The Gray Chamber Read online

  Lavinia grasped her hand. “I would be happy to aid you, Cousin.” She smiled over her cup, inhaling the steaming tendrils before taking another long draft. “Now, do you know Mr. Banebridge’s schedule outside of the fencing club?”

  Edyth blinked. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  Lavinia giggled behind her hand as the kitten wriggled out of her arms and landed with a plop on the settee. “Everything. When planning to wage a war for the heart, one must know where to strike first.”

  “I don’t wish to battle him,” she mumbled, but at Lavinia’s pointed stare, she sighed. “Bane always begins his day with a ride through Central Park. I know because I take rides there most mornings as well if I wake early enough to avoid the crowds.”

  Lavinia set aside her cup and clapped her hands. “Oh, that’s the perfect place for our first coincidental encounter.”

  “But don’t you think it a bit forward of me to ride after him and pretend to happen upon him?”

  Lavinia raised her brows, crossing her arms. “But don’t you normally happen upon him?”

  Edyth gave a shrug, still uncomfortable with the charade. “I suppose so, but—”

  “Then of course it is not forward.” Lavinia pulled Edyth up and strode around her, tapping her forefinger to her full lips. “Yes. I have just the thing, straight from Paris. Against your hair, it will be sure to catch Bane’s attention. He will think you are heaven-sent. It’s a good thing we are about the same size in every area besides height and uh …” She twisted her mouth and lifted her brows in a telling way. “Well, we can stuff your bodice if we need to, and as for the length of the skirt, it won’t be much of a problem with you being mounted, but be certain to stay atop your saddle lest you trip over the hem and betray that the dress was not made for you.”

  Still transfixed on that alarming detail, Edyth’s cheeks burned. “I hardly think it will be necessary to pad—”

  Lavinia tugged her out into the hallway and down three doors to her rooms. Within the hour, Edyth’s hair was puffed into an elaborate coiffure, perfectly coiled, her torso squeezed into a whalebone corset and thrust into Lavinia’s stylish crimson riding gown. The bodice was a great deal looser on her than Edyth thought it would be, and even though she repeatedly refused the scented powdered puffs that Lavinia insisted on stuffing into her gown, she eventually gave in to her cousin’s demands. She turned in front of the floor-length looking glass, her cheeks heating at the sight of her tucked and puffed figure. Lavinia deemed her a work of art and sent Edyth off to the park on her favorite horse.

  Perched atop her mount on a sidesaddle in the cumbersome gown, Edyth felt utterly ridiculous wearing something so fancy while riding, not to mention a corset and the unmentionable powdered puffs. If it were up to her, she would be wearing her split skirt even though it caused people to stare more than when she wore her fencing costume. She guided her horse across Fifth Avenue to Central Park, where she casually glanced about for Bane along his favored route. Spying his giant, dapple-gray stallion, she gave her gelding enough of a nudge to kick up his heels into a trot to catch up with Bane. She reined back a bit as her mount trotted up next to his. “Good morning, sir.”

  “Good morning, Miss—Edyth?” His voice was full of astonishment as he openly gawked at her.

  Edyth couldn’t help but laugh and toss her head flirtatiously as she had seen others do, thankful that Lavinia had secured the frilly riding hat in place. Undeniable admiration sparked in his expression. And she reveled in it. Finally.

  Bane glanced at her sideways again. He had always thought of Edyth as the young girl who had been sparring with him since she was fourteen years old. But, studying her profile, he was shocked to find that his friend was a beauty.

  She turned to him, her eyes alert as if she had heard his thoughts, causing him to feel more than a bit foolish for thinking of her as anything other than his longtime friend, especially after how he had behaved last night.

  He had showered Miss Birch with his attention at dinner and, at her sweet smiles, hope had begun to blossom in his heart of finding the one, but he quickly realized that Miss Birch gave her smiles freely to any face she deemed handsome. He felt his embarrassment keenly after seeing her waltz with that young doctor fellow and, of all things, allowing him to whisper in her ear at the end of the evening and press a possessive kiss atop her hand. He didn’t particularly think a lady should allow a gentleman such liberties after only knowing him for a single evening, or so it would seem … perhaps she knew him from before? But she didn’t betray their connection when introduced, and in his heart he knew the truth. A doctor was a far more desirable catch than a fencing master.

