It was Beth who rescued the situation whilst the rest of them stood about like waxworks. She reached up to kiss Kit’s cheek, then turned to Eleanor as though there was nothing wrong in the world.
‘I was hoping to catch you for a quiet coze, my love! Were you returning home? I confess I have been shopping and am quite done up!’
‘Oh yes!’ Eleanor said hastily, not daring to look at Kit’s unyielding face. ‘By all means let us return to Montague Street! Kit, dearest…’ she put a hand on her husband’s arm ‘…you do not mind if I go back with Beth? I know that you have business at the gunsmith’s…’
‘Of course.’ Kit covered her fingers with his own and Eleanor was inexpressibly relieved. He gave her a glimmer of a smile. ‘I will see you later, my love. Good day, cos…’ He bowed to Eleanor and Beth, ignored Marcus pointedly, and strode away.
‘Marcus—’ Beth began indignantly, but her husband merely sketched them a bow, turned on his heel and strode away—in the opposite direction to Kit.
‘Men!’ Beth said furiously. ‘Of all the silly, childish behaviour…’
‘And we are left to procure ourselves a hackney carriage!’ Eleanor said mournfully. ‘One or other of them could have had the chivalry to call one for us before they left!’
‘Of course, it’s all of a piece!’ Beth said half an hour later, as she and Eleanor sat in the drawing-room of the house in Montague Street taking tea together. ‘You know as well as I, my love, that Marcus can be the most tiresomely obstinate creature when he chooses. Goodness knows, I love him to distraction, but sometimes…’ She broke off, stirring sugar vigorously into her cup. ‘Well, I shall have to speak to him about it!’
Eleanor shuddered slightly. When it came to obstinacy, Beth could win prizes herself and Eleanor was sure the results of such a confrontation would be spectacular.
‘It is all a little difficult,’ she said carefully. ‘I had no notion that Marcus would disapprove so…’
‘It is not his place to approve or disapprove,’ Beth said sharply, reaching for a piece of cake. ‘It is a matter between yourself and Kit only. Oh, I am so cross! And so hungry! I am always hungry!’
‘I expect that is because you are in a delicate condition,’ Eleanor commiserated. ‘Indeed, Beth, you should not allow Marcus to annoy you so. It will be bad for the baby!’
Beth sat back with a sigh. ‘Let us hope the child is of a less stubborn disposition that its father. But never mind about that! What about you, dearest?’ She fixed Eleanor with her perceptive silver gaze. ‘I so wondered how you were getting on but thought that you might not wish to see me.’
‘Because Kit is your cousin and you felt you had to defend him?’ Eleanor asked. She gave a rueful laugh. ‘Oh, Beth, this is getting so complicated!’
Beth patted her hand. ‘It need not be. We are friends, Eleanor, as well as sisters-in-law and,’ she laughed, ‘cousins-in-law if you will. If you wish to talk to me I should be pleased but if you wish me to attend to my own affairs then pray tell me so!’
Eleanor laughed too. Deep down she had known that Beth would stand her friend whatever the situation, but it was reassuring to have the matter confirmed.
‘To be frank, I should be glad of a confidante,’ she said, ‘but I do not wish to make matters awkward for you, Beth…’
Beth shrugged, scattering cake crumbs. ‘Oh, do not regard it. I know I am a sad rattle and I rush in where angels fear to tread, but if you do not wish me to tell anyone your secrets, dear Eleanor, then of course—I shall not!’
Eleanor only just managed to restrain herself from hugging her. ‘I know! I trust you. After all, you hold the biggest secret of them all.’
Beth’s smile faded. ‘You have not told Kit, then? Perhaps it is too soon…’
Eleanor pressed her hands together. Despite the warmth of the day, she felt the chill steal over her. It was always the same when she remembered those miserable months in Devon. She looked up and met Beth’s gaze.
‘I don’t intend to tell Kit, Beth. Not ever! Oh…’ she hurried on as she saw Beth’s look deepen into concern ‘…I know we have spoken of this and you think that Kit should know about the baby, but…’ she shook her head ‘…I could not bear to tell him! It would be too painful!’
