My Unfair Lady (33 page)

   "You can't possibly think to return to London with those animals?" asked Lady Banfour.

   Summer's mouth opened, then closed. Would she have to give up her critters too? Yes, she decided. She'd have to give up everything in order to become a new person. Hadn't she told herself that this very morning? "I can't leave them here. My friend Maria will care for them for me. She's staying with the Baron of Hanover, and I thought if you'd be so kind, we could pick her up before catching the train to London and…"

   "No, no, my dear. That simply will not do. You cannot have that gypsy woman tagging along with you in London again, much less with your stray animals too. There will be shopping to do, and fittings, and of course some visits, and even a few balls… We wouldn't want anything to go wrong before your presentation, now would we?"

   Summer found herself shaking her head. This woman whom she'd always found herself at odds with was now taking control of her life. If she hadn't been convinced that Lady Banfour wanted Summer's presentation as badly as she did, she'd never have gone with her.

   Cook had started to cry, and Bernard had silently slipped out of the room.

   Summer ignored them. "But we can drop my critters off with Maria, can't we? I need to explain to her what's happened."

   Lady Banfour graciously nodded her head. "We'd best be off, then."

   "Cook," said Summer, "will you hug Lionel good-bye for me? And tell him… tell him I'll miss him. Very much."

   Cook sobbed and hid her face in her apron. Lady Banfour sighed in exasperation and steered Summer out of the room, out of the house, and into her carriage. Summer kept hoping that Byron would reap pear and at least bid her farewell, and craned her neck out of the carriage window. The Apache inside of her wanted to jump out that window and stride back into that dreary castle.

   "Summer," chided Lady Banfour, "it's most unseemly for a lady to be hanging out a window."

   Summer pulled back inside. It was time that the Apache inside of her disappeared.

   "And for mercy's sake, will you get this monkey out of my hair?"

BY THE TIME THEY REACHED THE HOME OF LORD BALKETT, Summer felt ready to throttle Lady Banfour. She did nothing but complain about the bumps in the road, what a cold autumn they were having, and what a nuisance the animals were. Summer had to constantly remind herself that she had to emulate this woman, not choke her.

   Summer stared out the window at the immaculately groomed estate of the Baron of Hanover. His country house was more of a mansion, and although it had beautiful marble columns and balconies trimmed with white scrolled iron and clean windows, Summer still thought the duke's decrepit castle far more impressive.

   A black-haired girl in a gown colored a violent shade of green burst through the massive front doors as the carriage came to a stop in the circular drive. Summer threw open the carriage door, forgetting to let the footman lower the steps, and leaped to the cobblestones, flying into Maria's open arms.

   They danced around each other until Summer heard Lady Banfour clear her throat in disdain, and she immediately stopped.

"Who's that?" asked Maria. "And where's Byron?"

   Summer stepped away from her friend and folded her hands loosely in front of her. "You remember the Lady Banfour from the prince's party, don't you?"

   Maria scowled and placed her hands on her hips. "Why are ya' acting so prissy? And where is he?"

   "His Grace," interrupted Lady Banfour, stressing his formal title, "asked me to help him gain a presentation for Summer, which I have done. He didn't want me to think he was marrying me for my money, you see. And now he'll have the payment from his agreement with Summer. I'm sure he's still at Cliffs Castle, making the home suitable for us."

   Maria's mouth fell open.

   "Furthermore," the lady continued, "Summer will have no need of your… companionship in London. I will be fulfilling that role until her presentation. We have only stopped to deliver these abominable creatures to you."

   Summer winced, but dug Chi-chi and Rosey from her pockets and handed them to Maria, trying not to feel envious when they licked Maria's face with joy. A weight lifted from her shoulder when India sprang from it to Maria's to join in the fun.

   Maria spoke with her lips half-closed, trying to keep pink tongues out of her mouth. "Well, ya' can spend the night, at least, before going on yore way. I'm sure Lady Banfour's tuckered out."

   "Ladies do find traveling to be trying on the nerves." Lady Banfour fanned her face, and Summer tried to look wilted as well.

   They spent a lovely evening with Lord Balkett and his sister. Summer watched Lady Banfour with injun-eyes, emulating everything the woman did, realizing that there was more to being a lady than just having the right clothes. When the other woman picked up a glass with pinky finger outstretched, so did she. When she laughed with only a tinkle of sound, so did Summer. When she picked at her food, wrinkling her nose at game that Summer longed to dig into, she reluctantly did the same.

   Summer charmed everyone but Maria; even Lady Banfour threw her glances of approval, especially when Summer ordered the critters out of the dining room.

   When Summer crawled into bed that evening, and Maria barged into her room, she realized how opposite of being charmed her friend actually was.

   "What'd ya' do with my friend Summer?" demanded Maria.

   "She doesn't exist anymore."

   Maria rolled her eyes. "Is that what ya' really believe? That posing as a lady will make ya' a different person? That it'll erase yore past as if it never were?"

   "It's what Monte wants."

   "So ya' keep saying." Maria sighed and sat on the silk spread next to Summer. "But I figured the duke to be smarter'n that. What happened?"

   Summer laid back down on the feather pillows. "You heard Lady Banfour. He asked her to help him get my presentation so they could get married."

   "Maybe he did," Maria said. "In the beginning, before he knew he was in love with ya'. But don't ya' see everything's changed now?"

   Summer stroked India's head and widened the gap between her legs so that Chi-chi and Rosey would be more comfortable where they snuggled up between the warmth of her calves. Tonight would be her last night with them, and even though she could take Chi-chi with her back to London, the poor dog would be so miserable without her Rosey that Summer didn't have the heart to do it.

   "Nothing has changed, Maria. I made a vow to Monte, and I have to honor it."

