Rendezvous (18 page)

There was an acute silence as Lovejoy stood gazing down into the bottom half of the globe for a long moment. Then he turned slowly around to face Harry. His face was expressionless.

“I appear to have been mistaken,” Lovejoy said softly. “I do not have your lady’s marker, after all.”

“I did not think so. I believe we understand each other very well now, do we not, Lovejoy? Again, I shall bid you good day. You may congratulate me, by the way. I am to be married tomorrow.”

“So soon?” Lovejoy could not completely hide his start of surprise. His eyes narrowed. “You amaze me, sir. I would not have thought you so rash. From all accounts anyone who marries Miss Augusta Ballinger must be prepared for a great many adventures.”

“It will no doubt make an interesting change for me. I am told I have spent too many years buried in my books. Perhaps it is time I was introduced to a bit of adventure.” Without waiting for a reply, Harry opened the door and let himself out of the library. Behind him he heard the lid of the globe safe being slammed shut with sufficient force to echo in the hall.

Lovejoy’s choice of Augusta as a target for his obnoxious little games was interesting, Harry thought as he left the
house. He decided it was time to make a few inquiries into the man’s past. The task would give Peter Sheldrake something more useful to do than play at being Scruggs the butler.

C
laudia
walked into Augusta’s bedchamber and stood calmly amid the whirlwind of commotion that was taking place there. She frowned gently at her cousin over a sea of gowns, shoes, hatboxes, trunks, and plumes.

“I do not understand the necessity for all this packing up and dashing about, Augusta. It makes no sense to get married by special license when the plans for your wedding in four months are coming along very nicely. It is not quite the thing to hurry matters like this. Graystone, of all people, should understand that.”

“If you have any questions, I suggest you take them directly to Graystone. This is all his idea.” Augusta, busy directing the flurry of activity from her command position near the wardrobe, scowled at her maid. “No, no, Betsy, put my ball gowns in the other trunk. The petticoats go in that one. Have my books been packed?”

“Yes, Miss. I packed ’em meself this mornin’.”

“Good. I do not want to find myself stuck in Dorset with only the contents of my future husband’s library available to
me. I imagine it contains a great many volumes on old Greeks and Romans and not a single novel.”

Betsy hoisted a mountain of silk and satin out of one trunk and lowered it into another. “Don’t know what ye’ll be needin’ these for in the country, Miss.”

“Best to be prepared. Do not forget the matching slippers and gloves for each gown.”

“Yes, Miss.”

Claudia waded forward through the piles of trunks and hatboxes and forged a path around the bed, which was strewn with petticoats, stockings, and garters. “Augusta, I would like to talk to you.”

“Talk away.” Augusta turned to call through the open door of the bedchamber. “Nan, is that you? Will you please come in here and give Betsy a hand?”

A housemaid stuck her head in the door. “You want me to help with the packing, Miss?”

“Yes, please. There is a great deal to be done and we are growing short of time. My fiance has sent word that we are to be on our way tomorrow morning directly after the wedding.”

“Oh, dear, Miss. That ain’t much time at all, is it?” Nan scurried into the room and began taking instructions from a frazzled Betsy.

“Augusta, please,” Claudia said firmly, “we cannot talk amid this confusion. Let us have a cup of tea downstairs in the library.”

Augusta straightened her frilled muslin cap and eyed the bedchamber. So much remained to be done and she had a feeling Harry would not be pleased if he were obliged to delay their departure because she had not finished packing. On the other hand, she was badly in need of a strong cup of tea. “Very well, Claudia. I believe things are under control here. Let us go downstairs.”

Five minutes later, Augusta sank into an armchair, put her slippered feet up on a stool, and took a long swallow of tea. She set the cup and saucer down with a sigh. “You were
right, Claudia. This was an excellent notion. I need this little break. I feel I have been rushing about since dawn. I vow, I shall be exhausted before I even set out for Dorset.”

