelia. The boy is having his first taste of liberty, and I think it is a good thing,” said Colonel Caldar shortly.
“Arnold, I think perhaps it is getting rather late,” interpolated Mrs. Caldar in her cool well-bred voice.
The lady’s interjection might well have been left unsaid, for all the heed it was paid. Brother and sister had come to dagger point at last.
Mrs. Holland smiled sweetly, but there was the flash of steel in her brown eyes. “We must disagree on that point, Arnold. I did not scheme and pinch every penny after my husband died, only to see my sacrifice scorned! My children shall reap the fruits of my labor, I promise you!”
“We have never seen eye-to-eye on any number of things, have we, Aurelia?” asked Colonel Caldar with a grim little smile. “It is all the result of ambition. Scandal and dishonor never signified to you when they stood in the way of your rapacious ambition.”
Mrs. Holland whisked out a lacy handkerchief and dabbed at her suddenly swimming eyes. Throwing out her other hand in a dramatic gesture of appeal, she exclaimed, “Brother! How can you be so unfeeling? Love prompted me to my life’s course! You know how affected I was when my dear husband died and—“
Colonel Caldar cracked a laugh. “That is a prime piece of nonsense! You never shed a tear, except to mourn the death of his possible inheritance!”
Mrs. Holland gave an outraged cry and allowed the tears to roll down her cheeks. “How utterly beastly you are!”
Instantly Guin jumped up from where she was to sit down beside her mother. Placing a slim arm around her mother’s shoulders, she said reprovingly, “Uncle, you must not! You wound Mama’s sensibilities.”
His expression stiff, Colonel Caldar bowed. He became aware of his wife standing beside him, her hand on his sleeve. He squeezed Mrs. Caldar’s fingers. “In order to spare you a painful scene, Guin, I shall not pursue some home truths as I should like! Come, Clara, let us go home to our lodgings.” He walked quickly from the parlor, accompanied by his wife.
Mrs. Holland, who had wilted in a vulnerable posture against her daughter, straightened as soon as the door closed with a snap behind the Caldars. She dried her eyes matter-of-factly. “Well! Your uncle is the oddest man, Guin. Pray, have you finished with that piece? I should like my laces mended on my green gauze. You may go up and get it.”
“Yes, Mama,” said Guin, slowly withdrawing her supporting arm from her mother. She felt a pang at being so summarily dismissed, though perhaps not as strongly as she might once have.
As she sped upstairs to her mother’s dressing room, she wondered what could possibly have sparked the conflict between her mother and her uncle.
Guin knew before Mr. Lloyd touched his whip to his horses that the drive was to be no commonplace event. First had been her mother’s archly worded goodbye and the coy smile that had accompanied it. Then there had been Mr. Lloyd’s overly solicitous queries concerning her comfort. Generally the gentleman was so wrapped up in his scientific theories that very little else penetrated the mists of his mind.
Guin decided that Mr. Lloyd must have come to a momentous decision, one which involved herself. She hoped that she was equal to the task of speaking to her future.
She was proven right in her assumption. Mr. Lloyd, all correctness when it came to driving with his groom up behind, never paid heed to servants. He introduced the subject that Guin suspected he might with a portentious cough.
“Miss Holland, I have come to a momentous decision,” he announced.
Guin nearly laughed, his opening gambit being almost word for word to how she imagined it might. She took a moment to steady her sadly lacking self-control. She affected a cool, rather indifferent tone, much as she had heard Lady Smythe use when depressing pretensions. She had no desire to give Mr. Lloyd the least sign of encouragement. If she could spare herself and the gentleman the embarrassment of a suit, she would do it. “Indeed, sir?”
Mr. Lloyd did not consider himself to be unencouraged. “Miss Holland, for some time I have been aware that my uncle is in ill health. I—”
“Your uncle, sir? Which uncle would that be?” asked Guin swiftly.
Mr. Lloyd’s mouth opened, but nothing came out of it. His face bore a disconcerted expression. There was a blankness in his eyes. “Which uncle?”
“Yes,” said Guin, nodding, looking at him with a slight smile expressive of her interest.
“That would be my uncle, Lord Rockham, the Marquis of Ford,” said Mr. Lloyd.
“The Marquis of Ford? Have I had the pleasure of his lordship’s acquaintance? I cannot recall offhand, but I daresay I should if you jogged my memory, Mr. Lloyd,” said Guin artlessly.
Mr. Lloyd’s mouth opened again with nothing issuing forth. Then he shook his head. “Miss Holland, I have just told you that my uncle is in ill health. You cannot have met his lordship, for he is bedridden and is in residence on his estates.”
Guin nodded, as though satisfied. “I knew that I could not have met the Marquis of Ford, and that quite explains it. Thank you, Mr. Lloyd. You have quite relieved my mind of anxiety. Have you another uncle?”
There was a snigger from the groom, who was seated up behind. Guin ignored the soft sound, and she hoped Mr. Lloyd would not be angered by his servant’s break in impassivity.
