Chapter Seventeen

Constance was able to convince her mother that she should place herself well away from the drawing room for the day of the secrets exposed event. The countess would receive any gentleman who cared to call, take his envelope from him, and bring it to Constance in the library.

Now, she stared glumly at the accoutrements of the day—pen and ink, a lit candle, her father's stamp, and sealing wax.

It was both a relief and a disappointment to be closeted away. She had at one time looked upon the event with a certain amount of giddiness—she would be pressed to say something about the gentleman bringing an envelope. She would be pressed to say something about Lord Bramley.

Surely he would come, and she would still be pressed to say something. However, the something that would be said would not be as flattering as it might have been. Or flattering at all.

Lord Bramley had, all along, known of her secret. He'd known of her money. If only he'd said he knew! If he'd said, then she could have weighed the possibility that he was not only interested in the money, but her too. Perhaps he'd begun the acquaintance interested in the money but then had become interested in her. Or perhaps he'd been interested in her and then found out about the money. She might have come down on his side.

But to keep it secret said volumes.

He had not told her the truth. That had been left to some anonymous person who was so disturbed by what they saw happening that they had been prompted to inform her of it.

There was a soft knock on the door and Frederick entered with a letter on a salver. "The countess bids me to inform you, my lady, that Lord Bramley delivers this communication for your perusal and awaits its return."

Constance smiled, though she did not feel like smiling. Frederick was the first footman and took things very seriously. He would be cast down if he imagined his delivery of the letter had been anything less than elegant.

Communication duly delivered, Frederick bowed and exited the room with his usual effort at some sort of aplomb.

The door closed and Constance opened it and read the Duchess of Ralston's instructions.

My dear girl—

If you are reading this note, then some keen gentleman has seen fit to choose you as one of the seven visits he will make today. Here is your task:

Upon considering the totality of the gentleman in question—his looks, his temperament, his manners, and dare I say it, his effect upon you—name what creature this gentleman would be if he were other than a man. As well, please include some explanation for your choice.

Do amuse me if you can. I adore being amused.

If I choose to read aloud your answer, the authoress will not be revealed.

Margaret Ralston

Constance sat back. She was to name Lord Bramley as some sort of animal.

Was he a fox, clever and secretive? Or perhaps a falcon, circling his prey?

No, those two descriptions were too kind to describe what Lord Bramley had been up to. They were too mild to describe what he'd so casually done to her heart.

Her heart had been pierced and poisoned and though Lady Juniper assured her that she would recover, she was not entirely sure she believed it.

Poisoned. Yes. He'd delivered a veritable snake bite.

Constance dipped her pen in ink.

Viper, he knows why.

She waved the paper to dry it out. It was a daring thing to write, but it was a rather small retribution in answer to the damage he'd done. It was time he understood that she was no longer fooled.

Constance melted wax and applied her father's seal to close the letter. She rang the bell and Frederick came in, swept it up with a flourish, and bowed himself out of the room.

It was done. She did not know what Lady Juniper and Miss Semper would write, but she felt she could count on Lady Juniper to be equally scathing.

Constance wished she felt more vindicated than she did.

She felt rather empty.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Matthew found it hard to believe he was late for the Duchess of Ralston's party when he'd fully meant to be early. It was not that he was looking forward to the event, but rather he wished to clear up a few things with Lady Constance.

That was, if he could figure out how to broach the subjects. Both things had come to him through servants' gossip—that Mr. Ludwig had been well received at her house, and that there was some operation called trip-up that was mysterious. How was one to mention gossip gained through one's valet? He did not know, but was hopeful that an opportunity would present itself.

That was the sum total of what he was hopeful about. He had dutifully visited seven ladies with the Duchess of Ralston's letters. Lady Constance, the one lady he'd wished to see, had been hidden away somewhere.

Lady Juniper, who he definitely could have done without seeing, had glared at him. He supposed her pretending to like him had run its course. He also supposed she would write something ghastly about him.

Miss Semper had seemed pained to see him, and she'd taken a deal of time filling in her envelope.

After he'd arrived home, he'd found one of the Duchess of Ralston's footmen waiting for him. The young man collected his seven letters and left with them.

The only letter he had much hope for was the one delivered to Lady Constance. Though, what had been asked and what she had written he did not know.

He'd set off on his horse in good time, but not half the way there, Mercury had thrown a shoe. Matthew had been forced to dismount and walk the horse back to the stables. By the time another was saddled, he was decidedly late.

Finally, he'd arrived. The ballroom was packed with people. He scanned it but could not locate Lady Constance. Not yet, anyway. He would find her, though.

The duchess was helped onto her makeshift stage and the crowd quieted.

"My dear guests," she said, "how wonderful that you are all so loyal in coming to me every year for my little bit of amusement. And, what a bit of amusement we have tonight. One wonders what a certain gentleman has been up to this season."

The duchess' butler handed the lady a stack of papers. Matthew could see Sir Jonathan halfway across the room. He looked rather stricken at the duchess' comment.

Matthew supposed he did too. They all would. What certain gentleman?

