Putting a hand on her hip, Marietta cocked her head at him, meeting his ruthless stare. ‘Lady whatever-her-name-is asked for it,’ she retorted tartly. ‘She should not have said what she did about Yang Ling.’
He frowned down at her. ‘You have brought Yang Ling with you to England?’
‘Yes. I gave her the choice. She wanted to come, but I did not bring her here to be insulted by the likes of that—that woman.’
For a moment Max looked disappointed in her, then his expression turned grim. ‘Nevertheless, you should be ashamed of yourself. That woman, as you call her, could do you a lot of harm if she has a mind. And you have given her plenty of ammunition. You’ve got to admit that what you did wasn’t exactly a constructive way to settle a disagreement. I’ve been in a lot of tricky situations myself and I’ve generally found retaliating the way you did to be the least effective way of sorting them out. When you have climbed down from your high horse, do the decent thing and apologise—although you cannot blame her if she tells you to go to the devil. I cannot believe you didn’t know who she was, that you have not been introduced.’
‘She knows who I am,’ Marietta retorted sullenly.
‘There isn’t a man or woman here tonight who doesn’t know who you are,’ he said coldly. ‘This whole evening is all about your vanity, Marietta.’
‘You’re being extremely mean and most unfair! You don’t understand...’ Suddenly she wanted more than anything to convince him that she was indeed sorry for her actions.
But Max’s face hardened again. One corner of his mouth curled and Marietta saw there was a mocking smile in his eyes. She could have wept then, because in that look she saw again the stranger she had seen in Hong Kong, when she was barely out of the schoolroom and he had caused havoc in her heart.
‘I think I understand well enough. I recall on our last meeting you told me I was brutal, vile and not to touch you.’
‘I remember and I meant every word.’
‘I found your change of attitude curious after our previous encounters.’
Marietta blanched. The memory of the scene flooded through her—as it often did when she thought of the years she had spent in Hong Kong and her meeting with Lord Trevellyan—and that dreadful, humiliating kiss. She flushed hotly, wishing he hadn’t mentioned it. ‘I’m afraid I was unseemingly forward when we met on the Peak that day. The memory is abhorrent to me. I should prefer to forget the whole unpleasant episode if you don’t mind.’
Max’s anger returned. He had presumed correctly that she was embarrassed about the kiss and held some resentment towards him for his harsh reaction to it. ‘Why, Miss Westwood, what are you talking about?’ he mocked, implying that the incident that had so shamed her had meant so little to him he had put it from his mind. ‘What Peak? I should imagine we have travelled in different circles. My wife was still alive at the time, if you remember.’
Marietta blushed with an awkward mixture of embarrassment and anger. She had tried to apologise, only to have sarcasm flung back in her face. She felt Lord Trevellyan’s penetrating eyes boring into her, eyes flashing with bold insolence. Drawing herself up to her full height, she stared back at him.
‘I do not wish to hear about your wife. Your marriage and her death are your affair and nothing to do with me.’
‘Precisely,’ he bit back. ‘I do not wish to discuss it.’
‘Believe me, Lord Trevellyan, neither do I. I’m sorry, but you’ll have to excuse me,’ Marietta managed in a breaking voice.
Stabbed to the bone by his cutting remarks, biting her lip, she turned on her heel, skirts swirling in a flurry of creamy hues, and headed back to the house. Her eyes misted with the tears his anger and harsh set down had induced. Suddenly she felt so very wretched and deeply regretted her actions. But it was too late now. What was done was done and whatever the consequence of her actions, she would just have to face it.
She had come upon the two women after stepping through the ballroom’s French windows, the idea of taking a short stroll through the gardens in the cool evening air to catch her breath too tempting to resist. They hadn’t heard her approach. She had remained quite still beneath a rose-covered arbour, breathing in the fragrant scents to clear her muddled head, becoming still as she listened to their exchange and their malicious comments, before realising they were talking about her.
