The Masked Heart

Chapter Six

Thankfully, Wesley Upton was so overcome by emotion that he was not aware of another presence in the room. Blaine signaled with a frantic jerk of her head and Drew, grinning like a baboon, withdrew from the doorway. Bringing her attention back to the solicitor, she reached out and patted him briskly on the shoulder.

"Dear Mr. Upton, please rise. I am appreciative of your feelings but feel it would be best if we cry friends and get on about our lives."

Slowly he struggled to his feet, the joints of his knees popping at the unaccustomed exercise. "You are too kind, Lady Yates," he said.

"To be perfectly honest with you, Mr. Upton, I am a waspish, old lady who is particularly fond of you. I wish you happy. Miss Wiffledon will be getting a very fine husband."

It luckily took only a brief time to finally send the man packing and in the sudden quiet of the room, Blaine covered her face with her hands. In the rising tide of hysteria which threatened to overwhelm her, she leaned forward, elbows on her knees.

Drew stopped in the doorway, touched by the sight of the indomitable old tartar bowed in despair. He had heard enough of the scene to realize what was afoot but he had never suspected that she would be so overcome. He had thought he had seen nothing but relief in her expression. Closing the doors of the parlor, he hurried forward, surprised at his need to offer comfort.

"Dear Lady Yates, the man is surely not worth one moment of your anguish."

At Drew's words a strangled cry burst from the old woman and she rocked back and forth, shoulders heaving with emotion. He stood beside the sofa in an agony of indecision, then seated himself beside her and patted her shoulder awkwardly. This action elicited a sound closely akin to a snort and he narrowed his eyes as he peered at the woman.

From behind the mittened fingers two eyes appeared, tears shimmering on the clumped lashes. In the watery depths, Drew caught the glint of mischief and pushed himself back against the cushions as great rolling waves of laughter convulsed him. As if his laughter had loosed the bonds of restraint, his companion burst into a chorus of throaty chuckles which she tried to smother behind her black-bordered handkerchief. When finally Drew could control his laughter, he shook his head in exasperation.

"I say, Lady Yates," he gasped. "For a moment I was convinced you were in the greatest despair."

"Believe me, Lord Farrington," Blaine answered, dabbing carefully at her streaming eyes. "I was considerably overset. I was so busy thinking of how I might reject the man with gentle graciousness, that I almost missed the import of his words. Imagine my consternation when I realized he was not planning to declare himself but to cast me off. Oh la, I was so puffed up with my own conceit, I totally misread the situation."

"From what I heard, madam, you dealt with him more kindly than he deserved."

"He is a sweet little man and I would not hurt his feelings, Drew, uh, Lord Farrington." Blaine was appalled that she would so forget herself in the companionship of shared amusement.

"I would consider it a singular honor if you would call me Drew, Lady Yates."

Blaine's eyes were drawn to his face. The sincerity of his voice was matched by the genuine friendship she saw reflected there. "I would like that," she said.

Reminding herself of her role as an aging matron, she patted his hand in an avuncular manner, unprepared for the shock of feeling at contact with his warm flesh through her loosely knitted mittens. She shifted uneasily and fussed with her heavy skirts in order to reestablish her composure.

"Perhaps you would ring for tea," she said, "since Mr. Upton chose to leave before it was served. Although at this hour, you might prefer something more strengthening."

"If you will promise to keep my secret, Lady Yates," Drew said as he pulled the bellrope. "I have a great penchant for tea. I traveled some little bit in the east in my younger days. The ceremonial drinking of tea seemed to me a most civilized ritual. Perhaps it is that remembrance that seems to imbue each cup with a dose of tranquility. Devil take it, madam, you are so easy to talk to that I begin to wax lyrical in my enthusiasm."

While they waited for the tea tray, Blaine hastily checked the mirror to be sure her tearful laughter had not dislodged her careful makeup. She needed the reinforcement of seeing the face of an old woman to remind her not to fall into a pattern of friendship with Drew. She, too, was surprised at the ease of their conversation. Since her arrival in Wiltshire, she had discovered a different man than the persistent dilettante who had been pursuing La Solitaire. She liked Drew Farrington and that knowledge was particularly unsettling since any relationship between them was strictly impossible. A wave of tiredness washed over her as she returned to her seat and accepted the cup of tea from Drew.

"Well, young man, what brings you scratching at our door instead of out riding to hounds or some other odious bachelor pursuit? I would not have expected you to appear before me in all your dirt," Blaine snapped, her voice once more the crisp acerbic tones of Aunt Haydie, as she eyed his riding clothes with disfavor.

