Chapter 16
The Sisters
“Facts or opinions which are to pass through the hands of so many, to be misconceived by folly in one, and ignorance in another, can hardly have much truth left.”
Jane Austen, Persuasion
Elizabeth stood on the threshold, all the light and noise of the party spilling out around her.
“Mrs. Rutherford.” Her air of cheerful politeness that carried a diamond. “How are you enjoying your evening?”
“Very much,” replied Rosalind. “Only, I find it rather close inside. One of the consequences of such a well-attended party, is it not?”
“Yes. Another is that it can be very difficult to speak in private.”
Rosalind arched her brows.
Elizabeth laughed. “Oh, come, Mrs. Rutherford, let us not pretend. You saw me meeting a man in the garden.”
“I did,” replied Rosalind.
“And you are of course curious as to who it might be.”
“I confess that I am.”
Elizabeth laughed a little. But she also glanced over her shoulder.
Rosalind could not tell what, or whom, she might be looking for, or indeed, if she found them.
But Elizabeth stepped further out onto the pied-à-terre.
Rosalind followed. Now they stood at the edge of the fall of light from the doorway—two casual acquaintances chatting and contemplating the shadowed statuary.
“Now I must ask for your discretion, Mrs. Rutherford.” Rosalind’s expression must have betrayed something, because Elizabeth laughed again.
“Oh, no! It’s not that! No. The man you saw is from the Lansdown stables, where we’re keeping Kinsdale’s Pride before the race.
” She dropped her voice yet lower, and the false cheerfulness fell away.
“Since Father … well, the close care of an animal is not where his talents lie. So, I’ve asked the men to report to me whenever there’s a change in her health.
And you may understand, I cannot have Father thinking I am going behind his back—”
Rosalind nodded.
“So, discretion is needed. The man you saw leaving through the back gate is Caleb. Kinsdale’s Pride has been off her feed and was showing signs of what might possibly be colic.
However, he came to tell me that the draft she was given earlier seems to have done the trick and her appetite has returned. ”
“Well, that is excellent news,” said Rosalind. “I’m sure you’re much relieved.”
“I am,” said Elizabeth. “Mrs. Lynn tells me I worry far too much, and she’s probably right. But when you’ve pinned every hope on one plan … it is difficult not to worry.”
“I do understand,” said Rosalind sincerely.
Elizabeth beamed, and in that instant, the expected party manners returned, drawing a veil over the young woman Rosalind had glimpsed so briefly.
“And now, you and I should return to the party before we are looked for. I trust the cards have been favorable for you?”
“I have not played,” said Rosalind as they both strolled back into the heat and the light. Rosalind was not certain if the volume of noise had actually increased, or if her coming from the quiet of the garden made it seem that way. “I notice you do not seem to favor the tables either.”
Elizabeth’s smile at this was reflexive, and entirely bland.
For a moment, Rosalind thought, she looked very like her father.
Rosalind was aware of a mix of frustration and sadness.
She felt she had almost glimpsed the truth of the young woman in front of her, but now Elizabeth retreated behind a veil of platitudes and clever talk.
“As you can imagine, Mrs. Rutherford, I have enough uncertainty in my life without adding games of chance.” As if to emphasize this point, a burst of groans and laughter rose from one of the tables at that moment.
Both Elizabeth and Rosalind turned to watch a young man delightedly raking in a large pile of tokens.
“I know what you’re thinking.” Elizabeth leaned in, holding up her fan to bring an air of confidentiality to their conversation.
“It would not do at all in London, would it? Or even in our part of the country. But here in Bath things are much more free and easy. Personally, I am glad to have some life and color. Things were so quiet with us before we came here.” The words flowed smoothly.
Rosalind found herself wondering how many times Elizabeth had spoken them.
“I gather Mrs. Lynn arranges the guest list.”
Elizabeth shrugged with one shoulder. “She knows so many people, it would be silly of us not to take advantage of her acquaintance.”
“Was that how you came to know her? At a party?”
“Oh, no. It was the most absurd thing,” replied Elizabeth.
“A complete accident, if you must know. She was visiting a friend in our village. I had been making calls, and afterward decided to walk home, since the weather was so fine. I was passing through the market, and I heard a woman talking in a rather heated manner to a horse dealer. She was pointing out the defects in an animal that a friend of hers was planning to purchase. The friend, however, was dismissing all she said.”
“This friend was a gentleman, I imagine?” put in Rosalind archly.
“Oh, naturally! Well, I don’t know what imp took hold of me then, Mrs. Rutherford.
It was most assuredly none of my business!
But I stepped up to them both and said, “She is absolutely correct; what’s more, the poor old beast’s mane is very badly dyed.
” And I ran my hand down the mane—the creature was so dispirited it didn’t even flick an eye toward me—and came away with black streaks all down my palm!
” Elizabeth laughed at the recollection.
“We’d gathered quite a crowd by then, and they all burst out in applause and catcalls and such noise!
I took my leave as quickly as I could, because I really did think the dealer was about to meet with some violence from the mob!
But before long, I heard someone calling after me.
It was, of course, Mrs. Lynn. She thanked me for taking her part and insisted on purchasing me a new pair of gloves, and after that we went to the tearooms, and before the afternoon was over, we were fast friends. ”
“Was it their common love of horses that drew your father to her as well?” inquired Rosalind.
“That, and well”—she paused—“it is not the sort of thing one says, of course, but Father is one of those men who needs a woman’s steadying influence.
Since our mother died—” She stopped again.
