Chapter 15

 

 

Aphrodite stood at the door of the breakfast parlour. Frederick sat across the table from Warwick, eating a piece of toast. Both men were absorbed in their newspapers.

If she didn’t need to speak to Frederick, if she hadn’t wanted to resolve this quickly, Aphrodite never would have entered the room with Warwick present. Indeed, she wished she could slink away from Windwillow before anyone knew about the broken engagement. She was only too aware of the gossip that would follow, what people would say.

But society knowing and prattling about what had happened was not the worst part. She wished she could leave Windwillow before he knew. She did not believe she could face Warwick if she had to admit that her fiancé did, truly, prefer her younger sister. How embarrassing.

With a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and entered the room. Both men stood. “Good morning,” she said. She placed a muffin on her plate and poured herself a cup of tea, then approached the table.

Warwick nodded a good morning, then sat and returned to his newspaper after Aphrodite settled in a chair next to Frederick.

“How lovely to see you,” Frederick said. “My mother wished to sleep a little longer, so I’m able to join you for breakfast.”

She sipped her tea then spread marmalade onto her muffin. She felt greatly relieved that she didn’t have to face those inquisitive eyes of Warwick’s that interpreted her expressions and actions so well. However, he made his presence known from behind the newspaper that rattled whenever he turned a page. Once or twice, he peered over the top of it, but she ignored him. While the three of them ate, Warwick interrupted the silence to read a few items of interest to which Frederick responded.

When Frederick finished his coffee, Warwick still had not left the table, although, as far as Aphrodite could tell, he’d finished his breakfast even before she entered. Obviously, she and Frederick couldn’t have a private conversation in the breakfast parlour.

As Frederick stood to take his leave, Aphrodite said, “Frederick, I wonder if we could take a walk this morning.”

“That would be delightful.” Frederick motioned for the footman to pour more tea for her. “I must meet with my man of business shortly. If your sister will excuse us from our practice this morning, I’ll meet you at ten in the entrance hall.”

Aphrodite nodded. “Terpsi changed the rehearsal times. Our last one is after nuncheon.” She watched her soon-to-be-no-longer fiancé walk from the breakfast parlour, abandoning her.

Warwick’s raised eyebrow appeared as he lowered the newspaper. With great haste, she patted her mouth with the napkin, dropped it on the table, and stood, hoping to leave before he could speak. She was within an ames-ace of breaking free when she heard him.

“Aah,” he said before she could quite escape.

She turned. “Yes?”

“Oh, nothing. Just noting that you and Frederick are going on a walk. Is there anything special you plan to discuss?”

“The topic of our conversation concerns only Frederick and me.” She spun and started into the hall, when his words again stopped her.

“Of course,” Warwick said. “But I just wondered about—well, you know.”

Curiosity stopped her again. “What did you wonder about?” she said over her shoulder.

“If what you are discussing has anything to do with our conversation of last night.”

“Why would you believe that? Frederick and I have many topics to discuss. Private topics.” She strode down the hall. If she were determined to keep Warwick from knowing the subject of the conversation with Frederick, why was it so difficult not to pause when he spoke? Not to wonder what he had to say? Not to battle with the blasted man?

“I thought, perhaps, it did.” His voice followed her down the hall, but she refused to respond.

Once in her chambers, Aphrodite considered writing a letter to her parents before she remembered, with a groan, that they were here, that very possibly her father planned to meet Frederick that day to decide on the marriage settlements. Well, he could arrange them for Athena.

Instead, she wrote a short letter to her youngest siblings, illustrated with a silly picture of Aski punting around the lake, then read a chapter of Miss Austen’s latest novel. By the time she had pulled on her gloves and tied on a most flattering chip bonnet with ribbons that matched the pale blue of her morning gown, it was ten o’clock.

“How lovely you look,” Frederick said with a smile when he saw her on the stairs. He climbed to the landing and offered his arm.

When Aphrodite placed her hand on his arm, she considered him. What a nice, steady man, she thought. Perfect for Athena. “Did you look in on your mother? Is she feeling better?”

“She’s still feeling a bit out of curl. I believe if she rests all day, by our performance this evening, she’ll be right as a trivet.” Frederick placed his hand over Aphrodite’s.

They strolled to the southwest corner of the house to a bench that overlooked a lovely garden.

“This garden was, the neighbours say, designed by Capability Brown, but my mother had it neatened up a bit when her father bought the estate nearly thirty years ago.”

“Yes, nothing lovelier than an orderly garden. I’m sure if he’d thought about it, Mr. Brown would have done the same.”

