Before the Season Ends (46 page)

“Oh.” This time there was disappointment in the word. Mrs. Royleforst was afraid that her nephew’s vitriolic temper was causing problems, and she was not by any means certain she could be of the least help in that regard.

Miss Bluford came back into the room carrying a gleaming silver tea service. She carefully set the tray upon a little sofa table in front of them. It was laid out with service for three, and Ariana resigned herself
to a long visit. Miss Bluford was not accepted or welcomed at most social occasions and she meant to participate in this one. Her manner of participating extended to merely sitting and nodding, smiling if it seemed appropriate, and otherwise making herself as little noticed as possible. Now and then Mrs. Royleforst would say, “Why, Miss Bluford says,” or, with an emphatic wave of her arm, “Miss Bluford never…!” The lady in question would exclaim, “Indeed! Indeed!” but that was all.

Two cups of tea and three little biscuits later, Miss Bluford rose to clear the dishes. Ariana was mildly surprised that it fell to the companion to do so, but recalled that Mrs. Royleforst was considered an eccentric because she employed as few servants as possible. She maintained it was to keep her house her sanctuary. Ariana was brimming with uncustomary impatience, and felt relieved to see the skinny figure retreat behind the closed door.

“I am sorry, my dear.” Mrs. Royleforst also had watched her go. “We entertain so little that I did not have the heart to send her from the room. The poor dear has nothing, you know, only me, and so I try to do well by her.”

“I think you succeed in that, ma’am.” Much gratified, the hostess smiled widely, revealing two large dimples which popped out on the chubby red cheeks. When Miss Bluford returned, her mistress told her she needed to speak privately with their guest. The lady was not offended and offered a wobbly curtsey to Ariana and left the room once more.

Ariana, meanwhile, had been worrying throughout the visit what she would say to her hostess regarding her difficulty. How much did she already know? Ariana did not want to reveal anything about her nephew that she was not already aware of. She owed Phillip that. But on the other hand, Mrs. Royleforst could be of no help to her if she did not know about the incident.

She rearranged herself primly upon the sofa, cleared her throat, and began.

“My dear ma’am.” She raised large, earnest eyes to Mrs. Royleforst’s little ones. “I hardly know how to begin. You see, it regards a matter
in your nephew’s past, something which, I must tell you, he did not inform me of himself.”

“How do you know about it, then?” Her tone was mild.

“Oh—an acquaintance told me.” She paused, folding and unfolding her hands “ ’Tisn’t a pleasant story. And the thing is, I was so shocked upon learning of it, I can hardly imagine being married—to Mr. Mornay.”

Mrs. Royleforst hid her surprise and alarm. This was far worse than she expected, but she knew exactly what Ariana had heard. Or supposed she did.

“My dear,” she said soothingly. “All young men are frightfully disposed to foolish behaviour in their youth. You must realize that Mr. Mornay was no exception.”

Ariana looked doubtful. “Foolish behaviour, ma’am? I can hardly excuse his abominable conduct on childish foolishness!”

“Oh, my dear! I grant that perhaps he should have known better, but when young men cavort together these things happen, you know. There was no lasting harm done, I recall. It was really more an inconvenience.”

Ariana blinked in disbelief.
No lasting harm? An inconvenience?

“I daresay that one ruined life—no, two, including that poor child’s—would be considered lasting harm!” Again she could not keep the tears from her voice.

Mrs Royleforst stared at her uncomprehendingly.

“Child? That man was alone in his carriage, asleep, when they removed the wheels and frightened off his horses!” Then, “Oh, dear!”

“Oh, dear!” echoed Ariana. She stood up. “Forgive me! I thought you knew! I pray you, forgive me! I had no intention—I thought from the way you responded that you knew—!”

Mrs. Royleforst motioned for her to sit down.

“I do know! I had forgotten. But I do know, yes, indeed.” She drew a handkerchief from a pocket of her gown and wiped at her eyes. Ariana waited, letting her settle her thoughts, watching while the woman obviously decided what to say to her.

“You see, my dear—oh, Phillip should have told you about this
himself.” She paused, staring blankly ahead, remembering. When she spoke again, it was in a low, sad tone.

