To Have and to Hoax

by Martha Waters

  “Whatever for?”

  “You cannot think that people did not notice Audley and Lady Fitzwilliam’s dance? Particularly in light of the gossip about their meeting in Hyde Park?” Diana paused, then added delicately, “I’m surprised gentlemen aren’t beating down your door as we speak.”

  “For what purpose?” Violet felt rather as though Diana were speaking a foreign language; nothing she was saying seemed to make a great deal of sense to her.

  “Well,” Diana said, drawing out the word, “some gentlemen present seemed to think that since Audley has now made clear his intention to take a mistress, you would be more amenable to similar… er… extramarital activities, shall we say.”

  “Did they not notice that I danced with James, as soon as he was through with Lady Fitzwilliam?” Violet asked, irritated.

  “No,” Diana said slowly. “I believe they saw you cut in on their dance in a most scandalous fashion—and if that wasn’t the action of a jealous wife, I fail to see any other alternate explanation for your behavior that seems the slightest bit plausible.”

  “Oh, good heavens.” Violet buried her face in her hands. “I shall have to tell Wooton I am not at home to callers, if it’s as bad as you say.”

  “I already took the liberty of doing so,” Diana said serenely, sipping her tea. She focused a shrewd look on Jeremy. “Though that doesn’t explain how you got in, Willingham.”

  “No one can resist my charms,” Jeremy said with a winning grin. “Not even a butler of such sternness as Wooton.”

  “Strange, seeing as I have no difficulty in doing so.”

  “That is because, Lady Templeton, I have never wasted them on you. I assure you, were I to employ them, you would not stand a chance.”

  “In any case,” Diana said, steering the conversation back to where she wanted it, “Violet, I had at least three separate gentlemen inquire about you last night. My dance card was full for the entire evening, so eager were people to hear whatever I might know about the state of your marriage.”

  “Your dance card is always full,” Violet pointed out, quite truthfully.

  “True,” Diana said placidly, taking another sip of tea without any trace of false modesty. “But for once they didn’t seem remotely interested in peering down my bodice in the most ungentlemanly fashion imaginable. All they wanted to do was talk!” She sounded thrilled and disgruntled in almost equal measure.

  “You might have that experience more often if you gave them less to look at,” Jeremy drawled.

  “And yet you never seem able to resist the temptation to take a nice long ogle yourself,” Diana shot back.

  “My dear Lady Templeton, I am a man,” Jeremy said, as though this explained everything. And, given Violet’s experience with men, she supposed it probably did.

  “Nonetheless,” Violet said, deciding that the best course of action was to ignore this entire exchange, “I have no interest in any gentlemen who may choose to call on me, so they would be wasting their time.”

  “Violet, don’t be so hasty,” Diana chided. “Some of the gentlemen who asked me specifically about you last night were very handsome.”

  “I say,” Jeremy said, “I don’t think I should be present for this conversation.”

  “I couldn’t agree more,” Diana replied. “Feel free to show yourself out—I think you know the way.”

  “Did you have a particular purpose for calling, Jeremy?” Violet asked, a touch more diplomatically. “I could pass a message along for James—I’ve not seen him yet today, though.”

  “Probably hiding from any callers,” Jeremy muttered darkly. “But, er, no, thank you. I just wanted to discuss—er—manly things with him. Probably wouldn’t interest you in the least.”

  “Manly things?” Violet inquired dubiously.

  “Yes, quite,” Jeremy said with growing enthusiasm. “Not suitable discussion for ladies, in any case.”

  “What, precisely, are these ‘manly things’?” Violet asked. “Horses? Mathematics? How to trick your wife into thinking you’re interested in another woman?”

  “Er,” Jeremy said.

  “Or shall I be more specific?” Violet pressed. “How to trick your wife into thinking you’re interested in another woman because you know perfectly well that she’s not truly ill?”

  “Doesn’t this give you a headache?” Jeremy burst out. “I don’t know how you can stand it! I can’t bloody keep track of who knows what about who at what hour of what day.”

