Chapter 3 Mark my words, Lavinia will be ruined

Chapter three

Arvinia stifled a groan. How like Vinia to be generous when that was the very last thing Arvinia could wish. In the past, such disingenuous tactics had invariably overridden Arvinia's habitual common sense so that she had in the end allowed herself to be embroiled in whatever outlandish plot Lavinia had devised for them. But not this time, Arvinia vowed. This time her cousin risked ruin for them both.

"I regret that I cannot possibly accept your generosity," she stated steadfastly. "Any more than I can take your place at Thornhill. Lavinia, surely you must see that I cannot?"

"I see nothing but that I am in a desperate situation" snapped Lavinia with uncharacteristic sharpness. But immediately she recollected herself.

"Forgive me, Arvinia," she murmured, touching a hand to her forehead. "I had no right to take my frustration out on you. It is only that I am at my wit's end. I have even contemplated eloping in the hopes that Uncle George will not find me before the ship leaves for Portugal. I no longer care that my reputation would be ruined. At least I should be with Bernard."

At Arvinia's sharp intake of breath, Lavinia hastened to add, "But naturally I shall not do anything quite so desperate. Not while you are here at any rate." She smiled wryly, her glance going once more to the clock.

"Oh, dear, I must go," she said. "I promised to visit Lady Montesquieu. She is holding a grand musical concert at her home inorder to show off her youngest daughter, nothing more, but I'm afraid I dare not miss it. Wait for me, dearest. I shall not stay longer than an hour or two. Then we shall have a long relaxation just the two of us, I promise."

She kissed Arvinia on the cheek then, adding offhandedly that a dress had been laid out for her to try on-to pass the time if nothing else and hurriedly left.

Arvinia, who knew Lavinia too well to believe that the matter was so happily ended and who fully expected her cousin to renew her campaign upon her return, fortified herself with a hot bath, after which she allowed Lavinia's maid Abigail to brush out her short curls and help her into the terra-cotta merino round gown with the high ruffled collar, which, in addition to white kid half boots and a Prussian helmet trimmed in ermine, her cousin had caused to be laid out for her.

For several moments she stared with wry appreciation at the change in her appearance. The terra-cotta of the gown accentuated her flawless ivory complexion, while the soft fabric flowing from a high waist clung subtly to her soft, feminine curves, rendering her generous inches graceful rather than gawky.

Unused to anything quite so fine or lovely, Arvinia could not deny that the gown suited her admirably. On the other hand, she could not but think it a little strange that Lavinia had chosen a dress better suited to an outing in Hyde Park than the intimate relaxation at home that her cousin had promised.

No sooner had that thought crossed her mind than the sound of a carriage drew her to the window overlooking Grosvenor Square. She looked out, expecting to see her cousin had returned. What she saw, however, was a traveling coach pulled by a magnificent team of matched grays.

A groom hurried to open the coach door, and a gentleman stepped out. His lean frame draped in a many-caped greatcoat and his face hidden in the shadow of a curly-brimmed beaver, she could tell little about him, except that he was tall, broad-shouldered, and obviously a gentleman of fashion. Then he turned, and, to her horror, she saw his left leg appear to buckle beneath him. Her breath stopped as he clutched at the carriage door and caught himself. She little doubted that he uttered a curse as, angrily, he shook off the arm of the groom, who instinctively had reached out to help him. The unfortunate hireling fairly jerked to attention, his gaze studiously fixed on some distant point, as the gentleman straightened, then, depending heavily on an ebony stick, limped toward the house.

Thoughtfully, Arvinia withdrew from the window, her heart strangely touched by what she had witnessed. Having been reared with four brothers, she was keenly aware of how galling such an affliction must be to the male sense of pride. Who was he? she wondered. One of Lavinia's bevy of admirers? The image of him as he flung off the groom's proffered arm, came back to her. Somehow she could not picture the stranger jostling for her cousin's attention amid a host of moonstruck young puppies.

Her musings were rudely interrupted by a knock on her bedroom door, followed by the flurried entrance of a matronly lady, who seemed on the point of falling into a fit of the vapors.

"Arvinia, upon my word I never dreamed he would arrive so soon!" exclaimed Lavinia's Aunt Lucia, waving a sheet of vellum about in extreme agitation. "Indeed, I am quite certain Lavinia said we were not to look for him until tomorrow noon. Oh, whatever shall we do? Lavinia promised that when the time came, she would have arrived at a solution to our difficulties. But I have just been awakened from my nap by Hawkins, who, even for a butler, is most infuriatingly taciturn,and what must he do but inform me of our guest's arrival and give me this letter from Lavinia, which is most uncommonly distressing. Indeed, I cannot think what Beverly will say to it. No doubt they will see to it that I am thrown out into the streets for dereliction of duty. Arvinia, I depend on you, who have always demonstrated a level head, to tell me what must be done to avert disaster, though I doubt there is anything that can be done. Mark my words, Lavinia will be ruined, and I shall spend the rest of my days in the poorhouse, I know it."

"Perhaps if you would let me read the letter, Lucia," interjected Arvinia, who could make little sense of the elderly woman's disjointed utterances.

She was to discover a number of things began to make sense as she struggled to decipher Lavinia's hastily scrawled missive, chief of which were her cousin's repeated glances at the mantel clock, the odd choice of the terra-cotta merino dress for Arvinia perusal, and the fact that Lavinia had conveniently left the golden ring conspicuously on Arvinia's dressing table.

Dearest Aunt Lucia, (Arvinia read)

I have chosen to run away with Bernard rather than allow Uncle George to confine me to an abbey or Aunt Clara's, which would be just as intolerable. I see now that Arvinia was right and that it would be unconscionable to play such a trick on the Duke of Archibald, who has done nothing to deserve such treatment at my hands. I pray you will tender His Grace my apologies along with my sealed letter informing him I regretfully must refuse the honor of his name, since I already have Another's. Please inform Arvinia that I shall post the sum she requested and beg that she will accept it and the trunk in her room.

I am as always Your loving niece,

Lavinia.