Gayle Buck (8 page)

Lord Trilby carried her fingers to his lips. “As am I. I shall be fixed at Walmesley for an indefinite time, as I told you. I will call on you again, Lady Caroline.”

She understood then that he would not be remaining for the weekend at Berwicke. It was an example of his exquisite discretion, and the anger burned brighter in her eyes for the humiliating moments just past. “I will be most happy to receive you, my lord,” she said formally.

Lord Trilby slanted a smile down at her. Then, with a nod and a long cool look for Mrs. Burlington, he sauntered past the ladies. He was met in the entry hall by Simpson, who stood ready with his greatcoat, beaver, and gloves. “Thank you, Simpson.”

He left by the front door, and it was as though the sound of the closing door set free the two immobilized and silent ladies.

Mrs. Burlington at once stepped fully into the drawing room and sharply shut the door. “I was never more mortified in my life! How dared you let me go on when all the time his lordship was behind the door!”

“It is quite your own fault, Amaris. As I recall, I did make some attempt to warn you, but you were absolutely bent on speaking your mind,” Lady Caroline said coolly. She brushed past her aunt without another word or glance, not trusting herself to retain her civility.

Mrs. Burlington’s strident voice followed her. “Pray do not think that you may so easily push me aside, niece! I have had a letter from Lady Eddington, advising me of her and Lord Eddington’s own early return.”

Lady Caroline paused in the act of opening the door. Making an immense effort to ignore her aunt’s spiteful tone, she said, “Their return? But I have heard nothing of this.”

“Perhaps you would like to be apprised of the whole, then,” Mrs. Burlington said.

There was a short silence while the two ladies exchanged stares. Lady Caroline said quietly, “How is it that Lady Eddington has written to you, Amaris? I had no inkling that you and she were on such friendly terms.”

Mrs. Burlington smiled with a certain satisfaction. “Lady Eddington and I became quite close in those short weeks that she, whilst in company with her stepmother, was visiting Berwicke before her marriage to your brother, the earl. Surely you must recall that Lady Eddington was often to be found in my company.”

“Yes, indeed. It became something of a joke with my brother that he always knew where to look whenever he had misplaced his prospective bride,” Lady Caroline said, deliberately deflating her aunt’s pretensions. She was still in a flaming temper, and if it were not for the information that Mrs. Burlington claimed to hold, she would not have willingly chosen to stand about bandying words with the disagreeable woman a moment longer than necessary.

Mrs. Burlington’s eyes flashed at the set-down, and she snapped, “I found Lady Eddington to be just as she ought to be, most respectful and accommodating to one who must by age and experience be thought to be wiser than she in her own tender years.”

The implication was plain, but Lady Caroline did not react to it. “When are my brother and his lady returning, Amaris?”

“The letter was postmarked nearly three weeks before I received it, so they must already have set out. I expect that Lord and Lady Eddington will be returned to Berwicke in less than a fortnight,” Mrs. Burlington said shortly. She paused a moment, then added, “Lady Eddington and I are as one in our agreement that your continued presence here at Berwicke would be a matter of considerable upset to Lord Eddington.”

There was a short silence.

“I beg your pardon?” Lady Caroline’s voice was at its most controlled, quiet and yet not at all retiring.

Mrs. Burlington was unheeding of the danger signals telegraphed by Lady Caroline’s eyes. Her own eyes were bright with triumph. “Lord Eddington will naturally wish to indulge his new bride in all her little whims. And I do not think it at all unusual. After all, a newly wedded couple should not be required to divert their attentions from one another to accommodate the awkward presence of a family relation. His lordship will also wish Lady Eddington to take on the responsibilities of her new position, which she cannot easily do under the present circumstances, as even you must agree.”

Lady Caroline stared at her aunt for a long moment. Her delicate brows had lifted slightly as Mrs. Burlington had spoken, and now there also came an unmistakable curl to her lips. “I see. What of your own presence, Amaris? I should think that if mine was
de trop,
yours must be equally so.”

Mrs. Burlington was momentarily taken aback. Her surprised expression quickly smoothed, however. “My dear, it is hardly the same thing. I am an old woman and unlikely to demand much either in the way of entertainment or lavish civilities. In addition, Lady Eddington has most graciously assured me that she does not regard my presence at Berwicke as inhibiting in any way. To the contrary, I believe she thinks of me mostly in the guise of an amiable aunt.”

