by Stella Riley
‘I would be – if I hadn’t been in Sussex visiting my father,’ came the calm reply. ‘But what interests me is that publications such as this don’t generally make up stories out of thin air and risk being sued – which means someone supplied this farrago in such a way as to make it seem credible. And the only name which springs to mind is that of Miranda Silvarez.’ He paused. ‘I’m not telling you this out of self-preservation. My concern, after last night, is that she may involve others.’
‘That point is well taken,’ remarked Rockliffe. ‘However … I would advise you not to ignore this. An official letter to The Whisperer pointing out their error ought to be sufficient to deter them from repeating it. If you have no man-of-law of your own, I would be happy to set the task before mine.’
A hint of colour stole along Sebastian’s cheekbones.
‘That is uncommonly good of you.’
‘Not at all. Mr Osborne is rarely over-burdened with work. And mention of my name is not without its effect, I find.’
‘Talking of names,’ mused Amberley. ‘Silvarez isn’t one I know. Is she received?’
‘I don’t believe so, though she somehow managed to get into Dolly Cavendish’s ball as well as Bedford House.’
‘In which case – society being what it is – someone is helping her.’
‘That,’ said his Grace, rising from his chair, ‘is an extremely good point. But this is where I shall leave you in order to return to my increasingly fractious lady. Dominic tells me that these last days can be trying … but really, that in no way describes them.’
* * *
That evening, Mr Audley arrived at Lady Crewe’s assembly in time to see Mistress Delahaye treading a gavotte with Mr Penhaligon. She was wearing pink silk and silver lace and appeared to be enjoying herself. Since it was too late for Sebastian to offer his hand to another lady and he really didn’t want to hover on the edge of the floor watching Cassandra smile at Penhaligon, he wandered out to the terrace and leaned against the balustrade.
The rules of the Polite World that everyone obeyed were beginning to irritate him beyond bearing. He met Cassandra at this party or that and could dance with her – but not too often; he could take her driving in the park, so long as it was in an open carriage; and if he met her at any other time, she had to have a maid or groom or footman with her. How the bloody hell was anyone to get to know anyone else under restrictions like those? And yet matches were made on no more than that every day.
All right, he thought. Time to admit it. I’m fathoms deep in love with a girl most of whose knowledge of me comes from gossip, rumour and the well-known catalogue of my various misdeeds. In addition, we’ve had a few snatched conversations and two occasions of privacy when I wasn’t exactly on my best behaviour. And now, to top it all, there’s this lurid trash in The Whisperer. If I have any intention of courting her – and God knows I want to – I’d better start putting some of that right.
The orchestra was bringing the gavotte to an end. He re-entered the ballroom in time to see Penhaligon escorting Cassandra to the edge of the floor. Sebastian stalked purposefully in their direction and arrived at exactly the same moment as a youthful exquisite in apricot satin.
‘Mistress Delahaye,’ the young man began, ‘may I hope --’
‘Unfortunately not,’ cut in Sebastian cheerfully. ‘Cassandra … my dance, I think?’
Her eyes widened and then filled with unexpected laughter. Meanwhile, the other fellow blustered, ‘I say, sir – you are most importunate. And --’
‘A pirate. Yes, I know. But I’m sure you’ll weather the disappointment.’ And so saying, he led Cassandra on to the floor, leaving the apricot-clad gallant gibbering in their wake.
‘That was atrocious of you,’ she reproved, still struggling not to laugh.
‘Not as atrocious as that coat. If you ask me, gentlemen who dress that badly ought to be turned away at the door.’
‘You’re very severe.’
‘No. I’m just preventing him clashing with your gown – which, by the way, is extremely fetching.’ His mouth curled in a sudden dazzling and rather wicked smile. ‘It’s not obligatory, of course … but if you wished to tell me that I also look particularly dashing this evening, I wouldn’t mind.’
Cassie rather suspected that he didn’t need to be told how he looked. Against the dark blue of his coat, his hair glowed like fire. And that smile was positively dangerous. She said carefully, ‘I’ll admit that you have excellent taste.’
