A Highly Respectable Marriage

by Sheila Walsh

  There was that silkiness in his voice now. It made her say hurriedly: ‘I daresay it was not … that is, it may have looked a little misleading, but …’

  ‘Only to those who do not know you.’ The music began and his fingers tightened on her wrist. ‘We must demonstrate that you are now quite well again.’

  ‘Oh, no! I don’t want to dance. I didn’t mean to before! I just want to go home,’ she pleaded.

  His smile was a travesty. ‘Unfortunately we cannot always do as we want, madam wife. Since you have chosen to break with custom, we will dance, if you please, and you will appear at least to enjoy it.’

  The remainder of the evening was unrelieved misery, though she did her best not to show it. But the journey home was much worse. Heron could not be brought to talk about what had happened and, when she persisted, said tersely, ‘Not now.’

  At Heron House he tossed his hat and cane to the waiting footman and without pausing in his stride carried on to the library with Pandora half running to keep up with him, her sense of guilt fast turning to grievous injustice. He waited for the door to close.

  ‘Now,’ he said, turning, ‘I will hear your explanation.’

  ‘And if I don’t choose to give you one?’ she returned pugnaciously.

  He looked momentarily surprised, but his expression hardened again almost at once. ‘Impertinence won’t help matters.’

  ‘I don’t mean to be impertinent, Robert,’ she cried. ‘But I deeply resent being treated like a halfwit child. I am your wife!’

  ‘Precisely. And when my wife behaves little better than a back-street trollop, I believe I am entitled to an explanation.’

  She recoiled as though he had struck her. ‘Is that how you saw me?’

  ‘It is how many people saw you, my dear,’ he said harshly. ‘I was obliged to suffer several oh, so innocent inquiries as to whether you were now out of black gloves, together with much speculation about Captain Austin ‒ was he a friend from your Army days, or even a relation, perhaps, since you were clearly on such familiar terms with him?’

  ‘Oh no!’

  His lip curled. ‘I suppose the uniform proved an irresistible lure, your partiality for all things military ‒ and handsome young officers in particular ‒ being what it is …’

  ‘That is unfair, and untrue!’ She remembered the letter. ‘If you are referring to Hugo … well, I have known him forever, and he is just … Hugo!’

  ‘Do you say so?’ There was mild disbelief in the words. ‘Then I am forced to conclude that your recent popularity has gone to your head and has led you to believe that you may do as you choose. Certainly the girl I knew, the girl I married, would never have disported herself in such a fashion!’

  He had hurt her deeply; it showed in the pallor of her face where the rouge stood out starkly, vying with her freckles for prominence. He wanted to sweep her into his arms, to tell her he didn’t mean any of it, that he was a jealous fool ‒ but there was a frightening, untouchable dignity about her which warned him not to try.

  ‘I never wanted fine clothes,’ she said over the constriction in her throat, ‘or to mix with your society friends. But, as you remarked earlier, we cannot always choose what we want and it would be dishonest to say that I have not enjoyed these past days. But it is becoming clearer to me with every minute that I should never have married you.’

  ‘Now you are being absurd beyond measure,’ he said stiffly.

  ‘No! I’m facing facts,’ she cried. ‘I told you I shouldn’t know how to go on as a duchess and tonight has proved it. Perhaps it was the uniform that drew me to Captain Austin. He reminded me of … of someone …’

  Greville, thought Heron savagely. That damned letter!

  ‘But that isn’t really important,’ she continued doggedly. ‘You see, you weren’t angry because what I did was so terrible. Oh, it was silly, but from what little I’ve seen, ladies frequently behave foolishly without being unduly censured. What infuriated you, my lord Duke, was that my conduct made you an object of ridicule before your friends! Oh, I don’t blame you for it, but I can’t guarantee not to let you down again, for I cannot change what I am.’ She forced herself to look him in the eye ‒ and rather wished that she had not. ‘And so the sooner I go back to Clearwater the better.’

  ‘I see. You mean to turn tail and run?’ he drawled derisively. ‘Very heroic! And what, pray, do you hope to achieve? Sneak away now and you’ll play right into the tattle-mongers’ hands. It will delight them to be able to say that I have turned you off.’ He saw the look on her face and added with quiet fury: ‘Stubborn little fool! Can’t you see that it’s you I am thinking of, not myself?’

