The Deception

by Joan Wolf

  Harry said, “Kate, don’t you know by now that you ain’t supposed to chat with the footmen while you’re eating!”

  I was annoyed. “Of course I knew that, Harry, but it’s only the family here tonight.”

  Adrian turned his head slightly. “I would be happy to procure tickets for you, Frank,” he said. “Just let me know how many, will you?”

  Frank had gone beet red. “Yes, my lord,” he said. “Thank you, my lord.” He looked at me. “Thank you, my lady.”

  I grinned at him. “You’ll love it,” I said.

  Harry shook his head. Then he asked, “Where have Paddy and Louisa gone tonight?” We had been seeing less and less of Louisa and Paddy of late; they always seemed to be busy doing something together.

  I said with great satisfaction, “I believe they ate earlier so they could go to the theater. Kean is doing Richard the Third at Drury Lane, and Paddy loves that play. It makes the English look so bad.”

  Adrian chuckled.

  “Why are you looking like that?” Harry asked me.

  I opened my eyes wide. “Like what?”

  “Like the cat that ate the cream,” Adrian said.

  I was feeling like the cat that ate the cream, but I didn’t want to say why. I smiled mysteriously and helped myself to one of the side dishes. It was green beans.

  “Doing some matchmaking, Kate?” Adrian asked.

  My eyes flew to him. “How did you know?”

  “You are not exactly inscrutable,” he said with amusement.

  “I know that Paddy is not of Louisa’s class,” I said defiantly, “and of course he is much older than she, but he is a very fine man and he has an excellent eye for a horse.”

  “How old do you think Paddy is?” Adrian asked curiously.

  “He must be sixty,” I replied.

  “He’s fifty-three,” Adrian said.

  “You’re joking me!”

  He shook his head. “I asked him.”

  “Fifty-three! But that means he’s only ten years older than Louisa.”

  Adrian took a drink of his wine. “So it does.”

  Harry said, “Paddy and Louisa can’t possibly get married, Kate.”

  “You are such a wretched snob, Harry!” I said furiously.

  “It ain’t snobbery,” he defended himself. “I think Paddy’s a great gun, but a lady like Louisa can’t live constantly traveling from one horse farm to the next.”

  “My mother lived like that, and she was a lady,” I said even more furiously than before.

  “Your mother was young,” Harry said. “Louisa’s old.”

  Well, this was true.

  “If Paddy and Louisa do decide to marry, we just shall have to find them a home,” Adrian said. “While I would not call Louisa old, she is most certainly not ready to begin a new life racketing around the countryside, and Paddy’s business would benefit from having a home stable as well.”

  I gave him a delighted smile. “What a perfectly splendid idea, my lord!”

  Harry also nodded his approval. “Will you buy them a horse farm in Ireland as a wedding gift, Adrian?”

  This comment dashed my spirits a little. It made great sense, of course, but Ireland would put them both so far away from me.

  Adrian said, “Actually, I was thinking I would give them a good lease on Lambourn.”

  “Oh,” I whispered. “That would be perfect.” I gazed at him, and I knew my heart was in my eyes, but I couldn’t help it.

  “Yes, I think it would be,” he agreed. “I know you love them both, Kate, but I really don’t want them living with us for the rest of their lives.”

  Harry said innocently, “I can’t understand why.”

  “Then I am not going to explain,” Adrian said, and Harry chuckled.

  I said, “But the decision to marry must be Louisa’s and Paddy’s. If they don’t love each other, then we must not force them. Marriages made like that always end in misery.”

  Absolute silence greeted this pronouncement. It took me a moment to make the connection, and then I turned fiery red. I looked down at my beans and thought miserably that I must have the world’s loosest tongue.

  “As usual, Kate, you are right.” I heard Adrian’s chair being pushed back. “If you will both excuse me, I have an engagement.”

  Harry and I sat in silence as he left the room. After the door had closed behind him, Harry said to me, “Damn, Kate! How could you have said such a stupid thing?”

  “I don’t know, Harry,” I said miserably. “I wasn’t thinking of us at all! I was just making a ... a generalization.”

