Far Beyond Rubies

by Rosemary Morris

  Ravenstock grinned. “I hope my taste is faultless. If you agree it is, perhaps you will permit me to visit your protégée tomorrow.”

  “I doubt you will find us at home,” Barbara replied, too astute to create a scandal by refusing to receive a Viscount.

  “In that case, I shall cast myself on your porter’s mercy by begging to be allowed to await your return.”

  Barbara inclined her head, and then ushered Juliana and Aphra toward the plump, grey-haired duchess, gowned in oyster-coloured satin and bedecked with diamonds in old-fashioned settings.

  “Lord Ravenstock is very handsome,” Aphra whispered to Juliana. “Why did you not introduce him to me?”

  “Ravenstock is not fit company for you,” Juliana said, almost ill from the effort of controlling her temper.

  “Why?” Aphra asked.

  “This is not the right time to speak of him,” Juliana whispered, conscious of curious people.

  Aphra half turned to look at Viscount Ravenstock as though she wanted to eat him.

  His lordship noticed Aphra and made an elegant bow.

  “Come, Sister,” Barbara urged. “It is of no use to languish over a depraved man. Believe me when I say Ravenstock is wicked, despite his divine appearance.” Devoid of facial expression she curtsied to the duchess.

  “Juliana, my dear.” The duchess smiled at Barbara. “Lady Barbara, who is this pretty young lady?”

  “My sister, Lady Aphra.”

  “Welcome to Plimpton House,” Her Grace said before she turned her attention to Juliana. “Your late father is greatly missed at court.” She tapped Juliana’s face with her fan. “Moreover, society has missed your pretty face, my dear.”

  “You are too kind, Your Grace,” Juliana said, eyeing William, who sat on a chair between his wife and Ravenstock.

  William, Juliana thought, has always lacked imagination. She gasped and then pressed her hand to her throat. More than likely he had sent Henrietta to the school which Sophia’s cousins had attended. Of course, having accused them of being bastards he had said he would send Henrietta to school in London. Why had she not thought of that? Unfortunately, it was too late to act tonight. She would visit the school first thing tomorrow.

  “Mistress Kemp, are you unwell?” the duchess asked.

  She must learn to conceal her emotions. “Thank you for your concern, Your Grace. I am quite well.”

  “You must visit me. One has heard—” she broke off, “but I must not repeat gossip, Mistress Kemp.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Juliana’s hostess urged her to lie abed in the mornings and, like her, eat a slice or two of bread and butter while reading The Spectator, but Juliana possessed too much energy to do so. Instead she rose early.

  Acquainted with her ladyship’s morning routine, Juliana did not disturb Barbara between eleven and one. During those hours, James and Margaret visited Barbara before she completed her toilette, and received admirers who advised her on such important matters as whether to place a patch high on her cheekbone or by her mouth. Only when Barbara’s toilette met with her complete approval did she sally forth from her bedchamber.

  Juliana doubted she would ever emulate Barbara. She preferred to be dressed by ten of the clock in order to take the air, either on horseback, attended by several grooms, or on foot, protected by lackeys. The necessity of an armed escort irked her. Nevertheless she accepted it to ensure William had no opportunity to kidnap her.

  On the day after the Duchess of Plimpton’s musical evening, while Barbara drank her morning chocolate in bed, Juliana’s first impulse was to visit the school in which she suspected Henrietta had been placed. Logic advised her against doing so, for William had most likely given instructions which forbade Henrietta receiving visitors. She considered writing a letter to inquire whether or not Henrietta attended the school, but decided against it for, in all probability, the proprietress would deny Henrietta was in attendance. Even worse, she might send a message to alert William that a visitor made inquiries about the child.

  Juliana waited for Gervaise to wake, and brooded all the while over her sister’s welfare. However, after being informed he had not returned home from his club until dawn, she went riding to pass the weary time until she could speak to him, and together, formulate a plan to rescue Henrietta.

  Upon her return from St. James Park, Wilson informed her Viscount Ravenstock awaited her in an anteroom.

