Miss Armistead Makes Her Choice Page 5

  “Not money, you goose; I am merely to impart my services in the selection of a better aspirant to your hand.”

  “You!” she cried. “Never say so!”

  “What is this?” he demanded. “I am the consummate individual to employ in such a case as this. For one, I love you too much to steer you astray.”

  “Yes, that you love me well is very true, and I do believe it has quite spoilt me. However, you daren’t claim to be a wonderful judge of character!”

  Colin opened his mouth to repudiate her accusation but recalled his lack in rightly judging Cecily in time to prevent his making a fool of himself. Taking a deep breath, he changed tack. “You are correct. I had thought I should merely make a list of suitable prospects and send you off to smile at them until they are well and surely smitten.”

  This remark brought the very smile to her face, as well as a fetching dimple to one side of her mouth. “I suppose you shall have to accompany me everywhere I go so as best to ascertain what’s what. I can’t say that I shall mind that one bit, Colin. I should like to see you more often.”

  “That, my pet,” he said as he reached out a finger to flick the tip of her nose, “is quite impossible. Tony and I have made a pact; no balls or routs, card parties, soirees or even one Venetian breakfast all season long.”

  “Colin, whatever can you be thinking? I have never heard anything so foolish in all my life. If this has anything to do with what happened on account of that Cecily Ponsonby, I swear, I shall scream.”

  “It hasn’t any more to do with Cecily than it has to do with Tony’s long gone Rebecca, which brings to mind, what of Tony?” Colin twitted. “Shouldn’t he make you a fine husband?”

  A vague smile spread over Analisa’s face as she sank back into the sofa pillows. “Sir Anthony is certainly one of the finest gentlemen of my acquaintance. He is sufficiently intelligent, endlessly handsome, witty as one could wish, and has an undeniable appeal that prompts all the ladies to sigh over him. However, I might say precisely the same with regard to you.”

  “I see, though one could do worse than marry a man you love as a brother.”

  “Worse, yes, and his name is Lord Northrup,” she riposted, her eyes wide. “However, I am persuaded there is a man somewhere with whom I did not grow up and who is at least half as wonderful as the two of you put together. It means that you shall have to break your pact with Tony, but there is no doing otherwise. If not, I shall never be satisfied that you have my best interests at heart.”

  Colin looked into his sister’s eyes and knew that she was entirely correct. He could not divide himself from the events of the season whilst entertaining any hope at all whatsoever that he could contract a suitable marriage for his sister. With a sigh, he stood and held out his hand to pull her into his arms for a farewell embrace. “Do not fear, little Ana. I shall dedicate myself entirely to your welfare until the matter is resolved. I believe there is a rout at the Green’s tomorrow night. I shall present myself at your door at the appointed time and our pursuit shall begin in earnest.”

  “Oh, Colin!” she cried. “You are the best of brothers! But what am I to do in the meantime?”

  “You are to repair to your boudoir and sleep every minute between now and then. You shall need it,” he said with a last wink over his shoulder as he shut the door behind him.

  Chapter Four

  “I must say, I have never before attended a rout so thoroughly devoid of society,” Mrs. Armistead whispered in her daughter’s ear. “One would have believed the Green’s possessed of a great many more friends!”

  “I think it fair to say that we are, perhaps, a good deal too early,” Elizabeth observed.

  “Early? Never say so! The invitation was very clear. We have arrived at the stroke of nine of the clock, just as expected.”

  Elizabeth hoped the hot blush that invaded her cheeks went unnoticed by the few guests who had erred just as they had. “Yes, Mama, but I do believe we were meant to be late. It is generally understood by all but those currently present. Aunt Augusta warned us, you might recall.”

  Her mother raised her utterly superfluous lorgnette over her spectacles and studied the men and women in attendance, upon which she grunted in concession of Elizabeth’s words.

  “Perhaps we had best retire to the cloakroom for the best part of an hour,” Elizabeth suggested “and reappear as if we had only just arrived.”

  “Yes, my dear, I do believe you have the right of it.” Mrs. Armistead took her daughter firmly by the arm but, just as they gained the door leading to the stairs and the hoped for hiding place, their progress was impeded by the entrance of an elegant, dark-haired couple.

