Twixt Two Equal Armies (28 page)

“Lord Baugham, you are entirely
too
skilled at flattery,” she lightly jested. “No wonder your life elsewhere is so full of complications. I shouldn’t wonder if they were all of the female variety.”

I
T HAD BEEN A PERFECTLY
pleasant moment, Baugham reflected, standing there with such unexpected company, chatting away as one does in ball rooms all the time, but some unhappy recollections now intruded on this pleasant scene. While in residence, he was perfectly happy with his way of life in Town — complications and all — but once he was away he did not always look back at his doings there with complete satisfaction. He did not wish to reflect upon such things here, nor was he comfortable that his conversation with Miss Tournier was touching so near to that aspect of his life. This was not where he wanted to go nor the game he wanted to play here.

He surveyed the room and caught sight of Mrs Tournier, somewhat more subdued, sitting on the same sofa.

“I think, Miss Tournier, I have been ignoring your mother for far too long. She will not forgive me easily or attempt to restrain her reproofs if I do not remedy it, I think. Will you join me?”

He caught her looking at him with a curious glance. He answered it openly and the faintest blush crept across her cheeks.

“Oh, I am just trying to decide how much to tell Maman about Mr Pembroke. She has a very strong opinion of him and I am not sure what her reaction will be if she discovers he . . . what happened earlier, I mean.”

Baugham smiled when he saw her anxiety and was reminded of Mrs Tournier’s direct ways.

“Why, you must tell her the truth, of course,” he slyly whispered. “That you have engaged me and my sword to discipline him at the slightest trespass against you, and that that makes him a marked man and in mortal danger. Really, all things considered, that should make your mother pity him.”

M
RS
T
OURNIER MET THEIR EYES
as they made their way towards her and, although she smiled, she did not look at all pleased.

“So, you have come to rescue me at last?” she asked as her daughter sat down beside her. “And you, my lord, do not even contemplate leaving again straight away for I am quite put out! I know one should never expect decent conversation or interesting discourse when at Lady Tristam’s
musicale
, but I had no idea my only salvation from an extremely dull evening would be dependent on a young priest from Fife! He was well-read enough, but I am now so bored I could cry!”

“Oh Maman!” her daughter sighed and gave Lord Baugham a desperate glance.

Mrs Tournier looked at her daughter, and then she quickly glanced over to the gentleman to see what his reaction was. His lordship was standing still by the chair and wearing an amused, but completely non-committal, smile.

“The only thing that has given me any kind of pleasure or entertainment so far this evening was seeing the two of you out on the dance floor and conversing without a single temper tantrum or sulking face between you. Quite remarkable! By the looks of it, it was not as easy as it appeared from the outside. My daughter, I think, is quite exhausted from the experience. Exhausted, but very bright-eyed, I might add.”

“Oh, I have every confidence her fatigue is wholly due to the dancing,” his lordship mused. “I suspect Miss Tournier does not get to dance as much as she should. It is very beneficial exercise, I find, for a wide variety of ills. And it suits her well. I would venture to say looking happy suits her very well.”

Mrs Tournier looked at her silent daughter.

“Indeed,” she curtly said. “All this dancing of yours makes me quite long for a glass of wine; how about you, my dear?”

“Say no more!” his lordship laughed. “I am on my way!”

As he left the ladies, Mrs Tournier looked after him with narrowed eyes for a long time and then turned to her daughter.

“The reason I am most displeased with my evening so far is that I have not been able to take part in any of the truly interesting events. I see there were words exchanged between Mr Pembroke and his lordship in your presence; I saw you disappear with Lord Baugham in tow; I saw you dance and laugh with him; I saw my niece and her admirer fending off interruptions to their apparently fascinating study of the view from the eastern windows, and now I have you here beside me looking weary, but with blossoming cheeks and kind eyes on his lordship and I have no inkling of what is happening. How am I supposed to support any of it?!”

Holly closed her eyes and leaned against the back of the sofa to rest her head for a moment then began to speak in a quiet voice:

“His lordship was very kind when Mr Pembroke came up to me and . . . he wanted an introduction and . . . well, Maman, you know how he can be sometimes. I was caught by surprise and couldn’t respond myself. Lord Baugham was very kind . . . . He said I should dance and so I did. It did take my mind off things but I am very tired now . . . ”

Holly took her mother’s hand in hers and squeezed it, falling silent. For the time being, that was all the information her mother could get from her.

Mrs Tournier looked at her daughter with regret, for she could see all was not well with her in spite of her smile and flushed cheeks. If she had anticipated that Mr Pembroke would have accosted her daughter for the requested introduction to his lordship and Mr Darcy, she never would have refused — in her typically caustic manner when forced to speak to the man — to perform the service herself.

W
HEN
B
AUGHAM RETURNED HE SETTLED
beside the two ladies and watched them: Miss Tournier a little pale and quiet, Mrs Tournier developing a mischievous glint in her eye.

“Lord Baugham,” she began, “I am told you performed one kind service to my daughter already this evening; are you quite finished playing the hero, or may I make one more appeal to you?”

“As always, I am at your service, madam,” was his answer. “How may I be of assistance?”

“As you know, Mr Darcy very kindly sent his carriage for us this evening — if I could prevail upon your kind assistance by way of an escort when it is convenient for you. Mr Pembroke, I am sure, would not care to have his merriment so soon interrupted, nor am I opposed to his spending time in other company.

“At the same time, I have not yet had anything of interest happen to me this evening and even though I presume my daughter has found much more to her delight than she anticipated, she is very tired. This is all provided, of course, that you can do without the imminent vocal performance by Miss Tristam, accompanied on harp and pianoforte by her sisters. “

His lordship stood with remarkable speed.

