Winter Wedding (11 page)

Clara was not much help to Lady Lucker the rest of the afternoon. Her mind was too preoccupied with the interlude in the study, trying to decide whether it was mere flirtation, in which case she should not encourage it, or if it was something more. The word
suitor
had been used, but to counterbalance that, there was Nel Muldoon with her particular claims on Allingcote.

With her mind in a turmoil, Clara threw out a magnificent piece of silver paper that could most certainly have been used to advantage again. Fortunately Lady Lucker did not come to know of the waste.

Chapter Ten

Herbert Ormond and Nel returned late in the afternoon, the former with no tales of attempted escape, and the latter in high spirits. A large throng, growing larger by the minute, gathered in the gold saloon before dinner. When Clara noticed out of the corner of her eye that Nel was working her way toward Prissie, she was alarmed. She watched, ready to intervene, but whatever passed between them, Prissie actually smiled and talked to her old schoolmate for quite five minutes without a single sign of pique.

Clara was prevented from discovering the subject of their talk, for Lady Lucker, casting a wide, pleading eye at her, asked if she would just gather up a tray of used glasses and get a servant to wash them as they would be needed very soon for dinner. Clara began attending to this in an unobtrusive manner and soon noticed a black form at her shoulder.

“Can you use a hand?” Allingcote asked. “I am not much good at drying, but will be happy to rinse these out for you. They are to be used for dinner, I presume?” He smiled as he spoke, for of course not even Lady Lucker would suggest that a guest wash the dishes.

“I take it Braemore also suffers a shortage of wine glasses, as you know the routine?”

“If it does, Mama has concealed it from me. I think you should hit Auntie up for an increase in your salary. She isn’t actually poor, you know, and she’s running you pretty hard.”

“I do know it, but at such a time as this, with so many mouths to feed, it would be maladroit of me to dun her. There is that dreadful Maximilian taking
another
clean glass. Why does he not just ask for a refill?”

“He’s ashamed to admit he’s on his third. He hides the empties behind our potted palms—littering our favorite island. Shall I speak to him?”

“No!” she exclaimed in alarm, as Allingcote took a step toward him. Ben laughed openly and taking up a tray, began collecting a batch of used glasses himself, with no air of behaving badly.

Clara made a stop at the dining hall to confirm that Miss Muldoon was placed next to Herbert Ormond and to notice with a rueful smile that she herself was once again well removed from Allingcote. She wished he would come and rearrange the seating scheme, as he had that afternoon.

During dinner, she was happy to see how well Nel and Ormond got on. She was surprised. Herbert was a good ten years older than the girl, and really she had always taken him for a sensible person. Several times she looked at the two of them, trying to figure it out. Though she did not notice it, Allingcote was as often regarding the direction of her intent gaze and wondering what this interest in Ormond denoted.

Some of the guests sang and played music after dinner. Clara remembered Ben had mentioned singing the “The Maid of Lodi,” but he did not do so. Nor did Nel perform, but she was kept entertained and out of mischief with the concert. She was apparently satisfied with her place between Allingcote and Ormond, the two most handsome young gentlemen in the room, both of whom were at pains to amuse her with mild flirtations.

Clara felt piqued at having no other company herself than Major Standby and his scar. Since Nel was safely occupied with Ormond, she thought Ben might take up the empty chair beside her, but he made no move to do so. He knew it was empty; she saw him glance at it twice. Once he seemed to be pointing it out to Ormond, but neither of them was willing to leave Nel to the other.

Not till the concert was over was there any move in her direction, and then it was Ormond who strolled over and chatted for ten minutes about the most trivial of social nothings, and about Miss Muldoon. Clara was not to go to the inn that night. Maggie had been given the job, so it seemed Clara was not to have a word with Ben at all. She happened to be glancing in his direction when he and Nel rose to go for their coats, and he took a detour toward her.

“We haven’t had a chance to chat all evening, Miss Christopher.”

Not having a chance was a strange way of putting it. She was not about to let him off with that. “Kind of you not to rob me of another opportunity to see Major Standby’s scar,” she said.

“I had to discover what sort of gentleman Mr. Ormond is, as I hope to use him as Nel’s escort.”