‘That is perfectly true. And not only in clothes.’
There was a possible double-meaning in that which brought colour to her cheeks but luckily the music began, sparing her the need to reply.
At the end of the first figure, all levity stripped from both eyes and voice, Sebastian said, ‘It would be pleasant to hold a conversation that isn’t structured around the moves of a dance, don’t you think? Will you ride with me tomorrow – early and without your sister?’
His abrupt switch from flirtation to gravity made Cassie’s pulse trip. ‘Why?’
‘Purely so we may talk in more than half-sentences.’ The movement of the minuet parted, then re-united them. ‘Unlike now. And you need not fear a repetition of what happened at Sinclairs – however much I might wish it. You will naturally bring a groom and though I’d prefer he remained out of earshot, you will never be out of his sight.’ The twilight gaze trapped hers with sudden intensity. ‘So will you? Please?’
She knew she should refuse – not only because his request was improper but because every meeting tightened the invisible thread that bound her to him. But telling herself that she was only inviting disappointment and heartache didn’t do any good at all when he looked at her like that. So she said, ‘Very well. What time … and where?’
* * *
Attended by her groom, Cassie turned into Hyde Park through the Duke Gate promptly at eight the following morning and found Mr Audley cantering up towards her.
‘Good morning, Mistress Delahaye,’ he said for the benefit of her groom. ‘This is a charming surprise. I was about to return home – but perhaps you will permit me to ride with you for a time?’
‘Certainly, sir. That would be most pleasant.’ She gestured for the groom to fall back to a discreet distance and drew her mare alongside Sebastian’s powerful chestnut.
He said quietly, ‘Thank you for coming. I thought you might change your mind.’
‘I changed it at least five times,’ she replied truthfully. ‘Then I realised that I couldn’t just leave you waiting in vain – so here I am.’
And here am I … and now that I have the chance, I don’t know where to start, thought Sebastian. ‘I wouldn’t have blamed you for not coming. Virtually nothing you know about me resounds to my credit, does it?’
‘Oh I don’t know. As we agreed last evening, you dress very well.’
It surprised her that he didn’t laugh. Instead, his mouth twisted a little and he said, ‘Not the most useful recommendation, perhaps – but at least it has the merit of coming from personal observation. Nearly everything else you or anyone else knows of me is allied to my adventurous past, courtesy of the scandal sheets.’
Cassie eyed him curiously, sure now that he’d asked for this meeting in order to tell her something in particular. ‘What do you want to say to me?’
Sebastian opened his mouth on a cautious beginning. Instead, what came out, was, ‘Did you know I had a twin brother?’
Whatever she might have expected, this wasn’t it.
‘No.’ And realising exactly what he’d said, ‘Had?’
‘Yes. Theodore. He died of the putrid throat when we were eight.’ He glanced sideways at her, his eyes hooded. ‘Some people call it the Boulogne throat. Did you know that? I’ve often wondered what they call it in France. The Dover throat, perhaps? Harwich? Or, my personal favourite, the Gravesend throat. A little dark … but beautifully apt.’
He stopped abruptly, unsure where any of that had come f
rom and aware that a raw note had crept into his voice. Resolutely banishing it, he said, ‘After five daughters, the birth of Theo and me was the miracle my father was almost past praying for. So when Theo fell ill … more especially, when they knew what ailed him … they wouldn’t let me near him in case I caught it too.’
There was a pause, as if she wasn’t sure what to say. Then she said softly, ‘I’m sorry. For a little boy, that must have been terribly hard.’
Hard? No. There isn’t a word that describes how it was. We were always together, Theo and I. Always. He wouldn’t have understood why I didn’t come when he needed me. He wouldn’t have known they kept me away. I shouted as loudly as I could but I didn’t know if he could hear me. And I never saw him again so I could tell him.
‘Sebastian.’
