Chapter Five #2
“My lady.” His gaze took in her face, and his brows drew together before he gave her his elegant bow. “Are you well, Lady Clementine?”
Mama would be appalled to see her so drooping like a wilting flower that her posture elicited such a question, but, fortunately, Mama had turned to converse with her neighbor.
Clem set her shoulders back and smiled, a social smile, practiced and honed to a fine art that she could hide behind at will. “Quite well, my Lord.”
He paused a moment before he spoke again. “I have a notion to sit out this dance or stroll around the room, if you don’t mind?”
Perhaps her relief showed in her expression because, when he offered his arm, there was a gleam in his eyes. “I thought as much,” he said with a smile.
As the orchestra played the introduction to the next dance, they began a slow circuit of the ballroom. When they were several yards away from her mother, Lord Marsden spoke again. “Were I to hazard a guess, I’d say your reason for joy is not present tonight?”
If she hadn’t been holding his arm, Clem would have stopped right there and blocked the passage of Lord and Lady Eckersley, but Lord Rufus drew her on and through the doors into the supper room. She stared at him as they reached a grouping of three chairs, and he stopped.
A gentle finger tapped lightly beneath her chin. She closed her mouth. Had she been gaping like a lunatic as they walked? Mortified by the possibility, she clenched her jaw.
“My apologies, Lady Clementine. I should not have mentioned that until we were in private.”
Her heart thudded hard in her breast. Did Lord Marsden know why Will was missing? “I’m sure I do not know what you mean, my lord.”
“Come, my lady. The William we both know and love would never choose a dullard or a simpering miss as his life’s partner.” His expression softened, and there was a look in his eyes she read as compassion.
Her eyes watered, and she blinked, turning her head aside. “How can you know that?”
“The last time I saw Will at Lady Lavinia’s ball, I could tell he’d fallen in love. Hard. Given that you had slipped outside moments earlier, and Will was anxious to join you, I offered my felicitations. When is the happy day?”
She bit her lip and clasped her hands tightly together. “I could not say, my lord.”
“‘Could not’ implies a missishness I cannot imagine in Will’s bride.” Perfectly polite, Lord Marsden could not disguise a sharp edge to his response.
Like Will, Clem doubted Marsden suffered fools either, but he had the luxury of wealth and gender to allow him to openly express his disdain.
“I wish it were otherwise, but it is true, my lord. I do not know if we will ever have such a day.”
“Never tell me he didn’t . . . What happened?” He offered his hand to assist her, and they sat side by side. He twisted around on his chair and draped an arm along the back.
“How well acquainted with Will—Mr. Ravenshoe—are you, my lord?”
“Extremely well. We have been best friends since our university days. We rowed together, got into scrapes together, and sometimes fought our way out together. Always together. I offered to stand beside him at your wedding. If it helps to talk, mine is a friendly ear, my dear.”
If Lord Marsden had offered to stand by Will at her wedding, then they were indeed close.
Surely, in her hour of need, she could trust Will’s best friend.
She drew a deep breath and released it as a soft sigh.
“On the night of Lady Lavinia’s ball, Will asked me to marry him.
Not in so many words, you understand, because he had still to speak to my father.
He wanted to ask me properly, he said. Nonetheless, he made it clear he would formally request my hand the following day. ”
“The very model of all that is correct; that is our William. So, he told you he would be asking you—properly—but am I to assume that something prevented him?”
She nodded and looked down at her dance card lying upside down on her lap.
The slim gold ribbon looped lightly around her wrist. “We have a place where we meet, near the lake in Hyde Park; not unlike the spot where we first met at Papa’s country estate.
I waited there at our usual time for more than an hour.
I was running a little late, unavoidably so, but Will never came.
Oh, Lord Marsden, do you know where he is? Has something happened to him?”
Lord Marsden frowned and glared at his cane. The hand holding the ivory head tightened until his knuckles turned white with the pressure.