Rosalind waited. “—Well, he’s been a bit lost. My sisters and I have tried to make up for it.
At least, I tried,” she amended, and Rosalind did not miss the bitterness under those words.
It was the first genuine emotion she’d displayed since they had begun talking.
“Clara has been too caught up in her own dramatics, and Cynthia, well, you saw my sister at dinner. She is either silent, or she’s raging, and one can never be sure which way it will be from one moment to the next. ”
“She seems to feel she has cause for concern,” said Rosalind. “Is she wrong?”
Elizabeth did not seem to hear the question. “If only she could see that she’s not helping anything with her outbursts. Or her brooding. At least when Clara was worried she did something. …”
“You mean her engagement?”
Elizabeth turned fully toward her, her green eyes hard and assessing.
“Do I shock you, Mrs. Rutherford? I’m sorry, I’ve become …
well, jaded I suppose. But yes. Do not mistake me,” she added quickly, remembering Rosalind was said to be a friend of Devon’s family.
“Clara truly cares for Casselmaine. But she wanted to wait. Not because of him, but because of everything our family has been through. That’s always been Clara’s problem.
She doesn’t trust herself, let alone any of us.
” These last words rippled with an old, cold anger.
A moment later, however, Elizabeth seemed to realize she’d said too much.
“But what must you think of me?” She forced her tone to become light and sunny.
Now, she looked less like her father and more like Mrs. Lynn.
“Spilling out my family troubles at a party, of all things! I’m so glad Sylvia—Mrs. Lynn, rather—did not hear me!
She’d be teasing me for weeks! You won’t say anything to her, will you? ”
Rosalind made herself smile. “Your secret is safe with me.”
“And now I must make the rounds.” She sighed, her attention already drifting about the rooms. “You will excuse me, will you not?”
“Of course.” Rosalind stood aside to let Elizabeth breeze past her into the card room, but she turned to watch where she went. Mrs. Lynn was also in the card room, at the faro table. She laughed and applauded along with the crowd of spectators as a fresh card was plucked from the box.
Elizabeth did not so much as nod at her friend.
Instead, she made a beeline for the refreshment room.
One heartbeat later, Mrs. Lynn left the faro table, and followed Elizabeth to the refreshments.
They both stood facing the heavily laden table, but neither one of them helped themselves to anything.
Elizabeth was talking. Mrs. Lynn was listening, and Rosalind, much to her frustration, could not discover any way to get closer to them both without being seen.
Rosalind turned away. She let herself drift into a quiet, or at least quieter, corner of the salon.
She stood there for a while and thought about the evening.
She thought about Admiral Walsingham, and his declaration that he knew what game Sir Anthony was playing and that he was not afraid to expose it.
She thought about Cynthia in disgrace upstairs, and Elizabeth arranging meetings in the garden, possibly abetted by Mrs. Lynn.
She thought about the casino atmosphere all around them, and, most unusually for her, she found herself wondering once again about horses.
It was something of a relief to see Adam making his way toward her.
“I expected you to be a bit longer at your game,” she remarked.
“So did I,” said Adam. “Unfortunately, I don’t have the ready money to join in most of the games the gentlemen are engaged in.
” His mouth tightened into a small, mirthless smile.
“I did learn, however, that if I apply to a certain pair of gentlemen especially invited by Mrs. Lynn, I may obtain the requisite amount, by leaving my pledge to repay.”
“Oh dear.”
Adam nodded. “If I went to the magistrates now, I could make an excellent case that Sir Anthony should be arrested for running an illegal gaming house.”
“Do you think he realizes?”
Adam’s gaze swept the crowd. Sir Anthony was now standing with a little group of black-coated men who passed a snuff box back and forth between them.
“I think Mrs. Lynn will have deflected any concerns he might have had.”
“I expect you are right.”
“Several of the gentlemen did remark that the Kinsdale hospitality is much appreciated,” Adam said. “And all the more so because it is widely understood there may not be many more evenings like this, especially once the sweepstakes are run.”
“Given Cynthia’s outburst at dinner, that’s hardly surprising.”
“Indeed. What did surprise me was that this sentiment wasn’t universal.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, there was an undercurrent of … something. Men at cards, some of them, will pretend to knowing more than they do, but there were some looks, some remarks. My lack of funds kept me from being able to stay in the game long enough to ferret out details, but something is going on.”
“Something about the races?”
He nodded again, and dropped his voice even lower. “If I didn’t already think there’s some scheme centered around this poor horse of Sir Anthony’s, I would now, and I think these parties, or at least some of the guests at these parties, play into it.”
“I agree.”
“Have you seen something?” Adam asked.
“An assignation in the garden, and a man who does not appear to be one of the party guests.”
Adam’s brows rose.
“And I believe that our hostess attempted to stop me from seeing Elizabeth leave.”
Adam’s brows inched higher.
“It was all easily explained however,” she went on. “The person in question was one of the men from the stables, come to give her news regarding the horse’s health. Apparently there was some concern about a colic developing.”
Adam nodded. “That can be a very serious matter in a horse.”
“So I am given to understand.” Rosalind pursed her lips. “I think I should go visit Cynthia. She may be glad of someone to talk to who is not family.”
“I think that would be a very good idea,” said Adam. “I will try to have a few words with our host. And I think that tomorrow I will go speak with the admiral, before Sir Anthony’s man of business arrives, if I can. I’d like to know exactly what he discovered when he visited the stables.”
Rosalind nodded and folded her fan. She used the gesture to cover the touch of her hand on his arm. Adam smiled briefly, and they again went their separate ways.