Love In The Library (19 page)

She began to pace the carpeted floor in an effort to keep warm until the fire heated the room. Mr. Longford was sure to call upon her the following day. Since no one else would be around, that would be the perfect time for her to explain about the misunderstanding. But how was she to do that? She could hardly say,
I’m sorry, but I’d rather listen to
Faust
in German than listen to your drivel, Mr. Longford
. (And she was not conversant in that Teutonic language.)

It might be better if she resorted to a little white lie. That was it! She’d tell him her hearing was deficient. She was terribly sorry if she had mistakenly agreed to marry him when she’d thought she was merely admitting that his companionship was agreeable. All right. So it was more than a little white lie. It was a big, whopping falsehood.

Really, she was flattered that he’d determined he would like to spend the rest of his life with her—an untitled woman. The man was so enamored of peers that she’d always thought when the time came for him to marry, he would settle for the ugliest girl in the kingdom—if her father answered to Lord.

Though it was early, she decided to go to bed. The long carriage ride had been exhausting, and she hadn’t slept well the night before. She’d been steeped in remorse because of her iciness to Mr. Steffington at the completion of their dinner.

The man was far better off without her inflicting chaos into his heretofore orderly life.

Divesting herself of her wrinkled traveling costume, she donned a warm winter night shift and climbed upon her bed, confident that when Mr. Longford called the following day, she could clear up this terrible misunderstanding—without bruising his pride too badly.

She would even give him leave to tell people
he
had called off the betrothal. She cared not if that tainted her in other men’s eyes. It wasn’t as if she were interested in ever marrying again.

On second thought, she realized he would not wish to have it known he had broken a betrothal. A man who cared so acutely what others thought of him would not want it known that he’d broken an engagement. Gentlemen were honor bound to abide by their proposals.

She lay there in her dark room that was illuminated only by the fire in the grate. She wished she had closed the curtains around her bed, but she was too tired and too cold to get up now.

Memories of hers and Airy’s bedchamber at Granfield Manor flooded her. She remembered him closing her bed curtains, then thought of the narrow opening where she’d been able to glimpse him—the shirtless Adonis who had nearly stolen away her breath.

Even after they had argued later that night—after her ill-judged trip to Lord Seacrest’s library—she had felt warm and safe in that cozy bedchamber.

Because Airy was there.

She’d not experienced such a feeling since she’d been a little girl who believed her father could slay every dragon in the kingdom.

* * *

After he'd come home the night before to an empty house, Melvin turned in for a good night's sleep, then he rose early and took his horse to Sydney Gardens for a morning canter. Following a solitary breakfast, he went to the library while his siblings still slept.

It amazed him that being idle never bothered his brother. Melvin Steffington did not like not having a purpose. Now that he was no longer helping Mrs. Bexley, he needed to initiate queries regarding employment in private libraries. Dr. Mather would be helpful in that regard.

He was in the middle of penning a letter to his old mentor when Elvin strolled into the library. “Welcome home, old chap.”

Melvin looked up at his brother, who was nattily dressed. "Is this not exceptionally early for you to be up and shaved and dressed?” Melvin’s glance darted to the clock upon the mantle. “It's not quite noon."

"I thought that now that Annie's out, I'd take her around to call on Mrs. Bexley."

"How did you know Mrs. Bexley had returned to Bath?"

"Just because I wasn't here when you returned, dear boy, did not mean I didn't learn that you'd come home. I checked your bed every night you were gone." He came to sit near his twin. "How did the journey go? Did you find the Chaucer?"

Melvin shook his head remorsefully. "Things couldn't have been worse."

Elvin's brows lowered. "How so?"

"We not only had no success, but Mrs. Bexley has terminated my services."

"She didn't!"

"She did, though I had suggested that she might wish to do so."

"The poor woman's all alone in the world. She needed you. That wasn't very gallant of you! "

Melvin nodded. "She has remarked upon my lack of gallantry." He shrugged. "I cannot help it. I was born without the Graces. You hoarded all of them in the womb."

"Why, pray tell, did you suggest she turn you out?"

"I didn't actually suggest she turn me out. I just said that if my opinions were to be ignored, and she was desirous of endangering our lives, then perhaps she would be better off without me."

