‘I’ll go, miss,’ she said at last. ‘But you must get him to say he called round of his own accord.’
‘I will, Betty. I promise. Now wait there until I write something.’
Betty waited patiently until Deirdre had scribbled a letter. ‘Tell him to return with you, if possible,’ urged Deirdre, ‘for Mama will be coming home soon.’
When Betty had left, Deirdre changed the simple gown she was wearing for one of her best. She went downstairs and sat by the drawing-room window, waiting to see when Lord Harry would arrive.
At last, when she felt she could not bear to wait any longer, a carriage drew up, the door opened and Lord Harry’s tall figure alighted on the pavement.
Deirdre flew into the hall and opened the door herself.
‘Come in quickly,’ she whispered. ‘I do not want the servants to know you are here. Come into the library.’
As she led the way, Deirdre noticed Lord Harry was wearing evening dress and had his chapeau bras tucked under his arm.
She realized she would need to say her piece quickly. He was obviously en route for the opera.
Deirdre lit the fire which had been made up and then turned and faced him.
‘There is something I must know, my lord . . .’ she began.
‘How severe you look. And will you not call me Harry?’
‘Very well . . . Harry. Please sit down.’
He sat down in an armchair and Deirdre sat on a chair facing him on the other side of the fire and studied him intently.
‘Do you love me?’ she asked.
‘With all my heart,’ he answered in his usual light manner.
‘I feel . . . I feel you might have tried to make Papa understand that nothing at all happened between us,’ said Deirdre miserably, all her worries beginning to come out in a rush. ‘And you bit me. And you said you had something to tell me about wickedness, but Papa interrupted us and now I don’t know what to expect, and I am to have this poky, little wedding as if I were in disgrace, and no one but family is to attend.
‘And I am to wear Annabelle’s old wedding gown, and I am frightened.’
She looked at him, trembling a little, waiting for him to answer.
He got up and walked to her, and, with one swift movement, gathered her up in his arms. Then he returned to his chair and arranged her comfortably on his knees.
Deirdre was reminded of the cartoon. ‘And, oh Harry, they have the most awful drawings of us in the print shop,’ she wailed.
‘I will begin at the beginning,’ he said, holding her tightly and giving her a little shake, ‘and you will listen patiently.
‘Now, I saw you nearly two years ago in the Park with your sister, Annabelle. You were laughing and teasing her and I could not rest until I discovered who you were. I found out you were very young. Your sister had just become married to Brabington. I had to go to the wars but somehow I was determined that when I returned, I would seek you out.
‘Shortly after my return your father visited me at White’s. You can imagine my amazement. I was being offered marriage to you. I still thought you too young and thought it disgraceful of your father to push you into an unwanted marriage, and so I amused myself by telling him I didn’t like girls with red hair and I didn’t like clever ones either.
‘I wanted you to fall in love with me, but when you really seemed so frightened and miserable and I had ascertained you no longer had any warm feelings towards Wentwater, I decided to agree to a termination of the engagement and then to wait and hope that you would come to miss me.
‘Imagine my surprise when I found you back in London so soon! I was persuaded you were not indifferent to me. I was afraid you might run away from me again and so I compromised you – with your help, of course, my love. And you are not to have a poky little wedding. Your father will find I have made other arrangements for the wedding breakfast since I have invited all London society from Brummell to the Prince Regent.
‘And the church is to be especially decorated and my army friends will form a guard of honour and society will talk about it for years.’
‘Why didn’t you tell Papa?’
‘I couldn’t be bothered,’ said Lord Harry lazily. ‘I am paying for it, but he would bluster and shout so much before I got a chance to tell him and that does make my head ache.’
Deirdre played shyly with his top waistcoat button. ‘You are so generous, and I am sure I love you, only it is a pity,’ she said in a low voice, ‘that love-making could not be like this . . . just being together and being comfortable.’
‘Oh, it is, most of the time. I am sorry I bit you. I was simply making my mark, you know, like putting a gold mark on things, except I do not yet have gold teeth. You are naturally afraid of the intimacies of marriage. It would be strange if you were not. When I said I had been wicked, I simply meant that I had not told you I had been in love with you for a long time.’
‘Do we . . . do we need to go in for any intimacies right away?’ asked Deirdre. ‘I mean, could we not become better acquainted first?’
‘Of course,’ he said, sinking down into the depths of the chair and arranging her head comfortably on his shoulder. ‘We could sit many evenings just like this. It would not trouble you if I merely kissed you?’
Deirdre shyly shook her head.
He bent his head and kissed her gently. Deirdre felt the stirrings of passion and decided since he had been so generous, it would only be courteous to kiss him back with some of the enthusiasm she felt.
With equal generosity, Lord Harry replied in kind.
