Chapter 6

 

 

When had she lost any semblance of control over her siblings? Aphrodite wondered. She sipped a cup of chocolate and contemplated her reflection in the mirror as Mignon brushed and smoothed her hair into a confection of curls and braids.

When they were younger, Terpsi, Athena, and Aski had been impulsive and audacious but fairly well behaved. Now Athena and Terpsi had burst into fecund womanhood like orchids in a forcing house, and she had no idea how to fend off the swarm of those who wished to . . . well, wished to pollinate them!

She closed her eyes and tried to think of something more pleasant, something she could take care of, but a vision of a wingéd Warwick hovered on the edge of her consciousness. She refused to explore that avenue.

And Aski. Was there anything more foolish than this Italian nobleman escapade? Well, he wasn’t hurting anyone, and she could only hope it wouldn’t embarrass the family. Hah! she thought. As if anything he could do would discomfit anyone but her.

“There you are, Lady Aphrodite.” Mignon stepped back and looked at her mistress in the mirror. “If you didn’t have those frown lines, you’d look a fair treat.”

Startled, Aphrodite stared in the mirror at herself. Yes, she did have frown lines, deep ones between her eyebrows. She reached up to touch the left one to smooth it out, when she felt her eyebrow jump, beneath her finger. She wasn’t getting a twitch, was she? Just a little one, she thought, and it was barely noticeable with the furrows on her forehead. Wasn’t she too young to be getting wrinkles? Too calm to have acquired a tic?

“I’ll find some white lily water, Lady Aphrodite. We’ll rub that in tonight. That should smooth out your lovely skin with no problem. You do have lovely skin, my lady. Prettiest in your family.”

“Thank you, Mignon.” Aphrodite nodded as she rose and smoothed down the skirt of her deep blue morning dress. The colour did bring out the auburn shade in her hair and showed her creamy skin to the best advantage. All in all, she did look rather well, she thought. Certainly no one would notice those deep lines etched by worry.

 

• • •

 

“What’s bothering you this morning?” Warwick sat alone in the breakfast parlour. He put down the newspaper and stood as she entered. “Did you not sleep well last night?” Her lovely skin looked a little pale this morning. There were lines on her forehead, and those purple smudges seemed to have permanently settled beneath her eyes. Had she been unable to sleep? He could not tell her that she looked fagged out, but he was concerned.

Why did he care?

She rubbed her fingers across the frown lines. “Oh, dear. Are they that noticeable?” She laughed. “I must look like a hag.”

But she wasn’t really laughing. There was a quaver in her voice he’d never noticed before, and it troubled him. She was worried, obviously so. Warwick reached out, placed her hand on his arm and led her to a chair. Once she was settled, he poured her a cup of tea.

“Would you like sugar?” He handed her the cup.

“Thank you. This is just how I like my tea.” She sipped it and leaned back in the chair in contentment.

“I’m afraid we are alone this morning. My sister and her brood are eating in the nursery.”

“And I’m sure my sisters are still in bed.”

“Frederick always eats late, with his revered mother. My nephew and your Italian friend went off early this morning for some adventure.”

“Oh, dear.” She sighed as she straightened, and the lines between her lovely eyes deepened. “What could they be up to?”

“You know how boys are.”

“Only too well.” There was a touch of stoic acceptance in her voice.

“May I get you some breakfast?”

“I’m perfectly capable of getting . . .”

“There is no doubt in my mind that you are capable, but you might take advantage of having someone wait on you for a change.”

“What a luxury,” Aphrodite said with a charming laugh, light and utterly enchanting. “Then fill my plate up with whatever looks good. I do like haddock and buttered eggs.”

When he placed two plates in front of her, she smiled up at him. How little it takes to please her, he thought.

“My lord, you must think I have my brothers’ appetites. Will you not share this plate?”

“You are entirely too thin, my lady. I believe we shall have to fatten you up. Isn’t that why one comes to the country? To regain one’s health and vitality?”

“I had hoped the country would be restoring.” The frown threatened again. “However, it has been a little more taxing than I expected.”

“Are your sisters giving you trouble again, dear Patience?”

“I am certainly not Patience, nor do I need another name. Aphrodite is name and enough.”

“Then may I use it, since, after all, we are to be family? You must call me Thomas, as I have requested before.”

“You insist, Thomas?”

