The Heart's Companion

"I knew, sister dear, I should find you up and about early," cooed Lady Serena, breezing into the small breakfast parlor early the next morning. Her ornate morning gown was made with layer upon layer of gossamer yellow muslin. It fluttered as she walked.

"Since I was a child," her sister returned placidly. "What has you up this early? I was sure we wouldn’t see you for hours yet."

Lady Serena nodded. "I wished to talk to you," she began. She looked around for a footman, then shrugged and pulled out a chair next to Lady Elsbeth. "Privately, sister to sister. It is difficult when one is entertaining and must see to the guests’ comforts. I should never have brought the Willoughbys. They are so—so frightfully rural, don’t you think?" She grabbed the coffee urn and filled her cup.

Lady Elsbeth laughed. "I’ve scarcely had the opportunity to speak with Lord and Lady Willoughby. But they strike me as a quiet couple, inclined to stay together."

"Oh, they do. Boringly so." She took a sip of coffee. "But enough about them. What I really want to talk to you about is the Marquis of Conisbrough."

"Oh?" Lady Elsbeth said carefully, absently moving a slice of meat about on her plate.

"I could not believe it when he walked through that door last evening! The audacity!" Lady Serena reached over, laying her hand on her sister’s arm, halting Lady Elsbeth’s idle shuffling of food on her plate. "But I also wanted to tell you how proud I am of you, sister dear. The way you handled him. Oh, not the faint, of course. Any woman of sensibility would have fainted from the shock if they’d been in your position. No, what I found exceptional was your behavior afterwards. You were properly cordial, yet you displayed just the right degree of constrained friendliness. Perfect, perfect," she enthused, letting go of her sister’s arm. She leaned back in her chair, her expression reminiscent. "Ah, seeing you last night, I wish I’d seen you fifteen years ago when you turned down his marriage offer. And also later—in Vauxhall Gardens—when you told him what you thought of his manners and morals. Imagine a man maintaining two mistresses in separate establishments and offering marriage to a woman of exceptional birth! What could you do but turn him down?"

Lady Elsbeth froze. Carefully she laced her fingers together, placing her hands in her lap. "How did you know what occurred at Vauxhall Gardens?" she asked neutrally, though her pulse beat faster.

"Why—why you told me, of course."

"Did I? I seem to have forgotten ..." She had not told anyone about the encounter at Vauxhall. It was too private and painful to be shared. She cocked her head to one side. Strange. She’d all but forgotten the source of the tales that had led her to renounce the Marquis of Conisbrough. She did not forget now.

"Tell me, do you think him changed much?" she asked, raising her hands back to her plate and utensils.

"Conisbrough? Gracious, no. If anything, the man is worse. No doubt he engineered the entire scene last evening just for your discomfiture. Wasn’t that the first time you’ve seen him since you said good-bye?" Lady Serena asked.

"Yes, yes it was. Strange, isn’t it, that circumstances should be such that we wouldn’t meet again for fifteen years? Tell me, whatever became of those two mistresses?"

"Elsbeth! I’m surprised at you. What a question to ask me! As if I would pay attention!"

"I only thought as it was you who told me about them, you would know what became of them."

"Well, I only listened and learned because I knew you considered yourself in love. I thought it my duty as your elder sister to look out for your interests. After you promised not to see him again, I dropped the matter, of course. But what is this? I feel I am undergoing an inquisition!"

"I’m sorry, Serena. I suppose seeing Lord Conisbrough again brought back too many memories and too many unanswered questions."

"I don’t know what unanswered questions there might be. It all seems straightforward to me."

"Yes, I suppose it would ..."

"What? Oh, no matter. What I also wish to discuss with you, sister dear, are your plans once dear Jane is safely wed." She leaned toward her sister, her expression serious and her lips pursed in a tight bow.

"My plans?" Lady Elsbeth parroted back to give herself time to think.

"Excuse me, Elsbeth," Jane said, appearing at the doorway. Her knowing smile revealed she’d heard Lady Serena’s last statement. She ventured to interrupt to give Lady Elsbeth time to gather her obviously scattered wits. "Cook said there would be no problem, and I’ve ordered the structure swept clean. "

"Oh, an excellent idea," Lady Elsbeth said. She smiled at Jane, exchanging amused appreciation with her niece for whatever notion Lady Serena was about to bring forth, along with a thank you for the timely interruption.

Jane nodded and went down the hall in search of Mrs. Phibbs.