Not particularly upset by this since she seemed to have developed the hide of a rhinoceros since leaving Hong Kong, she was about to turn away. But on hearing the insults directed at Yang Ling, she felt that familiar prickle inside her that would lead to the surge of anger which, before she had learned to control it, had got her into trouble in the past. At that moment it had deserted her. She forgot everything and, careless of flouting everything she had been taught, was eager to give that woman her comeuppance. It was a strange feeling, a certain knowledge that she was doing something very wrong, yet an inability to resist doing it.
Nearing the terrace she paused. The sound of the party drifted to her, filtering through the French windows. She stood alone as guests strolled beneath a sky as clear as a London sky could be in August, crowded with stars that disappeared near the horizon. The evening had started off as well as could be expected, and her grandmother had introduced her to the guests at the right moment so those inside and out could see her and managed to divert every eager male and jealous female eye in sight. Suddenly, with the arrival of Max Trevellyan, everything had gone badly wrong and in the midst of all these people Marietta felt confused and disorientated.
Hearing the orchestra playing a slow waltz, she went inside. It wasn’t long before the storm broke. Her grandmother came up beside her, and, not wishing to give the impression that anything was wrong, with a smile on her lips she said, ‘You will see me in the library, young lady. You will be there in five minutes and not a second later.’
With a sinking heart Marietta watched her walk away. Clearly the fountain incident had been related to her in every graphic detail. The storm would be violent but brief, she hoped.
* * *
In the library Marietta stood mute and unmoving before her grandmother’s unwavering stare. Her face was stern, her lips compressed. She certainly looked fierce. They faced each other in timeless attitudes of belligerence until Marietta decided she might as well make the first move and start her off. The longer she waited the more the pressure would build and the more angry her grandmother would be.
‘What is it you wish to speak to me about, Grandmother?’
‘As if you didn’t know. It concerns a certain incident that happened a short while ago in the garden. This is a very serious matter, Marietta. What were you thinking of? Have you any idea of the damage you have done to your reputation?’
‘I’m sorry, Grandmother. Lady Murray was saying some terribly insulting things about Yang Ling. I’ve never heard such unmitigated gall. I was angry—no one speaks about Yang Ling like that.’
‘So you pushed Lady Murray into the fountain, and in the process embarrassed everyone concerned. Lady Murray has been escorted from the party by her very irate husband—and he has every right to be angry. However, despite Lady Murray’s anger and humiliation, I can only hope we can make amends.’
‘Lady Murray told you that I pushed her into the fountain?’
‘She did, and I am inclined to believe her. I truly thought that the time and expense of teaching you how to behave like a lady had paid off, Marietta. It would seem I failed. If you wish to be treated as a lady, you must behave as one. A lady does not go around pushing people into fountains.’
Marietta had the grace to look contrite. ‘I’m sorry, Grandmother...’
‘Of course, her story was confirmed by Lord Trevellyan. He witnessed the whole sorry incident.’
‘Yes,’ Marietta said tightly. ‘He did, and you may rest assured that I have been severely chastened.’
Her grandmother looked at her expectantly. ‘I have the impression that Lord Trevellyan did not make a
favourable impression on you, Marietta.’
‘I’m afraid not. It was one of the most unpleasant encounters of my life. The man is heartless and unfeeling, arrogant, rude and cold beyond words. In fact, I’m of the opinion that I should have dealt with him in the same manner as Lady Murray and shoved him into the fountain, too.’
Lady Wingrove smiled and lowered her face, as if she were hiding a secret. ‘On the surface he may appear arrogant and cold, but that is only a shell—a thick one, I’ll admit, but I have always suspected that the right woman could get past that and discover the gentleness inside him.’
Marietta’s look was scathing. ‘Not for a moment do I believe there is any gentleness inside Lord Trevellyan and, moreover, I want as little to do with him as possible.’
‘Maybe if the two of you were to dance...’
Marietta was still stinging from Lord Trevellyan’s cruel set down and, angry because he had embarrassed her by hatefully reporting her altercation with Lady Murray to her grandmother, her dislike turned into genuine loathing. ‘I don’t think so, Grandmother. I doubt Lord Trevellyan would ask me to dance if someone held a gun to his head.’
