Corey McFadden (28 page)

“Oh, indeed, madam,” he replied cheerily. He was beginning to see where this was going and was mightily entertained. Too bad it would never be shared. Imagine Dolly Haverford, the most wagging tongue in the
ton
, having been a bit beforehand herself, as far as her wedding had been concerned. What a delicious piece of blackmail for the Viscountess Alderson to have so handy. The fact that such a thing had never crossed the ears or lips of his set suggested that great pains had been taken long ago to disguise the fact; hence, Dolly’s obvious shock and discomfort at hearing the matter broached, even so obliquely, especially in the presence of himself, the second-most wagging tongue in the
ton.

“People can be so unkind, can’t they, Dolly? Especially when they’ve got things all wrong. Isn’t that so?” The viscountess nibbled daintily on a stale cake as if it were quite the most delicious thing she’d had to eat all week.

“Oh, indeed, yes, Lady Alderson, most unkind!” Lady Haverford managed to gasp out. She was breathing in air in great gulps and had turned quite red in the face. Edgar was beginning to fear she might really faint, at that.

“In fact, I’m going to let you in on a great secret, Dolly,” the viscountess said, lowering her voice to a near whisper, and leaning in conspiratorially. Edgar was agog to hear what would come next. He had thought himself a player in the gossip game, but he was a novice compared to this woman, who, he would have sworn, had nothing but disdain for the whole scene.

“Indeed,” the viscountess continued, “you saw only part of what happened. It was, in fact, much worse than you thought.” She paused for effect and got it. Dolly forgot her own predicament so far as to lean in to the viscountess, lips slightly parted, hanging on the next word.

“Caroline Quinn was, indeed, attacked, but not by Julian Thorpe. The dear boy had come upon her quite unexpectedly just before you did. He was wandering in the maze himself and heard an outcry. He ran toward the sound and came upon Caroline under attack by some low miscreant, some employee of the Gardens. She’d been lured there, apparently…you know what a beauty she is. Most disgusting, really. If one is to be compromised, it should at least be by someone of one’s own social standing, don’t you agree, Dolly?”

“Why…er, yes, of course.” If Dolly Haverford seemed less than certain of this astounding bit of choplogic, he could hardly blame her.

“Dear Julian chased the churl, but lost him quickly in the maze. The employees know the maze quite well, of course.”

“Of course.”

“Julian had just returned to the center of the maze to aid poor, dear Caroline when you and Mr. Randall happened along. Most unfortunate for poor Caroline, wouldn’t you agree, Dolly? The child was utterly innocent and yet things appeared so.…”

“Oh, yes, yes, of course, your ladyship. The poor, dear child. Now that I think of it, she seemed most distraught.”

“Well, naturally. The man had a knife, which he held at her side. It actually left a cut in her dress—I saw it myself. It is a wonder she did not die of the heart attack right there on the spot.”

“Oh, indeed, I should have done so!” Dolly Haverford was fairly gasping with delighted horror.

“Julian was apparently holding the poor thing up, to keep her from falling to the ground when you came upon them. That’s why things appeared so.…” The viscountess allowed the innuendo to suggest itself. The woman seemed to have no difficulty piling one preposterous bit of nonsense on the last. To be sure, Dolly Haverford was hanging on every word.

“Indeed, Mr. Randall, you sensed something amiss immediately, did you not?” The viscountess turned her basilisk gaze upon him.

“Oh, yes, indeed, your ladyship. I most certainly did. Most irregular. Julian and Caroline would never....”

“Quite, Mr. Randall.” She cut him off, obviously planning to control the flow of information herself. Just as well. He had no idea where they were headed with this outlandish tale. Not that it was any more outlandish than the truth.

“Mr. Randall went back later and found the knife where the miscreant had dropped it, did you not, Mr. Randall?”

“Ah, I did, yes. And a wicked looking thing it was, madam, I’m sure.”

“Oooh, you found the knife?” Dolly Haverford was fairly shivering with delight.

“And turned it over to the authorities, did you not, Edgar?”

“Why, of course. Glad to get the evil-looking thing out of my hands, you know,” he offered. “A low, criminal thing. I don’t know when I’ve seen such a...” he broke off under an irritated glare from the viscountess. She clearly was writing this script and would stand for no improvisation from the lesser cast.

