Chapter 27 #2
“As you say, Lady Esher,” replied Lady Huxley demurely, dropping another curtsey before stepping back, and seeming pleased with her evening’s work so far. “I shall not stay long. You would not grudge me a drink before I return to Huxley Manor, I suppose?”
Lady Esher waved her hand in a gesture of uncaring.
“Do excuse me, Lady Huxley, I have other guests.”
“What an awful woman!” Seraphine opined to Louisa, having listened to the exchange, despite nodding along politely to Lady Bentham’s near-monologue.
“Yes, Great-Aunt Clara was a most difficult individual,” sighed Lady Bentham, assuming everyone else was equally occupied with the subject of her middle daughter’s protracted engagement.
“If she had not stipulated that the legacy was dependent on her descendants keeping both family names, then there would have been no conflict with Henry’s family over the land endowments, and the marriage contract might have been finalized last Christmas… ”
Louisa felt herself trembling, partly from anger and partly from overexcited nerves. Sensing her discomfort, Seraphine excused them both from Lady Bentham’s group and drew her cousin into a quiet corner.
“What is it, Louisa? You don’t believe what that woman tried to imply do you?” asked Seraphine quietly. “You’re shaking.”
“No! Of course I don’t believe her,” Louisa completely disclaimed the idea. “How could the Duke of Northwick be a murderer? Everyone would know of it. Anyway, he simply isn’t. Benedict is kind and good, and Aunt Beatrice defended him, and Ezra loves him…”
“But what about you, Louisa?” Seraphine pressed her. “What do you feel, what do you think?”
“I think Lady Huxley came here to try and hurt and disturb us. We should not let her succeed. She will be gone soon. Oh, look up there, Seraphine!”
Louisa had spotted a small figure in a white nightgown watching the company through the bannisters of the first floor landing.
“Fanny,” sighed Seraphine. “Oh dear, she has woken and sneaked out of the nursery. I expect Gertie has fallen asleep herself. I must go up and sort things out before we have Ezra up and about too.”
“Go,” Louisa encouraged her. “I am perfectly well and everything is under control.”
As Seraphine ascended the stairs, Louisa looked up towards Fanny and dropped a playful curtsey towards the child, holding her white silk skirts widely and bowing low as if before a throne.
The little girl giggled, not really alarmed to have been discovered, and Louisa was glad to have made her happy.
Fanny had such fun earlier while Louisa and Seraphine were dressing too, being trusted to pass Melissa the family pearls to hang at Louisa’s neck and tiny white and yellow flowers to be pinned in her hair.
Dressing real ladies was even better than dressing dolls, it seemed.
“You should go and circulate, Louisa,” Aunt Beatrice advised now as the receiving line temporarily ended again. “Almost everyone has arrived and there is no need to stay here with me any longer. I’m sure the gentlemen will be back soon and keen to dance.”
“If you’re going to wait out here a little longer, can I bring you a glass of champagne?” Louisa suggested, more interested in Benedict’s return than in wandering through crowded rooms without him. “Seraphine has gone to put Fanny back to bed.”
“Champagne would be very welcome, thank you,” replied her aunt appreciatively.
Going into the nearest reception room where refreshments were being served to those on their way to the ballroom, Louisa paused several times to receive several further rounds of congratulation from guests who evidently felt their earlier greetings insufficient.
By the time, she finally had two glasses of champagne in hand, she was warm and smiling with all the goodwill that seemed to be gathered in the house tonight. Even if Louisa must marry and leave Rosemere, how lucky she was to have grown up here with all these good people!
She did not want to leave her childhood home but she could not deny to herself that she did long very much to be alone with Benedict in a place that was all their own, to be held in his arms without fear of interruption, and to learn all of the new pleasures that he had promised to teach her.
In a few more days, there would be no reason to hold back.
Louisa knew that Benedict’s fuller attentions would give her children, scheduled or not.