Lady Wingrove’s brows rose in ironic amusement. ‘Oh dear. That bad.’
‘It’s worse than you can imagine, Grandmother. Much worse.’
* * *
Leaving the breakfast room the following morning, Marietta was surprised when she saw the tall, proud-looking Lord Trevellyan standing in the hall. What reason could he have to be here at such an early hour? She had forced him from her mind since their parting on Hong Kong. His life did not impinge on hers. She had tried to put the memory and the manner of his wife’s death from her, wanting to escape from the nightmare which had sucked her into its centre. But the unexpected meeting with him at the party had badly upset her for some inexplicable reason.
Taking a deep breath, she walked towards him. Her brows were raised in curiosity, her small heart-shaped face mirroring her surprise. She was determined not to be intimidated by this man so, lifting up her chin, she clasped her hands firmly together. ‘Good morning, Lord Trevellyan,’ she said crisply, pushing back a stray lock of rich reddish-brown hair from her eyes—eyes that were always bright and enquiring. ‘Forgive me if I appear surprised, but after your crushing set down last night you are the last person I expected to come calling—and at such an early hour. If you’ve come here to vent your spleen on me some more, you can leave.’
He held up a placatory hand. ‘As far as I am concerned the incident is over—although it may linger for a long time to come for Lady Murray. I’m sure you must be feeling more angry with yourself this morning than anything she said.’
‘Not at all. What are you doing here?’
‘I have come to see Lady Wingrove,’ he informed her.
‘Really? And here was I thinking it was my own charming self you had come to see.’
His lips curled into a tight smile, her sarcasm not lost on him. ‘Then I’m sorry to disappoint you.’
She shrugged. ‘Please don’t flatter yourself, Lord Trevellyan. I’m really rather relieved, but I’m sure my grandmother will be more than happy to see you.’
‘I expect she will be. How are you liking England? Does it meet with your expectations?’
‘Yes, I like it very well.’
‘I am surprised you brought Yang Ling with you. I can imagine she must have raised a few eyebrows.’
‘I’m glad she agreed to come with me. I couldn’t bear leaving Hong Kong without her. Grandmother raised a disapproving eyebrow on seeing her, but apart from commenting that she appears to be a most efficient
lady’s maid, she has made no further comment. Yang Ling speaks very good, somewhat pidgin English—but it’s flexible enough to meet the needs of those she comes into contact with and I can understand her perfectly, which is the main thing.’
‘How does she get on with the other servants?’
‘Initially she was a constant source of bewilderment. They didn’t know what to make of her peculiar Chinese ways—the way she rearranged my room to make sure the furniture was all in the right place and didn’t block any traditional paths used by dragons. Thankfully she managed to achieve the correct balance between the elements of nature and the forces of Yin and Yang, until she was satisfied its feng shui to be favourable.’
From his own experiences in Hong Kong, Max could well imagine the peculiar looks and comments Marietta’s Chinese maid must have drawn from the other servants.
‘Tell me, Marietta, have you seen the papers this morning?’
Taken off guard by his question, she stared at him and shook her head. ‘I don’t read the newspapers.’
‘Then you should, although I must warn you that they don’t make for satisfactory reading. Your actions of last night have not gone unrecorded.’
She felt a sense of foreboding as a cold chill trickled down her spine. ‘Why, what do they say?’
‘They highlight on Lady Murray’s tumble into the fountain. The lady’s husband claims you pushed her.’ He chuckled softly. ‘He said what a fine party it was—to be attacked by the hostess.’
Marietta stiffened, her eyes flashing angrily. ‘My grandmother was the hostess, not me.’
He shrugged. ‘No matter how you look at it, the party was given for your benefit.’
‘How can Lord Murray possible say I pushed his wife into the fountain when he wasn’t even there?’ Marietta retorted crossly.
