by Sandra Heath
Linnet glanced out at the sunken garden as the landau drove along the crescent toward Venetia’s house. There were only a few people there now, and the men were taking down the awning around the cleaned statue. There was no sign of the plume, tar, and feathers that had adorned it earlier, or of the sly verse, which had long since been removed. Her gaze moved across the garden toward Fane House, and then quickly away again. Would he soften toward her once he knew she’d had nothing to do with the disfiguring of the statue? Would he relent and give her the one final chance she craved? Or was his love as dead as he claimed?
The landau drew up at Venetia’s door, and as Linnet prepared to alight, Judith sat quickly forward, putting a hand on her arm. “You must not show your face for fear of being seen with me, so keep your veil well in place. I trust the butler knows your voice?”
“Yes.”
“Then let us proceed.”
Judith stepped down, and Linnet followed, being careful to conceal her face. No one walked along the pavement as they approached the door of the house, and Linnet’s heart began to beat frantically in her breast. What if Judith had been lying? What if Venetia was innocent? Doubts filled her for a moment, and she almost turned away, but then common sense told her that Judith hadn’t lied, and that Venetia was indeed guilty of everything.
She rapped with the knocker, and in a moment the door opened. Venetia’s butler looked out, his startled glance moving swiftly toward Judith, and then the distinctive white landau.
Linnet addressed him. “Is Lady Hartley at home, Rochdale?”
Her voice took him aback, for he hadn’t realized it was she behind the veil. “Miss Carlisle?”
“The same.”
“Er, yes, madam, Lady Hartley is indeed at home, but…” He looked uneasily at Judith.
Linnet seized the moment, stepping boldly into the hall, knowing that Judith would follow. “Would you tell her ladyship that I’ve called?”
Looking outside to see if anyone had observed the notorious Cyprian entering the house, he closed the door and then withdrew up the stairs to the drawing room on the first floor.
It was several minutes before he reappeared, and Linnet could only imagine Venetia’s alarm and consternation on hearing who had called.
“Lady Hartley will receive you now, Miss Carlisle.”
With Judith walking a step or so behind her, Linnet flung back her veil, and went up the staircase. Her heart was pounding now, and she felt quite sick with apprehension. This was surely going to be the most disagreeable interview of her life.
Venetia wore a gown of a rather subdued shade of violet, and whether it was this or her great unease that made her seem so pale, Linnet really couldn’t tell. She was standing with her back to one of the tall windows, and through the glass behind her Linnet could see how perfect a view there was of Fane House opposite.
The butler closed the doors, and the three women were alone. Venetia’s hazel eyes moved swiftly from one to the other of her visitors. “Well, I must say that you two seem rather unlikely companions, and I can’t pretend, Linnet, that I am at all pleased to be paid an open call by a demirep. I trust you have an explanation?”
Before Linnet could reply, Judith spoke. “Lady Hartley, I rather fancy that if any explanation is due to anyone, it is from you to Miss Carlisle. You see, I’ve been a little remiss, and have told her everything you’ve been up to, and I’ve been putting two and two together, and coming up with some sovereign reasons for your activities. Now, rather than expect Miss Carlisle to simply take my word, I thought it best of we toddled along to see you, so that you could explain it all yourself. I’d hate to think I’d been less than correct in every detail.”
Venetia’s face was now even more pale, but she gave no other sign of being trapped. “Miss Jordan, I neither know nor care what you’re talking about, but I would be much obliged if you’d leave this house directly.” She reached for a handbell.
Judith tutted, and wagged a remonstrative finger. “That won’t do at all, my lady. Believe me, I’m quite prepared to show your indiscreet notes, and broadcast my tale to all and sundry. Now then, all you have to do is confess that you were the one who not only informed on her concerning the visit to my ball, but you were also the one who removed that plume from Carlisle House and appended it to the statue we can all see from that window behind you.” The Cyprian smiled a little. “I know you consider yourself to be a friend of the great Mr. Coleridge, but really, my dear, you aren’t in his class when it comes to poetry. That dismal little verse was such a poor thing, was it not?”
Spots of guilty color had flared to Venetia’s hitherto ashen face, and now her eyes flashed into bitter life. “It served its purpose!” she snapped.
“Temporarily,” murmured Judith, the smile still curving her lips. “I intend to tell Nicholas the real identity of the culprit, and after that I fear your chances of succeeding with him will be less than minimal.”
Venetia’s glance flew to Linnet, and there was no mistaking the deep loathing written in her eyes. “You don’t deserve him,” she breathed. “You chose to toss him aside, but I wanted him, I’ve always wanted him!”
Judith gave a derisory laugh. “How frustrating for you that he hardly knows you exist.”
“I’ll win him yet!”
