Lady with a Black Umbrella Read online

  He must be mad. How had it come about anyway? He looked suspiciously at his brother as they came out onto the steps outside the hotel.

  “Well done, Arthur,” he said. “You have got us into quite a coil, my dear brother. I was hoping never to be forced to set eyes on Miss Daisy Morrison after this morning’s business. Yet you suggested that Hetty might be delighted to shepherd them around London. I hope Hetty has your head for this.”

  His brother smiled his sweet, attractive smile. “They are a delight, Giles,” he said, “and quite unaware of the true awkwardness of their situation. We owe it to them to help them. The older sister has extraordinary courage and is quite selfless in her designs. It will do you credit to assist her. Remember that she risked her own safety, perhaps her very life, to help you. And I believe Hetty will be overjoyed.”

  “Arthur,” his brother said, coming to a full stop and staring at him, “I dread to picture your home when you begin your life’s work. The beggars and frauds and cheats will be lined up for half a mile waiting to be handed your last pair of shoes and crust of bread.”

  The Reverend Arthur Fairhaven smiled sweetly. “If there is one among them who is truly in need,” he said, “then I will not have given in vain, Giles.”

  The viscount shook his head, looked disgusted, and decided to laugh instead. “Has the whole world gone mad around me?” he asked. “Or is it a characteristic of a madman to think he is the only sane person in existence? Maybe I am the one who should be carted off to Bedlam.”

  ***

  Viscount Kincade had another visit to make that afternoon before accompanying his brother to their cousin’s, and this was a visit he should have made three or four days before and had been avoiding. Was it just the knowledge that he was not in his younger sister’s favor? he wondered as he dismounted from his horse before his brother-in-law’s door and handed the reins to a waiting groom. Or was it the even more certain knowledge that she would enjoy seeing his battered face and crowing over the stories about him that she was bound to have heard?

  He sighed inwardly as the butler took his hat and cane and preceded him to his elder sister’s sitting room. But any hope he might have had that she would be alone was dashed as soon as the butler stood aside for him to enter the room. It was occupied by both sisters.

  “Giles, ” Lady Julia Holmes said, rising to her feet with some difficulty to reveal a very pregnant figure, “you have come at last. Do let me have a look at your face. Have your good looks been quite spoiled, my dear?” She came unnecessarily close and grimaced at the still-purple remains of his black eye. “It will heal? There will be no permanent scar?”

  “Absolutely not,” he said, taking her hands and kissing her cheek with some difficulty, leaning across her bulk in order to do so. “Heavens, Julia, is it to be triplets? You seem to double in size every time I see you.”

  “Well,” she said, “when you consider the size of Ambrose, it is hardly to be expected that his heir would be a pigmy. And our side of the family is not noted for midgets. Look at you. And Arthur.”

  “Hello, Judith,” Lord Kincade said, turning and smiling somewhat uncertainly at his younger sister, who sat straight in her chair and eyed him stonily. “No hugs and kisses, dear?”

  ‘‘Don’t you ‘dear’ me,” she said, lifting her chin a good inch. “And don’t you come over here looking for sympathy either. If both your eyes were as black as coal and all your teeth knocked out and all your ribs poking out through your back, you would not draw one tear from me,& Giles.”

  “Well,” he said, seating himself next to his older sister and nodding his acceptance of a cup of tea, “I thought you might aim for some originality, Jude. You were saying much the same things the last time I saw you, except that then, I believe, you were babbling on about knives and pistols and, er, boiling oil, was it?”

  “I hate you,” she said, “and I am glad you did not reach Bath, and if you have come here to wheedle your way back into my good graces again, you have wasted your time. I hope you choke on your tea,” she added spitefully as he lifted his cup to his lips.

  ‘‘Enough, Judith,” her older sister said, laughing despite herself. “All Giles did, when all is said and done, was stop you from going to the public masquerade, and you know that I would have stopped you had I not believed your story about going to the theater with the Billingses, and that Papa surely would have done so if he were here.”

