Lady Madeline's Folly (8 page)

She was giving serious consideration to curtailing the party, to returning to the city in time for the new year. Perhaps Henry would be there. She would have a party. That she and her father already had a party planned at Highgate was not so much forgotten as ignored.

Then she received a letter from Henry, which changed the mood of depression that was settling over her. It was brief, but contained good news. His mother had recovered—it was not so serious a cold as he feared. Might he present himself at this late date for the tail end of her party? It was a rhetorical question. He was already on his way, to arrive that same afternoon.

How brightly the sun was suddenly shining! It gleamed an iridescent orange, gold, and green on the new-fallen snow. Her own new year’s party suddenly seemed an excellent idea after all. It would be enlarged, more youngsters invited to give it a livelier air. The old men around the fire were listened to with a keener ear, now that there was a specific purpose to understanding their chatter.

It was on that day she acknowledged to herself that she had fallen in love at last. She was in love with Henry Aldred. She had always supposed that when love came, and she had not actually despaired of its coming, despite her allegations to the contrary, it would be some highly placed, worldly, older man who would win her. That it would be a provincial fellow younger than herself, and a good deal less versed in the doings of the world, was a fascination to her.

It was true love then, the head-spinning, heart-lifting, oblivious-to-the-rest-of-the-world sort of a passion she had been waiting for. Henry had not yet made his mark, but with her behind him, doors would open swiftly. Money would no longer be a problem. They could live with Papa for the present, saving up her income to buy a place of their own when Lord Fordwich died and his heir took over the estates. By then Henry would be established too, making a worthwhile salary of his own. All this was settled in her mind before ever he arrived.

She knew as soon as he came in that the absence had worked the same miracle on him. He looked at her with a brighter, more proprietary eye. His conversation was more personal, more closely verging on the lover-like.

“How nice to see you again!” was his first speech, when she met him at the door. He seized her two hands in his cold fingers. After an awkward moment, he bent down and placed a cousinly kiss on her cheek. “There, that is for looking so beautiful,” he said with a shy smile, as though conscious that he imposed on her good humor. “Even better than I have been dreaming...
remembering,”
he adjusted quickly. She drew him into the hallway, still holding on to his hand, to see her Aunt Margaret coming forward.

Her aunt was a comfortable middle-aged matron. Lady Margaret preferred the ease of country life to the bustle of the city. She had no keen interest in fashion. Her gowns were dark and simple, her hair unstyled, her figure unbound by a corset. She had achieved a roly-poly shape, and a wide, round face, whose main charm was its good-humored smile.

“So you’re the young man I’ve been hearing so much about,” she said, running a practiced eye over him. A modish many-collared greatcoat hid his jacket, but even without a view of Weston’s work, it was clear to her that Maddie had found herself a very handsome one this season.

Madeline made the introductions. “Your niece has been holding out on me,” Henry said. “She hasn’t told me a thing about
you,
but Papa tells me he has the honor of your acquaintance, ma’am.”

“I knew him when he was in shortcoats. I suppose he has got over that nasty habit of thrusting toads and frogs into a girl’s face by this time?”

“I believe so. Now that he is more mature, he thrusts badgers and rats. He most particularly asked me to inquire whether
you
still hide your head under a pillow at night to escape the bogeyman who used to visit you when the moon was full.”

“No, I still do it,” she said with a laugh. “Imagine Andy remembering that. We spent a summer together once about a hundred or so years ago, on a farm in Scotland. I can’t recall how it came about. My mama was in the straw, but I don’t know what accounted for Andy’s visit.”

“I expect my papa was in the basket,” he answered lightly.

“I’ll have the butler show you to your room, Henry,” Madeline said, eager to get him to herself. “Come to the study when you are freshened up. We have such a lot to talk about.”

“I like him,” Lady Margaret said when he had gone abovestairs. “A handsome fellow. I always liked Andrew Aldred. He would have amounted to something in the world if he had made a decent marriage. It would be a pity if his sons followed in his footsteps. I expect their papa has cautioned them against such a course. I suppose you have a well-dowered young girl all picked out for him by this time, eh Maddie?”