  The anger, which twisted her guts on the previous evening, returned. She swished her riding crop backward and forward. Under usual circumstances it would be a sign of ill breeding to refuse to receive his lordship. She would be well within her rights to do so because Barbara had told Ravenstock they would not receive him. Infuriated by his audacity, she decided to send him about his business.

  “Wilson,” Juliana began, “conduct his lordship to the dining room where I shall partake of a dish of Bohea tea and some bread and butter. Also, have Lord Carr and Lady Barbara informed the viscount is here.” She handed her riding crop to a lackey, stripped off her leather gloves, and then gave them to him. “On no account are the lackeys to leave me alone with his lordship.”

  Satisfaction lurked in the depths of the butler’s eyes. Juliana assumed he had accepted a bribe from the viscount.

  Wilson bowed. “It shall be as you please, Mistress Kemp.”

  “I do please, no matter how great the sum he gave you,” she said, too low for the lackeys to overhear.

  To ensure obedience, Juliana employed her frequently practised stare; the one she used to quell servants since she became mistress of her father’s house at the age of fifteen. It was, she had decided long ago, worthy of a basilisk.

  Juliana handed the butler her tall-crowned riding hat, noting the result of her fixed gaze heightened the colour in his cheeks. She turned to make her way to the dining room, and was about to be seated when Ravenstock, splendidly attired in a sky blue velvet suit and a long cream brocade waistcoat, strode in. Hand on heart, he bowed. “M’dear Mistress Kemp, how glad I am to see you are not dressed in mourning. One would hesitate to approach a lady in the throes of extreme grief.”

  Truly a fascinating man, she thought, but one would expect a philanderer successful with the opposite sex to practice charm, even as he practiced the art of fencing.

  She made the smallest curtsey consistent with good manners.

  Ravenstock assessed her with bold eyes which brought hot blushes to her cheeks. “Had I known you wished to ride, Mistress Kemp, I would have been pleased to accompany you.”

  “How kind of you, my lord, but I never wish to ride with you.”

  A lackey pulled back a chair at the upper end of the table. Juliana sat down, indicating his lordship should be seated on a chair at the farthest end of the table. To her annoyance, Ravenstock seated himself next to her.

  “Coffee, my lord?”

  “Faugh! Coffee!” the viscount exclaimed.

  “You will be served nothing stronger at this hour of the day,” Juliana said and poured some for herself.

  A lackey offered Ravenstock a silver serving plate of thin cut bread lavishly spread with butter. His lordship eyed it with palpable disgust, and then shook his head. “Nursery fare.”

  “I believe you have something of a particular nature to discuss with me, Viscount?” Eager for the man to be gone, she did not intend to waste time on polite conversation.

  “By m’faith, you are remarkably direct for a female. Will you not smile, Mistress Kemp? I have noticed you have the prettiest dimples in the world. Stop me if they have not captured m’heart.”

  She sipped her tea, gazing at him over the rim of the blue and white china dish.

  “Ah, you wish me to come to the point?”

  “I am surprised you realised that.”

  “Very well, I do not doubt your fool of a brother has spoken of the matter closest to my heart.”

  “Half-brother,” she corrected him. “And,” she added ironically, “there is no nee
d for you to sugar coat your words, my lord.”

  Another lackey, bearing a silver tray on which a selection of conserves and honey had been set out, entered through the door behind Ravenstock and left it open.

  Clad in a crimson nightgown, his thick chestnut hair loose around his shoulders, Gervaise stood at the threshold.

  Again Juliana’s stomach twisted, this time with relief. Thank God! The sooner she rid herself of Ravenstock’s company the sooner she could tell Gervaise she believed she knew where her sister was.

  She opened her mouth to say good morning to Gervaise, but he put a finger to his lips, indicating she should not greet him.

  “You were about to say something?” Ravenstock prompted.

  “Nothing of importance, my lord.” The viscount had sharp eyes. She must be careful not to glance repeatedly at Gervaise.

  With an effort, she forced herself to pay attention to Ravenstock.

