Twenty

When Gwendeline met Lillian the next day for their ride, she scanned her face eagerly for some sign that the major had made an offer, but Lillian looked much as usual. There was no particular excitement in her expression; indeed, she seemed unusually subdued. As they started down a path, her conversation was of commonplace things. Gwendeline sighed. It seemed that nothing had happened yet. After a while, they sank into the companionable silence of old friends, and rode for some time without speaking. They’d reached a rather deserted stretch of parkland—their grooms had fallen behind and were talking together—when Lillian spoke again. Her tone was uncertain. “Gwendeline, have you had any, well, any rather strange conversations with Lord Merryn lately?” she asked hesitantly.

Gwendeline looked up sharply. Could Lord Merryn have told Lillian about her request to him? She felt the blood rush to her face. “Strange?” she replied. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t really know,” said Lillian. Her eyes remained on the ground. “But has he said anything to you or done anything unusual lately?”

“Unusual?” Gwendeline was mystified.

“Unusual,” repeated Lillian, sounding rather impatient. “Out of the ordinary, atypical.” She stopped suddenly and put a hand to her forehead. “Oh, Gwendeline, I’m very much afraid I’ve done something gooseish.”

Gwendeline’s puzzlement was only deepened by these remarks. “Whatever are you talking about?”

Lillian turned to look at her finally, and her eyes showed real concern. “I’ve been arrogant and foolish and tried to interfere in your affairs, Gwendeline. I only deserve to fail, but you should not suffer for my meddling.” She appeared to be near tears.

“Lillian, tell me what you’ve done.”

Lillian straightened a bit in her saddle. “Yes, I must tell you. I hope you can forgive me, Gwendeline. I never meant to… Well, that is beside the point.” She brushed back a lock of black hair that had escaped from her hat. “You know I wished to help you extricate Lord Merryn from this ridiculous engagement?” She looked nervously at Gwendeline.

“Oh, Lillian,” said the latter. “I begged you to do nothing.”

Lillian nodded miserably. “I know. I wish I’d listened to you, but I thought I had a plan that could not harm anyone.”

“Tell me.”

“After I learned of your feelings, I thought for a long time. Finally, I hit on the idea of making Lord Merryn jealous.” She glanced at Gwendeline, who was frowning, and went hurriedly on. “I began to drop hints when I talked to him about your many admirers and…”

“But I have no admirers,” Gwendeline broke in. “Whom did you name?”

“No one,” replied Lillian. “I never used names. I was not completely idiotic. And you do so have admirers.”

“A few acquaintances who partner me at dances I have, I admit,” Gwendeline said, “but somehow I doubt that you told Lord Merryn that.”

Lillian hung her head. “I tried to be very careful, but I seem to have given him an entirely false impression.”

“Oh, Lillian.”

“Well, I never meant to suggest to him that you were about to marry,” she protested.

“What!”

Lillian hurried on. “I only meant to show him that you were sought after. I thought that if he believed others were interested in you, he might give up this stupid engagement with Adele and seek to fix his interest with you before it was too late.”

“What exactly did you say to him?” asked Gwendeline grimly.

“Only vague hints, I promise you. I said nothing specific.” Lillian paused and sighed. “But when I met him in Bond Street this morning, I realized I’d made an utter hash of things and I had to confess it all to you.”

“You met Lord Merryn?” Gwendeline frowned. “Did he say something about me?”

Lillian looked out over the shrubbery next to the path. “He was quite strange. I’ve never seen him so… so… Well, I don’t know what to call it. He was very abrupt, almost impolite, which is not like him at all. But he was also almost, almost grim. That’s the only word I can think of to describe it. Perhaps he was thinking of something else entirely as we spoke. I don’t know. But his mood was peculiar.”

“But what did he say?” Gwendeline was bouncing in her saddle with impatience.

“Well, we exchanged commonplaces at first, and I was just telling him that I was to ride with you today when he turned away very brusquely, saying he must go. I was taken aback. Then, as he was leaving, he said, ‘I believe we will hear some interesting news about Gwendeline very soon—possibly an announcement in the Morning Post.’ I asked him what news, and he looked at me very closely. He said, ‘You’ve heard nothing of a wedding?’ When I shook my head in astonishment, he appeared very annoyed with himself and strode away.” Lillian shook her head again now. “The whole scene was very unlike him. You’re not planning to be married, are you, Gwendeline?”

