She put one hand flat along the keyboard and pressed down all the keys beneath it. Then she slammed the hand down twice more. “Leave me alone,” she said. “Just leave me alone!”
He looked at her hand for a few silent moments before positioning his crutches under his arms and starting to get up.
“Don’t go!” she said. And she spread both arms along the keyboard and laid her forehead down on her hands. The noise was quite deafening until it faded away.
He set one hand lightly against the curls and sat quietly.
“Ellen’s baby is not Papa’s,” she said. “It is Lord Eden’s and they are going to be married. And Papa has not been dead four months yet. And I have no business saying this to a near-stranger.”
“That doesn’t matter,” he said. “Sometimes it is easier to talk to a stranger. You are badly hurt?”
“Papa worshiped her,” she said. “I think he loved her more than he loved me. And she pretended to love him. But she deceived him. With his closest friend.”
“I saw them together,” he said gently. “Your father and your stepmother, I mean. It never seemed like pretense to me. Are you sure this was going on before your father died?”
“She swears it was not,” she said. “But she is a liar as well as everything else I called her. I hate her. And him. But her more, because she deceived me too. I loved her.”
“Perhaps she is telling the truth,” he said. “Eden was with her, wasn’t he, after he was wounded? There can be a powerful bond between a wounded man and the woman who nurses him. I know. It happened to me too. Perhaps there was nothing between them until then. I have the greatest respect for Mrs. Simpson. And for Eden. I don’t think they would have done that to your father.”
“Were you in love with Madeline before you were wounded?” she asked.
“Not really.” He moved his hand to her shoulder as she sat up again. “I admired her a great deal. But then, I admired several young ladies, yourself included. I fell in love with her afterward-for a time. We have ended our betrothal now.”
She looked sharply around at him.
“We have not quarreled,” he said. “We have merely agreed, rather sadly, that what happened in Brussels was not a very real or lasting experience. We would not suit. We realize it now. Strange things can happen in those sorts of circumstances, you know. Perhaps even what has occurred with Eden and your stepmother. Give her a chance to show you that she is not what you called her-I can imagine what that was. But don’t assume without further proof that what has happened since your father’s death was also happening before then.”
“You are being kind to me,” she said. “Why? I never lose an opportunity to be rude to you.”
“Perhaps that is why,” he said with a smile. “Perhaps I have needed someone to be rude to me. Too much kindness has been driving me insane.”
He removed his hand from her shoulder as the door to the music room opened behind them. He turned to see the dowager countess enter. She smiled at him and raised her eyebrows significantly.
“I am going to choose a book in the library,” he said, pulling his crutches beneath his arms again.
The dowager watched him leave the room, while Jennifer sat with bent head again, examining the palms of her hands.
“Well, my poor child,” the dowager said, taking the place on the bench that Allan Penworth had just vacated and putting an arm about the girl’s shoulders, “it would seem that my son and your stepmother have been causing you some pain.”
THEY WERE ALL INVITED that evening to dine with the Courtneys. Just an informal gathering, Mr. Courtney had assured them genially when he had come over the previous day, in the rain, to issue the invitation, to keep the young people amused. He said nothing about the older people, but everyone knew that Mr. Courtney liked nothing better than a lively social gathering, especially when it was in his own home.
He insisted on calling his home a farmhouse and his drawing room a parlor. In reality, he was a prosperous tenant farmer, a fact that was reflected in the size and grandeur of his home. But Mr. Courtney was not one to put on airs. His only real ambition had ever been to marry his only daughter well, and he had achieved that three years before, when she had married the younger brother of Baron Renfrew.
Even Lieutenant Penworth decided that he would join the party. He shared a carriage with Madeline, Lord Eden, and Ellen. Jennifer, who had neither looked at nor exchanged a word with Ellen since the afternoon, traveled in the other carriage with the earl and his wife and mother.
Lord Eden touched Ellen’s hand while a footman was helping the lieutenant into the carriage and Madeline was hovering over him.
“Trouble?” he asked quietly.
She nodded.
“You told her, then?” he asked.
She shook her head. “She guessed. But not quite accurately, I’m afraid.”
They did not have a chance to say any more. The other two had settled into their places, and the conversation became general.
The Lampmans had also been invited for dinner. The Mortons, the Cartwrights, the Carringtons, and the Misses Stanhope joined them later in the evening, and Mr. Courtney announced that there would be dancing in the parlor for anyone who cared to indulge in some exertion.
“No offense meant, ma’am,” he said in his hearty voice, taking one of Ellen’s hands between both his own large ones, “you being in mourning and all. But Susan has been feeling low, and Mrs. Courtney and I thought that a little informal dancing with friends would be showing no disrespect for the dead.”
“No offense is taken, sir,” she said, smiling at him. “And a little dancing would be very pleasant.”
Miss Letitia Stanhope had agreed to play the pianoforte, having quite recovered from her chill. Mr. Colin Courtney was to play the violin, though he had made it clear to his father that he would dance a few times with his young wife.
Lord Eden danced the opening set with Lady Lampman and the second with his sister-in-law. He had taken several uneasy looks at both Ellen and Jennifer and judged it wise to stay away from both for the first part of the evening, anyway.
He led the elder Miss Stanhope into a vigorous country dance, and soon had her blushing and shrieking and assuring him that someone of her years could not be expected to twirl quite as fast as the young girls.
“But you were always a dreadful tease,” she said breathlessly during a pause while they made an arch for another couple to twirl down the set. “You and Sir Perry, both.”
“Not twirl fast, ma’am?” he said. “Someone of nine-and-twenty not able to twirl fast? I find it hard to believe.”
Miss Stanhope shrieked again and called him a rogue.
He was breathless himself by the time the set had come to an end. He stood by the open door of the parlor to benefit from some of the coolness from the hallway beyond. Susan collided with him there on her way out of the room.
“Oh, my lord,” she said, looking up at him with large eyes, “I do beg your pardon. I did not see you standing there.”
Lord Eden smiled in some amusement. He thought he was too large a target to be invisible. It was amazing the number of times in the past several years that Susan had run into him.
“I was on my way outside,” she said.
“Not ‘outside’ as in ‘outdoors,’ I hope,” he said. “Is it not a mite chilly, Susan?”
“It is warm in here,” she said. “Besides, there are three new kittens in the barn, and I don’t trust the dogs not to harm them, despite what Papa and Howard say. Poor little things. They are so helpless.” Her eyes became suspiciously bright.
“Well, then,” he said, “we must simply beat off the brutes with a stick, Susan. And you shall show me the kittens.”
“Oh, but you must stay here,” she said. “You will want to dance. I would not dream of taking you out into the cold, my lord.”
He smiled. “A few minutes will not ruin my enjoyment,” he said. “Especially when there are new kittens to be admired.”
“You are very kind,” she said as they left the room and went in search of their cloaks.