It was not until the evening of the ball that she realised the truth. That night she was looking at her best in a gown of creamy spider gauze over a matching satin slip. Her only ornament was a string of river pearls.
Rushmore had engaged her for the waltz. This time she had no reservations so she gave herself to the pleasure of the dance. Her enjoyment communicated itself to him.
‘Happy?’ he asked quietly.
‘Of course, my lord!’ Perdita gave him a brilliant smile.
‘I’m glad of it! In these last few days I have found you a little…er…preoccupied.’
‘I know. It’s just that…well…this resolution of Louise’s problem seems too easy. Do you not agree?’
‘I’ve been surprised,’ he admitted. ‘But you have noticed nothing untoward?’
For a moment Perdita considered telling him of the curious incident when the lace was found in Louise’s reticule, but she dismissed the notion. That could have nothing to do with Matthew Verreker. She shook her head.
‘Then put these worries out of your mind. You are in famous looks tonight, my dear. I am the envy of every man in the room.’
Perdita blushed. ‘Sir, I wish that you would not…’
He gave her a tender look. ‘You must be the only woman in the world who does not care to be complimented upon her appearance.’
‘It is not the most important thing,’ she told him in a low voice. ‘I can think of worthier reasons for a compliment.’
‘So can I!’ Suddenly the Earl forgot his promise to himself. After all, he had written to Perdita’s father, stating his intentions, and Miss Langrishe knew of his feelings for her. He was doing nothing underhand. Before he left for London he must tell Perdita of his love.
‘Do you not find it warm in here?’ he asked. ‘Let us find a place where we can talk.’
‘But this waltz is not over,’ she protested.
‘We can waltz again later,’ he told her firmly. ‘This is important, my dear.’
Unsuspecting, she allowed him to lead her to a sofa in the adjoining anteroom. He took a seat beside her, but he was silent for so long that she was seized with dread.
‘What is it?’ she cried. ‘Are you keeping something from me? Does this concern Louise?’
Rushmore took both her hands in his. ‘I have been keeping something from you, but it does not concern Louise. Can you not guess, Perdita?’
She drew her hands away. ‘You are speaking in riddles, sir. I cannot read your mind.’
‘How I wish that I could read yours. Tell me, shall you miss me when I leave for London?’
To her horror, Perdita felt her colour rising. She tried to smile. ‘You are certain to be missed, my lord. When you and my cousins leave, we shall be bereft of half of our company.’
‘Don’t torment me, my dear one. That was not what I asked you.’
Perdita tried to rise, but he slipped his arm about her waist, and held her to him.
‘Don’t be afraid,’ he whispered, ‘I love you. I want you to become my wife… I have written to your father asking his permission to address you.’
Perdita was too shocked to answer him. His offer had been totally unexpected and it startled her.
‘You have written to my father?’ she asked in disbelief. ‘How dare you, sir? Are my own wishes not to be considered?’
‘They are of the first importance, but your parents must be consulted, as you know.’
‘Kindly remove your arm,’ she said stiffly. ‘You said once that I planned to become a Countess. Let me assure you that nothing is further from my mind.’
Rushmore released her at once. ‘So nothing I have done or said since that unfortunate evening has changed your opinion of me?’
‘I won’t lie to you, my lord. I was wrong in thinking of you as I did. We have been allies, you and I, but only in regard to Louise. You have been kind to her…but that does not make us friends.’
‘I see! You have not learned to trust me?’
‘I have, but I will not be your wife.’
‘Won’t you reconsider? You might offer me some hope. I can wait, Perdita. Only say that you will think about my offer.’
‘Sir, it would be useless,’ she told him firmly. ‘I have no wish to wed you, and that must be an end of it.’
Rushmore dropped his head in his hands, but at that moment another couple entered the room. Their curious look brought Perdita to her feet.‘
‘Please take me back to my aunt,’ she said in a low voice. ‘We are giving rise to speculation.’