The two sat in silence, contemplating the straight, even rows of plants and the brightly whitewashed ruin. Then Aphrodite turned and said, “Frederick?”

He looked at her with a gentle smile. “Aah, yes, what did you wish to talk to me about?”

“What are your feelings for my sister Athena?”

Frederick’s eyes shifted away at her question. He seemed to be studying the buttons on his cuff as if they were precious heirlooms.

“She’s a lovely young woman,” he said after nearly a minute. “A delightful young woman to have in my family, as my wife’s sister.”

“Would you say she’s intelligent?”

“Of course not, but of a sweet, loving nature.”

“You find her of a sweet, loving nature, Frederick?”

He snapped his gaze up at Aphrodite, looking both angry and chagrined. How was it possible to do both? she wondered.

“I don’t know what you mean. She’s your sister, so, of course, I feel a . . .” He paused to search for the word. “A brotherly interest in her.”

“Frederick, be truthful. Do you love Athena? As a man loves a woman?”

“Why would you ask? Have I neglected you?” He took her hand. “I’ve had to spend more time with your sister because of the drama, but I promise to be more attentive.” He stood and helped her to her feet, although she didn’t want to stand. “Now, let’s take a walk through the garden. Please tell me how you feel about the tea roses mother is having planted.”

“Frederick, please. I need to know this: are you in love with my sister?”

“My dear, you must know that I am a man of honour. I will not cry off. After your father and I have met, we’ll announce our engagement as planned, tomorrow evening.”

“And so, you do not love my sister?”

“I have said that.”

“What a bouncer, Frederick.” She leaned toward him. “I’ve seen you look at her and she at you. I believe you care for her, but as an honourable man, will not break our not-yet-settled engagement.”

He looked over her head and said nothing.

“If you do not care for her, you must be aware that she has a tendre for you.”

He didn’t answer, but a smile hovered around his lips.

“You can’t believe I’d marry a man my sister loves? A man who returns her love? What a bumble broth that would make. Frederick, do you love my sister?”

He continued to study something behind Aphrodite, emotions she could not read flitting across his face. Finally, he looked into Aphrodite’s eyes. “Yes, I do, but I don’t wish to hurt you.”

“The only way you could hurt me is not to tell me the truth. I release you and wish you and Athena happy.”

Frederick smiled fully, an expression of such sweetness and joy Aphrodite could have been cast down by his delight over their broken engagement. Although, she reminded herself, she didn’t want to marry him any more than he wished to marry her, it would have been nice had he looked a trifle downcast.

“Then you and I shall not announce our engagement tomorrow. Shall I announce that we are no longer contemplating an engagement?” he asked.

“Oh, please, no. I wish you’d not mention the change in our relationship until we return to London. And, please delay fixing your interest with Athena until then. Such a disclosure would embarrass me, would discomfit everyone here. They would be confused—happy for you and Athena; hearty and bracing toward me. I would not desire that.”

“Of course.” He nodded. “I’d thought you and I would have a very comfortable life together. Imagine my surprise when I fell in love.” He shook his head, then looked at Aphrodite, his face mirroring his wonder. “As pleasant as parts of this are, I’ve discovered love is not at all comfortable.”

“Especially not when one is engaged to marry another woman.” She held Frederick’s gaze and said, “There is one other thing.” She considered her words. “I truly realized that you cared for Athena when you protected her from your mother’s tongue. You never did that for me, Frederick.”

“I apologize.” He did look dismayed and took Aphrodite’s hand. “I hadn’t thought you needed to be defended. My mother is a most loving woman but occasionally expresses herself strongly, and your sister is a delicate flower.” He paused. “Not, of course, that you’re not a delicate flower.”

Aphrodite pulled her hands away from him and held one up to stop the flow of words. “Then, this is the promise you must make to me. You must continue to protect her. That is the only favour I ask. You must never let your mother hurt her.”

“I promise.” He stood and helped her to her feet. “What will you do, Aphrodite?”

“I shan’t wear the willow for you,” she said with spirit. “I believe I shall find enough to keep busy.”

But, as they returned to the house in silence, she felt blue-deviled, oddly so considering she had terminated an engagement neither desired. All very well to flirt with Warwick when safely engaged to Frederick, to enjoy the frisson his glance and touch excited, but she knew better than to expect anything more than a delightful flirtation with Warwick. She couldn’t expect an offer of marriage from him. When he’d avoided the parson’s mousetrap successfully for all these years, the responsible Herrington was hardly the woman to change his mind and heart.

Would she decline into a hatchet-faced ape-leader who took delight in her siblings’ children while she had none of her own? The thought was lowering.

