Chapter 15
“More tea, Henry?” Rufus said and nodded towards the tray.
“No thank you, Your Grace, I have had quite sufficient.” Henry smiled and leaned back in his chair.
Rufus had insisted that the two of them take tea in the drawing room that afternoon, even though Henry objected, stating that he had too much work to do to stop for tea.
“Yes, I think I have too.” Rufus eyed the last of the little cakes that had been set out for the two men and knew that he did not have room to squeeze in even just one more.
“Is something troubling you, Your Grace?” Henry said when he straightened up in his seat again. “Forgive me, but you have seemed a little out of sorts these last few days.”
“I suppose it is just the cut and thrust of this matrimony business which has worn me out just a little.” He laughed. “Even though it would seem to be you who is doing all the work, Henry.”
“It is hardly work at all, Your Grace.” Henry smiled back in his customary kindly fashion. “All of the young ladies and their families are incredibly keen.”
“Yes, and I will refrain from saying that they always are, my dear Henry.”
“Quite so, Your Grace.”
“But I must say that the idea of meeting them all is something I find quite exhausting, even before I begin.”
“Yes, but you have already had one successful meeting, have you not?” Henry ventured. “Or two since you met two young ladies in one sitting.” He laughed.
“Yes, very time efficient, Henry, I must say.” Rufus laughed too, determined to be amused despite the fact that the curious little note which he had kept in his pocket ever since receiving it was playing on his mind.
He was sure that he had never seen the strange, roughly dressed little man anywhere before. Surely he was simply somebody who had been used as a messenger by somebody else, instructed to wait outside the gentlemen’s club until Rufus appeared that night.
And whoever it was who sought to warn him of God alone knew what , clearly they did not wish their own identity to be known. If they had, surely they would have waited for a response of some sort. But then they had signed themselves as nothing more than a well-wisher ; an absolute term of anonymity.
Rufus wondered if it was not that as much as everything else that had unsettled him. He felt a little as if he was being watched by somebody who knew him a little better than he knew them. Or perhaps it was somebody he knew very well indeed, but one who could not approach him with the information that they wished him to know. For whatever information it was that they truly wished him to know, it was clear that they had not said it in the note. They had barely hinted at it, truth be told.
“Yes, I thought it wise to begin with that family. I thought the idea of killing two birds with one stone might appeal to you in the early stages.” Henry rubbed his hands together as if he were cold suddenly. “And tell me, Your Grace, what did you think of Lady Patience and Lady Georgiana? I must say, I think them absolutely delightful.”
“Do you really?” Rufus said before he had a chance to stop himself; He had not meant to sound so disparaging and quickly sought to remedy the situation. “Yes, I suppose they are, really.” Rufus went on, “A little forthright, but very amusing and engaging. And very pretty indeed.”
If he were honest, Rufus did not mean a word of it. He had seen the competition between the sisters the first night he had met them at the masquerade ball, and their behaviour had certainly not improved upon the second meeting. If anything, he had thought them even more competitive and a little cutthroat with one another.
He knew that young ladies could be cutthroat amongst themselves, but from sister to sister he found it most distasteful. It was as if they did not appreciate the close bond, not as he would have appreciated such a bond himself had he ever had a sibling.
And their father was quite something else altogether. He was so keen to appear humble that he actually ended up appearing anything but. In one moment, he was ingratiating himself and, in the next, he seemed almost to be boasting and doing his best to tell the Duke how he ought to feel and think.
You know my wife, of course … As you have seen for yourself, my daughters are very well groomed. And then, I am sure you know, Your Grace, young ladies of the calibre of my daughters are few and far between. He really was one of the most tedious men in creation; Rufus was in no doubt of that.
“Yes, they are extraordinarily beautiful, Your Grace. And their father is such an agreeable man. And not only agreeable, Your Grace, but really very wealthy indeed.”
“Yes, he seemed to make me aware of that fact over tea somehow. Not an easy thing to slide into the conversation, but the Earl of Dandridge managed it admirably.” Rufus was fighting to keep the sarcasm from his voice.
“Probably just nerves, Your Grace,” Henry said, clearly in a forgiving mood.
“Yes, probably just nerves.” Rufus did not want to appear ungrateful to the man who was, as always, working so very hard on his behalf.
“I am sure that he will be much improved next time you see him. Next week, at dinner, I believe?” Henry spoke tentatively as if he were addressing a horse who was about to bolt.
