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"I UNDERSTAND THE BRITISH government recently purchased Lord Elgin's antiquities," Tessa remarked soon after the carriage wheeled away from the Penwyck town house and headed for the British Museum in Bloomsbury.
"That is correct." Lord Penwyck nodded. "A purchase price was agreed upon following the recommendations of a select House committee. Although the offer was quite generous, Elgin maintains it was not adequate to cover all the expenses he incurred in bringing the treasures to England."
"Are you acquainted with Lord Elgin? I do hope he has recovered from his trying ordeal in France. How dreadful for him to have been arrested and imprisoned!" Tessa said with feeling.
Sitting beside her on the comfortable upholstered bench of the tilbury, Penwyck turned a curious gaze upon his companion. "How on earth did you know Elgin had been arrested?"
Tessa smiled smugly. It quite delighted her that she had surprised him again.
"I hardly think it would have been remarked upon in American newspapers," Penwyck added.
Tessa made no immediate response. Truth was she had only just learned of Lord Elgin's unfortunate incarceration. A poem by Lord Byron, The Curse of Minerva, loudly decried Elgin's methods of procuring the Grecian marbles. The book of poetry had been given to Tessa by one of her more ardent suitors, who had told Tessa about Lord Elgin's misfortune.
"It is not so very difficult to stay abreast of what goes on in England, sir," Tessa replied quietly.
"Well, I daresay you have succeeded better than most."
"Thank you," Tessa murmured. A moment later, she added, "I am quite looking forward to viewing the treasures."
"As am I," Penwyck replied enthusiastically. "I had wished to be appointed to represent the Lords on the appropriation committee, but unfortunately I was not named. In any event, we shall see the marbles today."
Tessa nodded. "Do you suppose they are called marbles because the ruins are made from marble?" she asked thoughtfully.
"Why, yes, I rather expect that is so. We English have so long referred to the antiquities as Lord Elgin's Marbles that I daresay many of us have quite forgot why."
Giving a small chuckle, he withdrew a crisp sheet of paper from an inside coat pocket. "I have drawn up quite a long list of other places we might visit this week, Miss Darby. I trust you will find these equally as edifying as today's excursion."
Tessa smiled sweetly. "How very thoughtful you are, my lord."
"Yes, well." Penwyck cleared his throat before beginning to read from his list. "The Egyptian Hall in Piccadilly is very often entertaining."
"Oh! That is Mr. Bullock's exhibition building, is it not?" Tessa inquired with interest.
Penwyck again turned an incredulous gaze upon her. "You are aware also of William Bullock's extensive travels? You do amaze me, Miss Darby."
Tessa smiled again. "A friend of my mother's, Mrs. Covington, was in London the year the Egyptian Hall opened, and . . . "
"That would have been in eighteen-twelve," Penwyck remarked, his brows pulling together with consternation.
"Yes. Fortunately," Tessa added with a laugh, "Mrs. Covington is English and was visiting her own family, otherwise she might . . . "
"Have found herself in enemy territory," Penwyck supplied, the scowl on his handsome face becoming a wry grin. He was, of course, referring to the fact that in eighteen-twelve England was at war with America. "Have you had occasion to visit your friend's family since you arrived in London?" he asked.
"No." Tessa shook her bonneted curls. "Both Mrs. Covington and her aunt have since passed away. At any rate, she found Mr. Bullock's African curiosities most impressive."
"I understand the collection also includes a number of exotic animals from both North and South America," Penwyck said.
"I look forward to seeing them."
Suddenly, Tessa grew thoughtful. She was enjoying the open-air ride through London and her relaxed conversation with the earl. He looked quite handsome today in a chocolate-brown coat, tan breeches, and forest-green waistcoat. Of all her many suitors, she did, indeed, find him the most enjoyable to be with. However, a moment ago, when the discussion had turned to Mr. Bullock's curiosities, she'd been suddenly reminded of a long-ago incident from her childhood. She had not thought on the painful episode for many years.