“Do you mind if I talk to the gardener?” Frederick asked when they had reached the steps leading up to the house. “Susannah asked me to make sure that certain plants are ready for this afternoon and evening.”

“Go ahead. I’ll be fine,” she said. A nice man, thoroughly admirable, and he raised not a bit of passion in her.

She should be delighted that she would not have to spend the rest of her life under the thumb of Matilda Horne, but when she contemplated the uncertainty of her future, she was overset. Tears threatened to fall when she entered the front hall.

Then she saw Warwick standing in the entrance hall. Waiting for her? Couldn’t he leave her be? Did he wish to make sport of her plight?

That was not fair. He had almost always been pleasant, but she didn’t want to face him or his questions. She lifted her chin and prepared to do battle.

“How was your conversation?” Warwick asked.

“I don’t understand why you have been so rag-mannered about this,” she answered, more short-tempered than she’d meant to be. “Certainly, I can take a walk with Frederick without having to explain it to you.”

“Certainly, you can. Merely showing interest, in the family, you understand.”

He looked down at her. He was so tall, so broad, she wished she could throw herself on his chest and cry out her vexation, but he would probably push her away and complain that she had ruined the perfect Mail Coach in which he’d tied his neckcloth, and she’d feel like such a looby. No, that wasn’t fair at all. He’d been all consideration for her. She had no right to cut up at him.

“Poor honey,” he said. “Do not forget who stands your friend.”

“Thank you.” Confused at his concern, she dashed for the stairs, then stopped at the first landing and turned to look down at him. He was watching her.

“Do not forget, fair Helena, the last practice is after our nuncheon. We perform tonight.” He bowed, then turned and went out the door.

She trudged up the remainder of the steps. First she knocked on the door of Athena’s room.

“Yes, Ditie?” Athena bit her lip as she opened the door to her sister. She sat on the bench of the dressing table and twisted the tassels of her sleeve between her fingers.

“I’ve broken my engagement with Frederick.”

“Oh, Ditie.” Athena’s face glowed.

“I asked Frederick not to say anything until the house party is over, neither that we aren’t to marry or that you and he may.”

“Oh, Ditie, he does wish to marry me?”

“The two of you need to discuss that, but, pray, not until we return to London.”

When she left the room, Aphrodite thought she might lie down. Breaking an engagement was an exhausting task. A tisane might be nice to take care of the megrim that threatened. But when she arrived at her bedroom, her mother was settled in a chair by the window, embroidering a cover for a fire screen.

“Hello, Mama,” she said as she kissed her on the cheek. “How good to see you. I need to talk to you. I just told Frederick that we do not suit.”

“Oh, my dear, I’m so sorry. We all believed your future was decided.” Hazel wrapped her daughter in her arms. “There is a husband for you, my dear,” her mother comforted her. “You’ll return to London and find a man who’ll make you happier than Frederick.”

With that remark, Aphrodite began to cry, most unlike her, because she had found that man. He was at Windwillow, but he would never ask her to marry him.

 

• • •

 

When Athena and Aphrodite entered the ballroom three hours later, the younger sister danced and frolicked.

“Look, Ditie, isn’t the stage lovely.”

Indeed, it was. Susannah, James, Aski and Hugh Ridley had transformed it into a forest. Well, into as much of a forest as could appear on a small stage built at one end of a ballroom in Essex. Ivy climbed the lattice that served as the backdrop and a large tree Susannah’s children had drawn hung from a chandelier, brushing its roots on the stage.

“And that,” Terpsi said, pointing behind the tree where gauzy fabric hung, “that is the bower of the queen of the fairies.”

Athena froze when she saw Frederick. She looked back at Aphrodite and attempted to hide her joy in seeing him, but her eyes filled with delight, and a soft smile curved her lips.

Frederick also attempted not to show his pleasure at the sight of his beloved, but he couldn’t stop looking at her. He almost fell off the stage before he turned back to arrange a few pots of flowers.

All of which meant the entire house party knew what her sister and Frederick had promised to keep secret. She should have known better.

Next to the stage stood Warwick, again watching the three of them, Athena and Frederick smelling of April and May while she acted as if nothing untoward had happened, as if life were just as usual. She complimented Susannah on the stage, she chattered about the scenery and the costumes. She did everything except look directly at Warwick, although she caught glimpses of his wondering gaze from covert glances out of the corner of her eye.

A puzzled scrutiny, then a quick glance at Aphrodite followed, but Warwick said nothing as he watched the most particular attentions Frederick gave Athena throughout the afternoon, holding her arm, being careful that she did not slip, making sure she had a comfortable place to sit.