Lady Serena pursed her lips and shook her head at Jane’s interruption.

"I’m sorry, Serena. I believe you were asking about my plans?"

"Yes. For you know, it won’t be too much longer before Jane is wed. It can’t be. She is far too wealthy and attractive— in a dark way—to remain a spinster all her life. And what will you do when that happy event transpires? Please do not tell me you shall remain here at Penwick Park to take care of those two boys whenever Mary and Delbert Litton take it into their heads to go jaunting overseas! I swear, Mary is very like her father. I’m inclined to believe there is gypsy blood somewhere in the Grantley family. Nonetheless, she and Litton are well matched. But stay here you cannot."

"Why?"

"Because—Well, because you need a life of your own without being at the beck and call of our relations."

"That would be pleasant, Serena. But you forget I am virtually a charity case. I have a modest income for my needs, but it is certainly insufficient for maintaining an establishment, and I do not think I should like renting rooms."

Lady Serena shook her head adamantly, her dark, slightly gray-streaked curls bobbing back and forth. "Good heavens, no indeed. And besides, it is beneath you. The family would never stand for it. No, I have a better proposition. Come live with me."

"Live with you?"

"Yes. As certain as I am that Jane will be wed soon, so shall my dearest Millicent remarry. Then I shall be all alone. It is not a prospect I greet with equanimity, I can assure you. So, come live with me. We shall deal together very well, sisters as we are. And what could be more amenable in society’s eyes?"

"You make an interesting proposition. I should certainly give it some thought," Lady Elsbeth said, carefully controlling her expression.

"Please do, dear. Only think of the fun we should have together! I know I do."

"To be sure," her sister said dryly.

"There now, I’ve said my peace. You will give it some thought, won’t you?"

"Yes, I shall think on it."

Lady Serena sunk back into her chair. She sighed deeply and looked relieved—no, more than relieved. She looked satisfied. A bit like the cat at the cream pot. Lady Elsbeth wondered why it was important to Serena that she agree to live with her? If Serena intended to take her in as a charitable gesture—as she and Jane had assumed—she would not have hesitated to make some remark to that effect. She would have basked in her magnanimity. And she would have informed Elsbeth of the few trivial tasks she would expect her to perform. But Serena had implied that they were to be equals, though Elsbeth felt that her words did not ring true. Elsbeth could not begin to fathom her sister’s plan.

Lady Serena straightened and reached up to pat her curls. "Good. Now that that’s settled, what are we to do today? Needlework? A little visiting, perhaps? What have you and dear Jane planned?"

Lady Elsbeth suppressed a smile. She told Serena she would think on her proposal and already her sister was taking it as a fait accompli. She decided not to correct her. "We thought a picnic would be a pleasant diversion."

"A picnic!"

"Yes. Cook is preparing a cold collation. Mrs. Phibbs is providing suitable blankets for us to sit on. And as you heard Jane say, the little Grecian temple has been cleaned. We shall all go up there, take turns with the telescope, and enjoy our repast."

A sharp frown pulled at the corners of Lady Serena’s lips. "I hope you do not intend that we should walk there!"

"Why not? We often do."

"Then that explains your shamefully brown complexions. No, no, no. That will never do. We will take a carriage up. At least the Folly is covered, that should shield us from the worst of the sun. Really, Elsbeth, I cannot countenance a walk of that length, and you shouldn’t either. It causes unladylike muscles to develop. Nothing can be more harmful to a lady’s success with a gentleman than to display an inordinate amount of muscle. A woman must stay soft and—and—"

"And weak," offered Elsbeth.

"Exactly."

"I do not see how a little walking can increase muscles to the extent you fear. Nonetheless, if you prefer to ride, we can certainly make arrangements in that manner."

Her sister nodded. "And I insist you ride with us. You will see how pleasant it is to relax in that way. "

"I shall reserve judgment. "

"I do not understand how you can be so cool," Lady Serena said petulantly.

"I know," Elsbeth said, "and that’s why I wonder if we should deal well together."

Her sister blinked, a look of panic crossing her smooth, slightly plump features. "Oh, but it is natural for people to not agree on everything. I should think we would still get along famously. Ah, I hear voices coming. I think we are finally to have some company."

Mr. Burry and Sir Helmsdon paused at the doorway. Mr. Burry laughed and prodded Sir Helmsdon in the ribs. "Hey, lad, here’s a turn. The ladies are up before times! We’ll be called sluggards, that’s certain."