Dimly, he heard Cassie speak his name and realised that she had brought her mare close enough to touch his arm. Blinking, he said, ‘Forgive me. I – my mind wandered for a moment.’
She’d known that and, despite having only his rigid profile and the grip of his hands on the reins to guide her, had a fairly accurate picture of what he’d been thinking.
‘You don’t need to apologise.’ She removed her hand. ‘I understand.’
He looked at her then and even managed something resembling a smile.
‘Yes. I see that you do. But I imagine you’re wondering why I told you.’
‘No. I was wondering whether your brother was older or younger … and whether the two of you looked alike. But perhaps you’d rather not talk about him?’
Sebastian hesitated, not sure what the truth was. He didn’t talk about Theo, not to anyone – though he’d thought about him every day for the last twenty years, usually late at night over the chessboard. But he’d spoken of him now … and she’d asked.
He said slowly, ‘Theo was older by a few minutes; and yes, we looked almost exactly alike. The same blue eyes and awful Audley red hair – which we thought God should have visited upon our sisters, not us. But in other ways, we were different. Theo was gentler than me … less impatient and sweeter-natured. He was … easy to love.’
And so are you, thought Cassie, a faint line of confusion marking her brow. Why do you think you aren’t? But she couldn’t ask that, so she said softly, ‘You still miss him.’
‘Yes. But there’s more to it than that.’ The darkness in his eyes faded a little but his jaw remained tight. ‘After Theo died, I was suddenly of paramount importance. My father was terrified he’d lose his sole remaining heir so he took every possible measure to ensure it didn’t happen. I was educated at home and denied any activity that could threaten either my health or my safety. I won’t bore you with the list of things I wasn’t allowed to do – suffice it to say that it was extensive and that it continued even when I went to Cambridge. I didn’t have the same university experience that your brother or Nicholas and the rest of them had. I had my studies … and chess.’ He paused and, with a hard smile, added, ‘For thirteen years I lived in a securely padded cage. So when the lock finally sprang open, I set out to make up for lost time. And as everyone is only-too-aware, I succeeded.’
Wanting nothing more than to put her arms around him, Cassie found it a struggle to keep her voice level. She said, ‘Given the circumstances you describe, any young man might have done the same. But I’m glad you told me.’ She thought for a moment. ‘Why did you?’
This brought Sebastian to the edge of the cliff. Did he explain that, financially, he wasn’t as eligible as people supposed … or did he simply ask if she’d allow him to approach Sir Charles? The third alternative, of course, was give way to cowardice and waste everything he’d said so far by failing to come to the point at all.
Whichever course he chose, he didn’t want to do it from the back of a horse so he said, ‘Do you think we might dismount? There’s a bench just over there and your groom could watch the horses for a little while.’
At some instinctive level, Cassie recognised that he was hovering on the brink of something vital, so she nodded and let him help her from the saddle.
Sebastian led both horses to the groom, tossing the fellow a guinea and muttered, ‘Give us a moment, would you?’
The groom, a fatherly sort of man who had known Cassie since she was six, grinned.
‘Blind and deaf, sir – as long as there’s no harm to my young lady.’
‘There won’t be.’
Cassie took Sebastian’s arm and strolled with him towards the bench. Tension radiated from him, yet he retained her hand to toy idly with her fingers, making her wish they weren’t both wearing gloves.
Sebastian fixed his gaze on their joined hands, considering how best to begin and wishing he’d prepared a speech. Then, for the second time in the last half hour, the words that escaped his mouth weren’t at all the ones he’d meant to say.
‘I love you.’
He heard her indrawn breath and the fingers in his became suddenly rigid.
‘Wh-what did you say?’ she whispered.
He looked into her face, meeting stunned grey eyes and hoping his own reflected the very real emotion hidden behind words that seemed thoroughly inadequate.
