The Secret Mistress (25 page)

Angeline laughed, and so did Miss Goddard. But she had expressed very similar ideas about learning to those Lord Heyward had expressed at Vauxhall.
Could
learning ever be exciting?

“Did you want to discuss
Paradise Lost
?” Miss Goddard asked. “It is some time since I read it, but it left a lasting impression upon me and I would be happy to share my thoughts with you.”

She would like it of all things, Angeline thought. She would really love to have a friend with whom she could talk about sensible, intelligent things. But it was not why she had made a point of coming here today. Today she had something else to say—something noble. Today she would do something for someone else, she would be unselfish, and then she would feel better. She needed to feel better. She had spent so many wakeful hours last night telling herself that she had enjoyed herself at the Hicks ball more than she had enjoyed herself on any other occasion in her life that her head had ached with all the happiness, and so had her heart. After this visit she could feel truly happy.

“I really came to talk about the Earl of Heyward,” she said, leaning slightly forward in her chair.

“Oh.” Miss Goddard sat slightly
back
in hers. “Are you regretting that you refused him?”

“No, not at all,” Angeline said, her heart plummeting nevertheless to take up residence in the soles of her shoes. “I want to ask you a question. You must not feel obliged to answer, for of course it is impertinent of me and absolutely none of my concern. But all this business of
ton
alliances and marriages is horridly complicated, you know. Everyone wants to marry well, which means choosing and setting one’s cap at the most eligible
 … other
. I will not say
man
, because it works both ways, though that did not really occur to me
until after I had come to town and made my come-out. I had always thought that it was only we ladies who would be hoping to find the perfect husband, but of course that was shortsighted of me because men have to marry too, for a variety of reasons, and they also want to marry the very best candidate. And the very best, for both men and women, is not necessarily the person they like best. It is often whom their
family
likes best, or who society suggests is best, or who has the most illustrious title and lineage or the most money, provided it has not been acquired in business or commerce, of course, for then it is tainted by vulgarity, just as if money were not simply money. No one even thinks about
love
or the fact that the two people have to
live
together after they marry and make the best of what often turns out to be not a very great bargain at all even if it pleases all the rest of the world. People can be terribly
foolish
, can they not?”

“Far too frequently,” Miss Goddard agreed. “What is your question, Lady Angeline?”

“Well, it is
very
impertinent,” Angeline said. “But I shall ask it anyway since it is what I came here to do. Do you love Lord Heyward, Miss Goddard? I mean, do you
love
him in a way that makes you ache
here
when you think that perhaps you will never have him?” She tapped a closed fist over her heart.

Miss Goddard sat farther back in her chair and set her arms along the armrests. She looked perfectly relaxed—except that the fore- and middle fingers of her right hand were beating out a fast little tattoo.

“Why would you ask such a question?” she asked. “We are friends. We have been for years.”

“But would you
marry
him if he asked?” Angeline asked her.

Miss Goddard opened her mouth once to speak but closed it again. She started once more after a short silence.

“We once had an agreement,” she said, “that we would marry each other at some time in the distant future if nothing happened in the meanwhile to change our minds. Neither of us felt drawn to marriage at the time, though we both recognized that eventually we might see the advisability or the necessity of entering the marital
state rather than remaining single. We were seekers of knowledge at the time, two earnest young people who had not yet felt the pull of the world beyond the pages of a book or the learned confines of Cambridge or the exciting workings of our own minds. Something did happen to change our minds, of course. Edward’s brother died and he became the earl in his place. It made all the difference, you know. Not to
who
he is, but to
what
. And the what
is
important in the real world.”

“But why?” Angeline asked her. “He does not
need
to marry money. At least, I do not
believe
he does, or Tresham would not even have allowed him to speak to me yesterday. He does not need to marry position. All society really demands of him is that he marry respectably. You are eminently respectable, Miss Goddard. You are a lady, and you are refined and sensible and intelligent. And you are his
friend
.”

