Chapter Fifteen #2
At first, the distant conversations being had at the door were alarming and he’d clutched his covers.
Sometimes he could hear nearly all of it and sometimes just bits and pieces.
After his two brutish cousins turned up though, he put all his faith in Marley.
They insisted they would come in and his butler had given them a stern what-for.
He’d dressed them up and then he’d dressed them down.
What did they mean by it? Had they come to stare at a dying man?
Had they no respect for the sanctity of such occasions?
Did they think the Lord God would be pleased to see two ghouls harassing a dying man?
Were they prepared to face the bishop, who was even now praying over him?
Those two creatures had turned round and left. If Marley could bar the door to them, there was nobody he could not keep out. He was determined to give the fellow another raise.
The days began to have a comforting rhythm to them and Landry began to wonder why he’d not taken to his bed long ago. It was safe and quiet and peaceful. He had everything he needed. He really was finding it a delight.
In the distance, he heard the door knocker, but he did not pull the covers over his head as he had done when he’d first retreated from the world. Whoever it was, Marley would get rid of them.
And then, he heard a familiar voice and his teacup clattered on its saucer.
It was Lady Edith. What did she do here?
Had she heard he was dying? He would not wish the lady to think so, as he still had a great determination to propose to her at some later date, when it was safe to go out of doors and he’d not eaten any greasy potatoes.
Should he call down to Marley? Send some sort of signal that he was still alive and she could go away? Where were a person’s footmen when a person needed them?
Then he heard Marley shouting. Why was he shouting? What was he shouting?
The shouting came closer. “My lady, please do not proceed further!”
His door burst open. Landry clutched the covers around him. She was in his bedchamber—what was he to do?
“There you are,” Lady Edith said matter-of-factly. “I suppose you’ve seen the banns and wonder what it’s all about.”
Banns? Was she getting married? To someone else? Had he waited too long?
“I can see from your expression that you do not have the first idea of what I’m talking about. Landry, you are surrounded by newspapers, do you not read any of them?”
Landry glanced at the pile that lay beside him. “Oh as to that, I was meaning to get to them. What banns?”
“There is a bit of nonsense in yesterday’s paper about my supposed engagement to Lord Manderbey. Can’t think who put it in there, my father’s hair is practically on fire over it. Says if I do not come up with a real suitor we’re going home.”
“Oh dear no, I did not see.”
“Over and over again this morning,” Lady Edith said. “Edith, if you do not come up with a real suitor we are packing up before the week is out.”
“Before the week is out?”
“So he says,” Lady Edith said. “A real suitor, Edith, or it’s all up.”
“A real one, I see, well, it would be terrible to have to go home…”
Landry knew perfectly well that this was his chance. But it was all so untoward and nerve-wracking! He was in his nightclothes in bed!
“My advice, just spit it out, Landry,” Lady Edith advised.
“Spit, yes, well, what I wonder is…do you want to get married…to me?” My God, he’d said it. He stared at Lady Edith in horrified fascination.
“Yes, finally. Very good, I am glad that is settled,” she said, much to Landry’s amazement.
Had it really been so easy? He’d just said it and she said it was settled?
“I can tell my father he can pour water over his head and calm down,” Lady Edith went on.
“Now, here is my advice to you. Do not speculate far into the future; you don’t have the temperament for it.
One step at a time, one foot in front of the other.
It grows late in the day, so continue your repose, as there are times where a good lay-around is just the thing.
On the morrow, get up and get dressed. You must see my father and then we must see Lady Winsome to assure her that all reports of my engagement to Manderbey are nonsense. I will call for you at eleven.”
Lady Edith turned on her heel and was followed out the door by a dumbstruck Marley. As they went down the stairs, he heard her say, “Beef tea is what’s wanted, it will put some strength back into him.”
Landry lay back on his pillows. It was done.
He felt a soothing comfort in the idea that Lady Edith had been so sure of the arrangements to be made!
He was to rest until tomorrow and he was to have beef tea.
