'Would he bring Albinia and Harry to town?' Joanna asked. 'They could stay here.'
'Albinia would not come, or permit Harry to do so. In his last letter to me Henry said she believes Napoleon will soon be invading England, and she wishes to travel north, to go her sister, who lives in Scotland. Why she would feel safer there I cannot tell!'
Joanna tried to suppress her giggles.
'It's too ridiculous! The Duke has never lost a battle,' she said.
'He and Napoleon have never met before. But an invasion of England is hardly likely. However, enough of this gloomy talk. Are we not going to the theatre tomorrow?'
'Yes, Elizabeth has invited us to share her box. She has asked Lord Thornton, who is becoming very attentive to Charlotte, and she did not wish her invitation to him to appear too particular.'
Sir Kenelm laughed. 'Elizabeth is becoming almost as skilled as my mother was in finding eligible suitors for her daughters.'
For her sons, as well as her daughters, he thought. It had been his mother who had first introduced him to Maria, and promoted the match. Not that he had been reluctant, he hastened to remind himself. Maria had been courted by several men, some wealthier and with grander titles than his own, and he had been complacent when she had showed her preference for him.
He forced himself to change the subject, asking Joanna how she had spent the day, and proposing plans for the next few weeks.
*
Joanna had never been to the theatre, and was fascinated, watching the people in other boxes, or the pit, and thoroughly enjoying the novelty of seeing the actors performing. She had seen less of Elizabeth than of Sophia, for Elizabeth's main preoccupation was with her daughter's come out, but the older woman had been friendly, and Charlotte was a pretty, modest girl who, Joanna suspected, was a little overwhelmed with her first experience of the London Season.
She was looking tired and confessed to Joanna that she could not become accustomed to staying up till dawn at the balls she went to, and then sleeping half the day.
'The traffic is so noisy I wake up after a few hours, and then cannot sleep again.'
Joanna's opinion was that she needed a few weeks of quiet in the country to restore her youthful looks, but she understood that Elizabeth dared not take Charlotte away from London until she had secured the anticipated offer from Lord Thornton. She hoped the eligible peer would soon make up his mind, and seeing the fond glances he gave Charlotte decided he would speak soon. Then Elizabeth and the child could relax.
When, during the first interval, their box was invaded by two young men with collars so stiff and high they could barely turn their heads, who lavished compliments on Charlotte, and Joanna happened to see the rather annoyed look on Lord Thornton's face, she became hopeful. It was clearly jealousy.
Sir Kenelm stood up and suggested to Joanna they walked outside the box, which was becoming somewhat crowded. She readily agreed, and as soon as they were outside she broke into giggles.
'They are like very polite dogs eyeing a bone before they pounce,' she explained, and Sir Kenelm laughed, tucking her hand into his arm as they promenaded amongst many other couples.
'Thornton would be a good match. He's only five and twenty, has a respectable income, and lives not too far from Elizabeth's home, so Charlotte could see her family often. Does she favour him?'
'Yes, I'm sure she does. She blushes when he speaks to her, and when I have called on Elizabeth with Sophia, we have found him there more than once. I am thankful, though, I never had to endure such a Season! The child is weary, she has to attend balls and parties every night, and be shown in the Park, or making calls or going to breakfasts or picnics.'
'Do you find town life wearisome?'
'I do not have to be on show perpetually like Charlotte. No, I am enjoying myself, there is so much that is new, and still so much to see, but I will not be sorry to return to Yorkshire.'
'Would you like to return now?'
'On my own, do you mean?'
Was he eager to be rid of her? Joanna's heart gave an uncomfortable jolt at the very thought.
'Of course not! I would come with you.'
She could not have accepted that generosity even if she had wished to go home.
'That is not a possibility. I prefer to stay here, and you need to remain, and surely there will be some movement soon? Napoleon will not be content to reign only in Paris, he will wish to start regaining his empire.'
'I still hope the situation on the continent will soon be resolved, and we can go home.'