“My vouching for him was not sufficient?” she inquired coolly.

“Men behave differently with different ladies.”

“So I have noticed.”

He just laughed. “You are out of sorts. Get a good sleep,” he said. “You are back on duty tomorrow night. I’ll take Nel out in the morning. Perhaps Ormond will want to replace me in the afternoon. Have you got any jobs lined up for your helper?”

“If you refer to yourself, I cannot afford a lazy earl.”

“We have agreed I am beyond price. It is only the perquisites of the position I am interested in. I like the company,” he said, with a dashing smile. “Good night, Miss Christopher.”

He lounged away at his athletic pace. Looking at his retreating form, Clara thought she had never seen such an exasperating gentleman. Or one with such a well-shaped head. Not round like an orange, or pointed like a pineapple, not flat-backed like a Teutonic head but a nice shaped head. She was gazing after him bemusedly when Maggie accosted her. She was already dressed in her pelisse.

“Has Ben been teasing you?” she asked.

“No, not at all. It is your turn for the inn tonight, Maggie. Don’t let Nel cozen you she is hungry. She only wants to get downstairs for some reason. Early morning is the danger period. She slipped off on me around seven-thirty this morning.”

“It’s all right. Ben says Moore hasn’t arrived yet.”

Clara gave her a startled look. “Who is Moore?”

Marguerite put her fingers over her mouth. “Oops! I think I’ve let the cat out of the bag. I thought Ben would have told you about Moore.”

“But who is he?”

“A handsome rogue,” Maggie laughed. “And I wager you can figure out the rest.”

It did not take Clara long to figure out that Moore was involved in some troublesome romance with Nel. She was not entirely sorry to be missing out on a sleepless night at the inn when she learned it.

Clara’s chamber on that night was the dressing room next to Lady Allingcote’s, vacated by Maggie. Lady Allingcote was already in bed with the adjoining door closed when Clara went up. Clara slept soundly and rose in the morning ready for another full day. She was not prepared for a new twist, however. Lady Allingcote made quite a point of sitting beside her at breakfast and engaging her in conversation. When Clara finished eating and rose to begin her chores, Lady Allingcote insisted on helping her make space for the wedding gifts in the blue parlor, where they were being displayed.

The lady was outstandingly friendly, and also markedly inquisitive. Clearly some indication had been made to her to get to know Miss Christopher. Clara could not but wonder at the reason for it; could not help thinking it was Ben who had put her up to it. It made her nervous, and she felt she was not appearing to best advantage. She answered the questions put to her briefly, but did not contribute much voluntarily. All her usual store of small talk dried up. She had thought she could converse pleasantly with anyone, but found that with Ben’s mother eyeing her carefully, she had nothing to say. Her rootless life seemed suddenly shoddy.

When the job was done, Lady Allingcote said, “When can you spare a few weeks to us at Braemore, Miss Christopher?”

Clara was dumbfounded at the idea. Lady Allingcote seemed to think her style of living was even worse than it was, that she would move in with just any chance acquaintance. Her being with Lady Lucker was already an imposition—only Oglethorpe’s cousin. “I—I am to return to my aunt when she comes back from Greece, ma’am,” she said.

“That’s nice. I hope she will spare you to us for a visit. Maggie is very eager to have you. Indeed we all are, Benjie and myself, too.”

It came to Clara’s mind that Maggie always did as her brother asked. She had got on well with Maggie, but hardly so well that an invitation had been anticipated. “I really don’t know. I shall have to wait till Auntie is back,” she said, blushing pink as a rose. Her answer sounded ungracious to her own ears.

“It won’t be too long, I hope. Sometime in January, if you can make it. I love to have company in January. It helps get through the dull winter. But we shan’t be too dull. Benjie will show you around. He will like to do it.” There was just some little significance in these last remarks, some inflection of voice that implied Benjie was at the bottom of it all. It was enough to turn Clara completely mute.

Lady Allingcote smiled in contentment as she left the room. She was relieved to see Miss Christopher was a very nice young lady indeed. Not forthcoming, as she had feared, and while quite pretty, it was not a pair of eyes or a conning smile that had been the cause of her son’s command to “Make Miss Christopher come to us.” Odd Ben had never told her the lady’s name before. He had mentioned, “The girl from the Bellinghams’ “ from time to time over the past months. Maggie used to tease him about her.

