The Duke's Messenger (22 page)

“Oh, Aunt, that’s just it! I must tell you —” She proceeded to relate the events of the hours just past. She had barely finished when her brother joined them. She half rose from her chair. “How is —”

“Fine,” reported Tom with relief. “Only two or three days in bed will be required before he can resume his duties with you. Aston is staying with him now.” He turned to Phrynie. “Aunt! I am delighted to see you. Has my sister imposed so much upon you that you left that delightful house in Mount Street for a pleasure jaunt?”

“Coxcomb! I do not know where you learned such very
nice
manners, but they do not suit you.”

“Very well, Aunt. I was hoping, you know, to win your approval, which I prize most highly.”

“My approval would have been given gladly,” she told him, “had you made yourself available in London a fortnight since.”

“I do not quite understand, Aunt? I know that Arthur Haveney wanted me, and indeed that is why I did not listen to Whitcomb. Can you believe he told me at first that you had gone into Essex for the holidays?”

“He was to tell anyone so who inquired. I did expect him to have sufficient wit to know you were to hear the truth.”

“At any rate,” he said genially, “I am here now. What did you need me for? I am persuaded that you are far better able to deal socially with the
ton
than ever I could.”

“Nell did not tell you?”

“She did say something about an offer, but I could not make sense of it.”

“Pray do not speak of me as though I were not here,” Nell interrupted with spirit. “I have indeed had an offer. The gentleman in question was forced to leave London — don’t raise your eyebrow, Tom. He left on
business
.”

“A Cit? I cannot credit this!”

She went on as though he had not spoken. “If you had been where you were supposed to be, he would have gained your permission, and our betrothal would by now have been reported in the
Gazette
. But no — you had to buy a horse from Charlie Puckett —” She broke off. She heard her voice echoing in her ears and realized how right Reeves had been — they were indeed squabbling like children in the nursery. She sank back in her chair and swallowed. It was never easy for her to admit she was wrong. Nonetheless, when such apology was required, she managed handsomely. “I’m sorry, Tom. I had no right to ring a peal over you.”

“Yes, you did,” retorted Phrynie, in her forthright manner. “If you have lost him because of Tom’s dereliction, I shall never forgive him.” She reflected a moment. “Forgive Tom, that is.”

“Lost him? What kind of buffoon would not come up to the mark simply because I was out of town? Nell, who is this idiot?”

Chapter Twenty-One

She favored her brother with a glance of dark warning. “Promise me you will not speak with foolish impulse, and call him an idiot.”

“Very well, I promise. But that will not signify, if he really is an idiot.”

“He is not. He is the most handsome man on earth, and he is so civil, so graceful, so devoted to his government duty — “

Tom gave vent to a smothered oath. “I was right! I cannot believe I am right. Nell, you couldn’t — you’re speaking of Foxhall! Is she, Aunt? Could she possibly be attracted to
him
? A posturing nonentity?”

He found his answer in Lady Sanford’s expression. “I was right. He is an — I promised, however, didn’t I? And that word, so apt in description, shall not pass my lips. Nell, I cannot agree that you and Foxhall would suit.”

“Your sister,” Phrynie pointed out, “has a strong affection for him. And she could do worse, you know.”

Tom had leaped to his feet and begun to pace the small sitting room. “Of course she could,” he agreed handsomely, but loudly. “If she looked hard enough for a witless wonder, perhaps, like Abercrombie, or fortune hunter like Soames!”

“If you did not trust me, Tom, I wonder you did not come yourself to Town and winnow out all those undesirables,” suggested Phrynie acidly.

Nell rose from her chair. Had she come this far on the pretext of the parcel, to be with dear Rowland — had she been by mischance forced to burgle a nobleman’s residence, threatened to shoot any manner of villains, disguised herself and hired a wagon and horses, been attacked even by her own brother, only to have him tell her he would not approve her betrothal? Not Nell Aspinall, she thought, and advanced on her brother.

“Tom, give me one good reason…”

Lady Sanford abstracted herself from what bade fair to develop into a pointless but noisy argy-bargy and gave herself over to reflection. She had noted before, without real alarm, that Nell’s constant preoccupation with Foxhall seemed to have waned. She believed now that Nell’s indignation with her brother was due at least in part to her failure to get her own way.

But it was, of course, entirely possible that Foxhall still held undisputed sway in the girl’s affections, and in the most practical aspect, Nell could do much worse than to wed the handsome and wealthy Lord Foxhall. Phrynie’s lips twisted wryly. Not every marriage was happy, and not every match was impeccable. Nell’s choice seemed at least well above the average.

An exclamation from Nell brought Phrynie abruptly back to the present. “Dear Rowland will insist upon your approval!”