  “Mistress Kemp, as you so promptly reminded me, Lord Kemp is your half-brother. Indeed, m’dear, I understand why the distinction is important to you. I would not care to have so spineless a relative. Now, as I was about to say, I doubt not Lord Kemp has informed you that if you marry me, your marriage portion will be Riverside House and all the income deriving from the estate.”

  She faced Ravenstock without blinking and simultaneously putting her empty dish down so hard that it clacked against the table. “Why?”

  “I beg your pardon.”

  “Why do you want to marry me?”

  “Would you believe me if I said you have captured m’heart?” He scrutinised her. “Ah, judging by your icy expression, you would not believe me. I suspect you are the rarest of creatures, a clever young lady, for only an intelligent one would refuse to live with that boor, Lord Kemp, and his shrew of a wife.”

  Juliana’s mouth twitched. She appreciated his description of William and Sophia so much that she almost liked him.

  “Mistress Kemp, instead of courting you with sweet words, I shall be honest. Please believe me when I, a connoisseur of beautiful women, say you are so exceptional that I might fall in love with you.” He tilted his chin. “Who knows whether you might reciprocate my love? It is not beyond the bounds of possibility that we could sail on the sea of matrimonial felicity.”

  She shook her head unable to imagine sailing on any sea with him.

  “We suit each other,” Ravenstock murmured. “Your virtue is in juxtaposition to m’misspent youth. That, Mistress Kemp, is another reason why you shall marry me. I have wasted the family fortune so I must marry an heiress.”

  “There are other heiresses.”

  “Which prudent father would entrust his daughter to me? As for marrying far below my rank for the sake of a fortune, I will not wed the daughter of a banker, a tradesman, or some other person in business. So, what have you to say to m’proposal?”

  She clasped her hands tight on her lap. “I decline it. Please leave, there is naught else to be said.”

  “You are mistaken. You should not be so hasty.”

  Juliana breathed deeply. “Were I ill-favoured, would you want to wed me to gain Riverside?”

  “Yes. Now, dismiss the lackeys. I have something to say which is only for your ears.” He glanced at both servants and then flicked his forefinger and thumb at them. The lackeys ignored the signal. The viscount chuckled. “Of course, Mistress Kemp, the servants will spread gossip about m’proposal and your unwise refusal. Is it not the sorry nature of servants to chatter about their betters? However, if you wish for even more gossip, I shall continue to speak in their presence. Oh, do not look so hesitant, m’dear, I shall not ravish you. If I had decided to do so, no wooden-faced servants would prevent me. I could have put them out of the room with ease before I turned the key in the lock.”

  Outraged, Juliana did not know how she contrived to seem calm.

  Behind Ravenstock’s back, Gervaise nodded at her.

  Her jaw tightened, but instead of revealing even a fraction of her simmering anger, she obeyed Gervaise’s silent command to dismiss the lackeys.

  With Gervaise close by, Juliana did not fear the viscount. Yet, after the servants left the dining room, Gervaise’s disappearance alarmed her until she realised the door still stood ajar, and she glimpsed a fold of his splendid nightgown. The expression on her face deliberately impassive, she strove to appear indifferent to the insult of Ravenstock’s presence. Inwardly, she rejoiced because her very own knight stood on guard.

  “What are you looking at? Are you staring at the wall to avoid facing me?” Ravenstock demanded with a hint of irritation in his voice. “You shall marry me because I have the means to send Lord Kemp to the gallows.”

  A shudder ran through her, despite her determination not to allow Ravenstock to intimidate her. After all, whatever the odious viscount possessed to incriminate William, it must surely prove her half-brother, not her late father, was a Jacobite.

  “By all means, send him to meet his Maker,” Juliana said with feigned indifference, for as much as she loathed William, she did not want his blood on her hands. Indeed, she would never, under any imaginable circumstances, want anyone’s blood on her hands.

  Ravenstock chuckled, but did not look away from her for even a second. “Never did I think to meet a lady with sangfroid to match m’own.”

  “You are mistaken, I am far from cold-blooded, my lord, but I reserve my affection for those worthy of it.”

  “I am sure you would not wish your family name to be sucked into a whirlpool of scandal. What of your sister? Would you ruin her chance of making a good marriage?”

