A Curious Heart (Love Vine: A Regency Series) (30 page)

"We're all in a dither, lad. Don't fret, I'll not take offence at your words." Nigel patted Griffin's shoulder, liking the young man very much, and knowing Allie in capable hands with the young scholar.

"Your Allie, Griffin, is in need of a miracle. I will tell you, my good chap, that we will try anything at this point, as we were just discussing. Have you seen her this day?" Sir Gordon spoke kindly, but he wanted Griffin to know the family would indeed call in anyone at all, and he should refrain from comment on the subject.

Griffin shook his head, mumbling, "No. Mrs. Pendleton allows no one in except the maid." He looked up at the older men, his eyes suspiciously damp. "If I could just see her for a moment, surely it would do no harm."

"I'll speak to Marion. She is so very protective of the girl, Griffin. She isn't thinking clearly and I believe she may have forgotten who you are."

He stood and stretched, then moved toward the door. "Come along to Allie's rooms in about an hour. By then, I'm sure you will be admitted, if only for a short time."

Chapter Twenty-Two

The slowly passing days showed no improvement in Allie's condition—yet for awhile, she grew no worse. She had recognized Griffin when he came to her that first day, but the following day she knew him not. After that, she had simply looked into the distance, refusing to be fed.

They managed to dribble enough of cook's broth in her to keep the patient from perishing and she took the tonic prescribed without a fuss.

The specialist from Vienna came and went, offering no hope, but taking rooms in London that he might be available if needed. No one could think why he might be needed. However, the family pockets were deep enough to accommodate his expenses and if he consulted with the other physicians long enough, they might come up with something.
Anything
.

The arrival of Rothburn and Alana depicted a time of joy and pain, all mixed together. Lady Alana was increasing and told everyone so, with great pride. Her husband went about grinning foolishly, except when he thought of Allie. The entire family lived in a spirit of dread—the brightest light in their lives had gone dim.

Alana had not been angry, only deeply touched, that they were left to enjoy their honeymoon. She sat with her niece most times and eventually, she and Rothburn moved into a guest suite, that they might give support to the others.

Rothburn, being a gracious and kind sort of man, did not begrudge his new wife's attentions, and fell into his place in the family with ease. To pass the time, he often went to visit his mother, and was seldom seen at any of his clubs these days as he had no heart for the frivolous and mundane existence to be found there.

It was a time of gathering, a time of closeness and despite Allie's illness there were some moments of gaiety, for human nature being what it is, no one can sustain such gloom forever. No one except Griffin, who had become a shadow of himself, haunting the hall before Allie's rooms constantly, losing weight as he fretted.

He refused to return to university, saying his plans were nothing without the girl he loved. No one argued, seeing he would not be swayed. Rothburn, normally influential with his cousin, refrained from attempting to sway the young man. Even he could see a losing battle in that.

* * * * *

As the wedding grew near, Lady Eleanor spent more time at the Pendleton residence as well. She had suggested in her gentle and selfless way that the wedding could be postponed in view of the circumstances, but no one would hear of it.

There was also the matter of the announcement ball for the Rothburn's. They wanted to postpone, but Sir Gordon, as well as his parents, refused to allow it. And so, it came to be a very important social engagement for the end of the season, the grandeur and splendor of which, had not been seen in some time.

Countess Avonleigh outdid herself in the preparations. Her rather eccentric decorations and fluttering of ideas actually came together in a splendid way—much to Sir Gordon's private relief.

The entire family was invited, and after some discussion, it was decided that protocol would only be served if The Earl and Countess of Champlay were there as well. Though they were willing to flout convention in many things, the Pendleton's were well aware of their status as outsiders to the peerage and thus, they could not court gossip as readily as some others.

The Pendleton Foundation was a vast enterprise, encompassing many business investments that involved some of the highest Lords of the land. It would not sit well with those Lords should one of them be snubbed, by a mere commoner. Sir Gordon, still awaiting his earldom, and did not want to chance angering the king before that appointment was granted.

The night of the ball, Lady Alana sat with Allie for some time, talking softly about her life with Rothburn and the new baby. Allie, though she did not appear to be listening, was quiet and seemed more content with her aunt's company than with anyone else's.

"I shall bring you back a large piece of cake and tell you everything, Allie. It will be just as though you were there." Alana patted the girl's pale cheek, and rose from her chair by the bed. "Do take some of this broth Tillie has brought you."

"Time to go, Love." Rothburn stuck his head in the door, smiling at the girl who had turned her head at the sound of his voice, an unusual occurrence. "Hello Allie, my girl. How are you this evening?"

Seeing her eyes upon him, he came into the room and strode to the bed, taking up her lifeless hand and kissing it gallantly. "I vow, you would have been the prettiest, most fair maid at the ball tonight. 'Tis a pity you will not be attending, but never fear.

"Our Griffin is staying with you to keep you entertained, lucky fellow. He will derive all the benefit of your exquisitely graceful beauty, and the rest of us poor gentlemen will have to settle for the less lovely lasses of this world."

He chattered at her like that for some moments, and earned a poke in the ribs from his lady wife for his last comment.

"See, you have evoked the jealous nature of my wife, who will doubtless choke me the moment we are out of your sight, for having impugned her own beauty in such a manner as to gain her displeasure."

He stepped back and grinned at Alana, who grinned back, saying, "You are the most addle-pated gabster in the kingdom. If you do not escort me from the room this moment, I vow I shall do just as you suggested."

Allie appeared to move her lips in a smile, though no one noticed it. It had never occurred to any of them that their gloomy visits to the sickroom had done nothing to cheer the girl and that she might be in need of some lighthearted chatter.

Taking their leave, they met Griffin coming down the hall, dressed to the nines in his best evening clothes. "I thought you were staying here, Griffin. Just told Allie to expect you." Rothburn frowned in a rather disagreeable manner and his voice held censure.