Rock Castle was home to her now, Joanna thought. She smiled up at Sir Kenelm, to find his attention fixed on something in front of them, and his expression was grim. She swung round to see what he was looking at, and saw, coming towards them and smiling, Selina Kirk.
The woman was on the arm of a portly, elderly man. Joanna had never met him, and even to her inexperienced eyes he did not look fashionable. His dress was far from modish, his coat of an unusually bright blue strained across his chest and his pantaloons clung so tightly to his fat thighs it seemed clear he had recently put on weight. He wore a collection of fobs and several rings, and his waistcoat was multi-coloured, not the usual discreet white. His neckcloth was creased, as though he had given up trying to arrange it in any particular style, and his cheeks were flushed.
As for Selina, she dazzled. Her gown was of shimmering pink satin, lavishly adorned with deeper pink bows and flounces, cut far too low and revealing too much of her ample bosom, on which rested a flamboyant diamond necklace. She simpered, there was no other word for it, Joanna thought, as she fluttered her hand at Sir Kenelm, and the diamonds on her fingers glittered. Her blonde hair was dressed to reveal long diamond eardrops.
'Why, Sir Kenelm, how unexpected it is to see you in London! I quite thought you were fixed at your Castle with your new wife. This is Lady Childe, is it not?' she added, glancing for a moment at Joanna. 'I confess, I saw so little of her the one time we met I could not be sure.'
'Sir, Mrs Kirk,' Sir Kenelm said. 'I was unaware you came to London. Forgive us, we must be getting back to the box.'
'Oh, I often come to London, to meet old friends. Leeds can be so odiously tedious. We must not keep you, though, and I look forward to your calling on me some day in Bedford Square.'
Sir Kenelm did not speak as they retraced their steps. The second act was beginning, and at the next interval Sir Kenelm excused himself and left the box on his own. Joanna had been unable to concentrate on the play, and was thankful she did not have to make conversation with him. Had he known his former mistress would be in London? Was she his former, or present mistress? It was clear he knew where she lived, as Mrs Kirk had omitted to give any precise direction. Had he been a visitor there at other times, those occasions when he came to London on his own? Did he, and the thought caused her so much anguish she had to close her eyes and breathe deeply in order not to break into tears, visit her on some of the evenings he claimed he spent at White's?
Joanna knew very little about London, but she had heard that Bedford Square was where wealthy City merchants lived, not members of the ton. Was it also where wealthy men installed their mistresses?
She could not object. It was part of their arrangement that he was free to take a mistress. Indeed, he had told her he possessed one when he had proposed their unconventional marriage. She had known all along, and she thought that if she had not met the woman, and if Mrs Kirk had not shown such an air of triumph, it would have been less painful. That it was painful she had to admit. She had not expected him to love her, and as she had accepted her own growing love for him, she had told herself she could endure the fact he did not love her so long as she could live with him. Now she began to wonder if, in fact, she could go on living a life which was no more than a sham, a lie.
As they were driven home neither Sir Kenelm nor Joanna spoke more than to comment briefly on the play. The moment they entered the house Joanna complained she had the headache, and despising he
rself for making such a feeble excuse, said she meant to go straight to bed. The supposed headache served to satisfy Betsy when she commented on Joanna's pallor, and when Joanna told her not to wake her in the morning, she would ring when she woke, all she did was nod and quietly leave the room.
*
When Joanna, after a sleepless night, rose the following morning she found Sir Kenelm had left the house hours ago. She drank some coffee and forced herself to eat a roll, but waved away offers of anything more substantial.
The memory of the rumours Mrs Bloom had mentioned at Sophia's first dinner party began to haunt her. What were they? Had they any connection with Selina Kirk? Had Sir Kenelm's association with her gone back so far?
She decided to ask Sophia, and taking Betsy with her walked round to Sophia's house in South Audley Street. Sophia took one look at her and sent Betsy to the servants' quarters, then whisked Joanna up to her bedroom.
'We'll be quite private here,' she said, thrusting Joanna into a chair beside the window and seating herself opposite. 'What in the world has happened? Why do you look so ill? It isn't Matthew, is it? There hasn't been any fighting yet.'
Joanna shook her head.
