Eleanor was shaking her head in disbelief. ‘So you know that Kit and I are not yet reconciled and that Mama is a thief and that Marcus and Justin are being stupid about reinstigating the family feud—’
‘Ah, so that is what it is about!’ Lady Salome said triumphantly. ‘I could not imagine that Beth and Charlotte were…ah…withholding their favours for anything other than a good reason! But that is very piquant, as you will see when you hear my tale! Yes, decidedly we shall come back to that tale!’
‘And as for Mama, she is under the influence of her laudanum and has taken to stealing jewellery to pay—’
Lady Salome shook her head sorrowfully. ‘A nasty problem, that one! But we shall see!’
‘And what do you have to tell me about Kit?’ Eleanor eyed her keenly. ‘He said that he was not at liberty to tell me the whole tale, but I thought, I assumed, it was a matter of business rather than a family affair…’
‘Never assume, my love!’ Lady Salome threw up her hands. ‘Soon I shall give you a full assurance of understanding! Saint Paul’s letter to the Corinthians, Chapter…well, well, never mind.’ Lady Salome sat back. ‘A delicious lunch, my dear. I find it helps the thought processes miraculously. So…’ She exhaled her breath on a long and thoughtful sigh.
‘As for this silly feud, I do believe that Beth and Charlotte will triumph in a very short time!’ She twinkled at Eleanor. ‘Neither Justin not Marcus have the temperament for a long abstinence, not when temptation is under their noses. Indeed, it is rather fun, like a morality play! As for your mama…’ she sobered ‘…that is a more intractable problem, I fear.’
‘Mama has been taking laudanum for years,’ Eleanor said thoughtfully. ‘Everyone does! Lady Pomfret, and Lady Spence and Mrs Hetherington…There is no harm in it.’
Lady Salome shook her head sharply. ‘There I must beg to differ, my dear! Laudanum is the most pernicious dose and sadly undermining to one’s moral fibre. Oh, I know that it eases the pain of the toothache or the bad head, but when one starts to take it simply for the beneficial feeling, when one becomes dependent upon it…Then it cannot be a good thing!’
‘It is true that Mama doses herself up an unconscionable amount,’ Eleanor admitted. ‘And then her temper is uncertain and her health has been poor…But surely…I cannot believe that she is dependent…’ She frowned, remembering the desperate look in Lady Trevithick’s eye when she had realised that her bottle was empty at the musicale, her insistence that Kemble be asked to provide her with some more of the drug. Yet everyone took laudanum for their ills…Why, Eleanor thought incredulously, if she complained to the doctor of feeling out of spirits, no doubt he would prescribe it for her himself! Yet if Lady Salome was correct there was a far more insidious effect and Lady Trevithick was in its grip. She would do anything to satisfy her need for the drug…
‘Mama does not purchase her laudanum from the apothecary in the normal way,’ she said slowly. ‘I believe that one of her acquaintance supplies her with it and that she pays him for the privilege. Though why she would need to do so…’
‘Quantity,’ Lady Salome said succinctly. ‘You may know, my dear, that the chemists will only supply a small amount at a time, for they fear that some sad wretches will use it to end their lives! But your mama requires more than the usual dose and so she obtains it elsewhere—and pays for it with other peoples’ jewellery!’ Lady Salome patted her diamonds protectively. She looked almost offended.
‘It is not the first time,’ Eleanor admitted. ‘I fear that a piece of the Trevithick ruby set is gone, as was Charlotte’s bracelet at the ball the other night…’ And she related the tale of the lost bracelet and her insistence that her mother return it, and all the other occasions on which she had observed Lady Trevithick under the laudanum’s influence. It was a relief to tell someone without feeling disloyal; Lady Salome listened, and tutted and Eleanor felt a little less alone.
‘We shall have to see what can be done,’ Lady Salome said, at the end. ‘Certainly this man Kemble must be stopped and your mama rescued from her difficulties. It is not so simple…I must think!’
‘Yes, Aunt. Another cup of tea?’ Eleanor was suddenly aware that they had covered two of the three family problems and would be progressing inevitably to her own situation if she were not careful, and whilst she was curious to know how Lady Salome had met with Kit in the first instance, she did not wish to expose her own feelings to that lady’s unerring scrutiny.