"I
am
staying here, Cousin. I am having a party of my own." He preened before them, and went toward Allie's rooms, calling over his shoulder. "Allie and I may not be attending your ball, but we are going to have a grand time."

Tillie followed him into the room, her arms full of hothouse roses, and one of Allie's best ball gowns draped over her shoulder. She turned back and managed an awkward curtsey, saying with some boldness, "Master Griffin 'as a wish to dress for dinner. Thinks it might 'ave some effect on 'er. I don't see the 'arm, even if it don't 'elp much."

"Come along Rothburn, and leave them alone. They have so little to look forward to these days, and who knows, perhaps he will work some miracle with Allie."

She nodded to the maid and pulled on her husband's arm—Lady Alana being a very strong minded and willful woman. "Let us go now, My Lord. Would not do to be late."

* * * * *

The ball was in progress, dancers swirling around the room in a grand procession and all was well. All, that is, except the notable absence of the bride's mother and father, who had been expected hours ago. The guests of honor stood to one side of the room, Rothburn not inclined to allow his pregnant wife to over indulge in the dancing. They made a handsome couple, tall and stately and quite beautiful as they watched the revelers.

"Rothburn, whatever has happened to my mother? She was told that this was an announcement ball, but she surely has not gotten wind of the fact we have wed. I have it on good authority from my maid that no one has spilled the beans, and even the nosiest ladies maids have not been gossiping about this."

All of the wedding guests had been sworn to secrecy and the fact that Rothburn stayed at the Pendleton home had not been remarked, for he and Sir Gordon were thick as thieves and everyone knew it. It had pleased the couple to wait for this event to tell Lady Grace.

"She'll be here, I'm sure. The old girl would never miss a chance to try to belittle you, if you get my meaning. She is likely awaiting the final moments to make a grand entrance, looking put upon and aggrieved."

At that moment, it just so happened, the announcer came to the door and gave out in his sonorous voice, "Lord and Lady Champlay."

Alana turned to see her mother enter the room on the arm of a very nervous and perspiring Earl of Champlay. Her rotund person resplendent in purple and violet and sporting a huge feathered turban, appeared magnificently ridiculous.

She and Rothburn went forward to greet them and Lord Champlay took Rothburn's hand warmly, smiling in a conspiratorial way. "Good to see you, young man. Very good. You are looking quite fit. Marriage does become you both, I should say."

"Marriage? Don't be absurd,  Champlay. They are not wed yet." The Countess looked Rothburn up and down and turned away from him with the cut direct. Unable to stop her, he vowed he would not allow it and stepped forward quickly, turning her with a firm grip and pulling her into a bear hug. He did it so quickly that no one noticed her cut.

"Mother Champlay, we have awaited your arrival to make our evening perfect." He stepped back from her and though he smiled, it did not reach his eyes, which held a grim warning. "Please allow me this waltz, Madam."

"I do not waltz." She knew her attempt to discredit him had failed, but she would not give in to his further mechanisms. "I am too ill to waltz. If and when you wed my daughter, I may deign to allow a small dance."

"If and when? Well, then, all is perfect, for your daughter wed me over two months ago. And you will be a grandmother in seven months if the doctor is correct in this matter."

He watched her face grow pale and red by turns as she digested the information and turned to wink at his father-in-law, who appeared to be enjoying the spectacle hugely. Before this night was over there would be no doubt that their marriage had been kept from the Countess, and it would provide much speculation and gossip for years to come.

Lady Grace blanched visibly at his words and her chin trembled as she gazed at her son-in-law, mouth working, but no sound issuing forth. She staggered toward her husband and tried to speak, her eyes damning him for his knowledge.

The Earl of Champlay took his wife's arm and tried to head her toward a nearby chair, for she looked about to faint. She would have none of it, but pulled him sharply toward Rothburn and she stood in front of him, her eyes malicious, her voice growing stronger as she fed on her hatred. "You have wed my only daughter without a by-your-leave. How dare you insult the house of Champlay with such a display?"

"Display Madam? I think it is a splendid display. Glad you appreciate my mother's and Lady Avonleigh's decorations." He could not help but jibe her with a mention of his mother. Having gained the story of their dislike, he understood his mother's reasons and had no sympathy for this wretched woman, who still tried to give him the cut.

He held her arm in an iron grip, though his lady wife murmured a half-hearted protest. "I shall have that dance now, though if you are ill, as you say, we could simply sit and chat."

He continued to smile his awful smile and looked at her hard. "I must say, you do look a bit green around the gills. Alana, let us find a place for your mother to lie down. She looks quite sickly."

Lady Grace became so incensed at the implied insult that her blood pressure went through the ceiling and she swayed on her feet, her mouth flopping open as she gasped for air. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she began to sink to the floor, gaining the attention of the assembled guests who began to murmur.

Rothburn, who still held her arm, swooped down and lifted her, heaving with the effort and strode to the chair she had refused from her husband. He plopped her into it with little regard for her person. He then leaned over her and chaffed her hands, his face close to hers as he spoke in a whisper, "Do not cause a scene, Madam. Your purse strings are dangling and your grandson watches you closely."

All eyes were on them and it looked like Rothburn was being considerate and attentive, for no one could hear his words. He knew the picture they displayed and continued to lean over her, though she was trying desperately to push him away.

He captured her hands once more and looked down at her, squeezing them just a bit harder than necessary. "You evil old harridan," he smiled and looked over his shoulder to make sure no one was close enough to hear, "If you do not cease this at once, I shall have you carted out of here by my footman. I shall tell the world that you have been so overcome with happiness at the news of your upcoming grandchild that you cannot wait to be home and start planning for the event."