One thing she knew for certain, however, was that the Earl of Callander had cared very little for the beau monde, had not been particularly entertaining and certainly had never been to London on any other previous occasion, save for the time he had come in search of a wife.
“I do not think my husband was very entertaining or humorous, Lord Hazelton,” she said, as primly as she could. “I knew him very well, of course, and found him to be very dull indeed. He did not often converse but rather spent his time in his study or his own rooms, doing whatever it was that he was so eager to do. In addition, he did not like the ton and only came to London for a very short time indeed.” She lifted one shoulder, thinking to herself that Lord Hazelton must be confused with someone other than her husband and chose not to state that her husband had not been to London more than once for fear of insulting the fellow. “But if you found him to be an interesting and engaging character, then I am glad.”
Lord Hazelton looked nonplussed for a moment. His bright blue eyes stared at her, his smile no longer present and his jaw a little slack.
“How very odd,” he murmured, presently. “I am quite sure that I recall being in your husband’s company and finding him to be very jovial. We were often at Whites together, although mayhap he did shun balls and soirees and the like.”
Bridgette frowned, then looked away. There was no need for them to discuss whether or not her late husband had been a decent character or not, for he was long in the grave and she did not need to think of him anymore. “Regardless of that,” she said, eager now to change the conversation and hoping that very soon, Lord Hazelton’s visit would be over, “I will say that I am glad you were acquainted with him, Lord Hazelton. It seems as though not many here in London knew of him.” This was, of course, simply because Lord Callander had only been in town a few short weeks but given that Bridgette simply wanted the conversation to turn to something entirely new, she chose not to pursue the matter.
Lord Hazelton’s eyes narrowed, his lips pulling tight. Bridgette, taken aback by this sudden change in Lord Hazelton’s demeanor, darted her gaze to the door and held it there, feeling as though a cold breeze had run across her arms.
“I think I must be entirely mistaken, Lady Callander,” Lord Hazelton said, after a few moments. “Either that, or you thought very ill of your husband and wish to ensure that I do not think well of him also.”
Her eyes shot back to his, her spine stiffening as she lifted her chin a notch. “I do not believe, Lord Hazelton, that you have any right to speak to me in such a manner,” she said sharply, expecting the gentleman to deflate a little and mayhap, to apologize, only for Lord Hazelton to shake his head and hold up one hand towards her, as though he wanted to silence the words that came from her mouth.
“I speak only of what I see before me, Lady Callander,” he said, his tone now a little ugly, his eyes burning and his brows knotted. “You say things of your husband that I know cannot be the truth, and yet you demand that I believe them!” He shook his head, as though he pitied her. “Lord Callander was one of the most excellent gentlemen in all of London, with a kind nature and a good humor,” he continued, as another protest burned on her lips. “His plans for his business were very sound indeed and whilst I was sorry not to — ” He stopped dead; a small twist of his lips and a distant look in his eyes told Bridgette that he was lost in past memories. “Upon occasion, I might suggest tha
t Lord Callander was a bit of a flirt, but only on the very rare occasion that we were with mixed company,” he continued, as Bridgette closed her eyes and shook her head, knowing full well that Lord Hazelton was becoming quite confused in what he said. No doubt, he was thinking of someone else entirely different but had mistaken him for Lord Callander.
“In short, Lady Callander, your late husband was the sort of gentleman I must hope one day to be,” he finished, with a flourish. “Good natured, good humored, filled with delightful conversation and always willing to explain his intentions for what he had planned — and he managed it all with ease and grace. I never once would have found him dull or dispirited. You are mistaken there, Lady Callander, although why you would speak such mistruths to a gentleman who knew your husband, I cannot say.”
So saying, he sat back in his chair and eyed her coldly, as if he expected her now to fall at his feet, to beg his forgiveness and to admit that yes, she had been doing just as he said.
Bridgette only smiled, shaking her head at him as she did so.
“Might I ask, Lord Hazelton, what you recall of my husband’s appearance?” she asked, knowing for certain that this would ensure that she knew whether or not he had made a mistake. “Would you describe him as somewhat aged?”
Lord Hazelton frowned hard, his gaze like ice. “Your husband was not an old man, Lady Callander.”
“I am aware of that,” she told him, primly, “but he had the appearance of age, given that he was always so dulled and quiet.” Seeing him about to protest, she held up one finger, silencing him. “The color of his hair?”
“Brown.”
She hesitated. “And his eyes? Was he rotund or thin? Tall or a little short?”
Lord Hazelton’s jaw worked for a moment, his eyes flashing, and she feared he might refuse to answer. Then, with a heavy sigh, he set his jaw and looked at her again.
“Your husband had green eyes, if I recall correctly,” he stated, quite firmly. “He was as tall as I and certainly not rotund by any means. In addition, he had a thick, full beard and moustache, which were tinged here and there with grey.” He cleared his throat. “I am sure of it.”
Bridgette let out a laugh at this, rising to her feet and waiting until Lord Hazelton did the same.
“Then I can assure you, Lord Hazelton, that you are quite mistaken,” she said, dropping into a quick curtsy. “My late husband had blue eyes, was only a little taller than I and certainly was not of a slim build, and nor did he have a beard nor a moustache! In short, my lord, I believe that you have him confused with someone else.” She arched one eyebrow at him, seeing his confusion as he looked at her with a furrowed brow but no anger now in his gaze. “Mayhap there is a Lord Callanish or a Lord Carrington that you might have confused with my late husband.”
“I do not think I have done so,” Lord Hazelton said, blinking rapidly as he dropped his eyes to the floor. “Lady Callander, the reason I came to call upon you was not to argue with you.”
Looking up into his face, Bridgette sighed inwardly and forced herself to smile at him again. “I am sure you did not intend to have such a heated discussion,” she said, practically. “For neither was that my intention.”
Lord Hazelton seemed to be struggling to find the right words to say, clearing his throat roughly as he tried to speak. “The fact is…..” He stopped. “The truth is, Lady Hazelton, I — ”
A scratch came to the door just as he was about to express something that Bridgette was quite sure she did not want to hear. Calling for the person to enter, she turned back to Lord Hazelton and dipped into another curtsy.
“I am sure we will have a much better conversation the next time we meet, Lord Hazelton,” she said, with as much sweetness as she could muster. “Until our next meeting.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the butler coming into the room, no doubt about to introduce yet another gentleman caller to her. With a small smile in Lord Hazelton’s direction, she turned bodily to face the butler, turning all of her attention onto whoever was next to come into the room.
“You have Lord Hessington come to call to you, my lady,” the butler said, with a small inclination of his head. “Will I ask him to come in?”
Bridgette glanced back at Lord Hazelton, who was frowning still, one hand rubbing between his brows as though he was trying to erase the confusion that grabbed at his mind.