‘Thank you, my love.’ Lady Salome watched her thoughtfully as Eleanor rang the bell and sent for a fresh pot and some cake. ‘You will be wishing to know, I am sure, how I met with your husband…’
‘Yes…’ Eleanor said warily. ‘I confess it is uppermost in my mind!’
Lady Salome smiled. ‘You are aware, of course, that Christopher has undertaken some small…commissions…for Lord Castlereagh in the past?’
‘Yes,’ Eleanor said. ‘Kit told me so last night. Before that I had no notion.’
‘Of course.’ Lady Salome twinkled at her. ‘For the safety of the nation one would hope we all go unaware of these things! As to my own involvement in this story, I confess that I had no notion why Christopher was in Ireland in the first instance, but it was fortuitous for me that he was! When we met,’ she settled her bulk lower in the chair as she prepared to tell the tale, ‘it was in early February and I know that he was anxious to return to you as soon as possible, my dear. He said that he had already been away too long and intimated that it was the most ill-timed and mismanaged business imaginable…But that is for him to explain. Perhaps he has already done so…’
‘Yes,’ Eleanor said, frowning a little. ‘The only information he withheld from me was the nature of the delay, but I understand now, dear Aunt, that this was on your account?’
‘Quite right, my dear!’ Lady Salome nodded energetically. ‘I confess that I was in the most parlous straits when I met Christopher. There is no concealing it.’ She sighed. ‘You may know that your Uncle St John Trevithick had been summoned from Fairhaven to Exeter last autumn by the bishop, who was not at all happy with St John’s behaviour?’
Eleanor nodded. Marcus had mentioned months ago that their uncle, St John Trevithick, who was the vicar of Fairhaven, had been called to Exeter on unspecified church business. Now it seemed that the matter was more ominous than had first appeared.
Lady Salome resumed: ‘Well, it was to be expected that the bishop would get wind of St John’s problems, I suppose! The drinking and the sleeping in the church services and those long-winded sermons…The islanders of Fairhaven used to find St John amusing, but I knew he could not carry on, though we were at pains to conceal it from the bishop for pride’s sake if nothing else—’ She broke off.
‘Forgive me, child, I am rambling. In short, the bishop sent St John on a visit to Ireland in January. It was made quite clear that this was my brother’s last chance, but alas and alack, he made the most appalling mull of it! He was late for appointments and missed services and was drunk and querulous…’ Lady Salome sighed heavily and Eleanor could tell how much the memory of it still appalled her.
‘When Christopher happened upon us in our lodgings I was at my wit’s end, for St John had spent all our money on drink and I did not even have the funds to pay our rent or the return trip. You can imagine that when I saw a kinsman I was utterly relieved and begged for his help.’
Eleanor frowned. ‘Forgive me, Aunt, but how did you know that Kit was kin of yours? Why, until recent times the Mostyn and Trevithick families were the most staunch enemies imaginable!’
Lady Salome gestured widely. ‘Indeed, and it was most fortunate they were, for it was that that made me recognise the Mostyn name. And of course I knew that Beth was to wed Marcus…’
‘Oh, of course…’ The pieces slid into place in Eleanor’s mind. When Lady Salome had left Fairhaven to join her brother in Exeter, Marcus and Beth had already been betrothed. She would have known that the marriage had gone ahead and th
at there was now a tenuous but real link between the previously warring families. No wonder Lady Salome had applied to Kit for help in her difficulties—and he had responded as any true kinsman would…Eleanor felt a sudden, warm sense of appreciation for Kit’s honourable conduct.
‘It took several weeks for Christopher to untangle the mess that St John had made,’ Lady Salome said sadly, ‘and although I sensed that he was chafing to return home, he was the perfect gentleman and never sought to leave us to our own devices. Eventually one evening, when matters were at a very low ebb for both of us, he confided in me the story of your marriage, child…’ Lady Salome’s eyes were sad. ‘I confess that I was shocked—oh, not that the wedding had come about as it had, but that Christopher had been obliged to leave you so untimely, and here was I, delaying him still further…’ For a moment Eleanor thought her Aunt was about to cry, but Lady Salome was made of sterner stuff. ‘I urged him to leave us but he would not. It was then that he told me of the letters he had sent you and how he hoped that matters would come right in the end…’ She sat up straighter. ‘And here I am, hoping against hope that that will be the case!’