Finally, his gaze rose and met hers. “I do not know precisely where he is, Lady Clementine, and I cannot provide you with any information as to why he failed to keep such an important appointment, other than that nothing but urgent business will have taken him away from London so soon after the ball.”
“But he was in town that morning. He personally delivered a bouquet to my home. I know because he had turned down the corner of his calling card.”
“And yet, you didn’t see him then?”
Miserably, she shook her head. “I think perhaps he inquired if Mama was at home and was, quite naturally, denied by the staff. If only I had known he had come.”
“Indeed, if only you had spoken to him then.” The distracted tone seemed out of place in Lord Marsden’s baritone voice.
Although their acquaintance was so far singular and short, Clem felt she could read him well, if only because he was Will’s friend. She watched him intently as she asked, “You do know something, don’t you, my lord?”
He gave a tight smile, there and gone so quickly that Clem questioned whether it had actually occurred.
“Please, Lord Marsden, if you know aught of Will, tell me. If you truly cannot speak of him because it would break a confidence, then at least tell me he is safe and well.”
“I said before, Will would never offer marriage to a woman not his equal, but I begin to suspect he will have his work cut out for him if ever he wishes to keep a secret from you.” Marsden tapped his fingers on the ivory head of his cane, but his eyes seemed to be looking far away.
At length, he turned to her. “The last I heard of Will, he was safe and well. More, I cannot offer.”
“Then I thank you for that assurance, my lord. It is enough—for now.”
A gentleman—Sir Thomas Rokeby of Undershot, if Clem remembered correctly—appeared at the door of the supper room. When his searching gaze settled on her, he strode towards her, stopping in front and bowing.
“Lady Clementine, I believe this next dance is mine.”
She rose, as did Lord Marsden. He bowed over her hand. “Lady Clementine, I will see you for the supper dance. Sir, your partner.”
Clem moved through the patterns of the country dance without paying much attention to either the dance or her partner.
At least, no more attention than polite manners required.
Sir Thomas filled the brief times they came together with comments about the rainy weather and sheep.
Perhaps her eyes had also drawn a comment, but Clem was sure he’d mentioned his sheep.
She contributed little to the conversation and directed it not at all.
Her thoughts spun around Lord Marsden. He knew something about Will’s whereabouts and the reason for Will’s abrupt departure, and she intended to winkle it out of him during supper.
But when the supper dance began, he was close-lipped, and each time the movements of the dance drew them near the far corner, he cast angry glances towards where the Duke of Monteith stood with several older gentlemen.
Was Marsden angry with their host, or with one of the men in the group around the duke?
When the dance ended, they bowed, and she took his arm, carried along in the flow of bodies as guests swarmed towards supper.
“Shall we take a breath of fresh air, my lady, if you aren’t dying of hunger?”
“Certainly, my lord. I would welcome the coolness of the balcony after our exertions.”
Lord Marsden guided their steps through the throng towards the outer doors. Out of the corner of her eye, Clem caught sight of Mama, smiling as she clung to Papa’s arm. Mama gave her a discreet nod.
Clem was certain her mother had already begun to plan her nuptials, and Marsden was her likely target.
“Why did you sigh, Lady Clementine?”
“Did I? I do beg your pardon, my lord.”
A footman opened the door and gently closed it behind them, but no more was said until they reached the balustrade.
Two other couples had taken up positions near the door.
Lord Rufus strolled towards the far end, stopping short of the wide stairs leading into the garden.
Flickering lights marked the course of a gravel path through the near garden, but Lord Marsden did not venture beyond a point still well within what was deemed the safe reputation border of the balustrade.
Cool night air raised goosebumps along her arm, but Clem welcomed the relief from the heat inside. “The duke and duchess will be pleased to host such a crush at the last ball of this season.”
Lord Marsden turned from contemplating the garden. “I imagine so. Lady Clementine, forgive me for what I am about to ask. I fear you may deem me impudent, if not downright nosy, but . . . Are you in love with Will?”
Her eyes teared up as the memory of Will kissing her filled her mind. She glanced away, trying to sniff delicately.