Claudia studied her cousin over the rim of her teacup. “I wish you would tell me why all this haste is necessary. I cannot help feeling that something is not quite right here.”

“As I said, you must ask Graystone.” Augusta massaged her temples wearily. “Personally, I believe the man has become slightly unhinged, which certainly does not bode well for my future as his wife, does it? I wonder if that sort of thing runs in his family.”

“You cannot mean that.” Claudia looked genuinely alarmed. “You think he has truly gone mad?”

Augusta groaned. Claudia’s branch of the family had a somewhat limited sense of humor. Rather like Graystone, now that she considered the matter. “Good heavens, no. I was being sarcastic. The thing is, Claudia, I myself do not particularly see the need for a special license and all this rushing about, either. I would have much preferred to spend the next four months getting to know Graystone better and allowing him to come to know me.”

“Precisely.”

Augusta nodded morosely. “I cannot help but think he may be letting himself in for some rude shocks by marrying me. And after the wedding, there will not be much he can do about it, will there? He will be stuck with me.”

“I did not think Graystone the precipitous type. Why is he suddenly consumed with a need for this hasty wedding?”

Augusta cleared her throat and studied the toes of her slippers. “I fear that, as usual, it is all my fault, although he gallantly denies it this time.”

“Your fault? Augusta, whatever are you saying?”

“Do you recall how we once discussed the problems that can arise when one allows a man a few harmless intimacies?”

Claudia’s brows knitted together and a slight flush appeared in her cheeks. “I recall that discussion very well.”

“Yes. Well, Claudia, the long and the short of it is that
last night, due to some unforeseen circumstances, I happened to find myself in a darkened carriage alone with Graystone. Suffice it to say that this time I allowed him more than a few kisses. A great deal more.”

Claudia paled and then turned a bright pink. “Are you saying you …
Augusta
, I cannot believe any such thing. I refuse to believe it.”

“I fear I did.” Augusta heaved a sigh. “Mind you, if I had it to do over again, I would think twice about the matter. It was not really all that wonderful, although it started out pleasantly enough. But Graystone assures me it will grow more comfortable with time and I shall just have to trust he knows what he is talking about.”

“Augusta, are you actually telling me the man made love to you in a carriage?” Claudia’s voice was weak with shock.

“I know you must find the whole notion disgusting and thoroughly reprehensible, but it did not actually seem that way at the time. I suppose you had to be there to understand.”

“Graystone seduced you?” Claudia demanded, her voice hardening now.

Augusta frowned. “I would not say I was seduced, precisely. As I recall, he began the whole thing by reading me an extremely severe lecture on my general lack of propriety. He was quite annoyed with me. One might say passionately annoyed with me. And one sort of passion led to another, if you see what I mean.”

“Good grief. He
attacked
you?”

“Heavens, no, Claudia. I just explained he made love to me. There is a difference, you know.” Augusta paused for another sip of tea. “Although I did wonder about that difference myself for a time afterward. I confess I was a bit stiff and somewhat uncomfortable. But I felt much better after a bath this morning. I do not think I shall go riding in the park this afternoon, however.”

“This is outrageous.”

“I am well aware of that. I suppose there’s a moral here
somewhere. Aunt Prudence would no doubt have been able to summarize it for us. Something succinct and pithy, such as,
Never get into a closed carriage with a gentleman or you are likely to find yourself married in haste and repenting at leisure
, perhaps.”

“I suppose that under the circumstances you must be grateful Graystone is willing to marry you,” Claudia announced primly. “Some men might take the attitude that such loose behavior before marriage on the part of a female implies a grave lack of virtue.”

“I fear it is his own behavior which shocked Graystone. Poor man. He is such a stickler for the proprieties, you know. He was extremely annoyed with himself and feels he will surely fall from grace again before the four months of our engagement are out. That is why we are all rushing around this morning preparing for a special license.”