  “I hate having an older sister and brothers,” Judith said, tossing her dark hair and glaring with deep-brown eyes. She was the only member of the family to have inherited her mother’s dark coloring. The other three all favored their father. “You all think that because I am not yet twenty, I am just a child and must be given no freedom at all and no power to think for myself.”

  “Since it is apparent that you would use that freedom to tie yourself to a wastrel and a scoundrel,” the viscount said, sounding bored, “and your power to think to place your fortune in the hands of a man who would dissipate it in a fortnight, then clearly you must be treated like a child, Jude.”

  “Lord Powers is not a wastrel and a scoundrel and he is not interested in my fortune,” Judith cried, leaping to her feet. “And if that is what you were planning to tell Papa, Giles, you are a liar and a rogue and you deserved more than that black eye.”

  “As you said before,” he said dryly. “I planned to advise Mama and Papa to come home before you elope and put yourself beyond the pale of respectable society for the rest of your life, little spitfire. Julia is at something of a disadvantage these days and cannot be expected to chase after you. And one cannot expect Ambrose to do so. Whenever Hetty escorts you somewhere, you succeed in giving her the slip with great ease as soon as she becomes involved in gossip, as she so easily does. Arthur is so sweet-natured that you would probably be able to persuade him to drive your coach to Gretna. And I, frankly, have better things to do than to act as your jailer.”

  Judith exploded into unexpected laughter suddenly. “Like bedding down with barmaids,” she said before blushing.

  “Judith!” Her sister’s cup clattered back into its saucer. “Mind your manners, do. Oh, it is quite right that Mama should be here. I am finding it impossible to manage you.”

  Lord Kincade was pale and tight-lipped. “I suppose you enjoy that little tidbit of scandalous gossip even more than this eye, don’t you, Jude?” he said. “It was a cheap shot, my dear. Very cheap. Now, news has obviously got into this house during the last six days, but have you been out at all during that time?”

  She glared at him before sitting down. “You know I have not,” she said. “You sentenced me to house arrest for one whole week or until either you or Papa returned from Bath, do you not recall?”

  “Then fetch your bonnet," he said. “I will take you for a walk now before paying a call on Hetty with Arthur. You will need some fresh air.”

  “Well, hooray,” Judith said with exaggerated sarcasm. “I am to have an outing. With my brother. I can scarce contain my excitement.”

  “Now, Jude!” her brother commanded, pointing to the door. “Before I change my mind.”

  He looked at his older sister after Judith had flounced out of the room. “Has she been a dreadful handful?” he asked. “I hate to think of your having to put up with her tantrums when I am sure you are in need of rest and tranquillity.”

  “She has had a trying case of the sullens,” Julia admitted, "but has not tried to escape. I think your threat of an, er, walloping if she did had some effect, Giles. And she knows very well that Papa would carry out the threat even if you would not.”

  Lord Kincade frowned. “Powers has not tried to see her?” he asked.

  She hesitated. “I have a feeling that some notes have passed, ” she said. “But I am afraid that I have played craven and pretended ignorance.”

  “Can she not see that the connection is wholly ineligible?” the viscount asked, exasperated. “It is true that his father is the Marquess of Chalcott, bu
t that is the only fact that could possibly recommend him. And no one seems ever to have seen the marquess anyway. The Lord knows what he is like. But Powers, Julia! He has every vice one could name, and has been intent on winning a wealthy bride by fair means or foul for the past two years or more. Can Judith not see that?”

  “He is very handsome, Giles,” his sister said, “and can be very charming. And Judith is very young and very impressionable. We will just have to see that she grows safely out of it.”

  Lord Kincade sighed. “I suppose I should go to Bath after all,” he said, “or at least send a long and explicit letter. I don't enjoy being older brother to a spitfire, Julia.”

  “Is it true that a lady saved you from a thorough beating?” she asked, looking closely at his bruised eye again. “Poor Giles. What a dreadful experience. Who could possibly have wanted to do such a thing? And it happened after your purse was stolen, it is said, not before. Who was the lady?”

