Lady Judith shrugged and said nothing. Robert turned from the mantel, and they stared at each other, both waiting for the other to look away. Robert broke the gaze, straightened up, and without another word, strode from the room.
He went out the way he’d come in. Through the hall. Then he walked the short way down the mews to Brooks’ where the familiar games room beckoned. Instead, he went to the smoking room, spied a corner sofa, and headed for it.
A familiar voice came to his ear. “Well, if it isn’t the notorious Lord Robert Weston.”
Robert turned to find Lord Tom Radcliffe reclining in an overstuffed chair, cigar in hand.
“Tom, you’ve heard the news I take it?”
“Yes. Lady Judith made sure that everyone who’s anyone heard. Not to say I’m anyone, mind you, but I rub elbows with greatness.”
Lord Robert grinned. “Greatness? Really, My Lord?” He dropped down on the sofa and signalled to the barman. A tray bearing two brandies was soon balanced in front of them, and each took his glass.
“Now. What is really going on here, Robert? Your cousin was beside herself yesterday. That’s what I was told by my man this morning. He got it from one of the kitchen maids.”
“You don’t believe it, do you?” Robert interrupted.
“No, no. Of course I don’t believe it. Any of it. I know how you’ve pined for Judith these last two years, Robert. And then to find out she’s back, and then this lie. Do you think she’s gone insane?”
“Honestly, I don’t know what to think.”
“Have you seen her?” Lord Thomas examined the candlelight through his brandy.
“I have. She said she wants to be a Marchioness. After that, her plan is to be a Duchess. As she put it, she doesn’t have to look far to achieve her desires.”
Tom’s face fell. “You don’t think she’s decided to go after anyone in your immediate circle, do you?”
“She most certainly has. She’s decided to seduce my brother. It’s as if she’s meticulously planned an elaborate charade. She acted as if she barely knew me, Tom.”
“Robert, I didn’t know it’s as bad as that.”
“It is. It’s every bit as bad as that.”
Tom sighed. “Oh dear. Everyone believes Lady Judith, it’s true. The ton has nothing but sympathy for her. She lost her mother while travelling and then returns only to be discarded by her betrothed? It’s rather brilliant if you’ll forgive my saying. If you think she planned it, she did a wonderful job. My question is why. Why come up with a story like that to achieve the plan?”
“I wish I knew the answer, Tom. Maybe it’s the only way she could think of to break ties with me. If she’d only told me she wanted to be free from our love.” Robert shook his head. “As it is, Dan is probably out back waiting for me. I don’t want to be seen, of course. I knew I took a chance coming here, but I needed your perspective. Thank you, friend.”
“You never need to thank me. And remember, My Lord, I’m a lawyer. I’ll do everything in my power to remind the gossip mongers they don’t know all the facts of the case. Your scandals cannot outdo our Regent’s. That would be treason, would it not?”
Lord Robert embraced his friend, patting him on the back, “Thank you, Tom.” He was gone from the room in the wink of an eye, out the back door of the club, and then across the mews in three long strides.
Dan was there ready to take Robert to Hempstead Hall. Robert gestured for him to stay on the bench, and then hopped into the carriage. He knocked on the ceiling, and they started off in the direction of the country manor.
At the last intersection before the bridge, Lord Robert leaned forward a little to better see the river. A lovely pink bonnet sporting a white plume caught his attention. Beneath the bonnet two large blue eyes, surrounded by wisps of corn silk curls, gazed at him placidly. The lovely lady waited to cross the cobbled road assisted by her manservant.
He was startled at her complete poise and quiet amidst the ruckus of the city. She smiled at him, and he slid back into the depths of the carriage, feeling a curious sensation in his chest.
*******
After three months at Hempstead, the scandal in London must have died down. Lord Thomas had mentioned that it would be safe to return after two months. Robert waited one more week, then headed back to the city.
He boarded the plain, black carriage with no crest on the door. Dan was waiting up top on the box. Robert knocked on the ceiling of the compartment, and they were on their way.
He felt ready to face whatever awaited him in London. He couldn’t hide forever. He refused to. The people who really knew him knew not to believe the lies Lady Judith had told, and according to Tom, continued to tell ... repeating the defamatory statements at every luncheon, tea, and outing she was invited to.
Robert had given up trying to figure out why she’d brought him into it. He’d let her go once and waited for her. He would have let her go again if he’d known that’s what she wanted. Why go to all the trouble of creating an injurious tale? She’d made more than a mess of things for him.
Did the ruse have to do with getting Hempstead to notice her as a romantic possibility? Robert hadn’t known her to be so ambitious. Or so scheming. She’d been away for three years, true, but she was so changed he felt he barely knew her anymore. He could only attribute the change in her to the shock of losing her mother.