It happened long before Mrs. Covington returned to Philadelphia from England to tell the Darby family about seeing Mr. Bullock's exhibit in London. A similar collection of exotics had been put on display in Philadelphia when Tessa had been eight or nine years of age. Tessa had longed to see them and begged her parents to take her. They had agreed but on the day of the proposed trip, her stepfather had flown into a rage at Tessa over some trifling misdeed and refused to allow her to accompany the rest of the family into the city. Instead, he banished her to her room. Tessa had been heartbroken as she tearfully watched the family depart. David had brought her a small toy alligator from the exhibition hall, but not even that had lifted her crushed spirits.
"You have grown exceedingly quiet, Miss Darby." Lord Penwyck remarked in a solicitous tone. "Is something the trouble?"
Tessa had not realized the gentleman was watching her so closely. She drew in an uneven breath. "It is nothing, really. I had just recalled an incident from . . ." her voice trailed off.
At times, it was all she could do not to tell someone of the harsh treatment she had suffered at the hands of her stepfather. For the most part, she managed to keep the painful memories hidden and the hurtful feelings in check. But for some reason lately, she had not been quite so successful. Deirdre had managed to pry a few of those forgotten memories from her, and now with Lord Penwyck being so very kind, so very thoughtful . . . for some reason, she ached to tell him as well. It made no sense, of course, why she would wish him to know what was troubling her. She just did.
"Are you certain nothing is amiss, my dear?" Lord Penwyck's tone was excessively kind. Tessa had never before heard him speak in so gentle a fashion. "If something is troubling you, I would truly like to know what it might be," he added.
Suddenly, Tessa felt hot, stinging tears gather in her eyes. She turned away lest the earl see the unbidden moisture that had welled up and demand she tell him what had overset her.
Apparently she had not turned her face away from him quickly enough. Tessa felt a gentle touch beneath her chin as his gloved finger turned her flushed face forward.
"You are weeping, Miss Darby," the earl said simply.
Tessa bit down hard on her lower lip. More than anything she longed to fling her arms about this kind man's neck, to burrow her head in his powerful shoulder and sob out all her secrets.
How silly she was being. She was in no danger now. Her stepfather was not here in London, and since she meant never to return to America, he would never, ever hurt her again. Yet at odd times, like now, it almost felt as if the ill-treatment were still happening, as if she would never escape unless she told someone who would understand how she felt and who would comfort her. Someone stronger than Senator John Hamilton Darby, someone more powerful than he. Someone like . . . Lord Penwyck.
"Miss Darby," the earl moved a bit on the bench, his body turning toward her a fraction. "I cannot bear to see you so very unhappy. If something has happened, I implore you to tell me at once so I may right the wrong." He paused, his warm brown eyes regarding her with genuine concern. "Has some young man hurt you? Perhaps thrust himself upon . . . "
"No, no!" Tessa cried. "It is nothing." She jerked her chin from his grasp and sniffed away her tears. "Truly, it-it happened a long time ago," she concluded in a small voice. She forced a brave smile to her lips. "I cannot imagine why I chanced to think on it just now. Forgive me. I am fine, truly I am."
Lord Penwyck continued to regard her quite intently. "Very well, then. If you are certain there is nothing I can do." He sat back, although the troubled look remained upon his face. Presently, he drew in a long breath and glanced about. "We are very nearly there."
Tessa looked about, as well. The small tilbury had wheeled onto a pretty tree-lined square. The sun peeking through the leafy treetops cast a dappled pattern on the smooth cobbles below. Just ahead, Tessa spotted a handsome wrought-iron sign with gold letters that read The British Museum. She determined afresh to relax and enjoy the lovely afternoon.
The new museum in Bloomsbury was chock full of interesting books and treasures . . . beautiful oil paintings by such noteworthy English artists as Turner and Constable, others by important German and Flemish artists.