  Lord Kincade was thankful for the return of his younger sister to the room at that moment, though the look she gave him would have felled him on the spot if it had been loaded with bullets. Enough to have one troublesome female at a time to occupy his thoughts. He did not even want to think about Miss Daisy Morrison for the next hour or two. Indeed, he would be very happy if he never had to do so.

  “Well, my dear,” he said, “would you care to take your jailer’s arm and pick up your ball and chain? You may have to squint your eyes when we step outside. The daylight may dazzle you after such a lengthy incarceration.”

  “I hate you, Giles Fairhaven,” his sister said, thrusting her arm vengefully through his.

  Chapter 5

  “You look just perfect, Rose!” Daisy, her hands clasped to her bosom, was gazing in delight at her sister, who was dressed in a pale-lemon muslin dress with bonnet to match and looking the picture of youthful loveliness. “Lady Hetty Parkinson cannot fail to be taken with you. Oh, this is all turning out like a fairy tale. Soon you will be going to balls and concerts and theater parties, and the gentlemen will be flocking around you. And your only problem will be deciding which one’s suit to encourage and accept.”

  “Daisy,” Rose said, turning speaking eyes on her elder sister, “we have not yet met Lady Hetty. We know nothing of her except that she is Lord Kincade’s cousin.”

  “And that she has three sons,” Daisy reminded her. “I wonder what their ages are, Rose. His lordship did not say.”

  “I cannot like this,” Rose said as she pulled on her gloves nevertheless, seeming to realize that her protests would be ignored, as they always were when Daisy had set her mind on something. “The viscount did not half like the suggestion that he present us to his cousin. And indeed it is a great imposition.”

  “There you are wrong,” her sister said, putting on her own straw bonnet carefully over her piled braids. “He is an extremely civil man and a man of pride. You could tell that he felt beholden to us, Rose, by the ridiculous fuss he made over the money. He must be grateful to have something to do for us in return. And indeed, he is a very handsome man. Did you notice? Despite his black eye, I think his good looks are evident. Perhaps he will become enamored of you. I would not be at all surprised.”

  Rose’s shriek of dismay was drowned out by the sound of knocking on their sitting-room door. Daisy strode across the room to open it, excitement putting a spring in her step.

  Yes, he was indeed handsome, she thought as she beamed up at Viscount Kincade and noted his tall, broad-shouldered figure, his thick and shining blond hair, and his regular features, marred temporarily by the bruised eye. And it would not be at all surprising if he developed an attachment to Rose, who easily matched him in coloring and beauty. She would certainly not stand in the way of such a match.

  Lord Kincade had sent a servant that morning with the message that he would wait on the ladies during the afternoon in order to convey them to his cousin’s home. Daisy had been waiting in excited anticipation ever since.

  “Good afternoon, my lord,” she said all in a rush. “We are ready, as you see. We certainly did not wish to keep you waiting when you are doing us such a particular favor. And such a beautiful day it is too. Is the Reverend Fairhaven not with you this afternoon?”

  Lord Kincade bowed. “My brother is accompanying my younger sister to Madame Tussaud’s,” he said. “Judith has not had many outings during the last week.”

  “How lovely it must be to have brothers to accompany one everywhere,” Daisy said. “There are just the two of us in our family. Here is Rose all ready to go, as you see. I am taking the place of a brother, in a way, by seeing to it that she has this chance to go into society. Is it not fortunate that I am six years her senior and can act as her chaperon? I am talking too much, am I not? You must forgive me; I always do that when I am excited and somewhat nervous. You cannot imagine how important this visit is to me, my lord.”

  Lord Kincade bowed to Rose and offered his arm. Daisy smiled to herself at the handsome picture they made together and whisked herself out of the room ahead of them when he offered her his other arm.

  “Oh, that is quite unnecessary,” she said. “I have been told that I stride along so briskly that a man finds it difficult to suit his pace to mine.”

  Lord Kincade was left with one arm hanging on midair. He glanced at Rose and raised his eyebrows.

