Chapter Fourteen
The viscount had just announced that two were off at first light? Who was off at first light? Poppy looked at Violet and she shook her head. Then she looked at Daisy, who looked just as confused.
“Ah yes, first light,” Lord Burkhart said, “though we hope to return, of course. Wonderful hospitality.”
We? Did that mean Mr. Lelander was going too? Is that what they’d been talking about in the library? That they would both go?
Why? Why would they go when things looked so promising?
She glanced at Mr. Lelander. He nodded gravely. “Wonderful hospitality, indeed.”
“I see,” the viscountess said. “I had not known you were to be off on the morrow. I will see that Mr. Moreau arranges baskets for your travels.”
“That is very kind, Lady Mulholland. We are called away, unfortunately,” Mr. Lelander said.
Called away by who? It seemed rather preposterous that they would be called away together.
“Is there some emergency unfolding in the north?” Pansy asked.
Both men seemed unsure. Then, Mr. Lelander said, “It does rather feel like one.”
“It is not anything affecting Cumberland, I hope,” Lord Hemmings said.
“No, no, nothing to do with Cumberland,” Lord Burkhart said.
Poppy and Pansy exchanged looks. Whatever was the cause, they would not come out and say it. Every answer was vague and cagey.
She was getting a very bad feeling over it. Poppy could see very well that Pansy was too.
“That’s gentlemen for you,” the viscount said in a jolly tone. “They come, they go, they come, they go.”
Was that how gentlemen were? Could she have led herself astray about what she thought was developing?
She was inexperienced, of course. The only experience she had was watching her older sisters as gentlemen came to the house.
The only one who had ever left without speaking was Mr. Hamilton.
But that was because his father had come and taken him away.
Nobody’s father had come to take anybody away.
This idea that they’d been called away, she could not believe it.
For one thing, Smuckers would be aware of any post coming in for either one of them.
For another, it would be absurd to imagine both of them had received a letter calling them home on the very same day.
For another, they had closeted themselves in the library well before the post ever came.
They were lying about that.
Why were they lying about that?
Was it to get away from she and Pansy? Perhaps they’d thought things were going in the direction of an understanding and did not wish it? Did they begin to feel trapped?
She poked at her syllabub as she ruminated over it. Mr. Lelander had little to say for himself.
Finally, the viscountess rose. It was sooner than she would normally, but a sort of pall had settled over the table.
Poppy found herself glad to go. She wished to speak to her sisters. Perhaps one of them had a more cheerful idea about what was happening.
Somehow, Burkhart had not quite envisioned just how awkward it would be to not say why he and Lelander were leaving in the morning. The dinner had been very uncomfortable.
Miss Pansy had asked various questions whose natural answers would have been explanations of what he and Lelander had been doing in the library all day.
He’d given very vague answers that did not reveal anything about their real purpose.
As for the viscount, he could not make him out at all. When the gentleman had come into the library, Burkhart had been hesitant to say what they were doing. Was it quite right to inform him of their intentions if, in the end, those intentions could not be carried out?
But then on the other hand, did they not risk that more gentlemen would be invited to the house while they were gone?
Hemmings had invited him and Smythesdon had invited Lelander.
There were other brothers-in-law. Including Knightswood, who was a London man and would know everybody in the world.
There would be no end of men who could be invited to try their luck with the ladies.
As he silently debated those points, Lelander took it upon himself to blab the whole thing.
Burkhart had thought the viscount would be delighted that two respectable gentlemen were expressing interest in his daughters.
While it pained him to think of Lelander as respectable, to southerners he would be seen as so.
Nobody in the south ever thought about the shamelessness of the Lancastrians.
Lord Mulholland was not at all enthusiastic. Particularly at the beginning of the conversation. It turned out he did not like all his daughters leaving him. Particularly not the last two he had.
The viscount had been mollified after adding his own points to the peace treaty. For one, Christmas was forever to be at Chemsworth Hall. For another, there was to be a return of dowries if the treaty were broken. Points his father would rail against, among all the other points.
