by Carola Dunn
Theo, whose mama rendered him as speechless as anyone and was probably to blame for his disability, had managed to give the impression that Lady Ruth was the recipient of his attentions. His groom, who reported regularly on his master’s activities, had confirmed that Lord Theodore frequented the house in Curzon Street and was to be seen driving Lady Ruth and a companion in the park almost daily.
Ruth was subjected to an inspection and interrogation that made her understand absolutely why Theo had chosen a diplomatic career. The great object of his life must be to escape from England and the marchioness. He stood by helplessly, looking at Ruth with beseeching spaniel eyes, while Lady Radnor enquired as to her family, her fortune, her brother’s politics, the extent of the Cornish estate, and added a number of personal questions.
Lord Sarbury was filled with admiration at the way she fielded those questions she did not wish to answer, without offending her ladyship. Without ever straying from the truth, she succeeded in reinforcing Lady Radnor’s conviction that she was the object of Theo’s affection.
At last the marchioness graciously and majestically pronounced herself pleased and rose to take her leave.
“I shall be happy if you will take a dish of tea with me one afternoon, Lady Ruth,” she declared. “I shall be at home on Tuesday next.”
Ruth curtsied, feeling that she had received a royal command. At the last minute, Theo found his tongue.
“Thank you,” he whispered gratefully, and added, with a defiant look after the marchioness, “I am going to the City now.”
“Yes, do,” said Ruth, shaking his hand warmly.
Aware that Theo was not a rival, Lord Sarbury was free to express his admiration of the way Ruth had managed Lady Radnor.
“Our corps diplomatique loses a great deal by not employing females,” he told her. “You would clearly be a vast improvement over poor Barrington. I don’t know when I have seen a neater cross cut.”
Ruth looked enquiry.
“I beg your pardon, Lady Ruth. Boxing cant. A successful cross cut requires a certain talent at misdirection.”
Ruth blushed.
“I hope you do not think I am in the habit of misleading people, Lord Sarbury. Theo looked so despairing, I could not fail him. I suppose his mama would not approve of Rose.”
“I’m afraid not. Lady Radnor is notoriously high in the instep. However, with you as their friend, I daresay they will come about. If there is anything I can do to help, you must not hesitate to ask.”
“How kind you are, sir,” said Ruth absently. “I wonder if she knows how rich the Pardoes are? After all, Theo is a younger son.
“I hope you do not mean to ask me to drop a word in Lady Radnor’s ear!” Lord Sarbury laughed, slightly nervously.
“No, of course not. All the same...”
His lordship, who had noticed a family resemblance between Miss Pardoe and the mysterious Oliver, was not at all willing to allow Lady Ruth to dwell on the Pardoe wealth. Not that he would for a moment suspect her of being mercenary, but he thought it just as well to remind her of his own wide estates and his plans for increasing the revenue therefrom.
* * * *
When Theo arrived at the Pardoes’, he found Rose holding court. Two or three of the gentlemen surrounding her were gazetted fortune hunters, as he noted with displeasure. However, one was a viscount he knew to be almost as rich as Golden Ball. Not for a minute did he regard any of these rivals as serious competition. Without any exchange of vows, he and Rose were as certain of each other as if the Archbishop of Canterbury had married them years before.
Rose saw that he was anxious to speak to her alone, and soon showed her diplomacy to be quite the equal of Ruth’s. Within ten minutes, five gentlemen had departed, unaware that they had been dismissed. Lieutenant Drake took a little longer.
“That was amazingly neat,” he commented admiringly. “I know any number of ladies who would give their souls to have that knack. Now, how do you propose to get rid of me, Miss Pardoe?”
“I had thought of asking Lord Theodore to take you by the scruff of the neck,” she answered sweetly. “I hope it will not prove necessary, sir?”
“Not at all, not at all,” he said in mock alarm. “I concede the field, Theo. Do not waste your victory!”
Lady Pardoe was deep in conversation with Lady Holland, the great Whig hostess, who had honoured her with a visit after being introduced at the Owingtons’ ball.