Although Drew raised his eyebrow at her tone, he made no comment. "Your pardon, Lady Yates, for my appearance. I was riding and thought I would call as I had an idea which I hoped might find favor in your eyes," he said easily. "I talked at length to Robbie and discovered that he is surprisingly perceptive about his relationship with Fleur. It is his belief that once she has the opportunity to see more of society she will be quite content to remain in Wiltshire. He thinks she is only overwhelmed by the novelty of the attention she has received, much like most girls her age."

"Smart lad, your brother," Blaine said. "I think he is correct in his assessment but I must tell you that a season for Fleur is out of the question."

"I do not mean to interfere in your household, ma'am, but I have a suggestion to offer." Drew placed his tea on the table and leaned forward, elbows braced on his knees. "I have a great fondness for Robbie and I would see him happy. In just this short time, it is apparent he feels strongly about your niece and I would do what I could to aid in his pursuit. I have seen far too many marriages founder to be sanguine in the face of such odds. Robbie's deep admiration for Fleur leads me to believe theirs could be a successful match."

"You're doing it too brown, Drew," Blaine scoffed. "Would you have me believe love conquers all."

Drew shifted in his chair as though uncomfortable speaking on such a subject. His voice held a defensive quality when he continued. "One does not often see true love. However, on the occasions that I have, it seems to make of marriage something more than a business arrangement."

"Sometimes that is true. Surely, young man, you have been in love more times then one could count to be aware that that is not always the case." Blaine's voice was sharp and Drew looked up, a grin flashing across his face. She caught her breath at the blaze of warmth that kindled within her.

"Only once have I felt true love," he answered. A soft smile of remembrance flickered across his face. "Her name was Delphine and her eyes were the blue of a Scottish lake and her hair was tumbled curls of shimmering black. I would have given my life for her."

Blaine winced at his tone, not wanting to hear any more of his confidences, but she could not hold back her question. "And did she love you in return?"

"No." Drew shook his head sadly. "When I tried to kiss her, she bit me."

"Bit you?"

"Delphine had little sophistication at seven."

"For shame, sirrah!" Blaine cried, laughing despite the fact she had been taken in by his outrageous story.

Drew chuckled at the flash of fire he saw reflected in the old lady's eyes. "I'll admit I took unfair advantage, but in a way it was an answer to your question. My experience with the toothsome Delphine, taught me a lesson and I have never again fallen victim to another pair of beaux yeux."

"Resolved to a solitary life?" Blaine clicked her tongue in mock sadness.

"I never mentioned that my life was solitary." He flashed her a look of pure mischief beneath his lowered brows.

"And what of marriage, Farrington?"

"I assume, eventually I shall become leg-shackled. It is nothing I view with any degree of enthusiasm. If you will pardon my plain speaking, Lady Yates, I will select some light-minded, virginal chit of good family and modest means. She will bear my children, maintain my household and bore me to death."

"Seems a bleak picture," Blaine responded glumly. "And yet you wish it for Robbie."

"Robbie does not have my abiding need for entertainment. He would thrive in such a situation." Drew got to his feet and wandered lazily around the room, as if inspecting the furniture. "And this, my dear Lady Yates, brings me back full circle to my suggestion. Although I have known you only a short time, I would deal squarely with you, without need to mince words. Have I your permission?"

"Cut line, Farrington," Blaine snapped inelegantly.

Drew turned to face her, running a hand through his thick hair. "I gather your finances are not such that you can consider a season for Fleur. In my opinion, unless the girl has some taste of society she will not settle happily into country life. I would suggest a short spell in London now before the season begins. The city is light of the majority of the ton and she will not be overwhelmed."

"It sounds a pretty plan indeed, but I do not see how it would be feasible. You are correct in your assessment of our financial condition. Much as I love Fleur, I cannot see how I could manage even a month in London." Blaine's tone was regretful.

"Perhaps I might have the very answer. My aunt Aurelia Breckenridge has just left town for an extended stay in Scotland. Her house is small but well staffed. Since there is no accounting for tastes, Robbie is her favorite nephew and I think she would approve of anything that might promote his future happiness."

Blaine dropped her eyes to her lap, torn between wanting to help Fleur and the knowledge that she should not listen to the soft words of Drew Farrington. She would be in an impossible situation in London. In a little more than a week, she must return to the theatre. Her palms began to sweat at the very thought of masquerading as Lady Yates at the same time as she lived her life as La Solitaire. She pursed her mouth, prepared to turn down Drew's proposition.

"While I am cognizant of your kind suggestion, it would still be an impossibility. The child's wardrobe is insufficient for such a venture."

"It is not as though Fleur would need to be fully outfitted," Drew suggested, his voice agreeable though there was a balky quality to the set of his mouth. "It seems to me, madam, that her gowns are quite up to the mark."

Blaine cursed the fact that she had brought home so many new gowns for the girl. She had purchased the material and over the last several months Tate had sewn the dresses as a surprise for Fleur. She wriggled uncomfortably under Drew's steady gaze, feeling the jaws of the trap closing in. With a wistful sigh, she fluttered her eyes in distress.