"I will not care a jot, so long as they do not demand we join them at some godforsaken early hour," Sir Helmsdon drawled. He sauntered into the room and picked up a cup and the coffeepot. He smelled the heavy, rich aroma of the coffee and quirked a smile. "Devil take the Far East, I’ll take the West Indies bounty," he whimsically vowed before taking a sip.

Laughing, the others agreed.

"But where is Mrs. Hedgeworth and Miss Grantley?" he inquired.

"I’m right here," said Jane, coming around from behind him. "But I’m afraid Mrs. Hedgeworth is still abed. Do you think we shall be able to rise her before noon?" she asked her aunt.

"I believe so."

"Well, that’s certainly a better response than the groom brought me from Royceland."

"Royceland?"

"Yes, I invited Lord Royce and Lord Conisbrough. Our numbers would otherwise not be even. "

Sir Helmsdon raised an eyebrow and snorted softly. "I wouldn’t put too much faith in their attending. Neither gentleman has the best reputation for timeliness or manners," he drawled.

Jane shrugged. It appeared Sir Helmsdon’s conciliating manner of last evening was going to be a thing of the past. Just as well. She rather liked the gentleman she’d met yesterday, but it would not do to encourage him further. "I am not well enough acquainted with either gentleman to know, and I have recently discovered that it is not wise to place one’s faith in hearsay. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have several other things to attend to this morning." She nodded to all and left the room.

"Ice Witch," Mr. Burry muttered.

The others heard him, and though a few eyebrows rose at his unnatural want of manners, no one commented.

Jane purposefully kept herself busy for the next several hours. She checked on the old butler, spoke to the head gardener concerning the outdoor games and the alfresco meal she was planning for the next day, saw that the boys did their lessons, and conferred with Mrs. Phibbs on housekeeping arrangements. Her activities served their purpose. They kept her out of the realm of their guests. They also prevented her from any private speech with Lady Elsbeth. That last troubled her. Ever since Lady Elsbeth had fainted, Jane had been consumed by curiosity as to her relationship with the notorious marquis. She vowed, however, she would not ask anyone but Elsbeth for the tale.

It wasn’t until it was time to change for their planned entertainment that Jane even saw Lady Elsbeth again. They met in the old family wing. Jane thought Lady Elsbeth looked younger and more energetic than she’d seen her in many a day. She told her so.

Lady Elsbeth laughed. "Yes, I fear I was in danger of becoming a hoary old woman. One of those querulous, dusts of the ages, spinster women that people whisper about, shake their heads over, and pity. By the way, Lord Royce sent a note around. He and Lord Conisbrough will attend, but they will be bringing their horses and riding. He suggested this would be a good opportunity for Bertram to try the horse he left for him. He wrote something about speaking with you about it last evening?"

"Yes, he thinks Bertram is old enough to graduate from his little pony to a horse. He said he possesses the perfect animal, which he brought over and had installed in the stables here last night."

"How considerate of him!"

"Yes, but do you think Litton would approve?"

"Certainly. If he were around I daresay he’d realize the boy needs a horse and would see to it himself. Which, by the way, is something I mean to discuss with Mary and Litton when they return. Their sons are bright, intelligent, active boys. Besides needing a tutor, they need their parents’ attentions."

"I agree. But can you see Delbert Litton curtailing his jaunts for them?"

"No. What I intend to suggest is that they take the boys, with a tutor, along with them on these journeys."

"Hmm, I agree. And it would serve a multitude of purposes. Not only would the boys get an education they’re not otherwise likely to receive, but Litton and Mary will be educated as well as to the personality and needs of their children!"

"Precisely," Lady Elsbeth said, turning to go into her room.

Jane followed her. "Elsbeth," she said hesitantly. She looked down at her hands clasped before her, then back up at her aunt. "Elsbeth, could you, I mean, would you consider telling me how you know Lord Conisbrough? I wouldn’t inquire in this odious fashion, but there are tales.... I mean, Aunt Serena said...."

A shuttered expression greeted Jane’s words until she mentioned Lady Serena. Lady Elsbeth sighed, her body sagging as if it were a deflating aerial balloon.

"Yes, my dear sister Serena. I can just imagine what she said," Elsbeth drawled. She shook her head and sat down on the edge of her bed to remove her shoes and stockings. "I met Lord Conisbrough during the little season. I’d just turned eighteen. I’d had a successful regular season, even received two offers of marriage, both of which I refused with my father’s full blessing.

