Julia Justiss - My Lady's Honor

They reached the basin, where a waterspout delivered a continuous stream of the heated, faintly sulfur-scented mineral water from a natural spring beneath the pump-house floor. “Aunt Alice tells me you are much improved of late,” Gwennor said as he filled two glasses. “Perhaps before long you shall be able to rejoin your unit.”

“So I keep trying to tell myself! If I could just shake this curst fever…” He sighed and, glasses brimming, turned back to her. “Malaria, they tell me. But so young and lovely a lady cannot wish to hear of pills and potions. Nor is it comforting to a man’s pride to demonstrate how thoroughly he’s been defeated by his own constitution.”

Her sympathy increased a notch as they walked together back toward her waiting aunt. So much of a man’s self-esteem, she knew from observing her father as he battled his final illness, derived from his sense of having mastery of the responsibilities given into his charge. For a military man accustomed to command, it must be especially galling to have been invalided out of his post. Perhaps here, too, was a man who could understand and exhibit a tolerance for infirmity.

“I should suppose a malady is no more discerning than a bullet in battle, nor any more avoidable,” she replied.

Surprise lit the eyes that glanced over to her. “I never thought of it in quite that way, but I imagine you are correct.” His assessing gaze lingered on her face before he murmured, “You are a perceptive young lady.”

She flushed a little. “Only a practical one, I fear.”

“As lovely as she is practical, then. Though I understand that you are in mourning, I am happy to note you do not intend to completely shun society gatherings. I haven’t previously visited the local assembly, but I’m told the affairs are quite enjoyable. Should…you and your aunt be planning to attend next Friday?”

“I shall have to inquire, but I would presume so.”

“Good. You must save me a dance, then—or at least promise me a stroll about the room.”

Before she could reply, they reached her aunt, and a few moments were occupied in the transferring of cups and a discussion of the benefits to be obtained from sipping the warm, heavily mineral-flavored water.

Just as, noses wrinkling against the taste, Colonel Haversham and Lady Alice finished sipping their glassfuls, Mr. Masterson hurried back in. After scanning the room to locate them, he walked over, the smile of delight mirrored by one on the beaming face of Lady Alice.

The men exchanged bows, and Gwennor sensed the colonel’s warm manner chill abruptly.

“Colonels Haversham and Howard I know, Lady Alice,” Mr. Masterson said. “Please, will you not present me to your charming companion?”

The introductions duly made, Mr. Masterson promptly requested Lady Alice to allow her charge to take a turn about the room with him. Her aunt’s smile, if possible, grew even broader as, permission granted, she walked off on Jeffrey Masterson’s arm.

Knowing her aunt was envisioning a courtship of rivals with competing offerings of flowers, books and invitations, Gwen was hard put not to smile, too. If either of these gentlemen came calling the next day, Lady Alice was going to be in alt.

“What brings you to the city?” Mr. Masterson asked. “Certainly not, given the bloom of health on your cheeks, a need to sip the waters. You are paying your aunt a visit?”

“Y-yes. Although seeing my aunt is always a pleasure, as you can tell by my dress, I’ve recently lost a kinsman—my father. With my cousin now taking charge of my old home, I wished a…change of scene.”

“My condolences on your sad loss.”

She nodded briskly, refusing to let her thoughts stray to such doleful ground. “I understand you are attending your ailing grandfather. How kind of you to leave the attractions of London to succor a sick relation.”

He smiled slightly. “Much as I should like to boast that noble purpose was my sole reason for quitting the city, honesty forces me to confess that, though I was truly concerned about the recent decline in grandfather’s health, there were…other considerations.” His smile faded. “I, too, recently suffered a…disappointment, and felt the need for a change.” With a shake of his head, he summoned back the smile. “But enough of that! Does your mourning permit you to attend the assemblies and the theater?”

“I expect we shall attend both.”

“Would you permit me to call tomorrow? Perhaps we could arrange a theater party.” His clear green eyes gazed into hers appealingly.

A shiver of both anticipation and trepidation rippled through her. Firmly suppressing the latter, she replied, “I should like that very much.”

As it turned out, she saw him again sooner than expected. Early the next day as she and Parry took their morning walk, they encountered Mr. Masterson near the park, riding a handsome chestnut gelding. Drawing rein, he dismounted and came over to greet them.

Gwennor had a moment of satisfaction upon noting his obvious relief that she presented Parry as her brother.

He, of course, was more interested in the new four-legged arrival. “What a fine beast, Mr. Masterson.”

“We were…not able to bring our horses with us,” Gwennor said, “and have not as yet had time to hire any. Though the walk is pleasant, we miss our morning ride.”

“I’m afraid Vulcan is a bit too spirited for a lady’s mount, but until you’ve made other arrangements, you are welcome to borrow him, Mr. Wakefield,” Mr. Masterson replied promptly. “I must warn you, he dislikes strangers. ’Tis the reason I ride early, before the streets are full…”

His words trailed off and his expression turned to amazement as Parry approached his horse, murmuring softly. Vulcan alerted, his ears pricking up, and extended his head to nuzzle Parry’s outstretched hand.

“Why, ’tis amazing!” Mr. Masterson exclaimed. “Truly, I’ve never seen him react like that! In fact, he still nips at my groom if Nichols approaches unexpectedly.”

“Parry has a special affinity for animals,” Gwen replied. “They sense and respond to it.”

Her brother turned from crooning to Vulcan, as if suddenly reminded. “Can we return by the stables, Gwen? I want to show you what I’ve found.”

“Oh, not already!” Gwen said with a groan. “My brother also has a knack for discovering lost and injured creatures wherever he goes. At Southford we possessed an ever-changing menagerie of rabbits, fawns, ducks, even wolves he found and healed before setting free again.”

“I have to help them, Gwen,” Parry said.

“Of course you must,” she agreed. “What is it now?”

“Only a kitten. Come see him! His coloring is almost exactly the shade papa was seeking in our rabbits.”

“My father was attempting to produce a stronger strain of domestic rabbit,” Gwen explained. “Parry was directing the breeding experiments.”

“We must go see what he’s found then, mustn’t we?”

Heartened by Mr. Masterson’s congenial response to her brother, as they strolled back, Gwen tried to draw out her potential suitor.

“How do you occupy your time while your grandfather is resting, Mr. Masterson? I imagine there are rather few pursuits here for a gentleman accustomed to London. Though there is, my aunt tells me, a fine lending library.”

Mr. Masterson chuckled. “A claim whose truth I’m not likely to discover! I’m an indifferent scholar, I must confess, and works of literature are more likely to put me to sleep than amuse me. Had it not been for my best friend Gilen—now there’s scholar for you—I would never have survived Oxford.”

Books being one of her chiefest pleasures, Gwen felt a mild disappointment. But there were other interests they might share. “My aunt tells me you came by way of your home at Wilton Park, where you maintain a large stable,” she continued. “Horses are your particular pursuit?”