  “Why Mr. Lloyd-Jones! We had not expected to find you here!” Elizabeth’s mother exclaimed. “And who is this entrancing lady on your arm?”

  Elizabeth debated as to whether or not she preferred to sink through the floor or allow Mr. Lloyd-Jones, who looked as if he wished for the same, the privilege. Of all the gentlemen they might have run into whilst in the act of retreating from a party to which they had arrived too early, it was he she least wished to meet. In light of her impending marriage and subsequent removal to Edinburgh, her sensibilities had been all that were hardy during the course of this particular visit to London, however, Mr. Lloyd-Jones was proving to be the chink in her armor. Worse yet, she could not account for it. Why should she care a farthing what he, or any man save Duncan, thought of her or her mother?

  “Mrs. Armistead, Miss Armistead,” he said with a slight bow in their direction, “I should like to introduce you to my sister, Miss Analisa Lloyd-Jones.”

  Elizabeth felt it a graceful speech in spite of the expression of alarm stamped on his features. “But, of course,” she remarked with what she hoped to be equal aplomb and a far more opaque expression. “I recall you having been pointed out to me, Miss Lloyd-Jones, at the Carruth’s ball. I might have recognized you on my own, you are so like your brother, but it was Lord Northrup who gave me your name.” She could not fathom what it was about her comment that had caused two such equivalent expressions of apprehension on their faces, so she forged on with the pleasantries. “I do assure you that it was with the kindest of words he made you known to me. I am most happy to have been properly introduced and see that all he said, in perfect felicity, is true.”

  “Why, Elizabeth, is this the very young lady whose hand in marriage you suggested Lord Northrup should pursue?” her mother queried.

  Elizabeth opened her mouth to respond but hadn’t the slightest idea what she might say that should absolve her.

  “How very unusual for one so recently arrived in London to play at matchmaking,” Mr. Lloyd-Jones observed, coolly. “I cannot imagine why Lord Northrup did not cross my mind as a candidate for my sister’s hand prior to his offering for her. Perhaps it has something to do with his extreme youth,” he said smoothly as he leveled a look of mild censure in Elizabeth’s direction.

  “Why, Mr. Lloyd-Jones, I merely observed that your sister, a young lady so well-mannered and beautiful, was a far more suitable woman to look to for a wife than I. Oh dear! That is not what I had meant to say.”

  “And what was it you were meant to say, Miss Armistead?” he asked, regarding her with a jaundiced eye.

  Elizabeth willed her ears not to burn hot with shame but knew it to be a losing battle. “Lord Northrup expressed a desire to marry in spite of his tender age and my reply had to do with the subject of his selecting his bride from amongst the young ladies whose number of years did not exceed his own. Your sister was to hand at the moment, that is all, though I maintain my assertion that she should make any man a lovely bride.”

  Miss Lloyd-Jones, who had previously looked a trifle vexed, was now wreathed in smiles. “Colin,” she said as she rapped his arm with her fan, “one mustn’t object to such pretty words. And, as I am not to wed Lord Northrup, Miss Armistead, I greatly fear he shall double his pretensions to your hand, a course of action I am persuaded, should they be
ar fruit, should make him most content.”

  As his sister spoke, Mr. Lloyd-Jones’ grim expression relaxed into a natural smile and Elizabeth felt a surge of gratitude for Miss Lloyd-Jones’ sweetness of nature.

  “Truly, I meant no harm, but you are most correct, Mr. Lloyd-Jones, in that I should have taken better care to keep my opinions to myself.”

  “I find I quite like Miss Armistead, Colin. Why have you never spoken of her to me?” Miss Lloyd-Jones scolded.

  Elizabeth saved him the trouble of answering what she assumed to be a provoking question and took Miss Lloyd-Jones by the arm to lead her into the ballroom, leaving her brother to escort Mrs. Armistead. “Company is so thin,” Elizabeth mused. “I had feared we were terribly gauche to arrive so early but your attendance puts my mind at ease.”

  “Oh,” Miss Lloyd-Jones cried, “we shall be gauche together, then. I am forever telling Colin that his aptitude for promptness does him a disservice in these circumstances, but he will insist!”

