Elyse Mady (24 page)

“No,” she decided impulsively. “You may invite Mr. Ramsay in.”

Wallis looked markedly uncomfortable with her decision but didn’t argue, disappearing instead back into the entranceway. In his absence, Hester brushed down her gown and quickly disposed of her apron, folding it neatly and setting it aside. The small tasks kept her busy and from panic.

She turned at the sound of footsteps in the hallway. Wallis knocked and then led a tall gentleman into the room. Even if she had not been aware of his relationship to Thomas, his face would have given the truth away immediately. Both brothers shared the same dark, curling hair, thought the eldest’s was more closely cropped. Their eyes were both a clear grey and their lanky frames announced them as sharing the same lineage. But where Thomas’s face was lined from a decade and a half aboard ship, Edward’s was only lightly tanned, a fact that Hester attributed to Thomas’s reports of his being an ardent outdoorsman.

The awkwardness of the situation seemed to affect all of them equally and they stood motionless, like actors in a classical tableau. No comportment manual covered the manner in which the eldest son of a baronet was introduced to his brother’s unwed inamorata.

Wallis stepped forward and in a clear voice said, “Mr. Ramsay to see Miss Hester Aspinall.”

“Sir.” She held out her hand so that he might shake it in greeting. For a moment, he hesitated, but then good manners trumped whatever misgivings he had about the woman his brother was living with and he took it politely.

“Miss Aspinall, I apologize for calling on you unawares.” He cast his eyes on her labours, and Hester saw the surprise, though swiftly hidden, at her pedestrian occupation. “I see I have taken you from your duties.”

Politeness obliged her to disavow any inconvenience and though she could barely contain her need to know the true reason behind his calling on her thus, she answered lightly, as though she met with Thomas’s relations on a daily basis. “It is nothing, sir. I am always happy to meet with any of Mr. Ramsay’s family. Have you been in London long?”

“Not long. I came up on business two days ago and expect I shall return to the countryside in two more.”

“Ah.” Hester cast about for something to say that could not be taken amiss. “The weather of course has been quite fine of late. The summer was very hot. I am sure that you enjoy more temperate climes when you are on your estate.”

“Yes, that is very true. But I will admit that I am as happy to rusticate at the height of the season as I am in the summer months. Routs and balls hold little appeal for me.” He paused, as though considering his next words. “I suspect you may hold a very different opinion on the merits of amusements here in the city, but I know my brother shares my views.”

“I believe you are right,” Hester agreed, conscious as she spoke that Edward Ramsay was watching her very closely. “Not that I put great store in the frivolities but I feel certain that Mr. Ramsay would spend all his time aboard ship were it not for the dreary task of increasing his enterprise and making a success of his undertakings. Certainly no country dance could compete with the allures of a compass rose.”

Her observation startled him into a laugh. When he did so, his resemblance to Thomas increased tenfold. He shifted, folding and refolding the gloves he held in his hands.

“May I presume upon your kindness, Miss Aspinall, and beg your company on a walk about Berkley Square? The day, as you say, is very fine and I find my spirits are always revived by a turn out of doors.”

“A walk?” Hester didn’t know what to make of his offer. “Do you not wish to stay here? Indoors? I am sure Wallis will prepare tea, or coffee, if you prefer.”

“Your offer is very kind,” he demurred. “But there are some matters of delicacy I would like very much to discuss with you and I would prefer to do so out of the reach of servants. Will you join me?”

There was no mistaking the determined set of his mouth. He would not brook opposition in this. Thus far he had treated her politely enough, but Hester knew antagonizing him would serve but little.

“Let me fetch my things.”

If he was surprised by the dispatch with which her preparations were completed, he did not reveal it. Instead, he simply led the way down the steps into Bruton Street and then westward, towards Berkley Square.

There were servants on errands, nursemaids with lively charges in tow and one or two tradesmen en route to their next appointment. By wordless agreement, they turned north once they reached the end of Bruton Street and began their circuit of the park.

