Page 14 of The Truth about the Marquess (Whispers of the Ton #3)

Chapter Thirteen

T he hope of a response to his letter was so great that Oliver felt almost feverish as he paced up and down his drawing room. In the last sennight, he had taken tea with Lady Keswick and her daughter, Miss Leverton, and now he had just returned from a second walk with Lady Henrietta, though her mother had walked with them, not even so much as a little behind, as he had hoped that she might. Lady Henrietta had been very pleasing in her conversation, and when she had smiled at him there had been warmth there which had also pleased him greatly. They had not spoken of his fortune, of his supposed lack of fortune, at least, and what he had said in that regard had been that he was well-settled and quite contented. This was spoken in the hope that she would understand his meaning, and not believe any rumors of his being impoverished. Likewise, Lady Keswick and her daughter had not asked him anything specific regarding his situation and standing, and though Miss Leverton had smiled and spoken to him in conversation about various other things, she had not been as warm in her manner as Lady Henrietta. That being said, he did find Miss Leverton a little prettier than Lady Henrietta and thus, he now found himself in something of a bind. What was he now to do? Both ladies pleased him, and he appeared to be pleasing to them and thus, their connection could continue – but in what way? Ought he to continue to encourage both connections at the same time, knowing that only one could lead to courtship? Or ought he to decide now which one he would pursue a little more strenuously, in the hope that all would go right? A little uncertain, he had written again to The London Chronicle, sure that he would be given some excellent advice on how to proceed.

Idly, Oliver began to wonder about who the writer was. To his mind, he had no doubt that it was a lady, for the advice given was always so very considered and, he thought, rang with the voice of a gentle but astute lady who knew society well enough to speak of it with great understanding. A lady of the ton , then? But someone who, mayhap, required that employment – for, surely, it would be a paid position, not something that one would do voluntarily.

“Though,” he murmured, still pacing up and down the room, “I must wonder if they are determined to keep their name a secret there, for fear that someone will discover her identity and then tell all of society about it! Is that the reason that the writer remains anonymous?”

A knock came at the door and Oliver practically cried out his encouragement to enter, only for none other than Lord Dunstable to walk through the door, a somewhat bemused expression on his face.

“My friend.” He lifted an eyebrow. “Are you quite all right? You look to be a little… well, I do not know what it is, but there is something about your expression that seems a little unusual.”

Oliver waved him in.

“Brandy?” Seeing his friend nod, he went to pour two measures. “I am waiting for a letter from The London Chronicle. I write too many to be responded to in the newspaper itself, you understand, though I believe that the letter-writer has taken pity on me, for the last reply I received was sent to my solicitors, just as I had requested. I am waiting now for my solicitor’s man to bring me another reply from the lady, should there be one.”

“The lady?” Lord Dunstable looked surprised. “How do you know–”

“Oh, I do not know for certain. I am only surmising. However, I wrote to ask what I must do next, for Lady Henrietta and Miss Leverton are both still in my consideration! Neither has asked me about my fortune, both seem quite content to be in my company. Our conversation was good – though Lady Henrietta’s was better – and I find them both quite lovely, though I confess to being drawn to Miss Leverton a little more in that regard.”

Lord Dunstable chuckled, swirling the brandy in his glass.

“I am glad to hear you say that you have not one, but two ladies whom you are considering,” he said, now grinning ear to ear. “This is a vast change from the last time we spoke at length about such things!”

Oliver laughed.

“Yes, it is, I suppose!”

Another knock came at the door and Oliver called out again quickly, ignoring the way that his friend laughed at him. The butler came in with a letter, just as Oliver had hoped, though behind him then came another guest, someone that Oliver had not expected to see.

“Lady Harsham.” Blinking, Oliver set the letter behind his back and bowed. “Good afternoon.”

“I am sorry to call on you without warning,” she said, smiling a greeting to Lord Dunstable. “I need not stay if you have guests. I do not want to intrude, not in the least bit.”

Oliver spread out one hand towards an empty chair.

“Please, do sit down and join us,” he said as Lord Dunstable nodded. “We were not speaking of anything severe, I assure you, and we would be glad to have your company.” This was spoken with as much warmth as he could put into his voice, and he found that it was true, what he had just said. He was glad to have her with him, was delighted to see her in his townhouse, in fact. His heart seemed to have lifted, his smile was brighter, and he could not remove it from his face, not even if he tried. “Can I call for a tea tray?”

She shook her head.

“I will not stay long.”