  Violet and Diana exchanged raised eyebrows at this outburst. “You’re right,” Violet said. Diana looked as if she might fall off her chair at this admission. “It has gotten out of hand. James and I came to a similar conclusion last night, as a matter of fact.” She did not mention that their accord had not lasted long—nor how, precisely, they celebrated their brief reconciliation.

  “I quite agree,” Diana said, which Violet thought was a bit rich, considering Diana had been in on this lunatic scheme from the very beginning. “Which is why I say, abandon the sham illness and invite one of these—very willing—gentlemen into your bed.”

  “You do realize that the man you’re speaking of deceiving is my closest friend, don’t you?” Jeremy asked conversationally.

  “I hardly think now is the time for you to try to claim the moral high ground about deceiving a man in his marriage, Willingham,” Diana said witheringly.

  “I say,” Jeremy said, and Violet was startled to see that he looked truly angry, a rarity from him. “I would like you to know that I have not once seduced a woman who was happily married, or whose marriage had ever been based on anything other than family connections or money.” He stood abruptly, his cheeks rather flushed with anger. Diana was staring at him with frank astonishment.

  “It is quite a different thing,” Jeremy continued, “to speak of deceiving a man who married for love at a ridiculously young age, and then was destined to spend the rest of his life paying for it, all because his wife can’t let go of some wretched argument from years past.”

  “I assure you,” Violet said quietly, “I am not the person who is clinging to the past in this relationship. And, for the record—not that it’s any of your affair—I informed James last night that I still loved him. I believe it is his turn to act, not mine.”

  At that moment, Wooton appeared at the door to the library once again and announced, “Lady Emily Turner.”

  “I gather you are not the only one skilled at weaseling your way past Wooton, Willingham,” Diana said smugly as Emily appeared in the doorway in a state of some disarray.

  This was, of course, all relative—Emily was normally so impeccably put together that even her current state, with one curl slipping from her coiffure to cling to her temple and her skirts the slightest bit rumpled, seemed startling.

  Emily blinked at the sight of them gathered before her. “Did I miss an invitation of some sort?”

  “Not at all,” Violet said, gesturing her to take a seat with a wave of her hand. “I just seem to be the recipient of any number of unexpected guests this morning. What brings you here so early? Would you like some tea?”

  “No, I can’t stay,” Emily said distractedly, twisting her hands. “I left my abigail loitering outside—I told her I just needed to borrow a book, because I suspect she eavesdrops on me and I didn’t wish her to overhear this, but… I came to ask… well…” She trailed off, looking anxiously at Jeremy.

  “Willingham, your presence here is decidedly de trop,” Diana said with perhaps more eagerness than the situation called for.

  “Diana,” Violet said mildly, “kindly do me the courtesy of allowing me to be the person to boot guests from my own home.”

  Sighing dramatically, Diana desisted; before Violet could say more, however, Emily interjected, “No, perhaps Lord Willingham should stay.” She cast a furtive glance at him. “A gentleman’s opinion might be helpful.”

  Both Violet and Diana leaned forward in their chairs at that, and even Jeremy gav
e Emily a look that was decidedly more alert than his usual expression of amused boredom.

  “Lord Julian Belfry,” Emily began, and at the mere uttering of this name Diana leaned so far forward that Violet became concerned she was going to topple out of her chair entirely. Emily paused at this uncharacteristic show of enthusiasm, and Jeremy said, “Pray continue, Lady Emily, before Lady Templeton does herself some sort of grievous injury.”

  “Yes, well.” Emily paused again. “He has asked if he might escort me to Lady Wheezle’s Venetian breakfast this week.”

  There was a beat of silence, and then Diana wailed, “Of all the breakfasts! Why would he choose the one I’ve not been invited to?”

  At the same moment, Jeremy asked, “Who in their right mind would want to attend that?”

