Chapter Eleven
Hyde Park was a sea of green as Rufus guided his horses onto the carriage drive. He had finally reappeared yesterday during Mama’s at home and invited Clem to drive out with him. Mama had encouraged her to accept.
For all that Rufus had been gone for several weeks, he said little, and it fell to Clem to keep the conversation flowing. Inspired by the parade and subsequent entertainment Rufus told her he’d missed, she strove to paint a word picture for him.
“There were stalls and arcades and follies and pavilions. Military bands played, and even Papa seemed inspired by the whole event. The music was quite stirring; mostly patriotic, of course, but it created a wonderful atmosphere.”
Rufus smiled at her enthusiastic recounting of the miniature Battle of Trafalgar.
She knew she was chattering on too much, but she felt a need to fill their carriage drive with chatter, or she would appear unseemly as she demanded to know where he had been.
For now, in case they were overheard, she played the role of eager companion recounting the celebrations of the past month.
“Oh, and Rufus, there were some acrobats and a man who walked on stilts, and then the re-enactment . . . At the climax of the battle, the French ships were sunk while “God Save the King” played. It was quite the spectacle. I wish you could have seen it.”
“So do I. It sounds grand even for Prinny.”
Lowering her voice, she asked, “Where were you, Rufus? I thought you would be at the Prince Regent’s side.”
“I was working, my dear.”
“But the war is over. What on earth is there left to do?”
Rufus reached into the inside pocket of his coat and pulled out a small square of paper, which he handed to her. “I’m sorry that I can’t bring Will home to you, but this is the next best thing.”
“A note? It is very small.” She plucked the folded paper from his gloved hand and stared at it for long moments, debating whether to open it now or savor it in private later. “Does this mean—did you see him? Tell me you saw him!”
“I did. He is well, but as anxious as you for him to come home.”
“Is he coming soon?”
“I’m sorry, Clem. I know it must feel strange to you, but it’s not possible. Not yet.”
Sighing, she placed Will’s note in her lap and covered it with her hands, anticipating the pleasure of reading his message. His one and only message in eight months.
“As you said it would be, word around the city is that he is in the Americas establishing new trade connections for his business. I think the secrecy with which you surround his absence suggests Will is working for the government in France. ‘For king and country’ you said, which can only mean something to do with the war.”
Rufus’s gaze narrowed on her face, and he slowed his team to a sedate walk. “You see far too much, Clem.”
“I’m right, aren’t I? He’s doing work for you in France. It has to be. You’ve been gone about as long as a round trip to France would take, and you’ve returned with a note from Will; therefore, you saw him. Recently. It’s the only explanation that answers every question.”
“You cannot say anything to anyone.”
“I won’t. I just wish—” She bit her lip and looked away.
Months had passed since the war ended, and they were still celebrating, so why did it continue to overshadow their lives and deny them their love?
Will was working for king and country, and that was noble, but when would there be time for their love? When would it be their turn?
She needed to read Will’s words. Perhaps they would offer comfort, or a promise of his swift return.
Rufus drove in silence while she broke the seal and devoured the three lines written in Will’s distinctive, forward-slashing style.
Three lines that said all that she needed to hear, while at the same time saying nothing.
He loved her and missed her, but he gave no hint of where he was or what he was doing.
The signature was a simple capital X. She didn’t even have Will’s name on the paper, four letters that she could run her fingers over and kiss, while touching the place where his hand had rested as he wrote.
Reluctantly, she slipped the note inside her reticule and let her gaze wander across the view while Rufus kept the horses to a slow walk.
The motion of the carriage soothed her as much as anything could, but inside, nothing could warm her anxious heart.
Not even hearing from him for the first time could fill the Will-shaped hole there.
“You’re quieter than usual. I thought Will’s note would bring you joy.”
“It does. It’s good to hear from him, but he says nothing about returning to me, and you give me little but vague statements.” It was impossible to hide her feelings from Rufus. He knew her so well, probably better than even her beloved Will.
And that lay at the heart of her problem.