  “In that case, I am persuaded your presence shall lend us countenance and we need not fear being snubbed by all and sundry,” Elizabeth asserted. She paused for a moment to listen in on the murmur of conversation between Mr. Lloyd-Jones and her mother and, determining that all was well, carried on. “I hope it is not too coarse of me to inform you of my betrothal to Mr. Cruikshank. He has lately been in the military and stationed near my home in Bengal. He is even now on his way to join me in London. I shouldn’t wish you to waste a moment matchmaking on my behalf.”

  “Never say so, for I am convinced you should be perfect for Colin,” Miss Lloyd-Jones said lightly as if her words were not of the significance they implied. Leaning in to make her next words for Elizabeth alone, Miss Lloyd-Jones pressed her cause. “He has lately had a disappointment but she, aside from her alarming character of which we nearly learned too late, did not suit him in the least. You are far more to his taste and I am persuaded I should love you as a sister.”

  Elizabeth chose to treat her companion’s words as being of no more import than her own wildly beating heart. Mr. Lloyd-Jones’ previously open admiration of her coupled with his clear displeasure at her behavior and her unaccountable desire to be seen as all that is good in his eyes had her positively flustered. She dared not yield to the diversion she felt at such singular circumstances.

  “Miss Lloyd-Jones, I am greatly flattered, but my betrothed and I shall be wed once he has taken up residence in London and the banns can be fully read. It is a circumstance to which I look forward with great contentment.”

  A tiny frown appeared between Miss Lloyd-Jones’ pretty eyes. “I believe, absolutely, that these are your true intentions, Miss Armistead, and yet, I cannot help but feel there is something amiss.” She searched Elizabeth’s eyes a moment and heaved a sigh. “I have refused to settle for anything less than true love, and I urge you to follow the same course.”

  Elizabeth began to protest, but Miss Lloyd-Jones stepped away and took her brother’s arm. “Colin, I should like you to host an evening of entertainment. In fact, I quite insist upon it. It needn’t be elaborate, an evening of cards or, perhaps, dancing and a light supper. Does that not sound enchanting, Miss Armistead?”

  “I don’t know that my opinion has anything to say to the matter,” Elizabeth said firmly in spite of her apprehension in the face of Mr. Lloyd-Jones’ renewed alarm.

  Miss Lloyd-Jones took in her brother’s expression and emitted a trill of laughter. “You mustn’t mind Colin, Miss Armistead, it is his dining room that he dislikes so excessively, not the notion of guests to dinner. And, of course, you must promise to attend, or I shall be very much put out.”

  Elizabeth looked to her mother, whose frozen features yielded no assistance in the least. “I suppose we might very well be free, depending on the evening in question,” Elizabeth stammered as she allowed her gaze to flutter up to observe Mr. Lloyd-Jones’ face in order to ascertain his reaction. Unlike her mother, his countenance was alive with myriad emotions, all of which appeared to be in utter conflict with one another.

  “By all means, we must have the ladies from India to dine,” he said easily. “Of course the invitation extends to your Miss Hale, as well,” he added with a warning look for his sister who lifted her brows in surprise.

  “Yet another young miss newly come to town with whom you somehow become acquainted without my knowledge!” Miss Lloyd-Jones chirped.

  “She is but I do not see her here tonight,” Mr. Lloyd-Jones remarked.

  “She is under the weather,” Elizabeth’s mother explained. “This English climate is to blame! However, I am persuaded she shall be soon recovered.”

  “Well, then,” Miss Lloyd-Jones said, “it is settled. Needless to say, we must petition a few gentlemen to join us. It would not do to have an uneven party. What say you to Sir Anthony, Colin?” she suggested, her face alight with mirth.

  “Ana!” Mr. Lloyd-Jones snapped, his face turning a bit red. “Excuse me ladies, but I require a word in private with my sister.” Before she had the opportunity to object, he placed an arm around her shoulders and led her off.

  “Well! I never!” Mrs. Armistead berated. “I have a good mind to rake him over the coals!”

  “Mama, please!” Elizabeth hissed. “I beg you, do not cause a scene. I am persuaded Mr. Lloyd-Jones has a perfectly acceptable excuse for his behavior. In point of fact, I believe he has mended his ways already and is poised to seek us out and beg our pardon.” Elizabeth knew her words bent the truth nearly to the snapping point, but he had, indeed, turned his head in their direction. That he had turned away again after treating her to what seemed to her a scathing look that raked her from head to toe was a snub that hurt far more than she was willing to admit.

