Edith Layton (8 page)

“Well, I’d say you make a case for yourself, Mr. Wycoff,” Mr. Ames said. “But wait until you see what Virginia can do with May!”

“If he’s still here by then,” a voice said from the doorway. William stood there, posed dramatically. He looked tired, travel-stained and rumpled, but curiously smug.

“It’s only a month from now,” Wycoff said, watching William carefully. “I see no reason why I can’t be here.”

“Do you not?” William asked whimsically as he strolled into the room. He noted the seating arrangements, his face stiffening when he saw Lucy sitting close to Wycoff’s side.

“Good evening, everyone,” William said, stripping off sweat-stained riding gloves. “I’ve just returned from Richmond town. A very interesting trip. Early in the spring for a fishing expedition, you might say. But you know,” he said playfully, “it was a good one.”

“Then do tell us,” Mr. Ames said jovially. “Have a glass of something bracing, because it looks as though you’ve come straight from Richmond town, at that.”

“Indeed,” Mrs. Ames said, staring at his mud-crusted boots and dusty breeches, “without washing up first. Mr. Bellows, I’m surprised at you. What would your mama say?”

William’s dark face flushed, but he showed a gritted smile. “That I was remiss. I beg your pardon. But it’s a long trip from Richmond to my home, and your hotel was on the way. Do you want me to leave, then, and not hear of my success?” he added, with another significant glance at Wycoff.

Lucy frowned. William was too jubilant. There was too much malice beneath his words; even his pleasantries sounded like a threat. He looked the way he had the night she’d sent him away for forcing his kiss on her. Except for his eyes. They looked as they had just before he’d grabbed her.

“Then tell us,” Mr. Ames said amiably, “because I think Mr. Wycoff and I are done with our wager. He’s picked England for spring, I’ve wagered ours is just as good or better.”

“A wager, is it?” Wycoff laughed, “Mr. Ames,
you’re a betting man? What does your good wife have to say to that?”

“I say he’s safe in wagering with a gentleman, Mr. Wycoff,” Mrs. Ames said merrily, “but who’s to decide the winner?”

“And I say,” William said loudly, coming to stand in front of Wycoff, his voice harsh, “that it’s best to know who you’re wagering with. Because it is not ‘Mister’ Wycoff at all, is it?” he asked Wycoff. “It’s
my Lord Wycoff
,” he said, with a great mocking bow.

Lucy’s eyes went wide.

“Yes, my lord Hathaway Wycoff, the viscount Wycoff, baron Dalhousie,” William went on triumphantly, “though I hear he prefers to be called Wycoff by his friends. But never ‘Mister’ Wycoff! Unless, of course he’s in America. A well-known gentleman in England, a common fellow here, though. And so he prefers it to be—in every way.”

Lucy stared at Wycoff. “It’s true?” she asked him.

He nodded, his eyes still on William.

“What? But why not tell us, then?” Lucy breathed.

“Because,” William answered for him, jovial as Mr. Ames now, “I suspect he didn’t want you to know who he was.”

“Why?” Lucy asked Wycoff again, her brow wrinkling.

“Because he’s married,
my dear
,” William said, in a parody of Wycoff’s usual expression. “Married,
and famous in England for his women, his amours, his affairs, even so. His seduction of every female who takes his fleeting fancy.”

Lucy’s hand flew to her heart. Wycoff’s face went taut. The room was deathly still.

I
t’s so?” Lucy whispered in shock, not looking at anyone but Wycoff. “With all we spoke of, all you told me…you didn’t tell me
that
? Oh no, please don’t tell me that.”

“Do you want him to tell you or not? Make up your mind,” William said with a harsh laugh.

But no one else smiled.

The Ameses, their daughters, cousins, and guests seemed frozen in place. William sneered. He hooked his fingers in his waistcoat, looking smug. But he shifted from foot to foot as the silence grew.