  Pandora sighed. ‘I’m tired. I can’t think any more tonight.’

  He shrugged angrily, and made no attempt to stop her as she walked to the door, saying only as she left: ‘If you won’t consider yourself, think of William. He has been looking forward for weeks to the celebrations. Will you now spoil things for him?’

  Lady Sarah was less than pleased when the world failed to fall about Pandora’s ears. When she saw the couple at the theatre on the following evening, and later at an exclusive supper party behaving as though nothing had happened, she was furious. She accused Arthur and his friend of bungling, and refused to pay one penny of Captain Austin’s debts until they redeemed themselves.

  But the captain vowed that he would not lift one finger more to contribute to Pandora’s discomfiture. He was not usually troubled by conscience, but her grey eyes wide with distress had risen to reproach him more often than he cared to admit. So Lady Sarah could keep her money, and he would find some other way to replenish his funds.

  ‘Well, that’s that,’ said Arthur, secretly relieved that his sister’s plans had been thwarted.

  ‘Fool!’ she said, her mind already busy. ‘You don’t think I mean to let it go at that, do you?’ And as he stared, ‘For a start, I want Captain Austin followed. If I am not mistaken, he is riddled with the kind of stupid quixotic gallantry that will drive him to see that girl again to tell her all! If he does, they must both disappear …’

  Her brother looked at her as though she had gone mad. ‘What are you driving at, Sal? Disappear?’

  Her sapphire eyes were jewel-hard. ‘It’s very simple, brother dear. I want them got rid of ‒ permanently. There are ways of arranging such things. And the world ‒’ she smiled ‘‒ including Robert, will suppose that they have run off together.’

  Pandora was amazed to discover that one could actually go through the motions of living ‒ could converse with reasonable liveliness and lucidity, laugh when required to do so, eat sufficient to avoid comment, even sleep if one were tired enough ‒ and yet feel utterly dead inside.

  She had no way of knowing how Robert felt. Since the night of their quarrel, he had made little attempt to communicate, though in public he played the indulgent husband with conviction enough to deceive the most prurient eye. At home, too, he was careful to keep up appearances, especially in front of William, but somehow he contrived never to be alone with her.

  Perhaps he thought her too light-minded to care deeply about what had happened. If he did there was no way she could convince him otherwise and to sink into a despair would be despicably poor-spirited, though there were moments when his increasingly long absences during the day brought her close to it.

  Fitz was unfailingly kind and supportive, providing his willing escort when needed and never once embarrassing her with awkward questions, though he was clearly puzzled by the situation. Whether he said anything to Heron, she wasn’t sure, but their manner towards one another seemed a little cooler than was usual. Several times it was on the tip of her tongue to ask, for it grieved her to think she might have caused a rift between them, but it wasn’t easy to ask Fitz anything if he didn’t wish to be asked.

  William helped by just being William. His mind was so often preoccupied with higher things that he was seldom sensitive to the moods and whims of others. So he was
very much taken aback when, having inquired of Pandora for the third time in as many minutes whether she was not taking him to watch Mr Oliver try out the latest improvements he had made to his new balloon as she had promised, she snapped his head off.

  ‘Well, I wish you’d have said if you didn’t want to be bothered,’ he declared with an air of justifiable grievance. ‘I could have gone with Mr Oliver, if I’d known, but he’ll have left ages ago! And Heron isn’t here either. I must say, he seems to be out a great deal just lately. Still, I ’spect Dukes have a great many calls on their time.’

  To his consternation he saw the sudden tears standing out in his sister’s eyes. ‘Oh, Lord, ’dora ‒ it’s not like you to be a watering pot.’

  ‘No. Idiotish of me!’ Pandora forced a laugh. ‘Too many late nights, I expect. Of course I’ll take you. Go and ask Grimble to put the horses to … oh, the landaulet, I think, as it’s such a nice day, and I’ll fetch my hat and a parasol.’