“And rightly so,” countered Tom. “But you seem to have all but given him your answer without my permission. What if I had not appeared now?”

“I would have thought of something!”

“One might think you would already have thought of something better than Foxhall!”

“I am devoted to him,” Nell told him loftily.

Phrynie watched the exchange closely. It would not be the first time she was called on to play referee.

“I have not kept close enough watch on you,” confessed Tom.

“What good would that have done? Do you have another suitor in mind? One of Rowland’s position, perhaps, or a more prestigious title, a greater income? I think not.”

He stared at her until she looked away, flushing. “I did not know these mattered to you.”

“Of course they matter,” Nell flung at him. “Do you think I would be happy to cast off all my friends? Would I be content to live in a two-room cottage in a village, the wife of a blacksmith perhaps? No need then for me to cut my former acquaintance, for they would be the first to ignore my existence. Is that what you wish for me?”

Suddenly Nell noticed that both her near relations were staring at her in some surprise. She knew she was protesting too much, was too eloquent on a question which was — which had to be — purely fanciful. Indeed, she did not know quite where her protests had come from. She had no intention whatever of marrying a blacksmith. But she was certainly not going to give up Foxhall.

Phrynie took a hand in the discussion. “We have three days, so you informed me, before Reeves can travel. I am sure we may have a much more fruitful discussion of this subject at a more appropriate hour. Tom will give his approval, I am sure.”

She cast a speaking glance at her nephew.

“All I want, Nell, is for you to be happy,” he mumbled.

“I know, Tom,” said Nell, subdued and truthful. But she was much distressed in her mind on more than one head.

“Nell, you are exhausted, and it is hours since you ate,” Phrynie continued. “Tom, I do not know your circumstances, but I should like to think you have traveled hard to overtake us and would be glad of a rest. Not another word until at least we have had dinner. I am heartily weary of the subject of Foxhall.”

She sent Nell up to dress for dinner. Receiving a significant glance from his aunt, Tom lingered. “Do you really disapprove of Foxhall?”

“He’s all right, I suppose, if you want a statue of a Greek god to stand in the-foyer. I cannot see him making Nell happy.”

“In truth,” said Phrynie, reluctantly, “nor can I. But she may well be happy as most women.”

“I want more than that for her,” said Tom simply.

“Then what will you do?”

For perhaps the first time in his life, Tom stunned his aunt with his capacity for shrewd perception. “Nothing,” he said. “If I disapproved, she’d be all the more determined to carry him off to the Austrian counterpart of Gretna Green. She has to be handled very carefully, anchored down to keep her from haring off with unknown parcels, to say nothing of some very strange incidents she mentioned and which I don’t want to credit. And quite simply, I don’t believe Foxhall has the wit to manage her.”

“And I suppose you know someone who can?”

He looked levelly at her. “Yes,” he told her, “I do.”

Her thoughts flew as fast as his. But she refused to believe her own perceptions. He could not mean — and even if he did, she would fight such a result with all her formidable wits.

She smoothed out the wrinkles on her forehead, lest they become permanent. How very tumultuous she was finding life with the younger generation!

*

Relations between Nell and her brother were far from cordial for the rest of the day. But Nell’s affection for him was strongly engaged, and it was not long before she regarded him again with fondness.

So rapt had she been by the need to obtain Tom’s permission to marry dear Rowland that she had all but forgotten the parcel in the heat of argument. She must give it to Tom at once.

Unfortunately, to place the parcel in the hands it was originally destined for had disadvantages. She was beginning to realize that her brother was possessed of an inconvenient curiosity, in addition to an uncomfortable clarity of vision when it came to her. She had no choice. She must turn the parcel over to Tom and sustain his close questioning.

Ever the practical planner, she decided to make a virtue of what she could not avoid. If there were to be condemnations, then it was better to have them done with in a hostelry somewhere in the uncharted wilderness called Germany.

For a moment she envied Lady Hester Stanhope, last heard from in early October heading an expedition to Baalbec, far away from family censure.

Alone with him in their private sitting room, she unburdened herself. Tom listened with gratifyingly rapt interest.

“I wondered, you know,” he said at last. “You were most open about your journey as far as Paris. I expected a romp, of course, for you cannot behave well for more than a fortnight.”

“Tom! That’s not true! And even if it is, you must agree that I could do nothing else. And I have not enjoyed this — this expedition in the least.”

“Now there, dear Nell, you are bamming me. You have enjoyed every moment.”

She chuckled. “I will admit it was not something I had a great deal of experience in, you know.” It occurred to her that Tom was not as surprised at her narration as she expected. “He told you!”

“He?”