'We've had no news from Brussels. I'm sorry, Sophia, but I have to know, and perhaps you can tell me. I can't ask Sir Kenelm.'
'Tell you what, my dear?'
'Mrs Bloom, when we met her here, mentioned rumours concerning Sir Kenelm and Maria. Please, Sophia, tell me what they were? Had they aught to do with Selina Kirk?'
'Selina Kirk? Who is she?'
So his sister didn't know of his mistress? He must have been very discreet, especially if he had been in the habit of meeting her in London. She suspected the woman was not one who would be content to live quietly, waiting for the visits of her lover. At the very least she would want to be driven by him in the Park. Joanna felt a little happier. If he had been discreet when he had no wife, he would be more so now, surely?
'Oh, she's not important, it's just that we met her at the theatre last night, and something she said reminded me I had intended to ask you what Mrs Bloom meant that evening.'
Sophia frowned. 'It was a vicious rumour, without any foundation, but spread by a maid Maria had brought with her when she married Kenelm. He dismissed her soon after Maria died, and I suppose she resented it. But without a mistress, what else could she expect? A superior dresser, as she called herself, would not appreciate being asked to become a housemaid.'
Joanna smiled, but it was not her usual cheerful smile.
'What did she say?'
'You know what Maria was like, do you?'
'Sir Kenelm was quite open with me, he told me how she so often betrayed him.'
'Which made him very reluctant to marry again, until he met you, Joanna, and fell in love with you.'
Joanna shook her head. She could not tell Sophia the true reason for her marriage, or that it was no real marriage.
'What was the rumour?' she asked.
Sophia sighed. 'I thought it had all been forgot, but since that gabble monger Jennifer Bloom mentioned it, you have a right to know. You can't ask Kenelm?' she added hopefully.
'No. I cannot speak to him of such.'
Joanna was uncompromising and Sophia nodded in sympathy.
'I understand. I would not wish to talk of difficult things with Peter. Well, I'd better tell you the whole. You know Maria died having the twins?'
Joanna nodded.
'She was furiously angry at being pregnant. Kenelm had taken her to Yorkshire when he could no longer endure the scandals she was creating in London, but she always believed she could persuade him to bring her here for the Season. Then her pregnancy made that impossible, for she ailed throughout. I will always believe she made herself ill through her intemperate behaviour.'
Joanna almost felt sorry for the woman. Sophia sighed and went on.
'She wanted to travel to London for the birth, claimed none of the local doctors or midwives were sufficiently skilled to treat her. What she meant, of course, was that they took no notice of her tantrums. They all said the journey would be dangerous for her, with the inevitable jolting, and Kenelm refused to permit her to go. He caught her, one night, leaving the Castle, and found one of her lovers waiting for her in a post chaise.'
'She was still betraying him, even then?' Joanna asked, shocked. 'How could any woman behave so?'
'Nothing was too outrageous for Maria. Kenelm carried her back to her room, and she was hysterical, struggling and accusing him of wanting to kill her. It can't have helped, but she went into labour two days later. It was a difficult birth, and neither the doctor Kenelm called, nor the local midwife, could stop the bleeding. She died the following day, still accusing Kenelm of wanting her dead. It's true the twins were born a month early, but I believe that is often so with twins.'
Joanna nodded. 'I knew a woman in the Peninsula, a soldier's wife, who had twins much earlier than they should have been born. They were so very tiny they both died.'
Sophia nodded. 'It's thanks to that doctor they both survived. However, the maid claimed Sir Kenelm ill-treated her when he dragged her back into the Castle, and that caused her to go into labour early, and also caused her death.'
'That was wicked!'
'Very, but how could it be disproved? Kenelm would not permit the truth, Maria's attempted elopement, to be mentioned. Despite everything, he treated her memory honourably.'
Joanna sat, silently thinking of what Sophia had told her. It did not seem as though Selina Kirk had been in any way involved. No doubt Sir Kenelm had taken up with her later, and unless she asked him, which was clearly impossible for her to do, she would never discover the truth of his entanglement with her. He had said he had finished with the woman, but had he? Surely she could believe him? Yet the memory of Selina's triumphant smile the previous night remained with her. If she was not Sir Kenelm's mistress at the moment, Joanna felt sure she was expecting to recapture him very soon.