  Forcing away the inexplicable tears that started in her eyes, she concentrated on what it was they ought to do next. “Come, Mama, I feel we are in need of some refreshment.” Together they walked in the opposite direction of their erstwhile failed decampment and went in search of cold lemonade and a plateful of bonbons. They ate, huddled together in the corner of the salon, whilst Elizabeth mentally went over the conversation with the Lloyd-Joneses in an attempt to determine of what she could have been guilty that should earn her such barefaced scorn.

  It would seem that her mother’s thoughts ran along the same lines. “Do you know,” she murmured, “I do believe it was not well done of us to trespass on Mr. Lloyd-Jones’ hospitality when first we met. I ought to have sent the coachman in pursuit of assistance just as you suggested. If so, we would not, even now, be in such bad odor with Mr. Lloyd-Jones,” she added with a sniff.

  “Why? What could his opinion of us possibly matter? By the end of June, you shall once again set sail to India and I will be a married woman on my way to Scotland. We shall none of us see neither hide nor hair of Mr. Lloyd-Jones for the remainder of our lives, and, I must say, we shall most likely be happy not to.”

  “But, Elizabeth in spite of his sometimes unpleasant manner, he is an excellent catch!”

  Elizabeth was stunned. “But, Mama, how can you say so? I am to be married to Duncan in little more than a month. We are promised to one another. I consider myself married at this very moment in all but deed.”

  “Yes, but Elizabeth, he is so rich!”

  “I have no love for money.” Comfort, however, was another matter. Life on the moors of Scotland promised to be forsaken and excessively frigid.

  “And so well-connected!”

  “Duncan and I shall be enough for each other. And soon enough there shall be children.” However, there would be no Miss Hale or any other young lady with whom to pass the time. The only woman for miles around promised to be Duncan’s mother who was sickly and in need of care.

  “I daresay I haven’t seen so handsome a man since your father was young.”

  “Handsome men are thick on the ground. Do you not recall his equally handsome friend, Sir Anthony? Besides which, I prefer men who are interesting.” And yet
, there was something about Mr. Lloyd-Jones that attracted her as had no other man. It was really most provoking.

  “Interesting! Mr. Lloyd-Jones is extremely interesting. I doubt I have met a more interesting man in all of my life. Have I told you that I lived in the neighborhood of his family in my youth? Such fine young men, all of them, and the ladies no different. I should have been proud to marry a Lloyd-Jones and that is not an exaggeration, I do assure you.”

  “And yet, no Lloyd-Jones offered for you. To think, you might be his aunt, even now, if one had,” Elizabeth said with a wry smile. “And I, his cousin.”

  “That is neither here nor there,” Mrs. Armistead replied with a swat of her hand. “You are well aware that I was entirely besotted with your father from the moment I laid eyes on him. Which brings to mind; Mr. Lloyd-Jones has a very fine set of eyes. I can’t recall seeing another quite as fine, not even amongst his family. Should you marry him, your children should have eyes just like his.”

  Elizabeth sighed her frustration. “Our children will have mine or Duncan’s eyes, and though they will not be gray, they shall be every bit as beautiful.” One trait they would not inherit were the scars that Duncan’s eyes had born since the accident, the one that left him blind and entirely incapable of loving her purely for her beauty.

  “That is all very well and true, Elizabeth dear, but you know what it is I meant, about the eyes, that is to say.”

  “Yes, Mama, I do, and I can only wonder at you. If you objected to my marriage to Duncan, you might have aired your opinion before our first meeting with Mr. Lloyd-Jones. As it is, I can only assume you have been seduced by his comeliness, a virtue that is as inconsequential as it is ephemeral.” At least, she could only assume that a man’s beauty was fleeting if her father were meant to be regarded as an example of youthful winsomeness. And yet, she could not deny that Mr. Lloyd-Jones’ propensity to blow hot and cold towards her was only one of his attractions. His eyes, sometimes light and piercing, at other times shadowed and striking, were such that she had woken having dreamed of them on more than once occasion. The way his dusky hair curled about his temples was also very pleasing and she owned that his lips were shaped in a manner most becoming.