"I was in London for a holiday fete. Afterwards we were all to return to Larchwyn Hall. Everyone was coming to Larchwyn for the Christmas holidays. Anyway," she continued, rolling her stockings down, "it was at that party that I met Lord Conisbrough. He was ten years older than I was, already quite shockingly divorced from a woman who ran off to Italy with some Italian aristocrat she’d met while she and Conisbrough were in Italy for their wedding trip. The man actually followed them back to England and convinced Conisbrough’s wife to run away with him. Or so the story goes."

Jane shook her head. "We can’t seem to get away from gossip, can we?"

"No," Lady Elsbeth said, sighing. "Only that was pretty much the true tale. There were no whispers of cruelty or other sordidness. She simply fell in love with someone else. Here," she said, turning around, "if you want the whole tale, you’ll have to make yourself useful and help me with these lacings. I’m not ringing for the maid to overhear all this and exaggerate it to everyone!

"After his wife left him, Conisbrough became quite jaded. He dallied with women here and there, broke endless hearts, and laughed. He gambled hard, rode hard, and played hard. Some say he had a death wish. I don’t think so. I think he was looking for some kind of cleansing, as if in burning himself out he could burn himself clean. He was near that point when I met him. He had not yet aged physically, but there were dark shadows beneath his eyes and his face was unnaturally drawn. I remember thinking when I first met him that his voice was also unnaturally harsh. Truthfully, he fascinated me. I found myself wondering about him.

"I blush to admit it now, but I maneuvered to dance with him just before everyone went down for the midnight supper. Afterwards, quite naturally, I went down to supper on his arm. Somehow we started talking about herbs. I was surprised to find him quite knowledgeable about them. His mother was a noted herbalist. It was strange, but as we talked his face seemed to lose some of its sallowness, and his gray eyes lost their harsh metallic edge and turned to a beautiful, soft, foggy gray. I fell in love with those eyes." Lady Elsbeth sighed and smiled. She murmured her thanks as Jane unlaced her dress. She stepped out of it and picked it up, shaking it out.

"We left for Larchwyn the next day. I didn’t see him again before we left, but I couldn’t stop thinking about him. I know I mentioned his name to one or two. I was gently warned to be wary. I did not understand why. Serena told me he was a callous rake, a user of women. Her words did give me pause, especially when I remembered the dissipation I’d seen in his face. Then, the day before Christmas, I received a package. It was from Lord Conisbrough. It was his mother’s journal, full of notes and recipes for herbal remedies."

"Do not tell me that is the same red leather-bound journal you jealously guard, consult daily it seems, and enter quotes in?"

Lady Elsbeth laughed. "The same. With it Lord Conisbrough sent a note saying that he wished his mother’s beloved work be used and appreciated, not relegated to a dusty library shelf as it had been since her death. I think I fell in love with him that day. "

Elsbeth smiled reminiscently, then briskly continued, "I don’t recall any more of that time at Larchwyn. My time was taken with studying Lady Conisbrough’s journal. I do remember that the family was disgusted with me for my passion with herbs and that book. Everyone wondered why Lord Conisbrough sent it to me. I had no answers for them, and I didn’t attempt any. Serena said I probably reminded him of his mother. I was at first hurt by that statement, then I didn’t care, for I felt that any woman who could write such a beautiful volume must have been a fantastic creature."

She poured water into a washbowl, added a few drops of a fragrant oil from one of the many bottles that lined her vanity, and splashed her face, neck, and arms, luxuriating in the feel of the cool water on her skin. "Hand me that towel, will you please, Jane? Shouldn’t you be getting ready, too?"

"Yes, but I’m not leaving until I hear the end of the tale. If you do not tell me now, I fear my active imagination shall construct all manner of wild tales to end your story. "

Her aunt laughed. "Well, we can’t have that, can we? All right, as quick as possible." She dried her face and went over to sit on the edge of her bed. Jane joined her.

"By the time the new season began, I was anxious to see him. As it was, I was back in London three weeks before we met again. Three of the longest weeks of my life. Immediately he took me aside to ask how I liked his mother’s journal. Naturally, I raved about it. I don’t know how long we talked—or rather, how long I talked and he listened; but afterwards I was chided for spending such an unconscionable amount of time with him. I was told his manners were too polite to allow him to walk away. No doubt I bored him completely."

