Lord Sidley's Last Season (17 page)

“You anticipate, then, that she might break her engagement?”

Sidley drew his horse to a halt and measured Vaughn’s
expression. “She is not indifferent to me”

“Possibly not. But she is honor-bound; she must still
feel committed. She is like to think you forward”

“Better that than that we should both be too slavish
to propriety-and miserable as well”

“You assume much, Lee. From what I perceive of
Miss Ware, she has not dared to think of you in that
way. You have been courting her cousin. Would you expect her to be overjoyed by your disclosure? Think of
her concerns for her family. And do not forget-you
have not apprised her or the Formsbys of your true state
of health.”

“I shall do so this morning. My perceived ill health
shall no longer prove an obstacle”

“No, but your health might.”

“My cryptic friend, just what do you mean?”

“What I have told you before. That she will not appreciate having been taken for a fool”

“I never sought to dupe her. Nor have I implied that
my days are numbered.”

“The powder … ?”

“Has been entirely dispensed with. Granted, Vaughn,
‘tis a delicate matter. But she must be happier to know
me living than dying.”

“She might still choose not to live with you”

“I shall risk that”

Vaughn looked down as he patted his horse’s neck. “I have rarely questioned your wisdom, Sidley. And
heaven knows we have seen a good deal together. But if I were a betting man, I would lay you odds you will be
surprised.”

“She cannot be in ignorance of my sentiments.”

Vaughn’s eyebrows rose. “She may be aware of your
attentions but still fail to comprehend your aim. I do not
comprehend your aim. You are not being entirely rational, Lee. And your actions have spoken louder than
whatever you might wish to say to her. Regardless of
her own sentiments or wishes, she knows you have
been wooing three other women. I remind you, ‘twas
not Miss Ware you escorted about the lake yesteray.

“The circuits were to please my aunt.”

“And as for that, do you think Lady Adeline will approve this choice?”

“She likes Miss Ware. And the girl is still a Satterthwaite.”

“But she is not at your level. She has neither title nor,
as I hear it, much of a portion. Her standing is not nearly
as elevated as her cousin’s, or even Miss TinckneyDwight’s. And she hasn’t the treasures of the Harveys”

“She has much more of value. And she thinks for herself”

“Commendable, I’m sure. But she cannot act entirely
for herself. Lee, you forget she is a woman”

Sidley smiled. “I assure you, I do not forget it.”

“You forget its restrictions. I caution you-”

“I care for the girl, Arthur.”

Vaughn sighed. “If you truly care for her, she deserves
better from you. You must not speak”

“Must not? Then you must tell me how I should manage. For I suspect you would know better than most” For
his sharpness, he had the dubious satisfaction of silencing Vaughn. “My friend,” he said quickly, “I am sorry.
I’m not used to such speeches from you; no doubt I deserve it. But I feel I must take the chance”

“It is not a gamble in your favor, Sidley. You have forgotten yourself in your pretense” And with that warning, Vaughn continued disconsolately by his side to the
edge of the stable yard.

There, just as they reined in, Sidley noticed that Marian Ware stepped into the open doorway at the west
wing of the house. She wore her painting smock, which
proved she had already been at work. He smiled even as
he managed a careful dismount.

“Now is as good a time as any,” he muttered to Vaughn,
who nodded abruptly and obligingly led the horses off to
be stabled. But Sidley’s assurance diminished the closer
he got to the house. For however charming Marian Ware
looked in her serviceable smock, however appealingly
fresh her cheeks and bright her hair in the early-morning
light, the expression on her face was lethal.

He halted abruptly.

She remained several steps above him and looked
down. The lift of her chin was contemptuous. “I saw you
from the library,” she said, “as you crossed the front drive.” She pressed her palms together, as though she
would contain herself. “You look very fit this morning,
my lord. In fact, you do not look ill at all.”