“And what has Lord Eddington said?”

Mrs. Burlington’s eyes slid away. She smoothed her sleeve. “As to that, I couldn’t say.”

“What you mean is that my brother has not been consulted one way or the other, but that you have taken it upon yourself to make every attempt to eject me from my home before ever he arrives, so that you will be firmly ensconced as mistress of the house,” Lady Caroline said. “Pray allow me to inform you, Amaris, that I have no intention of packing my bags and bidding leave to Berwicke Keep in accordance with your opinion, nor on the basis of what you say are Lady Eddington’s wishes. When I leave Berwicke, it will be when I wish it or at my brother’s express request. I hope that I have made myself understood.”

“Perfectly,” Mrs. Burlington said through stiffened lips. “However, I think you should know that the matter does not end here, with you and me.”

“No, I should rather think not,” Lady Caroline said. Before she went through the door, she glanced once more back at her aunt. Cold anger shone out of her eyes. She was past caring that servants had begun to linger curiously in the entry hall.

“I do not think I have ever told you before, out of respect for my mother’s memory, Amaris, what I have always thought of you. But now I feel compelled to do so. I have always found you to be ill-bred, patronizing, and quite mean-spirited, to boot.’’ With that, she flung shut the door behind her and walked swiftly away.

Chapter Nine

The sky was lowering and sullen, threatening snow.

Lord Trilby cast a calculating look up at the heavy gray clouds overhead. His breath frosted the air as he said, “Ugly weather shaping up, John.”

The bag bearer knowledgeably eyed the sky in his turn. He sniffed the air experimentally, much like the tired spaniel at his feet was doing. “Aye, m’lord. I can scent the new snow. A right nasty spell we’re in for, I’ll warrant.”

“Yes,” Lord Trilby agreed thoughtfully. He had left the manor house early, with his hunting gun over his shoulder, dressed warmly in hunting togs, a spaniel cavorting at his heels, and accompanied by his bag carrier.

The sport had been indifferent and resulted in a disappointing brace of hares and a pheasant or two, when what Lord Trilby had hoped for was a haunch of fresh venison for his dinner that evening.

The weather and the cold seemed somewhat ominous to him. He decided suddenly that he had had enough tramping about the fields and woods. “Let’s go in, John.”

“Aye, m’lord.” The bag bearer threw a sympathetic glance at his master as they started back the few miles to the manor house. The earl had started out in good spirits, but the exercise and the disappointment of not even catching sight of a likely stag had brought a deep frown to his lordship’s face. The bag bearer shrugged philosophically, reflecting that the next time his lordship took his gun out, the sport would likely be more to his taste.

Lord Trilby would have been amused at the construction that his servant had put upon his frowning expression. Actually he had a prescience of something impending. Perhaps his restlessness was brought on by the threatening weather, but more likely it was owing in large part to the lack of word from his secretary.

Lord Trilby had sent to Mr. Weston by messenger word that his meeting with Lady Caroline Eddington had been unsuccessful, along with a query whether the Grandduchess of Schaffenzeits had arrived. The messenger had returned with only a short acknowledgment of the earl’s message, which had left Lord Trilby dangling in mild suspense. He still had no notion when, or even if, the grandduchess had yet arrived in London. It was very unlike Weston not to think of including some indication of the situation, Lord Trilby thought, and not for the first time.

When Lord Trilby got back to the manor house, he was greeted by the intelligence that a personage had arrived. The young manservant, who had not been with the household more than two years, appeared uncharacteristically flustered as he led the earl to understand that the personage was demanding his lordship’s immediate attendance.

Lord Trilby raised his brows as he continued to give over into the trust of the footman his gun, his hat, and his gloves. “Indeed!”

As he walked rapidly in the direction of the drawing room, his keen ears picked up an unmistakable voice raised in imperious query. Servants bearing unfamiliar and innumerable pieces of baggage scurried past him with scarcely a murmured recognition. The very aim seemed to crackle with energy. Lord Trilby grinned to himself, recognizing without ever having heard a name that the personage who was the cause of such a stir of activity could be none other than the Grandduchess Wilhelmina Hildebrande of Schaffenzeits.

