me for my passion with herbs and that book. Everyone wondered why Lord Conisbrough sent it to me. I had no answers for them, and I didn’t attempt any. Serena said I probably reminded him of his mother. I was at first hurt by that statement, then I didn’t care, for I felt that any woman who could write such a beautiful volume must have been a fantastic creature."
She poured water into a washbowl, added a few drops of a fragrant oil from one of the many bottles that lined her vanity, and splashed her face, neck, and arms, luxuriating in the feel of the cool water on her skin. "Hand me that towel, will you please, Jane? Shouldn’t you be getting ready, too?"
"Yes, but I’m not leaving until I hear the end of the tale. If you do not tell me now, I fear my active imagination shall construct all manner of wild tales to end your story. "
Her aunt laughed. "Well, we can’t have that, can we? All right, as quick as possible." She dried her face and went over to sit on the edge of her bed. Jane joined her.
"By the time the new season began, I was anxious to see him. As it was, I was back in London three weeks before we met again. Three of the longest weeks of my life. Immediately he took me aside to ask how I liked his mother’s journal. Naturally, I raved about it. I don’t know how long we talked—or rather, how long I talked and he listened; but afterwards I was chided for spending such an unconscionable amount of time with him. I was told his manners were too polite to allow him to walk away. No doubt I bored him completely."
"Who—Why—Please don’t tell me you believed this!" Jane expostulated.
"It did shake me," Lady Elsbeth conceded. "The next time we met, I was very quiet and shy. Painfully so. The last thing I wanted was to give him a disgust of me. Finally he asked me what was the matter, did I no longer desire his company? Had he disgusted me in some way? Horrified, I told him no! I told him what family members had advised me. He was angry. Frighteningly angry. He let me know that the time I’d spent with him had been the most enjoyable interlude he’d known in a long time. In fact, he wanted to spend more time with me. He asked me to go driving with him the next day. I was ecstatic. Then I was warned, quite kindly I thought, that he was using my innocence to redeem himself with society for his jaded existence. I was hurt. Not having great confidence in myself, I believed that."
"Oh, no, Elsbeth!"
Lady Elsbeth laughed. "When I look back now, I am awed at my naiveté. I kept our relationship very formal, for I was afraid of being hurt. During that time I was told that he was currently supporting two mistresses in different establishments. That he had no intention of changing his life-style. He was merely in the market for a quiet, biddable wife. I didn’t want to believe that. I was even driven by one of the mistress’s houses. Another time, while at the theater, I had one of the women pointed out to me and I heard some young men joke about Black Jack’s good taste. Then one day he came to speak with Father. Afterward Father called me into his study and left me alone with him. I was astonished. That was when Lord Conisbrough proposed to me."
"Elsbeth!"
Her aunt smiled sadly. "I was confused, distraught. I loved him so, and I wanted to be loved as strongly in return. I was not willing to share him with even one other woman. I formally and coldly turned him down. Afterwards I went upstairs and cried myself to sleep. Later, still bleary-eyed, I went downstairs. Father didn’t understand what went on, but he knew I was miserable. To cheer me up he suggested we all go to Vauxhall Gardens. It was a more acceptable place to go back then. As it happened, Lord Conisbrough was there. He was stern and forbidding in appearance, sarcastic in speech. I was never so miserable. He said he wanted to talk to me. I felt I owed him at least that. We went off down one of the many dark walks at Vauxhall. He accused me of leading him on, of playing the innocent, of