On their return to the ballroom Rushmore surrendered her to her cousin Henry. Then he took a seat beside Miss Langrishe.
‘Well, my boy? You look as if Napoleon has escaped.’
‘I’ve ruined any chance I might have had, ma’am. I hadn’t meant to speak so soon, but tonight I couldn’t hide my feelings…’
‘So Perdita has refused you?’
‘Yes, she offers me no hope. She will not even think about my offer.’
‘You moved too fast. She is still so young, my dear.’
‘In some ways…I agree…but not in others. Sometimes she surprises me.’
Miss Langrishe smiled to herself. Perdita had not planned it so, but it would do the Earl of Rushmore no harm to be forced to struggle for her affections.
‘Go away!’ she advised. ‘When you return, Perdita may have changed her mind.’
Rushmore shook his head, convinced that he had lost his only love, but Miss Langrishe had her own beliefs confirmed.
For the next few days Perdita was subdued. Rushmore’s offer had come as a surprise and must, of course, be refused, but she could not be easy in her mind. Had she been unkind? The look on his face returned to haunt her. His lordship had looked stricken to the heart. How unworthy it had been to remind him of the casual remark he’d made at Almack’s. After all, he had offered her his heart and she could not doubt his sincerity. At last she told her great-aunt.
‘Don’t worry about it, Perdita!’ that lady advised. ‘After all, gentlemen cannot always have their way. You did not wish to marry him, and you told him so. That is fair dealing, so it seems to me.’
‘I suppose so,’ Perdita said reluctantly. ‘It is just that…well…I might have been more tactful, but he caught me unawares.’
‘The Earl is a man grown. This is a disappointment for him, but in my experience gentlemen do not suffer overlong. All the fond mamas in London will regard him as a catch. He won’t be deprived of female company. When next we hear of him it is likely to be in the society pages of the Gazette with news of his betrothal.’
For some strange reason this did nothing to reassure Perdita. As the days went by she found herself wondering how the Earl was spending his time. He did not care for Almack’s, that she knew, but there were other diversions, such as military reviews and balloon ascents, to say nothing of the daily parade of beauties in Rotten Row.
He was welcome to them, of course. It was just that she seemed unable to rid herself of the habit of looking for his tall figure everywhere she went and searching other faces for that same quizzical smile. There seemed to be a curious flatness in the conversation of those about her. She had grown to enjoy the Earl’s challenging banter, but even that could not account for the fact she felt so lost without him.
‘I knew it!’ Amy announced. ‘It has turned out as I thought it would. You are in love with Rushmore!’
‘Don’t be stupid, Amy! What on earth gave you that ridiculous idea?’
‘Only the fact that you’ve been mooning about like a love-sick calf ever since he went away. I tell you, Dita, I long to find a place where no one is in love. Between Louise, who quotes Thomas and his perfections until I tire of hearing her, and you, who have not a word to say to anyone, I find the whole thing overrated, especially for a bystander.’
‘I’m sorry! I have been finding Bath a little dull of late. It was much more interesting when the boys were here.’
‘But not,
of course, the Earl of Rushmore?’ Amy’s tone was teasing, but then she saw Perdita’s face crumple. ‘Oh, love, I didn’t mean to distress you. I thought he must have spoken before he went to London.’
‘He did,’ Perdita whispered in a broken voice. ‘But I refused him…’
‘Well, that is not so very dreadful,’ her sister soothed. ‘He will come back. I can’t think why you did it, though. You deal so very well together, and he is besotted with you.’
‘He won’t come back. I told him that he must not hope. I was unkind, and now I am regretting it. It was just that… Oh, Amy, I did not know just how much I cared for him. I wouldn’t admit it, even to myself. Now I have lost him and I don’t know how to bear it.’ A little sob escaped her lips.
‘Cheer up!’ Amy advised. ‘Don’t forget that the Earl is a military man. Even now he is planning his campaign to win you.’
‘Or to win someone else.’ Perdita would not be comforted.