Deirdre finally broke free and sat up on his knees and looked down into his blue eyes.
‘I love you Harry,’ she said simply.
He mutely held out his arms and she threw herself against his chest with such force that the chair overbalanced and decanted them both on to the library floor.
And then somehow Deirdre could not seem to stop kissing him, and clothes were becoming an increasing irritation, and when his hand moved down the front of her gown and held one firm breast, it seemed the most natural thing in the world.
Upstairs, Betty waited patiently. The hours passed. The family had long since gone to bed. She had told Lady Sylvester that Deirdre was asleep with the headache and did not want to be disturbed.
She had not taken a footman with her and so she hoped the rest of the servants were not aware of what was going on and that his lordship had had the sense to lock the library door.
At last Betty fell asleep, sitting in a chair beside the fire in Deirdre’s bedroom.
She was awakened at five in the morning by Miss Deirdre Armitage creeping into the room.
Betty struggled out of the chair. ‘Oh, Miss Deirdre,’ she said crossly, ‘you do take advantage of a body’s kindness. Now into bed this minute or I’ll never get you up in time to go to church.’
The wedding was hailed as an outstanding success. People talked for months about the glory of the choir and the beauty of the flower arrangements, of the reception in striped marquees on Islington Fields and of how the Prince Regent himself had put in an appearance and had danced with Deirdre. The vicar, once he got over his first stunned shock at seeing so many fashionable guests, began to fret and gnaw his nails and worry about the cost of everything and say he always knew Desire was an idiot.
When he was told Lord Harry was paying for everything, Mr Armitage’s admiration and gratitude knew no bounds.
‘Arranged marriages are just the thing,’ he told Squire Radford gleefully. ‘If it hadn’t been for all my work, this would never have come about.’
‘Perhaps,’ mused the squire, ‘except I have a feeling Desire tricked us and really meant to marry Deirdre all along.’
‘Not he! Fine fellow, but ain’t got much upstairs.’
‘Deirdre is happy at last,’ said the squire, watching the new Lady Desire’s glowing face. ‘You are a lucky man, Charles. Three daughters wed, and all to men they love.’
‘Aye, and it was
all my doing,’ said the vicar, puffing out his chest. ‘And His Royal Highness here as well. Edwin’s so jealous, he’s near fit to burst.’
The vicar strutted off.
Squire Radford sighed and watched him go. Charles was about to become vain and puffed up again. It was as well Daphne was still young or the vicar would be arranging a marriage for her on the spot, despite his protestations to the contrary.
That young lady was surrounded by a crowd of admirers. She did not do anything to attract them, noticed the squire, but simply stood there, like some beautiful statue.
The squire shook his head. It would not be long before Mr Armitage turned his attention in Daphne’s direction.
The vicar was not the man to let a beautiful daughter lie fallow in Hopeworth when he might be adding another illustrious name to the family tree.
Lady Godolphin waddled up, spilling champagne down the front of her gown.
She looked once more her old self, painted and wigged, and dressed in a frivolous white merino gown with broad scarlet stripes.
My servants had wind o’ Wentwater,’ she said to the squire. ‘Got on a boat bound for the West Indies. We won’t be seeing him again. Bad cess to the man. Never could abide him.’
‘I did not think you had ever met him,’ pointed out the squire.
‘Doesn’t matter,’ sighed Lady Godolphin. ‘Heard enough about him. I ain’t going to have anything to do with men again, Mr Radford. I am going to remain chased the way a woman’s supposed to be. I don’t care whether it’s Mr Armitage, or Desire, or Comfrey, or Brabington, or that fickle, useless Colonel Brian.
‘Men are all just a load of follicles!’
‘Ah, you must not be so bitter,’ said the squire in his kindly way. ‘Our newly-weds are just leaving. Allow me to escort you, Lady Godolphin. It is not every day an old stick like myself can have the pleasure of escorting such a diamond of the first water.’
‘Naughty man!’ murmured Lady Godolphin, ogling him quite awfully, and tapping his hand with her fan.
They walked arm in arm to where Deirdre and Lord Harry were getting into the open carriage that was to carry them off to the new town house Lord Harry had bought as one of his many wedding surprises.
Deirdre stood up and tossed her bouquet into the crowd, and then sank down laughing beside Lord Harry.
‘Who caught it?’ he asked. ‘One of your sisters?’
‘No. I threw it towards Daphne, and it was caught by a young man standing next to her. She held out her hand for it but he was admiring the flowers so much, he didn’t even notice. Poor Daphne. It is the first time she has been so ignored.’
‘Except by me,’ said Lord Harry. ‘I only ever saw you.’
‘Oh, Harry, how beautiful of you to say so . . . Harry! You must not kiss me in an open carriage with everyone looking! Oh, Harry!’
Deirdre and Desire Page 21