An Unreasonable Match

by Sylvia Andrew

  As soon as they were close enough he whispered, "What happened?"

  "It suddenly came to me. The base! It's not a rectangular grid—it's a pentacle! It could be, at least. It would account for the oddness in it."

  "You're talking of the cipher?"

  She looked at him scornfully. "Of course I am!"

  "We'll try it tomorrow! That look of contempt was very convincing, by the way. I am suitably crushed." They were separated again by the movement of the dance.

  As soon as the set was finished Hester made her way swiftly to Lady Martindale without waiting to see whether her partner was following. Dungarran caught up with her just as she arrived.

  "I think we've given society enough to think about for tonight," he said. "My self-esteem is feeling quite bruised."

  "My dear Lord Dungarran, I have hardly begun!"

  "I only wish that you and my aunt were not deriving quite so much enjoyment out of it all, Miss Perceval!" He had been smiling, but he suddenly became serious. "Ah!" he said. Hester followed his eyes. An exquisitely dressed gentleman, who had clearly just arrived, was standing in the doorway, surveying the scene. He was not above average height, but very handsome, with dark hair and eyes, and beautifully moulded mouth and chin.

  Lady Martindale said softly, "Our dear friend the Comte de Landres is here, Robert.''

  "Thank you, I've seen him." He turned to Hester and his voice had an urgent note in it as he said quietly, "Be on your guard with the gentleman at the door. He poses as a French emigre, and is accepted everywhere in society, but his secret allegiance is to the present regime in France. He would give much to know where the French documents are, and even more to learn how much of them the War Office has managed to decipher."

  "He's coming over here, Robert."

  Dungarran said rapidly, "Look as if you are bored beyond measure, Hester, but listen to me! The myth we have concocted will serve us very well. I know he suspects me, but he mustn't be given the slightest reason to connect you with any of it. Do you understand?"

  As de Landres approached Hester turned away, saying somewhat petulantly, "Of course I do, Lord Dungarran! Pray let us talk of something else!" She eyed the newcomer with interest as he bowed over Lady Martindale's hand.

  "Mais Lady Martindale! How is it that you look more lovely every time I see you? The secret of eternal youth must be yours, I think..."

  He would have continued in this vein but Lady Martindale smilingly interrupted. "I see that your absence from London has not impaired your silver tongue, monsieur! Hester, my dear, you must beware of this gentleman. He can be charming in four different languages at once! May I present Monsieur de Landres? Miss Perceval is at present staying with me, monsieur, while her parents are in the north."

  "Enchante, Mademoiselle Perceval." Black eyes surveyed her with obvious pleasure. "Mais vraiment enchante! Are you staying long' in London? Please, I beg you to say that you are!"

  Hester blushed. "You are very kind, sir. I... I'm not yet sure..."

  "Then you must give me a chance to persuade you! Or..." The black eyes went from Hester to Dungarran. "Am I trespassing, perhaps?"

  "Oh no!" cried Hester with emphasis.

  Dungarran smiled coldly. "Miss Perceval shows little inclination to listen to anything I say, de Landres. Perhaps you might be more successful."

  "What? Where the great Lord Dungarran has failed? Most unlikely—but of course I will try. Mademoiselle, may I begin by persuading you to dance with me?"

  "Thank you, I'd like to, sir."

  "Robert, you may take me to the supper room," said Lady Martindale. "Hester, we shall see you there after your dance, I hope. Meanwhile, I am sure Monsieur de Landres will take very good care of you."

  The particular dance did not allow much opportunity for long conversations, but as they met and separated again the Comte asked any number of questions. They all demonstrated a flattering interest in Hester and her family, and had she not been on her guard she would perhaps not have noticed how many of them involved her present association with Lady Martindale and her nephew. She took pride in the fact that her answers, apart from displaying a coolness towards Dungarran, were innocently free of any real information. The dance ended and they walked towards the supper room. The Comte returned her with a flourish to Lady Martindale and went off to find some refreshment. There seemed to be something of a crowd round the supper table. He would be some time.

  "You seemed to enjoy your dance with that popinjay," said Dungarran.