‘Don’t be such a watering-pot!’ Amy’s reply was scathing. ‘You are suffering from boredom as much as anything. Let us ask Aunt if we may hire the horses for another ride into the country. The grooms could escort us. We must do something or we shall fall into melancholy.’
‘Would that be wise? We promised the Earl that we would stay in town.’
‘The men could be armed in case of an attack upon Louise. That would provide a diversion for you.’ Amy’s eyes were sparkling.
‘It isn’t one that I should welcome. I believe that we should stay in Bath for the present. We know that Louise is safe here.’
Perdita was wrong, but she did not know it at the time.
Chapter Eleven
Miss Langrishe was not an early riser, so Perdita was startled to receive an urgent summons to her room whilst she was still abed the following morning.
Throwing on her robe, Perdita hurried along the corridor, expecting to hear that her aunt’s attack of gout was worse.
‘Are you ill, ma’am?’ she asked anxiously. ‘Must I send for the physician?’ The old lady’s pallor was alarming.
Miss Langrishe shook her head. ‘He can do nothing in this instance.’ With a shaking hand she held out a letter to Perdita. ‘This was delivered at first light.’
The letter was addressed to Louise.
‘You have not opened it?’
‘No, my dear. Clearly it is a private correspondence. Oh dear, it must be from that dreadful creature, Verreker!’
‘It could be from his lordship.’ Perdita scrutinised the writing. ‘It is not a woman’s hand.’
‘Adam would have sent a letter by the post and franked it in the usual way. It would have borne his seal. He would not have sent some urchin to the door to hand it in.’
‘Then Thomas?’
‘Your cousins have returned to London, as you know. And Thomas would not write without asking permission first. Oh, my dear, I hoped that we had heard the last of Verreker.’
‘It could be a letter of farewell,’ Perdita comforted. ‘He may have given up all hope of Louise. Possibly he has found another target.’
‘I hope you may be right.’ Miss Langrishe was unconvinced. ‘I shall not rest until I know the contents.’
‘Louise will show it to you, Aunt. She knows that she must do so. The Earl was most insistent on that point.’ Perdita handed back the letter, disturbed by the older woman’s agitation. ‘The girls will be here this afternoon, so do try not to worry. Louise has changed, you know. She is no longer quite so gullible, and she does not speak of Verreker as she was used to do.’
‘You are right, my dear. She does not go about as if she is wearing the willow, but who knows what that creature has in mind?’
‘It may not even be from him.’ Perdita managed a brief smile.
‘Who else would write to her? It is from him, I know it.’
‘Even so, you do not need to fear for her. She will do nothing foolish. Adam…his lordship…has persuaded her that she must behave as her late father would have wished.’
‘How sensible you are, my dear! I am a foolish old woman, seeing danger behind every bush.’ The colour was returning to her cheeks. ‘Even so, I shan’t be easy in my mind until we know the contents of this letter.’ She pushed the offending missive away from her.
Perdita left her then, but her thoughts were troubled. Her words of encouragement had sounded unconvincing even to her own ears. Verreker was not the man to write a noble letter of farewell. He must have some other plan in mind.
She was unprepared for the magnitude of the shock which awaited her that afternoon.
‘I have no secrets from you, ma’am.’ Louise blushed a little when Miss Langrishe handed the letter to her. ‘Please open it yourself.’
‘No, no, my dear, though I must admit that we are mighty curious. The letter did not come by the post, you see. Now, pray don’t keep us in suspense…’
She waited expectantly as Louise tore the missive open and scanned the contents. Then she heard a gasp. Louise was swaying and would have fallen if Amy had not slipped an arm about her waist.
‘What is it, my dear? Oh, do sit down! Perdita, will you ring the bell? Bates must bring some brandy—’
‘No, please! I am all right. It is just that I did not expect…’ With a trembling hand Louise held the letter out to the old lady.
