Thirteen

There was such a smug, well-satisfied air about Lady Ormstead when she returned to her rented house in Upper Grosvenor Street that the footman commented on it to Mr. Nestor. “’Erself is a delight this noon, and ’ere’s me be’en worrying that she would be letting me go for my failure to give the gentleman the message this morning. Wonders will never cease, will they, Mr. Nestor?”

The butler gave him a frosty look before replying. “If it’s Lady Ormstead you is referring to, then kindly say so, lad. I don’t know really what the agency was a-thinking of, sending you ’ere as an experienced footman. I, myself, ’ave never encountered such unfamiliarity as to ’ow to comport oneself about one’s duties as you display.” He sniffed haughtily in what he considered his most superior manner, but the footman seemed quite unabashed.

“Aw, come off it, Mr. Nestor. You know the agency ’ad no one else to send ’ere. It must be seven poor souls like me that ’erself, begging your pardon, Lady Ormstead, has gobbled up this Season, and I only undertook the position to get experience. For I am going to be a gentleman’s gentleman one day.” He grinned impishly at the impassive face of his mentor.

“Then you ’ad better learn ’ow to behave in the presence of one,” Mr. Nestor answered scathingly, “and make sure that you deliver the correct message to that Lord Umber when ’e calls again.” His homily was interrupted by the sound of Lady Ormstead’s bell, and without more ado he moved away to answer the summons.

“You rang, my lady?” he inquired grandly when he finally reached Lady Ormstead’s sitting room.

“Yes, Nestor. I have changed my mind about not seeing Lord Umber this afternoon. So when he calls kindly see to it that he is shown into the brown room.”

“If you don’t mind me mentioning it, your Ladyship, the fire smokes something terrible in that room. Perhaps I could suggest the library.” He coughed deprecatingly.

“No. No, Nestor. Just do as I tell you. He won’t stay long enough to worry about a few plumes of smoke.” Her eyes glistened with suppressed excitement. “And there is no need for you to stay in the vicinity.”

“I beg your pardon, madam?”

“Eavesdropping, Nestor, eavesdropping.”

“Madam!” the butler exclaimed in outraged tones. “I ’ave never been guilty of such an atrocious act in all my life.”

“Good, good,” Lady Ormstead said unpleasantly. “Just insure you don’t change your habits today.”

“Is that all, then, madam?” he inquired stiffly, checking his anger with difficulty at her vulgarity. All his sensibilities were offended by her suggestion.

Lady Ormstead dismissed him with a wave and an order to send Wendy to her, before sitting back to contemplate the upcoming interview. “I do believe I have done it,” she said to herself gleefully. “This time, I think I have succeeded, and now no one need ever know that Richard and Arabella had a daughter.” She let out a mad cackle which shook her voluminous body like a partly set jelly. “Mama, Mama, are you all right?”

The anxious voice of her daughter brought Lady Ormstead out of her daydream abruptly. “What is it, child?” she asked sharply. “How many times do I have to tell you not to creep up on me? You know any sudden movement is bad for my heart. Really, Wendy, you are so thoughtless.”

Wendy stood to one side, biting nervously on her lower lip. ’I’m sorry, Mama,” she whined. “But Nestor said you wanted to see me.”

Lady Ormstead eyed her daughter keenly before turning her gaze in the direction of the window. It really was too provoking that she had been blessed with such an obese daughter. Absolutely nothing could be done to disguise those pimples which covered her face. As for the child’s figure, no amount of lacing would produce the small waistline that was so fashionable. And to crown it all, they had not received a single invitation that amounted to anything. The outrage of seeing Felicia, whom she had thought to be out of sight for ever, perched happily between Lord Umber and his dowager mother, was too much to bear with comfort. Why, Wendy had not met a single eligible male, and the only offer had come from their neighbor, Mr. Brown, who was old enough to be a grandfather. She muttered under her breath savagely. “It would serve her right if I accept.”

“I beg your pardon, Mama? I…I didn’t hear.”

“Don’t interrupt, Wendy. Do sit down and stop fidgeting, and smooth your dress, you look an absolute fright.” “Yes, Mama. I’m sorry, Mama,” Wendy whined as she obeyed.