'Thank you,' she said. 'I am grateful to you for being so frank with me. You understand I could never ask Sir Kenelm about this?'
'Of course I understand. Now, come and have a nuncheon with me, and a glass of wine. You look pale, and it will help.'
*
Somehow Joanna smiled and laughed for the rest of that day. She had forgotten it was the day Sir Kenelm was to take the children to Astley's Amphitheatre, but as soon as she returned from seeing Sophia she met George and Amelia in the hall, for they had just returned from walking in the Park.
She wanted to retreat to her bed, and cry off from the visit, for by now she had a genuine, throbbing headache, but she forced herself to sound cheerful as the children chattered about the treat in store for them.
Brigid eyed Joanna closely, and told the children not to be so noisy. As she took them upstairs she looked back at Joanna, and suggested she went to lie down with a handkerchief soaked in lavender water on her forehead.
'See to it, Betsy, and don't permit Lady Childe to get up until it is time to dress.'
Joanna was thankful to obey, and when Betsy pulled the blinds closed, she sank back onto the pillows. She did not expect to sleep, but was woken two hours later, grateful for the tea and cakes Betsy brought her, and with her headache a mere shadow of what it had been, declared she was quite recovered and looking forward to seeing all the trick riding, the clowns and acrobats and other marvels she had heard about.
They crossed the river by boat, another unexpected excitement for the twins, and were soon seated in a box in the great Amphitheatre. The circular stage, Sir Kenelm was explaining to the children, allowed the audience to see the performers all the time, which had not been possible in the earlier days before Philip Astley devised his spectacle and the performers had ridden in straight lines, similar to racing.
'Is Mr Astley to perform?' George asked.
'No, I'm afraid not. He died last year, in Paris,' Sir Kenelm told him. 'He has left a wonderful legacy, though, and other men are i
mitating him and opening rival attractions.'
The twins were spellbound, watching everything with great attention, laughing at the antics of the clowns, and arguing about their ability to copy some of the tricks both of the acrobats and the riders. Joanna was thankful they did not have their ponies here in London, and would not be demonstrating in the Park. Amelia was fully capable of trying to ride her pony while standing on its back, and placid though it always seemed, she did not think it would tolerate being used as a circus pony.
They had supper afterwards, and then, very late for the children, went back home. Joanna's headache had returned with the noise of the circus, and the constant chatter of the twins, and she was looking forward to her bed. As Brigid ushered the twins upstairs, and Joanna prepared to wish Sir Kenelm goodnight, the door of the library opened and Henry stepped into the hall.
'Henry! When did you arrive?' Sir Kenelm asked.
'Soon after you had left,' Henry said.
'They have looked after you? Fed you?'
Henry shook his head. 'Oh, I've been given a room, yes, your servants are always most efficient, but I went to dine at White's. There's a rumour Napoleon has left Paris, and no doubt he's already at the border. There will be either a battle or a rout within days. It may already have taken place.'
*
Chapter 14
'I mean to visit the War Office,' Henry said at breakfast the following morning. 'I know a couple of the fellows there, was up at Oxford with them. Then I'll go along to White's, see what people there think.'
'I'll probably meet you there,' Sir Kenelm said. 'I mean to visit a couple of old friends first, to get their views on the rumours. Then,' he added, casting a worried glance at Joanna, 'I intend taking Joanna for an airing in the Park.'
She was looking pale, and had a crease between her eyes. Yesterday she had made a valiant attempt to behave normally, laughing and teasing the twins, talking brightly to him, smiling cheerfully, but he had discerned the effort behind it. She said when he challenged her she had been suffering from a slight headache all that day, and the visit to Astley's had made it worse, but this was so unlike her he was concerned. How he wanted to take her in his arms and comfort her, but that stupid condition he had imposed on their marriage prevented him. It would, he knew, be considered by her an intrusion, a breaking of their compact.
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