“Please.” Oliver smiled as brightly as he could. “We would be glad of your company, I am sure. Please, stay if you would like and I can ring for the tea tray now. Look,” he continued, lifting the letter up, “I am sure that I have another reply from The London Chronicle, for this is my solicitor’s writing. Do you not want to know what is within it?”

This made Lady Harsham laugh, and she spread out her hands.

“I think that you have convinced me, though you do not need to tell me about the letter, if you do not wish to. I understand that you may wish to keep it to yourself.”

Oliver laughed and shook his head, going to ring the bell before breaking open the seal.

“Not in the least! Both you and Lord Dunstable are aware of my ongoing conversation with The London Chronicle, and I have no desire to hide it from you.” Unfolding the letter, he paused as the room fell silent while he read the few lines. Then, he looked up. “You see?” Grinning now, he waved the letter around as though Lord Dunstable and Lady Harsham would somehow be able to distinguish what was written there. “There is wonderful advice given here, just precisely what I needed to hear!”

“And what were you asking?” Lord Dunstable wanted to know, though Lady Harsham remained silent, no doubt too polite to ask. “What help did you seek?”

“It is about the two young ladies I have been pursuing,” Oliver explained, quickly. “Lady Henrietta is one and Miss Leverton the other. I find them both interesting, albeit in different ways and, given that neither of them has asked me about my fortune – or lack thereof – I have been uncertain as to what I ought to do next.”

Lady Harsham’s lips twitched.

“Then you have found the advice helpful, yes? You now know what you must do?”

Oliver nodded, still brandishing the letter.

“Yes, I do. I am to talk openly about my fortune and my struggles to each of them so that they fully understand my situation. I shall see their reaction and the reaction of their father or mother. That will help me a good deal.”

“And if both are as understanding as can be?” Lord Dunstable asked, a small smile on his lips. “What then?”

“Then I shall have to make a decision as to which lady I am drawn to more,” Oliver replied, thinking that the last few lines of the letter were most encouraging. “She – the lady who writes, for I am sure it is a lady – states that I am clearly in earnest and that my heart is very tender indeed. She suggests that I must make certain that whichever lady I choose is worthy of that, though I find myself a little flattered by that.”

Lord Dunstable shrugged, though Lady Harsham’s expression softened.

“I think I quite agree,” she said, so quietly that Oliver barely heard it. When his eyes met hers, Lady Harsham’s widened, as though she had not intended him to hear her speak so. She licked her lips and then smiled, though it did not hold the same gentleness as before. “In speaking of these things, I should tell you that the reason for my calling upon you is… well, I do not want to gossip, but I wanted to speak openly with you about my recent visit from Lady Keswick and her daughter.”

Oliver stood up straight, shock ringing through him.

“They came to speak with you?”

Lady Harsham nodded, a tiny smile at the edge of her mouth.

“Yes, they did, even though we have never been introduced!”

“That is a little unusual.” Oliver glanced at Lord Dunstable, but his eyes were on Lady Harsham. “Was there a purpose in their visit?”

Lady Harsham’s eyes twinkled.

“Oh yes, they wanted to speak to me about you.”

Oliver blinked rapidly, a cold hand settling over his heart for just a moment before the sensation dissipated.

“You know that I spoke well of you, I am sure,” she continued, perhaps seeing his surprise. “It is not as though I would have said anything cruel or untrue.”

“Did… did they speak to you about my fortune?”

Lady Harsham nodded.

“They did, but I made certain to inform them of what I knew, though I did say that I knew very little. However, I reassured the ladies that you were not about to sell your estate to regain any funds and that you were, in fact, a good deal better situated than you had been when you first took on the title.”

A long breath escaped Oliver’s lips.

“I thank you.”

“They also…” Lady Harsham’s voice dropped, and she shook her head, her eyes squeezing closed for a moment. “It is embarrassing for me to even speak of, and I confess that I was utterly astonished to hear this from a lady whom I was not even well acquainted with, but they did ask if there was any sort of connection between you and I.” Scarlet ran through her cheeks, but her eyes opened, and she looked at him directly. “Thereafter, she even went on to ask me about my intentions for the Season, which I found to be utterly astonishing!”

“Goodness.” Oliver rubbed one hand over his face, finding that his own face was hot. “I am sorry that you had to endure such impertinence. I thought that you had already dealt with such things quite enough, only for Lady Keswick to offer you more!”

Much to his relief, however, Lady Harsham did not seem in the least bit upset. Instead, she only shrugged and smiled, shooting a bright look towards Lord Dunstable as the tea tray was finally brought in.

“I am sure that she is only being as careful as she can for the sake of her daughter,” she answered, a little more quietly than before. “The other situation was solely because that lady is who she is in her character. When it comes to Lady Keswick, I am quite certain that it came from a good intention, though spoken poorly.”