Wycoff had eyes only for Lucy. He could see her freckles standing stark against her sudden pallor and his own color paled a little. “Why?” he finally answered. “You want to know why I style myself a ‘mister’? It was a simple mistake. I went on the way
I’d begun. When I came to this country a year ago the customs officer at the dock was harried. In his haste shuffling papers he said an absent farewell to a ‘Mister Wycoff’. The porters picked up the name with my bags. I didn’t correct them and soon found it was less complicated to be known as such here. I also discovered it made me feel freer than I had in a long while. More like everyone else, less burdened with the past. I forgot, in time, I suppose…No.”

He smiled ruefully. “There was that, true. But there was also the fact that I soon realized there was some antipathy toward those who styled themselves noblemen here. Or if not that, then outright mockery. It was much easier to be like everyone else. I didn’t try to conceal my finances, though, did I, Geoff?”

“No!” Geoff called out, “Plain pound dealing all the way, sir…I mean, my lord.”

“But you concealed your true self,” William insisted.

“Did I?” Wycoff mused. “But a seasoned traveler never likes to stand out in any fashion, because he can’t get a honest view of the world he’s visiting that way.”

“And you thought I’d be less honest if I thought you were a nobleman?” Lucy blurted indignantly, seizing upon the lesser part of his deception, rather than the larger issue of his marriage, glad her anger was rising to tamp down the hurt and confusion she felt.

The look in his eyes gentled. He tilted his head
and gazed down at her as though she was the only one in the room with him. “No. It’s just that it wasn’t time to change it with you, was it? And timing is everything in this life. Well, think on. What a coxcomb I’d look if I suddenly told you, ‘By the by, and to boot, I’m a viscount, my dear.’ I didn’t want it to look as if I was trying to influence you with it. But it wasn’t part of any plan. You know I was living from hour to hour with you.”

She nodded slowly, lowering her gaze, silenced by his answer, and embarrassed at the way everyone in the room was looking at her and Wycoff. She needed to believe him, in that at least. And it made some sense. But not to anyone who didn’t know what had been going on, all unsaid, between them.

William knew and it made him angrier. The look in Lucy’s eyes was not the happy fantasy that had kept him warm during the hours he’d been madly riding back, hurrying to lay Wycoff’s deception at her feet. “A neat story,” he said with derision, “and not likely. Why do you think he really went on that way when he came here?”

“I imagine you’re yearning to tell us,” Wycoff drawled.

“Too right!” William shouted.

“Then go on,” Wycoff said, “but pray lower your voice. There may be people sleeping somewhere in the district.”

William flushed. “You came to these shores as a mere ‘mister’ because…”

“Well, but many English noblefolk do,” Geoff interrupted with spirit, “seeing as how some folks
here still have a problem dealing with them, given the late hostilities, and such.”

“No.” William growled, “Say rather, given my lord’s proclivities and such.”

Someone gasped, the room went still again. Lord Wycoff rose to his feet. “
Do
go on,” he said, looking down at William with no expression on his face, and ice in his eyes.

The difference between the two men was stark. Wycoff was the taller by several inches and older by several years. William was stockier, and much more excited. His dark face was flushed, his black eyes snapped with anger. Wycoff stood facing him, composed and quiet. But somehow, it was he who was the more dangerous looking. It made William bluster.

“Your infidelities are common knowledge,” he told Wycoff, “Ha!
Famous
, is the word I heard. Or
infamous
. They say your wife plays fast and loose, too, and that neither of you mind the other’s unfaithfulness. That don’t make it any better—maybe in England it does, but not here, I promise you. But that’s not the worst! To lie to Lucy! What you planned for her is contemptible.”

“So I lied?” Wycoff said too quietly, the only hint of his emotion the way he bit off each word. “Indeed. Tell me what I had planned.”

“Simple enough,” William said, unconsciously backing a step. “You came here looking for an American wife.”

“But you just said he was married,” Geoff said in confusion.

“Exactly!” William said triumphantly.

“The fellow’s run mad,” Mrs. Ames remarked to her husband. “His poor Mama. It comes from her not letting him marry earlier, mark my words, just as I told her, a man needs his outlets.”