“Have they caught the fellow?” Dolly Haverford asked eagerly.

“Not yet, but when they do, he’ll hang at Tyburn, you mark my words.”

“Oh, my!”

The viscountess allowed the horror of it all to echo in the silence while she took another sip of tea that had to be stone cold by now. Dolly Haverford had so far forgot her hostess duties as to fail to notice, or to offer a fresh cup.

“But why, then, did Julian...?” Lady Haverford began.

“Why did Julian allow the blame to fall upon his innocent shoulders?” the viscountess interrupted. She had a plan here and was obviously not to be diverted. “Pure chivalry, Dolly. Nothing less!” she announced triumphantly. “He is most quick-witted, you see, and he knew Caroline’s reputation would be in shreds by morning were it known she had been attacked by a ruffian. That’s why he kissed her, you see, to divert attention from the hideous truth. Why, no decent woman could speak to her ever again if the truth were to come out. As it is, only a very few of us know what actually happened. And we know, as well, that dear Julian managed to arrive in time to thwart any...ah...actual...ah, well, of course, you know that to which I refer. The girl was, quite simply, unharmed at the point at which Julian frightened the criminal away. I shudder to think of what might have happened had he been otherwise detained or engaged. Poor Caroline would be deranged by now. Locked away in an asylum, for certain,” The viscountess went so far as to give a small shudder. Edgar rather thought she was laying it on a bit thick, although, to be sure, Dolly Haverford was eating it up.

“I mention this to you, Dolly, only because I know you to be a woman of great discernment. I am sure you would never allow such a miscarriage of fate to befall poor, dear Caroline, as you...could...have suffered yourself.”

“I…I...” Dolly Haverford was doing her excellent impersonation of a gasping fish again.

“Exactly! Now, here is the slight difficulty...” Viscountess Alderson leaned forward again and reduced her voice to a near whisper. Dolly Haverford nearly toppled out of her seat trying to get close enough to hear. “You see, Julian now finds himself engaged to the wrong girl. He had reached an agreement with the cousin…it was to be announced as soon as arrangements were made. And Caroline—why the poor girl is over the moon about young Rokeby—you remember him, Dolly, he’s Estelle’s son—he’s not here yet for the Season. So we have two young women heartbroken, one gentleman engaged to the wrong girl, and one waiting in the wings while his beloved is married to the wrong man. All because you and Mr. Randall happened into the maze quite a moment too soon.”

“Yes, but...”

“Ah, you are probably going to suggest that it’s simply too late to undo this damage,” the viscountess continued on, implacably. “Or, that the truth will do Caroline more harm than an unhappy marriage would.” Dolly Haverford looked a bit befuddled. Clearly she had not been about to suggest any such thing.

“Well, I have an idea, and, with your cooperation, and, of course, that of Mr. Randall, I think it will work.” The viscountess paused again. Edgar could hardly wait to hear this one. “You will go to the Assembly Rooms this evening, Dolly, and casually mention to one or two of your dearest friends, with luck those to whom you originally spoke of the incident, that you are most upset to find you have been the unwitting pawn in a very naughty practical joke.”

“I…I don’t understand,” Lady Haverford ventured.

“Oh, it’s quite simple, Dolly, although, to be sure, you must act most aggrieved. You must let on that you were the butt of a jest. That the young people had arranged for you to happen upon a most awkward scene, just to see how far the
on dit
would spread in a few days.”

“Oh, but no one would believe that, Lady Alderson,” Dolly stammered out.

“Why, of course they will, Dolly, if you are convincing enough. Of course, you must also play down a bit of what you originally reported—Caroline not terribly disheveled or upset—that sort of thing. All a grand joke at our generation’s expense, don’t you see? I shall back you, of course. I shall report that I came upon them laughing about it a few moments later.”

“But in the last few days, no one has set things to rights—Julian and Caroline are acting as if they are engaged.”

“Ah, but they are not, are they? There has been no formal announcement. Indeed, Julian danced only with the cousin at my soiree.” The viscountess leaned forward. Edgar had the sudden notion that he was watching a great cat stalk its intended victim. “Dolly, it all depends on you. You are a good dissembler, are you not? I seem to recall....” She let the remark hang unfinished. Edgar would have given the earth to know what lay unspoken between them.