A large white handkerchief appeared at the edge of her vision. “I would take that as my answer, but it could be I embarrassed you with my question.”
Clem took the proffered square of linen and dabbed her eyes before turning to meet Marsden’s intent gaze.
“You are Will’s friend. How can such a question be an impertinence?
I love Will. I want to marry him, but I am confused and so very sad that his proposal—his proper proposal—was not delivered and that he has vanished without so much as a note to tell me why. ”
“You feel left in limbo, is that it?”
“An excellent analogy, my lord.”
“Please, Lady Clementine, my name is Rufus. It would please me if you were to use it when we are alone.”
Clem’s lips parted, her surprise overtaking good manners. Their acquaintance was mere hours old, even if the circumstances surrounding their meeting were unusual. “My lord, what are you suggesting?”
His harsh bark of laughter was quickly cut off. “I am not about to—nor will I ever—betray my best friend’s trust. What I hope is that I may stand as your friend too, especially while Will is . . . away.”
“You do not know me, my lord. Why would you extend your regard to an unknown?”
“I know Will. I saw the way his gaze followed you. I heard how he spoke of you, and while he is not here, I offer to stand in his place should you ever require my assistance or friendship.”
Clem drew a deep breath as she examined his face in the light spilling from the outside sconces. Clearly, Lord Marden—Rufus!—knew more than he was willing or perhaps able to share with her.
He met her gaze openly and honestly, and she believed him. Her Will would never be friends with a rogue.
“If that is true, then yes, Rufus, and you have my permission to call me Clementine, although truly, I prefer ‘Clem’ from my friends. But now, I beg you, tell me—where is Will, and why could he not keep his appointment with me?”
Rufus heaved a deep sigh and leaned on the balustrade.
“I truly cannot answer the first part of your question. As to even his general whereabouts, I am not permitted to, although you will likely hear that he has departed on a voyage to the Americas with the purpose of setting up a new trade route for his ships.”
“In truth, is that where he is?”
Rufus shook his head but did not elaborate. “Regarding the second part of your question, I suspect he was given orders at the last minute that necessitated his immediate departure from London.”
Clem’s mind groped through a fog of confusion and doubt. Rufus was making little sense. “Who would be giving Will orders? He owns his business and makes all his decisions for himself.”
“True, but we are at war. At such times, we cannot be wholly our own masters.”
At war?
The very words set goose bumps on top of goose bumps running down Clem’s spine. Will had spoken briefly about buying a commission and joining the army. Had he done so without telling her? Had he been shipped off already to fight in France?
“Is Will in danger?” Reaching out, daring in her need to know, Clem touched Rufus’s arm. “Does Will’s departure have something to do with the war in France?”
“I never said that, Clem.” He covered her hand briefly, patting it gently.
“But Will may be gone for several months. Should you feel pressured by your parents to accept an offer of marriage while Will is away, you can call on me. I will stand as your friend. Should the need arise, I can help you to withstand other offers until Will returns.”
“I’m not sure I understand your meaning.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw as he paused and met her questioning gaze.
“In reality, I will keep others from importuning you until Will returns, but if all else fails, I will, in the eyes of the world, step into the role of your fiancé. If that need arises, I can guarantee a very long engagement, one that lasts until Will is home again.”
Her hands flew to her cheeks. Tears pricked her eyes. “You would do that for me, and for Will?”
“Only as a last resort. Hopefully, Bonaparte will be defeated soon, and Will can return to your side. Besides, there are other ways to deter suitors.”
“Tell me.”
“Not yet.” He glanced towards the door. “We should return to the supper room or risk causing talk.” He nodded over her shoulder, and Clem turned to see the other couples returning inside.
“Indeed, I am becoming cool out here and more than a little thirsty.” Clem set her hand on his arm, and they strolled towards the door.
Before the footman opened it, Clem said softly, “Thank you, Rufus. I trust your friendship with Will, but promise me you’ll tell me as much as you can about him. Where he is, how he is.”
“You have my word, Clem.”