Midnight Bride (22 page)

"Porter? What kind of errand has Charles sent him on now?"

The butler kept his face impassive. "He is following Master Charles. Of course, it would have been better to make the trip tomorrow, but the

master
has already left. Porter hopes to be in London only a few hours after him."

"My brother has left for London?" The butler
nodded,
his eyes carefully neutral.
"When?"
Before Jeffries could answer, she fired another question. "Did he say good-bye to my cousin or leave me a note?"

The butler straightened, becoming even more rigid than before, his expression carefully wiped clean of all emotion. "I believe he left not quite an hour ago. And Porter did not mention any messages. Shall I question the footmen and grooms?"

"No. But it is strange." She walked down the hall, a frown on her face.

Jeffries, relaxing a trifle, frowned. Catching sight of a footman who was trying to reach the door to the lower stairs without being seen, he called to him. The young footman gulped and turned, ready for the dressing-down he was sure would follow. To his surprise Jeffries simply said, "Take a tea tray to the ladies in the salon." The young man nodded and hurried away. Jeffries stood there for a moment, looking down the hallway toward the salon. Then he headed toward the housekeeper's office.

When she reached the salon, Elizabeth discovered her cousin sitting quietly, turning a piece of material in her hands. "Louisa, did Charles tell you he was leaving?" she asked, her face still perplexed.

"Leaving?
When?"
The older woman's face reflected her disappointment. She dropped her hands to her lap. "Can't you persuade him to stay for at least another week?"

"He is already gone." Elizabeth sank into her favorite chair, a worried look on her face. "I am so worried about him. He was enjoying his stay. I know he was. This is totally unlike him."

Controling
her own disappointment, Louisa laughed lightly. "Of course he was enjoying his visit. What male would not enjoy two women doting on
him.
But you are wrong, my dear."

"About what?"
Elizabeth asked. Her face registered her surprise that Louisa was taking the news of Charles's departure so well.

"About this being so unlike Charles," her cousin said, her face pleasant. "Remember the time he bet someone around here that he could beat the record to Bath?" Elizabeth nodded. "Then he left after supper." Noticing the footman with the tea tray, Louisa signaled him to place it on the table before her. "I believe he won the bet, too." She poured a cup of tea.

Elizabeth stood up hastily, startling the footman. The cup he had been about to hand her rattled. She accepted the tea and sat back down. "But there is no one here to suggest such a wager." Her eyebrows went up. She glared at her cousin, a fierce light in her eyes. "Louisa, you didn't?"

"Of course not, Elizabeth.
I always bet on Charles. That way I usually win," her cousin said soothingly. "His departure is not really unexpected. He has been restless for days."

The younger woman nodded. She gazed into her cup as though she could read her fortune in the tea leaves there. "I simply wish he had told us good-bye before he left.
And waited until morning.
There was no need for him to dash off to London so late in the day."

The maid who had been sent for more hot water set the pot down with a clatter, causing both women to stare at her. The girl, her face red, begged their pardon and bolted from the room. "I think you should talk to Jeffries, Elizabeth. The servants need some additional training," Louisa suggested.

As soon as she was out of the room, the maid looked carefully down the hallway and burst into a run, her cheeks a bright red with excitement. When the girl reached the kitchen, she saw her closest friend and motioned her closer. "Master
Beckworth
just left to go to London. And he was in a taking. Now who has been making up stories?" she asked smugly.

"Probably just going home.
He lives there, you know," her friend said scornfully. "He stayed longer than usual this time. I thought it was about time he left." She tossed her head and returned to the table where the lamps she had been polishing waited.

Her friend sauntered over to her. "You simply do not want to admit you can be wrong," she said. Her voice carried a gloating note. "Just wait and see what happens. Then everyone will know who to believe." She looked around at the other servants, hard at work and determined to avoid her. "You'll see."

By the end of the week even Elizabeth knew something was wrong. Miller had managed to shield her from most of the gossip, but finally even the older servants realized they could not protect her forever. Reaching a decision, they took Mrs.
Beckworth's
dresser into their confidence. That lady, as protective of her mistress as Miller was of Elizabeth, knew exactly what must be done. "Give me a few days," she promised.

Later that afternoon when Elizabeth walked into the small salon where Louisa sat working on a piece of needlework that had been started during Elizabeth's first Season, she did not realize how nervous her cousin was. "Jeffries said you wished to see me. Have you received a letter from Charles?"