  "Oh, I did!" Hester replied with a bright smile.

  Dungarran frowned. "You will remember that he's not all he seems?"

  "I did. And I will."

  "What did you talk about?"

  "Really, Lord Dungarran, you are as bad as he! He asked me a lot of questions, and I answered them."

  "Such as?"

  "Well, some of them were flatteringly personal. But I expect you wish to know about the others. They amounted to one question really. He wanted to know what you were doing. He asked whether you spent a lot of time with the people in the War Office."

  "He must have thought you very simple, to ask outright like that."

  "You underestimate me. He did not ask outright, he was as devious as you. But that was the real question. He also commented that you spent a great deal of time at your aunt's house."

  "What did you say to that, Hester?" asked Lady Martindale.

  "I blushed and implied, without actually saying so, that Lord Dungarran's frequent visits to Grosvenor Street were on my behalf, and that his attentions were not very welcome."

  "Good!"

  "But he also asked whether your nephew spent any time working on papers while he was there."

  Dungarran stared and frowned. "The devil he did! Now I wonder how he got wind of that? What did you say?"

  "I said that you were a nobleman. That you probably didn't know how to work."

  For a fraction of a moment Dungarran looked offended. Then he grinned. "You are a minx, Hester! A cruel minx. But that was quite in the Lord Dunthinkin style!"

  Hester said quickly, looking as innocent as she could, "Lord Dunthinkin...? I've heard several people mention him. Who is he?"

  Lady Martindale looked severe and shook her head at her nephew. "Robert!"

  "Oh, I'm sorry, Miss Perceval. I shouldn't have mentioned the name," Dungarran said gravely, and only Hester could see the mocking gleam in his eye. "He's a character in a most unsavoury book. I can't say more—it has amused my aunt, but she doesn't consider it fit for innocent girls."

  "Like most of society, Hester, I have read the book. Unlike most of the ladies of society, I even admit to having done so. But I really don't think that your parents would approve of your reading it. It is true that parts of it are extremely amusing, but much of the rest is disgusting."

  Hester was saved from further awkwardness by the return of the Comte.

  At the end of the evening the conspirators all felt that their campaign had begun very well. Lady Martindale and Hester returned to Grosvenor Street in high spirits, recounting with glee the various remarks made to them by ladies whose daughters had been ignored by Dungarran in the past.

  "Did you hear Lady Pembrook, Robert?" asked his fond aunt. "She really feels for you!

  She complimented me on Hester's improved appearance, and added that you seemed to be quite taken with my young guest." Lady Martindale started to laugh. "Then, positively drooling with pleasure, she said, 'Not that I noticed any corresponding warmth in Miss Perceval's manner towards your nephew, Lady Martindale. Au contraire! She is distinctly cold. He has always been so successful, too... It cannot be pleasant for him.' What do you say to that, my dear nephew?"

  He looked at her in exasperation. "That you know as well as I do that she has detested me for years. Ever since she failed in her efforts to push her unfortunate daughter into my arms, in fact. And I don't believe the poor girl even liked me!"

  "Then what about Mrs Gartside?"

&
nbsp; He sighed in resignation. "I suppose you were listening, Godmama. You must have enjoyed that!"

  "What did she say?" asked Hester.

  Dungarran turned towards her. "She was very fulsome about you. Then she said she was impressed at the change in your manner—especially towards the eligible young men in the room."

  "Oh!" Hester exclaimed. "How unkind of her!"

  "She is famous for her spiteful remarks. You needn't worry about her," he said reassuringly.

  "But what about the rest, Robert? Hester would like to hear that, I'm sure! Go on!"

  Dungarran gave his godmother a look. Then he turned to Hester. "I ought to tell you first that Mrs Gartside has an exquisitely lovely daughter. God knows where she got her looks from, but there's no denying that Phoebe Gartside is very beautiful. For a short while I thought I was in love with her, and the Gartsides made it very clear that they would consider me a suitable son-in-law."

  "What happened?"

  "The girl has the brains of a pea! Fortunately I found this out before it was too late and withdrew. She soon found someone else—a Viscount whose intellectual gifts are on a par with her own."