Oh, how funny that silly, misunderstood conversation in the rose garden seemed now!
Her fast-beating heart melted at the thought of a dark-haired babe in her arms someday.
“Lady Louisa, my cousin wanted you to have this.”
Lady Huxley’s voice broke in upon Louisa’s daydreaming like a stone through a greenhouse window. Louisa recoiled from the woman and the envelope she was holding out, narrowly avoiding spilling the champagne in her hands.
“I do not want it,” Louisa replied. “Please tell Lord Ashbourne not to write to me or to anyone else at Rosemere. Excuse me.”
Lady Huxley was determined, however, and moved swiftly to block Louisa’s exit.
“My cousin thinks very highly of you, Lady Louisa, and always has done. He wants nothing but the best for you and is concerned for your welfare. I insist you must at least read his letter.”
“I shall not!” Louisa declared. “It is not proper that he should approach me, even through you, and you have no right to insist upon anything in this house.”
“Lady Louisa, your husband-to-be is not just a rake but a murderer too,” stated the blonde woman bluntly, her fixed smile barely wavering. “Edmund cannot stand to to see you being dishonored in this way. Do you think my cousin can let you marry such a man without apprising you of the facts?”
“The Duke of Northwick is a good man,” Louisa said steadily, shaking her head.
“Do you not owe my cousin at least the courtesy of reading his letter since you have evidently already listened to his enemies speak against him?”
“I owe Lord Ashbourne nothing!” retorted Louisa angrily, finding herself shaking again with the force of her emotion and realizing that this exchange was beginning to attract the attention of other guests.
For the first time in her life, she was tempted to throw a drink at someone, but that would really cause a stir and set the gossips chattering.
Louisa could not have all Aunt Beatrice’s efforts tonight remembered only for an ill-mannered argument.
If Lady Huxley did not move, she would simply have to barge past her.
“My cousin expects…” Lady Huxley began but was immediately interrupted by a man’s deep voice as the Duke of Northwick came to Louisa’s side, the Duke of Wexford close behind him.
How long had they been there? Clearly long enough.
“I just heard Lady Louisa tell you that she owes your cousin nothing, Lady Huxley,” Benedict told her in cool, implacable tones, snatching the letter out of the older woman’s hands and taking in the handwriting that addressed Louisa.
“I must concur. We have both heard rather too much from you tonight, Lady Huxley, including your vile insult and beschmirching of my name.”
“That is a private letter for Lady Louisa,” snapped Lady Huxley, her smile finally vanishing. “How dare you?”
“Do you want this message?” Benedict asked Louisa pleasantly.
“I do not.”
Looking Lady Huxley in the eye, Benedict tore the unread letter into small pieces and tossed them over his shoulder. She glared back at him with utter fury and loathing before turning to Louisa once more.
“Ask your husband-to-be what happened to his father, Lady Louisa,” the older woman said in low but vicious tones. “Ask him how the former duke died.”
“Why do you imagine, Lady Huxley, that the Duke of Northwick is not willing to tell me anything I ask of him?” returned Louisa, her voice thankfully sounding far calmer than the beating of her heart in her ears. “He has never given me any reason to doubt him and I have nothing else to say to you.”
Benedict took the two glasses from her slightly shaking hands and passed them to Damien. Turning his back pointedly on Lady Huxley, he raised and bent over Louisa’s hand.
“I believe this dance is mine, Lady Louisa.”
“Yes,” she replied, butterflies fluttering in her stomach at the thought of how soon this man might lawfully claim far more than a dance from her, and how much she longed for it.
Louisa could see Lady Huxley fuming silently as Benedict led her towards the ballroom.
Still, with the reassuring strength of the man beside her, the warm, male scent of his cologne in her nostrils, and the joy that his smile sparked in her heart, Louisa found it impossible to dwell on any negativity for long.
Surely that unpleasant woman would leave now that she had done her worst and there would be no more trouble at Rosemere tonight…