“Reeves, of course. Tom, I shall be really provoked if you turn him in. It was my fault, you know. Reeves only helped me.” In a burst of honesty, she added, “But I did wonder how he had learned such deftness in criminal matters.”

Tom was amused. “Tell me, Nell,” he said eventually, “why did you take the parcel in the first place? It couldn’t have been — no, pray don’t tell me that you had in mind a journey to Vienna for the sole purpose of joining that —” Remindful of his promise, he substituted, “that impressive diplomatist?”

Nell had endured enough. She had held up admirably throughout this entire anxious time. She had stooped to criminality, had sustained frights, alarms, and a good deal of physical hardship. And nothing was turning out as she expected!

She put her hands to her face, and began to weep. Tom was deeply moved. “Come on, Nell, don’t turn into a watering pot,” he said crossly. “I’m not going to ring a peal over you. What’s done is done. I merely asked why.”

Muffled words reached him. “You know wh-why.”

“You have told me about Foxhall, I admit that. But still the why of it escapes me. Lord knows I can’t see the fellow, but if he can make you happy, he’ll have my blessing.” If he had mental reservations, like those he had indeed expressed to Lady Sanford, no one could have discerned the fact. “But if he is entirely devoted to you, can you not trust him?”

“Trust him!” Nell turned watery eyes to her brother. “Of course I trust him.” She sniffed. “But Aunt Phrynie said that Miss Freeland will be in Vienna, and you know she has expected him to offer for her this long time, and I just — thought —”

Tom took pity on her, and finished her sentence. “You thought the parcel would be an excuse to get to Vienna. I am persuaded that Aunt Phrynie would not take you to Vienna simply to be at Foxhall’s side.”

“Oh, no, Tom, she wouldn’t. Nor did I really expect her to do so. But I do love him.” She considered for a moment. Deciding that perhaps the tone of her voice was a bit flat to convey her emotional message, she added, “Overwhelmingly.”

Clearly Tom still had misgivings. “Do you?” he said skeptically. “And what do you think he will say when you arrive in Vienna?”

She looked at him in surprise. “Why, he’ll say —”

“Will he be pleased that you cannot live without him?’

“I am sure he will not,” she said sadly. “He must be so very proper, you know, for Lord Castlereagh is excessively strict.” She sighed. “Tom, I have made such a coil of it all!”

He agreed entirely. He regarded his sister, though, with a tenderness that surprised him. He had taken her far too much for granted, he realized, and while he had not been watching, she had grown into a very appealing young woman. Suddenly, with great fierceness, he was determined that no harm should come to her. If her happiness lay with Foxhall, even though he had doubts on more than one front, he would do his best to help her achieve it.

But, having made that resolve, he immediately took exception to it. After all, the primary word was if — as in
if
her happiness lay with Foxhall.

“So you have the parcel to give him the reason for your arrival in Vienna. Just how will you explain the existence of this parcel which is to be delivered in the greatest secrecy?”

Her expression informed him fully. She had not in the slightest degree thought of such a barrier. Of course she could not arrive in Vienna, parading the parcel through the streets. Unwittingly she had come to the same conclusion as the Duke of Whern some time back: “Might as well send it across Europe announced by silver trumpets and a detachment of Household Guards.”

“Oh — !”

“You see, Nell,” he said gently, “there is still something to be considered. If I arrive with you and Aunt Phrynie in Vienna, no matter how proper our little entourage is, it could be viewed in an unfavorable light.”

“How can it be? My brother and my aunt — surely we have the privilege of traveling where we will?”

He waited. Nell’s wits were sharp enough to show her the interpretation that could be placed on her action. It took very little time, before she exclaimed, as a thought hitherto absent thrust itself on her, “Will he think I have brought you to him simply to receive his offer for me?”

Tom appeared to give the suggestion some consideration. “I do not know him quite well enough. But, Nell, will he not believe you if you tell him that our meeting was more or less by chance? Tell him the truth?”

Her silence told him more than he wished to know. If Foxhall dared to disbelieve his sister, he himself would ram the truth down that gentleman’s handsome throat.

She turned suddenly practical. “He might believe me, and in truth I think he will. But we may trust Miss Freeland to suggest the unthinkable!”

“Unthinkable?” Tom laughed.

“Well,” she said, reluctantly smiling, “at least one hopes it is unthinkable to dear Rowland that I would hare after him.”

They talked a little longer. Nell worried that the parcel might not arrive in time. “For we have been delayed a bit, in Calais and Paris, and now here. And of course, I think Reeves is not convinced that all danger is past. You know when that — that attack on the road happened, he insisted I take the parcel to safety. But,” she finished blithely, “with you and Aston to add to our protection, we will be safe enough.”