Page 55 of A Baron's Disguised Lady
To her surprise, the words brought tears to Lavinia’s eyes. They could so easily have been her own, or those of any young woman at the happy moment of her debut. There was such hope there, such excitement for the future, and yet it had all been so cruelly snatched away.
“Are you all right?” Archie asked, and Lavinia looked up in surprise.
She had been quite lost in the pages of the diary, caught up in her encounter with Gwendolene. It was as though she was there, the two of them sitting on the bed together, conversing as sisters. Lavinia could picture Archie’s sister from the portrait of her on the long gallery, and now, through the pages of the diary, she could hear her voice.
“Yes… it’s just… well, it feels like she’s here. I can hear her voice,” Lavinia said, and Archie nodded.
“When I read through the letters we sent to one another when I was at Oxford, it was just the same. She had a beautiful voice. Soft, but clear, like running water,” he said, and Lavinia smiled, looking back down at the diary, and turning the pages, searching for something to lead them further to solving the mystery.
Poor Thomas. He tried so hard; the flowers, the invitations… but I just don’t see him in that way. He’s become a friend, but I can’t imagine him as anything more. Oh, dear diary, am I being cruel to him? The look on his face when I danced with Philip was simply heartbreaking.
But it would be wrong to build his hopes up. No, my mind’s made up. I’m not interested in pursuing a match with Thomas. But as for Philip… he’s so very handsome, and his smile… oh, it quite melts my heart. I wonder what Archie will think of him. I plan to introduce them at Lady Clark’s ball next week. I do hope he likes him.
Again, there was nothing remarkable about the words. They were the musings of a young woman… her hopes and fears. The words might well have been those of Lavinia herself, or any young woman in the first flush of romance.
“Do you know someone called Thomas? Or Philip?” Lavinia asked, looking up at Archie, who thought for a moment, furrowing his brow as though trying to recall the names.
“Ah… yes. Thomas Palmer, the Earl of Chesterfield’s son. He’s nice enough, and he and Gwendolene were friends. But nothing came of it. Philip Williams was an officer in the militia. Gwendolene insisted on my meeting him once, but he wasn’t anything special. They courted for a few weeks, but the attraction was purely… physical,” Archie said, blushing as he spoke the last word.
Lavinia nodded, and reading on, she saw the unfolding of the infatuation, followed by the realization of what Philip was really like.
We share nothing in common, no interests or amusements. He does not play an instrument or paint, and all he talks about is horses, with which I have little interest. I fear the moment of our parting ways is imminent, though I must confess, dear diary, I will not be sad about it,Lavinia continued reading in silence.
“Do you think Philip might have something to do with it?” Archie asked, but Lavinia shook her head.
“No… it was some years ago, wasn’t it? I doubt he’ll have harbored such a grudge. Besides, it appears to be a mutual realization. She writes here how the officer was not interested in anything she had to say beyond the superficial. I think it was merely a parting of ways, and… oh,” Lavinia said, as a piece of paper slipped from the diary to the floor.
It was a letter, and she picked it up, holding it up to examine it, her eyes growing wide with astonishment when she saw who the signatory was.
“What’s that?” Archie asked, and Lavinia unfolded it, shaking her head in utter disbelief.
“It’s a letter from Lord Bath… asking Gwendolene to marry him,” she replied.
Chapter 19
For a few moments, the colliding of these two worlds was too much to comprehend. Lavinia had never known of a connection between Lord Bath and the Baron Sarum, but there it was. A letter, written in Lord Bath’s hand, asking for Gwendolene’s hand in marriage…
“My darling Gwendolene, I write to you in all sincerity, begging you to hear my plea. You are on my mind and my heart every moment of the day, and when I go to sleep, you fill my dreams with your presence. I had not imagined love could strike me so—like a sickness, but one I never wish to recover from.
How I love you, Gwendolene, and how I long to marry you. I can think of no one else who has ever made me feel as you do, and I beg you, I implore you, I beseech you to say yes to my request…”Lavinia read out loud.
The letter continued with similar platitudes and ended with Lord Bath’s desire to receive Gwendolene’s reply by immediate return. He wrote he could wait no longer, that his heart was breaking, and his longing for Gwendolene could not be contained. It was an extraordinary missive, one Lavinia felt indecent for reading, even as it raised the obvious possibility.
“How extraordinary. I never knew,” Archie said, shaking his head.
Lavinia looked at him in surprise.
“Really? You never knew your sister received a proposal? But didn’t Lord Bath ask your permission?” she said, but Archie shook his head.
“I didn’t even know they were acquainted, though Gwendolene would sometimes go with our mother to balls and soirees rather than allow me to accompany her. But a marriage proposal… it’s too extraordinary for words,” he said.
Lavinia nodded. She, too, was surprised, and given the strength of Lord Bath’s words, perhaps it was obvious what had happened.
“Do you think…” she said, a shiver running down her spine as she contemplated the man, she, too, had refused, being capable of murder.
“Well, she clearly refused him. A spurned lover, a jealous rage, a desire for revenge. You know what Lord Bath’s like, Lavinia—the rumors he’s spread about you. He’s not above such things…” Archie replied, a ponderous look now coming over his face, his eyes narrowing, as though now realizing he was right.
“No… perhaps…” Lavinia began, but Archie’s eyes now flashed with anger, and he clenched his fists.