“You may rest assured nothing would give me more pleasure than to personally see you home. I will find Darcy this instant to inform him of the change of plans.”

He hesitated and leaned over the back of the sofa to catch the ear of Mrs Tournier.

“I have a request to make of you, madam,” Baugham whispered urgently. “Ostensibly Mr Darcy is here to hunt. Game, I mean. Well,
that
is not going very well and my housekeeper is sorely disappointed in our efforts so far. I wonder would you be so kind as to forward an invitation to your . . . guest, Mr Pembroke? Perhaps he would be interested in aiding our hunting ambitions on an expedition or two?”

“Are you going to take him down the glen and shoot him?” Mrs Tournier asked. “That would be a favour on
your
part, indeed.”

Lord Baugham laughed softly even though Mrs Tournier’s statement sounded perfectly serious. He gave Miss Tournier a hasty look, but she was watching the crowd although still holding onto her mother’s hand.

“So I understand;” Baugham said, “however, on Mrs McLaughlin’s displeasure that would have scant effect and I am soliciting on my own selfish behalf here, madam.”

The lady gave him a shrewd look. “There’s a great career as a house whip awaiting you should you be inclined to enter politics,” she said. “Persuasive powers that promise something for everyone, is it?”

“Perish the thought!” Baugham said with feeling. “All I want is meat on my table and for my housekeeper to stop nagging me.”

“Certainly I will forward the invitation if you insist upon it, but I am not convinced myself of Mr Pembroke’s sporting prowess.”

“Well, my friend’s aim improves significantly with his level of frustration, so I think we shall be well provided for.” Baugham winked at Mrs Tournier and with a mischievous smile on his lips, he departed.

When Mr Darcy was found — once more by a dark window, enjoying a dark view with his luminous and sparkling partner — he was more than happy to declare his readiness to see Miss Bennet home safely once the festivities were over, if Miss and Mrs Tournier preferred to leave early.

“Oh, I am not going anywhere!” Mrs Tournier said, lifting her eyebrows. “What a notion! Did I not say nothing of interest has happened to me yet? I will most certainly not leave before something does! But, Mr Darcy, I will most willingly accept you as a more suitable substitute on the journey home.”

His lordship’s carriage was quietly ordered and, due to the bustle that accompanied the Miss Tristams’ impending performance, in which it was difficult to determine whether the number of guests moving in to the music room was quite equal to the number making their way out — they managed to leave without attracting notice. The ride to Rosefarm was quiet, a circumstance for which they both were grateful, and Lord Baugham was everything that was polite and proper as he handed Miss Tournier out of the carriage and escorted her to her door. Then with a smile and a bow he was gone, leaving her to wonder at the strange turn of events.

H
OLLY PUSHED THE DOOR OPEN
and stood still in the small hall after closing it behind her. It was cold and eerily quiet, not a sound to be heard in a household that otherwise was more cramped and restless than usual. She could hear the clock ticking in the parlour as she quietly moved along the hall, removing her gloves and untying her cloak. Peeking inside, she watched how the moonlight cast a long silvery shadow across the dark room. It looked magical and she tiptoed inside to enjoy it.

The light lay over the sofa and Holly sank down into it quietly. She slipped off her shoes and, drawing her feet up underneath her, all she could hear was the slight creaking of the springs of the sofa and her own stays. Then there was a deep sigh, which filled the room like a shout. She was slightly startled herself and, as if fearing to disturb the sleeping house itself, took pains to sit perfectly still and quiet for a few minutes until peace returned.

She was alone, but not lonely in her home. A wonderful feeling, even though the evening itself had been quite stressful. Without really noticing it, she slipped into thoughts about her companion in the carriage ride home. Was he sitting in a dark and silent room like herself, thinking about what had passed at the Tristams’? And how was he thinking about it? He seemed pleasant enough on the way home and had been more than generous and gentleman-like when she had needed it, but on reflection, how did he view the evening and her part in it?

She jumped up off her seat. She did not want to think about Lord Baugham and, even less, concern herself with what he thought of her or her misfortunes. She walked steadfastly out of the room again and climbed the stairs to her room, for once not avoiding the creaking floorboards on her way but rather aiming for them with determined steps.

T
HE
M
ASTER OF
C
LYNE WAS
not particularly fond of empty or silent houses and so he did not share Miss Tournier’s quiet reflections in the moonlight at any point. He chatted amiably to Mr McLaughlin as he brushed down the horses, he wandered down the hall and noted the light in the kitchen as Mrs McLaughlin sat up with some silent chore awaiting her husband, and he met Riemann in his chambers and thanked him for his excellent choice in evening wear

It was not until he lay in his bed and debated putting out his candle versus picking up his book that his thoughts turned to the evening’s proceedings.

The event itself was everything he had come to expect from a country squire with pretensions of condescension and importance, but Sir Torquil was an outgoing and friendly man and Baugham could not fault his hospitality. Nor, when observed dispassionately, could he blame him or his wife for putting their daughters forward to any likely prospects that might appear. From what he had observed, Mrs McLaughlin was correct in her assessment: a young lady’s opportunities were severely limited in this little corner of Scotland. That went a long way to explaining the general expectations of the neighbourhood concerning Mr Grant and Miss Tournier. Not that the poor man had any chance, he smiled and recalled the desperate look in her eyes as she called him over to make the introductions. No, poor Grant was doomed to be disappointed.

His mind idly wandered through the crowd, wondering if there were any other likely candidates, but though she and her cousin had surely attracted much notice among the male guests that evening, none of the gentlemen had warranted much notice from Miss Tournier in return — until that Pembroke fellow. He reflected with satisfaction that he had been able to do her some little service in that instance. Yes, the look on the man’s face as he left them, and the opportunity to make up for his own too frequently unforgivable behaviour in the lady’s presence, pleased him.