However, she had reckoned without Mr. Lloyd’s imperviousness. Mr. Lloyd never noticed servants unless it was a question of his own comfort. “Miss Holland, I have not got another uncle,” he replied with precision. “What I wished to say to you—”
“Have you not, sir? I do truly care for my uncle, Colonel Caldar. You are acquainted with him, of course,” said Guin.
“I have met Colonel Caldar on any number of occasions, yes,” said Mr. Lloyd. “Miss Holland, pray allow me to lay open to you what is on my mind. It is for this purpose that I have asked you to drive out with me today and—”
With desperation Guin cast about in her mind for something else she could say to delay Mr. Lloyd’s declaration. With relief, she recognized the occupants of a carriage that was coming toward them.
“Oh, there is Lady Beasely and her daughter. Pray do stop, Mr. Lloyd! Miss Beasely is such a good friend of mine,” said Guin, waving to the occupants of the passing carriage.
Obediently Mr. Lloyd slowed his carriage until it had stopped abreast of the Beaselys’ equipage. He endured the exchange of pleasantries between the ladies, nodding politely to Lady Beasely and Miss Beasely. However, his absolute silence was felt, and soon, too soon for Guin’s taste, Lady Beasely gracefully excused herself and her daughter.
Miss Beasely, eyeing Mr. Lloyd’s set countenance and having already received signals from Guin, said with a bright look, “I shall be certain to call on you, Guin, so that I can get all of the news!”
Guin grimaced ever so slightly. “Yes, pray do so, Margaret!” she retorted.
Miss Beasely laughed and waved gaily as the carriages parted.
Guin sat back with a sigh, feeling somewhat drained by all of the subterfuge that she had been forced to put to use. If she had hoped that Mr. Lloyd would be permanently put off by such evasive tactics, she swiftly learned that it was not so.
“Miss Holland, I beg of you to give me audience,” said Mr. Lloyd. The expression in his eyes was grave and very direct.
Guin did not have the heart to gainsay the gentleman in the face of such dignity. She sighed. She folded her hands in her lap. “Very well, Mr. Lloyd. I shall listen to you,” she said quietly.
Mr. Lloyd made a slight bow from the waist, his obeisance accompanied by the usual unmistakable creak. He did not appear discomfited by it, however, but proceeded in his ponderous fashion to lay out the advantages of his suit.
As Guin listened to him as she had promised to do, it came to her that he had given much reflection to his offer for her hand. She was a little touched, for she knew how the gentleman’s scientific papers and journals absorbed him almost to the exclusion of all else.
Guin’s interest began to wane, and she hid a yawn behind her glove. Indeed, she thought, it appeared that the question of his marriage to her had exercised so much of the gentleman’s intellect that he was in danger of boring on forever. When Mr. Lloyd began to expound about such minuscule details as the shade and pattern of the new upholstery for the chairs in the dining room he meant to order in honor of their betrothal, Guin decided it was time to interrupt.
She threw up her hand. “Sir! Mr. Lloyd, I must insist that you stop now. I fear you are on the verge of embarrassing me by these descriptions of your largesse.”
Mr. Lloyd frowned as though he found her statement unfathomable. “That was indeed not my intent, Miss Holland. My intent was to illustrate to you how happy it would make me to have you as my bride.”
Guin smiled kindly at him. “I am fully aware of the honor you have bestowed upon me in making me this offer, Mr. Lloyd. But I must tell you in all sincerity that my heart is already engaged by another. I am very sorry that I must disappoint you in such a fashion.”
Mr. Lloyd looked at her blankly for several moments. “Are you saying you have accepted another offer, Miss Holland? For I quite understood from Mrs. Holland and from Lord Holybrooke that my addresses would be acceptable to you.”
“Indeed they are, Mr. Lloyd,” said Guin warmly. “But you see, I am quite certain that my heart lies elsewhere. And—and so I must refuse your very flattering offer. I am sorry to cause you pain, sir.”
“Pain? Why, as to that, there is none since my affections are not engaged,” said Mr. Lloyd matter-of-factly.
Guin gaped at him. “Really? I was quite certain that Mama said—” She abruptly abandoned what she was going to say. “Mr. Lloyd, why ever did you offer for me?”
“As I explained to you, my uncle is not expected to live much longer. As a peer, I shall be obligated to take my place in Parliament and to entertain. I shall need a wife who will act as my hostess,” said Mr. Lloyd on a depressed sigh. “I shall no doubt have far less time to devote to my studies.”
“Then you do not need to marry for the sake of an heir?” asked Guin, surprised.
Mr. Lloyd palpably shuddered. “I do not care for children, Miss Holland. I have a cousin who possesses a fair number of the little brutes. I do not lack for heirs, thank God.”
Revelation dawned on Guin. She had just been handed the perfect instrument to forever persuade Mr. Lloyd that she was not the bride for him. “I understand you perfectly, dear sir. I am more happy than ever before that we have had this talk, Mr. Lloyd. You see, I wish to have children,” she said firmly. As a rider, she added, “Quite a lot of them, actually.”