“There is no one, no one upon the face of this earth who could feel worse about that tragical situation than he does, my dear. You must know, his character, his disposition—were not always so dark and forbidding. No, as he got older they darkened, and this incident was the initial cause.”

“If you mean to say, ma’am, that he was not always the kind of man who could do such a thing, I assure you, that will not suffice!”

“No, my gel, hear me out.” She paused again. “He was only sixteen when it happened. And by the by, many said the young lady in question had arranged for the very thing, thinking it would assure her an entry into a grand family, so there’s always two ways to butter the bread, you see!”

Ariana thought about that for a moment.

“Either way,” continued the lady, “I do not think Phillip ever really got over it.”

“What do you mean?”

“His heartache! He wanted to marry her—Miss Larkin, that was her name.”

“Until his father forbade it!” (Why couldn’t she speak without wanting to cry?)

“Oh, no, my dear! His father did indeed forbid a wedding; he wanted no acquaintance at all between the two. Wouldn’t hear of a marriage. Wouldn’t even allow Phillip to speak about it in his presence. It caused a terrible rift between them. But in the end, it was not his father who prevented it. You see, Edward, Phillip’s father, implored him to visit the continent for six months and think on the matter. He was certain Phillip was ruining his life, and wanted to prevent any contact between the young people. But he promised his son that, if he would take this trip and spend some time considering his future—apart from her—upon his return, he could choose his own course, marry whom he would. Well, with that promise, Phillip agreed. But there was one condition, only one, but absolutely necessary, his father said.”

“What was that?” Ariana’s large eyes glimmered wetly, but she was beginning to feel a slight hope, and she listened with her whole being.

Mrs. Royleforst shook her head regretfully. “That Phillip not tell Miss Larkin anything about the agreement. He was only to let her know of the trip, allowing that it was to appease his father. He declared his love and implored her to wait for his return, only with no promise of what would happen.” She paused, and sighed. “Phillip was gone only three months—he refused to stay longer and journeyed back alone. His plan was to marry her before she grew large with child, despite anything his father might say. But when he returned, after only
three months,
mind you, the young woman had vanished. For a time, he suspected his father had done something to her, and the two of them barely spoke to each other. Phillip blamed himself mightily for what he imagined might have befallen Miss Larkin. Then, we all discovered she had actually run off with another young gentleman of means. Phillip was furious! He went all the way to Yorkshire to see for himself and found that she had indeed abandoned him for another prospect. And, to his utter chagrin, he discovered she had not been with child after all. He began to see that his father had been right. She hadn’t ever truly loved him; it had been a trap. Of course he was guilty of walking into the trap rather than away from it. And he has since despised the weakness in himself which made him do it, as well as any female who dares set her cap at him!” She nodded. “Yes, I have long thought his aversion to females was due to this single episode.” She paused again, giving forth a great sigh. “Oh, it was a painful time for the family. Right after all this had been going on, Phillip’s father died. It was sudden, and the two had still not reconciled. He took his father’s passing very ill on that account. And then! He had a younger brother, you know, Nigel.”

“Nigel?” Ariana instantly remembered seeing the name inscribed in the family Bible on Mr. Mornay’s desk. It had been beneath the heading of “Deaths.” She shuddered at what was coming.

Mrs. Royleforst nodded sadly.

“Only months after my brother passed away—Phillip’s father, you see—Nigel fell from his horse and broke his neck. He died instantly.” Now Mrs. Royleforst seemed ready to burst into tears. She dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. “It was a terrible time for Phillip. I daresay he wished it had been he who had broken his neck, not his brother.” She paused and gave Ariana a tentative look. More memories seemed to float across her mind.

“I grant that Phillip was rougish and—wrong—to do what he did with that young woman, but as soon as he understood there was to be a child, I know for a fact, my dear, that he championed a marriage. If not for Edward, his father, that young lady’s scheme might have succeeded.”

Ariana was nodding her head in an understanding way, her huge eyes revealing the depth of emotion in her heart.

“Could he not have supplied her with a sum of money? Before his father sent him away, that is. I understand she was destitute. Perhaps this drove her to the other young man.”

“Phillip had none of his own, my dear,” Mrs. Royleforst said. “I do not doubt he gave her what little he could, but at sixteen he did not yet hold the purse strings!”