“No, of course not,” Gwendeline replied, “but perhaps you’ve made Lord Merryn believe I am. Oh, how I wish you hadn’t spoken to him about me!”

Lillian hung her head. “Can you ever forgive me?”

“Of course I forgive you. But what am I to do now? I can’t go to Lord Merryn and tell him that I’m not getting married.”

“You could hint perhaps,” began Lillian, but she quailed under Gwendeline’s stern look. “No, no, you’re right. Hinting has not been very useful. You must simply wait. Eventually, he’ll see that you’re not preparing to marry and realize his mistake.”

Gwendeline looked thoughtful. “You know, Lillian, I have just realized how foolish we’re being.”

“What do you mean?”

“Whatever Lord Merryn may think about me, he’s still engaged to Adele. Nothing has really changed. You haven’t done anything so terrible.”

Lillian looked at her dejectedly. “I suppose you’re right. I wanted so much to change everything, and I have succeeded only in upsetting everyone.”

“Please don’t try anything else. It is hopeless.”

“Alas,” Lillian agreed, “I promise to tend to my own affairs exclusively henceforth.”

They reached the end of the wooded path and turned onto a busy avenue of the park. It was full of carriages and riders, and they amused themselves by watching the crowds and commenting on the behavior of those they knew. They saw Mr. Horton some distance away, mounted on a hack and escorting Alicia Holloway’s carriage. Lillian had several things to say about his horse, which she characterized as a slug. And Gwendeline caught an unexpected glimpse of Sir Humphrey Owsley, traveling in state in the opposite direction in a modish open carriage. His great bulk nearly filled the vehicle, and he was wrapped in so many fur rugs and blankets, despite the warmth of the day, that he looked immense. Gwendeline waved vigorously. It took a moment for her to catch his eye, but when he saw her, he bowed graciously and moved a hand slightly in response. “Let’s go and speak to Sir Humphrey,” said Gwendeline eagerly. This sight of her benefactor buoyed her spirits.

Lillian turned, curious. “Sir Humphrey?”

“Yes, Sir Humphrey Owsley. The man in the carriage there.” Gwendeline pointed.

“Do you mean to tell me that you’re acquainted with him?”

“Yes. Haven’t you met him? I’ll introduce you.”

Lillian shook her head. “I never get your limits,” she said, smiling. “First, Carleton Ames and now this. How do you manage it?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” replied Gwendeline.

“Do you not? Well, it happens that Sir Humphrey Owsley is something of a legendary character in London. No one knows him. Or, that is, very few do. He is extremely particular about whom he admits to his circle, and he is quite the richest man in town. Richer than Golden Ball, they say. Now wherever can you have met him? I understand he almost never goes out now.”

Gwendeline was digesting this information with some surprise. Had she known more about her benefactor, she thought, she would never have been able to nerve herself up to visit him uninvited. “He was a friend of my parents,” she told Lillian.

“Oh. Well, that explains it then. By all means, let us catch up with him. I’d love to meet this mythical personage.” They turned their horses and were about to follow Sir Humphrey’s carriage, when someone hailed them from the grassy border of the lane. Riding over, they discovered Adele Greene. Somewhat to their surprise, she urged them to dismount and walk a little with her, as she was out for a stroll with only her maid for company. Gwendeline grew cold as she wondered if Lord Merryn had said something to Adele about her recent activities.

However, no conversation could have been more ordinary as they began to walk across the lawn. Lillian and Gwendeline looped the skirts of their riding habits over their arms, but Adele took no notice of any inconvenience she might have caused them. She chattered on about her wedding clothes, the parties she’d attended recently, and the beauty of the park, leaving the other girls little to do but murmur polite affirmatives. Finally, they reached a bench and sat down at Adele’s request. Gwendeline was wondering how soon they could excuse themselves and continue their ride.

“There,” said Adele when they were seated, “now we are all cozy and private and can have a comfortable talk.”

Lillian raised her eyebrows but said nothing.

