Scales and Sensibility by Stephanie Burgis

Chapter 17

The party broke up an hour later. The newcomers were escorted to their rooms to rest from their journey, Penelope retreated to her bedroom to begin her preparations for the evening, and Millie and Lucinda left for their own homes with open reluctance.

Elinor rose to leave, too, but Benedict held out a hand to stop her.

“If you wouldn’t mind, Mrs. De Lacey…” He aimed a frowning glance at the door, which had been left half-open to preserve the proprieties. “We still have some time before we need to prepare for supper. Would you care to take a turn around the garden with me first?”

Elinor hesitated. The correct answer, of course, was no. On the other hand…

No, she told herself again, more firmly. She was not going to make a fool of herself over Benedict Hawkins, no matter how much she might be tempted. It would be ridiculous enough in her own guise—plain, uninteresting and impoverished—but it would be even worse now, when she was disguised as a woman more than ten years older than him…a woman he’d already accused of being unethical and mercenary.

She raised her eyebrows and forced her voice to sound as cold as he deserved. “I seem to recall a rather unpleasant encounter in a garden earlier, Mr. Hawkins. Perhaps we’d better not repeat it.”

He grimaced, but humour danced in his eyes. “Believe me, Mrs. De Lacey, I haven’t forgotten that incident either. But if you wouldn’t mind, I’d prefer to make my apologies outside, where no one else can hear me.”

Elinor had to fight to repress the smile that wanted to escape, as something tight inside her chest relaxed for the first time since their argument. “What a cowardly admission to make.”

“Utterly cowardly,” he agreed as he rose. He offered her his arm, and one corner of his mouth turned up in a half-smile. “What do you say? May I grovel in private, after all?”

She clasped her hands firmly in front of her and walked before him to the door. “Luckily for you, my dragon enjoys the fresh air.”

“Excellent,” Benedict said. “I knew there was a good reason that they’d become so popular.”

Sir Jessamyn lifted his head with eager attention, golden gaze flicking back and forth expectantly.

And really, Elinor told herself a few minutes later, it hadn’t only been an excuse. As they stepped out of the house, Sir Jessamyn tipped his head back in pure bliss. His thin, forked tongue darted out to taste the air; he gave a shiver of delight.

Benedict laughed appreciatively and reached over to stroke Sir Jessamyn’s back, which glowed and glittered with colour in the open sunlight. “I see what you mean. He is much happier now, isn’t he?”

“Well, dragons weren’t meant to live in drawing rooms,” said Elinor. “Or in houses at all, for that matter.”

“You should hear Aubrey on the topic.” Benedict’s smile slipped as their gazes met, and their earlier conversation echoed silently between them. “Mrs. De Lacey, I must—”

“Wait.” They were still standing directly in front of the house, overlooked by the windows to Penelope’s bedroom. Elinor turned away from Benedict and set out across the carefully-manicured lawn. “There’s a little wilderness on the east side of the house,” she said. “We can talk there.”

He followed her in silence, until they’d walked through the gap in the low stone wall that enclosed the Hathergill’s “wilderness.” It was, Elinor had always thought, the most orderly wilderness she’d ever seen, but still, there were enough rocks and bushes and long-branched trees to make it feel nearly natural. Better yet, it was completely private.

She reached out to touch the tallest rock—really an ornamental boulder, set beside a long stone bench—and Sir Jessamyn ran down her arm to bask on top of it. When she looked up, she found Benedict studying her with disconcerting intensity.

“You knew exactly where to come,” he said.

“I asked a housemaid for advice, earlier,” said Elinor. “Maids know everything.”

Unfortunately, she added silently.

She had failed in her first attempt to earn Sally’s silence and her own letters—and after that first failure, the second attempt would be infinitely more difficult.

Benedict opened his mouth as if to speak—then shook his head and turned away. He was facing the drooping willow that spread its branches across the small pond nearby, and he might have been appreciating its beauty, but Elinor saw the stiffness in his shoulders and was not fooled.

“I owe you an apology, Mrs. De Lacey.”

Elinor drew a deep breath and sat down on the bench. “Yes,” she said, “you do. How did you realize?”

He let out a half-laugh. “Well, I certainly knew I was being offensive at the time, but it wasn’t until I spoke to Aubrey that I knew I’d also been mistaken.”