“It’s a bit early for that yet,” Madeline answered blandly, but a blush betrayed her feelings.

“I do not refer to yourself, goose. You can look higher than Mr. Aldred. Still, he is a bright, lively lad. It will be nice to have some young company in the house for you.”

Within minutes. Henry was back downstairs, searching Madeline out in the study. She ordered tea and a sandwich for him, then sat down to talk.

“Before we begin, Madeline, I have some confessions to make,” he said, casting his brown eyes on her in a beseeching way.

“What is it?” she demanded, alarmed, with some premonition that it involved a girl.

“About my foot-dragging in the matter of Tilsit’s offer. The fact is, when I went to London, I was instructed by my father to go to Neville, a friend of his. I don’t know whether the name means anything to you, but he is a Whig. He offered me a position, a paltry job really, but that is not why I refused it. At the moment, I don’t merit anything better than that. I refused because you had convinced me my interests lay elsewhere.

“I knew my welcome at your home would be removed if I accepted Neville, and how could I deprive myself of my only joy in London? But till I talked it over with my father, explained my reasons to him in person, I disliked to definitely turn Neville down. It would have hurt my father, had he heard the news from Neville and not me. That was the real reason I went home, to unencumber myself of my guilty secret to Papa. He was understanding, however. Once he learned I truly believed in the principles of the Tories, he urged me to put my efforts where my feelings were. He’s a wonderful man, my father. I wish you could meet him. Now that I have convinced him, I can give Tilsit his reply. I shall see him as soon as we get to London.”

“I don’t see why you could not have told me all this sooner,” she objected. “But it is no matter. I am satisfied with it. It is unusual to find a young man who takes such consideration of his parents’ wishes nowadays. I respect you for it, Henry. And your mother... ?”

“She had a cold. I would not
lie
outright about it. It was not very serious. She is all recovered, thank God. You are so understanding, Cousin. I hope you will not lose your respect for me when you hear the rest.
Some
confessions, I said. The fact is, I was—now how shall I say it?—
entangled
with a girl at home. Not serious, you know, but when you have been on good and friendly terms with a young lady for a year, some private conversation is necessary to let her know nothing is going to come of it. We were not committed in any way, no engagement, nothing of that sort. It is only that she might have had some expectations. You know how silly some girls are. You stand up with them twice, and they take the notion an offer is about to be made. We parted on the best of terms, no hearts broken, no hard feelings on either side. In fact, I come to think I was overly solicitous for her feelings. She already had another fellow on the string, but when you deal with
people’s feelings,
you don’t want to risk hurting them.

“There, that is my last confession for the day. Are you wretchedly disappointed in me? I have been unattractively secretive in my dealings with you. I want that to be all over between us. You know exactly where I stand. My heart is lighter for having told you.”

“Wretch! To get me all in a dither for nothing. I’m sure there are dozens of girls brokenhearted to see you leave your home. If the chit you speak of has got herself another beau already, she cannot have been brokenhearted.”

“No, and neither am I. She seemed so terribly rustic, so narrow in her interests to me after being with you—in the city, I mean, mixing with all the people you have introduced me to. Quite spoiled me for the provincial life. You had better make me a prime minister, milady, for you have ruined me for the station to which I was born.”

“Who is to say you were born to molder in the country? There is nothing to stand in the way of anyone’s getting to the top. It is not only in America that men are born equal.”

“Money, for one thing, stands in the way. The lack of it, I mean.”

“If that is all that’s keeping you out of the prime minister’s seat, we must find you a nice, rich wife,” she suggested, regarding him closely, but in a careful way, pretending to glance past his head out the window.

“Have you anyone special in mind?” he asked softly.

“No, how should I so soon? Give me the commission, and I shall present half a dozen debs for your perusal, sir.”

“Don’t limit the selection to
debs,
Maddie. I always preferred older ladies.” His eyes were smiling, admiring, questioning, bright with interest.

“What would a young rogue like you want with an older lady?” she quizzed.

