Emily Hendrickson (24 page)

Mary handed her the long white gloves she would need, even if she took them off to dine. The dainty reticule came next, a simple gold mesh that looked splendid with the sea green silk.

Dru took a deep breath before leaving the safety of her room for the dangerous waters below.

“Meow.” The small sound caught her attention.

“Kitty? Where have you been? Ever since that naughty Binky came, you have hidden from view. Poor kitty cat.” She bent down to stroke the plump silver-striped tabby cat. It would probably be thankful to see the last of the guests, too. Particularly that dratted dog!

Well, she must face her censure. She was certain it would be that. No gently bred young lady
ever
viewed a gentleman less than fully clothed. Her downfall was so humiliating. What was even worse was that she would do it again if it were necessary!

“Miss Herbert.” Mr. Vane stepped forth from the shadows to greet her at the bottom of the stairs. “You are in first looks.”

“And good evening to you,” Dru replied with a smile. It was nice to have at least one person of whom she need not be wary.

“Come, walk in with me. I always dislike entering a room by myself.” He offered his arm, which she was glad to accept.

“That is a piece of nonsense, sir. A more polished gentleman I cannot imagine.” Dru beamed up at him, thinking it was a pity he would never be more than a friend.

“Not even Brentford?”

“We shall not discuss our host.” She gave him a searching glance before checking to see who had come down before them.

Belinda and Lydia chatted with Harry Metcalf. Bless his bachelor heart, he was being most agreeable to them.

Lord Ives spoke with Lady Felicia, a low-voiced conversation that seemed oddly earnest. Dru still felt there was something between those two.

A sound behind her alerted her senses. Lord Brentford had entered the room. How she knew this, she wasn’t certain but she did. She gestured to the fire-place across the room. “A bit of warmth would be welcome this evening. There is a faint chill in the air.”

Mr. Vane amiably escorted her to stand near the small fire. Like everything else in this house, it was neatly done. Once established there, she was able to turn to face Lord Brentford.

Would everyone else think his smile too intimate? Or was it her overactive imagination?

He was at her side at once. “I took your advice.”

“A nap?” She tried to calm her heart. It kept wanting to race, to leap, to dance! He was standing much too close for her comfort.

“A rest. But sometimes a rest is sufficient. I needed to do a bit of thinking.” The look he sent her might be considered as significant. She hoped it wasn’t.

She was spared the results of his contemplation when his mother and her friends entered the room. Kitty trotted along beside Lady Brentford, looking about with a saucy nose-in-the-air attitude. She was free of that dratted dog.

“Oh, I wonder if I shall ever see my Binky again,” moaned Miss Knight at the sight of the cat.

“He will return,” Dru assured her. “He is simply doing a bit of exploring.”

Miss Knight sent Dru a grateful look. Lord Somers offered a consoling pat on Miss Knight’s hand.

Dru chanced to glance to where Lady Felicia stood near Lord Ives. She was watching Lord Brentford. She must have observed that intimate smile he had given Dru. What had she made of it? Perhaps she had thought nothing of that slow, suggestive smile he had bestowed. And pigs might fly. Lady Felicia was nothing if not awake on all suits.

Surprisingly enough, Lady Felicia said nothing regarding the supposed intimacy between Dru and Lord Brentford. Perhaps it was no more than Dru’s imagination?

However, Lady Felicia murmured often to Lord Ives, who escorted her to the dining room. Precedence was not strictly adhered to this evening. Lord Osman walked at Lady Brentford’s side, chatting admirably. Lord Somers escorted Miss Knight, perhaps suggesting ways to retrieve the nasty little dog. Mrs. Twywhitt and Sir Bertram seemed to have much to discuss. Dru caught a word about some bird and decided those two had much in common.

Belinda and Lydia chatted happily with Mr. Vane and Harry Metcalf.

Dru found Lord Brentford at her side. She would have settled happily for Gregory Vane as a dinner partner. Lady Felicia and Lord Ives were opposite where Lord Brentford settled her next to him. It was all confusion. She ought not sit here, but here she was on his right, in a place of honor next to her host.

No one else appeared to notice anything amiss. Perhaps Dru was being overly sensitive? It was not going to be the most comfortable dinner she had endured. Nor was it.