  Violet, attempting more diplomacy than either of her friends, merely asked, “Emily, how did this come about?” That was, in truth, the only question she could think to ask. She had certainly noted Belfry’s interest in Emily, and indeed the difference in his casually flirtatious manner toward Diana and his more intent attention toward Emily. But she would not have thought there was anything serious in it; the man had a rather scandalous reputation, and did not seem the sort to escort debutantes to respectable society events.

  Emily raised her hands. “I’m not entirely certain! We danced twice last night, and he asked me to take a turn about the room with him—this was after you two had disappeared,” she added, but there was no hint of reproach in her voice. “We were chatting about nothing in particular, and he told me he had just that morning received an invitation to Lady Wheezle’s breakfast, and asked if I should like to attend.”

  “And what did you say?” Diana asked with great interest.

  “Well, I told him I was surprised he wished to attend at all, and he told me it was my company he was primarily interested in.” Emily was blushing furiously by this point. “I then told him that I wasn’t certain Mr. Cartham would enjoy my being escorted to the breakfast by someone else, and he told me he knew for a fact that Lady Wheezle wouldn’t be inviting Mr. Cartham, and that surely I could not be expected to decline an offer of escort from another, given that I am not betrothed.”

  “What did you say?” Diana seemed with great effort to be resisting the urge to shake Emily.

  “I said yes,” Emily said all at once. “I was so surprised that I agreed before I could think better of it!”

  “And why should you think better of it?” Diana asked.

  “Because Belfry is a known seducer who is barely respectable?” Jeremy suggested casually.

  “All men have to settle down sometime, Willingham,” Diana said dismissively.

  “I know you think so,” Jeremy agreed. “You were willing to wager a sizable sum on that fact, if I recall correctly.”

  “I think it’s wonderful, Emily,” Violet said, ignoring Diana and Jeremy’s squabbling, as was usually best. “I rather like Lord Julian. He’s very handsome,” she could not resist adding.

  “And his pockets are very deep,” Diana added.

  “I think I agreed out of curiosity more than anything else,” Emily confessed. “I’ve no idea how I’ll convince my parents to allow his escort—they’ll be worried Mr. Cartham will be offended.”

  “Did you mention your parents’ concern to Belfry?” Jeremy asked.

  Emily nodded. “He said not to worry about that—that he and Mr. Cartham run in some of the same circles, and he’d handle it.” She sounded dubious at the odds of his success in this endeavor, but Violet rather thought that Lord Julian Belfry might be entirely capable of managing Oswald Cartham, and she said as much.

  “Besides,” she added. “Diana’s right. Men have to marry eventually. Perhaps he’s decided that the role of husband appeals to him.”

  “Speaking of husbands,” Emily added, clearly desperate for a change in subject matter, “where was yours rushing off to, Violet, in such a hurry when I arrived?”

  Violet frowned. “What do you mean?”

  It was Emily’s turn to frown. “He was departing just as I was arriving—he seemed in a state of some agitation, I must confess. Did he not tell you where he was going?”

  “I didn’t even know he was home,” Violet said, exasperated. When had James arrived? And why had he left?

  “How odd,” Emily said, still frowning. “He was walking away from the hallway leading to the library just as Wooton let me in; I assumed he had been in here with you.”

  A cold feeling crept over Violet. What had they been discussing, just prior to Emily’s arrival? What might James have overheard? She thought for a moment, and then realized, a mixture of anger and mild alarm rising within her: they’d been discussing the possibility of Violet having an affair.

  Of course that would be the moment he chose to eavesdrop, the infuriating man. She wanted to throttle him.

  Instead she said slowly to her friends, “I think he overheard us.”

  “What do you mean?” Diana asked.

  “You were prattling on about my taking a lover,” Violet said, striving to keep the irritation out of her voice. “I think that’s the bit of our conversation that James overheard. Why else would he rush off like that?”

  “Pish,” Jeremy said dismissively. “It’s not Audley’s way to listen at keyholes like a naughty schoolboy.”