Since she had come to live here, Hester had made the same journey alone, with George Simpson or with Thomas countless times and the familiarity of the route did much to ease her apprehensions. Whatever Thomas’s brother had come to say, she could bear it.

Autumn’s arrival was imminent. Today, as Thomas’s barometer had foretold, the sky was a brilliant cerulean, marked by a few insubstantial wisps of cloud.

“Miss Aspinall, when you asked me earlier how long I had been in London, I am afraid I told a falsehood. I said I had come on business, but my only business at present concerns you.”

A carriage emerged from the mews that ran behind Bruton Street. Hester recognized it as belonging to one of the neighbouring families. As always, the family did not acknowledge her. They waited until it had passed and then continued, Edward Ramsay’s fashionable walking stick swinging in counterpoint to their steps. His words stung but his matter-of-fact delivery relieved them of worst insult.

“If you are at all like your brother, I suspect you value plain speaking. So I will speak thus. You and I are, after all, perfect strangers. What is your business with me that you cannot discuss it in your brother’s home?”

He sighed and instead of answering her question, directed the conversation in an entirely unexpected direction. “My brother and I are not as close as some brothers can claim. Our paths have taken us on very different courses.”

“You to the land, Thomas abroad?” she guessed.

He threw her a sharp glance then nodded. “Yes, that is a fair enough summary, though it needs must leave out many of the particulars,” he said. “I do not know what, if anything, Thomas has told you of his family—”

“A little,” she admitted. “Of the brothers’ general situation and of your younger sisters’ love of shopping. I know you number five and that Thomas is third in that number.” Edward chuckled. “I have but a bare sketch of your temperaments and your characters but on those occasions when he’s spoken of you, he has always done so in tones of sincere affection. But that there is a gulf I will not pretend ignorance.”

“You do value plain speaking, don’t you?” he said. “But you are kinder than I deserve. The gulf, as you phrase it, is of long standing and it saddens me to think that it may not be bridged. But that does not diminish the bond I feel for my brother or of the obligations I owe him as a member of my family. Do you understand of what I am speaking?”

It was impossible to feign ignorance of his meaning. “You have heard of our friendship and wished to see for yourself what kind of woman would act so?” She tried to keep the anger from her voice but did not succeed entirely.

Edward winced but did not deny the charge. “He is my brother,” he said by way of explanation, the look on his face one of mingled discomfort and affection. Hester could not hate him for his interference, as much as she might wish to. That he cared for Thomas, despite their estrangement, was obvious. He was investigating her out of concern for his brother’s welfare.

“Yes,” she acknowledged his explanation as gracefully as she could. She knew she shouldn’t ask but she did so regardless. “And what had you heard, sir?”

Looking across the square to the classical facades that surrounded the square’s southern-most perimeter, he said, “I had heard from several correspondents, whose veracity I could not doubt, that my youngest brother, who hitherto had been living a blameless life of commerce, had lately begun an association with a young lady unknown to the ton and with whom it was understood, he was living without benefit of clergy, in his home.” He phrased it so neatly that Hester was appreciative of his efforts. When he turned away from studying the distant houses, he said, “Is that the case, Miss Aspinall? Have I been rightly informed?”

“Yes. You have.”

“And how long do you expect this arrangement to last? Have you entered into this because my brother led you to expect matrimony at some future time?”

“No, he has been completely forthright in his dealings with me and has never misled me or feigned promises he could not keep.”

“He has not asked you to marry him?”

It hurt, to hear a proposal of marriage from the man she loved more than anyone spoken of so inconsequentially. But given that Thomas’s brother had travelled a great distance at no inconsiderable trouble and expense, it was foolish of her to imagine that he considered the matter inconsequential. A brother, even an estranged brother, who ran the risk of allying himself with one such as herself was always a matter of the greatest consequence to his family.

Thomas had always denied this. Hester had always known the truth.