She would take him round to her father. She would know what to say to Lady Winsome. She’d probably manage Manderbey too.
And that idea of putting one foot in front of the other was really rather good. It was very true that he did not have the temperament for considering the future—it made him nervous. Now, he was to just not think about it.
He suddenly laughed. His relations held no further power over him. With Marley on one side and Lady Edith on the other, he was invincible. He was safe.
The Earl of Landry had got himself engaged, despite all predictions to the contrary.
*
Winsome had wished the day to come and also wished for more time to stew in her father’s house. She had not left it in some days. All they’d had on the calendar was a card party and the duke had been more than happy to beg off. Now, the day of the masque had arrived.
If there were one thing that did not hang over her head like the Sword of Damocles, it was her costume.
She was to go as Cleopatra from her favorite Shakespeare play.
She had decided on it long ago, as the dying for love was highly romantic and the dress was so interesting.
It was all white, a very fine lawn, with a marvelous wide and stiff circular collar embroidered with gold thread on a blue background.
There were matching cuffs of embroidered fabric for her wrists, and a gold-plated belt.
She would carry a gilded staff, topped by the head of a serpent.
She would wear a half-mask in gold, with a little fashioned gold lotus flower at the top.
In a few hours, she would don her costume, hold her head high, and walk into Lady Darlington’s ballroom to see what she would find there. She was just now in the drawing room pretending to enjoy her tea while secretly looking for her courage.
Thomas hurried in and said, “Lady Winsome, a Lady Edith and Lord Landry have come. Lady Edith says it is vital they see you.”
Winsome was indeed startled. The last she’d heard of Lord Landry he’d been bedridden and asleep to the world. He must have made a recovery. And then why should they have come together?
She could guess it had something to do with the report in the newspapers that Lord Manderbey was engaged to Lady Edith. They would have no way to know that she knew it all to be nonsense, as her own Mrs. Right had put it in the newspaper to begin.
“Do show them in and bring up more tea, Thomas,” she said. Goodness, she sounded so calm and unperturbed. It was just as she must sound at the masque.
Lady Edith strode in with Lord Landry on her heels. “Lady Winsome, sorry to barge in without so much as a by your leave,” Lady Edith said.
“She did think it would be all right, though,” Lord Landry said.
“I’m delighted to see you. Do sit. I’ve sent for a fresh pot of tea.”
“Very gracious, I’m sure,” Lady Edith said, taking a chair. “Now, I’ll fly straight to the point, as I do not like to dilly-dally round a thing. This report of my engagement to Lord Manderbey is rubbish. I am engaged to Lord Landry. We’ve seen my father and it’s all squared.”
“You are engaged?” Winsome said to Lord Landry, entirely forgetting to appear shaken by the newspaper’s gossip. “That is wonderful news. Really wonderful.” She had thought Lord Landry had it in his mind, she just had not known if he could get it done.
“Yes, we’re thrilled,” Lady Edith answered for her betrothed.
Lord Landry nodded vigorously. Thomas hurried in with a fresh pot and two more cups and saucers.
Winsome picked up the pot and said, “How do you take it, Lady Edith?”
“A dash of milk. Landry will have plenty of milk and liberal sugar.”
Lord Landry nodded. “She knows how I take my tea.”
Winsome smiled in what she hoped was an approving expression. Lord Landry seemed poised to have every aspect of his life managed for him, and he seemed delighted to have it so.
Lady Edith took her tea and said, “Now that we’ve got that report in the newspaper cleared up, what are we to do about all the talk going round about that scavenger hunt?
I, personally, did not believe it for a minute and was very stern with my father on that point. However, people do like to talk.”
Gracious, she was direct.
Lord Landry hooked a thumb toward Lady Edith. “She knew I would never compromise a lady.”
Lady Edith snorted. “Goodness no, could you imagine?”
“I do not know where the talk came from, nor what to do about it,” Winsome admitted. “It was only the dowager there and I feel less and less confident that she would have invented such a tale. And there is still the question of who locked me into the ladies’ retiring room.”