“I don’t mean ancient. No gray-haired widows, if you please. Some lady with town bronze, to guide me through the shoals and narrows of the wicked city. Any friend of yours...”

“The ladies who made their bows with me are mostly married, unless they are positive antidotes. I don’t suppose you would settle for a squint, or a gapped-tooth smile?”

“I am convinced you will find me someone. I leave the matter entirely in your capable hands. If you fail, then I have an idea myself...”

No more was said on the subject, but the look they exchanged expressed a complete understanding.

“I’m very glad you told me everything. The fact is, Eskott came running to me with tales of your speaking to Neville, and of course I was furious.”

“You must have been ready to boil me in oil. I might have known Eskott would do me a bad turn if he could. He’s in love with you, isn’t he?”

“He is fond of me. We’re very old friends.”

“He’s in love with you. But I know you don’t lead him on. He is seen everywhere recently with Lady Susan Someone-or-other. A plain-looking girl, and old as the hills.”

Madeline knew the lady was younger than herself, but she said nothing of that. “He is more often seen at the Second Court of St. James, I believe.”

The end of the holiday passed like a sort of magical dream. She was seldom away from Henry. They drove, walked, and skated together during the day. In the evenings, they went to one country do, and on two occasions had guests in to be entertained. Henry was gallant, attentive, jealous of any competition, with a blend of subservience, awareness of his inferior position, yet manly firmness that could not but please her. During any spare hours, they talked with the older men, hearing more than once that Perceval was all that put their government in jeopardy.

“It’s a crying shame Perceval won’t step aside, for the good of the party, and let you take over in his stead,” Henry said indignantly, aiming his flattery in Fordwich’s direction.

The old man was in perfect agreement with him. He could not suggest such a thing himself, but was grateful to hear it said.

When Henry went on to butter up each minister in his turn, he was soon found to be a “bright young lad” and a “comer.” The party needed more like him. The approval of Henry was almost palpable in the room.

For the last few days of the party, Madeline seldom gave a thought to Eskott’s gala do, proceeding at a lively pace without her. Her party for the new year was enlarged to ball-like proportions, though it was not called a ball. Henry looked devastatingly, handsome in his black outfit, with a shirt as white as snow displayed at his neck. The country gentlemen faded into insignificance beside him. All her old friends were gazing in admiration, whispering that Lady Madeline was to make a match at last. Madeline outdid herself in the matter of toilette. She chose white, which brought Aunt Margaret’s wrath down on her head.

“Back to your debutante days, are you, Maddie? I like you better in colors. It don’t make you look a day younger to deck yourself out like a young girl.”

“I’m only twenty-five, Auntie. Not quite bagged yet, do you think?”

“More importantly, Mr. Aldred don’t seem to think so. Your papa will never allow a match, Maddie. Oh, I know you are going to tell me he hasn’t offered, but he will. You are giving him more than enough encouragement. It isn’t right to lead the fellow on, only to have to turn him down in the end. It isn’t like you to be so thoughtless.”

“Who says I will turn him down?” Madeline answered sharply.

“
I
say your father will turn him off. It is all well and good to amuse yourself by playing puppet mistress with your boys, but this goes beyond the others. I don’t like it. And furthermore, I come to think I don’t like Mr. Aldred as well as I did. I heard him being very toplofty with the Smileys last night. There is no reason for him to be looking down his nose at them. They could buy and sell him.”

“Very likely, but they cannot touch him for intelligence.”

“Sly, I call it, to be sitting listening to the old fellows talk, then parroting their own thoughts back at them, to get their approval. I haven’t heard anything in the way of an original idea come out of his handsome mouth.”

“He has to make his way in the world. He won’t do it by arguing with the men in power. He is young; naturally he must listen and learn.”

“Must he also toady up to them? ‘Let me get you a glass of port, sir.’ ‘Have you seen this article in the
Herald,
Lord Timmins?’ ‘How I should love to be able to sit in on one of the cabinet meetings, and hear you all speak.’ Little better than toad-eating, if you ask
me.”