The carriage arrived at Regent Street and came to an abrupt stop. Dan hopped down to open the door for him. “I came back by the back route, My Lord, I thought you’d prefer it that way.”
“Yes. Very good, Dan. Thank you.” Robert jumped down and made his way through the door in the wall dividing the mews from the garden. He walked along the passage towards the anterior of the house and entered through the hall instead of going to the front door.
He bounded up four flights of the servants’ stairs, went to his bedchamber, flung open the door, and fell upon the bed. He pulled a pillow over his head to shut out the light. He wanted to disappear.
“I hope you intend to stay around the house and not be seen. I thought you were still in the country.”
Startled, Lord Robert removed the cushion and opened his eyes to view his brother. James appeared smug and satisfied sitting in a chair in the corner of the room.
“What do you mean by that? There have been two elopements and the birth of a baby, four months after the wedding, since I’ve been at Hempstead. Surely, the talk about me has died down. I don’t expect to remain Lady Gossip’s favourite.”
“Listen Robert, and listen carefully. What I mean is I don’t want to see you at any of the places I frequent. I mean I don’t want you to accompany me anywhere. I mean stay away from me. Far away. Your scandal far outweighs any our Regent sovereign could be embroiled in. I’d say that’s what has put you in Lady Gossip’s top spot.”
“Look here, James. I won’t sit near you at a luncheon or dinner we might both attend. I won’t acknowledge you anywhere. I won’t even look at you. But you cannot keep me from the pleasure of watching the faces of my naysayers when I show up at some of the private balls. You know I’ll be invited to all of them. Scandal or no. In fact, there’s a good chance I’ll be invited precisely because of the reason I’m allegedly involved in some wicked doings. It’s part of the hypocritical nature of things. I might as well get some fun out of the situation.”
“Suit yourself, but I will not acknowledge you.”
“So you’ll be a liar and a hypocrite yourself My Lord? You will speak to me here, in our father’s home, but ignore my presence in everyone else’s?”
Lord James said nothing.
“You have my word, dear brother. You will not even know I’m ... wherever we happen to mutually be.” Lord Robert threw his head back and laughed. He heard the bedroom door slam and shrugged, pulling his watch fob from his waistcoat. He had time for a nap before the ball tonight.
*******
It had been weeks, but Lady Phoebe Sinclair still hoped to see
the man from the bridge. It appeared he’d been headed to the country, but she’d had no idea where. She’d confided this to her maid, Mary, but the maid knew of no gentleman who rode in an unmarked carriage.
And then Phoebe had come down with the typhus. She’d been ill for a solid month and hadn’t been to a social outing in weeks.
“Do you think he’ll be at the ball tonight, My Lady?” Mary was busy flourishing the curl iron to produce ringlets in Lady Phoebe’s hair. “How delightful if he were to ask you to dance.”
“I don’t know.” Phoebe had a faraway look in her eyes. “I hope so. How will I ever make his acquaintance if he’s not somewhere I go? Except for Lord Thomas Radcliffe, I don’t have the acquaintance of many young men in London. Four years away at boarding school, then two living in Paris. Oh dear, Mary. Maybe the man from the bridge has been in London while I lived in Paris, and now he’s moved back to France!”
The two young women erupted into peals of laughter, and when they came back to themselves, Mary went to the clothes press. She opened the doors and looked over her shoulder at Phoebe.
“What will you wear tonight, My Lady?”
“The white silk. I want simplicity, something that makes me look like I’m floating when I dance. It’s vain I know, but alas Mary, I’m very vain!” They erupted into more laughter.
“You’ll look like an angel from Heaven, My Lady.” Mary removed the garment from its resting place and assisted her mistress in dressing.
Lady Phoebe examined herself in the glass. “You’ve done a wonderful job with my hair, Mary. I’m leaving it as it is. No ornaments. I always feel so beautiful when you dress me,” she said with a smile.
Mary was more like a sister to Phoebe than her maid. She’d often wondered how she could boost Mary into society, at least the gentry. Phoebe would have to set up an advantageous marriage for her friend. Something that would raise Mary up from the working class she existed in. Still, it was not usual for a fashionable young man to look in the direction of a lady’s maid unless he was looking for one thing only.
“You look lovely, My Lady. I’ll tell Peter to get the carriage.”
“Oh, that won’t be necessary, but thank you, Mary. Lord Thomas Radcliffe is escorting me this evening.”
“Ooh. My Lady. Lord Thomas is handsome, indeed.”
Lady Phoebe giggled. “It’s not like that Mary. We grew up together although we lost touch for a while when I was away at boarding school. Then I came back to London and left less than a year later to live in Paris. Lord Thomas and I are comfortable friends.”
