The Waltzing Widow (22 page)
Lady Mary gestured urgently for him to be seated. “Of course, my lord! We have been anxiously awaiting just such news,” she said.
Lord Kenmare said gravely, “Bonaparte beat von Blücher so soundly last night that all communication between the latter and his grace the Duke of Wellington was cut off. Under the circumstances the duke was obliged to fall back and take up another position."
"Thank God! We had heard that our troops were routed and hotly pursued by the French.'’ Lady Mary gave a small laugh. “Most of the night Abigail and I half-expected at any moment to be interrupted in our slumbers by the enemy, while all our household kept wringing their hands over the report of our defeat."
Lord Kenmare grimaced slightly. “The Belgians apparently cannot be brought to an understanding of the difference in a total rout and an orderly retreat."
"We had heard also that the French were less than a half-hour's march away,” Abigail said.
Lord Kenmare smiled reassuringly at her still-anxious expression. “It appears that a foraging party of French came bravadoing to the gates of the city, demanding its surrender. So you see, it was indeed all a false alarm. Actually, the news is more encouraging than not. Though our troops were attacked by such tremendous superiority of numbers and fought under every possible disadvantage, they completely repulsed the enemy and remained masters of the field."
"Then Grandpapa and Grandmama need not have left so precipitately as they did!” Abigail exclaimed in regret.
"There will be a desperate battle on the morrow, will there not?” Lady Mary asked quietly.
The earl nodded in reply, but his frowning attention was focused on Abigail."Miss Spence, did you say that the viscount and viscountess have fled Brussels?"
Abigail nodded, not noticing her mother's warning shake of her head. “Yes, they left us just before your own arrival."
Lord Kenmare looked at Lady Mary. “And will you and your daughter also be leaving Brussels, my lady?"
"I wish to stay at least until the battle tomorrow is thoroughly joined. I hope to hear news of my son, you see,” Lady Mary said.
The earl nodded his understanding. He appeared to reflect deeply for a moment before he said abruptly, “Lady Mary, I am uneasy that you and Miss Spence are now without someone who may be trusted to look after your protection. In view of the viscount's absence, I offer myself and my household in that capacity."
Lady Mary was touched by his concern. “I do thank you for your most kind consideration, my lord. Abigail and I shall rest easier in the knowledge that we may call upon you."
"You do not precisely take my meaning, my lady. I feel most strongly that you and Miss Spence should come to the safety of my roof,” Lord Kenmare said. He saw from her expression that he had greatly startled her, and he bent forward to take her hand. “Pray do not misunderstand me, Lady Mary. There is nothing improper in what I propose. I simply believe that my staff, who are all my own and traveled with me from England, may be better relied upon than a household in a leased residence."
Abigail sat as though struck to stone by the extraordinary conversation. She had never heard a gentleman voice such an invitation. She was quite positive that her grandmother would have summarily dismissed the earl's suggestion as the grossest impropriety, and she waited curiously and with bated breath for her mother's reaction. She thought, judging from her mother's expression, she was not to be disappointed.
Lady Mary's delicately winged brows had risen a fraction. She withdrew her fingers from Lord Kenmare's light hold. When she spoke, her voice, though friendly, was cool. “Perhaps there is something in what you say regarding the loyalty of one's own staff, my lord. However, I hardly think such a step to be necessary, and though I do thank you for your concern, I must decline your most obliging invitation."
Lord Kenmare knew himself to be firmly rebuffed. He bowed stiffly from the waist. “I must accede to your wishes, of course,” he said. He left soon afterward.
A short time later, a note was brought in by the butler. Lady Mary took it, wondering aloud from whom it could be. She unfolded the note and read it quickly. Then she sat frowning, her eyes unseeing.
Abigail could scarcely bear her own curiosity. “Well, Mama? What does it say?"
Lady Mary came out of her reverie. She said quietly, “Lady Cecily begs me to reconsider my decision and to come to them. She says that with her time approaching so soon, she would feel less anxious with us there in the house."
Abigail thought about it. “Lord Kenmare is rather clever, isn't he?"
"Yes, quite clever,” Lady Mary said. She did not sound as though she was entirely admiring of his lordship. However, a rueful smile suddenly lit her gray eyes. “Well, Abby, it appears that we shall be removing to the earl's house in the park after all."
