“I beg your pardon. I have been remiss. Father’s death left a vacancy that I am finding it difficult to fill. However, I am here now. Thank you for receiving me.”
“Is that the only reason you have come to call on us?” Blanche asked, her eyes large in the pale blue shadows between brow and cheekbone.
Darrius found himself fascinated by the childlike nakedness of her face, and by her pallor.
Was she truly ill after all? Had the powder and rouge been hiding a deeper malady?
Aloud, he replied, “I will own that I am on an errand for my mother. She has written to extend her apologies for upsetting you. I would like to add my own apologies to hers.” So saying, he took the folded, sealed missive from his pocket and passed it to Lady Carleton.
“I want to read it in private,” the lady said. “Perhaps the two of you would like to take a turn in the garden?”
“I can think of nothing better,” Darrius said, bowing to the ladies, first the mother, then the daughter.
“Of course, Mother,” Blanche said. “We shall leave you alone.”
Blanche led the way from the drawing room to a small rose garden. A basket, a pair of gloves, and a pair of shears sat on a bench near a small fountain. The water bubbled up and flowed gently out of an upper stone basin into a lower one.
“An artesian well?” Darrius asked.
“Of course,” Blanche replied. “Do you not remember falling into it? Your father was quite wroth with you, as I recall.”
“As I recall,” Darrius retorted, “You pushed me into it.”
“So I did. You were insufferable at ten years of age.”
“So were you.”
They stood in silence for a few minutes. “I owe the Duchess an apology,” Blanche said.
“For what?” Darrius asked.
“For taking her physician’s advice badly. Mother does not know this, but I went back to him yesterday.”
“You did?”
“Yes. I stopped taking the draughts prescribed by the London physician, but I felt terrible. I took to my bed for a couple of days, then my maid found me thrashing about uncontrollably. Dr. Alton was the nearest physician I could consult, so my maid and I slipped out without Mother.”
“Did you, indeed?” Darrius felt a rising degree of respect for his intended.
Blanche nodded. “Dr. Alton said that if I was being dosed in the manner he suspected, that I was fortunate to have gotten off with only a light fit. He prescribed a different draught, just to still the shakes. Then a different one still which he said would build my system. Both taste vile, but I am feeling better.”
“That is splendid. I was worried about you,” Darrius said. “You had a great deal of spunk when we were children.”
“Thank you.”
They walked on for several minutes. “Have you come to any means of solving your pecuniary difficulties?” Blanche asked.
“I have a matter in mind. More importantly, it looks as if the crops will be good this year, which means that the rents will be paid on the fields and shops.”
They walked a little more.
“What about your parents?” Darrius asked. “How are they faring?”
“Now that I have persuaded Mother to discharge the London physician, I believe they will do well enough. My dowry is invested in long-term affairs, and it will be some years before it can be touched.”
“Then it is likely that we can decide rationally whether to continue this engagement or to mercifully terminate it without devastating either of our prospects.”
“Should we do so, Darrius?” Blanche turned that frank, child-like face up to him.