"Who—Why—Please don’t tell me you believed this!" Jane expostulated.

"It did shake me," Lady Elsbeth conceded. "The next time we met, I was very quiet and shy. Painfully so. The last thing I wanted was to give him a disgust of me. Finally he asked me what was the matter, did I no longer desire his company? Had he disgusted me in some way? Horrified, I told him no! I told him what family members had advised me. He was angry. Frighteningly angry. He let me know that the time I’d spent with him had been the most enjoyable interlude he’d known in a long time. In fact, he wanted to spend more time with me. He asked me to go driving with him the next day. I was ecstatic. Then I was warned, quite kindly I thought, that he was using my innocence to redeem himself with society for his jaded existence. I was hurt. Not having great confidence in myself, I believed that."

"Oh, no, Elsbeth!"

Lady Elsbeth laughed. "When I look back now, I am awed at my naiveté. I kept our relationship very formal, for I was afraid of being hurt. During that time I was told that he was currently supporting two mistresses in different establishments. That he had no intention of changing his life-style. He was merely in the market for a quiet, biddable wife. I didn’t want to believe that. I was even driven by one of the mistress’s houses. Another time, while at the theater, I had one of the women pointed out to me and I heard some young men joke about Black Jack’s good taste. Then one day he came to speak with Father. Afterward Father called me into his study and left me alone with him. I was astonished. That was when Lord Conisbrough proposed to me."

"Elsbeth!"

Her aunt smiled sadly. "I was confused, distraught. I loved him so, and I wanted to be loved as strongly in return. I was not willing to share him with even one other woman. I formally and coldly turned him down. Afterwards I went upstairs and cried myself to sleep. Later, still bleary-eyed, I went downstairs. Father didn’t understand what went on, but he knew I was miserable. To cheer me up he suggested we all go to Vauxhall Gardens. It was a more acceptable place to go back then. As it happened, Lord Conisbrough was there. He was stern and forbidding in appearance, sarcastic in speech. I was never so miserable. He said he wanted to talk to me. I felt I owed him at least that. We went off down one of the many dark walks at Vauxhall. He accused me of leading him on, of playing the innocent, of toying with his emotions. He was talking to me as if I were the miscreant. I grew angry. I told him in no uncertain terms what I thought of him and his morals. He never tried to defend himself, but his expression in the moonlit shadows became even more forbidding. All he said, in a quiet, contained voice that sent shivers down my spine, was that he had thought better of me. He said I was a creature of gossip."

"And that you should try being a woman."

"Yes! How did you guess?"

Jane smiled wryly. I’ve been accused of the same. "

"Royce?"

"The same."

"And it was Royce who brought Conisbrough here," Lady Elsbeth said thoughtfully. "I wonder—"

"You wonder what?"

Her aunt smiled. "Nothing. But now you know my sad tale. I need hardly say that later I learned that he had kept two mistresses at once, but he’d severed both relationships after he met me."

"Dear God."

"Yes, exactly. But by then Father had died and Hereward and his young family needed me, and it just seemed to go on from there. At first I desperately wanted to see him so I could apologize, not that I thought it would change things, but it would ease my conscience. But we were in mourning, which seemed to go on for the next six years. After that I felt it was too late, and it would smack of the old spinster trying for what she foolishly gave up, so I made sure I stayed away from him.

"I thought of writing, but I consider that the coward’s way. If I had known all those complications were going to happen in my life, I would have written him. Last night was the first time I’ve seen him in fifteen years, but he had never left my thoughts. That’s why I fainted."

"It doesn’t seem as if his feelings have altered in time. "

"Oh, they have. He carries around a great hurt inside him. I can feel it. He could never truly bring himself to forgive me. "

"Elsbeth, how can you say that without giving him a chance?"

Her aunt smiled and patted Jane’s hand, a faraway look in her eyes. "I should be happy if we could go through life as friends. I hope that is not too much to ask."

"But Elsbeth!"

"Shush. I’m too old."

A mulish expression pursed Jane’s lips tight and hardened her eyes into green gemstones.

"Enough," Lady Elsbeth begged. "Now go and get dressed. We haven’t much time."

"All right. But do not think because you fob me off now you will do so in the future."

"I shall continue to do so as long as you fall into the traps I did."

"And just what is that supposed to mean?"

"It means, dear, dear Jane, do not believe all the gossip you hear," Lady Elsbeth said, shutting the door firmly behind her.