  Bane desired a lady who thought he was everything. That he was her world. He wanted to take care of her, to be needed. Once he’d had the foolishness to admit his longing to his older brothers, and they had mercilessly mocked him for sounding like a novel-reading woman, but after hearing of so many unhappy marriages from the men in his fencing club, he was even more determined to wait until he found that one person before proposing.

  “So, what did you think about my new cousin?”

  He cleared his throat and pulled at his neckcloth. Of course Edyth would bring up the one subject he didn’t wish to discuss.

  “You seemed quite taken with her last night,” she ventured, adjusting the brim of her little riding hat.

  “You thought I was taken with her?” he replied, trying to garner enough time to explain away his actions even though she was right. He had behaved like a schoolboy.

  She laughed, her dark eyes sparkling. “How could I not? I have never seen you so animated at one of my uncle’s parties.”

  “Well, sometimes I cannot see what is right in front of me until it is too late.”

  She tilted her head at him before smiling and moving the conversation to the safe ground of fencing.

  He felt like a traitor for having shown Miss Birch such attention last night and effectively ignoring his best friend, but with the morning sun flowing over Edyth’s raven hair and immaculate gown, he began to see her in a new light. Edyth shared his interests, which was more than Miss Birch had shown. When the second course had arrived and Miss Birch learned that he was merely a poor gentleman who must work at his club to support himself, her interest had waned, and she had brought up Edyth’s name multiple times before turning her attention to the doctor who was seated to her left. And though Miss Birch had danced with Bane a few times, he suspected it was only in recompense for her actions at dinner. Edyth would never be so callous or shallow. But, he could hardly blame the girl. Who would entertain a poor gentleman when a rich doctor was close by and would make for a fine husband?

  “You’re brooding again.” Edyth poked his shoulder with her riding crop. “Come, shall we race around the bend? It is early enough so that we won’t trample any pedestrians along this path, and open enough to spot them should they appear.”

  For his answer, Bane kicked his horse into a gallop, racing down the dirt path. Rounding the corner, they came upon a fallen tree from last night’s storm. He managed to slow his mount in time as Edyth soared over the lean tree, but her horse’s front hoof caught on a stray branch and stumbled in his landing, sending Edyth sailing over his head, a splash sounding.

  “Edyth!” Panic seared through him as he leapt off his horse, leaving his reins dangling to the ground, and vaulted over the log to find that she had landed in the pond. “Edyth, are you hurt?”

  She pushed herself back onto her knees and laughed, wiping her sleeve over her face and streaking the mud speckled across her cheeks to her disheveled hairline. “Poor dress never stood a chance with me,” she muttered. She moved to stand but at once slipped to her elbows.

  “Hold on. Let me help you.” Bane yanked off his jacket and tossed it over a branch. Wading into the murky water, he inadvertently stepped into a hole and drew in a sharp breath at the biting cold seeping in the top of his boot. He would have to make this qui
ck or risk freezing. He dug his heels into the bank and held out his hand to assist her. She gripped his forearm, but when she tugged to pull herself free from the muck securing her to the pond floor, his heel slipped and he plummeted to his side, the scum sloshing over them.

  “Bane!” Edyth squealed, flicking her hands free.

  Bane chuckled as he looked at Edyth. The perfection of her ensemble had vanished, but the unfamiliarity of knowing his friend was beautiful remained. He reached out and smoothed a lock of hair from her dark eyes and smiled, but a bit of mud met his tongue and he gagged, sending him spitting to the side and giving Edyth an apologetic grimace. “I suppose we should go ahead and submerse ourselves completely to rinse away the mud?”

  Her teeth chattered behind her smile while she rubbed her hands over her soaked sleeves. “If it were summer, I would say I’m all for a nice swim in the duck’s retiring room, but I think I’d rather be muddy and partially dry than drenched in scented pond scum.”

  “Well, when you put it like that it doesn’t sound better.” He laughed as she hiked up her skirts, exposing a well-turned ankle, and stepped toward the shore, slipping despite her caution.

  He averted his eyes and took her elbow. “You had best allow me to assist you, else you risk taking another tumble from your waterlogged skirts.”

  “I suppose it was rather foolish to wear something other than my split skirt.” She gave him a sheepish smile.

  Bane shrugged. “I found your new gown rather charming.”