* * * *

Adrian almost smiled at the look of confusion on Dru Herbert’s face as he led her to the bottom of the table and placed her at his right hand. This, by right, should have gone to the highest-ranking lady attending. He knew it and she knew it, and he could tell she was baffled. Adrian inwardly grinned.

When all were standing by the table, he nodded to the gentlemen to assist their partners to sit down. The general noise of scraping chairs and polite conservation covered Dru’s hissed query.

“What is going on?”

“What do you suspect?”

Rather than tire the marchioness, the footman ladled out the cream of asparagus soup for each guest. At one ladle per bowl, it didn’t take long to consume it.

Adrian lifted the lid from the platter of beautifully prepared salmon. The footman assisted in serving that as well, using the handsome silver fish slice to divide and serve the salmon. Adrian offered a dollop of sauce.

Dru nodded, still looking wary, as though she thought someone would come to tell her to move elsewhere.

Adrian didn’t know when he had enjoyed himself so much.

The table had been set with the first course when they entered the dining room. It was surprising how the food could be shared, passed, and eaten as quickly as they did this evening. Except for Drusilla Herbert, who nibbled, frowned at her plate, then nibbled some more.

“It is not to your liking? Perhaps the next course is more to your preference?” Adrian said as he offered a tidbit of roast turkey.

She gave him a startled, anxious look. “Everything is delicious, my lord.”

He wondered if she had tasted one bite of it.

During the lull when the first-course plates and serving dishes were removed and the second course brought in, the conversation became general.

Harry Metcalf spoke up. “We thought we could take Miss Oaks and Miss Percy home in the morning before we leave. If it is agreeable with you, of course.”

Adrian glanced at the girls who were wide-eyed with the honor of having two London beaux attending them. “I should think that would be most agreeable. I am certain their parents will be pleased.”

The conversation surged again as Lady Brentford’s friends discussed the coming conclusion to the house party.

The second course was set on the table with the dishes arranged in perfect symmetry. Dru sampled a piece of fricandeau of veal, a bit of boiled ham with green peas, and a taste of the boiled chicken in celery sauce.

Finally it came time for the third course. The dishes and linen were removed.

Since they were celebrating Lady Brentford’s birthday, Priddy entered, bearing a fine cake decorated with candied violets. There were exclamations of delight from the women present and praise for Cook, who had created the masterpiece.

Adrian made a toast to his mother, wishing her many more happy years. He had given her the sapphire pin earlier and was pleased to note she wore it. Lord Osman had given her an amethyst ring, but whether it had greater significance Adrian didn’t know at this point. She wore it, and smiled often at the gentleman.

Priddy cut the cake and served it while such sweets as preserved oranges, olives, preserved peaches, and candied lemon slices on the little dishes from the epergne were passed around.

“This was a lovely thing to do for your mother. I believe her first name is Violet?” Dru gestured to the pretty candied violets that decorated the slices of cake. “How appropriate, to have violets on the cake.” Her. hands fluttered before her, then she clasped a dessert fork with the air of one grasping at a straw.

“Don’t be nervous. I will not upset you this evening. This is my mother’s affair.” He could see Dru visibly relax. “But this is where you belong for the nonce.”

She flashed him a look of apprehension but made no reply.

“I, for one, would never countenance such a thing,” Lady Felicia stated to Lord Ives, loud enough for others to hear her—and stare.

Adrian turned to her, wondering what it was that she would refuse.

At his look of inquiry, she said, “A forced marriage. Simply because someone decides that it should be done does not mean it must.” She darted a look at Dru Herbert, then back to Adrian.

“I would agree with you,” Dru inserted before Adrian could say a word.

“There are times when honor demands it, however,” Adrian added in a reflective tone.

Lord Ives spoke up at this point. “I think it is more important that two parties know love and share many tastes.”

Lady Felicia nodded in agreement. “There ought to be more than a melding of fortunes or a handing over of a dowry. Should women not have a bit of romance as well?”

“That would depend on the circumstances,” Adrian said, hedging a little in the event she was going to try to pin him down. Although, from the way she had turned to Ives, it would seem that he was now in favor. If that was the case, Adrian could only give thanks and his blessing.