He was surprised at how easily she had finally accepted the suggestion. Probably due to lower resistance with all the capers her siblings indulged in. “Yes, please call me Thomas. Now, tell me, what has you in the dismals? Could it be my Aunt Matilda, your sisters, and, perhaps, that young Italian scamp?”

“I scarce know what you mean. I love my family, and I am delighted to see Luigi again.”

“Do not raise your hackles, my dear. If you are not ready to tell me, I shan’t ask more. Know that I am a friend and do not like to see those lines of worry.” He reached out and placed the index finger of his right hand on her forehead to smooth away the furrow.

When she jumped and looked frightened, he soothed her by saying, “I promise I will not harm you, but seeing you so anxious . . .” He stopped speaking because he had no idea how he felt, only that her distress greatly disturbed him, a man who really didn’t care much about how others felt. “I do not like to see you so anxious.” He dropped his hand.

“Thank you. I appreciate your concern, but the thought of what could happen at any time with my dear family . . . Well, the possibilities almost overwhelm me. I used to be quite good at taking care of my brothers and sisters but, of late, I feel as if I have lost any influence I ever had.”

“Surely you should not have to watch over them. Are they not grown?”

“Someone must, my lord.”

“Thomas,” he said and smiled.

“Thomas,” she said and returned the smile. “I’m not sure that my siblings will ever be grown. There are so many of us and someone must be responsible.”

“Surely that is the responsibility of your parents.”

“I dearly love my parents and they love all of us, but they have unusual ideas of how to rear children. They have allowed each child to experiment. This has led some into deep waters from which they must be rescued.”

“But you are too young . . .”

“Someone,” she said, and the lines between her eyes became deeper even as he watched. “Someone must make sure that Athe . . . that one of the girls doesn’t blot her copybook or that one of the boys doesn’t kill himself in a reckless prank.”

At the entrance of a footman with hot tea, Warwick sat back in his chair and motioned for the servant to fill their cups. When he left, Warwick said, “But you are barely older than your sisters. Certainly it should be time for you to enjoy yourself.”

“I am almost engaged, Thomas. There is no more time for fun.” When she realized what she’d said, Aphrodite clapped her hands over her mouth. “Oh, dear, I didn’t mean . . .”

“I’m sure you didn’t.” Warwick took one of her hands and held it. “Looking forward to a long life with the charming Matilda Horne must lead to paroxysms of joy.” As she studied the other hand, which now lay in her lap, Warwick said, “I wish I could assume part of your burden, my dear, but it is obvious you are not going to allow that. I’ll vex you no longer. Instead, tell me what you hear from your older brother Aeolus. He and I often discussed his obsession with the Nile when we were in school together.”

“We hear nothing, but that is not unusual. Aeolus has never been much of a correspondent. Even as a child, he shut himself up and read books about science and distant places. He actually caused little trouble, except, of course, for the time he fell off the west tower when he pretended to climb the Himalayas. Or the time he was searching for the Northwest Passage and almost drowned in Mama’s lily pond. Actually, he was much less bother than Aski . . . than my other brothers.” She stopped, glanced at him, then away, and took a deep breath before continuing. “Did you ever meet my sister Artemis? I believe she came out . . .”

“My first year in town. She was lovely to look at but already in love with Sanderson. The rest of us merely admired her and fought to sign her dance card.” He paused for a moment, allowing her to believe that her sudden change of subject had caused him to forget what she obviously considered a slip. “And how old is your brother Aski?”

“Much younger than I am.” She dabbed at her mouth with her napkin then stood. “I must hurry. Just in case my sisters need me. I will need to check on what . . . oh, on what they are wearing.”

“Do they not have dressers?”

“Oh, yes, but they depend on me. To tell them what to wear. And other things. Excuse me.” She almost ran from the room.

So she had a scamp of a younger brother named Aski. He’d ask Susannah if she’d ever heard Geoffrey talk about him.

 

• • •

 

“Isn’t the garden lovely this time of year?” Frederick asked Aphrodite, who held his right arm, then turned to Athena to extend his left.

Athena held up the skirt of her fetching pale blue morning gown to keep it from picking up dirt or being torn by the ugly brown plants in Mrs. Horne’s garden. She placed the matching shoes carefully, making sure that she did not step in mud or any other lurking menace in the squalid little garden.