Elinor’s fingers curled around the cool stone of the bench. “You spoke to Mr. Aubrey?”

“I knew what I believed I’d seen, but you were so outraged…I thought I had better make quite certain of my facts.” He still hadn’t turned to face her.

Elinor swallowed. “And what did Mr. Aubrey tell you?”

“Very little.” He shook his head, reaching out to run one finger along the line of a willow branch. “He kept muttering about fairy tales and practical jokes. I take it he didn’t care for what you asked him about your dragon?”

“No,” Elinor said, “he didn’t. But…” Her fingers were beginning to ache; she forced herself to ease her grip on the bench. “He wasn’t any more specific than that?”

“Unfortunately, no.” Amusement crept into Benedict’s voice. “When I made the mistake of trying to press him, he launched into a fiery lecture on how fairy tales have been the ruin of dragon scholarship. He thinks they should be banned, and all existing collections burned, by order of the King. I wasn’t sure whether first to enlighten him on the Prince Regent’s part in our government or try to argue over the literary merits of fiction…so I took the coward’s way out and left him to his studies.”

“Very wise of you.” Elinor’s voice sounded thin and airy.

He still didn’t know the truth, after all. She was relieved that Mr. Aubrey had kept her secret. She was.

But she also, irrationally, felt bereft.

Absurd, she told herself, and stiffened her spine. “And? What about your accusation that I stole my dragon?”

“That…” Benedict finally turned to face her, but he still didn’t meet her eyes. “That was an unjust conclusion to leap to, I’m afraid. There was no reason, if you’d helped Elinor Tregarth in other ways, that you should have turned against her in that despicable fashion. By far the most sensible conclusion, I finally realized, is that you are looking after her dragon for her until she finds a more stable situation.”

“If I have her dragon at all,” Elinor pointed out. “The golden streaks aren’t painted on his face.”

“I know. But I’m afraid…” He took a deep breath. “I’ve been rather shaken ever since this morning’s conversation, in your room. You see—and I realize you may well think me mad for saying this, but I have to tell someone, and Aubrey was in no mood to listen…”

“Yes?”

He looked straight into her eyes, his face grimly set, as if braced for a blow. “For a moment, just at the end of our conversation…just for a single moment…I could have sworn that your appearance changed.”

“I beg your pardon?” Elinor stared at him. She could feel her heartbeat fluttering in her throat.

“For just a moment, after I touched your hand, I could have sworn that when I looked at you, I saw…” He broke off, wincing, and began to turn away. “Never mind.”

“No.” Elinor leaned forward, the flats of her hands pressed against the bench. “Tell me. Who did you see?”

“Elinor Tregarth,” Benedict said, and smiled, wryly, as her expression changed. “You see? I knew you’d think me mad.”

* * *

For a moment,Elinor couldn’t speak. Too many contradictory emotions and thoughts were rushing through her.

Benedict spoke again, before she could gather her thoughts. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I know it was only a trick of my eyesight—I haven’t completely lost my wits yet. But, you see, you remind me of her in so many ways.”

“I do?” Elinor blinked. Ever since this morning, she’d been acting the part of Mrs. De Lacey with all of her might. “But she’s—I mean, everyone says that Elinor Tregarth was—”

Benedict waved a dismissive hand. “Obviously, she intimidated her cousin and her friends. When a lady has that much poise and confidence—not to mention intelligence—she’s bound to intimidate some people.”

“Poise and confidence?” Elinor repeated blankly.

Now her head was really whirling. Had he completely forgotten the way they’d met?

His face eased into a grin. “Do you know how we first became acquainted? Aubrey’s carriage knocked her off the road, into a ditch. When I helped her out, she was half-covered in mud, her hair had come undone, and God only knows what muck she’d had to swallow in that filthy water…but she looked me straight in the eye and held herself like a queen. Thanked me for helping her and prepared to set off on her way without asking for an ounce of help.” He shook his head admiringly. “Now, there’s poise.”

“I…suppose so.” Elinor remembered that moment, how she’d felt the mud caked on her face and hair and known, with agonizing certainty, how ridiculous she must appear.

But he’d actually thought this of her, instead?

She couldn’t even take it in.

“She must have told you something about me before she left,” Benedict said. “Otherwise you couldn’t have recognized me this morning and introduced me to Sir John.”