  “Oh?”

  “Found as in past tense.” Bane laughed and wrapped his arm about her slender waist. He hefted them to shore while a woman parking her pram watched them with pursed lips and two gentlemen caught their escaped mounts. Once safely ashore, Bane released Edyth and retrieved his jacket and the horses with a nod of thanks to the gentlemen. Returning with the horses in tow, he draped his jacket over her shoulders and whispered, “Judging from the shocked faces in this group, we are going to get some marvelous stares on the way back to Fifth Avenue.”

  “Good thing I am impervious to them by now.” Edyth laughed as the sound of hoofbeats caused them both to turn and find Miss Birch riding up with Doctor Hawkins at her side. Edyth lifted her gaze heavenward and mumbled something that sounded like, “Why, Lord? Why must You call my bluff? I admit it! I actually do care what some people think of me.”

  He ran a hand over his jaw to suppress his laughter at her utterance and Lavinia’s expression.

  Lavinia gasped. “What on earth, Edyth?”

  Edyth busied herself with wringing out her hem in what he believed was an attempt to ignore the question, so Bane stepped forward. “It was entirely my fault, Miss Birch. I goaded her into racing at such a breakneck speed.”

  Lavinia pressed her lips into a thin line, looking remarkably like her mother. “I’m sure it did not take much coaxing for our dear Edyth to be convinced that it was indeed a sound idea.” She tugged at the reins as her mount threw back its head, stamping its hoof and snorting as if eager to be on its way. “But, despite your current circumstances, it is fortuitous that we happened upon you two. Roger invited me to dinner with him, but as I had already made my mind up to dine with Edyth tonight, perhaps you, Mr. Banebridge, could join us for a fourth at Delmonico’s?”

  “I would be honored,” Bane replied, extending a hand to Edyth. “If you are willing?”

  She gave him that smirk again and nodded, creating wondrous flutters in his stomach. “You know I am always in the mood to eat, especially at my favorite restaurant.”

  The servants’ entrance was unusually busy with deliveries of massive crates marked for her aunt, so despite the mud caking her person, Edyth decided to take the main entrance. She paused in the marble foyer to hand the ruined riding hat to Harrison, who merely shook his head. “Oh miss. I’m afraid your aunt has company and will be most upset—” He snapped his mouth shut and bowed as her aunt exited the parlor and gasped upon sight of Edyth.

  “Gentlemen, do come out and see what we have to deal with on a daily basis, and please, tell me my arguments are not valid.”

  Edyth’s jaw dropped, and with widened eyes, she ran her hands down her skirt, whacking in vain at the dirt clinging to her gown. “Why on earth would you call people to come see me when I look like this? I’m hardly ready to receive guests. If you would only give me a moment to change—”

  But she didn’t have a moment. Two middle-aged gentlemen, one with thick-rimmed glasses and one with a pencil poised above his notepad, stepped into the foyer from the parlor. The two men from the party? Why are they here again?

  “Does this look like a healthy young woman of sound mind to you?” Mrs. Foster threw her hands in front of herself, gesturing to Edyth’s gown.

  “What are you talking about? Why are these men here and not at the asylum?” Edyth resisted the urge to cross her arms over her chest as the men’s stares roved freely over her.

  “Because they, as my personal friends, came as a favor to me. I could not trust anyone else with something so sensitive.” Uncle Boris appeared from the parlor, his fingers tugging the end of his mustache. “Well, gentlemen, I believe you now have enough proof to support what my wife and I have been saying. Shall we adjourn and discuss the diagnosis?”

  Diagnosis? Edyth stepped forward, her heart hammering with concern. She was in perfect health, but she had noticed her uncle’s ever-present cough had grown steadily worse in recent weeks. While she had never been close to her father’s brother, she did not wish to lose her last remaining link to her father’s people. “Uncle, are you unwell?” Why else would he summon doctors from Blackwell’s Island when he had access to the best of care in the city?

  Mrs. Foster pressed a hand to the back of Edyth’s soaked gown, nudging her toward the stairs. “This is not the time to discuss such things.”

  “She does show signs of erratic behavior. I mean, look at the state of her,” one of the doctors mumbled.

  Edyth cringed, feeling her temper rising to the occasion. Gripping her riding crop in both hands, she breathed in before slowly turning and planting a fist to her corseted waist, the wretched thing making it difficult to draw a full breath. “Excuse me? How dare you come into my house and address me so rudely?”

