Elizabeth Mansfield (10 page)

Letty came in shortly afterward, moving as briskly as her weak legs, with the aid of her omnipresent cane, could manage. “Kit, my dearest, good morning!” she said cheerfully, offering her cheek. “Melton tells me that Caro has refused you again. I must say, my love, that I’m touched by your persistence. A young fellow with less character would have given up by now.”

“Thank you, Aunt,” Kit said, helping her to the sofa, “but my call today was not really to see Caro. It was a ruse.” And perching beside her, he launched into an account of the events of the day before.

He had barely begun to relate the details of the runaway horses when Letty interrupted with a gasp. “Good God!” she exclaimed. “It was
you?
”

“What?” Kit asked, taken aback.

“The fellow who saved her life? It was you?”

He gaped at her. “How did you know ... ?”

“She’s spoken of nothing else but the brave gentleman who dashed under the rearing horses to save her!” Letty exclaimed, beaming at him.

“I did no such thing,” Kit declared. “She insists on making a hero of me. That is, of
him.
” He stared ahead of him unhappily. “I wonder if he’d have been quite so heroic in her eyes if she’d known he was Kit Meredith.”

Letty’s face fell. “The Vexatious Viscount,” she murmured. “Yes, I wonder.”

“The Vexatious Viscount? Is
that
what she calls me?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Charming,” Kit muttered in disgust.

“But do go on, Kit. How did you become Mister ... Mister ... ?”

“Mr. Terence. Marcus Aurelius Terence, if you please. Did you ever hear anything so ridiculous? It was all I could think of.” He related the rest of the story without further interruption. At the conclusion, he looked at his aunt, shamefaced. “I don’t expect you to approve,” he said. “It was a cowardly thing to have done.”

“Not at all,” Letty said, a twinkle appearing in her eyes. “I think it was a very
good
thing to have done. By becoming Mr. Terence, you will soon make your way into her good graces—if you’re not there already. I assure you that Mr. Terence has already made a noteworthy first impression.”

“Then you don’t think the lie was a stupid mistake?”

“No, I don’t. I have a feeling it will all turn out very well.”

“I wish I were half so sanguine.” He got to his feet and began to pace. “Very well, then, we’ll proceed with the deception. Do you think, Aunt Letty, that you can face me at tea and pretend I’m an absolute stranger?”

Letty smiled, drawing herself up proudly. “I played Portia at school. It was a stellar performance, if I do say so, as I shouldn’t. One doesn’t lose that sort of talent with the years, does one?”

Kit grinned back at her. “One certainly doesn’t. I see I have no need to be concerned. Then the only other thing I’ll ask of you is to instruct Melton not to give me away. I’ll talk to the boys.”

He found them in the back sitting room, desultorily playing a game of hearts. He let them play out the hand before telling them what had happened the day before. When they realized it was he who’d rescued their sister from the runaway horses, they were overjoyed. “You should’ve heard the great things she said about you!” Gilbert chuckled.

But Kit took no pleasure in their pride in him. He was shamefaced as he related how he’d deceived her about his identity. But they only laughed loudly. “Serves her right,” Arthur said. “She should never have set her hackles against you in the first place.”

“Perhaps it was all right in the first place, when she didn’t properly understand why you sent us off,” Gilbert pointed out, trying to be fair to his sister. “But we’ve been telling her every day what a good sort you are, so she should’ve come round by this time.”

“Did you really tell her I was a good sort?” Kit asked, smiling at the boy fondly. “That was very kind of you.”
 

Gilbert shrugged. “Well, you are.”

“Will you still think me a good sort when I ask you to join me in deceiving her for a while?”

The boys looked at each other for a moment. Then Arthur, reading agreement in his brother’s eyes, spoke for both of them. “Yes, we will. We love Caro, but we’re on your side, Kit. There’s nothing we want more than for Caro and you to be friends. Perhaps a small deception is the only way.”

“Besides,” Gilbert said, his whole face alight with eagerness, “it’ll be a great lark watching you humbug her at tea today.”

