A Scandalous Secret (13 page)

‘I shall be well directly,’ Elizabeth hastened to say.

‘Maybe.’ Her companion looked doubtfully at her. ‘I can see I’ve upset you, though. But it’s your own fault, after all.’

‘My fault?’ Elizabeth asked, beginning to recover her composure. ‘What on earth do you mean?’

‘May I speak frankly, Countess?’

‘Do you ever speak otherwise?’

The old eyes twinkled, but her voice when she spoke was far from merry. ‘I’m not of your world, Countess; but I’m a woman, and so are you. Now, it’s plain as a pikestaff that you’re in love with my nephew.’ She paused for a moment, but if she expected a denial she did not receive it. ‘So why, in Heaven’s name, are you going to marry that cod’s-head, Lord Maples?’

Once again Elizabeth was astonished. What next would she hear
today? ‘I? Marry Lord Maples? Wherever did you hear such a story?’

‘Dominick told me about it on the day of the squire’s party, after he came from fishing,’ Miss Trottson said, her eyes narrowed. ‘He had it from the gentleman’s own lips.’

‘What?’
Elizabeth actually jumped to her feet in agitation. ‘I cannot believe it! Why would Oswald say such a thing?’

‘You mean it ain’t true?’

‘It is a bare-faced ...
clanker!’
Elizabeth declared, most improperly, looking down at her questioner. ‘How could he?’

Aunt Winnie’s brows drew together as her mind grappled with this latest development. ‘I’d say your Lord Maples is a downy one, all right. Seems to me he was making sure he put his rival out of the running.’

‘But he could not possibly have guessed that I—’ Elizabeth checked her unruly tongue. ‘In any case, there was never any question of my
marrying
Mr Markham.’

‘Are you trying to gammon me that you don’t love him?’

‘No,’ she said, and at that moment she acknowledged what her heart had known for eight long years. ‘I cannot.’

‘But you think yourself too good for him? Is that it?’

‘Never!’

‘Then why won’t you marry him?’

‘Because he has not asked me.’

For the first time in this fantastic meeting, Elizabeth saw the older woman put out of countenance - although that had not been her intention. ‘Aye,’ she muttered. ‘He wouldn’t. Thinks you little better than a doxy.’

‘He has made that abundantly clear.’

A gnarled old hand reached out to clasp Elizabeth’s. ‘He loves you, my dear. That much I do know.’

Elizabeth returned the warm handclasp, but shook her head  disbelief. ‘I suppose that is why he offered for Miss Thornwood,’ she commented, with bitter sarcasm.

‘Why, of course it is,’ Aunt Winnie replied. ‘He’s been ate up with jealousy ever since you came here.’ She caught Elizabeth’s doubtful glance, and continued. ‘When he thought you were going to marry Lord Maples, depend upon it, he only offered for the chit to soothe his pride.’

‘It hardly seems likely that he would do something so - so—’

‘So crack-brained?’ Miss Trottson finished Elizabeth’s thoughts most aptly. ‘Bless me, girl, you don’t know much about men if you believe that! It’s exactly the kind of thing a hot-headed young fool like Dominick would do.’

‘But do you really believe that he loves me? Oh, no, despises me. You said so yourself. It is impossible!’

‘I own, when he told me about you, I wasn’t happy about it. I don’t hold to folks marrying above their station, as a rule. I grant you that Dominick’s case is a little different. But still, there was your conduct at that inn—’

Elizabeth turned her face away, unable to look this woman in the eyes with her shame like a red flag between them. ‘Please—’ she begged, and could say no more.

There was a gentle tug at her hand, and she looked up to find Aunt Winnie patting the stone wall beside her. Once more resuming her seat, Elizabeth listened as she continued speaking.

‘I was prepared to dislike you, myself,’ Miss Trottson admitted. ‘But you weren’t at all what I expected. I could see right away that you ain’t the kind of woman to give herself to a man if you didn’t love him. You ain’t some bare-faced hussy, but a good, gentle lady - and a fine mother to boot. Anyone can see how much you love your son.’

‘Thank you,’ Elizabeth said, with real gratitude. She felt that this woman’s respect was well worth having, though she could not tell
what she had done to earn it.

‘Nothing to thank me for,’ Aunt Winnie disclaimed. ‘I like you, and I ain’t afraid to say so.’

‘I hope that we may be good friends, ma’am.’

‘Aye. I think we will, Lady Dansmere. In some ways you remind me of myself.’