“Miss Ware-”

“I have been blind,” she rushed on. “Not to see, not
to know, that there is nothing whatever the matter with
you! Yet here I have been painting you and not-not
seeing you!”

Even as she seethed, she looked lovely.

“Miss Ware-” he tried again.

“I suppose I must be monstrously susceptible.” Her
sharply drawn breath was audible. “To have believed
it all the talk, all the gossip that you and your callous
friends have put about. I still cannot credit you with acting so contemptibly, given your family, and Lord Vaughn
as well, and Lord Benjamin. ‘Tis unconscionable!”

“Miss Ware, I would-”

“How cynical you must be,” she charged, “to engage
in such a hoax, when here I thought you merely highspirited! Whatever could have put it into your head?
That all of this”-she gestured vaguely-“should be
nothing but a game to you, some insufferable joke, a
moment’s caprice, when there are those who sincerely
wished you-” She stopped and fixed him with a magnificently dampening stare.

“Clara Poole termed you `playful’ yesterday, my
lord, and she must know, because she is your friend of
long-standing. You have not dared deceive her. But I would call you devious. Devious and cruel! All these
manipulations-to what purpose? More attention, I suppose, for one of your outrageous conceit. Or perhaps you
laugh at those who truly have been injured, and you
make a mockery of their troubles and commitment, to
prove life itself a jest? Your poor aunt! What she must be
feeling! And all so you might gallivant unchecked about
town! That you should be so irresponsible! Oh, you are
.useless’! Just as he said! I shall never forgive you. I shall
never, ever forgive you!”

“Oh, come now,” he said, attempting a step toward
her. “Miss Marian-”

But she moved back. “I cannot stop you from courting
Katie.” Her voice was sharper, harder. “I can only influence how she thinks of you. My aunt and Edgar will aid
me in leaving today, Lord Sidley, when I request it. They
will not question me. They trust me, as they should no
longer trust you. You may explain yourself to them in
your own way. I will grant you that one small courtesy,
here-in your home. But if you do not tell them soon, I
promise you that I shall. And I will leave within the
hour.”

“Miss Marian, you must listen!” He was becoming
distractedly aware of a horrific din from the stables, and
from somewhere at the back of the house a woman was
shrieking, shrieking to the uttermost at seven o’clock in
the morning. He wished only to concentrate on Marian
Ware, yet he had to force himself to ignore the ungodly
noise. “Please, listen-”

“No doubt you have some ready explanation,” she
interrupted. Her cheeks were very pink. The stream of
charges had come from her almost breathlessly. “No
doubt you have practiced it, and possibly you even believe it sound. But it cannot be. You have demonstrated
the most insufferable arrogance! That you, who have
so much, should have stooped … oh, it is despicable,
sir! Your behavior has been vile. And I must regret
my own. I am ashamed. I’m appalled that I thought
you-”

The shrieking had become unbearable. Sidley’s jaw
set grimly.

“I wish never to see you again,” she said abruptly,
and wheeled from him.

He started up the steps after her, only to be brought
up short.

“Sidley!” Vaughn had a hold of his arm. “Becca Harvey’s decamped. Before dawn this morning. Her father
thinks she’s off to Gretna Green”

“Benny?” Sidley grated impatiently, watching Marian Ware’s retreating back.

“No, thank God. Linton Mopes, that fool curricle
racer from town.”

“Mopes! She will regret it. And her parents?”

“Her mother is in hysterics. You must come. Harvey
intends to set out after them at once”

Sidley looked in frustration down the hallway. Marian Ware had vanished. And he could not pursue her.
Not now. His obligation was to the Harveys, whose foolish daughter had had the poor judgment to flee an
earl’s house party, and before breakfast.

“Fast horses,” he muttered to Vaughn, turning with
him to stride toward the stables. He felt ill, as he had not
felt ill in weeks. “‘Twas Miss Harvey’s future, was it
not?” And he thought his own looked more than bleak.