  ‘Look, you don’t have to come if you don’t feel up to it.’ William, much chastened and thus disposed to be generous, couldn’t forbear to add hopefully, ‘Except that it might be just the thing if you’re feeling glumpish!’

  He couldn’t for the life of him think why she gave him such a bear hug. Girls were very odd sometimes.

  As they drove through Green Park the sounds of hammering echoed above the many other clamorous noises as workmen put the final touches to a pavilion being erected outside Buckingham House from where the Prince Regent and his guests would be guaranteed an uninterrupted view of the Jubilee celebrations two days hence.

  The press had made alarming predictions of the drunkenness and rioting which would accompany the affair and, like many other people, Fitz thought the whole thing excessively vulgar, just what one would expect of Prinny, but William had no such qualms. He was full of happy expectation, and chattered nonstop about the latest titbits he had gleaned, so that Pandora had only to listen as they made their way to the field a little way out of town where Mr Oliver was conducting his tests. As William clambered down he pointed eagerly to the casks standing close to the balloon, a hosepipe extending to the gently wafting silk bag.

  ‘I say! We’re only just in time. It looks as though he intends an ascent very soon!’

  William found Mr Oliver deep in an argument with his assistant over the latest refinement he had made to the valve which he was certain would do away with any danger of it sticking at the crucial moment. He greeted William with a smile and, seeing the landaulet standing a little way off, said, ‘I do hope your sister will pardon me if I don’t come to greet her just now.’

  ‘Yes, of course she will. She can see how occupied you are. Do you mean to take it up?’ William asked, hopping at his side. ‘Can I come too?’

  Mr Oliver looked doubtful, but was soon won over and sent William to ask Pandora if it would be all right and, if so, to assure her that he would deliver her brother safe home afterwards.

  ‘But you will wait and see me go up, won’t you, ’dora?’

  She smiled and agreed, adjured him not to be a nuisance and told him to hurry back, for the bag was already filling up fast, swelling into an enormous sphere of vivid banded colours shimmering in the sunlight. She and Grimble watched as William climbed into the brightly painted boat beneath, the securing ropes were released and the balloon soared majestically upwards. She saw his hand waving and waved back.

  ‘Oh, it does look quite splendid, does it not?’

  ‘Very impressive, I’m sure, your grace,’ admitted Grimble, his head craning upwards to follow the balloon’s progress. Already it seemed frighteningly high.

  ‘William says they can reach as much as two thousand feet.’

  ‘Is that a fact?’ Grimble sniffed. ‘Well, no offence, ma’am, but give me good solid earth any day. If the good Lord had meant us to fly, I reckon as he’d have given us the wherewithal to do it proper.’

  Pandora watched the fast-diminishing sphere and shuddered faintly. ‘Yes, I feel rather that way myself,’ she confessed. ‘But I wouldn’t dream of admitting as much to my brother.’

  There seemed little point in remaining where they were any longer, but before she could voice the thought her ear picked up the heavy thud of hooves coming fast towards the bend in the path which skirted the small copse at their backs.

  ‘Someone in a hurry,’ she said.

  A moment later the rider came into view and with a stab of irritation she saw that it was Captain Austin. ‘Drive on, Grimble,’ she said clearly.

  ‘Ma’am.’ Grimble acknowledged the command and moved to pick up the reins.

  ‘Ah, thank goodness!’ the Captain exclaimed, drawing alongside. ‘I saw you leaving town and feared that by the time I was saddled up you’d be gone. I must speak to you ‒ there is something you should know ‒’

  ‘I’m sorry, but there can be nothing I wish to hear, sir. You will oblige me by going away at once.’

  ‘No, wait!’ he said urgently. ‘Please, I beg of you, ma’am ‒ hear me out!’ Swiftly he dismounted, looped his horse’s rein over the back of the carriage, and was at the door before she could deny him further. ‘No trickery, I promise you!’

  Pandora was flustered. He looked so contrite … so full of entreaty that she hesitated, looked at Grimble who held the ribbons at the ready, decided that his very solid presence was protection enough and said, ‘Oh, very well. You had better come up, though I cannot see what you hope to gain from this intrusion.’

