Tallie's Knight
Page 5
"Any woman would. Who in their right mind would moulder away in the
country when they could have all the delightful exhilaration of London
society? Is that your latest requirement?"
"Yes, actually--it is. I wish the mother of my children to reside with
the children, and London is no place for a child."
"What rubbish!"
"You know it's true, Tish, for you yourself keep your children here in
the country all year round."
"Yes, Magnus, the children live here all year round, not me. And that
is the difference. Why, I would go into a decline if I were buried
here for an entire year!"
"And the children--do they not miss their mother's care?"
Tallie had to stifle another laugh at that. Laetitia, a doting
mother!
The children would love her if she would let them. As it was, they
tiptoed around on their best behaviour during their mother's visits,
hoping to avoid her criticisms and sharp temper and heaving sighs of
wistful relief when she left.
"Naturally I spend as much time as I can with my darlings, but I have
my needs also, Magnus. And I have responsibilities as George's wife,
and they take place in London, which is no fault of mine. But you need
not think I neglect my children, for I leave them in the best of
care."
"Yes, I've noticed that." Lord d'Arenville's voice was thoughtful.
"Your sturdy little cousin."
Sturdy! How dared he? Sturdy? Tallie was mortally insulted. She
might not be as sylph like as Laetitia, but she was not sturdy!
"You're wandering off the point, Magnus."
Sturdy! Insensitive beast!
"Would you say that any of these young ladies would be willing to live
for, say, ten years in the country? "
"Ten years?" Laetitia's voice rose to a horrified screech.
"No sane woman would agree to that! She would die, rather! Why on
earth would you wish to immure anyone in the country for ten years,
anyway?"
There was a short silence. Tallie craned to hear, but there was
nothing. Suddenly Laetitia laughed--a hard, cynical laugh.
"Good God, you want a nun, not a wife, don't you?" She laughed
again.
"Your father tried that, if you recall, and stuck to it for all of six
months, while your mother cuckolded him with every groom, stable boy
and tenant farmer in the district. And serve him right, say I. No, you
couldn't possibly think that isolating a wife in the country would
ensure her fidelity, not after that." She laughed again.
"And if you have any doubts on the matter, dearest coz, ask George."
Lord d'Arenville said stiffly, "My decision is nothing to do with
either you or my mother. It is simply that my bride must not mind
spending my children's growing years at my country seat with them."
"Well, I wish you'd told me earlier," said Laetitia, 'for I wouldn't
have bothered wasting everyone's time with this ridiculous charade. I
am very angry with you, Magnus. I should have realised you were not
serious about wanting a bride--' "I am quite serious."
"Well, you certainly won't find one here who could accept-- " But I
have. "
"You've what?" Laetitia sounded flabbergasted.
"Don't tell me one has agreed to your outrageous terms, Magnus! Oh, I
cannot believe it. Who is she? No--do not tell me--let me guess. Lady
Helen... no, she is positively addicted to Al- mack's. And it could
not possibly be Miss Blakeney--no one so a la mode would agree to be
buried in the country for ten years. Oh, I give up Magnus, who is
she?"
There was a long pause. Tallie waited with hated breath.
Truly, she could imagine no young lady agreeing to such inhuman
terms.
It was a shame his mother had behaved so shockingly, but not all women
were like his mother and Lae- tit ia and why should an innocent wife be
punished for the things they had done?
Ten years in the country indeed! And would Lord d'Arenville confine
himself similarly to the restrictions of country life? Tallie almost
snorted out loud. Of course he would not! It was only his poor wife
who would be shut away from society, breeding his heirs like a good
little brood mare.
"Well, Magnus, don't keep me waiting all day," said Laetitia
impatiently.
"Which bride have you chosen?"
Tallie leaned against the doorhandle, eager to hear his answer.
"I have decided to wed--' Suddenly the catch gave, and Tallie tumbled
out into the night, missing his reply. Fearful that her eavesdropping
would be discovered, she pushed the door shut and slipped away. A
little irritated to be denied the juicy morsel of gossip, she hurried
towards the kitchen.
Which unfortunate young lady had Lord d'Arenville chosen for his bride?
She would find out soon enough, she supposed. Whoever it was, Tallie
did not envy her. However, it was nothing to do with her, except that
his choice would signal the end of the house party. All the unpleasant
guests would return to London, the' children would be released from
their unnatural curfew and she would return to the peaceful life she
had led before. Tallie almost skipped with joy at the prospect.