Terpsichore strolled ahead of them, stopping to inspect various of the dwarf shrubs that stood in rows around the area.

“Lovely,” answered Aphrodite.

“But why,” Athena began, “why would anyone want a garden with only brown and dark blue flowers and plants? Mama has the loveliest yellow roses. If one has to be in a garden, I prefer one with colour.”

“Everyone has different taste, Athena.” Aphrodite paused by a bush that looked as if it had died years earlier after having been ravaged by insects and blight.

“Yes, Lady Athena.” Mr. Horne gazed into Athena’s large blue eyes. “My mother loves rare plants and trees that, perhaps, not everyone admires.”

The four of them stood, studying the array of hideous brown growth until the sound of a coach coming up the drive distracted them. They watched as a pair of matched bays—not prime prads but high-bred cattle, nonetheless—pulled a black cabriolet to the front of the mansion. It was a plain carriage, without the adornment of nobility on the door or stripes on the body, but well kept and trim.

“Who can that be?” Aphrodite asked.

“Oh, no,” Terpsi shrieked as a man climbed out of a coach. Eyes wide and breath coming in deep gasps, she turned to Mr. Horne. “Who is that?”

Mr. Horne looked up. “Why, that is my friend Callum McReynolds. Do you know him?”

Aphrodite looked at her older sister. With her hands, Terpsi covered cheeks bleached of all colour, then staggered to a bench and dropped on it.

“Yes, we do,” Aphrodite answered when she realized that Terpsi could not speak. “I believe he and my sister Terpsichore met each other when she came out four years ago.”

“How delightful. Callum is the best of all fellows. I’m happy he’ll know someone here other than Mother and me.”

“I don’t believe he and Terpsi parted as friends,” Athena whispered.

Aphrodite wished she didn’t have to mention this, but it was only fair to warn Frederick. The relationship between Terpsi and Mr. McReynolds had been volatile. It would soon be obvious to everyone in the house party they were not on the best of terms.

As his carriage disappeared around the drive and toward the stables, Callum McReynolds started up the steps, only to be stopped by Mr. Horne’s shout. McReynolds, a stocky man with thick, dark hair who dressed carelessly, his coat hanging from broad shoulders, turned and waved.

“Callum! Come over here. There are some people here I believe you know.”

Aphrodite could see Mr. McReynolds’s broad smile when he saw Frederick and broke into a run.

“Frederick, how good to see you,” he called as he approached. His voice still had the slight Scottish burr she remembered.

Callum stopped and looked at Aphrodite, then at Athena. A haunted look flashed across his face. He swallowed hard and searched the garden area with rapid glances. “Please tell me that your sister is not with you.” He stopped talking when he saw Terpsi on the bench. She was huddled against a trellis, trying to make herself as small as possible, but he saw her nonetheless. After tossing his hat onto an emaciated bush, he covered his eyes with his hand before looking at Terpsi again.

“I’d hoped if I closed my eyes you’d have disappeared by the time I opened them again,” Mr. McReynolds said to Terpsi. “Alas, I was not so fortunate.”

Stunned by his friend’s rudeness, Mr. Horne put his hand on Callum’s shoulder. “Come on, old friend. Certainly you don’t mean that. I want you to meet Lady Aphrodite Herrington and her sisters, Lady Athena and Lady Terpsichore.”

“I know the fair Herrington sisters,” Mr. McReynolds said. “And that one—” He nodded toward the bench. “Yes, that one only too well. How are you, Terpsi?”

“What a surprise to see you, Callum.” Terpsi stood and strolled toward McReynolds, her back straight and her head held regally. “How long has it been? Three years? Four?”

“You witch, you know exactly . . .” He controlled himself with effort. “And your husband? Does he accompany you? I would like to console him on his choice of wives, if your tongue has not killed him yet.”

Terpsi blanched, but she kept her head high. “I am not married. I have found more interesting pursuits than a life of ennui and servitude with one man.”

He bowed. “All mankind thanks you.”

Mr. Horne put a hand on his friend’s arm. “Coming a little strong, Callum. Surely you can be polite to Lady Terpsichore, my guest on this joyous occasion.”

What sounded almost like a growl came from McReynolds, but he turned and thumped his hand on Mr. Horne’s shoulder. “I am happy for you, but I think it would be better if I left.”