He knew all of the men who'd been given envelopes; he could not imagine any of them getting up to any serious mischief with the ladies of the ton.

"First, I will acquaint my dear guests with the task the ladies were given. They were asked to name what sort of animal the gentleman would be if he were other than a man, and to provide some comment on their choice."

Matthew attempted to keep his expression neutral, despite the ghastliness of the idea. He was certain Lady Juniper had named him some unbecoming creature.

"Now, we will start with some of the more flattering answers," the duchess said. She held a paper in front of her. "A certain lady has named Sir Jonathan a lion because he is superior to all men."

There was gentle applause at the idea and Matthew could see Sir Jonathan looking very pleased with himself. As well he might. Lion, indeed.

The duchess went on to read various other sheets of paper—this gentleman was a stag for his quiet strength, that one was an otter, full of jokes, that other one was a stallion for his good looks. So far, the duchess had not named Matthew in any of it, which was beginning to be worrying. She'd started off the evening wondering what a certain gentleman was up to.

Certainly, she could not have meant him. He was not up to anything.

"Alas," the duchess said, "we come to less flattering depictions. I thought I would read them one by one, but as they are all directed at the same gentleman I might as well read them all together. Goodness, Lord Bramley, I shudder to think what you've got up to."

All eyes followed the duchess' gaze to the back of the room.

What had been said about him? He might expect one unflattering submission and he could expect to lay it at Lady Juniper's door. But how many were there?

"We find the following characterizations for our friend just now in the back of the room," the duchess said. "Viper, he knows why. A crocodile—danger beneath friendly looking waters. A magpie, attempting to steal what is not his own. Gracious, Bramley, whatever it is you have done, do take steps to fix it. It is not well to have three ladies ranged against you."

What had he done? He'd done nothing at all.

Three ladies. Of course one was Lady Juniper. Had it included Lady Constance and Miss Semper too? Could this be Operation Trip-Up?

Of course, everyone was staring at him now, wondering what he'd done. They could not wonder as much as he wondered it.

Loudly, he said, "Your Grace, I would happily fix it, if I knew what it was."

As he said it, he began to think that it could only be Lady Juniper's machinations. It had always been unfortunate that Lady Constance chose to be such good friends with the lady. He had not thought, though, that Lady Juniper would go so far as to actively work against him in an underhanded manner.

Had she poisoned Lady Constance's mind? That would account for him being condemned by three ladies—not one, not two, not four, but three. He was certain Miss Semper would go in any direction she was told to. They were a trio. Lady Juniper had informed him at dinner that they were even named—The Stalwarts.

What had Lady Juniper done?

Right from the start, it had been a mistake for his father to scheme to throw Lady Juniper and Miss Semper in front of him. It had been painfully obvious and he supposed both ladies deplored it. But it was not his doing!

"Let us hope then, Lord Bramley," the duchess said from the stage, "that you will shortly be informed of it and can take steps. Everyone, refreshments are in the other room—enjoy."

He would very much like to be informed of it. He would demand to be informed of it.

Footmen opened the doors at both ends of the room and the duchess' guests streamed through them. Matthew stood on his toes to scan the departing crowd.

Then he saw them—the trio. He hurried after them, weaving round people.

The crush in the corridor made it impossible to move any faster than the crowd moved. By the time he made it into the vast room used for refreshments, Lady Constance and her two alleged friends were standing by the duchess' framed pawprint of Intrepid, the cat who sailed on the HMS Endeavor on Cook's first voyage.

The room was nearly as large as the ballroom, and then some of the crowd had gone off to the drawing room. It was easier to make his way there.

"Lady Constance, Lady Juniper, Miss Semper," he said. He bowed reflexively.

Rather than respond to his greeting, they all three just stared back at him. Miss Semper seemed embarrassed, Lady Juniper looked in a fury, and Lady Constance…he was not certain what her state of mind was. She looked shaken.

"Might I inquire if it was the three of you who painted me a viper, crocodile, and magpie?"

He supposed they had not expected he would get right to the point, but he did not know how else to approach it.

"It must be assumed so," Lady Juniper said, "unless there are other ladies in Town that you have wronged."

"Wronged?" Matthew said. "If this is about my father inviting you and Miss Semper on the barge and to dinner, you should be aware that I had nothing to do with it."

"No, you did not," Lady Constance said, "you were busy attempting to reel in a bigger fish."

"A bigger fish? What are you talking about?"

"I am afraid, Lord Bramley," Miss Semper said, "the whole thing has come out."

"What whole thing?" What were they talking about?

"Lord Bramley," Lady Constance said in a cold tone, "the matter has been settled. It would be ungentlemanly to continue to harass us."

"Harass you? I see," Matthew said. "I had no idea my attentions were viewed as harassment."

"Do leave us, Bramley," Lady Juniper said.

"I would hear that from Lady Constance," Matthew said.

"Please do go, there is nothing further to say," Lady Constance said. "Our acquaintance is at an end."

Matthew stood staring at her for a moment. Then he turned on his heel and strode out. He left, rather than do what he really wanted to do—which was dunk Lady Juniper's head in a punch bowl.