Seating himself on the sofa beside Rose, Theo told her about his mother’s interview with Ruth.
“I know it is spineless of me,” he confessed, “but I am terrified of Mama. I always was, even when I was a child. My mind just goes blank when she speaks to me, and my sisters are almost as bad. You are the first woman I have ever been comfortable with, Rosie.”
“I expect Lady Radnor and your sisters were not kind to you when you were little. Such things make a great impression on a small child and are not easily overcome later in life. You are very sure that your mama will disapprove of me?”
“I’m afraid so, Rose, for when Elvira married Sir Henry she was up in the boughs forever because he was only a baronet. And he is from an old County family, so you see...”
“I see, Theo, but perhaps you have not considered that Papa is very wealthy. Would not Lady Radnor...”
“Rose, you do not think that I am after your money, do you? I could not bear that you should think so.”
“Indeed, I do not! I hope I know you better. I never thought it for a minute, pray do not look so downcast. Only you will not be offended if I say that perhaps it may be otherwise with your mother. She must wish to see you comfortably established, you know.”
“I know nothing of the sort,” he responded gloomily. “Sometimes I think all she cares for is her own consequence. However, I do not like to deceive her, and I cannot pretend forever that it is Lady Ruth I wish to marry.”
Since this was the first time Lord Theodore had actually mentioned marriage, Rose took it as a sort of backhanded proposal. This was not, she felt, the proper time to tease him about it.
“Suppose you were to visit me here in Curzon Street,” she suggested. “Your mama would be bound to find out, and then you might gauge her feelings.”
Theo shivered and then squared his shoulders.
“I do not like to think of her reaction,” he admitted, “but I cannot go on being a lily-livered coward all my life. Lend me your strength, Rosie.”
She took his hand and pressed it. “Everything I have is yours, Theo, and together we can face anything.”
“Besides,” he pointed out practically, “I shall soon be sent abroad again, and then we shall be quite safe.”
They turned to a delightful discussion of the various parts of the world he might be sent to and the pleasures of living in the different capitals of Europe.
Lady Holland, rising to leave, saw the two heads bent together over some sketches of Madrid.
“Is not that Radnor’s brother?” she asked her hostess in her loud voice. “If he can catch your daughter, ma’am, he does well for himself, very well. Tories to a man, the Barringtons, and always have been. Goodbye, Lady Pardoe. I hope I will see you and Sir Edward at my next dinner.”
Nodding regally to Theo and Rose, who stood bowing and curtsying in confusion, she swept out.
Lady Pardoe, who had met Lord Theodore only once and was but vaguely aware that Rose had seen him frequently at the Hadricks’, was somewhat confused herself.
“I do beg your pardon, my lord,” she began in a flustered way.
Theo at once tried to put her at ease.
“Do not consider it, I beg you, ma’am.” Stunned to find himself fluently addressing a lady he scarcely knew, he rushed on. “Lady Holland is known for her... frankness, and besides, I agree with her. I shall consider myself the happiest and luckiest man in the world if Miss Pardoe will wed me.”
Two second-hand proposals in one day, thought Rose, and kissed him on the cheek.
/> Neither the speech nor the action was calculated to soothe Lady Pardoe’s nerves. Fortunately she was not in the least given to hysterics, and soon the situation had been explained to her.
“I intend to marry Rose whatever my mother says,” Theo announced firmly. Proposal number three, counted Rose. “But naturally I should prefer her consent. And, of course, I shall ask Sir Edward’s permission to pay my addresses.”
“And I should wish for your blessing, Mama, and Papa’s too, but I intend to marry Theo regardless. I’ll live with him in a garret in Moscow if necessary!”
“I hardly think it will prove necessary, Rosie!” Lady Pardoe did not know whether to laugh or cry. “You know that even if Papa disapproved of your choice he would never cast you off. I... I hope we shall have the opportunity of becoming better acquainted with Lord Theodore before he carries you off to China.”
Theo promised fervently that he would spend as much time in her house as he was permitted.