When Tallie came down to breakfast the next morning she was surprised
to find many of her cousin's guests already arisen. She paused on the
threshold, feeling dowdy and unwelcome. Still, she decided, this was
her home, and she had every right to her breakfast. Chin held high,
she entered the breakfast room.
A sudden hush fell. Tallie ignored it. No doubt they were preparing
to make sport of her yet again--the dress she wore was even shabbier
than yesterday's. She went to the sideboard and inspected the
selection of breakfast dishes, uncomfortably aware of hostile eyes
boring into her back. After a moment, the buzz of conversation
resumed. From time to time a low voiced comment reached her ears as she
slowly filled her plate.
'done rather well for herself. "
'but, my dear, one wonders what precisely she did to ensure. "
They were talking of Lord d'Arenville's bride, Tallie thought. He must
have announced his betrothal at the ball. That would explain why so
many had come down to breakfast. No doubt those who had not been
chosen wished to make an early start on the journey back to Town.
"And, of course, poor Tish is utterly furious."
"Naturally, my dear. " Would not you be? After all she's done for
her, and now this! The very ingratitude. "
"Trapped, undoubtedly."
"Oh, undoubtedly!"
Tallie wondered which of the young ladies Lord d'Arenville had
chosen.
It had to be either Miss Blakeney or Lady Helen Beresford--they were
the only two young ladies not at breakfast. That explained why she
could sense such an atmosphere of hostility in the room--failed
candidates seething with frustration and anger. Tallie tried to close
her ears to the vehement mutterings. It would be a relief when Lord
d'Arenville, Lae- tit ia and all their horrid friends had gone back to
London.
&nb
sp; "Thrusting little baggage. A man of honour ... no choice."
"And that dress last evening--positively indecent!"
"No other word for it."
Tallie began to eat her breakfast, though her appetite had quite
vanished. Her cousin's friends were quite unbearable.
"More coffee. Miss Tallie?" murmured Brooks at her ear.
A friendly face at last.
"Oh, yes, please, Brooks." Tallie beamed up at him and held her cup
out for him to refill.
As Brooks poured, Miss Fyffe-Temple, one of Tallie's neighbours,
roughly jogged his elbow. Hot coffee boiled over Tallie's hand and
arm. She leapt up with a shriek of pain.
"Oh, Miss Tallie!" exclaimed Brooks, horrified.
"How very clumsy of me, to be sure," purred Miss Fyffe- Temple.
"What a nasty red mark it has made. I do hope it won't leave a
scar."
"Yes, it's quite disgustingly red and ugly. Is it terribly painful?"
Miss Carnegie added.
' Oh, how horrid. I think I' mgoing to faint," exclaimed The
Honourable Miss Aldercott. The others immediately gathered around Miss
Aldercott, cooing with pretty concern.
Blinking back tears, Tallie ran from the room and headed for the
scullery. She plunged her arm in a pitcher of cold water and breathed
a sigh of relief as the pain immediately began to ebb. After a few
moments she withdrew it and blew lightly on the reddened skin. It was
quite painful, but she didn't think it was too serious a burn. But why
had Miss Fyffe-Temple done it? Tallie hadn't missed the gleam of
spiteful satisfaction in her eyes as she had made her mocking
apology.
"Are you all right. Miss Tallie?" It was Brooks, his kindly old face
furrowed with anxiety.
"I am so sorry, my dear."
"It is not serious, Brooks, truly," Tallie reassured him.
"It gave me more of a fright, really. It hardly hurts at all."
"I don't know how it happened. She... My arm just slipped."
Tallie laid a hand on his arm.
"It's all right; I know whose fault it is. Brooks. The thing I don't
understand is why."
Brooks stared for a moment, then suddenly looked awkward.
"I think you'd best speak to your cousin, miss," he said.
"She's still abed, but I have no doubt she's expecting you."
Tallie frowned.
"I shall go up to her, then, as soon as I have put some butter and a
piece of gauze over this burn," she said slowly.
Judging from Brooks's expression, something was amiss. She could not
think what it was. No doubt her cousin would enlighten her.
The? " Tallie's voice squeaked. She stared at her cousin, her jaw
dropping in amazement. The effects of her indulgences the night before
had kept Laetitia in bed, and from the sounds of things she was still
inebriated. Or demented.
The? " repeated Tallie, stunned.
"How can you possibly say such a thing, Cousin? He does not even know
my name."
"Ha!" spat Laetitia, holding her delicate head.
"I'll wager he knows you in other ways, you hussy! In the Biblical
sense! Why else would he choose a wretched little nobody?"