“And you are certain—of Mr. Mornay’s feelings in the matter?”

“Oh, my dear gel! It ruined the man! He thought himself in love, and he thought she loved him! He was bitter after that. He’s been bitter ever since.”

“What of his mother, ma’am?”

“Ah, Miranda. Another sad story, my dear. She doted on Phillip, you know.” Mrs. Royleforst took a deep breath, and was absently playing with the handle of her cane.

“Miranda was never strong; she was beautiful, and full of life and strong-willed. After Edward died so suddenly she rallied her strength for the boys. But Nigel’s death was too much for her. Coming so fast on the heels of losing her husband, really, looking back, I must think it was his loss that truly started her demise. The doctor said it was consumption, but I say she died of sorrow. Phillip was like sunlight to her, but losing her husband and son within a year was too much. She
died only eighteen months after Nigel. So you see…many tragedies, in such a short time.”

“My poor Phillip!”

“Yes, if you had known him when he was young. Nigel and he both, they were so full of life and energy, and Phillip had not a mean-spirited bone in his body. I grant he was mischievous upon occasion—are not all young men? But I would never have guessed that he would mature into such a difficult sort of man. I believe you know what I mean.”

“Yes. I wondered if some great sorrow might not be behind his temper. When we first met, I thought him such a fright!”

“Frightful, indeed! When he barks, people scatter!” She raised her tiny eyes and dared to inquire, “How did you meet, by the by? I have always wondered, particularly because you went to so much effort not to tell me!”

Ariana laughed. “Goodness! If you must know, I had climbed up into that monstrous tree on his estate, and he spied me in it, only he was good enough not to reveal his discovery to anyone.”

“Oh, dear!” Mrs. Royleforst was delighted. “That was a favorite climbing tree of Phillip’s when he was young.”

Ariana gasped, amused. “He never told me.”

“What happened next?”

“When I tried to get down, I found I was stuck, and Mr. Mornay was standing beneath me, looking up at me with such an expression that I quaked with fear! I wonder now that I didn’t fall at the sight of him! I would have hung there, stuck by a thread, and looked even more ridiculous, so it’s well that I didn’t!”

“Oh, dear! Of all things I could have imagined…I never dreamed of such a thing!” She wiped her eyes. “What happened next?”

“Well, he climbed right up to where I was stuck and saved my gown—and scolded me—and then he helped me down.” She thought of the day for a moment. “After enduring a set-down from him, he actually became quite the gentleman. I didn’t know what to make of him.”

“He obviously took to you immediately. As I then thought.”

“Come to think on it, Aunt Royleforst, Mr. Mornay scolded me above all things for putting myself in what he called a ‘vulnerable position.’ He said I could have been ill-used, and he seemed prodigiously out of temper about it.”

“Precisely! ’Tis never far from his thoughts. That he himself was ill-used and he, a man.”

“I felt that he despised me as though I were the stupidest creature alive!”

“Yes! He has ever struggled with self-respect since that episode, and naturally, he can have none for anyone else. He feels we all invite our troubles.”

Ariana’s face crinkled in thought. “So, he did not force himself on this girl, or abandon her.”

“No, indeed no. His father was perfectly right in suspecting that he was not the initiator. She hoped for a marriage, not blackmail, having no basis for an accusation.”

They sat quietly for a few moments, Mrs. Royleforst aware that Ariana’s concern was dissipating. She gave a contented sigh.

“I am so very glad I came to see you,” Ariana said.

“And I too, dearie. You must promise to come often.”

“I shall.”

“And you feel better now, do you not, regarding this affair?”

“Oh, indeed! I am greatly obliged to you. My poor, dear Phillip. And I thought so badly of him.”

“Do not be hard on yourself; no harm has come of it. And perhaps it was a good thing, for now you understand him better.”

They said their goodbyes. Ariana gave her new aunt an impulsive kiss on the cheek, crowning the visit for Mrs. Royleforst. Mrs. Bentley’s coachman had been forced to walk the horses, but soon Ariana was on her way home, and thinking if she could only see Mr. Mornay right now, what a warm greeting she would give him. She did not, in fact, have long to wait.