“I want you to know that you have received your first offer, and I am at this very moment considering whether to accept it.”

“Yes, Mama,” Wendy said dully.

“Do you not want to know who has honored you so? Really, you are an exasperating child. Nothing, it seems, interests you except cream buns and bon bons. Mr. Brown is most anxious to take you off my hands.”

“Mr. Brown, Mama!” Wendy exclaimed in agitation. “How…how could he? He doesn’t even know me except to say ‘good morning.’ Why, I have never given him the slightest encouragement. Please, Mama, I couldn’t possibly. He’s…he’s…far too old, and besides, he’s deaf.”

“I haven’t given him my answer yet, Wendy, so don’t be in such a taking. Although the way you behave at the dances I take you to does not lend much encouragement to any of the younger men. You are a wallflower, my dear,” she said spitefully, “and a wilting one at that”

“But, Mama,” Wendy snivelled. “It’s not my fault. If only you could find me a maid like Felicia. I know I would look better, but…but, the one we have now is worse than Sadie. No one is able to dress my hair like Felicia. No one. Why did you have to send her away?”

“Who?” Lady Ormstead said in a dangerously quiet voice. “Whom are you talking about? Have I not forbidden you ever to mention that name in my presence? Have I not ordered you to forget that she ever existed? I will not be disobeyed, Wendy. Now, go to your room and remain there for the rest of the day. And, if you continue to disregard my wishes, I will accept Mr. Brown’s offer and let him drum some sense into you.”

A storm of tears shook Wendy, and soon she was sobbing hysterically. “Please, Mama,” she begged. “Please don’t do that. And I am sorry to have disobeyed you. I promise it won’t happen again. Only, please, please don’t say yes to Mr. Brown.”

“Go to your room immediately,” Lady Ormstead said irritably. “I have had enough of your tantrums. Spend the rest of the day contemplating the trouble you have caused me, and maybe by tomorrow I will feel more inclined to forgive you.”

Wendy fled, crying uncontrollably, leaving her mother looking at the closed door with a pleased expression on her face. Now, she could rest easy, for her interview with Lord Umber would not be interrupted. She knew that Wendy would not dare to come downstairs for the rest of the day.

*

The peace and quiet of White’s had done much to restore Lord Umber’s humor, and he had just finished reading the morning papers when he felt someone tapping his shoulder. He looked round and saw, to his surprise, that Dr. Ross was standing behind him. Rising quickly, he followed him out of the reading room.

“Paul, my dear fellow, to what do I owe this honor? I have never seen you out of your place before late afternoon.”

Dr. Ross smiled. “I was hoping you would invite me to join you for a spot of lunch. And I do leave my offices, you know, on occasion.”

“Luncheon? What a splendid idea. Excuse me while I organize a table.” He clicked his fingers at a passing waiter and said something quietly. He nodded at the reply and turned back to Dr. Ross. “Follow me, Paul. It appears we can be accommodated immediately.”

Neither man spoke as they were ushered into the high-domed dining room and led to a solitary table in the far corner. Only after they had ordered did Dr. Ross break the companionable silence.

“Ian, I know it is presumptuous of me, but I beg your understanding and indulgence.”

“Whatever for, Paul. Surely we have known each other too long to be so formal. Whatever is bothering you so?” Dr. Ross hesitated for a moment. “I…I want to talk to you about Miss Richards.”

“Aha! Your favorite patient. Why the serious air?” Even though he tried to be casual, a note of resignation crept into his voice. It seemed everyone was conspiring to make it more difficult than he had anticipated to forget about Felicia.

“We had, at least from my point of view, a very good session this morning, in that Miss Richards remembered everything. She knows who she is, who her parents were and, more importantly, who Lady Ormstead is.” Dr. Ross sat back in his chair, wondering what it was that had prompted him to interfere and which was the best way to proceed now. The withdrawn expression on Lord Umber’s face indicated that his friend might well be relieved by Felicia’s decision to leave Lady Louisa’s household. “The result is that she has decided to seek gainful employment elsewhere.”

“I see,” Lord Umber said thoughtfully, wondering why this information displeased him. “She is quite determined this time, I suppose?”