‘Lord Murray believed what his wife has told him. He was none too pleased, apparently, at having to leave the party early last night—because his wife wasn’t fit to be seen.’ He smiled, delighting in her discomfiture and prepared to twist the knife a bit more. ‘And that isn’t all.’
‘It isn’t? Are you telling me there is more?’
‘Much more. It would seem you have made a bad start to your stay in London, Marietta. The papers go on to list your other questionable activities, activities such as riding unaccompanied in Hyde Park, partaking in a mock duel in the aforesaid park with two young gentlemen before challenging them to a race.’ Max went on to name several other escapades listed that were relatively harmless, but when catalogued in this way read like an indictment.
Furious, Marietta turned away from him, her hands clenched by her sides. ‘How dare they? Why, the gossips here are no better than the ancient tabbies in Hong Kong.’
‘But you’re not in Hong Kong now, Marietta. You are in London and your grandmother’s good name is being brought into disrepute by your outrageous activities. If she had been hoping for a dutiful, obedient, penitent granddaughter, I’m afraid she must be feeling sadly disappointed.’
Rage, full bodied and fortifying, brought Marietta round to face him. Never had she expected Max
Trevellyan would have the gall to criticise her behaviour in London as he had in Hong Kong. Her misdemeanours compared to his were as nothing, when she recalled how he had treated his poor wife.
‘Why, of all the hypocritical, arrogant—’ she burst out, then, with a superhuman effort, she took control of her rampaging ire. Lifting her chin, she moved to stand in front of him, looked up into his enigmatic silver-grey eyes and declared, ‘Yes, I admit it. I am guilty. I am guilty of everything I am accused of, and if I have brought disgrace upon my grandmother then I shall apologise to her. So there. Are you satisfied now? I consider I have been suitably chastised—although for the life of me I cannot think what any of it has to do with you. What is to be done about it, do you think?’
Max gazed at the tempestuous beauty standing before him, her eyes flashing like angry jewels. He moved his eyes up and down her slender body attired in a daffodil-yellow gown in undisguised familiarity. She had matured in the last two years and she moved with a natural grace and poise that evaded most of the women he knew. Her skin glowed clear and healthy and even though she was very much a woman now, she still exuded a gentle innocence which he found appealing. Beneath this—and if her antics at the party and rep
orted indiscretions were indeed true—her adventurous spirit tinged with obstinacy were unchanged. Yet his admiration for her increased for her honesty and courage in admitting her guilt.
‘It is not for me to decide, Marietta. Only Lady Wingrove can do that. If there is to be a scandal, then by the time you return from the north it will have died a death and the gossips will have found someone else to vilify.’ He moved to stand close to her. ‘Tell me. Do you miss Hong Kong?’
‘Of course I do,’ she answered, relieved he had turned the conversation away from the highly embarrassing fountain incident. ‘It was my home for a long time. I loved it there.’
‘I believe you sold your share of the business to Teddy Longford.’
‘Yes. I wanted no part of it.’
‘That was a sensible move.’
She glanced at him sharply. ‘Why do you say that?’
‘Because whomever you marry wouldn’t want to find himself the innocent party in a shady business.’
‘I know,’ she said quietly. ‘I am ignorant as to how deep my father was implicated in the smuggling of opium—I didn’t want to know, for I wanted no part of it. I haven’t heard from Teddy since I left Hong Kong. Have you heard what happened to him after I left?’
Max nodded, his expression grim. ‘Things became too hot for him. He had to leave Hong Kong. Where he is now I cannot tell you. Possibly mainland China—or even India. One thing you can be certain of, wherever he is he will be—comfortable.’
‘Yes, I’m sure you’re right. Teddy always did have a way of extricating himself from trouble.’
‘For a long time he managed to hoodwink the authorities in Hong Kong into believing he had nothing to do with the smuggling of opium. It is my opinion that he should have got what he deserved. He should have received a long prison sentence.’
Marietta remained silent, not knowing how to reply to his harsh condemnation of Teddy. Perhaps he was right, but the thought of Teddy in prison made her realise that had death not claimed her father, he might very well have been arrested and imprisoned.
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