  "And what did Mrs Gartside say tonight?"

  "She commiserated with me! How sad it was, she said, to see a reformed flirt learning what rejection was! Even though my fortune must be such a strong temptation."

  Hester grew slightly pale. "I was right in the first place, Lady Martindale," she said. "I am happier with my symbols and ciphers—they may be difficult, but they are not malicious."

  Dungarran took her hands in his. "Hester— may I call you so in private?'' She nodded. "Hester, you mustn't let the envious spite of one or two tabbies spoil this evening. You were magnificent! Your manner towards me was perfectly judged. It is as well that I know it to be part of our game, for otherwise I would be feeling all the chagrin that those two tabbies wish oh me—and more!"

  Hester tried to smile, but her lips trembled. She removed her hands from his. For some unaccountable reason she suddenly felt out of spirits.

  Lady Martindale looked at her sympathetically. "Hester is tired, Robert. And if I know you both, you will be at work on your ciphers before ten o'clock tomorrow morning. It's time you left."

  Dungarran nodded, and after bidding them both goodnight he went. Lady Martindale took Hester's hand and led her to her bedroom. "Sleep well, my dear. Robert was right. You were indeed magnificent."

  "Was she really as lovely as he said?" Hester asked sadly.

  "Who?"

  "The...the girl he said he loved."

  "Phoebe Gartside? Yes. She was every bit as lovely—and just as silly, too.''

  "But he was in love with her. He fell in love once."

  "He was just a boy. And it lasted about a month. It wasn't real love, of course, it was pure infatuation with her looks. And as soon as he started talking to her the dream was shattered. I am sorry to say, Hester, that he has never to my knowledge been seriously in love with anyone. He has had a number of mistresses, of course. I've been told that he is a very generous lover. But properly in love? No. I doubt he ever will be— he is too...too detached." She stole a glance at Hester. "You are very alike, you know. Neither of you lets your heart rule your head. Isn't that true?"

  "Yes!" said Hester. "Yes! And it is better so!"

  By morning Hester had recovered from her curious lack of spirits the night before. She was eager to test her new theory on the French cipher, and was already downstairs in their study when Dungarran arrived.

  "You're an early bird," he said. "I thought I would be here first. I suppose my aunt is still in her room?''

  "Yes, it was very late when we finally got to bed last night. We talked for some time after you had left." Hester spoke absently. She was carefully drawing a figure on a piece of paper. He came over and looked at it.

  "Tell me," he said, "how did you come to think of a pentacle?"

  "Well, we both noticed a curious symmetry in the cipher—but it wasn't a circle, or a rectangle or any of the usual geometric shapes. I tried all the figures I could think of, and you did, too, but nothing seemed to work. But the pentacle is not an ordinary mathematical symbol."

  "It belongs to magic. An unusual choice for our level-headed Frenchman, surely."

  "Ah, but think of the Greek names for it!"

  "One is the pentagramma, or pentagram..."

  "And the other is the pentalpha. Penta alpha, Robert! Five As."

  "Because it's formed from five As! Of course! And each A would govern a different set of letters. But that would make a very complicated grid. Hours of work."

  "Exactly! But we seem to have tried all the simple ones. Let's test it! I should imagine we should quite soon see if it was working."

  After half an hour of concentrated work a coherent sentence began to appear. They looked at each other in awe.

  "It's worked! It's worked, Hester! You little marvel!" An unaccustomed flush of excitement was on Dungarran's cheeks. He jumped up and dragged Hester after him. Together they danced round the room in a wild jig. At last they came to a stop by Hester's table. She went to sit down, but Dungarran put his hands on her shoulders and pulled her up against him. Hester struggled to free herself.

  "No!" she protested. "No!"

  "Don't you want me to kiss you?"

  "No. I don't like...kisses."

  He smiled at her, but did not release her. "Has anyone ever kissed you before, Hester? Apart from your family?"

  "You know someone has! Lord... Lord C...Canford k...kissed me. It was horrible!"

  "My poor girl! That wasn't a kiss! It was an insult."

