Like No Other

Chapter 17: Miss Davis Meets the Countess

                                                        Chapter 17

                                       Miss Davis Meets the Countess

        

        Little was seen of Mr Beaumont for the next few days, but speculations about the dire circumstances in which he’d sustained injuries were rife among the circles of his acquaintances. Their conjectures varied, but to the less imaginative minds it was hard to conjecture anything at all. For them it was inconceivable that the young Beaumont could be embroiled in a fight, for his was the most amiable of dispositions — who, pray, would stir quarrel with such an agreeable gentleman? The few who knew the real story were careful not to drop any hint at all; the rest who didn’t were left to devise their own versions. In desperation to glean the exact details, one nosy fellow had actually gone so far as to seek Lord Stokeford for them, but no sooner had he uttered Mr Beaumont’s name than he’d been interrupted by a blistering reply to mind his own bloody business. Several people who’d witnessed this exchange were of the same mind that it was a piece of foolhardy to ask the Earl of anything— most of all the troubles— that concerned his family, and it would be well-advised to drop the subject whenever he was nearby. The advise had been heeded well, and people gradually lost interest on the subject.

        Meanwhile, Miss Davis had been a prey to anxiety for Mr Beaumont’s condition after that dreadful night at Vauxhall. As was expected, the incident provoked a pother among the Suthertons and her relatives, and it took great pains to calm their frayed nerves. Caroline had seen fit to omit the part of Cedric, but told the rest of her story with remarkable lucidity, while Aunt Emelia listened with a threatening fits of the vapours, interrupting her with plentiful gasps and interjections to the end. She was grateful for the Suthertons, of course, but to Mr Beaumont she felt prodigiously indebted. Why, such heroic conduct was rarely found in the youngsters nowadays; to be sure, any ordinary young man would have acted less! The discussion was ended with a severe admonishment delivered to her niece, but when she’d retired for the night, Mrs Winscott could not but be pleased a little. She’d begun to nurse hopes that her niece might be making a brilliant match yet, and that encouraging thought somehow brought her an undisturbed sleep, however disagreeable the night had turned out to be.

        No such notion crossed Miss Davis’ mind though. Few days passed by, and Mr Beaumont’s promise to call on her was yet to be fulfilled. Aunt Emelia had been expectant for this visit, but when the young man did not seem inclined to put appearance anytime sooner, her anticipation diminished. She contented herself instead with the diversion offered by Mr Milborne who, unlike Mr Beaumont, had given every inclination to grace their drawing room with his presence every day. Caroline wasn’t at all pleased about it, but her resentments against Cedric were checked when it became apparent that his presence was the kernel of Sophie’s exuberance.

        This gave her some food for thought. She did for more than once try to tell Sophie of Cedric’s clandestine meeting in Vauxhall, but the words were prevented the instant they reached the tip of her tongue. Her mind was often in a muddle whenever she was assailed by conflicting thoughts. Would I tell Sophie? Of course! Do not let her be hoodwinked by pretenses! She frowned at this. And if they weren’t entirely pretenses? It is obvious that Cedric is smitten with Sophie!  Her subconscious made a derisive snort. Lud, no gentleman whose affections are solely fixed for one lady would even seek to dally with another! Why, it would be unscrupulous! But then, what do you know about men and love, Caroline? Nothing… Nothing… 

        Yes, she thought mournfully, she knew next to nothing about men and love, so why bother to interfere in her cousin’s — or in fact in anyone’s — own romances? “And what of yours, Caroline? You’ve been quite busy with other people’s that you’ve seemed to forget your own heart,” she reflected disapprovingly while taking a stroll in Hyde Park one afternoon. Too abstracted to admire her surroundings, she walked while prodding the ground with the tip of her parasol, and since her eyes were downcast, she didn’t glimpse the rider in claret coat and biscuit-hued breeches drew near to her.