The rehearsal moved along quickly, although James insisted on rereading his lines with expansive gestures. Athena still knew only a word or phrase here and there and became confused even when holding her playbook, but Frederick knew all of his lines and hers, and acted almost as if he were translating for her. All in all, it went as well as anyone, even Terpsi, could expect.

 

• • •

 

Warwick wasn’t the only person who noticed the closeness of Athena and Frederick as well as Aphrodite’s detachment. Terpsi watched with interest and intense jealousy. Foolish, helpless little Athena always fell on her feet while fear filled Terpsi, fear she’d never find anyone to love as she loved Callum, fear he’d leave and she’d be alone, fear she’d grow old with Aphrodite, the two of them reminiscing about their salad days, raising ugly little dogs, and growing fat.

She could not lose him.

“Callum!” Terpsi shouted in desperation. He started when he heard her voice and hurried to escape from her proximity.

“Callum,” she said in a softer voice and added, “I worry about our parts in act four. I’d like to go over our lines again.”

“Please don’t rehearse in here,” Susannah said. “The men still have flowers and plants to set up. You’ll be in the way.”

“Then outside, in the garden?” Athena asked.

“I do not know why,” Callum growled. “We know every word well enough.”

“There’s one place I’m not sure about, how I move around you. Please?” Terpsi begged.

Callum nodded, held the door for her, and followed her outside grumbling. “I know every word and movement.”

After they had repeated their lines, perfectly, Callum threw the playbook on a bench and started back toward the house. “I told you we did not need to practice again.”

“Callum!” she shouted but he continued to move away from her.

The play would be tonight, Terpsi reflected. Tomorrow was the ball. The next morning the house party would break up and she’d never see Callum again. Never see Callum again—the words echoed in her mind.

He’d return to Scotland, and she’d go back to London, where endless parties and Venetian breakfasts and routs and balls and evenings at Almack’s and Vauxhall and Astley’s awaited her, but they sounded boring and repetitious because Callum wouldn’t be there. She’d never again see his strong, beloved face or hear his voice with the slight burr or have him look at her, with approbation or with praise, it didn’t matter. She just wanted him to look at her. Hadn’t she been trying to get him to notice her for days? But he wouldn’t even look at her!

“Callum! Please!” she shouted again before he had left the garden, a tremor in her voice.

This time he stopped and glowered at an innocent wisteria that was doing nothing more menacing than putting out tiny green leaves.

“Why did you leave me?” she asked before she could stop herself, before she lost her nerve.

“What?” He turned and looked at her, confused.

“Why did you leave me? Why did you leave me?” she repeated to make sure he understood this time.

“I wasn’t the one who left. Well, perhaps I did, but I didn’t think my absence would be noticed.” Callum studied her, his brow creased. “You’d lost interest in me, not that I could blame you.”

“I’d lost interest in you? However did you come to such a caper-witted conclusion?” Terpsi took a few tentative steps toward Callum. After all, he hadn’t left yet. Perhaps a bit of hope remained.

“When I last saw you, you were flirting with five men. I was the dull fellow watching.” He turned and started up the steps.

“Callum, stop. Please come back.” He paused and turned to look at her. “Didn’t you understand? I did that so you would pay attention to me. I tried to make you jealous so you would come up to scratch.”

He stared at her in disbelief. “You thought I’d make an offer because you were flirting with other men?” He moved to stand only a few feet from her, studying her as if she were bacon- brained. As, perhaps, she was.

“I believed you would be more interested in me if other men found me attractive.”

Callum said nothing but continued to frown.

“It was foolish, I know.” Terpsi sighed and dropped onto a bench. “You should realize by now that is how we Herringtons think. That is why they call us the Mad Herringtons. It worked for Artemis. That’s how she got Sanderson to offer for her. You were so slow that I had to do something. I’d been trying to get you to propose for weeks.”

“Well, you see, I left the hunt for Lady Terpsichore because the other young men had much more to offer. I couldn’t understand what you could possibly want from a dull stick like me.”

Terpsi studied Callum. He looked at her, his body leaned toward her. She knew this was the time for the truth. No more games, no more flirtations and larks. It was time for Terpsichore Melodie Herrington to take a risk.

“I love you,” she said. “I loved you four years ago. I love you now. You broke my heart when you left. Please don’t leave me again.”

Callum’s head jerked up. “You love me?”

“I’ve loved you for years, and I don’t think you’re a dull stick. You’re the most wonderful man in the world. Please don’t leave me again.” Her voice had begun to tremble and she had to blink quickly to keep her tears from flowing.