Lord Trilby stepped into the drawing room.

The earl’s entrance was at once noted. The diminutive and aged lady who was beleaguering the butler at once laid off with her demands and questions. She brushed past the butler as though the man had ceased to exist. She stretched out one withered hand, wielding a finely polished walking stick with the other. “My dearest Miles.” Her greeting was heavy with the guttural accents of her country.

Lord Trilby took his great-aunt’s hand and bent down, avoiding the brim of her bonnet, so that he could place a fond salute on her powdered and wrinkled cheek. “Your grace.”

The Grandduchess Wilhelmina Hildebrande stepped back so that she could look at her grandnephew. The pleasure that had lightened her sharp visage lessened as she looked him over. Her guttural voice deepened with disapproval. “Why have you attired yourself in such a mode? I do not find it at all appropriate that you should receive me in your dirty boots.”

“Forgive me, your grace. I have but this moment returned from hunting. When I was informed of your arrival, I so much forgot myself in my eager wish to greet you that I did not go upstairs to make myself presentable first,” Lord Trilby said with a half-smile.

The Grandduchess Wilhelmina Hildebrande nodded, accepting the necessity of his lapse in proper manners as a form of compliment to herself and to the esteem in which he held her. “It is understood, of course. You were not to know in advance of my arrival. Your secretary is a worthy and loyal man, Miles. He was not easily persuaded to permit me to indulge my wish to come upon Walmesley all unexpected.”

Lord Trilby’s brows rose in surprised understanding. This was the explanation, then, for his secretary’s odd omission regarding any mention of the grandduchess. “If I had known of your intentions, I could have better prepared for your arrival, your grace.”

The grandduchess flashed a thin smile. “I think we each have an understanding of why I should wish to do so,” she said, watching with satisfaction the sudden wariness that entered the Earl of Walmesley’s expression.

She turned her head and gestured imperiously to a small voluminously cloaked figure who had stood apart during the conversation. When the young lady appeared to hesitate, the grandduchess reached out for her hand and firmly drew her forward. “Come, Marie. Do not be so shy with us. Lord Trilby, I wish you to meet my protégé, Fräulein Gutenberg. Fräulein, this fine English gentleman is the one whom I have told you so much about. Lord Miles Trilby, the Earl of Walmesley.”

Lord Trilby shot the Grandduchess of Schaffenzeits a keen glance. As she met it, an expression of amused malice lit her heavy-lidded eyes. Lord Trilby thought his great-aunt knew very well what she was doing in pushing forward the young woman, and his thoughts were not charitable toward the grandduchess. He was reluctant to enter even so far into her schemings as to acknowledge the bride she had chosen for him. However, he was too well-mannered to parade his feelings.

The Earl of Walmesley gathered himself to carry out his obligation with noble fortitude. With the politest of expressions he took Fräulein Gutenberg’s small gloved hand. She cast up a single glance at his face before lowering her eyes. The brim of her bonnet so shaded her face that he could not have studied her features even if he had wanted to do so.

Instead of raising the Fräulein’s hand to his lips as he would assuredly have done with any other lady whom he had just met. Lord Trilby shook her hand in the most civil manner of which he was capable. This most impersonal of salutations was calculated to convey to his great-aunt that he was not as amenable to her plans for him as she might wish. His verbal greeting, too, was worded in such a way that the Grandduchess of Schaffenzeits could not mistake his stand. “Welcome to Walmesley, Fräulein. I hope your stay here is pleasant. I hope also that you will always retain fond memories of your visit to England.”

The Grandduchess Wilhelmina Hildebrande gave a delighted cackle. The lines were now well and truly drawn. She liked nothing better than the struggle of wills and the maneuverings that came with such skirmishes. It was, after all, how she had managed to keep her own duchy intact for so long when all about her others were forced to fall in with the usurper Bonaparte. For now, however, she would let go the earl’s open challenge. There would shortly come a better time to demonstrate her strength and to engage forces.

“My lord, I suggest that Marie and I repair to our rooms to put off our cloaks and make ourselves presentable for dinner,” the grandduchess said. She glanced significantly at the earl’s soiled hunting attire. “You shall make the required adjustments before rejoining us, of course.”