  “Well, you made Adrian angry. A man don’t like having his wife fling into his face the fact that he was forced to marry her.”

  “I know, I know,” I wailed. “Truly, Harry, I didn’t mean it!”

  He sighed. “Don’t look so wretched, Kate. He’ll get over it.”

  “Would you like more lemonade, my lady?” my footman asked solicitously.

  I looked at him. “I think I’ll have some of that wine instead, George,” I said.

  Harry said uneasily, “Is that a good idea, Kate?” “Probably not, but I’ll have some anyway. I’m not going anywhere tonight. I think I’ll just sit here with you and get foxed.”

  * * * *

  I had three glasses of wine, and when I stood up the room tilted alarmingly. Harry had to give me his arm to get me upstairs. “Get into bed and sleep it off,” he advised me.

  “Do you think he’s going to hate me for what I said, Harry?” I asked pitifully.

  “No.” He looked at Jeanette. “Her ladyship ain’t feeling quite the thing,” he said. “Better get her straight into bed.”

  “Yes, Meester Harry,” Jeanette said. She closed the door, steered me into the room, stood me in front of the fire, and unbuttoned my dress. She was very efficient. I was in bed in less than ten minutes.

  I fell instantly asleep and knew nothing until many hours later, when I felt Adrian get in beside me.

  He was very quiet, and the feather mattress didn’t give him away, but I always woke when he came in. I opened my eyes but, except for a crack of moonlight coming in through the half-closed drapes, the room was dark. It must be quite late, I thought; the fire had burned down. He didn’t look at me but pulled the quilt up over his shoulder, turned on his side, punched the pillow into the shape that he liked, and settled himself to sleep. I lay quietly and regarded his quilt-covered back.

  “Adrian?” I finally asked in a very small voice.

  Silence.

  “Adrian, are you awake?”

  “Yes, I’m awake, Kate.” He definitely sounded reserved.

  “I’m sorry about what I said tonight,” I said.

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  “I didn’t mean that I thought our marriage would end in misery.”

  “I understand. Good night, Kate.’’

  I sniffled.

  Silence.

  I sniffled again.

  “Are you crying?” he asked dangerously.

  “No. I never cry. I am just somewhat foxed, I think.”

  Finally he turned over so that I was no longer talking to his back. “Foxed?”

  “I had quite a few glasses of wine after you left. My head still feels fuzzy.”

  “What was Harry thinking of, to let you have several glasses of wine?” he demanded.

  “He didn’t really want me to.”

  “No, I imagine he didn’t.” Now he sounded resigned.

  I said earnestly, “Adrian, I am very, very sorry about what I said tonight. The thing is, you are always so nice to me that sometimes I forget all about the circumstances of our marriage. That is what happened tonight. I wasn’t thinking about us at all!”

  He said, “Nice to you. God, Kate, you can be so dense.”

  The reserved note I hated was gone from his voice, and I wasn’t even insulted that he had called me dense. He could call me anything he wanted as long as he didn’t talk to me as if I w
as a stranger.

  “I don’t mean to be dense,” I said. “I want to be a good wife, Adrian. Truly I do.”

  He sighed. “I know you do, sweetheart. I’m sorry if I upset you. Now go back to sleep. It’s very late.”

  “Would you mind holding me for a little?” I asked.

  I could tell that he didn’t want to, but I was desperate. Finally he reached out and gathered me into his arms. His hold was careful and much too impersonal. I didn’t care. I snuggled my cheek against his shoulder and let my body relax into his. “The bed is too cold when you’re not here,” I whispered.

  “Mmmmm?”

  “Did you really have an appointment, or did you go to your club and drink wine like I did?”

  I felt the chuckle rumble through his chest. “Kate, you’re diabolical.” The arms that encircled me lost their stiffness and pulled me closer. The relief I felt was so intense that I shut my eyes. “How did you know?”

  “I’m a witch,” I murmured into his shoulder. I was really feeling sleepy now. Warm and sleepy and safe.