Lady Allingcote had been afraid she would find Ben’s mysterious lady to be a slightly older, slightly sharper version of Nel Muldoon. She had come to dread the day she must meet her, but she had met her, liked her, and been assured by Charity that she was a lovely young girl with no airs or graces about her, before she even knew she was Ben’s mysterious friend. Clara Christopher would do very well. Indeed if she had been found to do less well, no very strenuous objections would have been raised to a girl who might supplant Nel Muldoon in her son’s affections.

Clara was happy to make her escape from this unwelcome bout of attention, but she required a little time to compose her thoughts. She went to her room, wondering if Ben had engineered the invitation and wondering whether she should accept it. She went downstairs half an hour later, eager for his return to Branelea, to see if he would add his own solicitations to his mother’s. He had not returned, nor had Maggie, who might have been subtly pressed for news.

Clara was soon caught up in other chores, and when luncheon was announced, the three from the inn came in, red-cheeked from a walk in the country. No snow had fallen yet, but the air was uncomfortably brisk. It seemed hard that the innocent Allingcotes should be so inconvenienced because of Miss Muldoon. Only Nel expressed any displeasure with her morning, however, and when Ormond complimented her on her good color, she too let on she had enjoyed the exercise.

In the afternoon, Clara was to go to the village for Lady Lucker. She decided that while she was about it, she would take her books back to the lending library. They were due that day, and no more than her hostess did she wish to disburse a penny when it might be avoided. When Nel heard of the outing, she pulled Clara off to a corner to hear a great secret. She would go with her, as she wanted to get Prissie a wedding gift. They had discussed it the evening before, which explained their five-minute talk without coming to blows.

“You have been out all morning. Why didn’t you buy the present then?” Clara asked. She had hoped Allingcote might accompany her on the outing and was not happy to have Nel’s company.

“We didn’t walk in the village.”

“Very well, but I’m leaving right away. You’d best get ready.”

Clara sought out Allingcote to tell him the plan, hoping he would squash it. “Excellent,” he said. “I  was hoping someone would think of something to entertain her, for I am busy myself.”

“I wonder if Herbert would like to come with us,” Clara said casually.

“He has gone to call on relatives living nearby,” he said with satisfaction. “Hearing there was a vicar in the house, Nel declined his invitation.” She hadn’t even the satisfaction of making him jealous. Herbert had asked Nel to go with him. “I am taking Mama to have Prissie’s silver tray engraved,” he continued, “and we must go to Woking to do it. Nel could come with us, but Mama particularly loathes her. She has managed to make herself unpopular in most quarters, poor girl.”

“Including this quarter,” Clara said grimly. There was no satisfaction in the meeting: no getting rid of Nel, no Allingcote to accompany them, no mention of the visit to Braemore, no flirtation at all.

His commiserating smile was the only ray of comfort. “You’ll be careful?”

“Why, has Moore arrived?”

He looked at her sharply. “Who let it out, Nel or Maggie?”

“A little bird told me. You’d best give me his description, in case we run into him.”

“If you see a brass-faced, black-haired, greasy hedgebird in high shirt points and nip-waisted jacket, driving an abominable spavin-backed pair of grays, that will be Moore.”

“The village abounds in greasy hedgebirds. They are endemic to Brickworth. What is his build?”

“Tall and gangly, wearing a jacket with padding to give him a set of shoulders. About twenty-five years of age. He leers a lot at all the ladies.”

“He sounds appalling! What does she see in him?”

“To be fair, the less demanding girls seem to tolerate him pretty well, but then Nel has no taste.”

“I don’t know about that. She likes Herbert.”

“Ormond is well enough, if you can stand his geniality.” He changed his tack when he realized he was being irrational. “All the ladies like Ormond, do they not? You, Maggie, and I have even seen the nose twitchers in gray bombazine giving him the eye. But in Maggie’s case it is his height that attracts her. She likes tall men, and like most statuesque ladies, is constantly pestered by ankle biters.”

“I shall introduce her to my Major Standby. He is over six feet.”