by Mary Nichols
‘And what there is, is intended for your husband. You will have no control over it yourself.’
‘Husband? Oh, Lucy, do you mean the only way I can save Felix is by marrying Lord Gorridge?’
‘He might suggest it.’ She paused and looked closely at her sister. ‘But you would never take him on those terms, would you?’ She leaned forward to peer into her sister’s face to add emphasis. ‘Would you, Esme?’
‘What am I to do?’
‘Nothing. Leave it to Lord Pendlebury to sort out his own problems. I am sure he would not want you to meddle.’ She paused a moment. ‘What made you think Lord Gorridge would be here today?’
‘He asked me if I would ride with him.’
‘An assignation! Oh, Esme!’
‘Not at all. I did not answer him, we were interrupted by Monsieur Maillet.’
‘Who is he?’
‘Another friend of Lord Gorridge. He came upon us talking at Lady Aviemore’s. He said something very strange. He said, “Connelly will spill the beans if something is not done to stop him.”’
‘My God! Esme, we must turn round and go home this instant.’ She reined in and started to turn her horse. ‘Come on.’
Esme hesitated. ‘But I haven’t spoken to Viscount Gorridge.’
‘No, nor will you, while I have breath in my body. Come at once. I must speak to Myles about this. I cannot understand why you did not tell us about that Frenchman before now.’
Reluctantly, Esme turned about and followed her sister from the park. She did not see Edward watching them from the shelter of a copse of trees, the very same copse where she had met and quarrelled with Felix. He had been looking forward to riding with her, wooing her and perhaps venturing something a little more intimate, but as soon as he saw who her companion was, he realised it would have to be another day. Lady Lucinda Moorcroft was the one person he could not manipulate.
Chapter Ten
‘But this is wonderful!’ Countess Luffenham exclaimed when Felix had unwrapped his Crystal Girl and stood it on the table in the drawing room at Luffenham Hall. ‘Beautiful. And you say you made it yourself?’
‘Yes, my lady. I call it the Crystal Girl.’
Felix had decided to approach the Earl and Countess through the little glass figure. Talking about it and asking for their permission to show it might give him a lead to ask them something even closer to his heart. He had sent a message from the Plough in Luffenham village, saying he was staying there and would appreciate an interview if his lordship would agree to see him. And so here he was, nervous but determined.
The Countess picked it up and ran a finger down its smooth surface. ‘It looks like our daughter, Esme. Is it meant to be Esme?’
‘Yes, my lady. It is why I have brought it to show you. I would like to exhibit it at the Great Exhibition with your permission.’
She held it out to her husband, who took it from her and turned it over in his hand. ‘A very fine piece of workmanship. How was it done?’
Felix explained about the clay model and the metal mould and how the glass was blown. ‘I have a small workshop at my home at Larkhills,’ he told them.
‘Larkhills,’ his lordship queried. ‘Birmingham way, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, just outside the town. My father built it to be near the manufactory.’
‘Ah, yes, I recall. A manufacturer.’
Knowing the trouble Myles had had about his involvement with the world of the working man, he spoke with some trepidation, but he was not ashamed of his roots and would not prevaricate. If he was to get his way, he had to be open and honest about everything. ‘Yes, my lord. When he returned from India and heard the manufactory was about to be closed and hundreds of men thrown out of work, he bought it and made it profitable again. My interest stems from that and when I inherited the title, I also found myself the owner of the manufactory.’
The Earl carefully replaced the figurine on the table. ‘Has my daughter seen this?’
‘Lady Esme? Not yet, my lord. I came to you first.’
‘But how did you manage to make it so lifelike without asking her to sit for you?’ her ladyship asked. ‘Unless, of course, she did.’
‘No, my lady. It was done from memory.’
‘You must have a remarkable memory, Pendlebury,’ the Earl said. ‘Have you been much in her company while she has been in town?’
This was the entry he wanted and he took a deep breath before replying. ‘Not as much as I would have liked, my lord.’
‘Oh. Am I to conclude you have a particular interest in her?’
He smiled. ‘Yes, my lord, a very particular interest. And I need your approval to pursue it.’