As a result, Ruth saw nothing of Rose for several days. She was very busy herself, and her aunt would not allow her to cry off any of her engagements in order to visit the Pardoes. Though she had little time for repining, when she found an odd minute to herself she wondered if Oliver had persuaded Rose to stay away. She was sure he would not do so deliberately, but perhaps he had let drop something that had had that effect.
Lady Hadrick was pleased at the Pardoes’ absence.
“It will not do, you know, to have them always on our doorstep,” she said with satisfaction. “Such callers as we receive these days will not be wishing to meet with Cits at every turn.”
“Ruth takes good care that none of the most eligible gentlemen speak to me,” complained Letty. “I’m sure I cannot guess what they see in her to keep them dangling after her.”
“Keep them dangling! Indeed, it would be a very good thing if she did make an effort, after all I’ve done for her. There’s Lord Theodore Barrington, not been seen for days, and what I’d like to know, miss, is just what you did to give him a distaste for your company?”
“I did nothing, Aunt.”
“Nothing! Upon my word, that is a very casual attitude!”
“After all, Aunt, Ruth is nearly thirty years of age,” put in Letty. “You must not blame her if upon closer acquaintance her fine beaux hedge off.” She tittered.
“There is still Lord Sarbury,” mused Lady Hadrick. “He’s a better catch than Lord Theodore, certainly. A peer, and born hosed and shod. I daresay he must be worth fifty thousand a year, or more. Ruth, if you play fast and loose with Lord Sarbury, I shall disown you, I vow! You must make a push to capture his affections, for he shows no interest in your sister.”
“Ruth does not care a groat if she ruins my chances of a creditable connection. She is the most provoking sister in the world, and I’m sure it is all one to me if she dwindles into an old maid.”
* * * *
Lord Sarbury was Ruth’s only comfort, and her aunt bid fair to spoil that. He seemed to realise that she was unhappy and, without inquisitive prying, redoubled his efforts to cheer and console her. Whenever it was fine they walked or drove in the park. He took her to see Lord Elgin’s Marbles, which the government was considering purchasing at an exorbitant price, and to Westminster Abbey, and Vauxhall Gardens. They met every evening at parties and balls, and soon their names were being coupled by anyone who could spare breath from the Byron scandal.
Lady Hadrick was aux anges, and it was this that brought Ruth to earth. She found Lord Sarbury entertaining and was grateful for his attempts to distract her from her sorrows, but she did not wish to marry him. Suddenly she was besieged by sly enquiries as to when the announcement would be made. Turning to his lordship for a disavowal, she surprised a proprietorial gleam in his eye just like the one in Theo’s that had amused her. In Lord Sarbury, it appalled her.
Had she led him to expect that she would look upon his advances with pleasure? Was it her fault that he seemed so certain of her? She looked back in her mind at her behaviour of the past week. It was impossible to deny to herself that she had certainly appeared to encourage him.
Faced with the prospect of attempting to persuade him that he was mistaken in her feelings, when he had not even proposed to her, she wondered if it might not be preferable simply to marry him. She was sure he would be a kind, considerate husband. She could not tell him he must not ask for her hand, and equally impossible, she could not let him offer his heart in the expectation of her acceptance and then reject him. It would be so much easier to let things take their course, to float with the tide, to say yes and receive the congratulations of all her acquaintance.
Then Lord Sarbury took her to St Paul’s. Looking up at the dome, the double dome, she felt tears she could not suppress well into her eyes and overflow.
“I... I’m sorry,” she choked. “I can’t...”
“Ruth, what is it?” Lord Sarbury put his arm about her shoulders and offered his handkerchief. “Did I say something...”
“No, oh no. It’s just... please, will you take me to Rose? It’s not far, just across the street. Please!”
“Of course, my dear,” soothed the bewildered gentleman. At least, he hoped he was bewildered but rather suspected he was not.
Ruth, still weeping, was delivered into Lady Pardoe’s welcoming embrace and put straight to bed.