  “Daisy is very independent,” Rose said hesitantly. “She always has been. But then she has always been responsible for the organization of our lives for as far back as I remember.”

  “Perhaps Daisy would do as well to learn that country manners are not necessarily town manners,” he said quietly, though the low volume was hardly necessary. Daisy was already halfway down the stairs and out of earshot.

  “I doubt if Daisy will ever realize that,” Rose said, staring at her sister’s disappearing back with a mixture of fondness and exasperation.

  Lord Kincade handed Rose into an open barouche and took his seat opposite her and Daisy, his back to the horses. He looked assessingly at both. The younger sister was quite exquisitely beautiful and would undoubtedly take well if Hetty was willing to take them on. And she probably would. She had been quite delighted by the idea when Arthur had suggested it to her the afternoon before—Arthur had persuaded his older brother to allow him to make the explanation. It would be a treat to have two young ladies to shepherd around, she had declared, instead of having nothing to think about except the latest scrapes of those horrid boys.”

  The older sister did not have the serene beauty of the other, but she was decidedly pretty nonetheless and had already drawn one appreciative glance from a doorman at the Pulteney, taken off his guard when she had smiled dazzlingly and thanked him for handing her into the barouche, instead of ignoring him as she was supposed to do. She must have windmills in her head if she thought that anyone was going to mistake her for an aging spinster chaperon. She was six years older than her sister, she had said. Could she really be five-and-twenty?

  Daisy exclaimed with enthusiasm over everything they saw on their journey—just like a child, Lord Kincade thought. Perhaps all her indiscretions on the road to London were due to an unfortunate gaucherie rather than to a deliberate fiendishness. He began to relax in the fresh spring sunshine.

  “Oh, stop!” Daisy cried suddenly, surging to her feet so that the viscount in a reflex action caught at her waist to prevent her from being thrown over the side. “Stop this coach! Immediately!”

  The viscount’s startled coachman obeyed instinctively and with such haste that the horses almost reared up, and certainly caused some commotion on a busy Bond Street. And Daisy was gone from the viscount’s hands, gone from the barouche, though whether she had gone through the door or over it was not at all clear to a dazed Lord Kincade.

  “How could you be so cruel!” he heard with some horror even before he could react and vault out of the carriage after her. “You deserve to be horsewhipped yourself, sir, and see how you would like it.”
/>   Daisy Morrison was standing in the middle of the street on quite the most fashionable stretch of Bond Street, brandishing a pink parasol in the air with one hand and shaking the fist of the other at the surprised driver of a sporting curricle—Mr. Cecil Dunell, prominent Member of Parliament, Lord Kincade noted. And looking fiercely angry.

  But before the unfortunate Mr. Durrell could decide whether to draw his horses to a halt or not, and before the spectators could decide whether to stop to watch the show or be more well-bred and stroll onward as if nothing were happening, and before Lord Kincade could reach Daisy in order to throttle her and stuff her out of sight onto the floor of his barouche, she dived off into the thick of a crowd of pedestrians on one of the pavements and emerged seconds later clutching a bundle of gray hair, which turned out to be a dog of predominantly Pekingese origin.

  “Did you see that? Daisy announced indignantly to a small gathering of shoppers and strollers and a viscount who wished profoundly that he were anywhere on earth at that moment except where he actually was. Mr. Durrell had decided that the commotion had nothing to do with him and was making his escape at leisurely pace along the street. “That man”—she stabbed a finger in the direction of the departing politician—“that man actually struck at this poor creature with his whip.”

  An unidentified young man sniggered. “The dog was under his horses’ feet and might have caused them to bolt,” he was unwise enough to say.

  “What?” said Daisy. “You are defending the bully, sir? There can be no excuse—none!—for striking at poor dumb animals who look to us for protection, not wanton cruelty. All he had to do was to get down from his seat and remove the little dog gently onto the pavement. But oh, no! It is so much easier to lash out with one’s whip. Someone should take a whip to him.”

  “Hear, hear,” a couple of gorgeous dandies said, applauding and grinning at this unlooked-for sideshow.