Lady Drusilla's Road to Ruin

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Lady Drusilla's Road to Ruin Page 19

by Christine Merrill


  So he took her in his arms, letting the anger and frustration leave him in a kiss that left her breathless with its force. ‘I do not know, darling,’ he said, when it was through. ‘All I know is that I want you, and with all my heart. Despite what you may think, it is not a sign of desperation, or a weakness in my character to do so. If I have a fault, it is that I am prone to aspire far above my station. And now I have set myself the task of winning a woman of great wit and beauty. I will go to your father, whether it is wise or no, and I will ask for your hand. And we shall see what he has to say in the matter.’

  ‘And when he refuses?’

  He looked into her eyes, so that she would know he was serious. ‘Then I suppose it will be up to you what happens next. I do not mean to be parted from you, until you send me away.’

  Chapter Eighteen

  I want you.

  The words were still ringing in her ears as the carriage made its way the last miles of the road to London. The echo of them was almost loud enough to block the continual sighing of her sister, who had grown tired of the journey and was shifting restlessly in her seat and offering meaningless interjections that broke Dru’s train of thought.

  John had been very specific about that. And very insistent. She hid the smile on her face by turning to look out the window.

  ‘I wish you had not come for me, Silly. It would have been better if it had been Father.’

  Dru glared at her. ‘And he would have raised such a fuss that the whole house would have known of your disgrace.’

  Priss sighed. ‘You will manage to hush it up and the whole trip will be for nought. Still, I suppose it is better that you found me when you did. I could not manage to drag my feet any longer. And if we’d have crossed the border, I might have ended up married.’

  ‘I am glad that you are finally coming to your senses,’ Dru said. ‘But you need not worry. Mr Hendricks has got rid of Gervaise and he will never bother you again.’

  ‘Nor I him,’ Priss said emphatically.

  ‘You must not take the blame for this upon yourself,’ Dru said, trying for a change to be a comfort and not a scold. ‘You could not have known, when he took you from the house, what he was planning.’

  Priss laughed. ‘You do not still have some ridiculous idea that he forced me into the carriage, do you? I worried at the poor man for ages to get him this far.’

  Dru could feel the knot of nerves in her head tightening again, as they always did when she tried to reason with her sister. ‘Did you not realise what such a decision could do to your reputation?’

  ‘Destroy it utterly, I should think. Of course, if I had been forced to marry him, it would have been better in one sense. I would have been off the market and totally forgotten.’ But she gave a little shudder as though there was nothing to like at all about the idea of wedded life with Gervaise. Then she brightened. ‘Now I shall simply be thought loose.’

  ‘You foolish girl,’ Dru exploded. ‘Marriage to Gervaise would have meant penury, isolation, hardship. You cannot think that Father would condone such a union, nor contribute in any way to your well-being if you made the match.’

  Priss gave her a weary look. ‘I suspected he would first try to undo it. And if he was not able, he’d have cut me off. But that was the only way I was likely to escape.’

  ‘Escape? Whatever do you mean? You have everything you need, Priscilla, and have not known a moment’s strife since the day you were born.’

  ‘Nor have I known a moment’s freedom,’ her sister pointed out, and there was the smallest of frowns on her pretty face as she did it. ‘You are wrong to think I can destroy my reputation over something so small as this.’

  ‘I know you will not,’ Dru said, with some bitterness. ‘Because when we are properly home and Father is finished shouting, we will find a way to make it disappear.’

  Priss gave her a strange smile. ‘I hope not. Perhaps I am beyond redemption. Then we shall be spinsters and grow old together. Will that not be nice?’

  Dru thought of Mr Hendricks and blurted, ‘It most certainly will not.’

  And she was surprised to see Priss falter. For a moment, there was a sparkle in her eyes that looked almost like the beginning of tears. Then her little sister regained control and smiled again. ‘Well, never mind. You needn’t worry that I will be a burden on you much longer. Father will pave it over, as smooth as glass. And when he has selected a husband for me, I will marry, and that will be that.’ She sighed again. ‘In the meantime, I suppose there shall be parties and picnics full of men to flirt with. And that will be some consolation.’