“I suppose I could try....” Dolly Haverford managed to squeak out. She had resumed the dry-washing of her hands.

“Excellent, Dolly. I knew I could count on you to set things to rights. It all depends on you. And Mr. Randall, of course. He will be there to back your story, won’t you, Mr. Randall?”

“Why, of course, madam. How could I not, under the circumstances?”

“How could you not, indeed, Mr. Randall,” she replied, dryly. She stood suddenly, hoisting herself regally on her gold-tipped cane. “I will take my leave of you, Dolly. Delicious tea, thank you.” She turned and walked a few steps to the door. Dolly Haverford stood staring, nonplussed, at her stiff back. The viscountess turned once again. “Incidentally, Dolly,” she said
,
“I’m having a small dinner party in a few days. I shall send round an invitation for you. I hope you’ll find it amusing.”

“W—why, I should be honored, Lady Alderson. It’s so kind of you to include me.” Dolly Haverford had certainly never received a better invitation in her life. She was quite pink in the cheeks about it.

“Then that’s all settled. Mr. Randall?” the viscountess threw over her shoulder as she turned again for the doors. Sketching a quick bow in Lady Haverford’s direction, Edgar strode off behind the viscountess. A fascinating afternoon this was turning out to be.

* * * *

The Viscountess Alderson’s well-sprung carriage wended its way through the streets of Bath. Edgar kept a sharp look out for any of his friends. It never hurt to be seen
tête-à-tête
with a peeress, particularly the one who set the social tone every Season. But, alas, one could never find a friend when one needed one. Even in the privacy of her own carriage, the viscountess’s back did not touch the seat. She sat, ramrod stiff, gnarled hands atop the gold ball on her cane, but her usual austere expression was decidedly improved by a sly smile.

“Well, that was a difficult but profitable visit, wouldn’t you agree, Mr. Randall?”

“Yes, it certainly was, Lady Alderson. Quite admirably done, I must say. I am in awe of you.”

She gave a sniff and turned her attention to the small window.

He could not stand the silence. Particularly when he positively had to know what on earth had been left hanging, unspoken, between the two women. “But, madam, if you please, what was Lady Haverford so frightened of? I’ve never seen anyone look so horrified as she did when you mentioned her marriage.”

“Well, since you’ve obviously surmised a part of it, I will tell you, Mr. Randall. But first, I must remind you of your vow of silence. I never blackmail anyone if I don’t intend to keep my part of the bargain.” She waited with a chilly expectance.

“Oh, indeed, I remember and re-avow, madam.”

“Well, then. I will tell you that Dolly Haverford was born into this world a shop girl. Parents in service, that sort of thing. Mortimer Haverford’s second son, Charles, who was, not to put too fine a point on it, quite possibly the stupidest boy ever born, fell head over heels in love with one very lovely Miss Dolly Snipes, and, when thwarted by the
pater familias
in his efforts to make an honest woman of her, simply took matters into his own hands, carried her off, and wed her—eventually—without the blessing of the family. As you might imagine, old Sir Mortimer hushed the matter up, and cut the boy off immediately, only to quite sadly lose his first born, his only other son, in a hunting accident shortly thereafter. It became necessary, of course, to bring the hapless Charles back into the good graces of the family, but he wouldn’t come without his dear Dolly. So, the girl was fixed up, tutored in the finer social graces, and passed off as a distant cousin. There was an enormous country wedding, and everything was quite all right after that. Most fortunately, there was no child on the way or it never could have been managed so neatly.”

“But how on earth did they manage to pull off something that bold? Surely one or two must have known—even servants will talk amongst themselves.” Edgar knew his gossip and knew that it, like water, would find a way to run out.

“There were a very few who knew, and no one outside the family. Sir Mortimer’s household was not overlarge, and most of the retainers had been with the family all their lives. You know how it is in the country—servants hold the same position from one generation to the next, terribly loyal. I believe a few received rather generous pensions, and that, as they say, was that.”

“But how did you know, madam?”

The old woman gave a wicked chuckle. “I was one of those few inside the family who knew. Oh, yes,” she went on, obviously noting his confusion. “The Haverfords are distant cousins on my mother’s side. It was their good fortune that I was close to one of the sisters and visiting at the time.” She gazed out of the carriage window, and he fancied she was looking rather smug.