“I see.” Claudia hesitated. “Are you truly unhappy about the way events have gone, Augusta?”

“Not entirely, but I will confess I am extremely anxious about the whole thing,” Augusta admitted. “I wish I had the next four months to be certain of what I am about. I do not know if Graystone loves me, you see. He never said a word about love last night, not even—” She broke off, her face growing warm.

Claudia’s eyes widened. “Graystone does not love you?”

“I have my doubts. He professes not to be concerned with such nonsense, you see. And the thing is, Claudia, I am not certain I can teach him to love me. That is what is so frightening about this business of rushing the marriage.” Augusta gazed glumly out the window. “I do so wish he loved me. It would be very reassuring.”

“As long as he is a good husband to you, I hardly think you have grounds for complaint,” Claudia said crisply.

“I knew a Hampshire Ballinger would say that.”

“Very few people in our circles marry for love. Mutual respect and some degree of affection are all that one can ask.
Many couples do not even have that much. You know that, Augusta.”

“Yes. But I suppose I had allowed myself some foolish dreams over the years. I wanted a marriage like that of my parents. Full of love and laughter and warmth. I am not quite certain what I shall be getting into with Graystone. I have realized recently that there is a part of him that is hidden from me.”

“What an odd thing to say.”

“I cannot fully explain, Claudia. I only know that much of Graystone lies deep in shadow. Lately I have begun to wonder just how much darkness there may be in him.”

“Yet you are drawn to him, are you not?”

“From the first,” Augusta agreed. “Which does not, I suppose, speak well for my intelligence.” She set down her teacup with a clatter. “And then there is the matter of his daughter. I have never even met her and I cannot help wondering if she will like me.”

“Everyone likes you, Augusta.”

Augusta blinked. “That is very nice of you to say.” She smiled bravely. “But enough of that morbid conversation. I am to be married on the morrow and that is all there is to it. I shall just have to make the best of matters, shall I not?”

Claudia hesitated and then leaned forward to speak in a soft rush. “Augusta, if you are genuinely alarmed by the notion of marrying Graystone, perhaps you should speak to Papa. You know he cares for you very much and he would not want to force you into this marriage against your will.”

“I doubt that even Uncle Thomas could convince Graystone to hold off on the wedding now. The man has made up his mind and he is quite strong-willed.” Augusta shook her head ruefully. “In any event, I am afraid it is much too late for me to back out. I am soiled goods, you know. A fallen woman. I can only be grateful the gentleman who assisted me in my fall from virtue is willing to do the right thing.”

“But you are strong-willed also and no one can force you
into this, not if you really do not want—” Claudia broke off to stare at her. “Oh, dear. I have just realized. You truly are in love with Graystone, are you not?”

“Is it so terribly obvious?”

“Only to one who knows you well,” Claudia assured her gently.

“That is indeed a relief. I am not at all certain Graystone would welcome a lovesick wife. He would probably find it quite a burden.”

“So you are going to live up to the rash and reckless reputation of your side of the family and plunge yourself heedlessly into this marriage.” Claudia appeared thoughtful.

Augusta poured herself another cup of tea. “Things are going to be difficult enough for a while. I just wish I did not have to follow in the footsteps of such a virtuous and noble paragon of a wife as my predecessor apparently was. I have always found comparisons of that sort quite odious and they are bound to be made in my case.”

Claudia nodded in understanding. “Yes, I imagine it will be extremely difficult for you to live up to the high standards set by Graystone’s first wife. From all accounts Catherine Montrose was a model of the womanly virtues. But Graystone will no doubt assist you in your efforts to improve yourself to her level.”

Augusta winced. “No doubt.” There was silence for a time in the library, although the sounds of trunks being shifted about overhead could be heard. “Do you know, Claudia, one of the things that concerns me most at the moment is that I shall not be able to call upon Sally for the next few weeks. She really is very ill, you know. And I am so fond of her. I shall worry a great deal about her welfare.”