  ‘When Father hears of what you have done, you will be lucky if he does not send you straight back to Scotland for an extended period of rustication.’

  Priss looked at her speculatively. ‘And you must come along with me. That might work well for one of us, now that I think of it.’

  ‘I don’t know what you mean.’ But there had been that sudden, unavoidable image of making her own trip to Gretna Green.

  ‘Of course you don’t, Silly.’ Priss rolled her eyes. ‘But even if we are sent from town, within a year I shall be right back to London and married to the man of our father’s choosing. It will be the sort of man who values the good opinion of Benbridge over mine, and is willing to overlook my unfortunate past. He will be more concerned with the advancement he might gain than the foolishness of his wife.’

  ‘No matter who you marry, you will never know want,’ Dru insisted. ‘And it is not as if Father is likely to choose a cruel man to wed you.’

  Priscilla laughed again. ‘After three days with Gervaise?’ She gave a little shudder of disgust. ‘I think my only want is to remain unwed. And I shall be experiencing a permanent want of that shortly. As to whether or not my husband will be cruel? I doubt it matters one way or the other to Father. My husband will be rich and politically well placed.’ She gave the coldest smile Dru had ever seen on that sweet face. ‘But he is unlikely to be the heir to a dukedom, now that I have sullied myself. Father will have to settle for a second son, or perhaps an inferior.’ She gave a short laugh. ‘God forbid that he find nothing better than a baronet for me.’

  Dru’s already short temper snapped. ‘And God forbid that you should settle for the man offered, when he will at least take the time to find you someone. There are others in the family that have even less freedom than you, and are just as unlikely to ever see a Season. Nor will we marry the man of our choosing.’

  ‘Mr Hendricks,’ Priss said with finality. ‘Say the name, Silly. We are in the privacy of the carriage, with no one else to hear. You can admit to me that he is the one you want.’

  ‘I…I have no idea what you are talking about,’ Dru faltered.

  Her sister gave her a sly smile. ‘Mr Hendricks. Do not pretend that you have not thought of marriage with him. The man has been bedding you from London to Gretna and back. Oh, do not give me that look, Silly. I may be a sound sleeper, but not so sound as all that. I heard you creeping down the hall this morning, on your way back to your room. And I saw the look on your face when I kissed him. And his as well. He looked, for all the world, as though he had sucked a lemon.’ She smiled. ‘You need not worry. I have no intention of saying a word to anyone on the subject. And I applaud you for your good sense in this matter, taking advantage of my misbehaviour to have a little of your own for a change.’

  ‘I did nothing of the kind,’ Dru said, stomach roiling at the betrayal. It would be good, even for a moment, to tell someone the truth. To ask advice. Or to share the joy of it. But if she wished to defend her sister’s honour, she could hardly admit to the cracks in her own.

  Priss sighed again, sounding weary beyond her years. ‘It would be easier between us if you trusted me, Silly. Just a little. Then we could talk as sisters, and it might not seem so�
��’

  Priss was looking at her, as though waiting for some sign that she might lower her defences. It hurt to stay silent, almost as much as it had to lie about her feelings for John. But she had decided years ago that Priss needed a mother more than a sister. It was too late to retreat. And so she said nothing, giving her dear little sister the same stern look as she always did.

  And Priss broke her gaze, staring in defeat at the floor of the carriage. ‘Very well, then, Silly. Nothing has happened to either of us on this trip. We will remain in London, stifling in the heat. I will say nothing of the truth. Nor will you. Papa is likely to be very cross with you, for letting me run about so.’