"What a shame that it is not possible. I am no longer young and I could not be the sort of chaperone a young girl would need to enter society even on a limited basis."

Blaine folded her hands in her lap as if to call an end to the discussion but did not reckon on the stubbornness of Drew Farrington.

"It was my understanding that Fleur had a governess who might be applied to when your duties as chaperone became too onerous," Drew countered.

"Yes, I suppose Frau Puffentraub would be satisfactory but she would not know how to go on since she has never been much in society herself. Without proper guidance, Fleur would be much like a lamb in the company of wolves, " Blaine argued sweetly.

"Then, Lady Yates, both Robbie and myself will volunteer to help navigate the treacherous waters of the ton ."

Blaine stared across at the narrowed green gaze and knew he would continue offering solutions as long as she brought up objections. Although she knew the whole thing would be a nightmare, it did coincide with her own wishes for Fleur and with a brittle nod she admitted her defeat.

"I bow to superior strength," she said.

Despite the fact she had the urge to throw a teacup at his head, Blaine felt the corners of her mouth curl into a small grin. He saluted her with a hand to his forehead and moved to seat himself beside her on the couch. Heads together like conspirators, they planned out the details of the trip to London. They had just finished when the doors of the parlor opened and Fleur, followed by Talbott Stoddard, entered in a flurry of muslin.

"Oh," Fleur cried, stopping abruptly at the sight of her sister and Lord Farrington sitting so cozily together. "I didn't realize you had company."

"Watch your tongue and make your curtsy, child," Blaine warned, fearful the girl would give the game away.

Drew hauled himself to his feet and bowed to the flustered young lady. His smile was less warm for Stoddard since he loathed the man and sensed his interest in Fleur was solely to relieve the boredom of his stay in the country.

"Perhaps you could tell me, Miss Meriweather, where I might find your brother. I met Val in the woods yesterday and promised I would accompany him on a tour of Weathers."

"How kind of you, Lord Farrington. Val will be in high alt. He was just on his way out to the stables when milord came to call." Her voice was breathless and a wave of color flowed up her cheeks as she indicated Lord Stoddard.

"Then if you will excuse me, Lady Yates, I shall take myself off. Your servant, ma'am."

With a brief but elegant bow, Drew left the room and, for Blaine, it was as if the room had suddenly become empty. It was several moments before she could focus on the others in the room. Since she did not wish to put Fleur's acting powers to the test, she asked her sister to help her to a large armchair in the corner where she might rest after her day's exertion. There, under the impression that she was dozing, she was well able to keep an eye on the girl, yet not be involved in further deception. Watching Stoddard beneath shuttered lids, she could no more like him than she had on first acquaintance. The man flirted outrageously with Fleur and the flighty chit could not see beneath the surface handsomeness of the man to the cold calculation in his eyes. Perhaps in London, she would learn to recognize the real from the counterfeit.





"Fatima is much too old to race, Lord Farrington," Val said, grinning up at his companion. "Even in her salad days, she would not have beaten Corinth."

Drew patted the neck of the black stallion and grinned back at the boy. "You apparently have a good eye for horseflesh. I can imagine your pony gives you a much more comfortable ride than this bony lad."

Val nodded his head in acceptance of the compliment, but the light in his eyes indicated his knowledge that it was a sop. Drew laughed and ruffled the boy's hair as he kneed his horse along the trail. He was enjoying his outing with the youngster. He was surprised at how well run the estate was, despite an apparent lack of funds. At his question, Val smiled gravely.

"It's mostly my sister's doing. She says it's easy enough to manage your land with great heaping piles of the ready. The challenge is managing when you're short."

"I see," Drew replied. He would never have suspected that Fleur would be quite so perceptive. Robbie had found a gem of a girl who was smart enough to cloak her business sense beneath a fluttering exterior. "You seem to have managed quite well."

"Well, sir, it's piecemeal at best. One must keep priorities straight. The tenants come first. We've given them additional land if they'll take care of the repairs on their own holdings. Most have been on the estate for more years than I can remember and so there's a feeling of family here."

Drew was amused at the seriousness of the young boy. At eleven Val was more responsible about his duties than men three times his age. He was a very impressive child. "You have done a fine job, young sir. Despite your limited funds there is no sign of neglect. Everywhere we have been, the estate seems prosperous and well tended. Your estate manager has advised you well."

At this, the boy chuckled. "My sister loves giving advice."

"Your sister runs the estate?" he blurted out in amazement.

At the question the boy clapped his hands over his mouth and the eyes above his fingers were filled with consternation. Drew pulled his horse to a stop and reached over to place a friendly hand on Val's knee.

"Steady on, son," Drew said kindly in the face of the boy's discomfort. "Perhaps we might get down for a bit of a respite."