  “I think you must be,” I heard him say. And then I must have drifted off, because I don’t remember anything else.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Two days later, Harry escorted me to the house of Lady Marsham. I had never before had the pleasure of meeting Lady Marsham, as she was not received by the better hostesses of the ton. Lady Marsham, it seems, was addicted to games of chance, and her afternoon “salon” was nothing more than a gambling house. Harry took me because it was a house that Chalmers often frequented, and we hoped to cross paths with him there.

  My hostess received me with overwhelming enthusiasm. “My dear Lady Greystone! How lovely to meet you! How lovely to have you grace my humble salon! Do let me introduce you to a few people! Dare I hope you will join me in a game of cards!”

  She wore a purple turban and enormous earrings, and I thought I detected the smell of wine on her breath. Her large salon had brown velvet drapes on the windows and all the drapes were tightly drawn so that not a single decent ray of sunlight was able to peer inside. The room was lit by lamps, and green-baize-covered tables were set up everywhere. People were playing cards with the kind of intense concentration that denotes the serious gambler. Only a few bothered to look up when Harry and I came in. Chalmers was nowhere in sight.

  “I like whist,” I said. “Perhaps Mr. Woodrow and I can play whist together.”

  I knew that Harry was an excellent whist player—it was the one thing he was actually better at than Adrian. Thanks to Papa, I also could play a decent game. Harry and I had agreed before we came that whist would be safest.

  Lady Marsham flashed a set of yellow teeth at me, and at the same time she beckoned to a man who was lounging against the fireplace. He came to join us, and Lady Marsham introduced him as Captain Horatio Burr.

  He was a middle-aged man with a dissipated-looking face, and he spoke with an Irish accent. I knew his type immediately. Papa would not have approved of my associating with him.

  I nodded graciously. “How do you do, Captain Burr,” I said.

  “If you would like to play whist, Captain Burr and I will be happy to oblige you,” my hostess said.

  “That would be lovely,” I said to Lady Marsham’s raddled face.

  The four of us repaired to an unoccupied table near the window. I sat, making certain that my skirt did not touch the brown velvet drapes, which looked decidedly unclean, and glanced around the room while Captain Burr dealt the first hand. I did not see anyone I recognized. Thank God.

  Captain Burr turned up the last card. “Spades are trump,” he said. “You have the first bid, Lady Greystone.”

  I opened my hand, assessed my cards, and said, “One heart.”

  We had been playing for perhaps half an hour when Chalmers finally came in. I had been getting excellent hands, which Harry expertly led into every chance he had. We were winning, which is always a very pleasant sensation.

  I had just taken a trick and was scooping up the cards when I felt Harry’s foot press mine under the table. I glanced toward the door and saw Chalmers.

  We finished the game, and out of the corner of my eye I could see Chalmers crossing the stained Turkish carpet in our direction. When the last trick had been taken, and Harry was adding the money to the pile already in front of him, Lady Marsham affected to notice the man who was standing by our table.

  “Mr. Chalmers,” she said. “La, you startled me, sir!”

  “Oh, Harry,” I said with girlish enthusiasm, “is this your friend Mr. Chalmers?”

  “Indeed it is, Kate,” he replied, and proceeded to introduce us.

  “We have met once before, Lady Greystone,” Chalmers said gallantly. “Don’t you remember? In Hyde Park? You had just had an ... accident... with your horse.”

  I laughed gaily. “Oh my, yes. I fell off, you mean. It was so embarrassing.” I turned to Lady Marsham and recounted the incident.

  Captain Burr stood up. “Would you like to take my place, Chalmers?”

  The worm gave a toothy smile. “Thank you, Burr.” He sat down and the Irishman took himself off. “You are playing whist?” he asked.

  “Yes.” I gave him a big-eyed look. “Harry is so good at whist.”

  Lady Marsham said, “You are the one who has been drawing the cards this afternoon, Lady Greystone.”

  “I have always been a very lucky person,” I said, and watched from under my lashes as Chalmers and Lady Marsham exchanged a satisfied smile.

  Harry and I ended up winners on the afternoon, though the cards began to flow more evenly after Chalmers had sat down with us. The three of us exited together, and Harry left me alone with Chalmers while he went off to summon a cab.