“Be sensible, my dear, admit you are defeated. He’s going to take Miss Carlisle back after all this, and you’ll be out in the cold, where you so richly deserve to be. My, my, you did slip up, didn’t you? You didn’t know your own half-brother was my lover, and you had no idea that my intention was to end his betrothal. I vow you must have been pinched to the very quick when you realized what had happened. The business with the tar and feathers—oh, and the verse, of course—would have been a masterstroke, had it not been for the fact that it alerted me to what was really going on in your scheme of things. I suddenly knew that it was Fane that you loved, and Fane that Miss Carlisle loved as well. Your purpose suddenly became only too evident, and I’m rather afraid that I felt a good deal of sympathy for Miss Carlisle, so much that I took myself to her without delay to tell her all about her so-called friend. And here we are, and there you are, and you’ve admitted in front of her that you have indeed been busying yourself against her. There is nothing to be gained further from this distasteful interview, so I don’t think we need bother you anymore, do we?” Judith smiled coolly, and then turned to walk from the room.
Linnet hesitated a moment, and then looked sadly at Venetia. “I truly believed you were my friend, Venetia.”
“You’re a fool, Linnet Carlisle. He would long since have been yours if you’d had the sense you were born with.”
“Will you tell me one thing? What did you say to Freddy that made him cut me? You did say something, didn’t you?”
“I wished to be rid of him, and I needed his invitation card for Nicholas, so I merely told him that you intended to exclude him from the list of guests to the betrothal ball because you thought he was making a nuisance of himself where I was concerned. I told him that everyone thought he was embarrassing, and that I was entirely in agreement with you.”
Linnet gazed at her. “How cruel you are, for you know that he loved you.”
“I believe that all is fair in love and war, Linnet, but you know that now, don’t you?”
“Oh, yes. I know, just as I also know what I must put in my letter to him. Any love he may have for you will cease to be after he’s read it.” Without another word, Linnet turned and walked away.
Judith was waiting in the hall. “I think her culpability is proved, is it not?”
“Yes.”
“All that remains now is for me to call upon Fane and put him right on certain points. I will go there directly, and I wish you to wait by the statue.”
“But…”
“Don’t argue.” Judith smiled a little. “I don’t think you will have to wait very long, truly I don’t.”
“All I ask is the chance to earn his forgiveness.�
��
“My dear Miss Carlisle, if I can get him to meet you in that garden, and you fling yourself upon his masculine mercy, I vow the poor fellow won’t stand a chance. Every woman has a little of the Cyprian in her, so employ your wiles, as I’m sure you know how.”
“I hope you’re right. Oh, how I hope you’re right.”
“Well, let’s do it, then. Oh, and as I rather think this is the parting of the ways for us, may I say that I wish you nothing but well for the future. Good-bye, Miss Carlisle.”
Without waiting for Linnet to reply, Judith stepped outside, and Linnet pulled her veil forward again, before following her. The Cyprian entered the waiting landau, which immediately drove on, intending to turn into the drive of Fane House at the far end of the crescent. Its progress was observed by all those in its vicinity, and hardly anyone noticed Linnet’s light figure hurrying across the road and down the steps into the garden.
The smell of tar still hung in the air, but there was no sign of it on the statue. Most of the chicken feathers had been carefully removed from the surrounding grass and paths, but some remained, fluttering gently in the light summer breeze.
Linnet paced restlessly up and down, her veil lifting now and then. She saw Judith’s landau draw up before Fane House, and saw the Cyprian go inside. After that, the minutes seemed to drag on leaden feet. She felt as if she’d paced there for an hour or more, but instead a nearby church bell announced that it had only been fifteen minutes. Oh, what was being said in there? Was he listening to Judith? Or was he closing his ears to anything that might be said in Linnet Carlisle’s favor?
The suspense was agonizing, and several times she felt like running away rather than face the inevitable snub, but she made herself stay. Occasionally, she glanced up at Venetia’s house, and saw a slender figure in dull violet standing motionless at the window, watching her.
It was one of those brief glances at Venetia that told Linnet Nicholas was approaching. As she looked up at the window, the figure suddenly withdrew from sight, and in such a way that Linnet knew instinctively that Nicholas had appeared.
She whirled about, and saw him coming toward her. As she flung back her veil, she saw that he still wore the charcoal coat and cream breeches of earlier, but the neckcloth had been retied and was quite perfect again. She tried to read his face, but couldn’t. There was no expression there, nothing to tell her what to expect.
He halted a few feet away from her. “I understand I owe you an apology, for you had nothing to do with events here today.”
“I wouldn’t have done such a thing,” she replied, still trying to gauge him.
“I no longer know what you would or would not do, Linnet.” He turned a little as Judith’s white landau pulled away from Fane House, coming up to a smart pace as it passed through the wrought iron gates and out into John Street, then he looked at Linnet again. “You and Judith are a very unlikely team.”
“We aren’t all that unalike,” she murmured in reply.