  Her nostrils flared. “If I married you, my lord, would she not become tainted by association with you?”

  “The taste for very young flesh is not among m’many faults.”

  His brazen implication was unforgivable. Her cheeks burned.

  “Mistress Kemp, I prefer a woman grown, who either heats m’blood with her denials or pleases me with her favours. No, no, do not fire up. Judging by your red cheeks, you are indignant with me because, for once, I favour plain speech. Reflect on this, m’beauty, you are the only lady to whom I have offered marriage, and it is not m’intention to ever mistreat you. So, may I assume you will accept m’proposal?”

  “I shall consider it on three conditions.” Although she did not expect him to agree to them, one of them might result in finding Henrietta, and if not, they would buy her time to try to find the child while he considered them.

  Ravenstock leaned forward, elbows on the table, one well-manicured hand propping his chin. “Ah! Let me guess. The first is m’promise not to consummate our nuptials because your virgin sensibilities shrink from the matrimonial bed. That assurance I cannot give because I look to you to provide me with an heir. But I can reassure you, on m’honour, you will enjoy my attentions.”

  “Have you any honour left?”

  “Though sarcasm does not become you, I shall answer. Yes, I have an abundance of honour. M’sword deals punishment to any rash gentleman who impugns it. As for inferiors, m’horsewhip suffices.”

  She could not maintain her impassive expression.

  Ravenstock’s scrutiny intensified. “No, no, do not flinch. I would never lay its thong across your pretty rump.”

  Juliana’s hands tensed. She longed to slap his handsome face.

  “Now, what was I saying? Ah yes, I cannot promise not to consummate our nuptials, but after you present me with two or three sons, I promise not to enter your bedchamber again unless it is by your invitation. Yet, by then, I doubt you will bar your door for I am an accomplished lover, so you will hunger for my attentions.”

  She wanted to scratch his face, to draw blood to remove his complacency. “Has your arrogance no limits?”

  Ravenstock did not hesitate for a moment before he spoke again. “Now, permit me to guess what your second condition is. You want a large enough marriage settlement to make it unnecessary to apply to me for your needs. Well, you will not find me ungen
erous. You may spend what you like on our children, your amusements, clothes, and our household.” Ravenstock nodded as though he did not doubt her acceptance of his marriage proposal. “What of your third condition, do you wish me to swear I shall be faithful to you?”

  Juliana fought to control her temper. She took a deep breath while considering what she would say. “You are mistaken on all counts, my lord. The first condition is that my little sister is restored to me immediately.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “I know naught of your sister.”

  “What?” She tensed. “My lord, do not pretend innocence.” Her mouth quivered. “My Lord Ravenstock,” she continued, “you are hand in glove with William. I am certain you not only know my brother has abducted Henrietta, but you also know where she is.”

  “I do not. What is more, I am yet to be accused of harming children,” he said, his indignation obvious.

  “If you are telling the truth, my first condition is for you to persuade William to return Henrietta to me by any means at your disposal. My second condition is for you to persuade William to provide me with copies of both my father’s original will and his subsequent will. The third is for you to tell me if William is a papist and a Jacobite to boot.”

  Ravenstock whistled low. “You drive a hard bargain.”

  To appear composed, she poured another dish of Bohea tea, pleased because her hands remained steady. “I have stated my terms, my lord.”

  “If they are met, you will marry me?”

  “Do you accept them?”

  “I might.”

  “If you concurred with my terms, my lord, before I could agree to accept your proposal of marriage, I would need to further my acquaintance with you. Needless to say, it would be subject to my chaperone’s approval.”

  Ravenstock’s angelic blue eyes narrowed. “Should I suspect Lady Barbara might attempt to foist a lady of questionable virtue on society? Gossip about you and Beau Hindu spreads.”

  Juliana stood, goaded beyond endurance. “How dare you malign me!”

  Ravenstock chuckled. “Do not protest so vehemently. Your fortune, not your virtue, interests me.” He frowned. “Though when we marry there will be no question as to who is the father of our children.”