‘I see,’ Beth said slowly. She leant forward and picked up her teacup. ‘Of course you may change your mind. Trust takes time to grow…’
‘I do not wish to trust Kit ever again!’ Eleanor said, in a rush. Now that she had started to talk it felt as though all her feelings were rushing out in an unstoppable flood. She looked at her sister-in-law. ‘Did Kit tell you that I had refused to listen to his excuses?’
‘Well…’ Beth said carefully.
‘Oh do not scruple to be kind to me!’ Eleanor said, feeling as though she wanted to burst into tears. ‘Truth to tell, I know I am being contrary but I am doing it deliberately because it is the only way to defend myself! I have to keep Kit at arm’s length, Beth, for once I start to let him even a little closer, where will it end?’ She made a gesture of despair. ‘First he will apologise and then he will tell me where he was for those five months and then I will forgive him and tell him what befell me and…’ she gulped ‘…before I know it I will be in danger of falling in love with him all over again!’
‘Well…’ Beth said again. She looked up and fixed Eleanor with a serious look, the sort of look that made her sister-in-law’s heart sink. ‘Would that be so bad, Nell? I know that Kit deserted you but he is a good man and there were reasons…’
Eleanor put her hands over her ears. She remembered the affinity that she and Kit had achieved only hours earlier. She did not want that to happen again. ‘I do not wish to hear!’
Beth smiled ruefully. ‘Very well!’
There was a silence. Eleanor peeked at her. She knew her sister-in-law was exercising almost superhuman powers of self-control in order to keep quiet, and somehow that made Eleanor feel even fonder of her than before because she knew Beth found it so difficult. After a moment she said cautiously:
‘Did Kit tell you where he had been, Beth?’
Beth gave her an old-fashioned look. ‘I am not telling!’
Eleanor sighed. ‘Please?’
Beth reached for another piece of cake. ‘Oh, very well. No, he did not tell me! Charlotte and I felt that Kit should speak to you first, Eleanor, before the rest of us hear his tale. So if you persistently refuse to hear him then I suppose we shall all just have to go in ignorance!’
Eleanor hesitated. Beth looked at her shrewdly. ‘Do you truly not want to know, Nell?’
Eleanor sighed. ‘Of course I want to know! I am consumed with curiosity!’
They both laughed, Eleanor with a little embarrassment.
‘Then…’ Beth said meaningfully.
‘But I shall not ask!’ Eleanor said, with spirit. ‘I have told you, Beth—I do not wish to like Kit any more…’
‘What, any more than you do already?’
Eleanor sighed again. There went another of her secrets. ‘Beth…’
Beth clapped her hands together. ‘I knew it! You cannot help yourself!’
Eleanor blushed a little. ‘I do like Kit, I admit it! I cannot seem to help it! Yet…’ she sobered ‘…I am also so very angry with him, Beth! I cannot just forgive and forget!’
‘Then speak to him!’ Beth urged, leaning forward. ‘Oh Nell, you cannot bottle it all up and pretend it never happened! Your resentment will fester and turn sour and…’ she made a slight gesture ‘…what sort of existence is that? Please…’
Eleanor’s heart was beating fast. She had to make Beth understand. She put her teacup down carefully.
‘Beth, I cannot allow Kit too close,’ she said baldly. ‘He wants a family and will expect—in time—that we will resume…that things will be…oh, you know what I mean!’ She made a gesture of exasperation. ‘He does not want a marriage in name only…’
‘I imagine not!’
‘So…’
Eleanor looked at her pleadingly. ‘Surely you understand? I cannot go through that again! The thought of making love…’ She shuddered. ‘Oh, a part of me wishes reconciliation with Kit more than anything, for safety, for security…But then I remember…’
Beth sighed. ‘Eleanor, because it happened once, it need not be the same again. And with Kit’s love and support—’
‘No!’ Eleanor could feel a pain starting in her throat, the pain she always got when she remembered the horror of losing her child. ‘I know there is no good reason for how I feel…’
‘Of course there is!’ Beth caught both her hands. ‘The best reason! You were young and alone and you miscarried your baby! No wonder you are angry and upset…’
Eleanor clung to her. ‘Then say you understand! If I allow myself to like Kit even a little, I am afraid of what will happen!’ She freed herself and put her hands over her face.