“I am glad that you have been so open with me, Miss Holland,” said Mr. Lloyd with some emotion in his voice. “In fact, I am overcome that your scruples will not allow you to accept the position which I offered to you. I humbly withdraw my suit.”
That wasn’t quite what she had said, but Guin was willing to let Mr. Lloyd put whatever concept on her refusal that he wished. “I trust that we may remain friends, Mr. Lloyd. And I hope that you will continue to call upon myself and my mother?”
“Be assured that I shall do so. Mrs. Holland will discover in me a good friend,” said Mr. Lloyd, bowing and creaking.
There was silence for a few minutes, while Guin turned over in her mind what Mr. Lloyd had said and not said. Somewhat hesitantly, but with more boldness than she would ever have thought possible of herself only weeks ago, she asked, “Mr. Lloyd, I don’t quite understand one thing. If you were not enamored of me, why did you decide that I would make a suitable bride for you? I have very little fortune, as I believe.”
Mr. Lloyd gave her his grave smile. “Of course I did not base my decision on fortune, Miss Holland. When one has expectations such as I have, fortune means little. I hope I do not offend when I tell you that it was your face which initially attracted my notice. I thought you quite lovely.”
“Oh!” Guin blushed. She looked at Mr. Lloyd in a considering way. Mr. Lloyd was perhaps twenty years older than she was; he was a dead bore when he became absorbed with his scientific theories; he wore a corset. Yet Guin thought he was a very kind gentleman to pay her such a compliment. She impulsively laid her fingers on his sleeve. “I believe that is one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me and meant it, Mr. Lloyd.”
He looked astonished, and a dull red traveled up from under his cravat into his face. “Well, ahem, you are very welcome, Miss Holland. Perhaps I should take you back to the town house now.”
“Yes, I think that will be best,” agreed Guin.
Apparently feeling that the subject of matrimony was closed, Mr. Lloyd began expounding upon one of the latest articles in one of the scientific journals to which he subscribed. Guin listened more closely than she would have done an hour before and even put a pertinent question to Mr. Lloyd that pleased him very much. He waxed eloquent for several minutes, and when he had driven up to the curb in front of the town house, he expressed regret that their outing had ended so quickly.
Mr. Lloyd wrapped the reins and ponderously climbed down out of the carriage to go around and give a hand to Guin. She lightly descended and accepted his escort to the front door. The porter had opened the door, but Guin paused before entering. “Will you not come in and greet my mother, Mr. Lloyd?” she asked.
“Perhaps I should not. The circumstances, you know. However, rest assured that I shall call upon you and Mrs. Holland again,” he promised.
“We shall look forward to it, sir,” said Guin. She was surprised that she meant it. She waved good-bye to the gentleman before going inside.
When Guin walked into the entry hall and greeted the butler, he informed her that Lord Holybrooke was awaiting her return in the library. Guin was surprised and wondered what her brother could possibly want. Without going upstairs to put off her hat or gloves, she crossed to the library door. Opening it, she said, “Percy? Did you wish to see me?”
Her brother had been standing at the mantel, staring into the fire, but at her appearance he at once strode over to her. Lord Holybrooke grasped her wrist and drew her forward. “Come in here, Guin. I have something to say to you.”
“Of course, Percy. But may I not put off my hat first?” asked Guin gaily.
He gave scarcely a glance at her headgear. “I would rather you didn’t.”
It struck Guin that her brother was looking unusually somber. At once she entered the library and turned toward Lord Holybrooke, rather worriedly studying his abstracted expression. “Why, Percy, whatever has happened? You appear upset.”
Lord Holybrooke laughed shortly. “Do I? It is all on your behalf, sister.” He shut the door with a snap and looked across at her. There was a rather grim expression in his eyes, and his lips were held tight. “I have learned something from my uncle that I think you should know. Two days ago, Sir Frederick made an offer for your hand.”
Gain’s color fluctuated as she stared up at her brother. Her heart pounding, she said shakily, “Pray don’t tease me, Percy! Has Sir Frederick really offered for me?”
“Yes, I tell you! But Mama rejected his suit.” Lord Holybrooke had not meant to be so brutally frank and regretted it instantly. He stepped forward quickly to catch his sister under an elbow as she seemed about to crumple. “Guin! Are you all right?”
“Of—of course. How—how very silly of me, to be sure,” said Guin faintly. She groped blindly with her hand for a convenient chair and sank down upon it. Her gaze was fixed painfully on her brother’s concerned face. “Mama rejected Sir Frederick? But why, Percy? When she must know how much I care for him, why would she do such a thing?”
Lord Holybrooke took a hasty turn around the room, flinging over his shoulder, “Surely you must know why, Guin! You are aware of Mama’s inordinate ambition for me—for you!”
“Yes, yes, of course I do,” said Guin in a tight, shaking voice. “But I did not know—did not realize! I knew that Mama looked higher for me. Of course I did, for she told me so. And recently she has taken an unaccountable dislike to Sir Frederick, besides. But if he offered for me, that would explain it!” She threw out her hands in distress. “Oh, Percy, what am I to do?”