High Spirits at Harroweby (20 page)

There were no roses, but a sturdy vine, thankfully without thorns, twined its way upward, and Lord Waverly was easily able to climb it.
He swung himself quietly onto the balcony where Selinda now stood with her back toward him, chafing her arms and shivering.

“
Lady Selinda ...” he whispered.

She turned abruptly and threw herself into his arms. He sat back on the edge of the balcony, taking her onto his lap and wrapping his cloak about her.

“Waverly,” she shivered, “I am so glad you are here. I fear I should have died—”

It was a very fortunate thing that he chose just then to cover her lips with his own before she had a chance to continue with ...
of the cold for that dratted Lucy has taken it into her head to lock me out.

It was fortunate, too, that a moment later his words were,
“I love you to distraction, Selinda. I cannot live without you. You must say you will be my wife.”

By way of answer, Selinda snuggled closer, kissed him quite soundly, and sighed,
“I am so glad you are finally decided on it, my love. Otherwise I should have had to have ridden out and abducted you, and I am sure that tedious Mr. Noon would have tried to read me a lecture!”

Lady Sybil, who had watched this very gratifying scene with ghostly tears pricking at her eyes, now floated through the wall into the chamber where Lucy, too, had been observing the results of her maneuvering.

“Good evening, Lucy,” the ghost said.

“
Hello, Lady Sybil,” she whispered in return.

“
I have been sending you mental messages this last hour or so. I am glad to see they have been effective.”

“
I wondered why my thoughts were so tingly. I should have guessed it was you. But, I say, how do you come to be here? Ought you not to be in Lord Waverly’s pocket?”

The ghost
’s silvery laughter tinkled at this naive error of speech. “Darrowdean was my bridal settlement,” she told Lucy. “I can stay with you here as long as I like.”

“
Capital,” cried Lucy.

“
And if Miss Walleye does not suit, I fear the place will agree with her very little.”

Lucy smiled mischievously and turned her attention back to the window. Selinda
’s arms were wrapped around Lord Waverly’s neck as he climbed over the edge of the balcony. In a few moments, they could hear the hoofbeats echoing away into the darkness.

“
It is a good thing Selinda was furious with me or she would never have left.”

“
A very good thing indeed,” the ghost concurred.

The full blazing sun of the tropical sky beat down on Prudence Mordent. It had been almost six months since the ship that was to have transported them to the penal colony in Australia sank and she and Rupert had floated to this island on the same broad plank.

“
Faster,” she snapped irritably at a small boy who immediately commenced to swing the palm frond more vigorously about her head. It was not always easy to make herself understood, but such petty irritations aside, she was content with her life here. Strangely, the inhabitants of this island paradise had accepted her punishing presence and tyrannical commands unquestioningly. Unbeknownst to her, mere days before she and her son washed up on the beach, a bad-tempered witch doctor had prophesied that the gods were about to inflict a punishment greater than the usual typhoon. The scowl on Prudence’s unlovely face demonstrated at once to the chastened populace that the gods were angry, indeed, and the frightened masses had fallen at once to their knees.

Beneath the waving palm f
rond, Prudence scrutinized the activity in front of her. A royal palace was being built for her, albeit of bamboo; busy workers were also gathering fruit for the distillery. Essentials, then, were being attended to. In the distance she could see a perspiring Rupert balancing a heavy load on his head while an enormous woman flung invectives at him in the native tongue. Yes, she had chosen a good bride for him, she thought with a grim smile. Nothing like a tyrannical wife to help a son to appreciate his mother.

Oblivious to dark whisperings of rebellion about her, she called loudly for another plate of breadfruit.

* * * *

When the same sun passed the meridian and made its way over England, it eventually shone down on a lively party driving through the shaded lanes of Hyde Park. Selinda and Waverly still sat hand in hand,
oblivious to the distress of onlookers who shuddered at the sight of a man so very much in love with his wife. The other side of the carriage was occupied by Lucy and the invisible Lady Sybil Harroweby. Neither, it turned out, had been destined to stay long in the countryside. On returning from their elopement to Paris, Selinda and Waverly had swooped down on Darrowdean with armloads of presents and very little censure for Lucy’s unaccountable behavior that night a few weeks earlier.

As Lady Sybil had predicted, Darrowdean had proved extremely disagreeable to Miss Walleye. As soon as Selinda
’s absence was discovered, reported, and condemned, the lady had turned her attentions assiduously to poor Lucy. The miserable child practiced curtseys, painted screens, netted purses, and walked about with books on her head until she was ready to scream. The last straw came when Miss Walleye consigned Lucy’s hoard of romantic novels to the drawing-room fire and prescribed a rigid program of improving readings for the child. Enough was quite enough. Later in the week, the lady had suddenly fled without giving notice after a series of inexplicably upsetting dreams. Somehow, in all the fuss, no one remembered to inform Mr. Noon and Lucy was thus able to order her life as she pleased until her sister’s return.

As the carriage rounded a curve, Lucy cried out,
“Look over there, Selinda. Can that lady possibly be Miss Snypish?”

“
I believe it is,” Selinda agreed slowly on examining the pair seated on a bench beneath a flowering linden tree. “And the gentleman? Can that possibly be your cousin, my dear?”

“
By heavens, it is Bastion!” Waverly exclaimed, his conscience suddenly a bit ruffled. “I must say, I do feel a little guilty about the trick I played him.”

Commanding his driver to pull aside, the party stepped down and approached the odd couple before them. Miss Snypish, or the Marchioness of Bastion as she was now known, rose up at once and twisted her face into an odd grimace intended as a smile. That expression was still not easy for her to achieve, but it was immediately clear she had been working at it.

As they drew closer, Lucy and Selinda realized they had never seen such a change in a woman before. She looked now quite plump, and, although her features were every bit as sharp, her glance was not nearly so intimidating as it once had been.

After diffident greetings had been exchanged, Lord Waverly took his cousin aside a bit while the ladies cha
tted with all appearance of amiability.

“
I must apologize, Bastion,” Lord Waverly began fervently. “You must believe I never meant for it to come to this.”

“
Not a word, Waverly,” Bastion told him firmly. He paused a moment and then went on with solemn dignity, “I do not know what I should have done without Letitia. I was past praying for, as you have cause to know, till she took me in hand. You would not know me, Waverly.”

Waverly looked doubtfully at his cousin.
“If you should need anything, Cousin, money or...”

Bastion made a curt gesture of annoyance.
“You do not understand, Waverly. She has remade me completely. I was bitter at first, but now ...” He broke off suddenly and looked back at his wife. “She’s a remarkable woman, Waverly. A woman of talent and ... passion!”

As they drove off a few moments later
, Waverly told Selinda, “It is an odd ending, I’ll be bound. Odder than any book!”

Selinda laughed and took his arm,
“Nay, sir. Better than any book!”