  This was an amusing mental image, but Violet did not allow herself to be distracted. “It was likely accidental,” she clarified. “The door was cracked, after all, and he could have easily caught a bit of what we were saying if he were standing just outside.”

  “What has you so upset, Violet?” Diana asked, getting up and walking to her side.

  “The man’s probably gone and gotten the wrong idea again!” Violet burst out angrily. “No doubt he heard your nonsense and now he’s gotten himself worked into a fury once more. Oh, I could strangle him!” She began to pace the length of the room—which was not inconsiderable. “How am I supposed to make a go of this marriage if he takes offense at every whispered insinuation he hears? It’s infuriating!”

  “To be fair,” Jeremy said helpfully, “I don’t think Lady Templeton was insinuating anything. She was stating it quite plainly.”

  Diana shot a venomous look at Jeremy, but Violet had no time for their squabbling now.

  “It would be nice if I could confide in my dearest friend without her encouraging me to destroy my marriage.”

  Diana’s face flushed with anger, which was unusual; despite her quick tongue, it was rare that she grew truly angry. She never seemed to think it worth the energy. But Violet had clearly struck a nerve.

  “You’ve done quite enough to destroy your marriage without any help from me,” she said in a clipped tone that evidenced nothing of her usual languid demeanor. “You’re behaving like a child, and so is your husband.” She crossed her arms. “It’s absurd that you’ve ever tried to claim your indifference to him, in fact. People don’t try so desperately to needle someone they’re indifferent to.”

  Violet was sorely tempted at that moment to ask how that particular theory applied to Diana’s perpetual spat with Jeremy, but resisted the temptation with some difficulty, deciding that it would only make matters worse.

  “I’m going to take my leave of you now, Violet,” Diana said decisively, gathering up her reticule and making for the doorway. “Do please let me know when all this nonsense is at an end and we might have a normal conversation once more.” With that, she departed, leaving Violet, Emily, and Jeremy staring at the empty space she’d just vacated.

  “You know,” Jeremy said thoughtfully, “I think I might rather admire Lady Templeton after all.”

  Fourteen

  That morning, James had done what he always did in moments of doubt: taken to his horse.

  He’d felt like the very devil upon awakening, his mouth dry and head pounding, but he’d dragged himself out of bed nonetheless; he was going to feel like hell regardless—he might as well do it in the open
air. And, in truth, he needed to think, and he had always thought better out of doors. He recalled his years at Oxford—whenever he had become stuck on some sort of thorny mathematical problem, a good, hard ride had usually sorted him out.

  He had languished in bed long past his usual hour, courtesy of the aforementioned throbbing head, but still arrived at the park hours before five, when the ton turned out in force. It was, therefore, something of a surprise when he heard another rider hailing him as soon as he turned onto Rotten Row.

  It was an even greater surprise when he discovered that said rider was his father.

  As James had grown from boy to man, his father had seemed to shrink—he was still a tall, imposing man, but he no longer towered over James as he had in James’s boyhood, nor was he a towering figure in James’s imagination, one to be feared at all costs. However, he still made no effort to see the duke more than was absolutely necessary—and when one was a second son and not the cherished heir, “absolutely necessary” was rather less than one might think. Or it had been prior to West’s accident.

  Since that day, the duke had taken rather more of an interest in his second son. There had been the gift of Audley House as a wedding present and that frightful morning when James had returned home to find his father and Violet deep in conversation—a conversation that James was beginning to think he might have badly misunderstood. Still, despite the fact that the duke’s hopes for the future of the dukedom focused rather more on James than James might have wished, he had managed to put as much distance as was seemly between himself and his father. They weren’t openly feuding—they kept up appearances—but…

  Well, but James didn’t relish the idea of his father interrupting a much-needed ride. Especially on a day when his head felt as though a hammer were pounding at his temples.

  “Father,” he said stiffly, having reined in his horse and allowed his father to catch up. “This is rather early for you, is it not?”

  “Quite,” his father said dryly, with a telling glance at the less-than-crowded park around him. “I’ve never understood your fascination with these morning rides.”