Miss Goddard smiled.

“Lady Angeline,” she said, “you refused Edward yesterday. Are you trying to
matchmake
for him today?”

Angeline looked down at her hands. It was precisely what she was doing. Though not so much for him as for her new friend, whom she liked exceedingly well. She dearly loved Martha and Maria and hoped they would remain her close friends for the rest of her life, but Miss Goddard was the friend she had always yearned to have. She could not understand quite why it was so. It just
was
. And it hurt her heart to see her friend a wallflower at balls, unseen and unappreciated when she was the equal of anyone and the superior of most. She was
Angeline’s
superior.

“It just struck me,” she said, “that in all likelihood you love him and he loves you and yet he was forced into offering for me. Not
literally
forced, I suppose, but definitely maneuvered by what society expects of him. And by his family too, even though they are very pleasant people. I believe they actually
like
me and genuinely believed that I would be the best possible wife for him. But it is
you
he ought to marry. It is you he
must
marry. When he strolled about the ballroom with you last evening after supper—after you danced with
Lord Windrow—you looked very
right
together. As if you belonged with each other.”

“He certainly thought
you
looked very happy,” Miss Goddard said.

“Oh,” Angeline said. “I
was
happy. Quite blissfully so. I have never enjoyed an evening so well in my life.”

She looked down at her hands again. And instead of picking up the conversation, Miss Goddard let it rest. The silence stretched. Angeline looked up again after what must have been a full minute.

“I just want to be your friend,” she said, “if that does not strike you as being too utterly absurd. I thought we might walk together in the park occasionally or go to the library together or spend a little while in each other’s company if we are attending the same entertainment. But I also want you to know that I will not find it awkward if you wish to encourage Lord Heyward’s suit. I will not feel you are somehow betraying me—if you accept my friendship, that is. Indeed, I would be very happy for you. I—Oh, dear, I have no right to be saying any of this. And the very idea that you would wish to be my friend—”

“Lady Angeline.” Miss Goddard leaned forward suddenly and reached out a hand in Angeline’s direction. “I grew up in Cambridge with my father and my brother—my mother died when I was six. I grew up surrounded by men. In many ways it was a wonderful upbringing. I was allowed to read anything I wanted and to listen to endlessly stimulating conversations and drink in knowledge to my heart’s content. I knew no girls of my own age—I never went to school. Now I am here with my aunt, too old to mingle easily with girls of your age, too young to settle into a resigned spinsterhood. I am not poor or of lowly birth, but neither am I really a member of the
ton
except as the niece of Lady Sanford. I have never had a come-out. I do not have a bright and sparkling personality to be noticed when I
do
mingle in society. I do not wish to paint an abject picture of myself. I have always been very content with my lot in life. I have been privileged in many ways. Although I did not have governesses or go to school, I believe my own education to have
been an excellent one. It was certainly one that always excited me. But Lady Angeline, I believe I have
always
longed for a female friend.”

“Even one with a head full of fluff?” Angeline asked her.

“Your governesses ought to have been boiled in oil,” Miss Goddard said.

They both laughed.

“I like you exceedingly well,” Miss Goddard said. “If I wish to consort with intellectual giants I will return to my father’s home and consort to my heart’s content. I would like to have a
friend
, even if we must discuss
Paradise Lost
.”

And they both laughed again—at just the moment the parlor door opened and the Earl of Heyward was ushered in by a servant careless enough not to have come first to see if Miss Goddard was home.

He stood arrested in the doorway.

Angeline’s heart leapt up into her throat and then dived again for the soles of her shoes. It was a most disconcerting feeling. She stood up—as did Miss Goddard, who crossed the room toward him, both hands extended.

“Edward,” she said, “I have been enjoying a conversation with Lady Angeline Dudley, as you can see. We have both been agreeing that the Hicks ball last evening was a splendid event. Indeed, Lady Angeline believes that she has never enjoyed herself more in her life.”