  "All the same..."

  "Let me show you what a kiss can be, Hester." His voice was persuasive, but though his hands were still on her shoulders, he was making no effort to pull her closer. "You mustn't go through life believing that all kisses are horrible."

  "But...but surely all kisses are the same. What makes you think I should enjoy your kiss better?"

  He spoke gravely, but there was a distinct twinkle in his eye. "If you believe that all kisses are the same then it's time I taught you otherwise. I promise that you would enjoy my kiss better— I'm nicer than Lord Canford. And I think you like me more."

  "What has that got to do with it? I like working with you, talking to you—but not...not... I've never thought of...of..."

  "This?" He still made no effort to draw her closer, but instead leaned forward and gently kissed her on the lips. Then he drew back and asked, "Was that so bad? Be honest, Hester."

  "I... I don't know." She thought for a moment. "No, I think it...it was rather agreeable."

  "Shall I try again?" His arms slid round her and he pulled her towards him, almost imperceptibly. This time his lips met hers with more force, though he was still perfectly controlled. After a moment of panic, she felt a strange warmth taking possession of her, and she relaxed in his arms.

  "Not a bit like Lord Canford," she murmured.

  He laughed and looked down at her. She smiled dreamily back at him. His expression changed, the grey eyes grew dark and she felt his arms tightening round her. This time the kiss was demanding, passionate, requiring a response. She could feel the length of his body against hers, and a wave of glorious feeling overtook her. Without volition her arms went round his neck and she returned kiss for kiss until her own body was on fire... His arms tightened till she could hardly breathe, but she rejoiced in their closeness, this strange glorious sensation fizzing along her veins like champagne...

  But after a moment sanity returned to her. She pulled herself free and held on to her chair, seeking to still the trembling in her limbs. She couldn't look at him, but she heard him walk swiftly away. He was angry, it seemed. He stood by his table for a moment, and she thought she heard him cursing under his breath. Then he turned and took a step towards her. She shook her head and stammered, "N...no more! Please! I... I..."

  "Hester, for God's sake forgive me! I'm sorry! I don't know what happened!
I lost my head. I can't really believe it, but it's true. I lost my head... I don't know when that last happened. I... I..." He turned away again and when he spoke his voice sounded bewildered and ashamed. "I suppose you think me no better than Canford."

  Hester lifted her head and protested, "Oh no! Never! You...you were very k...kind. It was my fault. I... I still don't know how to behave."

  He swung round, looking astonished. "You really don't know what happened there, do you?" he said harshly. "You've lived such a nun's life in that attic of yours. I very nearly lost all control! And I was supposed to be reassuring you, trying to wipe out the memory of that kiss of Canford's. I don't know what came over me. Can you possibly forgive me, Hester? I'll find it hard to forgive myself." He came nearer. "You are in no way to blame for what happened, believe me."

  Hester shook her head. "Don't say any more. Please! I'd... I'd rather forget it happened." She swallowed, and wondered if her heart would ever stop pounding. "Can't we dismiss it from our minds? Carry on as we were before?"

  His expression softened and he came towards her again. When she stiffened involuntarily, he smiled and held up his hands. "Don't look like that. I promise you, Robert Dungarran is himself again. You're in no danger. It won't happen again, I swear." He watched her steadily until she nodded and gave an answering smile—a little tremulous perhaps but a smile nonetheless. He went on, "You were shocked by that last kiss, Hester. And so was I. It was not what I intended, and I agree that we should forget it. Such a triumph of emotion over reason is not our style, is it?"

  Hester said wrily, "No, indeed!"

  "Then are we friends?"

  When she nodded he held out a hand, and after a slight hesitation she took it. Holding it firmly in his, he said gently, "But, all the same, you should learn a little more about life. You've been shut away in your attic for the past six years, absorbed in your figures, cut off from contact with the outside world. That's something for which I feel I share the blame. You said last night that I— Zeno—had helped to restore your confidence. Can't you let the other half of me—Robert Dungarran—teach you how to enjoy contact with the world. Confess it. You took pleasure in your success last night, didn't you?"