“Well…” Elinor hesitated, but couldn’t think of any other explanation. “She did mention you, yes.”

Benedict’s face brightened. He took a quick step forward. “What did she say?” At the sight of her rising eyebrows, he added, “I mean…you certainly couldn’t have heard of me from anyone else but her—my estate was never that magnificent, even before my father’s mistake. But you’ve been acting the part of a friend to me ever since this morning—asking Sir John to invite me to the house, encouraging my cause with Miss Hathergill…”

“Yes.” Elinor sighed. “I have.”

“So I can’t help being curious.” He smiled, but Elinor could have sworn she saw a flicker of anxiety cross his face. “What did Miss Tregarth say about me, exactly?”

“Really, Mr. Hawkins, you could hardly ask me to betray a confidence,” Elinor said tartly. She frowned at him, trying to interpret the odd anxiety she’d glimpsed on his face.

What on earth could he be angling for? Honestly, what would she have told an older woman, newly met, except…

Oh, no. She cringed.

What if he had noticed her attraction to him yesterday? She’d tried so hard to hide it during their carriage ride and at the dinner table. She had thought—she had hoped—that she had kept it safely secret. It would be too pathetic otherwise! If he had noticed her reactions, after all…if he had been worried that he had hurt or disappointed her, or…

Good God! She couldn’t bear the thought of it.

Elinor made her voice as brisk as possible. “Miss Tregarth was grateful for your and Mr. Aubrey’s kindness, of course. She mentioned both of you as benefactors to her.”

“Both of us,” Benedict repeated flatly. “Oh.”

“And she certainly recommended you both to my generosity,” Elinor finished sweepingly. “So I was only too glad to offer you a bit of help with your courtship this morning. And of course, after Miss Tregarth’s description of Mr. Aubrey, I knew that he was the man to go to with my questions about my dragon.”

“Yes,” Benedict said. “Yes, I can see that. So…she didn’t say anything about me in particular, then?”

He had noticed. He must have. Elinor felt humiliation seize every inch of her spine. She swallowed hard and kept her face a blank.

“Should she have?”

“No,” Benedict said quietly. “No, of course not. Why should she? We had only just met that day.”

“Quite.” Elinor could have choked on the embarrassment that filled her. She searched desperately for a different topic as escape. “But speaking of people who have heard of you…I thought you’d kept your financial issues secret. Hadn’t you? I only knew because Mr. Aubrey spoke of them in the carriage this morning, but—”

“But Gavin Armitage seems to know all of the details.” Benedict’s voice hardened. “I could have sworn no one outside the family ever knew that Father had been caught in that confounded fraud of an investment scheme. How the secret slipped out—and to him, of all people—”

“He only spoke of it as a rumour,” Elinor said. “He cannot know it as a certainty.”

“But if he passes that rumour on to Sir John…”

“We’ll have to see that he doesn’t.” Elinor stood up and straightened her skirts with two vigorous shakes. “I’ll speak to his sister and make certain she knows that I think the rumour false. He won’t want to make a fool of himself by libeling you, after that. Then all you’ll have to do is persuade Penelope of your cause.”

“Yes,” said Benedict. “Of course. I must.”

Elinor gave him a quick, bright smile. “Of course,” she said. “Miss Tregarth told me all about it. You have a five-year-old niece to look after, don’t you? And—”

“Three younger brothers,” Benedict said. “Yes. Colin and Randall and Julian. Julian is only eight. Did she mention that? Not to mention all the workers on the estate. They came to me in a group last month, when they realized how matters stood. I promised them—all of them—that I would make things right again.”

“And so you shall. I am sure of it.” Elinor nodded firmly and scooped Sir Jessamyn off his boulder. “Now if you will excuse us…” She set off before he could answer.

“Mrs. De Lacey?” Benedict’s voice reached her just before she could reach the door in the wall.

Reluctantly, she turned back. “Yes?”

“When you spoke to Miss Tregarth…” He paused. When he continued, his voice sounded strained. “When she spoke of my plans to marry her cousin,” he said, “what exactly did she say?”

Oh, God. He really did suspect her feelings.

“She was delighted,” Elinor said, and lifted her chin. “Why wouldn’t she be?”

She turned and swept out of the garden.