  And then Priss looked her in the eye, and her gaze was, for want of a better word, knowing. Now that Dru had experienced love herself, there was no missing the fact that Priss was as knowledgeable as she. ‘And we both know he does not wish to know the answers to the questions he is most likely to ask. We will go home and live in silence and denial, just as we always have, until Father chooses an appropriate husband for me. Perhaps then I shall have you stay with me, to keep me company. You will have more freedom in my house than you will in his.’ Priss thought for a moment. ‘Considering the sort of man that Father is likely to pick, it would be quite useful to have someone to explain where I have got to, when I choose to be somewhere other than where I am expected.’

  ‘You are planning alibis for your infidelities, even before you know the identity of your husband.’

  Priss gave her a blank stare. ‘It is better to be sensible and prepared, Silly. Have you not taught me that?’

  ‘But that is not what I meant at all.’

  Priss stared at her, as though she could not believe her sister’s stupidity. ‘Then you have been using your considerable organisational talents to no purpose. Our lives as I have described them are just as they are. Father means for me to be married. And for you? I doubt he thinks of it at all. I am his favourite. We both know it, although you will not admit it to yourself. With Mother gone, it has been your job to watch over me. Where I go, you will follow. Or you can stay in Father’s house, play hostess and housekeeper, and grow old while he dangles the possibility of marriage until even you see how laughable it is.’

  ‘No.’ She was beyond speech now, beyond thought. With only that cold and very real future stretching before her.

  Priss squeezed her hand, and said softly, ‘It was not just my childish inability with Drusilla that lead me to call you Silly. You really are the most foolish girl. But it is all right, darling Dru. I will take care of you. If I can, I will force my husband to hire your Mr Hendricks. Then you shall visit me whenever you like.’

  So that was to be the plan of the rest of her life: she was to be guardian of her sister’s fragile reputation. And since Priss had no care for it herself, she was to be little better than an abbess, arranging liaisons, and making sure that the truth did not become too well known.

  She looked back at Priss, disheartened. ‘It was not until just now that I realised how aptly you have named me, Priss. I would need to be quite silly, to have such a life.’

  She glanced out the window again, her fingers clasping the edge of the frame and praying for even a glimpse of John Hendricks.

  And as though he could sense her desire, he rode even with the window and smiled in at her. Then he signalled to the driver to stop. It was not yet luncheon, and they hardly had need of it, for they had been on the road for only a few hours.

  But Priss accepted it eagerly, and was out of the carriage as soon as the steps were down, as though she could not wait to be away from her sister. After the conversation they’d shared, Dru felt uneasy as well, and was glad for a respite.

  And John came to her in the only way he could. He was polite, formal and distant, as though there was nothing more important between them than to discuss the condition of the roads. ‘Lady Drusilla?’

  ‘Yes, Mr Hendricks.’ She waited until she was sure her sister was out of sight, and the grooms and coachmen were busy with the horses. Then, very deliberately, she smiled at him.

  John returned her smile, looking more like a shy lover than a servant. He took a moment to fiddle with his spectacles, composing himself, until he was simply Mr Hendricks again. ‘How is your sister faring, on the return?’

  ‘She is resigned to it, I think.’ Dru frowned. ‘And less than happy with her lot in life. But there is very little I can do for her, in that respect.’

  ‘Now that I am sure you are safely on your way, I will leave you to find your own way home.’

  ‘No!’ There was nothing proper or composed about her response. The single word came, so sudden and anguished, that the servants looked up, ready to come to her aid. Even Priss turned back to see what the matter was.

  ‘It is all right,’ John said back in his composed servant’s voice. ‘We will not be parted for long. Only a day or two. And I have a reason for it. If I am to see your father, I do not wish to arrive along with you, half-shaved and covered with muck. I am going on ahead to prepare myself for the visit, and to prepare the way for you, as well. It might be easier for you if I explain what has happened before you arrive.’

  ‘And what, precisely, do you mean to say, Mr Hendricks?’ Priss had returned to them, and was standing a little way away, looking daggers at him.