He didn’t hear. “Well, since your transport appears to have left without you, I’ll gladly provide you with a carriage to take you home.”
“How very courteous of you,” she replied, holding his gaze. “You aren’t going to forgive me for the past, are you?”
“Did you ever seek to forgive me for my imagined crimes?” he countered.
“I know that I was in the wrong.”
“Yes, because Sir Henry left you in no doubt.”
“Do two wrongs make a right? You’re doing to me what I did to you, and if I was at fault then, so are you now.” She maintained an outward dignity, but inside she was heartbroken. This wasn’t how she wished the conversation to go, but he wasn’t giving her a chance. Even as she thought it, she remembered the times in the past when she hadn’t given him a chance, either.
“If we’ve both been at fault, I believe we are now equal,” he said.
“Equals should start again, from the beginning.”
“That’s hardly possible after all that’s happened between us.”
“Why is it impossible?” she asked. “I love you, Nicholas, and I always will; nothing has changed that in spite of all that’s happened. And if you place such faith in us being equals, then it’s only right that what applies to me should apply equally to you. In that letter you left for me with Sir Henry, you claimed to have loved me right up until last night; if you are indeed my equal, sir, then you must love me still.”
“Then perhaps I’m not your equal after all, for even the brightest flame can be abruptly extinguished.”
A sudden strength came to her, and she tenaciously held her ground. “No, sir, it cannot. I love you, and you love me, only now you’re the one who’s refusing to admit it. I’ve learned a very painful lesson this past year, but I’ve learned it well, and I won’t let you down again.”
“How easy it is to say that, when only yesterday you still wore Gresham’s ring, and wore it willfully, even though you knew you still loved me. Being perverse comes woefully easily to you, Linnet, and although you’re all sweet contrition now, how can I be sure you won’t revert to your old self again when the mood takes you?”
She found herself remembering Judith’s words. Every woman has a little of the Cyprian in her, so employ your wiles, as I’m sure you know how. She moved a little closer to him, so that there were no leaf shadows falling over her, only the full sunlight, bright on her daffodil-yellow clothes. “If you can honestly say you now despise me, Nicholas, then walk away from me, but let me tell you something first. I wasn’t happy yesterday when I was still betrothed to Benedict, but I kept telling myself I was doing the right thing. You didn’t offer me any hope, did you? Each time I surrendered to your kisses, you contemptuously tossed me aside, but what right did you have to show contempt? You didn’t hesitate to exercise your power over me, you employed your kisses to make me betray myself, and once you’d succeeded, it amused you to cast me away. Doesn’t that make you contemptible?”
“It wasn’t like that.”
“No?” Her voice was soft, and she was close enough to touch him. Slowly she reached out, resting her fingers against his cheek. “Then tell me how it was, Nicholas.”
He didn’t move away. “I wanted you to see that it was wrong to marry Gresham.”
“If that was all you intended, then you need only have told me the truth about him. Your conscience would have been salved, and that would have been the end of it.” Her fingertips moved seductively against his skin, and still he didn’t draw away. She smiled into his eyes. “You didn’t tell me outright because you wished to know for certain that I still loved you, and you wished to know that because you still loved me. That’s why you kissed me, isn’t it?’
His hand moved suddenly to enclose hers, and there was a different light in his eyes, a softer light. “Have you been sitting at Judith’s knee?” he murmured. “I vow you’ve been taking lessons.”
She contained her joy that he’d responded at last. “Her poodle sits at her knee, sir, I merely have a recently discovered talent for being the wanton, or so I’ve been told.”
“Whoever told you, knew what she was talking about.”
“The person is considered the expert in her art, sir.”
He smiled a little. “So I understand, but I have no personal experience of her upon which to draw.”
“So I understand,” she answered softly. “You haven’t replied to my question yet. Why did you kiss me, when a word or two would have sufficed?”
“For the reason you gave.”
Her heart was singing, but she gave no sign. “Are we still equals? Do you still love me?”
“You know that I do.”
“Words won’t suffice now, sir. I need a kiss to prove you mean what you say.”
She closed her eyes with ecstasy as he pulled her close. His lips were firm and warm, and there was no cynicism in his kiss now, just the flame of a desire that had been denied for too long.
She drew back a little, h
er face flushed with happiness. “Do you forgive me for everything?” she whispered.
“The past doesn’t matter anymore.” He looked into her dark eyes. “Will you answer me a rather intriguing question, Miss Carlisle?”
“If I can, Lord Fane.”
“Just exactly where did you conceal that plume you stole from Portman Street?”
“That is a very improper question, sir.”
“And a very improper place, madam,” he replied softly, kissing her again.
Copyright © 1989 by Sandra Heath
Originally published by Signet (ISBN 9780451162243)
Electronically published in 2016 by Belgrave House/Regency
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This is a work of fiction. All names in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to any person living or dead is coincidental.