  “You appear to be a man of the world, Mr. Chalmers,” I said. “I wonder if you might know any place in London where I could play E.O.?”

  E.O., or Even-Odd, was an illegal game of chance in which bettors placed wagers as a wheel was spun. Wheel games were not available in any reputable club; to play E.O. one had to go to a hell.

  The worm’s eyes positively glittered. “Do you like to play E.O., Lady Greystone?” he asked,

  “I’ve never played it before,” I confessed, “but I really am a very lucky person, Mr. Chalmers. I am certain that I would win at E.O.”

  His teeth flashed. They were slightly pointed—just like in the picture I had once seen of a shark. He said, “I am afraid that in order to play E.O. I would have to take you to a place where ladies don’t usually go.”

  I gave him my most dazzling smile. This was a mistake, but I didn’t realize it until later. “How exciting,” I said. “Can we go tomorrow night?”

  “Of course,” he replied. “I should be delighted to be your escort, Lady Greystone.”

  “You won’t tell my husband, will you, Mr. Chalmers?” I pouted. “Greystone is such a bore about gambling.”

  He couldn’t promise me fast enough that he wouldn’t breathe a word of the adventure to Adrian. He was such an obvious villain that I wondered how Harry could possibly have been taken in by him.

  We made hurried arrangements for the following evening, and then Harry returned with a cab. Chalmers bowed over my hand. Harry handed me into the cab. Chalmers left. Harry got in after me and I told him triumphantly, “We’re on!”

  * * * *

  The reason I did not ask Chalmers to take me to the hell that very evening was that I was engaged to go to Almack’s with Caroline. Almack’s was the club from which I had been so firmly excluded the season before. I had been immensely gratified when Caroline told me she had procured vouchers for me, but in truth the august assembly rooms had turned out to be something of a bore.

  Caroline loved to go. “You know I adore Edward,” she said to me that evening as the Greystone coach rumbled out of Grosvenor Square on its way to King Street, where Almack’s was located, “but I must confess, Kate, that it has been delightful meeting so many of my old beaux! Last night Freddie Brixton qui
te assured me that I had broken his heart when I married Ashley.”

  “Did you really break his heart?” I asked.

  Her light laughter rippled through the enclosed space. “Of course not! It’s a game, Kate. That’s why it is such fun.”

  I leaned my head back against the blue velvet seat cushion and looked at her out of the side of my eyes. “What about Charlwood?” I asked. I had never before broached this subject with her, but the opportunity was just too inviting to ignore. “Was it a game with him, Caroline?”

  All the laughter left her face. “No,” she said abruptly. “No, with Charlwood it wasn’t a game.”

  “He’s in London.” I turned my head slightly so that I could look at her. “I saw him the other night.”

  Her white-gloved hands gripped each other in her lap. “I did not know that.” She was staring straight ahead, at the empty seat opposite us. “Where did you see him, Kate?”

  “At the Bridgewater ball.”

  “Did ... did Adrian see him, too?”

  “They met. Sparks flew, but no one got hurt. There were a lot of people looking on.”

  She said despairingly, “Dear God in heaven, what a sorry mess this has turned out to be.” She turned her head slowly, as if it ached, and looked at me. “I assume you know the story?”

  “I know that you once tried to elope with him and that Adrian brought you home. I know that Charlwood has never forgiven Adrian, and that is why he forced Adrian to marry me.”

  Caroline drew a deep breath. “Yes ... well... that’s about it.”

  “I think Charlwood still loves you, Caroline,” I said.

  She was looking very distressed. “It’s been so long ... he can’t.”

  “I think he does.”

  The coach wheel went over a stone in the road, and we both bounced. When we had righted ourselves, Caroline said, “He has never married?”

  “No.”

  She was quiet.

  I asked, “Did you love him, Caroline?”

  She closed her eyes and I didn’t think she was going to answer. But finally she sighed and said, “He was such an unhappy boy, Kate. There was no one at all who cared about him. He was angry and bitter, and he struck out at other people because he was so unhappy himself. I understood that, you see, because I was unhappy, too.”