She felt Beth’s arms go around her as her sister-in-law hugged her tight. It was inexpressibly comforting. Eleanor gave a little sigh.
‘Damnation! I hate being such a watering-pot!’ She sat up. ‘You should know, Beth, that though I envy you the affection you have in your marriage to Marcus, in mine I intend nothing more than a lukewarm respect…’
‘Oh, Eleanor!’ Eleanor heard the laughter in Beth’s voice as her sister-in-law let her go and sat back. She looked at her enquiringly.
‘Beth? What have I said?’
Beth was shaking her head. ‘Have you thought about Kit at all in this, my love?’
Eleanor frowned. Was Beth being deliberately obtuse? ‘Constantly! I thought that you realised that that was the problem…’
Beth shook her head again. ‘No, I mean, have you thought what Kit will do whilst you try to achieve some sort of lukewarm, makeshift marriage?’ She laughed. ‘I have known my cousin all my life and I would say that he is no more patient than the next man! Well…’ Beth shrugged ‘…a little more patient than Marcus, perhaps, but in general terms—’ She broke off.
Eleanor watched her with foreboding. She had the sudden feeling that she had miscalculated and that Beth was about to put her finger on the flaw in her reasoning.
‘All the time that you are laying your plans, Nell…’ Beth expanded carefully ‘…Kit will be making his. And believe me, they will not involve a marriage of convenience, or a compromise where you never speak to each other except to request the butter! So you must be prepared to oppose him. And which of you will be the stronger? Especially…’ Beth fixed her with a stern regard and Eleanor felt herself shrink a little ‘…when at least a part of you is on the same side as Kit!’
Eleanor felt her heart sink. She knew Beth was right but she also knew she had to try. It was the only compromise that she was prepared to accept. The idea of making love, the thought of another pregnancy, the horror of another miscarriage…She shuddered violently.
‘It is the only thing that I can do,’ she said sadly. ‘I am sorry, Beth, but I have no choice.’
Chapter Five
‘Damnation!’
Eleanor peered at her reflection in the mirror, dropped her reticule on the floor with a thud and sank down on to her bed in a heap. She was already dressed for the ball and now she had decided that she would not attend after all. She was feeling very cross-grained. In fact, she was blue-devilled.
‘Whatever is the matter, milady?’ Lucy enquired mildly. She had been helping her mistress to dress and only a moment before had told her how very pretty she looked. And indeed, Eleanor thought now, she did look her best in her favourite dress, a simple silk slip with gold gauze that flattered her colouring and emphasised the slenderness of her figure. She had chosen the dress for two reasons—one was to give her courage at the first social occasion since Kit’s return and the second…Eleanor snapped her fan closed and drummed it against her fingers. The second reason also featured Kit and here Eleanor frowned ferociously. Her pride had demanded that she look her best so that Kit admired her and now she was disgusted with her own behaviour. Remembering her conversation with Beth earlier, Eleanor sighed heavily. Kit’s admiration—or lack of it—should be nothing to her. If she wished to keep her distance from Kit she should do nothing to encourage him.
‘I am not going,’ she said baldly.
Lucy continued with her placid tidying of the room. She picked up several discarded dresses and hung them away.
‘I expect you’re feeling nervous, ma’am,’ she sympathised. ‘You’ll feel better when you have his lordship by your side…’
‘No I shan’t!’ Eleanor said pettishly. ‘I shall feel much worse! In fact the thought of going to this ball with Lord Mostyn makes me feel quite monstrous ill…’
‘May I come in?’
Eleanor broke off sharply at the sound of Kit’s voice. He was standing in the doorway, not the door to his dressing-room, which was still firmly fastened on Eleanor’s side with a shiny new bolt, but the door to the landing. Eleanor scrambled to her feet, feeling foolish and annoyed to have been found slouching on her bed in so undignified a position. Had Kit heard her words? She could not tell. His face was impassive. She felt ashamed of herself.
