Charlotte stood up and went to try to mend fences. The Lynch sisters and the Fitzsimmons girls retreated to the corners of the rooms with Monroe, Mitchell and Parks in tow. Eventually the Teague brothers returned, but they certainly looked grim.
At length Elizabeth said to her brother quietly, "I don't understand why is everyone acting so oddly. Anyone would think to hear them that you and the Rakehells, Stewart and Mr. Joyce, had done something wrong by going off to fight. How can they be so petty and ungrateful?"
Thomas shook his head. "They don't understand, and they don't wish to know. It's like Charlotte and Pamela. They would never have wanted to know about the more seamy side of the world if they had not had it thrust upon them. I'm only sorry that you have had it thrust upon you."
Will started guiltily at these words. "I beg your pardon, Lady Elizabeth, if any of the jibes which were directed at me have caused you offense. I should go before I risk driving any more of your guests away."
Fitzsimmons was delighted at the prospect of getting Elizabeth alone, but she said, "No, I was not distressed by you, but for you. Please, I would not wish you to leave, you or your sister," she added, as Vevina stood up to take his arm and lead him away from the circle.
"No, really, it's kind of you, but you have other guests who seem to share a similar opinion of us."
She placed one hand firmly on his shoulder. He could feel the contact sizzling along his spine and gasped aloud. He could hardly hear what she was saying as the blood pounded in his ears.
"Yes, except that as hostess I am duty bound to make everyone feel welcome. I'm sorry if I have been remiss. I'm accustomed to deferring to my brother. But if Ellesmere Manor is to be mine, I must set the tone. I would like you all to stay for supper, Mr. Joyce. Anyone who does not choose to sit down with my cousin and his wife and friends may leave."
Fitzsimmons plopped himself down on the sofa with a martyred air. "As a cousin I feel duty bound to remain, but if one more person mentions the war or politics I shall scream."
Elizabeth nodded. "Very well, then. Vanessa, would you do us the honor of sitting down at the pianoforte? Clifford, a duet if you please?"
The couple obeyed with alacrity, and all was calm in the large elegant blue and gold drawing room once more.
"Thank you for allowing me to stay," Will said quietly a short time later, when he could breathe again.
"Think nothing of it. I'm only sorry I did not intervene sooner."
"I would like to tell you—"
But Parks came up and took her arm, and was already leading her away to favor them with a performance of her own.
Both Fitzsimmons and Will had to grit their teeth as the younger man took away the lithe young beauty for his own.
In some senses, however, Parks advanced both their causes, for Elizabeth became more and more certain that Parks could not have been the man in the cave. The very idea of him being in anything other than an elegant drawing room was laughable, though she knew that this was also a misleading impression. Parks was a highly decorated officer. He had not got those ribbons and medals by sitting at home or safely at a desk job at Horse Guards.
"So, sir, did you earn your commissions?" she asked as they moved toward the piano.
"After my ensigncy, yes. All of them. One thing about being under Stewart and Will, you don't get to hang about at the back. However much one might wish to."
He flashed her a warm smile and seated her on the bench. They sang a marvelous duet in Italian that had almost everyone in the room in raptures.
Marcus Fitzsimmons seethed. How he hated the young buck who was so determined to show off in every way.
Will sighed. How could any woman like Elizabeth ever fancy him in comparison with Parks, who was like a breath of spring air in any company? Unlike my wintry gusts, he thought to himself bleakly.
He did not begrudge Parks; he knew he was a naturally superior and outgoing young man, someone he was proud to consider as close as a brother during the past three years.
Nay, more than a brother. A bosom companion, even more so than Stewart in some senses, partly because of the age difference, and the fact that he and Parks had served so closely together ever since Cuidad Roderigo.
No, if Parks was his brother, then Stewart was his father now that his own had been so tragically lost. They had formed a new family in the Peninsula, one that he would fight and die for. And wanted only the best for. He could not blame Parks if he ran the course and seized the prize. For she was certainly a prize worth having.
After the duet was completed, Elizabeth asked if anyone else would like to join her for a song.