It was brief, but Miss Langrishe paled as she read it aloud. ‘Your friends and acquaintances will wish to know how you came by the piece of lace stolen in Bath some days ago. This unpleasantness may be easily avoided, for a certain consideration. You may signal your compliance by visiting the cathedral tomorrow at eleven…alone. Failure to do so will result in charges being laid with the magistrates. There were several witnesses to this theft.’
Miss Langrishe was as white as the ribbons which trimmed her gown. ‘What is all this, Louise?’ she asked. ‘I have heard nothing of it.’
‘It didn’t seem important enough to tell you, ma’am. It was all a mistake. We bought your lace, and then the man came running after us in the street. He said some lace was missing.’
Amy looked confused. She was still trying to grasp the enormity of what was being suggested.
‘But that could have nothing to do with you,’ Miss Langrishe protested.
‘He found the missing lace in Louise’s reticule,’ Perdita told her slowly. ‘We wondered why he should ask for Louise’s name and her direction. Then we thought nothing more about it.’ Anger threatened to consume her. ‘This is nothing more than a cheap attempt at blackmail. Verreker must be behind it.’
‘No! You are mistaken!’ Louise went red and white by turns. ‘He was not there. How could he know of the missing lace?’
‘I don’t know, but it all sounds very smoky to me. An assignation in the cathedral? He mentions consideration, but he must know that you are much too young to be in control of your own fortune.’
‘But he has threatened to lay charges with the magistrates.’ Louise was close to tears. ‘I must keep the appointment, if only to enquire—’
‘You will do no such thing,’ Perdita told her sternly. ‘Nothing can be proved against you. You had best ignore the letter. Throw it in the fire!’
‘No! I believe that we should keep it.’ Miss Langrishe was insistent on the point. ‘How I wish that Rushmore had not left us. He would know exactly what to do.’
‘I will go back to the shop,’ Perdita told her. ‘There is some mystery here. Why ask for a secret meeting? The owner might have come to see you here.’
She thought she knew the answer. The letter bore all the signs of Verreker’s hand.
At eleven in the morning the cathedral would be deserted. There were several entrances. What could be easier than to throw a veil over Louise’s head and hurry her away by a side door?
‘I will go with you,’ Miss Langrishe said at once. Her gout was no better, but she was determined to accompany Perdita.
It came as no surprise to Perdita to discover that the owner and his son
were absent from the shop in Milsom Street that day. An obsequious male assistant announced that they had been summoned to the funeral of a distant relative.
‘I don’t believe it for a moment,’ Perdita fumed. ‘They must be in league with Verreker.’
‘Is that likely, Perdita? I detest the man as much as you do yourself, but such a notion seems far-fetched.’
‘Perhaps! But once he has Louise and her fortune he could offer them a share of it.’
‘They have not reckoned with Adam.’
‘No, Aunt, but he isn’t here. How clever they were to wait until he’d left for London! They may hope to spirit her away tomorrow. By the time he found them it would be too late.’
It was her aunt’s turn to offer comfort. ‘That won’t happen, my dear. Louise must not keep the appointment.’
‘He may lay charges purely out of spite—’
‘Let him do so. My name is good enough, I think, to counter any accusations.’
Miss Langrishe was mistaken. It was an apologetic officer of the law who arrived at Laura Place the following week, but he could not be persuaded from his duty.
‘My apologies, ma’am!’ The young man was all deference. ‘But I am afraid there is no help for it. The young lady must be taken in charge.’
‘I wish to see the magistrate,’ Miss Langrishe announced in awful tones. ‘He is well known to me.’
‘As you wish, madam.’ The young man was prepared to wait. The charge was clear, and he doubted if this formidable lady would away the decision of his superior. He was right.
‘Beatrice, I am very sorry,’ that gentleman informed his friend. ‘The law is clear in this respect. Miss Bryant must be taken into custody. Naturally, she will not be lodged in the common gaol. The gaol-keeper will take her into his own house.’
‘Frederick, she is a child. This is a trumped-up charge.’
The Rebellious Debutante Page 18