Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Dorian nearly chuckled as he observed Lenora’s astonishment at the easy way he addressed the young gentleman.

“Good to see you, Reuben,” he said. “How are you finding Bath this season?”

Reuben, Lord Whitchurch, smiled. “Amiable and flattering. I am not sure when so many lovely young ladies last approached me.”

Dorian laughed. “There was a double wedding only a few days ago. It has all the single ladies and their mamas focused on matrimony. Or perhaps it is simply something in the water.”

Reuben shook his head, indicating disbelief. “I think matrimony is often on the feminine mind. Who is this young lady you have brought to my attention?”

Dorian smiled as if only just then reminded that Lenora stood by his side. “This is my childhood friend and neighbour. Her father is Sir Francis Temple, the author and historian.”

“Ah, yes,” Reuben said, acknowledging Lenora with an absolutely correct shallow bow. “I have read his last book. Very clever, very astute, and yet phrased so as to bring no offence to anyone.”

Lenora curtsied, apparently momentarily speechless. Not only was this handsome fellow clearly well-known to Dorian, but he also seemed to be well-read, if not impressed by her father’s book. Dorian was amused to see her struck silent since she was usually a chatterbox.

“How is the hospital, Dorian?” Reuben asked. “Is your uncle planning to take the waters this season?”

“He has sent a communication indicating that he and his daughter, Emma, will be in Bath shortly, if they are not already here. I believe he has some business at the hospital,” Dorian said.

“It must be handy to have a hospital so near the healing spring. Are you here to take the waters, Miss Temple?” Reuben asked politely.

“Sadly, no,” she said. “My twin sisters were married a few days ago. My family and I are here because Mother would have been devastated not to attend the wedding. We’ve stayed on in the hope that the atmosphere will be healing for my father. He went about in the rain, reading tombstones and the like, and caught a miserable chill that he does not seem to be able to throw off.”

Dorian felt a twinge of jealousy at the look of infatuation on Lenora’s face, even though he understood her earlier comment about feeling guilty at having put off matrimony for so long. Nonetheless, despite the many hours they had spent together, he could not recall that she had ever looked at him in quite that way.

“It is good to see you, Reuben,” Dorian said. “But what brings you to these parts?”

“Oh, like everyone else, I am here for the waters,” Reuben said, avoiding the question.

His reply did not seem perfectly sincere to Dorian, but he could not quite put his finger on why. Annoyed with both Lenora and Reuben, he said, “I must find my houseguest, Charles. Will you help me locate him, Lenora?”

“Of course,” Lenora replied, although her face betrayed her disappointment that they were not going to linger longer in Reuben’s company.

In a few minutes, they discovered Charles and Iris seated at a small table. Iris’s father was lounging at a table not far away, reading a paper while having tea. Charles was scribbling notes on a small tablet made of papers stitched together.

“I’ve made up my mind,” Charles announced. “I’m going to write a play about life in Bath.”

“I’m sure it will be fascinating,” Dorian said, somewhat acidly. “Life is so eventful here.”

Charles waved him off with one hand, going back to his scribbling.

Irked at his friend’s response, Dorian turned to Lenora. “May I walk you over to your mother? It is growing late, and I have several things to which I should attend.”

“I suppose,” Lenora said, with a marked lack of enthusiasm.

As they strolled around the outer edge of the room, they were soon far enough away from the other people for something resembling a private conversation. She turned to Dorian, clutching his arm. “You know him! You didn’t tell me, you spiteful thing! How is it that you are on a first-name basis?”

“It is no big thing,” Dorian explained. “He is acquainted with my uncle. We move in the same social circles.”

“How fortunate!” Lenora exclaimed. “You must help me become better acquainted. He is the perfect catch — handsome, well-spoken, and rich. I am certain that if I can fix his attention, my parents will be extremely pleased.”

Dorian felt unsettled by the prospect, and he was not quite sure why. Certainly, he had no hold on Lenora, even though they had grown up together and frequently attended the same social gatherings. Yet it made his stomach churn to think of her with Reuben. “I will do what I can, but you know every gentleman makes up his own mind.”

“Of course, I know that,” Lenora returned. “But I am sure that if we encounter each other often, that custom will prevail.”

Dorian, still feeling mildly disgruntled, handed Lenora over to her mother. He then turned back to seek out his guest. He found him still scribbling, with Iris sitting at the table looking very much at a loss, caught as she was between two uncommunicative gentlemen. Her father had also begun taking notes in a small, leather-bound book.

“How are you, Iris?” Dorian asked. It felt inane … had he not greeted her earlier?

But he could not think what to say as he watched Reuben go over to Lenora and her mother. A little demon of jealousy seemed to be doing a tap-dance on his heart. He was aware that Iris had made a reply, but he scarcely knew what it might have been.