“Yes, I am very much looking forward to it,” Rufus said, injecting enthusiasm into his tone that he did not feel for a minute.
And yet, at the same time, he knew that he did not want to miss an opportunity to attend Dandridge Hall again. Ella Winfield had affected him with her honesty and dignity, not to mention her plight. And, although she had explained her need for secrecy, although she had told him the truth of the source of the fear he saw in her face that afternoon at bridge, still he knew that she had simply skirted around the rest of it.
It was clear to him that she had not wanted to play upon his emotions in any way; in fact, quite the opposite. Whenever he had tried to push for deeper information, she had countered with the idea that all that was needed in her circumstances was a little time for everybody to adjust.
But from all he had seen that day at Dandridge Hall, he knew that that could not possibly be the case.
And what sort of mother would ever have treated her own daughter in such a way, and in front of a Duke to boot? He wondered what kind of relationship existed between mother and daughter and if it had always been so, or if it had changed dramatically when the mother had married the Earl.
Something about the whole situation made him want to find out more, particularly when the young lady had not done anything to seek his help, even though he felt sure he had made it plain that he would be happy to give it. She was not aloof, exactly, but rather she was self-contained, and probably a very resourceful sort of a woman.
She had a certain spirit, something he could almost feel, and it reminded him somewhat painfully of his masked woman of a few short weeks ago. He still thought of her every day and wondered who on earth she could be.
And he had continued to nurse a hope that he would one day cross paths with her again, and they could enjoy such an open and honest conversation, only without the need for masks this time. If only he had never met her, for she had become his true ideal, an ideal he did not know he would ever find again.
But, in the meantime, he could certainly content himself with finding out a little more about Miss Ella Winfield and her circumstances. He knew nothing of the Winfield family and wondered if perhaps Henry Mercer might.
“Henry, I must say that I found the Earl’s treatment of his stepdaughter curiously unnecessary.” As Rufus spoke, Henry Mercer’s head tilted to one side quizzically.
“Stepdaughter?” Henry said, telling Rufus exactly that the man had no idea of the young lady’s existence at all.
“Yes, when I attended for afternoon tea, I was reintroduced to Patience and Georgiana, and Lady Ariadne, of course, and then, after a certain pause, I was introduced to a Miss Ella Winfield. Actually, I was introduced to Miss Winfield , for that is how the Earl described her.”
“Miss Winfield?” Henry looked completely set adrift.
“Yes, I believe she is the daughter of the new Countess. She must lately have been married to a man called Winfield, presumably.”
“Yes, presumably,” Henry agreed. “And I was vaguely aware that the Earl and Countess have recently married after both being widowed, but I do not know how long the Countess was widowed before she married the Earl. The Earl, I am quite certain, lost his wife a good many years ago when his girls were quite little, I believe.”
“As far as I can make out, the Countess married the very minute her period of mourning was over, so her husband cannot have been dead much more than twelve months.” For some reason, Rufus did not want to give away too much.
It was not that he did not trust his attorney, for if he could not trust him, who could he trust? But rather it was because he had made a promise of discretion to Miss Winfield, and he did not want to break it, even though she had only asked he not speak of it with her own family.
“I say, that seems awfully quick,” Henry said and laughed. “Still, I suppose that is the modern way of things, and I am nothing but an old fossil.”
“You are anything but, my dear Henry.” Rufus laughed.
“You are very kind, Your Grace, but an old man must admit the thing that everybody else can see with their own eyes.”
“So, you know nothing of the Winfield family at all?”
“I am afraid that I had not heard of them until this conversation.”
“I wonder who would know,” Rufus said idly.
“Why, do you have a particular interest in the young lady?” Henry said, and Rufus realized that he had already given away too much.
“No, not particularly,” he said as lightly as he could. “It is just that I did sense a little tension in the household and wondered if there was something I ought to know before returning to Dandridge Hall for dinner.”
“Well, I shall make a few discreet inquiries,” Henry said and looked a little concerned. “But I am bound to say that they are a very fine family, and I cannot imagine that there is anything about them that would cause any particular objection if you found yourself drawn to one or the other of the sisters.”
“I am quite sure too,” Rufus said and decided to change the subject. “Well, what of the other young ladies? Have any arrangements yet been made for me to meet with them?”
“It is a work in progress, Your Grace. A work in progress.”