Dutifully the boy dismounted and gathering the reins of his pony, looped them over the branch of a nearby tree. Drew busied himself with Corinth, giving the lad a chance to compose himself. The sun was warm and he removed his jacket and, folding it, placed it on a fallen log and sat down beside it. Feet dragging, Val approached. His face was far too grave for a child his age.

"I am a regular loose-lipped Jenny, Lord Farrington," he said. "I shouldn't have told you about not having an estate manager. My sister says that no one is to know. She says people would not approve of a woman making business decisions."

"Unfortunately, Val, she is right. Most men assume that women are too totty-headed."

Val responded to the man-to-man tone of Drew's voice. "Do you think so, sir?"

"Well, in my vast dealing with women, I have found a great many who seem to find difficulty in crossing a room without help." Drew noticed the strained look had lessened in the boy's face. "However I have met women with great knowledge and a good head for figures. Just being male does not automatically make one a wizard with finances."

"My father was such a one," Val admitted, then his expression darkened again as he whispered confidingly to Drew. "I worry that I shall grow to be like him."

"What does your sister say?"

"She says I can choose to be whatever I want. If I want to manage the estate well, all I have to do is to grow to understand the land. Knowledge is the key, she tells me."

"Your sister quite amazes me." Drew said, shaking his head at the previous picture he had had of the golden-headed child. "Fleur is indeed a wonder."

"Not Fleur, Lord Farrington. Blaine."

"Who?"

"My other sister, Blaine, is the one who has taught me so much."

"My apologies, Val. I had quite forgotten you had another sister. I was having no end of trouble picturing Fleur as the mastermind of agrarian reform."

It took a moment for Val to catch the humor in Drew's words but when he did, he rolled on the ground in laughter. "Fleur knows only about hair ribbons, curl papers and needlework."

"A thoroughly male viewpoint, old son," Drew snorted.

"You're right, sir," the boy admitted. "It's that Fleur is just a girl. Blaine is something different. Perhaps because she's older."

"Tell me more of this Amazon."

The boy's face became still, washed of all expression. His blue eyes scrutinized Drew's face and then he nodded his head as if he had made up his mind.

"Sometimes, sir, it's very difficult to know what to do. However as a gentleman I know you will respect my confidences. While my parents were alive Blaine ran the household but eventually she also became interested in the running of the estate. Old Higgins was our manager and he taught her what he could. When he died, Blaine took over but she was afraid of what the solicitor would think of such an outrageous thing and so she invented a pretend name for the new estate manager."

"Quite an ingenious idea." Drew said. "I trust your sister picked a suitable name."

Val's eyes danced with pleasure as he leaned toward his new friend. "I think you'll appreciate it, sir." He paused to give full significance to his disclosure. "Mr. Inchon Visible."

"Ah. Mr. Invisible, to be sure." Drew chuckled much to the boy's delight. "Your sister has a devilish sense of humor, lad. I think I would like her very much."

"I know you would, Lord Farrington. Everyone loves Blaine, even though she really makes you tow the mark."

"I remember that Robbie mentioned she was away from home. Does she visit frequently?"

"Um, no. Hardly ever, in fact. She lives very far away. Clear to Scotland, I think. She writes letters though so I always know what her plans are for the estate."

After this breathtaking burst of words, Val dropped his eyes, his fingers busy pulling up blades of grass. Drew sensed he had once more broached a topic that was clearly off limits. Evincing disinterest, he changed the subject and soon had the boy talking more naturally on other lines.

After he left the boy, Drew rode slowly back to Fairhaven, his mind uneasy. He felt there was something he didn't understand about the Meriweathers. He had met Val, Fleur and Aunt Haydie and liked all three. However he still had a sense that all was not as it should be in the household. He wondered about the other sister Blaine. It was curious that she was not mentioned in the normal course of conversation. Now he thought on it, the few times her name had come up, there had been an abrupt change of subject.

Val had showed nothing but admiration for his sister and yet he was clearly uncomfortable speaking about her. Even the whereabouts of the girl was questionable. He had heard from Robbie that she lived near London and yet Val had indicated she lived far to the north. Could something be the matter with the sister? His mind spun with various possibilities. Disease? A disfiguring accident?

Perhaps when they arrived in London, he would have an opportunity to find out more about the mysterious Blaine Meriweather. After all, if Robbie planned to marry Fleur, he should investigate the family. It would not do to discover some wretched family secret after the banns had been called. He must assume that the sister was an antidote since she appeared to have such shockingly progressive ideas. Definitely on the shelf, according to the boy. But, Drew had to admit to a certain curiosity about the woman Val had so lavishly praised.

A smile touched Drew's face and his expression took on the intent look of the hunter. He would enjoy the challenge of solving the puzzle of the illusive Blaine Meriweather.