Kit’s smile died. “Good God,” he muttered, “I didn’t think of that. Do you and Caro always take tea together?”

“Most always,” Arthur said. “Why?”

Kit ran a nervous hand through his hair. “I don’t think I’ll be able to do it with the pair of you watching. I can’t act a lie in front of you.”

“Why not?” Gilbert demanded.

“I don’t know.” He smiled ruefully. “Perhaps it’s because you think me such a good sort.”

Arthur nodded with an instinctive understanding. “We won’t go to tea, then. We’ll make ourselves scarce.”

But Kit shook his head, frowning. Despite the boys’ quick acceptance of his planned deception, he didn’t feel right about it. “Dash it,” he muttered, disturbed, “this is all becoming too deucedly Machiavellian. Let’s give it up. I’ll tell her the truth and be damned.”

“No, dash it, Kit, don’t give up,” Arthur begged. “There’ll never be another opportunity like this one. Saving her life like that ... it was a stroke of luck that won’t happen again. You can’t waste it.”

“We don’t have to be there at teatime,” Gilbert offered generously. “We can say we have to go on an errand for Aunt Letty. To her milliner or something.”

Kit was touched. “You’re a good fellow, Gil, truly you are. But you know Letty would never send you boys to her milliner’s. It’s a footman’s task.”

“We sometimes do footmen’s tasks,” Gilbert insisted. “We went to Berry Brothers on St. James Street last week to pick up some bohea tea.”

“Yes,” Arthur seconded. “Aunt Letty knows we like the chance to walk about outdoors, so she often sends us on errands. Go ahead with your plan, Kit, please! Leave this detail to us.”

Kit let himself be persuaded, but he remained worried long after he’d left the house.

The boys, too, were worried. They weren’t sure what errand they could suggest that Letty would agree to. But they needn’t have troubled themselves, because Caro solved the problem for them. At about two in the afternoon she herself came looking for them, followed closely by Letty. “Would you mind missing tea today?” she asked them, her cheeks pink. “Aunt Letty would like you to go on an errand for her.”

Arthur and Gilbert exchanged glinting glances. “But, Caro,” Arthur demanded with exaggeratedly wide-eyed innocence, “isn’t this the day your savior, Mr. Terence, comes to tea? We want to meet him, don’t we, Gil?”

“Sure as check we do!” Gil grinned.

“There may be other times to meet him,” Aunt Letty said, throwing them a darkling look. “Today, he and Caro should spend the time becoming acquainted, not making conversation with inquisitive boys.”

Caro’s blush deepened. “Wouldn’t you rather take a stroll to Gunther’s and have some chocolates than stay to tea and listen to some dull conversation?”

“I’d rather hear the conversation,” Arthur said, unable to resist the game.

“We
like
conversation,” Gilbert added with mischievous enjoyment.

But Letty, afraid that this teasing might be pushed too far, elbowed Gilbert warningly in the ribs. “But you like going to Gunther’s more, don’t you?” she asked pointedly.

Gilbert nodded. “Yes, I suppose I do. Gunther’s shop always smells of baking biscuits and apricot jam.”

Arthur sighed in pretended surrender. “Very well, we’ll go to Berkeley Square if you wish it.”

“Get along, then,” Letty ordered, pressing a half guinea into his palm and urging him toward the door. “But don’t spend more than two shillings for chocolates or you’ll make yourselves ill. Bring home some fruit tarts and a box of sugarplums. And don’t lose the change.”

“And Arthur,” Caro added, her eyes lowered and her cheeks aflame with embarrassment, “you needn’t hurry back.”

TWELVE

“Mr. Terence” presented himself at the Mortimer Street house promptly at three. A blank-faced Melton announced him from the doorway of the drawing room. Caro, all smiles, rose to greet him. “Mr. Terence, good afternoon. Do come in.”