“A second wife,” William hissed. They all stared at him. “It’s not like you don’t know about such things,” he said. “What about Mr. Fairchild, eh? And the stir when his wife came from Liverpool to confront him and his innocent but false wife,
and
their three children. That was a nice moment, wasn’t it? Or all the talk about Mr. Booth? He pulled up stakes and moved that poor girl who thought she was his wife and her babe to the middle of nowhere when the rumors about his true marriage reached his ears. Far from that poor girl’s ears too, he hoped. It’s common enough. You all know it.”

He faced them like a hellfire preacher on a Sunday morning. “Some get away with it. That’s why others try. Divorce’s almost impossible in England, murder’s too risky. What’s a fellow to do if he’s tired of his wife, then? He sails away to us, that’s what. It’s a big country with lots of room to get lost in. He takes a new name and a new bride, and who’s the wiser, thinks he? Sometimes, no one.”

“Sometimes not,” Geoff said, shaking his head. “When he dies, death notices get put in the papers, and then heirs come out of the woodwork, even from across the sea.”

“But what does he care by then?” William asked triumphantly, looking at Wycoff. “He’s had his fun. The trouble comes to his new family. It’s just such
care-for-nothings who do such vile things. Like my lord here, who came looking for a country wife, one he could hide away to see to his comforts until the day he died, with her none the wiser than his wife in England.”

“I see,” Wycoff mused. He chuckled. The sound startled his listeners. Lucy raised her bowed head and tilted it to the side, trying to see his expression better. Wycoff gave her a particularly sweet smile before he turned his attention back to William. “Very clever of me to use my real name, only just sans the title, then, isn’t it? Where did you come by this glorious scheme of mine?”

“I just met with Lady Truesdale! In Richmond,” William said triumphantly. “She saw you with a young woman in Richmond, and heard about your liaison with her. But that girl had a father and brothers. It was obvious what you were planning because you sheered off after you met them. In fact, Lady Truesdale said you tried to engage
her
attentions the moment you saw her, but were foiled because she knew you by sight and knows of your wife, too. The one thing you didn’t count on…”

He stopped, because Wycoff was now laughing outright.

“You’ve met up with Annie Truesdale?” Wycoff said, grinning. “Where is the baggage? Probably halfway back to England with what you paid her. She’s a clever bargainer. My man Perkins was at the same hotel with her in Richmond. He was waiting for me to send for him when I found a place to settle.
She was waiting for someone to fund her, or so he wrote to tell me. Good for her, someone ought to profit from this folly.”

There was the sound of giggling from the front hall, and a merry and exquisite face peeked in the doorway. The lovely female standing there raised a gloved hand and curled her fingers in a childish wave, until her laughter bubbled up again and she used that little hand to cover her mouth. William’s head reared back.

“Good evening, Annie,” Wycoff said. “Won’t you come in? No? Don’t blame you, my dear. Why in the world did you bring her, Bellows?—Ah. As witness, of course. But why did you come, Annie? Probably one step ahead of the bailiffs, as usual?”

Wycoff sighed. “‘Lady Truesdale’ is an actress fallen on hard times, Bellows. She was stranded here in America when she parted with her acting company. Her face is her fortune, but unfortunately her acting is not. Oh come, Annie, don’t pout. It’s hardly a secret. I always said if you had a voice as lovely as your face you’d have made Mrs. Siddons leave the stage.”

She blew a kiss off her glove to him, and Wycoff turned his attention back to his listeners. “I met Annie in Richmond, true. But that’s the only thing true about her knowledge of me.”

“Deny that you’re married, then!” William raged.

“I won’t.” Wycoff said.

Now Lucy did gasp. Wycoff gave her a small, sad smile. “Have faith,” he told her softly. “I don’t have
to deny it,” he told William, “because I did have a wife. But no longer. She’s dead, six months past. It’s a matter of record. English papers carried the notice, it was noted in
The Gentleman’s Magazine
and other journals of record. A carriage accident, in the Alps—far from where I was at the time, by the way, if that’s to be the next insane accusation.”

“But you were married when you arrived in America,” William said, grasping for leverage as he saw his expensive house of cards crumbling.

“So I was,” Wycoff said, raising an eyebrow. “Now I’m not. Your point?”