Another long chamber contained an impressive collection of ancient Roman utensils and chipped pottery said to have been unearthed from an excavation site near Petworth in England.
"I understand there is a labyrinth of Roman ruins beneath the present city of Bath," Lord Penwyck told Tessa. "An entire Roman bath was recently discovered in a field near Bignor, complete with a tessellated pavement."
"How utterly fascinating," Tessa murmured, as she bent to study a piece of ancient pavement engraved with beautifully wrought figures in dancing attitudes. "Just think." She smiled up at Lord Penwyck. "When young ladies and gentlemen of today take the waters in Bath, they have no idea they are engaging in the selfsame activity that people did in that very spot over a thousand years ago."
Penwyck grinned. "That is quite true, Miss Darby."
Long before they'd reached the chamber that housed Lord Elgin's display, Penwyck was forced to revise yet another of his initial assessments of the enigmatic Miss Darby. He already thought her far more intelligent than most young ladies he'd met. Now he thought her positively brilliant. Her interests in ancient culture and history equalled, and in some cases surpassed, his own. Her keen observations on various examples of Medieval and Renaissance art revealed a depth of appreciation and understanding that quite impressed him.
"You seem to know a great deal about artists and their various techniques," he remarked, following an interesting comment she'd made about how Botticelli mixed vegetable pigment in with his egg tempera.
"My stepfather's library was quite extensive," she replied somewhat obliquely as they strolled into another picture gallery.
With a grin, she added, "There are art collectors in America, as well, sir. Mr. Jefferson has a quite impressive collection of Renaissance paintings, as well as a great many books on the subject."
Having exhausted the exhibits on the ground floor, the pair climbed a stairwell and entered a chamber containing a vast array of tools, implements, and weaponry used by British soldiers during the time of William the Conqueror.
Penwyck noted Miss Darby seemed especially intrigued by the ancient suits of armor, most of mail, which consisted of interlinking iron rings.
"It looks so very cumbersome and heavy," she remarked, reaching to touch the once shiny metal.
Penwyck grinned. "I expect it was." In a teasing tone, he said, "Would you like me to rig myself out in a suit of it just to see?"
Tessa cast a sidelong look at him. Once she realized he was larking with her, she laughed. Penwyck quite enjoyed the sight of her twinkling blue eyes. Her loveliness did, indeed, take his breath away. He knew she was wearing a new bonnet today, for his mother had proudly shown it to him before taking it up to Miss Darby's bedchamber. Her blue walking gown looked quite becoming on her lithe form, and set off her charming curves to perfection.
Choosing not to check the warm feelings that were stirring within him, in the same spirit of fun, Penwyck pointed to an exhibit of staff weapons . . . a lance, spur, pike, and halberd. "Dressed in my suit of armor, I could fend off enemy attackers with these ferocious weapons and thus insure the safety of our fortress."
Tessa laughed again. "And would that make you my knight in shining armour?" she asked coyly.
Penwyck's dark eyes locked with hers. A moment before her vivid blue gaze fluttered away, he replied softly, "I expect it would."
She moved a few steps away from him. "You have already rescued me once," she said firmly. "Forgive me for not thanking you properly, sir. I was quite relieved to see you last night."
Penwyck stepped closer to her. The museum was thin of company this afternoon, and they were the only two people in this particular chamber. A number of times already this afternoon Penwyck's breath had grown short when he and Miss Darby had been leaning over a glass case together or standing shoulder-to-shoulder gazing at a painting on the wall. In this charged moment of silence, he again felt that same nearly overwhelming urge to gather the lovely Miss Darby into his arms and . . .
In an instant, the moment was shattered when a couple and two giggling youngsters bounded into the room.
Miss Darby stepped past Penwyck, and once the pair were in the corridor she said lightly, "I understand there is an impressive collection of British Royal jewelry in the Tower of London."