“He has not. But it doesn’t matter, sir, because I will be content to share my life with him irrespective of any marriage lines for as long as he desires it,” she said simply. She felt a little light-headed and realized with a start of surprise that she had forgotten to breath. “You see, I am in love with your brother and cannot imagine living my life without him. I expect that the time will come when he will ask us to part ways but until that time, I will be happy to share some small corner of his life.”

It was the first time she had ever said the words out loud and she experienced a rush of giddiness that not even her companion’s horror could mitigate.

That he was shocked by her admission, Edward Ramsay could not disguise.

“Forgive me, but I do not understand. Why would you situate yourself thus?” He looked at her as though trying to decipher a particularly vexatious puzzle. “Because you are not at all what I had been led to expect.” Hester could only imagine his correspondent’s reports, which she was sure would have been unflattering in the extreme. “You appear to me to be a young woman of good character and upbringing. Your dress, your speech, your manners, all proclaim you to be so. What could possibly happen then that you would be brought to such a pass? And even more so, how did my brother ever consent to such an undertaking? He must have taken leave of his senses.”

“How we came to be living thus is not important. What is important is that I love your brother and that he—”

“Has he told you he loves you?”

“Not in so many words, no. But he cares for me and my feelings are deep enough for the both of us.”
At least until he no longer cares for me.

If only Thomas’s brother had waited a few more days. Until after Thomas and she had had their “serious conversation.” Then this unpleasant confrontation might never needed to have taken place.

Edward peered down at her. “Good God, you cannot be serious! You are a kept woman. You can’t love him. It simply isn’t done. What could have come to pass that you would permit yourself to be so degraded?”

She couldn’t bear to see the expression of distaste on his face if she revealed her brother’s shame. She turned her face, watching as a governess cased after a young boy in skirts, pulling a toy wagon behind him as fast as his chubby legs would carry him. She chose her words with care.

“Degraded? I have never considered my connection to Thomas in any way degrading,” she declared. “Your brother is the best sort of man. He made a promise to me, and I to him. I will not bore you with the particulars, sir. It is enough to say that my brother has been detained and his livelihood suspended. His trial will be heard in two days’ time and had your brother not interceded I should have been left to suffer on the streets. Or worse.”

A look of bafflement replaced Edward’s anger momentarily. “He is in prison? In the Clerkenwell?” He named one of the Middlesex prisons that often took Londoners charged with a crime.

“Newgate. But all that you must know is that your brother and I have an understanding. I make no claim but that of love upon him.”

Edward looked flummoxed. “My brother is established. Wealthy. Able to support a wife in comfort. Yet you claim to have no interest in such things? Forgive me, but I find such altruism difficult to accept. Come now, Miss Aspinall, enough of this foolishness. How much will it take to make you see reason? Your presence here is an embarrassment to my brother, his family and our family’s honour.”

She cut him off. “Please, don’t.”

He looked down at her, no doubt taking in her wretched expression and said no more. Instead, he reached into his coat and withdrew his wallet. Opening it, he took out his card. Hester received it, unsure what message the gentleman was trying to convey.

“I would like to make some small contribution to your immediate resettlement,” he explained. “A token to ease the upheaval your removal will necessitate.”

“No. I won’t take your money.”

He continued to count the money as though she had not spoken. “There is two hundred pounds here. If you go immediately, without bother, and promise not to contact my brother again, there will be another such payment. Do you understand me?” His grey eyes were cold and they looked through her.

She shook her head, not trusting herself to speak.

He took her negative poorly.

“Three hundred, then. And another three to be drawn on my bank. But that is my final offer. You would do well to take it.”

Hester gave rein to her anger. “I understand you perfectly, sir. But you clearly, have failed to understand me. I love your brother. I will not take your bribes or your offers of remuneration, however you might couch them. I will not leave. Not until Thomas asks it of me, so you may put your money away, sir. It will buy you nothing here.”

Tight lines radiated from his mouth and his eyes flashed contemptuously. “You realize that there may be complications—difficulties—that follow you,” he said. “Difficulties that cannot be ignored. Six hundred pounds would go a long way to easing those problems.” He looked with significant intent towards her belly and his mortification made perfect sense.