“Don’t tell me anything now,” said Lady Pardoe firmly, as she tried incoherently to explain without mentioning Oliver. “You are burnt to the socket, my poor child. I cannot think what your aunt is about to let things reach this state! Sleep now, and we shall talk later.”
A long sleep did wonders for Ruth’s composure. When she woke it was dusk. She lay luxuriating in the warm comfort of her bed, remembering her first morning in this house, when she had awoken early in this very chamber, with all the world awaiting her. Perhaps her misery had been caused by fatigue, all her problems blown way out of proportion.
There was a light knock at the door and Lady Pardoe entered. She came to sit on the edge of the bed and took Ruth’s hand.
“I am sorry to disturb you, my dear, but I must send a message to your aunt. You are looking much more the thing. Do you wish to return to Curzon Street? You know you are more than welcome to spend the night here.”
“May I, Lady Pardoe? We are supposed to go to a musicale tonight, and I do not feel at all like doing so. I should like of all things to stay here.”
“Ruth, you may stay as long as you wish. I hope you will not think me presumptuous if I say that I do not believe that Lady Hadrick takes good care of you. She must be quite preoccupied with finding a husband for Lady Laetitia, not to notice that you have overtaxed your strength. I wish you will consider staying with us for a week or two on what young gentlemen call a ‘repairing lease.’”
“I should love to, only I shall have to consult my aunt, and I would not want my uncle to be offended. May I stay tonight, and I will see them in the morning?”
“Of course, child. Do you feel up to coming down to dinner? There will be no guests, only a young man who is almost one of the family.”
“Not Lord Theodore? Are he and Rose engaged? That is why she has not been to see me!” cried Ruth.
“They are not formally betrothed yet. Rose will tell you all about it, I am sure. Theo has practically lived here for the past week, so we have scarce missed Oliver.”
“Oliver is not at home?” Ruth hovered between disappointment and relief.
“He went to Manchester on business a week since. Now you lie here and rest, and I shall write a note to your aunt. I’ll ask her to send a gown for you to change into.”
Ruth lay back. Oliver was in Manchester! No wonder then that she had not seen him. She should have remembered that he travelled frequently. He had been gone a week, surely he must come home soon.
Cool friendliness, she reminded herself sternly.
Chapter 16
A few minutes later, Rose came into Ruth’s chamber. Ruth
hugged her.
“My dear, I am so very happy that all is settled between you and Theo,” she congratulated. “I never doubted it from the moment you met.”
“Nor did I really,” Rose confessed. “I tried to be sober and sensible, but he is such a dear. And do you know, I believe his self-confidence has improved no end. He is talking now of tackling his mama in my behalf, and he is more frightened of her than of the rest of the world together.”
“I cannot blame him. She is a veritable dragon. Oh, Rose, I have just thought—she invited me to call last Tuesday and I did not go. How very shocking! I hope Lady Radnor did not fly up in the boughs with Theo on my account?”
“Theo said she cut up very stiff, but he did not heed it as he was quite pleased that she was disillusioned with you! I think that was the moment when he realised that he might stand up to her, so it was a very good thing that you did not appear. You must have been amazingly busy to forget such an engagement.”
“I have been a regular gadabout, Rosie. Your mama thinks I have gone the pace too much, and I am inclined to agree with her. Do you know that I have got the reputation of a dashing female? It is all because of those gowns I purchased from Mademoiselle Denise. When I wear them, my character seems quite changed and I do not know myself.”
“I expect it is because people treat you quite differently. Do you enjoy being the Toast of the Town?”
“Oh, I’m not quite that! It was very pleasant at first, being so popular and never sitting out a dance, but it is very wearing, and I came to long for a quiet evening at home. One does not have time to consider one’s actions properly. Rose, I very much fear I have misled Lord Sarbury, and I do not know what to do.”
It was a great relief to Ruth to tell Rose all about her suitor and to ask her advice.
“Well, I do not think you need feel guilty,” said Rose consideringly when she finished. “It is quite commonplace for a lady to prefer one of her beaux above the others without having any serious intentions toward him, and the old tabbies are always jumping the gun. Certainly you need not marry him!”