Kit’s eyes drank her in. If she was breathtaking yesterday, today she was bewitching. Her eyes shone with warmth, her short, thick curls bounced with youthful charm, and the flounce of her flowered cambric gown flipped with every step she took toward him, revealing a pair of shapely ankles. He hadn’t realized how slim and supple her body was, and how a softly clinging gown could add a new dimension to an already glowing loveliness. Gulping down his admiration, he took the hand she held out and bowed over it, hoping that his manner did not betray how his heart was thumping in his chest.

Caro, for her part, also discovered that her heart was thumping. Mr. Terence appeared even more likable than he’d seemed yesterday, if that were possible. All night she’d tried to envision his face, convinced that it could not possibly be as appealing as she remembered it. She’d told herself that the emotion of the close escape had enhanced his appearance in her mind. She’d warned herself not to be disappointed if the second sight of him was less prepossessing than the first. But here he was, every bit as winning as she remembered. Nay, more so! “How good to see you again,” she managed, albeit a bit breathlessly. “May I present my aunt, Miss Meredith. Letty, dear, this is Mr. Terence.”

Kit turned and bowed. “How do you do?”

“Mr. Terence,” Letty cooed, “I’m so very glad to make your acquaintance. I can’t tell you how I appreciate having this opportunity to thank you. Your heroism has earned my undying gratitude.”

“Dash it, Aunt Letty, don’t overdo it,” Kit muttered under his breath as he bent over her hand. Aloud he said, “Heroism is much too strong a word, ma’am. Your niece overestimates my action.” He turned to Caro with a smile. “Didn’t you promise me you’d put the incident out of your mind?”

“I promised to try. But it’s an impossible task.”

“But it’s not, I hope, impossible to drop the subject from the conversation.”

“Must we? I asked you to tea expressly for the purpose of thanking you.”

“Really? Is that the only reason? If so, I’m sorry I came.”

“No, please, you mustn’t say that,” Caro said.

“Of course you mustn’t,” Letty seconded. “There are certainly other reasons. You came to have tea, for one. Shall we sit down? I’ll ring Melton to bring in the tray.”

Over the teacups, Kit tried to keep the conversation safe by asking Caro all sorts of questions about herself. But she was determined to learn more about him. She quickly ascertained the most important information: that he was neither married nor betrothed. That information quickened her pulse, but there was a great deal more she wanted to know. “Do you live in London?” she asked at the next opportunity.

“I only visit,” he replied, determined to keep as near to the truth as possible so that when the time came for confession, there would not be too much to correct.

“Oh?” There was a hint of disappointment in the word. “Do you stay long?”

“I fear not. I only came on a business matter, which I suspect will soon be settled.”

Dashed, Caro stirred her tea in silence. Only when Letty coughed did she lift her head. Then, with a forced smile, she asked, “Where
is
your home, Mr. Terence?”

He wanted to say Shropshire, but he feared it would lead him into murky depths. She would undoubtedly respond that she, too, had lived in Shropshire, and she would then probably ask exactly where in Shropshire his home was. Replying to
that
question would lead too close to the truths he could not tell. To avoid that danger, he answered, “Yorkshire,” and learned, as all liars soon learn, that one lie invariably begets more.

To keep the conversation safe, he turned the subject to politics. Napoleon’s emergence from Elba a month ago was on everyone’s lips. The trouble again brewing in Europe always made for lively conversation. When Mr. Terence expressed his disgust at the halfhearted support Russia and Austria were giving to the European alliance, he was pleased that Caro fully agreed. He was even more pleased when she said that she was sure Lord Wellington was more than capable of leading the allied troops. She sounded so sensible now that it was hard for him to understand why she’d seemed so unreasonable before.

When the subject turned to books, Caro, on her part, discovered that Mr. Terence took as much pleasure in the novels of Walter Scott and the poetry of Wordsworth as she did herself. It was a surprise to him and a delight to her to learn that they had so much in common.

Two hours flew by. It was with reluctance that he stood up to go. Caro accompanied him to the door. “I know you don’t wish me to refer to the forbidden subject, Mr. Terence,” she murmured as he took her hand. “You have the true hero’s modesty. But, since you’ll soon be returning to Yorkshire and I may never see you again, you must let me thank you one more time.”