‘I love you. I know it’s sudden – and God knows I hadn’t meant to blurt it out that way. But the truth, though I hope I haven’t been too blatant about it, is that this has been growing and building since the night we met. I … I just love you. And I am hoping you will give me leave to ask your father if he’ll permit me to court you.’ Realising she was about to say something and not ready to hear a refusal, he said, ‘No – please don’t give me your answer yet. Obviously, you’ll want time to consider. And in any case, I ought to tell you that, even if you give your permission, by the time I’ve laid my circumstances before him, Sir Charles is unlikely to give his.’
During this rapid torrent of words, Cassie had started breathing again, though her heart still threatened to fill her entire chest and her head was spinning from the enormity of being offered what she hadn’t dare hope for. Her immediate instinct was to say, Yes – oh yes. Please. But because it seemed too good to be true, a niggling little voice in her head said, And perhaps it is. Perhaps he falls in and out of love all the time.
It was so very easy to become infatuated with Sebastian Audley. His smile alone was enough to bring any girl to his hand without further effort; and when one added charm, intelligence and humour, the man became well-nigh irresistible. Certainly, she hadn’t resisted. She’d slid effortlessly into love with him almost without knowing it. And just now, he’d added something surprisingly powerful to the mix. He’d revealed the private pain he still felt about his twin and thus shown himself capable of a depth of feeling that she might not otherwise have guessed at.
She had been silent for so long that Sebastian was beginning to fear what she might eventually say. As lightly as he was able he said, ‘Lost for words, Cassandra?’
‘Yes. You … you’ve rather taken my breath away.’ She stared down on her hand, still enfolded in his. ‘You want to court me. Have I understood that correctly?’
He nodded. ‘It seemed the most I could reasonably hope for just yet – and I thought I could get around to the rest later. Meanwhile, I’d be allowed to call on you and let you get to know me without resorting to stratagems such as this.’
‘I could get to know you?’ She glanced up. ‘Don’t you also need to get to know me?’
‘No. Oh – there are a thousand things I’d like to discover about you but I already know everything that matters.’ His smile was a little crooked. ‘I don’t think you do. But given time, I may manage to convince you that I’m not quite as black as I’m painted.’
The humility bound up in his uncertainty all but undid her. He’d said he loved her – her, Cassandra Delahaye. How could he doubt his reception? With a tremulous smile, she said, ‘I believe I already know that. But for now … yes. You may speak to Papa.’
‘You’re sure?’ Sebastian’s fingers tightened on hers
as joy, relief and triumph flooded every nerve and sinew. And when she nodded, ‘Thank you.’ Then, on a shaky laugh, ‘He may say no, of course.’
‘He won’t.’
‘I’m glad you think so. Unfortunately, I’m not quite that confident.’
~ * * ~ * * ~
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Mr Audley wrote a formal request for an interview with Sir Charles Delahaye on the following morning. He knew that the tone of his letter couldn’t fail to tell Sir Charles exactly what was in the wind – but, given the importance of doing this correctly, that was unavoidable. Knowing that they would see each other next evening at the theatre, he and Cassandra had agreed that she would say nothing to her father unless asked directly … so Sebastian despatched his note, set up the chessboard for a completely new game and settled down to wait.
A response came when he was considering his fourth move. Sir Charles would be pleased to receive Mr Audley the following day at eleven in the morning. Mr Audley discovered that he felt slightly sick.
Having taken more than usual care with his appearance, he presented himself in Conduit Street on the stroke of eleven and was shown to the same room as before. Sir Charles rose from his desk with a pleasant greeting and an extended hand. If he knew why Sebastian was there, nothing in his demeanour showed it.
Waving his visitor to a chair, he said, ‘Well, Sebastian. What may I do for you?’
Sebastian cleared his throat and resisted the impulse to tug at his cravat.
‘I imagine you must have guessed, sir. I would like your permission to – to court your daughter.’ And then, in case he hadn’t been clear, ‘Mistress Cassandra, that is.’
Charles hid a smile. ‘Yes. I rather gathered that’s who you meant.’
Sebastian kept his mouth shut and cursed himself for an idiot.
‘Why are you asking for leave to court her rather than to pay your addresses?’