"Whoa! What's this about endangering your lives?"

Melvin told his brother about Mrs. Bexley's nocturnal trip to Lord Seacrest's library.

Elvin's eyes narrowed. "That was a damned stupid thing to do!"

"Unfortunately, that's what I told her, and she accused me of thinking her stupid merely because she was a female."

"What did you say to that?"

"I angrily retorted that her stupidity had nothing to do with her gender."

Elvin's roar of laughter filled the room.

"That was the first time she hurled something at me."

"There were others?" Elvin's brow lifted.

Melvin pushed his dark hair from his brow. "Take a look at that!" There was a sizeable knot on his forehead.

"Good lord! What did she throw at you?"

"This was from an apple."

"It's a good thing she's neither big nor strong. She could have cracked your head open!"

"Enough talk about my stupendously failed mission. Tell me all about Annie's come-out."

A smile transformed Elvin's face. "Know she's me sister and all that, but she really was the prettiest girl there. And she never lacked for a dancing partner. Not once. I wish you could have seen her."

Melvin had no regrets. At least not about missing a night at the Assembly Rooms. Even to see sweet Annie be the belle of the ball, he would rather not go there.

He thought about regrets regarding his and Mrs. Bexley's mission. Yes, he had regrets aplenty on that score. He felt guilty for not assisting the poor widow—no matter how vexing she could be.

But this dissolution of their partnership was in accordance with her wishes. She had made it abundantly clear that he lacked gallantry. And she seemed to delight in throwing objects at him. She was likely sitting there at Number 17 Royal Crescent right now thanking her lucky stars that Melvin Steffington was out of her life.

"I say, Mel, would you rather I not visit the Widow Bexley?"

"I wish her no rancor. Go ahead. You can still be friends with the lady." His brows lowered. "But you must be sure not to let Annie in on the secret of our journey. We must protect Mrs. Bexley's good name, and as sweet natured as Annie is, I'm not sure an eighteen-year-old girl can be trusted with secrets."

"Daresay you're right." Elvin stood. "Annie's dressing as we speak. Lizzy's pouting. She thinks she ought to be able to do everything her sister does."

"She actually wants to pay morning calls?" Melvin ranked morning calls only slightly more favorably than dancing at the Assembly Rooms.

"You know what social beings girls are."

That was rather the pity of it. Melvin actually knew very little about girls. Or women. "I daresay astutely gauging females is another of those traits you stole in the womb."

Frowning, Elvin mumbled. "While you were stealing all the intelligence."

"
Touché
." Melvin was far too truthful to claim false modesty.

From the doorway, Elvin turned back. "I take it you'd rather not call on Mrs. Bexley."

"I  doubt she'd want to see me."

After Elvin left, Melvin pondered whether his brother was smitten with Mrs. Bexley. Should he warn Elvin that she was somewhat betrothed to that damned Long
mouth
? How could a woman not know if she was betrothed or not? No wonder he would never understand their sex. There was nothing logical about them.

* * *

As Catherine dressed in a clean dress, thankful to no longer have to wear her wrinkled traveling clothes, she thought of Mr. Longford. While she was not particularly looking forward to meeting with him to break their mysterious betrothal, she would be inordinately pleased to have the meeting behind her.

She wished she'd never been civil to him in the first place. If only she'd learned to hone a bit harder an edge, she wouldn't have to be having this confrontation today. (Not to mention that she wouldn't have had to endure his insufferable companionship.)

Once she was dressed she started for the coziest room, then stopped herself. She no longer had any desire to walk into her library for she missed Mr. Steffington's presence too keenly.

As she stood in the corridor in front of her bedchamber, a knock sounded upon her front door. Simpson opened it. She had told him she was available to callers today.

It hadn't occurred to her that the other Steffington twin would be paying her a morning call. And this time with his sister! It was only then she remembered he'd brought her out while she and Melvin Steffington were away.

She met them in the drawing room, where Simpson had taken them. "How good of you to call, Sir Elvin." She offered her hand for him to kiss, then turned toward a rather pretty girl. It was quite remarkable how one could look so much like her supremely masculine brothers yet still be feminine and lovely. "You must be Annie Steffington. I am so sorry I was unable to attend your debut into Society, but now that I see you, I know it had to have been stupendously successful. Did you dance every set?"