“You were locked in?” Lady Edith said. “That, I had not known.”
“I had not known it either,” Lord Landry said.
“Yes, well, I did not mention it to anybody. My father knows, of course. I just feel that whoever did that might also have started the rumor, though I cannot think why. I do not have any enemies that I’m aware of.”
“Most mysterious,” Lady Edith said, tapping her chin with her forefinger.
“Lord Landry,” Winsome said, “you did mention there was another lord in the billiards room. Can you not recall his name if you really think on it?”
Lord Landry took that moment to turn several shades of red. “As to that, I might have been mistaken about somebody else being there.”
“Mistaken about somebody being there? I do not understand,” Winsome said.
Lady Edith looked him over, as if she were sizing him up. “Landry, was it the greasy potatoes?”
He nodded sadly.
Now Winsome was really confused. What did potatoes have to do with anything?
Lady Edith said, “My lord was faced with an untenable situation.”
“Yes,” Lord Landry said, “I really was.”
Seeing the look of confusion on Winsome’s face, Lady Edith said, “Lord Landry consumed an ill-advised portion of greasy potatoes that came back to haunt him, in private, if you get my meaning.”
Winsome nodded slowly. She supposed she got Lady Edith’s meaning. Lord Landry had experienced a stomach complaint?
“As you may know, these things can run very unpleasant,” Lady Edith said.
“I was just trying to get away and blame somebody else!” Lord Landry exclaimed.
Winsome pressed her lips together. Now she did see rather more clearly. “So there was no other lord there.”
“Nobody,” Lord Landry said. “At least nobody I saw. I did think I heard a sound at the door, two times, but I never saw anybody. Oh, except for St. John. He was in the ballroom.”
Lord St. John? The lord Mr. Wicket’s letter warned about. The lord who had done some ridiculous pressing on the idea of Winsome relocating to Brazil.
Could he have done it? Could he have locked her in and then started that rumor? If he had, it would have been done to ruin her chances with Lord Manderbey. Did he imagine it would increase his own chances?
Could he really be so devious? Or perhaps it was revenge? Lord Manderbey owed him a gambling debt. But would he really go to such lengths to express his ire over not being paid?
And then, Lord Landry had heard a sound at the billiards room door twice—had it been that door being locked and unlocked, as hers had been?
Had Lord Landry simply not known because he’d been…
indisposed? If St. John had seen Lord Landry go into that room, which she now knew he had, then he likely also saw Winsome enter the retiring room.
Perhaps he’d seen the situation and thought how he might use it to his advantage.
“St. John,” Lady Edith said. “I do not like that fellow. Smarmy, for one thing. For another, I don’t trust him and I’ve got very good instincts. I look at a person and I know what I’m looking at. He’s got to be at the bottom of it.”
“St. John, though?” Lord Landry said. “Why would he do it?”
“Perhaps he is angry that Lord Manderbey has not paid his debt to him?” Winsome said. “Perhaps he noted that Lord Manderbey…paid me certain attentions? Perhaps he wished to stir up trouble for that reason?”
“But that cannot be,” Lord Landry said. “How could Manderbey owe St. John money when it is always St. John needing money from Manderbey?”
Winsome wrinkled her brow. “I do not understand,” she said. “I had thought Lord Manderbey had got himself in deep with gambling and Lord St. John was one of his creditors.”
“No, no, that cannot be right,” Lord Landry said.
“Manderbey is forever dunned by his relations. He jokes that they come out of the woodwork, trying to drain him dry. Now, I did think he’d informed all of them that are in the habit of gambling too much that he would no longer fund their debts.
Whatever the situation, Manderbey certainly does not owe them money. ”
Dunned by his relations? Not dunned by creditors? Was that why Lord Manderbey had laughed it off whenever she’d mentioned gambling? Is that why he’d never seemed embarrassed nor claimed to have any hope of the situation improving? It was never him? It was his relations like Lord St. John?
“So,” she said slowly, “Lord Manderbey does not have a gambling problem?”