‘I knew it,’ her ladyship said, laughing. ‘That…’ and she pointed to the little glass figure ‘…was a labour of love.’
‘Yes, my lady. I am deeply in love with your daughter. It would make me the happiest man in the world if I could make her my wife.’
‘And what does Esme think about it?’
‘I hope and believe she will agree.’
‘Support her, can you?’ the Earl asked bluntly.
‘Yes. I am in the way of being a wealthy man. My father left me well-endowed and there is the glass manufactory. Glass is coming into its own since the tax was abolished and new techniques for its manufacture developed. It is one of the reasons I made the Crystal Girl, to show what can be done with it.’
‘Like making a giant building with it,’ the Earl put in, referring to Paxton’s design. ‘Do you think it will stay up?’
‘I do not doubt it.’ They were straying from the point and he endeavoured to bring it back on line. ‘I am happy for you to talk to my lawyer and satisfy yourself as to my ability to support Lady Esme in the manner you would wish.’
‘I am afraid…’ The Earl looked discomforted for a moment. ‘Oh, dash it, can’t beat about the bush. Things are not what they were, the old ways are declining and with it my ability to stump up a dowry of any consequence. Did you know that?’
‘No, I did not,’ he said carefully. ‘But it doesn’t make a jot of difference.’
‘Hmph,’ his lordship said thoughtfully. ‘I suppose we are to have another artisan in the family.’
‘Why not?’ the Countess demanded. ‘Myles is a good man, a rock and Lucy is happy, so why not Esme?’
‘Very well, Pendlebury, you have my permission.’
‘Thank you, my lord.’ He did not attempt to hide his relief. ‘But I have to tell you something else before I go and it concerns certain rumours circulating in town, which, though untrue, I have been unable to scotch.’
The Earl looked warily at him. ‘If you mean there is a scandal or an impediment, I withdraw that permission.’
Felix was afraid of that. ‘Will you hear me out first, my lord? Your daughter, Lady Lucinda, has told me you are a fair man who will allow me a hearing.’
‘Go on.’ It was said quietly, but Felix was aware that some of the goodwill had gone from the interview.
‘It concerns work I have been doing for the Duke of Wellington for the safety of the realm before and during the Exhibition. You have perhaps heard rumblings that revolutionaries might use the Exhibition to spread discontent among British workers.’
‘Oh, there are always rumblings. Do not tell me there is any substance in them.’
‘There might be. You may also have heard that a certain Patrick Connelly had been arrested and that a money draft in my name was found in his possession.’
‘No, I had not. I’ve been too busy on the estate to read the newspapers as thoroughly as I should and I no longer interest myself in politics.’
‘The money was paid on behalf of Viscount Gorridge to settle a gambling debt. He is my cousin, you know, and I promised his mother I would look out for him.’
‘That worm!’ his lordship exclaimed. ‘You had better go on.’
‘Why did he want you to pay his gambling debts?’ the Countess asked. ‘He is a very wealthy
man.’
Felix managed a wry smile. ‘That is what he would have everyone believe, but it is not true. Not yet. The late Viscount Gorridge left everything in the hands of trustees until Edward reaches the age of thirty-five or until he marries, whichever is the sooner. That is why he is pursuing Lady Esme.’
‘Esme!’ the Earl exclaimed. ‘Over my dead body! Surely he has not been encouraged?’
‘Only by Lady Trent.’
‘Rosemary?’ queried her ladyship. ‘Surely she knows better than to suppose—’ She broke off, evidently distressed.
‘He has convinced her and everyone else that the whole thing was a misunderstanding, that he is very sorry for it and has turned over a new leaf.’
‘He tried to tell me the same thing at his father’s funeral,’ his lordship said. ‘In view of the solemnity of the occasion I refrained from telling him exactly what I thought of that.’
‘And that is why he is saying you have forgiven him and made up your quarrel.’
‘The devil he is!’ He thought about this for a minute and then something else struck him. ‘What was this whatever-his-name-is arrested for?’
‘Patrick Connelly. He is a known troublemaker and was arrested speaking to a meeting in a hostelry in Seven Dials and inciting his listeners to violence.’