"Indeed, there is. In fact, an excursion through the Tower is also on my list of proposed outings. The Royal Regalia is quite impressive. With your extensive knowledge of history and artifacts, I expect you will greatly appreciate the royal treasures."
And Tessa did. The following afternoon, she and Lord Penwyck set out again. The day was not quite as fine as the one before, being somewhat cloudy. But she and her eminent escort were hardly aware of the weather as they strolled through the flagstoned chambers that visitors were allowed to tour in England's most famous fortress, the turreted Tower of London.
In addition to the fabulous Jewel House that contained priceless crowns, circlets, coronets, scepters, rings, bracelets, and jeweled swords, Tessa counted an array of fifteen gold collars from the reign of James I, each set with sparkling diamonds, rubies, emeralds, and pearls.
"I cannot imagine wearing such costly treasures!" she marveled.
"I thought all women coveted fine jewels," Lord Penwyck replied, his tone somewhat bemused.
Tessa cast a guarded look his way, but said nothing.
"I do not recall seeing you wearing very much in the way of jewelry, Miss Darby. Do you not like precious gems?" he asked.
Tessa's lips tightened. Her lack of rings or pretty earrings was yet another source of pain to her. "I like trinkets and baubles as much as the next young lady," she replied softly.
"Well, then, we shall have to find something sparkly for you to wear to next week's gala at the Royal Italian Opera House. It's to be quite an occasion, I understand." Penwyck strolled to the next glass case. "Mother has far more jewelry than she can possibly wear. I am certain she will be most happy to see you wear a trinket or two of it."
Once again, Tessa felt suffused with a wave of conflicting emotion. On the one hand, she wished to blurt out the pain in her heart, but something held her back. She managed to swallow the near-suffocating emotion that had risen within her and, instead, force her thoughts another direction. Lord Penwyck had mentioned the gala to be held next week at the Royal Italian Opera House. It was a momentous occasion, indeed. Everyone of consequence, including the Prince Regent, was expected to attend.
"Do you mean, as well, to attend the gala?" She tried for a light tone.
"Indeed, I do," Penwyck replied, with spirit. "I am quite fond of the opera. I find the music rousing and, at the same time . . . restful."
"Restful?" Tessa parroted. Her spirits lifted as she thought ahead to another entertaining evening spent in Lord Penwyck's agreeable company. He had attended precious few routs lately with Tessa and his mother, and Tessa was quite looking forward to this one. "I do not believe I have ever heard anyone refer to operatic arias as restful."
Her eyes twinkled merrily as she led the way into the next flagstoned chamber. "Are you saying, sir," she probed in a teasing tone, "that your duties as a statesman are so very fatiguing you must attend the opera in order to rest?"
When she glanced coyly over her shoulder at him, the compulsion Lord Penwyck felt to follow her was so strong that had she been leading him to Tower Green, the site of numerous royal beheadings in Henry VIII's time, he'd have gladly followed without once questioning his fate. Miss Darby, did, indeed, have an unsettling effect upon him.
Because his train of thought had been completely derailed by her undeniable allure, he never answered her question. Instead, they began to talk of other things. At length, both grew weary of dankish towers and decided to take tea at a pretty little tearoom Penwyck knew of located next to the fashionable Clarendon Hotel.
Over the next several days, Tessa and Lord Penwyck did, indeed, visit Mr. Bullock's Egyptian Hall, where Tessa was intrigued to view Napoleon's traveling carriage. It had been confiscated at Waterloo and only just purchased by Mr. Bullock to put on display. They visited the Montague House Museum, toured the newest exhibit at the Royal Art Gallery, and went to Exeter 'Change to see the tigers, which Tessa was quite sorry to see were so poorly cared for.
"They look as unhappy as the bears and lions we saw in the Royal Menagerie at the Tower of London," she remarked morosely.
"You cannot rescue every mistreated soul on earth. Miss Darby," Lord Penwyck replied. "The animals have plenty to eat and they are in no danger of being mauled or killed."