"No. And I am rather provoked by the dear boy. He truly should have more consideration of others." Louisa laid her needlework on the table beside her and regarded her finger, now covered in drops of blood, with amazement.

"Louisa, give it up," Elizabeth said, laughing. Every time her cousin tried to sew, the cloth became so bloodstained no one would ever choose to use the item. "Or let me finish it."

"Never.
But you are sweet to offer, dear one." She wrapped a clean handkerchief about her finger, frowning all the while. Louisa stabbed her needle into the cloth and hit her finger again. "Botheration." Throwing the needlework onto the table beside her, she moved the handkerchief farther down her finger.

"You usually do not work on this unless you have been upset," Elizabeth said suspiciously. "Have you had a letter from Mama lately?"

"Not since the last one she sent asking us to Brighton. Are you certain you do not wish to go?" Louisa asked hopefully, her soft blue eyes wistful. Elizabeth shook her head. Sighing thoughtfully, Louisa
unwrapped
her finger and inspected it carefully before laying the handkerchief, now stained beyond saving, beside her.

As scatterbrained as Louisa sometimes seemed, she was quick at picking up hints, and there had been too many things happening lately to make her comfortable. Servants gossiping in the halls would drop into an utter silence when she walked by. And except for a few loyal ones, their attitude toward Elizabeth had changed.

As Elizabeth chatted about the latest news, Louisa took a deep breath. When Louisa had checked to make certain no servant was lingering around the door, she turned. All thought of careful words forgotten, she blurted out, "Elizabeth, did you spend the night with one of your brother's friends?"

Elizabeth seemed to freeze for a moment. Her face flushed red and then white. Grace forgotten, she plopped down, forgetting to straighten her skirt. She opened her mouth, but no words emerged. Louisa simply stared at her. Elizabeth tried again. "What did you ask?" Even to herself, her voice sounded peculiar, almost rusty.

"Did you allow one of your brother's friends to spend the night in your room?" This time the question was flat with each word measured out carefully. Louisa sat down in a chair facing her cousin.

Her hand at her throat, Elizabeth stared in horror. "What do you mean?" she asked finally. Her low voice still sounded as though she had not used it lately. With effort she kept the blush from rising in her cheeks.

"Just what I said.
According to the servants, the reason Charles left so suddenly was that he heard the rumors that have been circulating about you. Of course, I know they are not true, but they are damaging." Louisa pulled her long lavender muslin sleeve farther over her hand and regarded it closely, too embarrassed to look at Elizabeth while she made the accusation.

When she did look, Elizabeth's face was crimson. Her breath came in gasps. Her cousin, startled, put a hand over her eyes, devastated by the implications of what she saw. "You didn't?" she cried, her face dismayed.

"You don't understand." Elizabeth took a deep breath, trying to control her panic. "I didn't even know he was there until I woke up."

"What are you saying?" By now Louisa's face was a pasty white and her hands were shaking.

"I did spend the night with a man. At least I think I did. But not in the way you mean," she said hurriedly.

Her cousin took a few deep breaths, trying to calm herself. When she felt she had control of her voice, Louisa said harshly, "Tell me everything."

Once again Elizabeth blushed, sending a wave of red from her rounded neckline to her hairline. "I really do not know very much."

"How can you say that? You were in bed with a man. You must have some recollection of how the situation came about!"

"But that is just the point. I don't." Elizabeth reached up to dash tears of anger from her eyes. "When I woke up, he was there." She sank back onto the settee and covered her face with her hands.

"And just who is the 'he' we are discussing?" Louisa
rose
, her back stiff and her voice stern. Though her stomach was rolling with panic and disappointment, no one would have guessed it from her calm exterior.

"Lord Dunstan." The name was said so quietly that Louisa had to strain to hear it.

"How could you?" her cousin asked almost under her breath. Then she said more forcefully, "And the cad left that very day. I suppose he decided that you could handle any problems that rose. You
aren't .
. ?"

"No. Nothing happened, Louisa. At least I do not think it did. I woke up and discovered him in my bed. He hid while the maid made up the fire, and then I helped him leave. No one saw him; I am certain of that. I checked the hallway very carefully, so did
he.
" Elizabeth's voice cracked with emotion. She looked at her cousin with tears in her eyes.

"You apparently did not check closely enough." Louisa sank into a chair again. For a few moments silence filled the room as the cousins regarded each other. Then Louisa asked
,
her voice filled with reproach, "Why didn't you tell me as soon as this happened? I would have helped you. We could have . . ."