‘And is Viscount Gorridge implicated?’
‘If, as I suspect, the gambling debt was a ruse to discredit me and stop me from doing my duty, then I am almost certain he is. Ruining my reputation would bar me from marrying Lady Esme. That is why he will not go to the authorities and exonerate me, which he could easily do.’
‘I am sorry for that,’ his lordship said. ‘But, you understand, my permission to approach Lady Esme is conditional on you clearing your name.’
‘I would not have it otherwise, my lord.’
‘Perhaps you should return to London as speedily as possible,’ the Countess said. ‘Goodness knows what that man will get up to in your absence.’
‘I intend to do that.’
‘Stay and have a meal first. The Earl will have the gig got out and one of the men will take you to the station to catch your train.’
‘Thank you.’
He ate with them and chatted about his work and his plans for the future and the controversy over the Exhibition until it was time to go. It was only after he had gone that the London newspapers arrived and the Earl, perusing them for news of Connelly’s arrest, which he had missed before, found the article about the man’s death and the hints that it was a member of the British aristocracy behind it, though it named no names, the short biography they printed left him in no doubt it was Lord Pendlebury.
Sir Robert Peel’s death, far from putting an end to the Exhibition, increased the enthusiasm of its supporters, who maintained it should go ahead as a mark of respect, and Colonel Sibthorp’s motion was heavily defeated, much to the chagrin of Rowan and Rosemary and their neighbours in Kensington and Knightsbridge who would have to come to terms with it. Colonel Sibthorp was reported to have said he advised anyone residing near the park to keep a sharp lookout for their cutlery and serving maids and Rosemary declared she would not be visiting it, considering the riff-raff who were being encouraged to come. ‘We are thinking of taking ourselves off to Luffenham Hall for the duration,’ she told her sisters. ‘We will have a new baby by then and I really could not put up with all the disruption.’
Lucy and Myles did not agree and it might have caused a strained atmosphere in the Trent household, but fortunately Rowan and Myles were out for most of the time and Rosemary was too taken up with Esme’s ball to give vent to her feelings as freely as she might otherwise have done. Lucy, ever the diplomat, held her tongue.
As for Esme, she had only one thing on her mind and that was Felix. She was restless and afraid and quite unable to put her mind to the preparations which were at fever pitch. In spite of Rowan saying it was being hushed up, the news that a peer of the realm had engineered Connelly’s death to stop him talking was spread across the front of the newspapers. Lucy had told Myles about Maillet, but what he had done about it, she did not know. And where was Felix? Was he in hiding? And why was everyone so determined to make a villain of him, when anyone with any sense must know he was nothing of the sort? How could she communicate with him and he with her? How could she enjoy her ball, when he might be anywhere, might even have been attacked and killed just as Connelly was killed? The very thought of that made her feel sick and faint. Why had they not arrested Maillet?
‘My dearest, how can they?’ Lucy said, when she asked her on the morning of the ball. ‘There is only your word for what he said to Lord Gorridge and they could easily say you misunderstood. They might also say that your passing on what you thought you heard alerted Lord Pendlebury to his danger and that was why he disappeared. It would strengthen the belief that he was behind it.’
‘But we know Felix couldn’t do anything so dreadful.’ They were sitting side by side on Esme’s bed; it was the only place Esme felt safe from interruption by Rosemary and even then they were speaking in low voices.
‘Yes, we do, but don’t forget he has been out of the country and, in spite of his title and manners, he is not well-known to the beau monde. Even those who welcomed him earlier in the season are turning against him. You know how they love to gossip and this is a particularly meaty tidbit.’
‘Can’t Myles do something?’
‘He is doing all he can.’
‘I wish I could cancel the ball. I wish I could go home. I wish, oh, how I wish Felix would come…’
‘He might be arrested if he did, you must see that, Esme. And Rosemary cannot cancel the ball. Everything is ready, the food, the musicians, the flowers, the extra staff and your gown, not to mention invitations accepted. But it isn’t just that, it’s a question of pride. No one knows how involved you are with Lord Pendlebury and it must stay that way until he clears his name.’