Dr. Ross nodded. “My concern, of course, is for your mother, but Miss Richards feels that she cannot accept her charity indefinitely, even though she has grown extremely fond of Lady Louisa….”

“What prompted this decision, Paul?” Lord Umber broke in impatiently. “Something that happened in her past that makes her an unfit companion? Was I right, all along, about her true profession?” He suppressed a bitterness he suddenly felt with difficulty.

“No, indeed not, Ian. As far as I know she has impeccable credentials. But you must have observed how independent she is. It is this spirit of independence that is prompting her to make her own way in the world. In fact, the only reason I mention any of this is that I want your assurances you will not make her leaving any more difficult than it is going to be.”

There was a hidden meaning to the words that Lord Umber was astute enough to recognize, but not clairvoyant enough to understand. His only reaction was to raise an eyebrow as though in query. “Whatever do you mean by that, Paul? I can hardly chain her to my mother’s side, can I? If Miss Richards is really of a mind to leave, then I shall do my utmost to aid her. And by that, I mean I shall insure mama does not go to any great lengths to prevent Miss Richards from doing as she wants.” As he was speaking, his one hand was unconsciously stroking his cravat, which was the only sign to Dr. Ross’s trained eye that something was bothering him. But Dr. Ross was wise enough to know that he would have to content himself with these assurances. It would serve no useful purpose to probe Lord Umber’s feelings on the subject. “Good. Then I can put my concern aside for both my patients and do justice to this meal.”

Lord Umber watched his friend for a few moments while he struggled to appear calm. His earlier resolution of getting on with his own life suddenly seemed hollow as the knowledge that he would never see Felicia again penetrated. What nonsense had gotten into her that made her so independent? For someone as intelligent as he knew her to be, she was quite senseless at times.

“As a matter of curiosity, Paul, who is Lady Ormstead? I called on her this morning but was refused admittance.” Dr. Ross wavered for a second before answering. “Lady Ormstead is an aunt of Miss Richards, I believe. They are not very close.”

Lord Umber thought back to last night at the theater. “Judging from her behavior towards Miss Richards last night, I am inclined to believe you.” Again he appeared casual, but his senses were alert. Something was not quite right about the story that Dr. Ross was telling him. “I had intended calling on her again, but if you say that Miss Richards’ memory has returned, then I will gladly forfeit that dubious pleasure. Do you agree?”

“Absolutely, Ian. Another attempt seems quite unnecessary now. Also, I am sure Miss Richards would prefer that you didn’t.”

The response was too quick, but Lord Umber let it go. There seemed little point in pursuing something his friend quite obviously did not want to discuss. “If you say so, Paul,” he said smoothly, while vowing to himself to keep the appointment. Was there indeed something in Miss Richards’ background that needed burying? “What of this trip to Manchester, Paul? What explanation did Miss Richards have for that?”

“A fairly simple one, actually. She had the wrong address. When I confronted her with that, she was not at all perturbed, for it appears she has relatives there and would not have experienced any difficulty. Certainly none of the nature Lady Louisa envisaged,” Dr. Ross lied and was astonished that he should have done so. But as Ian seemed satisfied with his explanation, he felt well justified. All he had to remember now was to tell Felicia not to contradict his story.

“So all our concern was for naught, eh? What a bunch of worry warts we have been.” He raised his wine goblet in a toast. “Here’s to you, Paul, and for the remarkable success you have achieved. May Anton Mesmer be equally delighted.”

“Thank you, Ian. Thank you. I must confess to a great feeling of elation, for there were many times when I doubted my ability to break through that barrier. There were two main clues that helped….”

Lord Umber sat still, giving every outward appearance that his full attention was with his friend. In truth, though, he was thinking of Felicia and the extraordinary behavior of Dr. Ross. There was something highly suspicious about the whole affair. Not that he doubted the part about Felicia’s memory returning. It was just a feeling he had, but nothing he could put his finger on. However, there was no denying the fact that Paul was bent on protecting her. What from, he could not fathom. But surely that was his prerogative. Surprised at the intensity of his feelings, he tried to channel his thoughts away from Felicia. Impatiently he took out his fob watch and saw that it lacked but forty minutes to three. “I hate to interrupt your dissertation, Paul,” he said hastily, “but I have a previous engagement. Please excuse me.”