  He looked back, bland, innocent and, as always, helpful. ‘That I am unsure of the reasons for your departure. But that I happened to meet Lady Drusilla while travelling, and she was most distressed. I found you in the company of a Mr Gervaise, who was a base and unworthy fellow. I gave him a sound thrashing and made sure that he would bother you no further. Then I aided you in returning home. You are both shaken by the experience, but in good health. Does this meet with your satisfaction?’

  ‘Well enough,’ said Priss. ‘It will cause the least trouble for Silly, at any rate.’

  ‘But you will visit, when we have returned?’ If nothing else, he could say goodbye. If Father sent him away, she was entitled to one last kiss.

  ‘Of course I will visit. As soon after your arrival as is decent.’

  Priss laughed. ‘It does me good, Silly, to see you in such a state. With me, you act as though you are made of granite. But at the brief loss of Mr Hendricks, you are very nearly wringing your hands.’

  ‘I am not,’ Dru said defensively, knowing that she was. A day without him would seem like for ever.

  ‘You have done her good, Mr Hendricks. In a week, you have made her human. Now kiss her and go.’

  ‘Priscilla.’ Dru barely had time to begin her outraged harangue, before he’d responded,

  ‘As you wish, Lady Priscilla.’

  And he seized her, quite capably, and pulled her off balance and into his arms. The kiss was the best one he had given her, deep and slow to make his claim on her in front of sister and servants and anyone else who might see it.

  Dru flapped her hands in protest for a moment, before deciding that to struggle would be to waste an opportunity. So she stretched out her arms around his neck and kissed him back until she heard her wayward sister say, ‘Really, Mr Hendricks. That is quite enough to prove your point.’

  Then she felt Priss tugging her away and upright again. ‘And you, Drusilla. You are near to eating the man alive on a public highway and making us all nauseous. There will be time enough for that later, when you are alone.’

  ‘She is right, Dru.’ John was straightening his coat and looking at her with a polite smile. ‘Let me go and talk to your father. I will see you again, after.’

  ‘After,’ she said, holding on to the word and managing a wave of farewell. No matter what happened with her father, she would see him again, even if it was only to say goodbye.

  Chapter Nineteen

  John removed his hat and waited in the entry of
the Folbroke town house for the butler to announce him. It was strange, after little more than a week, to be actively seeking the company of the very people he had run from. But in those few days much had changed, and he needed the advice of a friend. Now that he was not in the service of the Earl of Folbroke, he could think of no one in his life that better fit the position.

  This particular house had been shut for so much of his tenure with the family that he hardly remembered it. On the few occasions he’d had to visit it, the Holland covers had been on what furniture remained, and the rooms eerily silent. It was quite different from Adrian’s old digs, which were barely large enough for a bachelor and a small staff. They had been sufficient for the earl’s reclusion from his wife, but unsuitable for a happily married man.

  John smiled at the thought of Adrian’s sudden eagerness to indulge his wife and probed his own heart for any hint of jealousy. He was relieved to find none. The care of Emily had been his sole concern for years. The idea that she somehow belonged to him had come on him slowly. But the madness had left quickly enough, when it was clear that she’d returned to her husband.

  The reconciliation between husband and wife appeared to be a permanent thing, if Emily was setting up the London house, just as it always should have been. From his position in the foyer, John could see a steady stream of furniture going in and out of attics and box rooms. And he was sure that when Emily was happy with it, the composition would be both fashionable and easy for her husband to navigate.

  From a door on his left, there came the familiar tap of the cane, and the call, ‘Mr Hendricks. Back already? Do not hang about in the doorway, waiting for an invitation. My study is just to one side of the stairs. It is the only peace you will find in this house, until my wife is done arranging the chairs.’

  He smiled in spite of himself, for as it always had, the ‘Mistuh’ before his name had the sharp call of a commander, and a tone that could cut through the chaos of a battlefield. ‘Yes, my lord.’

 

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