'I still have not heard it, Antoine,' Ianthe said. 'What I came for.'
'I am sorry I loved you too much,' He said, looking deep into her eyes.
She took a step back, raising her head. 'That will not do.'
'I am sorry, Ianthe,’ his voice was broken, but still the deep thrilling voice that had troubled her young dreams. ‘Sorry that I deceived and hurt you. I meant to make it all up to you — and to Cherie, if only you had married me.'
'Thank you, Antoine. Thank you for loving me, even if it was in a way that I cannot respect.' She looked at him, her eyes filling, but her voice sardonic. 'I hope you do not lose your handsome head over this.'
He shrugged, with his old raffish air. Then he said, more seriously, 'Goodbye, Ianthe.'
She had gone to the chamber door, but turned to him. 'Papa and Cherie. They were always married.'
Antoine, whose eyes had filled once she’d turned from him, gave a crack of laughter at this. 'Mrs Eames! Send her my … send her my apologies, and my wish for her good health.'
'Goodbye, Antoine.'
'Take this,' he held out his hand and from it dropped the amber pendant.
'Papa's gift to me.' Ianthe reached for it. 'You kept it back because—'
He shrugged in that French manner. 'Another excuse to see you.' Their eyes caught, and despite herself Ianthe's filled. 'Will you be with him? The man who came in with you and looked like he would have liked to kill me?'
'If he ever understands …' She smiled at the comte a little. '… he is new to understanding things.'
They exchanged a warm look. ‘I’ll ask Mr Fenton, Antoine. Ask him to arrange things.’
‘If I could escape—’ Antoine was suddenly energised.
‘Then we can trust in your wits.’ She searched her reticule, pulling out a purse. ‘Conceal this. It is not much.’
He took it, kissing her gloved hand with fervour, and she pulled away, laughing. ‘Farewell, my old friend,’ she said, and left.
***
The journey back in the gig tasked Ianthe's patience. She was imagining telling Fox what she had just done for Antoine, about what she hoped Fenton would do for him, knowing that the baron could never understand it. He had never lived as she had, running from discovery all her life, taking outrageous risks to achieve one’s aim. She believed Fenton understood her and would help see that Antoine never reached Paris and his judgement. Fox’s voice interrupted her reverie.
'What did you mean that your confusion about the comte lifted when you came to Studham?'
'Never mind that now … I am sad. Everything Antoine did with the Bonapartists he did thinking that it could never succeed. That he was simply relieving mad men of their money. And taking my money was never meant to be serious. That is why he gave the jewels back. He just wanted—'
'To have you need him.' Fox paused. 'As Fenton said, he must never have been secure of you.'
'No, I suppose not. And I thought it was I who was never secure about him.'
'Is it finished, the remnants of that first love?'
'If you do not listen to what I have already told you,' Ianthe said, annoyed, 'I shall simply stop speaking.' She closed her eyes. 'I have the headache. Tell me when we reach home.'
***
Curtis had been summoned to his mother's room, where Her Ladyship lay prone on a chaise longue; Evans hovered nearby with her vinaigrette. He mentally balked at the door, but entered like a man, attempting cheerfulness.
'Laid up, Mama?’ he asked hopefully. ‘No need to talk now, I'll let you rest.'
'Curtis! You will come here.'
'Yes, Mama.'
'What did you say about removing to Broadbank? I was never more dumbfounded. Only a few days away and then to come back ready to leave your only home. And me? You would abandon your mama so easily?'
'I told you already that I wish to take you with me, Mama,' Curtis said. 'You must remember that.'
'But you are the heir to Studham! This is your home.'
'That is where we both went wrong, Mama. It was always Edward's.'
'I have never been deficient in my respect for Fox as master here,' sniffed his mother, head held high, 'but he will never marry, he—'
'I think he will marry one day, Mama. I mean, why ever should he not?’ said Curtis reasonably. ‘He's got a temper, but I think the ladies find him handsome,' considered Curtis, surprised. 'But as Fox said to me, even if he did not marry, I will likely be a very old man before Studham became mine.'
'So, this is Fox's doing? Making you feel unwanted in your own—'
'No, Mama!' exclaimed her son quietly, and with a new maturity she had not seen in him previously. 'He just wanted me to consider if I would rather be master on my own place, and he was quite right. I was too young to appreciate it before, Mama, but a man needs to be independent. Papa left me the means to do so, and I intend to make better use of it. Gibley and I were talking, you know, and it is very likely that I can increase the estate profits in a very few years. Enough for both of us, Mama, to live extremely comfortably. And there is a neighbouring estate that might …' Curtis smiled, '… but it is too soon to talk of that. Think of it, Mama. I would be settled. I know you worried about my excesses, though you have always defended me like a champion, saying that a young man must be free to have some. And you were right, Mama. I have been too idle, that is it. Just a short time at Broadbank and I understand what it is to have a rewarding occupation. It is very exciting. You will like the house, Mama. You can help me arrange things. It is very invigorating to be the man whom the staff look to please, you know. You will like to see it, rather than me being someone who is always second in line. Whose orders must be checked with the master, even though Jenkins does not say so.'
It was a long speech, and Her Ladyship had tried to interrupt a number of times by making a sound, but Curtis had sat on the edge of the bed, and looked at her with concerned eyes, alternating with boyish enthusiasm. He held her hand and his mother said, eventually, 'Have you been so very unhappy here, Curtis?'
'Not unhappy. But I think I can be much happier at Broadbank.'
Lady Fox sighed in defeat. 'I will consider it, my son. Because you wish it. And because all my felicity in life has been stolen since that girl arrived. I cannot understand it. The house is constantly full of people. Audley comes and goes as he wants. Fox entertains her friends the Fentons as though he had known them forever. The Richards have both become ungovernable and Fox unrecognisable. She is a wicked, wicked girl.'