‘I do?’

Aunt Winnie chuckled. ‘Well, I was never as handsome as you are, and I wasn’t a fine lady neither. But I had my share of beaux as a young girl. You mightn’t think it to look at me now, but I wasn’t born an old maid, you know. I was engaged to be married once. He was a clergyman.’

Elizabeth listened, spellbound, as the old woman told how her betrothed had died only a few weeks before their wedding. He had been thrown from a horse and broken his neck. Winifred Trottson had quietly packed away her bride-clothes and resigned herself to spinsterhood.

‘I knew I’d never love anyone but Frank,’ she said simply, her eyes suspiciously moist even after forty years. ‘And that’s how you’re like me, child. You’ll never love any man but Dominick. It’s just your nature. I never thought I’d say it, but I truly believe you’re the woman to make him happy.’

‘It seems an unlikely eventuality.’

‘I wish you had come with your sister yesterday, after all,’ Aunt Winifred declared. ‘You might have had a chance to talk to Dominick before he made this foolish match of his.’

Elizabeth looked off into the distance, seeing nothing beyond her own loss. ‘I fear it would have been to no avail, Miss Trottson. We never talk now; we only quarrel.’

‘That’s the way of love sometimes.’

‘I find it hard to believe that there is any love left in his heart for me.’

‘Well,’ the older lady said roundly, ‘you may be sure there’s none for Miss Thornwood.’

‘Nevertheless, he is to marry her.’

That’s as may be,’ Aunt Winnie answered, standing up to take her leave. ‘But remember, they ain’t married yet!’

* * * *

Even as Elizabeth and Aunt Winifred were conversing in the garden, Dorinda arrived at Rosedale Manor to be greeted by the squire with the joyous news of Miss Thornwood’s betrothal to Mr Markham. Dorinda was surprised, to say the least. She truly valued the Thornwoods and enjoyed their company, but she felt that Mr Markham could have done better than the feather-brained Gwendolyn. She was not at all the sort of wife for him. What could her merchant friend have been thinking?

He did not look particularly joyful, she reflected. Surrounded by the Thornwood clan, he was being slapped on the back by the squire, ogled by Gwendolyn, and forced to listen to a catalogue of his virtues from his prospective mother-in-law - the chief of them being his generous income. He had all the air of a prize cow at a country fair. He looked thoroughly uncomfortable and rather as if he wondered what he was doing there.

Directly on Dorinda’s heels, Lady Penroth and Enid arrived. They must, of course, be immediately regaled with the tale of Mr Markham’s romantic proposal after dinner last evening, and take their share in Gwendolyn’s wedding plans as soon as possible. This created enough of a diversion so that Dorinda was able to converse quietly with Mr Markham for a few minutes while the Thornwoods continued to crow over their good fortune.

‘I must offer you my felicitations, sir,’ she said conventionally. ‘The Thornwoods are a fine family.’

‘Thank you, ma’am,’ he returned, the picture of misery.

‘You may be thankful that my sister is not here,’ Dorinda said,
with a wry smile. ‘She would be more likely to commiserate than congratulate you. Not,’ she added, ‘that I blame her, considering what her own experience of the married state has been.’

Mr Markham’s attention seemed well and truly caught by this, and he displayed rather more animation as he enquired, ‘She did not love her husband, then?’

‘My dear sir, it would have taken a stronger constitution than Lizzy’s to love the late earl. His mother, indeed, may have loved him; though there is some doubt even of that.’

Mr Markham looked shocked. ‘I had thought,’ he ventured, his voice somewhat strained, ‘that your sister’s marriage must have been a love-match.’

‘It is odd, I suppose, that it was not. My sister was always the romantic one, dreaming of knights errant and such.’ She sobered. ‘But my father put an end to that.’

‘Your father? How did he do that?’

She was positively grim now, remembering. ‘It may not be precisely proper to speak ill of the dead, but the sad fact is that my father was a very profligate gentleman. He gambled away the small fortune he had inherited from my grandfather. In the end, he had nothing left to sell, no way to save his estate - except through his daughter. I was rather too young to suit his purpose, but Lizzy was turned seventeen and already a diamond of the first water.’ She swallowed something in her throat before continuing. ‘He forced Lizzy to marry the earl - a man almost forty years her senior, and with one of the coldest dispositions I have ever encountered. You can have no notion, Mr Markham, what that did to my sister.’

‘So that was why ... what she said the other night here. I did not realize.’