“What circumstances would compel two people to marry when they far from wished such a thing?” Dru asked quietly. “I think it utterly stupid.”

“Ah—so you wish a bit of romance as well?” Lady Felicia asked, an odd smile tilting her lips.

“It would be pleasing.” Dru stared down at her plate. Adrian would have wagered that she was trying not to blush.

“Oh, indeed. Perhaps a touch of mystery adds to the whole. Wouldn’t you agree. Miss Herbert?” He toyed with his dessert fork, playing with a candied violet.

She sought her wineglass, taking a gulp of the fine champagne that deserved to be sipped and savored.

“Mystery?” she echoed, looking at him as though he would be her undoing.

“Don’t you think a bit of mystery is admirable in a relationship. Lady Felicia? I should think it would add a touch of spice to an otherwise bland relationship.”

“What on earth are you talking about, Adrian? Who has any mystery nowadays! Everyone knows everything about everyone. Society is not that large, and nothing can be kept secret for long.” Lady Felicia looked puzzled.

“Really?” Adrian slid his glance to Dru, who sat quietly and considerably paler. It was cruel to tease her so, but she deserved it.

At that fortuitous moment his mother tapped on her glass, rising to escort the women to the drawing room. Adrian compressed his lips when he assisted Dru to her feet. “I will see you shortly,” he murmured to her obvious confusion.

Dru hurried after Lady Brentford, almost running ahead to see if Priddy had brought in the tea urn with the tray of china and a dish of the biscuits Lady Brentford liked. They were delicate, crisp ginger.

Sighing with pleasure that all was in place, she assisted Lady Brentford to a comfortable chair, then poured the tea that the footman handed around, along with the crisp little biscuits.

What ever did Lord Brentford mean, going on as he had? Dru didn’t know if she was on her head or her heels. Confused? Panicked, was more like it. Whatever would come next!

Chapter Fifteen

When Dru came down to break her fast the next morning, she found the entry hall cluttered with cases and portmanteaus. Even as she hesitated by the bottom of the stairs, a traveling carriage drew up before the front door.

Priddy at his most stately summoned two footmen to begin stowing the various items, making a point that those belonging to Mr. Vane and Mr. Metcalf should be loaded first, with the things for Miss Oaks and Miss Percy to be placed in the very last.

“Last in, first out,” he muttered as Dru hurried away in the direction of the breakfast room. She paused at the doorway to note the neighbor girls were there.

“I am so glad you are here,” Belinda caroled. “I expect I shall see you at church on Sunday next, but I wanted to thank you now for making it possible for Lydia and me to enjoy such an agreeable visit here.”

Lydia’s eyes gleamed as she chimed in with her thanks. “I shall have a better idea of how to go on once we are in London for our Season. And we will have the advantage of knowing two nice gentlemen who are truly part of the
ton,”
she added with a grin.

The girls were about done with their light meal when Gregory Vane and Harry Metcalf strolled into the room.

Dru offered what she hoped was a pleasant smile, but inwardly she was thankful they were about to depart. What a pity they couldn’t spirit Lady Felicia along! Although, to be fair, that lady had been rather nice last evening. She had complimented Dru on the flowers, and had—after a look at Lord Ives—apologized when she had bumped into Dru.

The four who were about to depart engaged in cheerful chatter, allowing Dru to meditate about her own future. She would return to the rectory and resume her somewhat humdrum life. She hadn’t known precisely how mundane it was until she had a chance to experience something else. Running a household like this had been a challenge, one she had found much to her liking. Her reaction to Lord Brentford she ignored. What one couldn’t change, one left strictly alone.

She would miss this house—Mrs. Simpson and Priddy, and most of all Lady Brentford. At least Mary would come with her. Mrs. Simpson quite agreed. She rose from the table when she saw the others prepare to leave.

There was no sign of Lord Brentford in the entry-way. Evidently he remained abed, still not entirely back to normal. Nor had Lord Ives deigned to come down. The men would see each other in London later on, no doubt.

The girls and the London beaux clattered down the front steps, made brief farewells to
Dru
,
then straggled to the waiting carriage, laughing and joking.