A smile spread across his beloved features as he moved toward her, lifted her from the bench, and took her in his arms. When he lowered his lips, he did not place a gentle, chaste kiss on hers but gave her a kiss filled with the longing and emotion he had stored up within him. At least, that was how it felt to Terpsi, who returned it with all her yearning and passion.

“My girl, my girl,” he repeated when the kiss was completed to both of their satisfaction. He leaned back to look at her and smiled again. “My girl.”

The words thrilled Terpsi more than the poem Byron had written to her wit or the numerous odes written by an unknown number of young men to her hair and eyes and smile. She cuddled against Callum’s chest and put her arm around his neck, to hold him close to her.

Not that he seemed to desire to move. He held her as closely to him and dropped kisses up and down her exposed neck.

“And so you’ll marry me?” he asked as he nuzzled her ear. “It would be a good idea if we were to marry, quickly.”

“Callum, my love, such haste is unusual for you.”

“My girl, I have waited for four years. I don’t wish to wait a moment longer. I’ll ask your father for your hand this afternoon.” He kissed her again, then pulled away. “Unless that wouldn’t be proper. This house party is for Aphrodite to announce her engagement. Should we wait?”

“No, I don’t want to wait.” She looked up at Callum’s dear face, smiling down at her. “That’s not only because I don’t wish to wait. If you haven’t noticed, this week will not lead to a marriage between Aphrodite and Frederick.”

“I didn’t realize that. You see, I was too busy watching you to notice anyone else.”

“You were? I thought you were busy not watching me.”

“There wasn’t a minute when I didn’t see you, that I didn’t know with whom you were flirting or the level of the necklines on those scandalous gowns you wear.”

“Used to wear,” she corrected.

“Even when I wasn’t in England, I kept up with you. I read every bit of the London newspapers, looking for a hint of you, and I asked my friends for any on dits about you when they went to London, but somehow I missed out on the fact that you would be here or I wouldn’t have come. I wouldn’t have put my heart through that pain another time.”

Terpsi was so pleased with his words, she kissed him again.

“If I kept track of you from Scotland, how could I not notice you and Ridley here?”

“But you never said anything?”

“What did I have to offer you? No more than I did when I left four years ago. You live in London. You like excitement. Why would you love a dull stick like me who lives hundreds of miles from London?”

“I refuse to allow you to say that. You’re not dull. You’re loyal and responsible and kind. All the Herrington sisters are looking for someone stable and loyal and responsible—except Ditie, of course. She hasn’t realized that yet.” She paused. “And, I really do like to kiss you,” she said. With that, Terpsi lifted her lips to him.

“Aah, but you see,” he said after a few minutes, when they had untangled arms and bodies and were sitting on a bench, Callum’s arm around Terpsi’s waist. “But you see, I didn’t know about this passion between us. I knew how I felt, but you didn’t seem bothered by me.”

“A nice young woman isn’t supposed to become bothered.”

“Aah, but, my girl, I didn’t think you were a nice young woman. Now don’t you look shocked. That is much to my liking, for I have a need of a naughty lass like you to brighten my life.”

She again nestled against his chest. “Oh, I am so happy. I knew that I would not marry anyone but you.”

“Certainly you would have. You were meant to have children to love, to be surrounded by your family.”

“But I wanted only your children, Callum. If I couldn’t marry you, I’d have grown into a fubsy-faced termagant.”

“Well, you may yet become a termagant, my love, but never fubsy-faced.” He kissed her again, to remind her that he loved her, sharp tongue and all.

“I must confess something,” Terpsi began after a few delightful moments. “I’ll always love you. I’ll always adore you. But I fear I cannot always obey you.”

Callum laughed until he had to wipe his eyes. “Oh, my girl, I never expected you would. However, if you could make up your mind to obey me occasionally, it would be pleasant.”

“You don’t mind that I won’t be an obedient wife?”

“For four years, my friends and family have pushed docile, submissive young women at me. I could have married a woman who’d obey me and make my life comfortable, but I wanted only you.”

Overwhelmed and left speechless at these words of love, Terpsi lifted her lips for another kiss, which Callum graciously shared.

“But what will you find to do in Edinburgh?” he asked. “It is not London. I fear you’ll find it exceedingly dull. You must understand that I cannot live away from Scotland, where my family and estate and business are.”

“Certainly there are writers around Edinburgh. I have heard Walter Scott lives close to town.”

“Yes, he does.”

“Surely he knows other literary people, so I shall have a great deal to do. I shall begin a literary salon that shall be the envy of London.”

“Oh, my girl, of course you will.”

“And I have the best idea for a novel I’d like to write. It is about a beautiful Jewess and a young nobleman who has been disinherited.”

Then her voice was stilled by Callum’s lips.