"Most improper,” Abigail said primly.
"Yes, most,” Lady Mary agreed.
Abigail giggled. “I shan't ever breathe a word about it to Grandmama, I promise."
"I do hope that you won't. The viscountess has very clear notions on what makes and unmakes a lady's reputation. I do not think she would approve at all of this little aberration from propriety,” Lady Mary said, pulling the bell rope.
Upon the footman's entrance, she requested that he carry a reply to Lady Cecily Wilson-Jones, informing her ladyship that she and Abigail would come. Then Lady Mary alerted the staff of her plans and asked her maid to oversee the packing for both herself and Miss Abigail. They would naturally precede the arrival of the maid and their belongings at the Kenmare town house.
Lady Mary and Abigail attended to their toilets, to meet again in the front hall a little over an hour later. Lady Mary had changed into a fresh gown, putting on over it an ankle-length carriage dress to protect her gown from the rain. She wore a lavishly trimmed poke bonnet, and kid gloves completed her outfit. Abigail was similarly attired.
The porter respectfully informed the ladies that the carriage was at the curb. The servant ran ahead of them down the front steps so that he could open the carriage door and hand them in. Lady Mary and Abigail settled themselves on the carriage seat, the door was firmly closed, and the carriage jerked into motion.
Upon their arrival at the town house in the park, the ladies were shown immediately into the drawing room, where Lady Cecily awaited them. She was reclining on a settee and her expression appeared more tired than either lady had ever before seen on her countenance. She held out her hand first to Lady Mary, then to Abigail, and gestured for them to make themselves comfortable.
"I am so glad that you felt able to come to us after all,” she said. “I was never more annoyed in my life when Robert related to me how he had botched things with you."
Lady Mary gave her hostess an inquiring look. “Am I to understand that it was originally your wish to have us here?"
"I must confess that it was not. I shan't disguise that from you. But I saw instantly how wonderful it would be and so I sent off my note posthaste. His lordship shall be both surprised and pleased to find that you and Abigail have taken advantage of our hospitality after all,” Lady Cecily said.
The door opened and the butler stepped inside. “Yes, Briggs? What is it?” Lady Cecily asked. She was informed that luncheon was waiting to be served and she nodded. She smiled at Lady Mary and Abigail as she rose from the settee. “I know that you shall wish to put off your bonnets and carriage dresses first, so I shall have a footman show you up to your rooms. I assume that your baggage is not long behind you?"
"My maid should arrive with it shortly,” Lady Mary said, rising as well.
Lady Cecily glanced at Abigail as she walked with her visitors to the drawing-room door. “And your maid, Miss Spence?"
"Pray call me Abigail, my lady,” Abigail invited, and was rewarded with a nodding smile from Lady Cecily. She shook her head. “My maid left Brussels with my grandparents this morning, so I suppose that I shall be sharing Beatrice for the moment."
"My brother naturally told me that the viscount and viscountess had fled. I imagine that it was a most painful parting,'’ Lady Cecily said. She glanced quickly at Lady Mary's face, expecting to discover some hint of lingering distress. But Lady Mary only shook her head, a faint smile curving her lips.
Abigail nodded in agreement. “Oh, indeed, my lady! When they came to tell us, we had just come in from tending the wounded in the street. Mama, it has only just occurred to me how fortunate it was that you had time to change out of your bloodied gown before Grandmama—"
"Bloodied gown?” Lady Cecily threw up her hands. “Not another word, I pray you. I can see that you have much to relate to me. Believe me, I shall await you in the dining room positively agog with curiosity."
Their conversation had long since carried them into the entry hall. The ladies parted. Lady Mary and Abigail to follow a footman upstairs while Lady Cecily entered the dining room. She did not have long to wait, as Lady Mary and Abigail returned almost immediately and took their own places at the table.
While the barley soup was served. Lady Cecily demanded to know all that her friends had done since she had seen them last. Lady Mary allowed Abigail to tell Lady Cecily of their morning, putting in only a few words here and there. The soup bowls had been taken away and the second course of thick-backed here in its own rich brown gravy was served before Abigail was done.