Reuben led Lenora out on the dance floor, moving gracefully like some great hunting cat. Dorian was nearly tempted to run after them, to tap on his shoulder and request the dance in his stead.

Then he realized just how inappropriate such action would be. His uncle, Jonathan, entered the Pump Room with his daughter, Emma, on his arm.

Emma was pretty in a frail, washed-out sort of way. She walked listlessly beside her father. Dorian could not help comparing her pale, polite demeanour with Lenora’s bright vivacity.

Dorian knew that he must acknowledge them, so he said to Iris, “Please, excuse me. There is my uncle, and I must go wait upon him.”

“Of course,” Iris said, her face showing plainly that she thought he was deserting her.

Dorian moved towards his uncle, who turned a beaming smile in his direction.

“Dorian! My dear boy, how good to see you!” Jonathan Holt boomed, letting the entire room know that they were family.

“I am pleased to see you, as well, Uncle,” Dorian said. “You are looking lovely, Emma,” he added since a compliment was expected.

She cast her eyes down, displaying her long eyelashes. They were so pale as to be scarcely visible against her perfect peaches and cream skin. “Thank you,” she said. “I am pleased that you think so.”

***

Lenora

Lenora was quite giddy from the brief attention Lord Whitchurch had paid to her. She could imagine their wedding and perhaps a bevy of fat babies to follow.

“Isn’t he perfect?” she gushed to her mother as they walked back to Aldham Park. “He is so handsome, so well-spoken, and he dances divinely. His reputation is stellar, and he is rich besides! I can quite imagine what it might be like to be courted by him.”

Marie-Belle sighed. “Oh, Lenora! There is no need to rush things. The ink is scarcely dry on your sisters’ wedding lines. I had hopes of having you at home a little while longer. Besides, you should be wary of a gentleman who seems too perfect. I found your father so, at one time.”

Lenora wrinkled up her nose at her mother, feeling confused. “I don’t understand. What does your regard for my father have to do with anything?”

Her mother just shook her head. “I’ve probably said too much. Please, just take my word for it. A gentleman who is much in demand is not necessarily a perfect husband. Look around a little more, daughter of mine. Lord Whitchurch is not the only available bachelor this season.”

Lenora stopped listening to her mother. She saw something move up ahead of them. It looked like … yes, it was Fidele running in circles outside their door.

“Fidele!” she exclaimed, consternation rushing through her. Her dog was just a little fellow and could easily be run over by a carriage. “Whatever are you doing outside? I thought I left you in my room.”

Fidele yapped at her happily and dashed inside when she opened the door for him.

“Don’t take that filthy animal up the front stairs,” her mother said.

“Oh, very well,” Lenora said, opening the door to the servants’ stairwell.

Fidele bounced up the stairs as if he knew them well. Very likely, he did since Summer often took him for his constitutional walks.

As Lenora topped the stairs, she saw Summer hastening down the hall, her hair and dress a trifle in disarray. She must have returned home ahead of them once Lenora joined Lady Temple. A secret lover? Lenora wondered, a trifle amused at the sight. She would have to tease her about it. But Summer whisked herself into the door of her room and closed it before Lenora could catch up with her.

Well, wasn’t that a fine thing! Her mother was unimpressed with her conquest, and she could not even have a bit of fun with her tutoress to cap off the evening.

“I guess it is just you and me,” she said to Fidele. “Come on, boy, let’s go to bed.”

The little dog happily danced at her side, rising on his back legs and turning in giddy circles. He then dropped to all fours and chased his tail.

Lenora laughed at his antics. “You silly thing, you have not a care in all this world. As long as you have a chance at a run each day and plenty of meat scraps in your bowl, you are happy as can be.”

Fidele gave a little yap, coming to a stop at Lenora’s door. He sat, raising one paw in an ingratiating manner. “Oh, you!” Lenora said. “I cannot deny you anything at all.”

She tugged the bell pull. When a sleepy-looking footman appeared just outside her door, Lenora said, “Fidele is hungry. Pray, go down to the kitchen, and find him some scraps.”

“Yes, Miss,” the footman said and hastened away.

Soon, he returned with some bread crumbles, a bit of broth, and some leftover meat scraps that seemed likely to go off shortly. “All I could find, Miss,” he said.

“It will do admirably,” Lenora said, taking the bowl from him.

She closed the door and set the bowl in front of Fidele who immediately began gobbling down his goodies, with a great deal of snorting and snuffling.

“If only my life could be as simple as yours,” Lenora said to the little dog. “I’m not sure if I would be happier, but I am certain that I would be far less unsure.”