"Yes. And while I owe him some thanks, for that is what prevented Mr. Thornbridge's murder, I still cannot like his motivation. He was curious. Can you fathom this: he assigned someone to follow and report on Thornbridge's movements merely to satisfy his curiosity about me and Mr. Thornbridge? What was he expecting to discover, do you suppose, that I am his secret mistress? I have never been so furious!" She paused to draw breath, her slender body rigid with rage.
Lady Meriton crossed to a side table and poured her a glass of sherry. "Here, dear, this might help."
Cecilia took the small glass from her aunt and tossed off the contents. Lady Meriton clucked disapprovingly.
She set the glass down and resumed pacing. She shook her head, her pale brow furrowed, and her full lips compressed in thought. "Jessamine, Branstoke acts like he is playing an innocuous parlor, game for amusement. To compound the ludicrousness of the entire situation, I believe he knows more than I do. You should have heard him try to sidestep certain subjects. Oh! I swear my brain is beleaguered with ideas and suppositions. I would that I could talk with Thornbridge!"
"Perhaps you could visit him at this doctor's residence. What did you say his name was? Hilton?"
"No, Dr. Heighton. And you're right. That is probably what I should do first before I worry myself to finders. Oh, but I don't even know if I could think straight to pen a coherent letter. My head is truly pounding."
"And you are promised to drive out with Lord Havelock to Hyde Park in a little over an hour."
"I completely forgot that engagement. I do not want to go. I can't go. My thoughts are swirling. I should be poor company and would most likely cause him to remain out of my company in the future, which would not suit my purposes. No, I shall have to compose a note breaking our engagement."
"Perhaps you can suggest tomorrow afternoon as an alternate."
"Only if it is not too late and we are not out overlong. Remember, I am pledged to accept Sir Harry's escort to the Waymond's ball tomorrow evening."
"I remember. You know, of course, you'll have to grant similar privileges to Havelock and Rippy."
"Yes, I know. At least I may truthfully say I have one burden removed in the person of Sir James Branstoke."
Lady Meriton laughed. "Do not be so quick to cast him aside. I have noted a phenomenon strangely suited to phlegmatic individuals such as your Branstoke."
"He is notmine!"Cecilia ground out, frustration and uncertainty authoring her manner.
Her aunt shrugged. "No matter whose he is, I wager he is tenacious. We have not seen the last of Sir James Branstoke, and you, my dear girl, are going to be extremely happy about that fact."
Cecilia glared at her.
Lady Meriton smiled indulgently. "You'd best write that note to Lord Havelock if you wish to cancel your meeting; otherwise, it will be too late and much too embarrassing."
Reluctantly Cecilia agreed and went off for paper and pen.
Late the next afternoon, pale gray woolly clouds were slowly converging when Cecilia accepted Lord Havelock's hand into his phaeton. She was grateful it was not a high perch model, for in her continued preoccupied condition, she'd likely have misstepped and tumbled back onto the pavement in an ungainly bundle of skirts and petticoats. Tooling about Hyde Park at five o'clock was not what she wished to be doing. Unfortunately, she knew no other recourse, for it would not be politic to break her engagement with the gentleman a second time. Consequently, she assented to accompany him and donned a new, colorful outfit of cornflower blue and yellow for the occasion. She looked lovely, and if her eyes did not sparkle or the roses bloom in her cheeks, it was not to be remarked upon. She was polite, pleasant, yet distant, for her mind remained bent upon considering Mr. Thornbridge and his activities.
She'd waited almost all day for a return note from Dr. Heighton. She waited in vain, for though Dr. Heighton responded, it was not with the looked for response. He disallowed her visit! She'd been shocked. He wrote with the greatest formality and deference, but he begged to inform her his address was not suitable for receiving visits by gentlewomen. Anyway, he continued, he was sending Mr. Thornbridge to the country to recuperate at his father's residence. Perhaps she could visit him there.
Visit him there! She didn't even know where his people came from! She supposed she could gain that information through Waddley's, but it would likely cause too many questions.
She felt confoundedly helpless. It was not a state she welcomed. She hated helplessness and all its attendant ramifications. She could not allow herself to float on the river like a punt without a pole. To be left to the mercy of wind, tide, and obstruction—natural or otherwise—was a fate to be abhorred. It was a fate to which too much of her life had already followed to dismal ends.
No!It was not fair to bundle her marriage with Mr. Waddley with dismal events. She smiled slightly. Maybe it would be best to say her life with Mr. Waddley had been a time floating on a particularly peaceful and slow-moving waterway.
"Ah! A smile," said Lord Havelock. "I was wondering if I was destined to spend the entire carriage ride with a statue—lovely though that statue might be."
"I beg your pardon, Lord Havelock. My mind is taken up with other matters. Matters that I am sure you would consider light, but in my existence carry much weight." She allowed her laugh to titter self-consciously.
He appeared to consider her words. "I have experienced that circumstance with my mother and sister. I believe I may be trusted to understand and forgive."
Cecilia's eyebrows rose, and she suppressed an urge to laugh. "You relieve my mind," she managed in only a slightly strangled voice.
He nodded but did not look her way, his eyes on his leader. "I understand Reggie has not been behindhand in soliciting your hand in marriage."
"What would you know of the matter?" she asked carefully.
He allowed a slight smile to pull at the corners of his lips. "From Reggie, of course. I also know you rejected him. Wisely done. He is a pleasant fribble but easily cowed. Should you marry him, you two would no doubt flounder about. You need a firmer and steadier hand."