“Please don’t do that on my account,” Terpsi said. “People might think you’re running away. You do it so well.”

McReynolds ignored the remark and turned to Aphrodite. “I had been invited to meet a special guest, but I did not know her identity. If you and Frederick are to be betrothed, I wish you both happiness. He is the best friend I have, and you were always pleasant to me.” He turned and looked over his shoulder at Terpsi. “There are those in your family who were not.

“Now, if you will excuse me,” he said to Frederick. “I will go in and wash off my dirt. We will talk later.” With a nod to Athena and Aphrodite, he strode off.

“How interesting,” Aphrodite murmured as Mr. McReynolds disappeared into the house and Terpsi sank again onto a bench. Aphrodite turned toward her sister. “I knew that your relationship was turbulent, but I didn’t realize it had ended so badly that he would be rude to you so many years later. He always seemed most pleasant and unexceptionable.” When Terpsi did not answer, Aphrodite decided this was not the time to discuss the situation.

“Frederick, would you show Athena and me more of your mother’s interesting garden while my sister recovers?”

 

• • •

 

Terpsi watched the three stroll across the dreary garden, pretending to enjoy its sterile plants. Then she turned to watch Callum climb the front steps of the mansion. The sight of those broad shoulders and his muscular body caused her to look away, for just a moment, but it was as if she could not keep her eyes from him, as if they had missed him as much as she had. Goodness knows, they had wept for him often enough. She observed him until he disappeared through the front door, yearning for every covert glimpse of him.

Oh, she had missed him. Why did she still care? Why was she such a fool? She stood and strolled through the barren garden.

Memories overwhelmed Terpsi. Callum was the son of a manufacturer in Scotland and had attended Cambridge. It made sense that he and Mr. Horne knew each other. They had much in common.

Had she been in love with the man? Yes, head over heels! Recklessly so. She’d been willing to give everything up for him, but he had tossed her devotion in her face. Imagine, a middle-class cit had rejected a Herrington. She gave a bark of laughter, but it held no amusement.

How long would he be here? Certainly through the week, unless he could think of an excuse to leave, but she didn’t think he would. Not after her taunt.

She could do nothing. She couldn’t leave. She was, after all, the chaperone for her two younger sisters, yet she wasn’t sure she could be in the same room or the same mansion or the same estate with the man without sobbing or throwing herself at his feet.

What had she just thought? She would never let him know she had cried for him. Wouldn’t he love knowing that? She raised her chin. Terpsichore Herrington had pride.

What right did he have to behave so rudely? It was as if he thought she had done something terrible. Well, if he were going to be rag-mannered, he wouldn’t be the only one.

Terpsichore Herrington could take care of herself. Terpsichore Herrington could stand up to anyone or anything. Terpsichore Herrington did not run from a challenge. She did not refuse a dare.

 

• • •

 

That evening when the guests gathered after dinner, Frederick organized card games for the guests.

“I have set up some small tables for those who would like to play whist or piquet or ecarté. We could not find the Pope Joan board, but there is a large table for some of the younger guests who would like to play Speculation.

With attention-drawing bravura, Terpsi stood and, ignoring the rest of the company, led Hugh Ridley to a table, where they sat and began a noisy game of piquet.

Aphrodite looked around, wondering whom she should join, and saw Athena heading toward Warwick with a glimmer in her eyes and a sway in her walk. With a movement learned over many years of deflecting her siblings from their inappropriate goals, she turned Athena toward the young people who had settled at the large round table to play Speculation. Once the scowling Athena was seated, Aphrodite again considered what she would do.

“Why don’t you join us, Ditie?” Aski asked before he realized who he was supposed to be. “I mean-a, why don’t you join us, pretty English lady?”

“Yes,” Warwick said from behind her. “Why don’t you join the young people, pretty English lady?”

She looked over her shoulder at him. His eyes still laughed at her attempts to treat her disreputable brother as an Italian noble. “Thank you. I believe I will. Do you join us?”

“I believe James wants to play piquet. You will excuse us, pretty English lady?”

The evening passed quickly. Terpsi shouted and laughed loudly to show Callum, who played cribbage with Frederick, that she was wholehearted while Ditie, Athena, and the young people had a thoroughly delightful hour.

And through it all, Aphrodite was aware of Warwick’s amused scrutiny of her and of Callum’s refusal to look in Terpsi’s direction.