Eleanor put both hands around her teacup, drawing comfort from the warmth. Now that she knew the truth, it was impossible to reproach Kit for his conduct in staying away so long, for he had put Lady Salome’s problems first, no matter the personal cost.
Lady Salome was hunting in her reticule for her handkerchief, and gave her nose a hearty blow.
‘I am so very sorry, my dear child,’ she said gruffly. ‘You will see now why I found it imperative to speak to you and to explain matters! Indeed, I should have done so before our trip this morning, but I confess I was a little nervous, and needed time to prepare…’
A sudden thought struck Eleanor. ‘When was it that you returned to England, Aunt? Did Kit travel with you?’
Lady Salome nodded. ‘Yes, my love. We all travelled back together at the end of last month and St John and I went straight to the bishop in Exeter. St John did the only thing he could, and retired from his living, so in the future we will both be settled in Devon.’
Eleanor let out her breath in a silent sigh. So Kit had been with Lady Salome until the end of April and then had returned to England, parting company with them and making his way up to London at last…She remembered the scrap of paper with ‘St John at seven’ written on it. An assignation indeed. She would never have guessed.
Lady Salome was looking much happier now, putting her handkerchief away with a briskly practical air, the tears now quite banished. She leaned forward and patted Eleanor’s hand again.
‘Pray do not hesitate to tell your husband that we have spoken, my love, for I know he cares for you deeply and I cannot but feel here…’ Lady Salome pressed her hand to her breast in the general area of her heart ‘…that I am responsible for your estrangement! It was all so difficult! I swore Christopher to secrecy because I did not wish St John’s disgrace to be known until he had resigned his living and I had the chance to tell your brother. As the head of the family Marcus had to be told first, but neither Christopher nor I really imagined the difficulties that would cause—’
‘Marcus!’ Eleanor cried. ‘He cannot know that Kit helped you, Aunt, or he would never be pursuing this silly feud…’
Lady Salome’s smile twinkled briefly. She got to her feet and embraced her niece fervently. ‘No indeed! Your husband did not wish me to tell him, my dear! Some foolish matter to do with men and honour!’
Eleanor hugged her back. ‘Oh, dear Aunt…’ a thought had suddenly popped into her head ‘…I understand now what you meant when you mentioned that it was piquant that Marcus was pursuing the family feud! For if he were to know of Kit’s involvement in your affairs—’
‘He would feel obliged to repay him, never mind to thank him!’ Lady Salome finished, her eyes gleaming. ‘Indeed, it is very bad of me not to enlighten your brother, my dear, and I am tempted to do so, for all I gave Christopher my word! For now I feel that Beth’s solution is so much more…entertaining, so we shall see what happens! But be sure that the truth will out in the end! It always does, my love! It always does!’
Eleanor retired to bed that evening reflecting that it was typical that she had not been able to speak to Kit alone on the one occasion that she was desperate to do so. He had been tied up with his man of business that afternoon and had arrived home late, and as they were engaged to dine with a party at Lady Spence’s there was no time to broach so serious a subject as Lady Salome’s revelations before they left. At dinner she was seated as far away from Kit as possible and afterwards he had accepted Lord Spence’s invitation to join him at Whites and Eleanor had returned home feeling tired and annoyed. It was not that she was expecting Kit to hang on her coattails, she told herself crossly, but it would have been pleasant for him to do so that particular evening when she had a special reason for needing him. She vowed to stay awake until he returned from Whites, then realised that to appear in his bedroom at that time of night would be somewhat equivocal, especially in view of the situation between them. Finally she retired to bed—Kit had still not returned—and fell into an uneasy sleep, only to awaken an unspecified amount of time later.