“I’ve been so very busy lately,” continued Adele, gesturing helplessly. “I’ve scarcely had time to see any old friends. I’m so glad we happened to meet today.”

Lillian directed a sidewise glance of astonishment at Gwendeline. Neither girl knew how to reply to this remark, but Adele gave them no chance in any case.

“I’ve missed feminine companionship,” Adele said. “My sister is married now, and I never realized that becoming engaged would cut me off so from my former pursuits.” After this statement, she paused as if for a reply.

“It is indeed unfortunate,” answered Lillian after a short silence. When Adele looked away, Lillian shrugged slightly and shook her head wonderingly at Gwendeline.

“There are so many things I’ve wished to discuss with someone who could truly understand,” Adele went on. Her remarks seemed directed only to Lillian; she hardly glanced at Gwendeline. “I’ve felt the need of a friend more than once.” Though she paused again, there was no reply to this sally, and after a moment, she continued. “You must know what I mean, Lillian. You are about to become engaged yourself. You must have felt the burdens of that new state.”

“I?” said Lillian. “I have no plans of that nature.” Gwendeline wondered wildly if Lord Merryn had confided her efforts and his brother’s feelings to Adele.

Adele raised her eyebrows. “Really? You’re not simply being modest about your great good fortune? I have heard that, or I mean, I thought that you’d come to an understanding with the Duke of Craigbourne.”

Lillian sat back on the bench as Gwendeline breathed a sigh of relief. Lillian’s eyes began to twinkle. “Ah,” she said. “I know what you’re referring to now.”

Adele waited in vain for her to expand on this noncommittal statement. “It is true then?” she asked finally. “I must wish you happy.”

Lillian looked tempted. For a moment, Gwendeline feared she would say something imprudent. But her reply was unexceptionable. “No, Adele, you’ve been taken in by rumors.”

“Then he hasn’t offered for you?” Adele leaned forward. Her eyes glittered, then she seemed to recall herself. “I’m so concerned that you should be as happy as I, Lillian.”

“You’re too kind,” replied Lillian. “I do not hope for such bliss.”

Adele didn’t appear to hear her. “Oh dear,” she said, rising. “I’ve just remembered I promised to accompany my mother on a shopping expedition. I’ll see you at the duchess’s ball tomorrow, I’m sure. Goodbye.” She hurried away.

Lillian burst out laughing. “Adele’s audacity is always a step ahead of my expectations.”

“She seems rather sneaky to me,” said Gwendeline.

“Of course she is,” replied Lillian. “That’s what makes her so amusing. Truly good people are never so entertaining. I wonder what she’s plotting?”

“She’s so interested in the duke. One would almost think she has set her cap at him.”

“Oh, I believe she has. There’s no question about that.”

“But she’s already engaged. She cannot…”

“I wouldn’t be too quick to say what Adele cannot do. She’s put me in the wrong more than once on that score.”

“What shall we do?” Gwendeline asked.

“Do? There’s nothing to be done except watch events take their course. I’ve learned my lesson about interference.”

They remounted and continued their ride in silence. Gwendeline felt that she ought to be more pleased with the turn things were taking, but the uncertainty was almost worse than resignation. They came to the end of the avenue and were about to turn toward home when they saw Major St. Audley riding toward them. He was moving fast, and many heads turned to watch his headlong progress.

He pulled up sharply next to them with a rather breathless good day. His usual lighthearted good humor seemed to have deserted him.

“Where are you off to in such a hurry?” asked Gwendeline with a smile. “Weren’t you one of those who told me that it wasn’t at all the thing to ride faster than a sedate trot in the park?”

“I saw you from quite a distance,” explained the major. “I hurried to speak to you before you’d gone.”

“That was good of you,” Gwendeline replied. A silence fell. The major seemed to have nothing to say in spite of his efforts to join them.

“It’s a fine day,” Lillian said finally.

“Yes,” answered Gwendeline. She looked at the major. “We’ve had a splendid ride. The air is wonderful.”

The major did not seem to hear her. He was frowning in the general direction of a nursery governess and her two charges at the side of the path. The girl was beginning to exhibit some signs of annoyance at his steady regard, though in reality he didn’t see her at all. “I stopped at your house,” St. Audley said abruptly. “They told me you were here. I wonder if I might call again later today.” The governess gathered her children about her and walked indignantly away over the lawn.