Will’s continued absence didn’t mean she loved him less.
Her love was constant, like the North Star, but she would have felt more secure if he hadn’t disappeared before making their engagement official.
If only her parents had known of his intentions; if only she had been able to tell them of her love for Will, they wouldn’t now be actively encouraging suitors.
As caring and well-intentioned as her parents were, Clem felt besieged. Like a town that had closed its gates and brought in supplies for the long haul, she wondered how long she could hold out against their blandishments.
“My parents have given me more time than most young ladies are allowed to make my choice of a husband, but even their patience is not endless. I am certain Lord Hetherington is on the verge of asking for my hand, and I don’t have a good reason to refuse his suit.
Saying that I do not love him is irrelevant to my parents.
Mama simply tells me that ‘given time, love will grow’. ”
“What signs has he given that he will offer for you?”
“Flowers each of the past three days, and he has called each afternoon that Mama is at home; he stays precisely fifteen minutes. At the last two balls, he has claimed two dances, including the supper dance if it has been available. I believe these signs indicate he is leading up to a proposal.”
“I shall look into his background, but I haven’t heard of any financial troubles that would make him unacceptable.”
“My dowry is excellent, of course, but he does not appear to be a fortune hunter. He converses as one would expect from one of his rank and from what he says, he holds sufficient property to keep me in a style that my parents cannot fault. He has a title that is probably acceptable to them, although not as estimable as your own.”
“A baron would be perfectly acceptable to any young lady.”
“Just not me.”
Rufus nodded at a passing acquaintance, then turned back to Clem. “You do not love him; therefore, his suit is unacceptable to you.”
Clem glanced at Rufus. His lips were pressed together, and his jaw was firm. As she watched his profile, a muscle ticked in his cheek. “Rufus—”
“Leave it with me.” The words shot from his mouth like an order, and Clem faced front, letting a silence stretch between them that felt as wide as the mouth of the Thames River where it met the Channel.
Rufus was never short with her. He was all that was competent and reassuring, polite and charming. He was her friend, and he had promised he would find a way to fend off her suitors until Will came home.
Minutes passed before she dared ask, “What will you do? How can I help?”
Rufus guided the horses around a pair of carriages drawn up close to one another but almost blocking the road.
The occupants, all young women, were engaged in a lively conversation filled with occasional high-pitched laughter.
They appeared to be oblivious to others in the crowd taking the sunshine in the park, although the sideways glances of both drivers indicated their dislike of the situation.
Once Rufus had negotiated a safe passage around the obstacle, he turned to Clem, but his expression was clouded.
“Continue to behave as you have been. Present the face of a daughter happy to oblige her parents in your quest for the right husband. Show them you are happy to entertain Lord Hetherington’s suit along with any others, but raise a tiny concern about the hint of a rumor you overheard recently that makes you wonder if there is something in his background to raise concern in a loving father. ”
“What concern should I give them?”
“Keep it deliberately vague. You didn’t hear any details, only that there is cause to question what he does in the city.”
Clem frowned. “And is there genuine cause to worry about him?”
“I suspect there will be something I can use. How I will achieve that, I cannot say. Casting a slur on a man’s reputation without cause is not my style, Clem, but I will not allow you to be pressured into a marriage you do not want.
I gave Will my promise as I gave it to you the night we first met. ”
“I don’t know how I would go on without you, but I wish you would tell me your plan.
” Clem fiddled with the ribbons of her reticule, weaving them around her fingers and then reversing the action.
It was a bad habit she had developed since Will had disappeared, but the only way she could calm her turbulent thoughts and keep control of her desire was to vent her frustration.
If only she played the piano better, one of Bach’s fast and furious pieces might offer relief.
They drove on in a comfortable silence, greeting acquaintances as though without a care in the world, but when Rufus delivered her home, he paused before helping her from the curricle. “All will be well. I’ll see you tomorrow night at the Berkley’s musicale and let you know how I get on.”
She hoped that would be so, but all she said was, “Thank you, my friend.”