‘I have something for you,’ Kit continued, coming forward into the room. He was carrying a flat package in his hand. He nodded a dismissal to Lucy who tripped out, a smile of romantic satisfaction on her face. It only added to Eleanor’s irritation that her maid persisted in thinking that she and Kit were involved in some passionate reconciliation—despite the ostentatious bolt on the door.
‘What is it?’ she asked, knowing she sounded ungracious.
Kit seemed unperturbed. ‘It is a surprise,’ he said. ‘Turn around to face the mirror and close your eyes.’
It was on the tip of Eleanor’s tongue to refuse, but something in Kit’s face made her comply with his request. She closed her eyes, then almost jumped as she felt Kit’s fingers lightly touch her neck, warm against her skin. The sensation was in no way unpleasant but suddenly her skin seemed peculiarly sensitive to the brush of his hand and she had to force herself not to move away. She felt confused and light-headed, and it was a relief when Kit said:
‘Open your eyes!’
Eleanor did so, and saw that she was wearing a delicately worked pendant necklace of diamonds and emeralds set in white gold, the exact colour of her dress. She stared, entranced.
‘Oh, it is so pretty! But…’ she turned her head to look at Kit ‘…surely these are the Mostyn diamonds? I have seen Beth wearing them…’
Kit was smiling at her in a way that only served to increase her confusion. ‘They suit you very well,’ he said slowly. ‘I thought that they would.’
Eleanor stroked the stones of the necklace gently. The metal had felt cold at first but was starting to warm now as it lay against her skin. It was a beautiful necklace and Kit was right, its delicacy suited her well. Not for her the enormous parures of some of the matrons, the stiff encrustations of jewels that looked as though they were some sort of armour. She was so slender that she needed something equally light and ethereal.
‘Beth wanted you to have them,’ Kit said now, smiling at her reassuringly as Eleanor continued to look uncertain. ‘They are family jewels intended to be worn by each Lady Mostyn. They are rightfully yours. Besides,’ he grinned, ‘maybe it is ungentlemanly of me to mention it, but Beth felt that she needed something slightly more…robust…to suit her figure!’
Eleanor was betrayed into a giggle. ‘Well, she could carry off something more magnificent, whereas I do not have the…er…appropriate proportions…’
She glanced down at her own, small bust, looked up and realised that Kit was looking in the same direction. He raised a lazy eyebrow, the smile still on his lips.
‘I have no complaint, Eleanor!’
Eleanor felt a huge wave of colour start at her feet and envelop her up to her hairline. She felt hot and embarrassed and, worse, she felt dizzy and confused. If Kit was always going to be able to make her feel such a troubling a
wareness, she was not sure that she could bear to live in such close proximity with him. To cover her embarrassment, she reached for her evening cloak and started to chatter brightly.
‘Perhaps if Mama could be persuaded to give up the Trevithick rubies, Beth would have a necklace worthy of her. They are not really Mama’s to wear anyway, given that Papa was never the Earl. Have you seen the necklace, Kit? It is a magnificent piece but huge and barbaric and needs to be set off by an appropriate…’ She stopped and waved her hands about mutely, realising that she was back on the same subject again.
‘An appropriate décolletage?’ Kit murmured. He had taken the cloak from her and was setting it about her, and Eleanor was aware of his hands on her shoulders, firm and strong. She pulled the cloak together to hide her own décolletage, which once again appeared to have become the focus of his eyes.
‘Well, shall we go?’ she enquired, a shade too brightly. ‘We do not wish to miss any of the ball!’
‘No indeed,’ Kit said, a little wryly. ‘It should be an occasion to remember!’
Eleanor eyed him a little warily. It had not occurred to her that Kit might have any concerns about the evening, yet when she thought about it she realised that his position was as awkward as her own. Not only was there the difficult water of family relationships to negotiate, but there was the unknown element of the reaction of the Ton. Society was so fickle and could outlaw one of their own at a stroke.
‘I am sure you need have no concerns about your welcome from the family,’ she said, as they seated themselves in the carriage. ‘No matter what anyone is thinking, I am persuaded that their behaviour will be quite proper on the surface.’
The Notorious Marriage Page 9