‘How should you?’ she said. ‘It is an old story, after all. But I would not wish you to think too badly of her.’

‘I ... no. I am very sorry indeed.’

Dorinda thought that she had never seen him so distressed. He could scarcely speak. But why should her story, sad though it undoubtedly was, affect him so deeply? Before she could attempt to solve this riddle, however, they were interrupted by a loud burst of laughter from the other side of the room and a shout from Gwendolyn.

‘Mr Markham - Dominick - we have got Lady Penroth’s consent for Enid to accompany us to Salisbury!’

Mr Markham expressed his pleasure at this news with as much warmth as he could counterfeit - which was not a great deal, Dorinda felt.

‘Do you go to see the cathedral?’ she asked.

‘Naturally,’ he answered, more calmly. ‘I have never seen it, and it is surely one of the principal landmarks of the area.’

‘Oh, but you must come with us, Lady Barrowe,’ Gwendolyn urged her, emphasizing her earnestness by coming to stand beside them. ‘And of course your sister and Lord Maples, as well. It will be such fun! We are even to have a little
alfresco
luncheon, if the weather permits.’

‘How exotic.’ Dorinda smoothed the folds of her skirt, smiling at the youthful high spirits which turned an ordinary outing into a romp. ‘I am sure that Lizzy and Lord Maples will be very pleased to accompany you. It is horribly dull for them at Merrywood just now.’

‘And will
you
join us, too?’

‘Thank you for the offer, my dear,’ she said graciously, ‘but I visited the building only a few months ago. If you were to attempt Stonehenge, now, I might be persuaded, for I have never been there.’

‘That
would
be an adventure, would it not?’ Gwendolyn cried, her eyes glowing at the prospect. ‘Shall we try?’

‘I believe,’ her betrothed said, with damping practicality, ‘that it
is too great a distance to attempt both at once. Much as I would like to gratify Lady Barrowe’s curiosity, I fear Stonehenge must wait for another fine day.’

Somewhat to Dorinda’s surprise, Miss Thornwood did not press the issue. Charming though Gwendolyn was, she could be quite headstrong and obstinate when she chose. Dorinda rather thought that she was on her best behaviour now that her husband-hunting campaign was successfully concluded.

‘I do not think Stonehenge at all appropriate for young persons to visit.’ Lady Penroth gave a formidable frown to accentuate her disapproval. ‘A monstrous pagan shrine, which should be avoided by all decent-thinking Christians.’

Her anathema, however, did not seem to affect Mr Markham. Dorinda noted the twinkle in his eye as he said, ‘I own that it is a place I have always wanted to see for myself. No doubt we shall do so before the summer’s end.’

‘I hope you will remember me when you do go,’ Dorinda responded. ‘But you must excuse me at present. I really do not wish to leave Selina for very long at this time. While you are all viewing the sights of Wiltshire, I will be happy to stay at home and entertain the children.’

She very soon excused herself from the boisterous company and was surprised when Mr Markham did likewise.

‘I, too, must take my leave,’ he contended. ‘Allow me to escort you to your carriage, ma’am.’

His betrothed bid him a cursory farewell, eager to return to her discourse on the proper attire for brides and the number of wedding guests required to fill the village church. The others expressed tepid regret for the departure of their friends, who were then allowed to exit without further molestation.

‘Speaking of children, how is little Selina getting on?’ Dominick asked, descending the front steps beside her.

Dorinda opened her parasol against the sun’s glare. ‘Much improved, I thank you, sir. I left her playing spillikins with Nicky in the nursery.’

‘Has Nicky been getting into any more scrapes?’

Dorinda laughed, but shook her head in denial. ‘He is a perfect angel. How long that will last is open to question.’

‘The countess certainly has her hands full, with him to care for.’

‘She does indeed. I have told her often enough that she needs a man - a husband - to keep him in check.’ She shrugged, then cast a saucy look at her friend. ‘I invited Lord Maples here for that very purpose, hoping that he might be the man to tempt her.’

His face became curiously blank as he asked, ‘And is he?’

‘Quite the contrary. Neither Lizzy nor Nicky can abide the man.’

She could see that she had surprised him. ‘Forgive me,’ he said, a little diffidently, ‘but I was under the impression that your sister had conceived a decided
tendre
for the viscount.’

‘Good gracious, no!’ she confessed. ‘Not but what it was once my fondest wish - which only shows how mistaken a person can be. I am now quite thankful that it is not so, for I am beginning to find the man something of a bore myself.’