  The men twisted their lips, and the scrivener of the pair jotted down something.

  “What on earth are you writing? I did not give you permission to quote me.” She moved to snatch the notebook out of his hands, but her uncle lifted his hand, stopping her.

  “I think you must agree with me, Doctors. She is as mad as they come.” Mrs. Foster clasped her hands in front of her pristine skirts, a gleam in her expression that Edyth had never seen before.

  “Mad?” Edyth clenched her jaw and turned to face Mrs. Foster. “If anyone is mad, it is you for bringing doctors into my house to accuse me of being out of my mind.”

  Uncle Boris placed a hand on his wife’s arm and drew her behind him as if Edyth would use the riding crop on the woman. “Now, Edyth, you mustn’t grow hysterical.”

  “You have to admit that it is rather strange for you, who have never shown any interest in gowns, to suddenly dress in a Parisian riding ensemble,” Mrs. Foster piped up from behind her husband’s shoulder. “Which you have now seen fit to ruin in one outing. Madness!”

  Edyth ran a hand over her eyes in an attempt to squelch her growing agitation lest she prove their claims true. “That’s because Lavinia dressed me this morning. Really, it is absurd that you would make such wild accusations because I have taken an interest in something as simple as a fashionable gown.”

  Uncle Boris patted her on the arm. “Of course. Now, why don’t you change, and we can discuss this more in private.” He leaned forward and whispered into her ear, his breath reeking of port. “These men are not here to evaluate you, my dear. They are here for your aunt, but please, do not say a word to anyone until it is time for her to be taken. I would hate to cause Lavinia any undue stress if Mrs. Foster is found
sane … and if she is not, I do not wish her to become violent.”

  With those words, Edyth’s anger turned from the doctors and toward her uncle as she peeked at the wide-eyed woman behind him. She lifted her lips to his ear, keeping her voice low. “Uncle, don’t you think you are being rash? While she may have a temper, she is as sane as you and I, and to even contemplate such a thing is not only unwarranted, but utterly ridiculous and cruel.”

  His gaze narrowed. “This is obviously not the time to discuss this. Promise me you will not create a scene?”

  She quirked a brow. “Of course not, Uncle, but we will discuss it?”

  At his nod, she stepped back and gave the group a smile. “My apologies, gentlemen and Auntie. If you will excuse me, I have an engagement and must retire to dress. Please enjoy some refreshments before you depart.”

  Chapter Three

  The sight of the stars makes me dream.

  ~ Vincent van Gogh

  Dressed in a gold gown that fairly sparkled in the candlelight of Delmonico’s, Edyth held herself just so, aware of her padded front as she took a seat beside Bane at the small round table in the corner of the narrow restaurant. Since the powdered puffs had remained firmly in place even after taking a fall from a horse, she was a bit more confident in her enhanced figure and even added more powder, as the scent was delightful.

  Aching from her bruises, Edyth perched on her seat and eagerly awaited the soup to warm her body from the lingering chill from this morning’s soaking. And as Lavinia kept the conversation flowing, Edyth’s mind kept drifting to her odd encounter with her uncle and aunt.

  In her hysteria, Mrs. Foster had revealed that she considered Edyth a nuisance, even though she was living under Edyth’s roof … well, it would legally be her roof on her twenty-fifth birthday. Until then, Uncle Boris still had control of her assets and her home, but with only four months to go, one would think that her aunt would want to be a bit friendlier considering Edyth held the entirety of the family’s fortune in her hands. As the second son, Uncle Boris only inherited a small portion of the family’s wealth, and while he had not shown any bitterness over that fact, it seemed that Mrs. Foster did harbor a great deal and was set on poisoning any love Boris felt for Edyth. But why would he try to have his wife committed? Does he truly fear I will turn him out once I have access to my wealth because of her dislike for me? It was the only reason she could come up with that explained her uncle’s wish to commit his bride of only six months. At first, Mrs. Foster had seemed to have a fondness for Edyth, yet, in recent weeks, she had grown excessively rude. Despite her aunt’s hostility, Edyth wouldn’t forget the man who raised her. He was family, and while Uncle Boris had never told her that he loved her, she hoped that he returned her affection.