He did not know what he was condemned for. He did not even care what Lady Juniper and Miss Semper condemned him for—those two ladies could jump off the Dover cliffs for all he cared about it.

But Lady Constance had firmly condemned him. If he was not mistaken, there had been a real anger in her eyes.

He might never know what had transpired, but he did know one thing—he'd been an utter fool to have raced to Surrey to force the estate into profitability, all to win a lady that despised him.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Constance had been shaken to her core at the secrets exposed party. It had been one thing to name Lord Bramley a viper when she'd been alone in her library, simmering in anger and outrage. It was quite another to hear it read publicly and then have to face him.

She had faced him, though. With the help of her friends on either side of her, she had stayed firm.

After he'd marched off, Lady Juniper had patted her arm and said, "Well done."

Miss Semper had taken a rather large sip of wine and said, "Gracious, that was rather shattering to the nerves."

"That was very hard," Constance said. "When I look at him, I see who I thought he was. As much as I look, I cannot see what that letter revealed about him. Why cannot I see it?"

"I suspect it may take time," Lady Juniper counseled. "One's mind is not very adept at doing a sudden about face. Wait until next season and watch who he chases, I'll wager it will be a lady new to the scene who comes with a large purse. Then, your lucky escape will finally sink in."

Constance nodded. "I suppose so," she said.

"It must be very hard," Miss Semper said. "If I were to discover that the gentleman I prefer was not as he seemed, well, I do not know how I should stand up against it."

As this was the first mention of Miss Semper preferring anybody in particular, both Constance and Lady Juniper said, "Who is it?"

Miss Semper blushed and said in a low voice, "Perhaps he was described as a lion not an hour ago?"

"Sir Jonathan," Lady Juniper said. "I suppose that will be investigation number two for The Stalwarts. We must assure ourselves that his attentions are motivated by his affection and not your money."

Constance said to Miss Semper, "Has he said anything directly to you?"

"Oh, declaring himself, you mean?" Miss Semper said. "I am afraid not. I am hopeful though."

"Then we must discover if he is worthy of your affections, Miss Semper. Lady Constance was nearly deceived and you are perhaps…even easier to deceive."

"Do you think so?" Miss Semper asked.

"I am afraid so, my dear," Lady Juniper said. "But have no fear of it—Lady Constance and I are by your side."

"Indeed, we are," Constance said. "I would not like you to go through what I have been through. I feel like weeping most of the time, and I do weep when I am alone."

Her two friends were very struck by it. Lady Juniper and Miss Semper spent the rest of the evening attempting to cheer her up.

Though their words were comforting, the only moments that made her smile at all were the occasions when a gentleman attempted a run at Lady Juniper or Miss Semper, ever vying for their dowries. Lady Juniper's responses to these hopeful lotharios were always entertaining, while Miss Semper simply stood back and watched.

One was told that any husband of Lady Juniper Croydon's must spend each and every evening reading alongside of her—The Iliad could not be read too many times! There would, of course, be the exception of holy days, in which case they'd spend all waking hours reading the bible.

Another was informed that she had a collection of parrots, one for each room, and had trained them to report on where everybody was—there would be no hiding from a wife!

A third was told that she planned to pay her future husband's valet, coachman, and groom their wages so that she might be kept always informed of her lord's whereabouts.

Lady Juniper was loyal to her viscount at home and Constance did not believe the lady's father had the remotest chance of prevailing against the match. That father would eventually discover that every eligible gentleman in London had been frightened off with terrible stories of their future lives together. A large dowry could not overcome the picture Lady Juniper painted of marital infelicity.

Constance had been exhausted by the time she finally arrived home. It seemed an exhaustion of the mind had caused her body to tire too.

She'd woke up still tired and spent the day tired. She had not the least interest in going anywhere. She would have to, though. This evening was the Join Forces Rout.

According to her mother, those ladies of the ton who were involved in various charities came together once a year to put it on. Unlike a usual rout, there would be bowls set up throughout the rooms, with a description of a charity propped up by them. Guests were meant to bring bags of coins, and then deposit those funds in the charity bowls they favored. A purse full of money had already been sent to her room.

Letty said, "I think you'll want the blue silk with the scalloped sleeves for tonight."

"Does it matter?" Constance said. Really, she did not think it did. Nothing seemed to matter at the moment.

"You're feeling that poorly over Lord Bramley?"

"I suppose so," Constance said. After she'd received the anonymous letter, she'd shown it to her mother and father. They had been alarmed by it, and had agreed with her that she ought to protect herself from him. So had Lady Juniper and Miss Semper. So had her own judgment.

And yet…

"You've saved yourself and the feelings you have now will pass," her maid said.

"So everybody says," Constance said. She thought the sharp feelings that stabbed at her now would soften to a dull ache. She was certain, however, that she would never feel as strongly about a gentleman as she had for Lord Bramley.

In the eventuality of time, she would marry. Of course she would, what else would she do? But that gentleman would never quite measure up. She knew it. She would have to find contentment in other things.

Perhaps she would involve herself in charities as a way to find fulfillment. She would examine what was on offer tonight, as she might as well get started with it.