“My dear Ian, I have been finished these last five minutes,” Dr. Ross laughed. “We have been sitting in silence ever since.”

Lord Umber had the grace to look sheepish. “Do excuse my apparent rudeness, it was not intended. I…I was planning a diversion for my mother to help her over Miss Richards’ departure.”

“I understand,” Dr. Ross said gently. “And please call on me if I can help.” He stood up and strolled out of the room, waving casually to a few acquaintances.

Lord Umber followed and, calling for his carriage, was soon on his way to Upper Grosvenor Street.

It was quite apparent that his second visit to Lady Ormstead’s was going to be more successful. For no sooner had his carriage come to rest outside the house, than the front door swung open and an immaculately dressed footman made his appearance. Lord Umber was hard put to recognize the lackey from his earlier visit, such was the change in that poor unfortunate’s countenance.

“I see I am expected,” he drawled, deliberately stating the obvious. He tossed his hat and gloves into the outstretched hands.

Mr. Nestor stepped forward from a darkened recess, lending a surprisingly dignified atmosphere to the shabby interior, before any further exchange could take place. “This way, your lordship,” he intoned heavily. “Lady Ormstead will be with you momentarily.”

Concealing his distaste at the drab room he was shown to, Lord Umber walked over to the smoking fire and idly kicked at the sullen embers. The door, badly in need of an oiling, creaked to a close behind the butler, and he was left alone. “In many ways it is my own fault,” he mused. “If I had heeded Paul’s advice, I would be in much more comfortable surroundings.” He looked around the room with disdain. The cheap furnishings, the threadbare carpet, and the peeling paint denoted ‘genteel’ poverty and probably indicated that Lady Ormstead clung to the fringes of Society by a hair’s-breadth. She might be more successful if she were more pleasant, he thought savagely. He crossed to the windows and stared out at a row of red brick houses, grimacing at the view. It was difficult to imagine Felicia in these surroundings. Tantamount to caging an exotic bird. But if what Paul had said was true, she was not very close to this aunt. However, he thought triumphantly, that did not mean she had not made her home here, for had not David said he remembered a Mrs. Richards had been in attendance when he had visited Lady Ormstead? He frowned at this recollection, wondering again why Paul had been so evasive at lunch. Protecting his patient’s confidence, no doubt. Nonetheless, it was provoking, and he should have guessed sooner that Felicia was behind it. Now why should she want her past kept a secret? What shameful act had she committed? He felt a momentary pleasure as he imagined the worst before rejecting the thought. No, she was incapable of doing anything so monumentally distasteful, he assured himself. The reason she wanted to seek employment elsewhere must have been caused by something her parents had done.

Her image flashed in front of him and he felt an odd choking sensation constrict his heart. Confound the girl, would he ever forget her?

His musings were rudely interrupted at that point, as the creaking door announced the arrival of Lady Ormstead. She bustled into the room, smiling grandly. “I do beg your pardon, Lord Umber, for keeping you waiting. Pray be seated.” She indicated a most uncomfortable-looking chair right beside the smoking fire, while she herself took what had to be the only commodious seat in the room.

Lord Umber glanced at the clock on the mantelshelf and saw with surprise that he had been kept waiting fifteen minutes. He turned a bored look on his hostess. “Thank you, but no. I do not intend making this a long visit.” He arched one eyebrow as he spoke, unconsciously presenting a formidable appearance. “I merely came to enquire about Miss Richards. Your niece, I believe?”

Lady Ormstead stared at him in fascination. His immaculate dress gave him an indefinable air that was almost intimidating. It was only her secret knowledge of Felicia’s whereabouts that bolstered her spirit. “What has my niece been doing now, pray? Not, I hope, causing more embarrassment for my family.” There was a long-suffering edge to her voice, as though she were trying to convey to her audience how ill-used she had been.

“Your niece, ma’am, was injured in an accident which caused the loss of her memory for a short period.”

“How inconvenient,” Lady Ormstead murmured unsympathetically. “She is recovered, I take it?”

Lord Umber noted the nervous way this question was asked and replied grimly. “Totally. You do not seem overly concerned that your niece was injured.”