"But they are caged!" she pointed out. "One can never be happy when one is not allowed to go and come as one pleases."
"Would you prefer them to be released onto the streets of London, then?"
"No, but to be housed outdoors would be a vast improvement,” she insisted. “Surely, you agree."
Penwyck decided it was time to usher the tenderhearted Miss Darby out of doors. That afternoon, they enjoyed an impromptu picnic on the grass at the Green Park, an event that had definitely not been on Penwyck's list of proposed activities for the day. But when Miss Darby insisted the sunny afternoon was far too lovely to spend indoors and she wished to take tea on a rug in the park, Penwyck wisely relented.
Another afternoon, they, along with Mr. Ashburn, went to see a rousing cricket match. Penwyck was surprised once again when Miss Darby cheered as loudly as anyone. She was, indeed, making mice feet of his list of acceptable behaviours for a young lady. By simply being herself, she was all that was agreeable and charming . . . and undeniably alluring.
One evening, accompanied by Lady Penwyck, they took in a concert given by the Philharmonic Society at the Argyll Rooms in Argyll Street. The following afternoon, they all toured Madame Tussand's waxworks.
Tessa thought their week of outings thoroughly enjoyable. By the end of it, she and Lord Penwyck were talking and laughing with one another like the best of friends.
"This has been the most wonderful week of my life," she enthused as the Penwyck coach wheeled in to Portman Square late one afternoon. "My head is swimming with all we have seen and done."
Penwyck grinned. "I, too, have enjoyed our excursions, Miss Darby. One often becomes so caught up in daily activities one forgets what a wealth of diversions there are to enjoy in London."
It was on the tip of Tessa's tongue to inquire what he planned for them to do next when she caught herself. She knew he had neglected a good deal of his House business this week in order to entertain her. It would be presumptuous of her to expect more from him. Besides, she still had the gala at the Royal Italian Opera House to look forward to.
Lord Penwyck escorted a relaxed and smiling Tessa up the flagway to the house. In the foyer, they were met by a high-spirited Lady Penwyck.
"Tessa darling, you have only just missed Major Lord Spencer. He has been here this age. I am certain he meant to offer for you! He was as nervous and fidgety as the caged lions you saw at the Tower."
"Oh," Tessa murmured. She cast a quick look at Lord Penwyck, but apparently he was not listening.
"The major refused to take tea or eat a bite," Lady Penwyck went on. "He paced before the hearth the entire time. When he was not pacing, he was peering from the window . . . looking for your carriage, make no mistake."
Tessa didn't know what to say. No doubt the major meant to present his suit. He had been quite attentive on several occasions of late, very often directing long, soulful looks at her.
"So." Lord Penwyck spoke at last. Having handed his black beaver hat to a waiting footman, he was now removing his gloves. "Major Lord Spencer, eh? Do you mean to break his heart, Miss Darby, or will he perchance be the lucky one?"
It surprised Tessa to see a slight twitch of amusement playing at Lady Penwyck's lips. Tessa and the earl's mother both looked at him, but suddenly, he again seemed to lose interest in the conversation and began to sift through a pile of letters and papers resting on one corner of the sideboard. An odd pang of something stabbed Tessa. The earl truly did not care whom she favored, did he?
Suddenly, Penwyck said, "Here is a letter for you, Miss Darby. Appears to be from America." He held it up.
"Oh!" Tessa exclaimed, reaching eagerly for the wafer-sealed missive. "I do hope it is from David. I miss my brother fiercely."
Her eyes shining with excitement, Tessa barely glanced at the letter. "Do excuse me. Lady Penwyck. I am most anxious to read my letter!"
"Of course, dear." The older woman smiled.
Tessa hurried up the stairs and into her bedchamber. Flinging her bonnet and reticule onto the bed, she excitedly tore open the seal and unfolded the page.
At once her heart sank.
The letter was not from David.