The girl's black eyes—so much like Airy's—sparkled. "I did have that good fortune."

The two females sat at the silken settee, and Sir Elvin took a seat in an arm chair across from them.

"I suppose I should tell you," Sir Elvin said, "only me brother and I call her Annie."

The girl looked at Catherine, nodding.

"How silly of me," Catherine said. "I suppose your given name is Ann."

"Yes."

Even though the girl's coloring was the same as her twin brothers, and she was slender as they were lean, she was not tall like them, as Catherine had expected her to be. She was a bit taller than Catherine but still no more than average height. "You must tell me, Miss Steffington, were you filled with trepidation upon entering those lofty chambers of the Upper Assembly Rooms? Afraid no one would wish to stand up with you?"

The young lady offered Catherine a lovely smile. "Indeed I was! Do you mean to tell me all the girls have the same fears that plagued me?"

"All I expect, save those who are vastly conceited."

Sir Elvin cleared his throat. Was that a Steffington family trait after all and not peculiar to Melvin Steffington? "I am happy to see you're up and about after your illness, Mrs. Bexley. Allow me to say you look like one in the bloom of good health now."

"Thank you, Sir Elvin. Thank you, too, for bringing your lovely sister here." A pity he had selected this day to pay a morning call. For she knew Mr. Longford would be turning up at any moment.

A knock sounded upon her drawing room door, then Simpson entered, announcing that Mr. Longford was calling.

As Mr. Longford strolled into the chamber, she thought she had probably never seen so expertly tied a cravat nor such fine leather boots. No doubt, Mr. Longford patronized only the finest tailors and boot makers. As well as carriage makers.

He came to offer her a lovely nosegay of some purple flower she’d never before seen.

“Thank you. They’re beautiful. How thoughtful of you.”

“I am so delighted to see the bloom back in your cheeks. Your illness was frightfully worrisome.”

“You are too kind.” Her gaze went to Sir Elvin's sister. “Have you met Miss Steffington?”

Mr. Longford moved closer to the young lady and bowed. “Your servant, Miss Steffington. I had the opportunity to observe you at the Assembly Rooms two nights ago. You certainly did not want for dance partners."

"And it was her first dance at the Assembly Rooms," Catherine added.

"You looked as if you've been dancing your whole life." Mr. Longford spun around to face Sir Elvin. "Which twin are you?"

Sir Elvin smirked. "Can you not guess?"

Mr. Longford's eyes narrowed. "Melvin?"

Sir Elvin shook his head. "No. I left Melvin in the library."

"I take note that until recently, Mr. Melvin Steffington has been on the reclusive side."

"Yes," Sir Elvin said. "We are vastly different."

In mid nod, Mr. Longford whipped around to face Catherine again. "Pray, Mrs. Bexley, I just remembered an errand I wish my coachman to perform. Allow me to go tell him, then return to you."

Before she could respond, he was flying from the chamber.

He returned five minutes later, took a seat in a chair next to Sir Elvin, and made himself agreeable to Miss Steffington. "As I was saying to Miss Steffington, you look like one born to dance. It's the same with the woman to whom my brother is betrothed. You've no doubt heard of Lord Finchton?" he asked the young lady.

She looked perplexed. "I'm not sure that I have."

"He's quite exalted and happens to be a particular cousin to Miss Turner-Fortenbury, my brother's fiancée."

Miss Steffington looked suitably impressed.

Then the gentleman directed his attention at Catherine. "And you, too, my dear Mrs. Bexley, are an outstanding dancer."

"And Mrs. Bexley's  uncle is the Earl of Mountback," added Sir Elvin, whose amused gaze spun to Catherine.

"Is he not your mother's brother?" Mr. Longford asked.

Catherine nodded. "Yes. His father, the fourth earl, was my grandfather." It always made her a bit uncomfortable to discuss her mother's family's rank. Perhaps the discomfort had arisen when she realized her father's lack of rank made him unattractive to many in Mama's family in spite of his many attributes, which unfortunately did not include wealth.