“And I do not see that that is any concern of yours,” Lady Ormstead snapped, wondering how this gentleman had met Felicia and just what he knew. Far better to attack than defend, she thought as she continued briskly. “I will say one thing, though, and that is her ingratitude at the hospitality I showed her—and her mother—seems to have been well rewarded. I have not seen her since she ran away several weeks ago.”

“Until last night,” Lord Umber reminded her.

“Or someone who bore a resemblance, my lord. One thing I know for a certainty, my niece never owned such finery as that girl wore. And if that was she, it can only mean that she did not come by it honestly.”

Lord Umber looked away in disgust at the implication of her words but did not yield to the temptation of telling her the truth.

“One thing you may be sure of, Lord Umber,” Lady Ormstead continued maliciously, “I will never recognize her again. And should she try and worm her way back into my household, I will personally see to it that she is put back out on the streets—for that is where she belongs. And why a fine young gentleman like yourself should be bothering about such a good-for-nothing girl as Felicia, I’ll never know.”

The raw-edged bitterness of her voice puzzled Lord Umber. He had not said anything to provoke such an outburst, and yet this crazed woman had made it quite clear that she regarded Felicia as little more than a slut. “’Tis no more than a kindness I would show any stray animal,” he replied suavely. “However, I shall not take up any more of your time, for the purpose of my visit was to enquire about Miss Richards’ relatives and possibly restore her to them.”

A relieved look tinged Lady Ormstead’s plump features as the realization came to her that Felicia had not spoken of the five years spent at Graystones. She suppressed a satisfied grin with difficulty. “I’ll bid you good day then, my lord. I am sorry your journey has been for naught, but I do not expect that Felicia will ever come here again, begging for help. Especially after what she did before she ran off.”

Malicious as well as stupid, Lord Umber thought disdainfully. Does she not realize that her disinterest in the whereabouts of Felicia strikes me as suspicious? That her determination to smear Felicia’s name makes me mistrust her even more. He drew himself up to his full height, looking down on her with contempt. “I will personally insure that Miss Richards does not bother you again, for it is quite obvious that she is better off where she is.” So saying, he took out a delicate, blue enamel snuff box from his vest pocket and opened it expertly with one hand. He took a small pinch and inhaled it deeply. His gaze, however, did not waver from Lady Ormstead’s face so he did not miss the exultant look that lit her eyes. Now, what the devil can have caused that? he asked himself uneasily. She was altogether too complacent. Had Felicia already been to see her to ask for help?

Impatiently he started for the door, for he wanted to check for himself that Felicia was safely at home with his mother. “I will see myself out, ma’am. Good day.” He snapped the noisy door shut behind him and waited while the footman fetched his hat and gloves. Impulsively, he pulled a coin out of his pocket and pressed it into the lackey’s hand. “Has a Miss Richards visited with Lady Ormstead today?” he asked casually.

“No…no…me lord. You’re the only bit of gentry that ’as called.”

“Do you know if Miss Richards has ever been here?” he pressed.

“No…not that I can recall,” the footman answered, wrinkling up his nose in concentration. “No. That name is not one I’ve ’eard afore.”

“I see. Thank you.” Lord Umber stepped out of the house with a sigh of relief and ordered his coachman to spring the horses to his mother’s house. He felt something was wrong and needed to seek reassurance that Felicia was well.

After his departure, Lady Ormstead sat for several minutes laughing to herself. “Oh! yes, my fine young dandy. Felicia is far better off where she is. Far better off. And don’t think you can come back again and bamboozle me into telling you anything more. Ha! Ha! No one is ever going to find you now, Felicia. No one.” She stood up abruptly and rang the bell several times.

After what seemed to her an interminable wait, Mr. Nestor appeared. “You rang, your ladyship?”

“Several times, Nestor.” She paced the room as she spoke. “I want you to insure that Lord Umber is never admitted again, if he should call. Is that clear?”

“Perfectly, your ladyship.”

“Good. I will hold you responsible if my order is disobeyed. I shall be in my sitting room if Mr. Brown calls. Kindly show him there when he arrives.” Without waiting for an answer she left the room, leaving in her wake an echo of triumphant laughter.