   "Hogwash. Yore just using that as an excuse to run away from yoreself." She sighed and lifted the silk bedspread. "Scooch over."

   Maria crawled into bed next to Summer, like they used to do when they were girls, whispering far into the night about their innermost thoughts. Summer smiled at the memory and breathed in the spicy, sweet smell that Maria's skin exuded. Her friend blew out the lantern, plunging the cheerful guest bedroom into half darkness, only the flickering light of the fire illuminating their faces.

   "Do ya' think," whispered Maria, "that yore the only one who has something in their past they'd like to forget?"

   Summer froze. "Are you going to tell me now?"

   "Tell ya' what?"

   "About whatever it is that makes your eyes cloud with some dark thought at times. Do you think I haven't noticed that you've kept a secret from me?"

   "No," sighed Maria. "But I appreciate that ya' haven't nagged me about it."

   Summer curled her fingers into Maria's hand. "I was waiting until you were ready to tell me."

   "I won't ever be ready, but… I think it'll help ya' to know."

   Maria squeezed her fingers, and Summer held her friend's hand even tighter.

   "Mama liked to drink," started Maria. "No, I don't think she liked to… I think she had to. It made it easier for her… when the men… ya' know."

   Summer nodded.

   "Anyways, that's how she died, drinking whiskey; she fell down the stairs late one night. And I wasn't sorry, Summer. That woman never should've been a mama, and she reminded me every day that I was a mistake she wished she'd never made. If it weren't for the sweetness of the rest of the ladies…"

   Summer couldn't ever remember seeing Maria cry, and she didn't want to now, so she stared at the ceiling, trying to ignore the tears that rolled down her friend's face.

   "When I became a woman," continued Maria, "and I started the bleeding, Mama went into a rage. She took on twenty-two men that night—a record for Hafford's Saloon—and it still didn't quiet the rage in her. So she came after me."

   Summer could hear Maria panting, could feel her body quiver next to her own. Tarnation, she didn't want her friend to be going through this, reliving something that's best forgotten. "Don't tell me. It hurts you too much."

   "That's the point, Summer Wine. Unless ya' face yore fears, ya'll be running away from them forever."

   Summer lay still for a moment, watching the fire making shadows on the walls, listening to the gentle snores of the critters snuggled up next to her. Lord Balkett's guest room was quite pleasant, as was the rest of his home. Maria would be happy here, and Summer felt a pang of loneliness at the thought. Whom would she share her soul with when she returned to New York?

   When Maria spoke again, her voice shook. "Mama stood over my pallet for the longest time with a poker in her hand. I pretended to be asleep, 'cause it wasn't the first time she'd lit into me. I could smell the whiskey on her breath and the sweat of the men who'd been on her body, and prayed that she'd go away. But she started mumbling about not letting me make the same mistake she had. And she took my legs… I fought her Summer, but she was stronger'n a horse… and she took that poker… took it and made sure I'd never have any babies of my own."

   Maria inhaled a great, shaky breath. "She passed out, and I would've bled to death if Lotty and Maisy hadn't heard my screams and torn down the door."

   Summer's own tears now streamed down her cheeks. "I'm so sorry, Maria."

   Her friend shrugged, as if now that she'd gotten the story out, she didn't hurt as much anymore. "Nothing to be sorry about. Bad things happen to good people, Summer. And sometimes even good people have to do bad things."

   Summer tossed her head on the pillows. "I can't ever bring that man I killed back to life. I wonder sometimes if he had a family, and how they felt when he didn't come home."

   Maria let out a great, long sigh. "That man would've killed ya' unless ya' shot him first. Ya' didn't have a choice."

   "But I do now, and I choose to be a lady. Not a knife-toting, gun-shooting savage."

   The fire popped in the silence that followed. "Well, I tried," muttered Maria.

   Summer's eyes closed as sleep stole over her. She appreciated what Maria had tried to do, but there was no comparison between what had happened to herself and Maria. She had a choice, and Maria hadn't. But oh, how she was going to miss her friend. Would the people she loved always leave her?

Lady Banfour insisted on living in Summer's town house when they returned to London, to make sure "nothing went wrong," and Summer agreed, watching and copying the woman's every move. The days flew by with a flurry of shopping (which she learned was an art), visits to museums, afternoon calls (where she learned the trick of talking for hours and not saying anything at all), watching the opera (where she learned to sleep with her eyes open), and of course, the balls.

   Summer had never been so completely bored, or miserable, in her entire life.

   Tonight they attended a ball given by the Dowager Duchess of Monchester, and Summer couldn't help but remember that Byron had been with her the last time she'd been in this mansion. She missed the sight of him with a dull kind of ache, and the thought that she might see him tonight had her heart flipping over at the sight of any blond head.

   
Ridiculous,
she scolded herself. Tomorrow she would be presented to the Queen, and thoughts of all the rules she must remember and her very real fear of tripping on the voluminous gown that Lady Banfour had picked out for her had to be the reason for her racing pulse.

   A sharp elbow jabbed in her in the ribs, and Lady Banfour hissed in her ear, "Goodness, tomorrow is your presentation, and after all the work I've done, you will not ruin it at this late date."

   Summer blinked, collected herself, while Lady Banfour's voice changed to that softly sweet timbre as she turned to the Dowager Duchess of Monchester—who had obviously asked Summer a question and awaited a reply—and complimented the stately woman on the color of her gown. Summer smiled weakly, but managed to nod and do a half curtsy without further embarrassing herself and wondered what the woman had asked her.

   Then she stood before Lord Karlton, who smirked at her, the gaslight reflecting through his thinning hair to the shiny bald pate beneath, and he slobbered on her gloves again. Summer tried not to grimace but grace fully turned to extend her hand to Lady Karlton.