What Marian recalled of their confrontation was her
desire to hurt him. Yet the pain had been her own, and it
had lingered-beyond any remembrance of what she
had said and even past another week in town.

Rebecca Harvey’s elopement had given Marian every
excuse to urge a precipitous departure from Aldersham
and Kent. Edgar had been equally eager to leave the
scene, his pride in eclipse after Becca’s perceived betrayal. He had accompanied Marian and Katie in returning early to London, leaving Lady Formsby to counsel
her friend Lady Adeline as best she might and for as
many days as she felt necessary.

Their carriage trip back had been made at a rapid
pace and all in a day. Yet even at that spanking speed,
Mr. Harvey and Lord Sidley had preceded them to town, where Becca Harvey’s marriage to Mr. Mopes by special license had instantly been all the talk. The hasty
London wedding had only partly allayed the Harveys’
fears. For Linton Mopes was widely deemed a poor
bargain, an acknowledged fortune hunter who had succeeded, at last, in obtaining a prize.

The marriage had placed Mrs. Harvey at the core of
the very gossip she relished, but Marian’s sympathies
were still with her and her shocked husband, who had
wished much better for their adored only child. Though
she had grown keenly aware of the vagaries of attraction, Marian still could not understand Becca’s choice.
One might, she supposed, be ready to wed another on
the basis of several weeks’ acquaintance. But surely a
person of sense did not break every other commitment
to family, friends, and society?

I am become narrow-minded, she thought to herself,
and she concentrated on her painting of Edith’s garden.
She had been excused from class that day, as the rest
were to draw from a male model. Marian had resigned
herself to the exclusion, for Edith had finally returned
from Aldersham very late the night before. As Marian
had not seen Edith in almost a week, she was curious to
hear if Lord Sidley had confessed his ruse to Lady
Adeline-and if the TinckneyDwights had been similarly enlightened.

She wished as well to discuss William. She knew that
ending her engagement would prompt a desire for an
explanation; the change also burdened her with seeking an extension of her stay with the Formsby family. She
anticipated that she must return to Brinford at some
point, since she could not spend the rest of her days with
her cousins. But perhaps, and most contrarily, for what
little time she remained in town, she might at least occasionally glimpse Lord Sidley …

“Do come inside now, Marian. The sun is too high,”
Edith called. She stood shading her eyes at the open
door to the terrace.

Marian, shielded by a slouchy, soft-brimmed country hat, smiled at her. “I shall come directly,” she promised. She quickly cleaned her brushes. Leaving her easel
at its spot in the garden, she collected her canvas and
the rest of her supplies.

In the shadows just inside the door to the drawing
room, Lord Sidley stood watching her as she entered.

“Allow me, Miss Ware,” he said pleasantly, reaching
to take the paint box from her hand. Though he managed
to collect part of her burden, Marian pulled back sharply.

“I ran into Sidley at Jackson’s this morning and
asked him by,” Edgar told her loftily.

Marian scarcely heard him, though she was aware that
several other people stood within the drawing roomKatie and Edith and Lord Benjamin. Sidley’s face was
still in shadow, or else her eyes had not adjusted from the
brightness out-of-doors. Impatiently she swept her practical, unfashionable hat from her head, immediately regretting her action when he smiled at her.

“Where should you like these, Miss Ware?” he asked.

She did not answer him but walked with her canvas
across the room and out into the hall. She propped her
painting against the wall at the foot of the stairs, then
reached to take her supplies from him.

“Your utter gall . . ” she began under her breath.

“I was invited,” he countered calmly. “And I must
speak with you”

She dared then to meet his eyes. In the past she would
have gauged his look sincere; she would have found the
only problem to be with the rapid beat of her heart. But
now she did not trust him.

She marched back into the drawing room. Accepting
a glass of lemonade from Edith, she settled herself on
an exceedingly narrow settee. That Sidley chose to sit
next to her, though there really wasn’t room, set her
teeth on edge.