The house was quiet but for some reason she could not understand, Eleanor was wide awake. She slid out of bed and listened for sounds from Kit’s room to see if she could ascertain whether he had returned, but there was no noise to guide her one way or the other. Eleanor reached for her dressing-robe. It was a plain no-nonsense affair, far removed from the light confections of silk and lace that Beth had purchased after her marriage to Marcus. Eleanor smiled to herself a little wryly; it seemed that she had moved from the innocent apparel of a débutante to the practical attire of a dowager with barely a pause in the middle. She tied the belt firmly. That was not precisely true, of course—there had been two nights of passion in between and even now the memory made her shiver, like a pleasurable spell that had not quite lost its power to charm. But that was the last thing that she should be thinking of at a time like this. Such pleasure must never be permitted to charm her again.
Eleanor slid back the bolt and turned the knob on the dressing-room door. The dressing-room itself was empty, as was the bedroom, although the candles were lit. Eleanor was about to turn around and go back to her own room, when the door opened and Kit came in, a candle in one hand and a glass of wine in the other.
Eleanor recoiled, clutching her dressing-gown under her chin. It was Kit who recovered himself first.
‘Eleanor! Good evening! Could you not sleep?’
Eleanor came forward into the room slowly. ‘No, I could not. That is, I wished to speak with you, Kit. It will not take long.’ She drew herself up. ‘Lady Salome has spoken to me and I now know the whole tale.’
‘I see,’ Kit said. ‘Then there is no need to look as though you are about to run away again! Won’t you sit down? Please?’
There had always been something about Kit’s voice, Eleanor thought weakly, something persuasive, almost hypnotic, that made you agree to whatever he suggested before you had really thought about it. The timbre of his voice, low and mellow, was one of the first things that she had noticed about him. It had fascinated her, made her think all kinds of foolish things when he had spoken to her of love…And now it was set fair to undermine her defences before she had barely uttered a word. Yet it was too late to flee. Kit was placing a chair for her before the fire.
Eleanor sat down, curling up within the comforting bulk of the armchair, tucking her bare feet under her. Kit tossed another log on to the fire and made the flames hiss in the grate. Then he sat down. And looked at her. Eleanor’s heart started to race. Here, in his bedroom, she felt so vulnerable that she could barely keep her mind on the matter in hand.
‘Lady Salome has spoken to me.’ She blurted out again. ‘I know what happened in Ireland!’
Kit smiled a little ruefully. ‘I knew she was determined to tell you! And indeed, Nell, when I realise
d what a coil my promise to keep silent had put me into, I was sorely tempted to break it and tell you myself.’ He looked rueful. ‘When I offered my services to your aunt and uncle in Ireland, I did not think the matter would take so long. More than once I cursed the delay, but I could not break my word. It was damnably difficult!’
‘You acted most honourably, Kit,’ Eleanor said, a little gruffly.
Kit smiled reluctantly in return. He got up and came across to her, taking her hands in his. ‘So now it is all over. Do you forgive me, Eleanor?’
Eleanor’s smile faded. She felt a little cold. She knew what Kit wanted and she could not give it to him. Forgiveness, yes. Reconciliation…
‘Of course I forgive you, Kit.’ She made her voice as steady as she could. ‘I am glad that we have reached an understanding, for it makes it so much easier for me to say…what I have to say.’
She stopped. Kit was still holding her hands and the warmth of his touch was disarming. Eleanor struggled to blot it out. She would not be able to do this if she allowed herself to weaken even slightly. And she had to do it. She could not allow even the possibility of a reconciliation and she knew that they had been moving towards it gently, inexorably…
She saw the wariness in Kit’s eyes as he realised that something was wrong. His grip on her hands tightened.
‘Eleanor…’
Eleanor looked down at her lap. She could not meet his gaze.
‘I think that our marriage should be annulled,’ she said.
Chapter Ten
Kit relinquished her hands and stood up slowly. There was a strange, stunned look in his eyes, a mixture of disbelief and denial. He cleared his throat.
‘Eleanor, I cannot believe that you really mean that!’
Eleanor clenched her fists. ‘Oh but I do, Kit!’ Her voice wavered slightly and did not have anywhere near the conviction it needed, but she ploughed on.
The Notorious Marriage Page 17