“Why, of course,” Gwendeline answered. She was puzzled and afraid that the major had heard something of her interference in his affairs. Intrigue was apparently a very tiring pastime; she had to worry about what everyone was thinking. “You’re welcome at any time,” she added.

The major’s head jerked. “No, I… That is, I meant to address Miss Everly.”

Now Lillian was surprised and a little flustered. “You’re welcome in my parents’ house also,” she said awkwardly. “Come to tea, if you like.”

The major shook his head. “I should like to speak to you privately, if I may. Perhaps tomorrow morning?”

“I’m sorry. We’ll be out all morning, and perhaps all day. My aunt has come to stay for the end of the season, and we are to spend the day shopping.”

The major’s face fell. “I see.”

“You might call later in the week,” Lillian’s voice expressed her puzzlement at his behavior, and it held the slightest of tremors as well.

“No,” he answered. “That is, yes, of course. You must excuse me. I have a great deal on my mind.” And with no further explanations, he turned and rode away.

Lillian glanced at Gwendeline with raised eyebrows. “Whatever do you suppose has come over him?”

Gwendeline shook her head, but her spirits had risen. She took the major’s behavior as a sure sign that he had spoken to his brother and was planning to offer for Lillian now that he knew his true circumstances. She could barely contain herself. It was unfortunate, she thought, that no time had been set for the meeting, but the event was sure to be very soon. Perhaps she could arrange something.

Her mood was so buoyant that Lillian commented on it. Gwendeline could say only that she felt happy after their ride, a lame excuse which left Lillian eying her curiously. But Gwendeline didn’t care. She reached home just before tea and ran gaily upstairs to change into a gown of white muslin. She was brushing her hair and humming when she noticed a square envelope propped up on her dressing table. Abruptly, she sobered, and she reached for the letter.

Her fears were confirmed when she tore the envelope open. Written in the same rough characters as before were the words, “Your time is up. Beware.” Gwendeline rose with an exclamation and rang for Ellen. When the girl hurried in, surprised to find her mistress home without her knowledge, Gwendeline held up the envelope.

“La, I had no idea you’d come in, Miss Gwendeline,” Ellen exclaimed. “Why didn’t you ring sooner? I was just down in the kitchen. You won’t ever guess what’s happened!”

“Never mind that, Ellen,” replied Gwendeline. “I wish to know who delivered this note.”

Ellen peered at it. “Note? I’m sure I don’t know, miss. I never brought it in here. But I must tell you…”

“All right. I shall ask Reeves.” Gwendeline strode out of her room and down the stairs, leaving Ellen gaping.

But Reeves also denied all knowledge of the note, and when they’d questioned all the servants, none would admit to placing it in her room. Gwendeline grew cold as the inquiry proceeded. How had the writer of these horrid documents gained access to her bedchamber?

By the time Miss Brown returned home from a shopping expedition, the house was in an uproar. The older woman listened calmly to Gwendeline’s story and read the note. She looked worried as they sent the note to Lord Merryn, enclosing with it an explanatory letter.

As Gwendeline sat in the drawing room that evening, trying to do some sewing, she couldn’t help feeling that some ominous progression of events had caught her up. Where would it end? And how?

She looked up when Miss Brown came in. “I’ve found out nothing further about the note,” the older woman said. “Except I may have discovered approximately when it was placed in your bedchamber, along with some news that will interest you.”

“What is it?” asked Gwendeline.

“Well, while we were out this afternoon, all the servants were gathered in the kitchen for quite some time, it seems.”

“Is there some new problem?”

“Not at all. It was a celebration. It seems that Alphonse and Yvette and John and Ellen have announced their engagements. There was a party for most of the afternoon. An intruder could have taken advantage of that fact.”

“How did all this come about?”

“Evidently, John and Yvette gradually turned from sympathetic listeners to eager participants in the romantic complications. And now it appears that you’ll be losing nearly all your servants within the month. John and Ellen talk of returning to the country and Alphonse and Yvette of leaving for France now that the war is over.”

“It needed only this,” said Gwendeline.