Understanding what she meant – and seeing that she did not want to mention Lady Marchfield in front of Lord Dunstable – Oliver nodded.

“I understand.”

“This is Miss Leverton’s mother, yes?” Lord Dunstable ran one hand over his chin, his eyes thoughtful as Oliver nodded again. “I must say, I do think that Miss Leverton is a very quiet creature indeed! I have tried to speak to her before and she barely said a word or two back to me – and even to do that, she seemed to have to make certain that her mother had given her approval to speak!”

“Yes, I know what you mean,” Oliver agreed, as Lady Harsham nodded her understanding. “She did speak a little more to me, but the conversation lacked any sort of warmth.” He shook his head. “Would that I could be in private conversation with her! Then I might be able to ascertain as to whether or not she is truly a very reserved young lady, or if that quietness comes from her mother’s somewhat overbearing presence.”

Lady Harsham smiled, though Oliver did not see any light in her eyes, however.

“I am sure that I could assist you in that regard. Why do you not try to speak with the lady while I engage her mother in conversation? Would that not help?”

“It might.” Oliver shrugged. “Though whether I will need to actually remove her from her mother’s presence before she will talk freely, who can say?”

“It would be worth trying,” Lord Dunstable agreed, “though I have also had a thought. Why do I not hold a masquerade ball?”

Oliver’s heart leaped with a sudden thrill.

“A capital idea! Would that I had thought of it first!”

Lord Dunstable grinned.

“Then by all means, why do you not host the masquerade ball instead?”

Taking no offense at this, Oliver beamed at his friend, nodding fervently.

“I should be glad to!”

“And I would be more than willing to assist you, where necessary,” Lady Harsham said, making Oliver’s heart lift all the more. “And I can inform you as to who Miss Leverton is, if you wish? We ladies have a much easier time identifying one another under the masks than most gentlemen seem to do!”

She giggled as she said this, and Oliver’s heart warmed, delight filling him. He took her in for another moment, seeing the way that her eyes danced, the brightness there and the joy in her expression – and realized that she was beautiful.

“Edenbridge?”

Looking at Lord Dunstable, Oliver cleared his throat, embarrassed to have been caught staring at Lady Harsham.

“Forgive me, I was lost in thought about the masquerade ball. Yes, Lady Harsham, that would be very helpful.”

“And you will invite Lady Henrietta too?”

Oliver nodded, another idea coming to him.

“And,” he continued, a little more quietly, “I might also invite the writer of The London Chronicle.”

For a long moment, no one responded. Lord Dunstable looked interested in the notion, but Lady Harsham’s face had gone a little pale, her lips thin and her eyes wide.

“You do not think it a good idea?” Directing the question at her, Oliver lifted both his shoulders. “I have been wondering who she is. I would simply invite her so that she might not only keep her identity secret, should she wish it, but also as an expression of thanks for what she has done for me thus far.”

Lady Harsham blinked and then looked away.

“I think, Lord Edenbridge, that your thought of consideration is a very good one,” she answered, though her words came slowly. “I suppose I might be concerned that your intention would be for her to reveal herself to you in that regard. And I must assume that someone in the writer’s position would be most intent upon keeping their anonymity in place!”

A tiny smile flickered across Oliver’s face.

“I cannot pretend that there is not a part of me that would like to know the truth, yes, but my intention is not to do such a thing. It would be meant only as gratitude.”

Lady Harsham considered this and then nodded though she did not quite meet his gaze.

“Then I can see no reason for you not to write to the lady,” she replied, though there was still an expression of concern on her face. “Whether she will accept or not, however, is an entirely different matter.”

“I do hope she does,” Oliver answered, as Lady Harsham reached for her teacup. “For I should very much like to offer her my thanks, whether in person or otherwise. I do not think that I would be where I am at present without her advice – I might well be back at my estate, lost in gloom and suffering the doldrums!”

This made laughter break out in the room and Oliver grinned, glad that the mood had lightened. A fluttering excitement grew in his chest, however, as he thought of the masquerade ball. Yes, he would have the chance to speak to Miss Leverton alone, but would he not also have the opportunity to get to know the real letter writer from The London Chronicle? Oliver had to admit to a growing curiosity about her identity, though he was truly grateful for the advice she had given him thus far, no matter who she was. He smiled softly to himself at the thought of meeting her, though quite how he would recognize her at a masquerade ball, he did not know! Somehow, in some way, Oliver considered, he would make certain that she knew just how thankful he was for all that she had done for him, and for the happiness which, he prayed, he might soon find.