‘But I want to defend him, I want to shout it from the rooftops, not pretend I do not know him.’
‘I know, my dear, I know. Be patient.’
‘And there is Lord Gorridge.’
‘Forget him.’
‘How can I? He is for ever sending flowers and little gifts, as if he is confident I will accept him. Only this morning a messenger brought a necklace and ear drops which he wanted me to wear tonight.’
‘You won’t, will you? It would be as good as accepting him.’
‘I sent them back. Then he sent a note saying he will bring them himself when he hopes I will be in a kinder mood. Rosie is furious with me. She says it is all very well to keep a suitor dangling, but a man like Viscount Gorridge will lose patience in the end. I am fast losing patience myself and if she says one more word I shall tell her so.’
Lucy hugged her. ‘Everything will turn out for the best, you’ll see. Now we had better go downstairs and help with the preparations. Rosemary is working herself up into a panic.’
The servants, both permanent and temporary, were dashing hither and thither at the behest of Rosemary. ‘Put those flowers on the table there,’ she was telling one maid. ‘No, on second thoughts put them nearer the dais in the corner where they won’t get knocked over.’ She turned to another on hands and knees polishing the ballroom floor with beeswax. ‘Put some elbow grease into it, Martha, or you’ll have everyone slipping over on the polish. And, Daisy, you haven’t dusted this chair.’ To a couple of footman struggling into the dining room with extra chairs and tables, she said, ‘Make haste, Cook wants to put some of the cold dishes out. She hasn’t room to move in the kitchen…’ And so it went on.
‘Do calm down, Rosie,’ Lucy said when they joined her. ‘There is plenty of time.’
‘No, there isn’t, and you might lend a hand instead of hiding away. And, Esme, are your clothes laid out ready? You will have to have your underthings on when the hairdresser arrives this afternoon.’
‘I know.’
‘Rosie, stop worrying,’ Luc
y said. ‘It is not a matter of life and death.’
‘I don’t want to be found wanting as a hostess. Everything must run smoothly from beginning to end.’
‘I am sure it will,’ Esme told her. ‘So take a rest or you will be worn out. You know Dr Peters said you should not tire yourself. You don’t want anything to happen to the baby, do you? It is much more important than my ball.’ She took her sister by the arm and led her into the little back parlour and made her sit down with her feet on a stool. ‘Now, since the servants are too busy, Lucy and I will fetch something for us to eat and we will sit and talk of anything but the ball.’
They tried. They talked of Caroline Merton’s betrothal to Bertie Wincombe, which had taken everyone by surprise. ‘Sly little baggage,’ Rosie commented. ‘I thought he was dangling after you, Esme, but I suppose he could see which way the wind was blowing.’
‘I never considered him and would not,’ Esme said.
‘I hope Rowan is not late back. It would be dreadful if the guests arrive before he does.’
‘He said he would return in good time,’ Lucy said.
No one mentioned Lord Gorridge, which would undoubtedly set Rosie off again and then she would quarrel with Lucy, who had already said she said she would lose herself in the crowd to avoid speaking to the man. If Esme had had her way he would not even have been invited. Esme, who loved both her sisters, could not bear to hear them quarrelling. She let them talk and went off in a dream world of her own where Felix arrived for her ball and was received as an honoured guest and they danced every dance together and he whispered sweet words of love in her ear and kissed her. She shut her eyes and allowed her imagination to run riot until Rosemary’s voice roused her and told her that her bath water was being taken upstairs and she had better go up or it would grow cold and she would not be ready when the hairdresser came.
The Trents, not to be outdone when it came to luxury, had converted two of their upper rooms into bathrooms and it was to one of these Esme went to begin her preparations. She was still thinking of Felix, still hoping he would somehow come to the ball and so her ablutions and toilette were made with him in mind. She lay back and soaked in lavender-scented water and imagined Felix kneeling beside the bath, talking to her. He was admiring her naked body and reaching out to touch face and arms and breasts. She was so lost in the erotic sensation this produced that when one of the maids touched her accidentally, she almost jumped out of her skin and began busily soaping herself.