"And so you have turned your house into a hospital,'’ Lady Cecily said, shaking her head in admiration.
"So many are doing the same. One cannot but do other than what one can, when those poor young men are lying about helpless and bleeding. It quite wrung my heart to see it. But there is really so very little that we can do,” Lady Mary said quietly.
"I know precisely what you mean. I have been frustrated beyond measure by my silly spells of weakness these past few days. I have but once managed to go to the church to scrape lint. It quite makes one feel positively useless,” Lady Cecily said. “But at least I have had the garden house opened up and put to use for the wounded. We have also been able to put up some officers in two of the spare rooms. None of ours are seriously wounded, being simply more worn out with fatigue and lack of nourishment, I think, and it is a good thing, too, since we do not have a physician calling upon us regularly."
The door opened. The Earl of Kenmare stood on the threshold a moment, his glance encompassing all three ladies. He slowly entered the dining room. He was white about the mouth and there was such a haggard look in his eyes that Lady Mary at once knew something was terribly, terribly wrong.
Lady Cecily also realized it. She asked sharply, “Robert, what is it?"
The earl glanced at his sister. In a flat, cold voice he said, “Young Lord Hay and the Duke of Brunswick are dead. Their bodies were brought through the town last night."
Lady Cecily stretched out her hand to him."Oh, Robert, no!"
Lady Mary recalled that Lord Kenmare had once mentioned a close friendship with the Duke of Brunswick, and she felt deep pity for his loss. But at the same time she was caught up in terror for her son, William. With each new report of casualties, or at the sight of yet another wounded soldier, her heart had constricted with the always-present fear. She had told her daughter that it was easier not to think of the wounded as individuals, and it was; but that did not stop her from dreading that each hour might bring news of the death of her own son.
Abigail sat transfixed, staring at the earl. She could not seem to grasp the reality of his words. Her merry companion and admirer, Lord Hay, was dead. Then other faces crowded into her mind—William; Captain McInnes; Sir Lionel Corbett; Lord Randol; and all the rest. For the first time in her life she knew what it was to be truly afraid. She felt as though she was going to be ill. With revulsion she pushed away her plate. She said faintly, “Mama..."
Lady Mary turned her head quickly at the queer note in her daughter's voice. Abigail had gone starkly white. At once Lady Mary rose from her place and went around to Abigail's side, putting her own glass of wine to the girl's lips. “Drink, Abby,'’ she said firmly.
Abigail swallowed a small amount of the wine and it seemed to help the horrible spinning in her head. She gasped, “Mama! Lord Hay—he was but seventeen! And William! What if he, too-?"
Lady Mary said fiercely, “Do not even consider it, Abigail. Until we hear otherwise, William is in perfect health. Do you understand?"
"Yes ... yes.” Abigail was illogically relieved by her mother's firm command.
"Robert, did you hear anything about ... anything else at all?” Lady Cecily asked, clutching her brother's fingers tightly.
He held her hand between both of his in a hard grip. “Nothing of Wilson-Jones, Cecily. But as Lady Mary has said, until we do, then we must assume that he is alive and well."
"Of course he is all right,” Lady Cecily said staunchly. Her game smile flickered past the fear in her brown eyes.
"That is my girl,” Lord Kenmare said.
Lady Cecily urged him to sit down and eat with them; but he said that he had to go out again. Lady Cecily did not attempt to detain him. There was a fierceness in his expression that she recognized. While he was in that particular frame of mind, she knew that it would be futile to point out to him that the rain had already darkened his coat and that he ran the danger of becoming ill with renewed soakings.
As the earl went to the door, Abigail started up from the table. “My lord! Pray allow me a moment,” she begged.
Lord Kenmare raised his brows, a hint of impatience in his face. But he nodded courteously enough. “Of course, Miss Spence."
He held the door for her to precede him, and before it fell shut again, Lady Mary was startled to behold her daughter catching urgent hold of the earl's hands, obviously in some sort of appeal. The earl shook his head at something Abigail said and then the door closed to shut off her view. Lady Mary wondered, with a queer feeling in her breast, what her daughter could possibly have to say to the Earl of Kenmare that was of such an intimate nature, for there had been no doubt that Abigail had spoken quite familiarly to him.