Angeline smiled brightly.

“It was indeed a fine squeeze,” he said stiffly, keeping his eyes upon Miss Goddard. “I am sorry, Eunice. If I had known you had company, I would have gone away. I will do so now and come back another time.”

“No,” Angeline said, “I was just leaving. You must sit down, Lord Heyward. Not that it is my place to offer you a seat in Miss Goddard’s house—well, Lady Sanford’s house, but she is from home at the moment and so it is Miss Goddard’s place to tell guests where they may sit and
if
they may sit. But you must not feel obliged to curtail
your visit just because I am here. I have stayed far too long already, and I daresay Miss Goddard is wishing me to perdition. I shall … go.”

“Lady Angeline came alone,” Miss Goddard said, looking only at the earl. “Her maid is indisposed. I shall send my own maid with her.”

“Oh, no—” Angeline began.

Lord Heyward fixed her with his very blue gaze. It looked ever so slightly hostile.

“Lady Angeline,” he said, “it will be my pleasure to escort you home. I am surprised that the Duke of Tresham and Lady Palmer allowed you to leave Dudley House alone.”

“Oh, they did not know,” she said, “and I have no intention of telling them. They would scold for a fortnight. I am quite capable of walking alone, however. I have not noticed footpads lurking on every corner, have you?”

His stare became icy.

“I will escort you home, Lady Angeline,” he said.

He had no business. He had absolutely no business. He was not her father or her brother or her husband or … or her betrothed. He was nothing whatsoever. And it was not even an offer this time. It was a categorical statement, and his glance did not even waver as she gave him the full force of her haughty glare.

“I do think that would be good of you, Edward,” Miss Goddard said.

And Angeline was the first to look away—in order to glance reproachfully at her new friend, who could have used this visit, her aunt being absent, to further her own courtship with the Earl of Heyward.
And
to save her new friend from a blatant instance of male domineering.

“Very well, Lord Heyward,” she said, looking back at him. But she would … Yes, she would. She would be
damned
before she would thank him.

There! She felt marginally better at the shocking language even if it did not find its way past her lips.

Miss Goddard smiled placidly at her.

Traitor! Judas!

———

E
DWARD WAS
NOT
in a good mood.

He had not been even before he arrived at Lady Sanford’s, but at least he had expected a nice quiet, sensible conversation with Eunice. He had expected his visit to feel like balm to the soul. Perhaps she would even consent to take a short walk with him again since it was a sunny, pleasantly warm day.

Instead, here he was out walking with
Lady Angeline Dudley
of all people the day after she had refused his formal marriage offer. She had refused to take his arm, which made walking really quite awkward. And she had dared to give him that same haughty, regal look she had given
Windrow
during that infamous scene just outside Reading. As if
he
was the one behaving with deliberate lack of discretion.
No
proper young lady set foot outdoors without a chaperon or trustworthy companion.

I have not noticed footpads lurking on every corner, have you?
As if they advertised the fact upon large boards carried about their necks. And as if footpads were the only danger. Had she learned
nothing
from her experience at the Rose and Crown?

He was feeling downright irritable. And somehow, grossly unfairly, in the wrong, as though he owed her some sort of apology. He had not told her he loved her—as if those words
meant
anything. Why should one feel guilty for telling the truth? The world had turned all topsy-turvy. It had been a far simpler place when he was merely Mr. Edward Ailsbury.

“Does Tresham employ no other servants than your own personal maid?” he said, breaking the silence between them even though he had sworn to himself that he would not. “And is this the same personal maid who was conspicuously absent from the taproom at the Rose and Crown Inn a month or so ago? Is she often indisposed?”

His voice sounded as irritated as he felt.

“If this is a veiled comment upon my behavior, Lord Heyward,” she said, “I must inform you that it is none of your business.
I
am none of your business.”