Tallie gasped, first in shock and then in swelling outrage. It was one
thing to be asked to swallow such a Banbury tale-Lord d'Arenville
wishing to wed Tallie Robinson, indeed! But to be accused of
immorality! She was not entirely sure what knowing 'in the Biblical
sense' meant, but she was very certain it was immoral. Tallie was
furious. She might be poor. She might be an orphan, shabbily dressed
and forced to live on other's generosity. But she was not immoral.
"Firstly, let me tell you. Cousin," Tallie said heatedly, 'no man has
known me in the Biblical sense, and I am shocked that you could even
suggest such a thing! Secondly, I cannot help but believe you must
have made an error about Lord d'Arenville's intentions. Perhaps you
misheard him. "
"I did not," snapped Laetitia.
"Do you think I would imagine such an appalling thing?"
Tallie gritted her teeth. Imagination indeed! She could imagine no
member of the aristocracy, let alone the arrogant Lord d'Arenville,
choosing his cousin's poor relation for his bride.
"But I have not exchanged even one word with his lordship," exclaimed
Tallie.
"I do not believe--' shrilled Laetitia, holding her head.
"Cousin! I promise you." Tallie tried to keep her voice calm, despite
her frustration. Her cousin was very angry.
"Do not lie, girl! He told me himself he had chosen you."
A small, cold knot of fear lodged in Tallie's stomach. She had never
seen Laetitia this furious before, and she knew her cousin well. There
was a hard, ruthless streak in Laetitia. This foolish
misunderstanding--the result of too much champagne, no doubt, or
perhaps a jest on Lord d'Arenville's part--could have dire consequences
for herself.
"Well, either you misheard him. Cousin, or else he is playing a nasty
joke on you. Yes, that's it--it must surely be a jest." People like
her cousin's friends were always playing tricks on some poor
unfortunate. The joke this time might be on Laetitia, but Tallie was
the poor unfortunate.
"Jest?" Laetitia snorted.
"Magnus does not jest--not about marriage."
"Perhaps you took a little too much champagne, Cousin, and did not
realise he was hoaxing you," Tallie suggested tentatively.
"Nonsense! I know what I heard!" said Laetitia, but her tone belied
the words. It was clear that she was starting to entertain doubts.
Tallie felt a trickle of relief.
"I will speak to his lordship, shall I, and clear the matter up once
and for all?" Tallie rose to her feet. It just had to be some trick
Lord d'Arenville was playing on Laetitia. Tallie was not amused. His
little joke had already got her scalded by boiling coffee, and now it
threatened her position in Laetitia's household. But would His
High-and-Mightiness think of that? Not he!
He who had been given everything his heart desired, ever since he was
born--it would not occur to him that some people existed on a fine line
between survival and destitution. All that stood between Tallie and
abject poverty was her cousin's good will, and no careless jest was
about to jeopardise that! Lord Look-Down-His-Nose would soon learn
that one person at least was not prepared to have her life wrecked for
a mere lordly whim!
She found him in the downstairs parlour, idly leafing through a freshly
ironed newspaper, lately arrived from London. Fortunately he was alone
for a change.
"Lord d'Arenville," she began, shutting the door firmly behind her.
"I
have just been speaking with my cousin Laetitia, and she seems to be
under the impression that you. "
He laid the paper courteously aside, stood up and came towards her.
Tallie's voice dwindled away. Heavens, but he was so very tall. She'd
noticed it earlier, of course, but now, when he was standing so close,
looming over her. "Ah, Miss Robinson. Good morning. Is it not a
pleasant day? Will you be seated?"
Miss Robinson ? He remembered her name? She could have sworn he
hadn't taken a whit of notice of her the day they were introduced. Or
since.
"Er, thank you." Tallie allowed herself to be led to a low divan. He
drew up a chair opposite, a look of faint enquiry lifting his dark
brows.
"You wished to speak with me?"
To her great discomfort Tallie felt a blush rising. It was one thing
to storm out of her cousin's boudoir, declaring she would soon clear up
this whole silly mistake, and quite another to confront this
immaculate, gravely polite aristocrat with a wholly impossible tale.
' Laetitia seems to be under the impression. ? " he prompted.
Tallie felt her blush intensify. The whole thing was too ridiculous.
She had to escape. She could not ask this man whether there was any
truth in the rumour that he wished to marry her. It was obviously a
mistake. She knew she was being cowardly, but she could not imagine
this coldly serious creature considering her--even for a jest--as an