“Rather like a long married couple, My Lady?”
“Rather not.” Lady Phoebe winked at her maid. “More like sister and brother.”
Phoebe exited the room and walked to the end of the hall. She descended the grand staircase of the townhouse she lived in with her father, Duke Carlisle. Within minutes, Lord Thomas had come to the door to collect her. He flashed Mary a smile, and soon Phoebe and he were in his curricle heading to their destination.
They shared small talk about the weather, if the waltz or the quadrille was more fun, and wagered on how many turbans and ostrich feathers would occupy the ballroom. They pulled up to Hudson House, in the middle of London, and went inside. Some guests were dancing already, while others gathered in small groups talking and laughing, and still others were enjoying the gardens behind the mansion. They were announced to the host and hostess then ventured into the ballroom.
Lord Thomas handed Phoebe a glass of ratafia and turned his head to speak to some friends for a moment. Phoebe perused the ballroom looking for friends and acquaintances.
Her eyes stopped when they peered through the doorway to her right. There, her eyes rested on a man tarrying in the drawing room. He was standing close to the fireplace leaning against the mantle. He was partially facing away from her, but something about the fine quality of his posture was familiar to her.
Thomas turned back to Phoebe after making plans that were to unfold at Brooks’ later in the night. Following Phoebe’s gaze, he grinned, “Oh, wonderful. It’s Lord Robert.”
“Lord Robert?”
“Yes, come along my dear Lady Phoebe. Do I have your permission to introduce someone to you?” Lord Thomas propelled her along until they were in the drawing room standing next to Robert. He appeared to be lost in thought as he stared into the fire.
Thomas nudged his friend, and Robert glanced up from the flames. “Tom.”
“Hello, Lord Robert. I have someone I’d like to present to you. Lady Phoebe, may I introduce to you, Lord Robert Weston.” He stood back and watched the eyes of Phoebe and Robert meet.
With a shock, Phoebe realized this was the man from the carriage on the bridge. She meekly smiled, and Lord Robert bowed to her. They continued looking into each other’s eyes. She felt sure he must remember her from the bridge.
“I suppose I’ll go and find some refreshment,” Lord Thomas said backing away from the couple.
The two stood as if in a secret, invisible column of light devoid of time, locked in an embrace of the eyes, unmoving.
Robert, seeming to pull himself out of a trance, spoke to her, quietly. “Would you care to dance, Lady Phoebe?”
“I would sir.” Phoebe’s heart pounded. Did he not hear? She placed her empty glass on a side table with shaking hands and took his arm. They stepped into the ballroom.
The giant gaslight chandelier twinkled magically over the dancers making them appear as glowing beings, and when the music stopped, Lady Phoebe was engulfed in a cacophony of requests to dance. For the rest of the evening she was paired up with this one and that one, never lacking for a dance partner, and engaging in endless chit chat about nothing. She tried to enjoy herself, but her eyes insisted on scanning the room ... looking. Searching for the man from the carriage. Lord Robert. That’s what Tom had said his name was. Lord Robert Weston.
*******
Robert should have left Hudson House immediately after dancing with Lady Phoebe. The glares he’d received from just about everyone in the ballroom were enough to frighten even him back to the countryside. It had been much less enjoyable to observe the ton’s disdain than he’d anticipated.
So, when Lady Judith made her entrance with his brother, the Marquess Hempstead, Robert knew it was time to make his exit. Apparently, allegedly leaving one’s betrothed held more weight on the scales of gossip than underage elopement or children born just this side of legitimacy.
He’d hurried out through the servants’ entrance off the kitchen. Dan was waiting for him in the unmarked carriage. Robert alerted the driver on where they were going, and in no time they were on the road that led to the country. Robert was escaping the sort of contempt he’d thought was particular only in his home. His mind circled back in time as the carriage swayed. Back to his fifteenth birthday.
*******
“Robert, is it you?”
“Yes, Mama. It’s me.” He’d knelt down at her bedside. The baby she’d birthed, after five prior miscarriages, had been stillborn. Her body had sustained a fever, and it was only a matter of time before her soul would vacate it. The only recourse for her pain, emotional and physical, had been the attempts of the staff and her younger son to alleviate her suffering.
“Ah, my boy. Come close.” She placed a hot hand on his cheek. “I’ve something to tell you. Something you must know, love.”
“Yes, Mother?”
“You, you must never speak of it to anyone. Do you understand?” She closed her eyes. The effort to speak had been great. Robert waited patiently for her to continue.
Finally, she’d opened her large, sherry coloured eyes made larger by the contrast of her scorched, white flesh. “Closer, child,” she’d whispered. “You must know this about yourself. And about your father.”
Love Stories of Enchanting Ladies: A Historical Regency Romance Collection Page 57