  He had hauled himself into the carriage almost before she was finished speaking, and was saying earnestly, ‘Nothing, I swear ‒ except perhaps your better opinion of me. Yes, I know,’ he said as her head lifted, ‘I behaved despicably, but I had no idea … it was only later I learned that I had been an unwitting pawn in a jealous woman’s vile scheme to bring ruin upon you!’

  This sounded so like high melodrama to Pandora that she was inclined to smile, except that as he cast a soldier’s eye over the surrounding terrain there was something in his listening stillness that stirred the hairs on the back of her neck as of old.

  ‘Do you think we could get moving?’ he said uneasily. ‘We’re a mite too exposed here for my liking.’

  The words were hardly out when violence erupted without warning. A small band of hard-faced men burst from the copse and were upon them before Pandora could do more than cry out. Grimble had no time to raise the horse pistol he always kept in readiness; the burliest of the men made short work of him with a sickening blow across the head which felled him instantly.

  Pandora was too angry to heed her fright; she beat the man furiously about the head and shoulders with her parasol, gouging a rent in his cheek with the ferrule until with an oath he wrenched it from her grasp, broke it in two with insolent ease and tossed it away, pushing her back at the same time into a heap on the seat.

  Captain Austin was faring little better. He was very much hampered by the lurching carriage as the horses shied and reared in panic while his own horse, pulling the opposite way, was also rearing in an effort to free itself. In struggling to keep his feet, he was no match for the assailants and very soon suffered the same fate as Grimble.

  Pandora, very much alone now, was prey to a terrible feeling of helplessness. The man who had struck Captain Austin pushed past his slumped figure to sit beside her; another climbed in at the other side and clamped an arm about her, containing her resistance with good-natured proficiency.

  ‘Easy does it, Duchess! Meself, I don’t hold with striking ladies, but Harry, now ‒ ’e ain’t arf so perticler!’

  The big man had settled himself on the box, pushing Grimble’s inert body over the side with one heavily booted foot; the thud as the groom hit the ground made Pandora gasp with a shared agony.

  Suddenly all was quiet again. The Captain’s mount had struggled free and run off, the man on the box had the reins in his hand and the one holding the horses let them go and leaped up to join him.

  ‘What do you want wi
th us?’ Pandora, drawing on the experience of years of surviving tight corners, fought down hysteria to speak calmly.

  The least hostile of their captors shrugged. ‘Not for me to know or to say, Duchess. Just doin’ what we’re paid for.’

  ‘Stow magging and manging back there, Joss!’ growled the burly man, whipping up the horses. ‘You too, lady, if you don’t want a touch of the home-brewed!’

  Pandora grimaced, and glanced across at the captain who lay against the side squabs, alarmingly pale and still, blood gently oozing from a gash across his temple. She took a handkerchief from the pocket of her dress and looked steadily at the man named Joss. ‘May I staunch his wound? I won’t try anything stupid.’ Her glance lifted for a moment to the balloon floating high and free against the blue sky and her mouth crooked in a faint wry smile. ‘After all, there really isn’t anywhere I can go, is there?’

  Chapter Sixteen

  Heron was in the Yellow Saloon with Mr Chessington, the latter ensconced in a comfortable wing chair watching his friend prowl the room. They were perilously close to quarrelling when William burst in upon them, all mud, freckles and eagerness.

  ‘Oh, hello. Is ’dora back yet, do you know? Only she’ll be wanting to know how I went on. I’ve had a famous time, I can tell you! I made an ascent with Mr Oliver at last ‒ from Plover’s field. We went miles up … well, about twelve hundred feet, actually. Only then the wind died and we weren’t able to cover any great distance …’

  William’s voice tailed off as he detected a lack of interest in his audience. He looked from one to the other and grinned sheepishly.

  ‘Sorry. I’m intruding. I didn’t think ‒’

  The Duke surveyed the dishevelled figure with damping austerity.

  ‘Obviously. But then, why should you think?’ he drawled. ‘Pray do not be imagining that you need feel the least compunction about irrupting into my rooms unannounced ‒’ he raised his quizzing glass ‘‒ and looking more of a complete shag-rag than usual.’