“But—but—you were unfaithful all those years!” William stammered.

“What’s that to the point?” Geoff cried. “If it’s even true. See here, Bellows, you’ve overstepped yourself. Accusing Mr.—Lord Wycoff, of all sorts, when he’s done nothing improper since he got here but put your nose out of joint.”

“Right. I’m that ashamed of you, William,” Mrs. Ames said, “stirring up hornet’s nests to sour a good thing for our Lucy, because it looks like you won’t get your way. Shame!”

“I was only trying to protect you,” William said, staring at Lucy with wild eyes.

“Oh, William, I know,” Lucy said wearily. “I suppose I should thank you for it, though I can’t. Because the way you went about it was wrong, small, and mean spirited. I’m a woman grown, with a mind of my own, and I’ll thank you to remember that, too. You should have come to me with the
information, not made such a scene. I give you good night, William, and ask that you don’t return here for a while, at least. I’m very angry with you.”

He took a step toward her.

“
Very
,” she said, and he stepped back.

He nodded, gave them all a furious look, and marched out of the room. The tips of his ears colored as Jamie burst into applause, and the girls started to giggle.

“Enough of that, my boy,” Wycoff told Jamie quietly. “A gentleman accepts winning as graciously as losing. Bellows!” he called. He left the room, striding past Annie Truesdale and a neatly dressed man standing beside her in the hall. Wycoff stopped William by the door. “Before you go. A word, if you please.”

William paused, with one arm in his coat. “‘Vile,’ I believe you called me?” Wycoff said. “Let me see, you also called me ‘contemptible,’ did you not? And insulted the memory of my late wife? There’s more, but I’ll let the rest pass. This is certainly enough. Name your seconds, and your weapon. I’m at your service.”

William stared up at him.

Wycoff bowed. “Yes, I am inviting you to a duel, sir. A formal challenge to a more regular form of combat to pay for the insults you attacked me with.”

William gaped at him.

Wycoff’s eyebrow lifted. “Don’t tell me you require the tedious business of a glove or a glass of wine in your face? They’re only used to add to the
insult, and we don’t need that here, do we? I’d prefer to be discreet. Think of the women, and the children, if you please. And so?”

“But—dueling is illegal,” William blurted.

“Yes. It usually is. But it’s never stopped me before.”

“I—I—” William stammered, regretting his always hasty tongue. “Me neither!” he said loudly, when he saw the contempt on Wycoff’s face. “You’ll find me willing.”

“Then, swords, sabers?”

“No. I’m a fair shot. Yes, pistols, then,” William said recklessly. “And I don’t need a damned second. I’ll face you now.”

“I meant a close friend,” Wycoff said with out-sized patience. “One who could consult with a friend of mine to be sure the matter is arranged as gentlemen.”

“I know that,” William said quickly, “but who will you call on? Geoff? Mr. Ames? They’ll spoil your sport.”

“Perhaps, perhaps not. Do you want to ask them to try? I doubt they’d think well of you for it, whatever their views on dueling. I won’t trouble them either. Perkins here would be glad to assist me, I think. Thank you for bringing him, by the way.”

The slender, soberly dressed man who had been standing in the hall stepped forward and bowed. “Of course, my lord. And I was not brought by Mr. Bellows. I heard his inquiries, saw he’d taken up Miss Truesdale, and so engaged a horse and fol
lowed them to you, thinking you might be in need of my services.”

“Very good,” Wycoff said. “Thank you. You were right, as usual.”

“Perkins?” William scoffed. “He’s naught but your valet.”

“Valet, man at arms,” Wycoff said. “He’s seen me through much. You protest because he doesn’t bear a title? I suppose we must seek another to second me to your satisfaction.” He raised an eyebrow in mocking inquiry.

William scowled.

“Then Perkins is acceptable?” Wycoff asked too sweetly. “Or is that you decline my challenge?”

“Never!” William said. “Send him to me tomorrow, then!”

“No,” Wycoff said, “Perkins will meet with your second at some neutral place. That’s the usual arrangement. You can send word to him here when you decide the time.”