At dinner, Burkhart could not quite tell if the viscount even remembered their plan to get a treaty signed by their respective lords.
This afternoon, the ladies’ father had agreed with them that nothing could be said until they were free to say it, and that the twins could not be separated with any success.
He did not wish for two daughters suffering from disappointed hopes.
The gentlemen were only to say something when they were free to say it with no impediments to the twins’ happiness.
The viscount was to keep their plan under wraps from everybody, including the viscountess.
He’d ended the conversation with: “Well, if you do not come back, I’ll know what happened with nobody else the wiser. "
But then he’d announced their departure in such an odd way.
Almost as if he was jolly to see the backs of them.
Burkhart had been forced to hint that they hoped to return.
He probably could have come up with something better than the comment on fine hospitality.
It sounded as if he wished to return for Chemsworth’s dinners.
He should have said something about wishing to return for the genial company.
That would have been a hint closer to the truth without saying anything outright.
The ladies looked most unhappy that he and Lelander were to leave at first light. That was a positive sign, but might not that unhappiness turn to resentment? Resentment was bound to lead to a turning away.
He felt very torn about whether they were taking the right steps.
At this point, he’d like to ask, be accepted, make a run to Gretna Green, and face the consequences afterward.
That, however, was not a reasonable idea.
For one, the viscount would never sanction it.
For another, Miss Pansy would never agree to it.
And for another, it would still leave the problem of the twins being separated hanging in the air.
No, the whole thing must be done right. Miss Pansy would expect everything to be done right and he would expect it for her.
Now, the ladies had been led out and the gentlemen were left to their port.
He could see very well that both Hemmings and Smythesdon wished for answers, though they would be too gentlemanly to come right out and ask questions.
If it were him, his first question would be: “You were meant to be here another fortnight, what happened to that plan?”
"On the morrow, then?" Smythesdon asked. “Off to…the north.”
Smythesdon had purposefully avoided naming the counties lest that bring up the usual argument about Yorkshire, Lancashire, and the Rose’s War. Burkhart nodded.
"Most reluctantly," Lelander said.
"But you would wish to return?” Hemmings asked. “I believe you said that.”
“Very much so,” Burkhart said.
“Soon or not soon?” Smythesdon asked.
“Hopefully soon,” Lelander said.
“Young gentlemen,” the viscount said jovially, “one never knows what they will do next.”
Smuckers seemed to take a dim view of that opinion. The fellow was positively glaring. Burkhart caught his eye and Smuckers promptly turned away to the sideboard, but not before delivering a little sniff of disapproval.
Burkhart could not fault him for it. As it would appear to the butler, things had been progressing for the ladies and now the two gentlemen were running for the hills.
The idea must be entirely offensive to him.
They would be lucky if they did not get sprayed in the face with his gin-gun on their way out as a fitting farewell.
“Bound to happen sooner or later,” Granger muttered.
Burkhart did not dare inquire what was bound to happen sooner or later. Any inquiries could just lead to more questions for him and Lelander.
He drained his port. All he had to do was take this treaty home, wrestle his father into signing it, see that Lelander got his signed, and come back with it.
If he was determined, he could probably complete the trip in five days.
Then, he figured it would take him at least three days to convince his father. Then another five days back.
That was not so bad, was it? Thirteen days until his return. If everything went smoothly. Which it must.
All he had to do was manage the drawing room this evening, somehow dropping hopeful hints without promising anything until he was sure he could deliver on those hints. Then they would be off at first light.
Pansy had followed her mother out of the dining room. She did her very best to keep her expression neutral as if nothing at all was amiss.
She thought she might be in shock actually. The very last thing she had expected to hear at dinner was that the gentlemen would leave on the morrow. At first light, as if they could not get away fast enough.
She had wondered if her mother or Mrs. Dallway or Violet or Daisy or even Maribelle would see things differently.
They did not.
After Maribelle took Bertie and Teddy above stairs, the looks of consternation exchanged in the drawing room could not be misconstrued.
“I do not understand this at all,” Violet said.