'Miss Eames?' Curtis asked. 'I think she's just a little French, you know.'
He patted his mother's hand, soothingly.
She removed hers from his, reaching blindly for the vinaigrette. It was as near to a complaint as she could muster.
Chaptr Thirty-One
Dinner and Wooing
Ianthe entered Sally's chamber when she returned. 'Fox is as stupid as Audley,' she announced.
'I thought you went to see the wicked comte?'
'I did. And he's stupid, too.' Ianthe sighed. 'He is not really wicked, though. I must see Mr Fenton before dinner to imagine what might be done for Antoine.'
'Surely nothing can be if he acted against the King.'
'It will appear so, but actually …' Ianthe looked worried. 'But Mr Fenton will know what to do.'
'You seem to have a great deal of faith in Mr Fenton.'
'I do. Do you know that when Antoine took me to the clearing where he had hidden his carriage, that I was not alone? That little man from today, Mr Mosely, was there, behind the shrubbery. He showed himself to me, and the pistol in his hands.'
'Were you not even more afraid?' said Sally, comfortably shocked.
'No. He winked at me!'
'I'm sure that would have made me shudder.'
'Somehow it did not. Antoine did not coerce me, but I was safe in the knowledge that he could not.'
'And you believed that the little man was from Mr Fenton?'
'He or Fox. But I
thought afterwards that if he were Fox's man, he would more likely be a servant that I would recognise.'
'True. How swift you are in thinking.' Sally regarded her friend whose beautiful dark eyes looked even darker. 'But how is Fox stupid?' She giggled. 'I agree of course, but what has he done to convince you of it on this occasion?'
'You heard us in the drawing room. I told him he did not like me.'
'You did.'
'And he did not deny it!'
'Yes, an idiot,' agreed Sally.
'And I told him I might marry Antoine—'
'Well,' said Sally, as though to be fair, 'he did forbid you that — most forcibly.' Sally lowered her voice and took on a terrible frown. 'You shall not marry that French fop!' she quoted.
'But he did not say why I could not marry him,' said Ianthe resentfully. 'And then, when we were alone on the way to the inn, I even told him that as soon as I had come to Studham, all my confusion about Antoine disappeared.'
'And he still did not say anything to the point?' said Sally, aggrieved. 'You are quite right — men are ridiculously stupid. They only call you their lovely, lovely and then do not finish at all.'
'We shall defeat them, Sally! We shall crush them beneath our satin slippers and make them pay!' Ianthe vowed.
***
Mr Wilbert Fenton was the only resident in the salon when Audley was announced.
'You here?' asked Fenton redundantly.
'For dinner.'
'So early?'
'I hoped I might get a chance for a word with…' He sighed, admitting defeat. 'I made another mull of it. I do not know what comes over me when I am with her, I cannot string sensible words together. I need to apologise. Again.'
'Oh yes? Still determined on your life as a hellion?'
'It is not that, precisely. You know, Fenton. Once a libertine always … I could decide on a different life, but what if I failed? What if I were to hurt her?'
'It seems you have done so already. She looked like someone who had spent the day crying.'
'Better a day than a lifetime.'
'So, you come to bother her again?' Fenton laughed.
'I will be gone tomorrow. I just wanted to say…'
'Don't lie to yourself, Rob. You cannot keep away. Even if you go tomorrow, you will find her again. Bother her again.'
'I cannot. I will not.' Said Audley, desperately.
Fenton crossed his legs and looked at his friend, amused. 'So, you return to your days as a libertine once more. I saw you go to the dogs with a greater will than ever this time in London. Did you enjoy it, Audley? Any of it?'
'It is who I am accustomed to be. Even if now…'
'Do not be mistaken, my friend. Your vices? It is not that you must decide to leave your vices behind. They have already left you.' Audley stood regarding him, shaken. Fenton sipped his wine and then looked down at the glass, long fingers playing with the stem. 'Once you get a taste of the real thing, Audley, nothing else will ever taste as sweet.'
Fox came in and threw himself into a chair. 'What are you doing here?' he asked the marquis with not much interest.
'For dinner,' said Audley, who had helped himself to some sherry, and now sat on a sofa.
'Jenkins knows?'
'I suppose so.'
There was a depressed silence.
'Young persons of today!' remarked Fenton. 'Have neither of you a store of pleasant conversation?'
'No,' the two young men said together.
Others began to drift into the salon. Lady Aurora and Lady Fox, the Richards and Curtis, and finally, Mr Steadman.
'Did you invite him?' whispered Curtis.
'No,' sighed Fox. 'But he practically lives here.'
Jenkins dispatched a footman to set another extra place at the table and to inform the hard-pressed cook that he must find another chop.
'What afflicts our two peers?' asked Steadman.
'They cannot see the wood for the trees,' answered Fenton confidingly.
The gentlemen had formed a pack, rather separate from the ladies, and were speaking apart. 'Were you previously acquainted with Lady Richards, Steadman?' asked Curtis Fox.
'No. I met her at the marquis' dinner.'
'Really? It was rather sudden that you proposed.' Curtis looked a little shy. 'It is sometimes a little difficult to speak, even when…'
'I saw her that night and spoke the next day,' said Steadman with his uninflected tone. 'It was quite simple.'
'And she said yes?'
Steadman looked as though he would not answer what was becoming a more intimate set of questions. But something in the young man's face indicated more than prurient interest. 'Not that day. But I believed she would.'
'But you knew nothing about her.'
'It did not seem so. It seemed I knew all about her.'
'Yes,' said Curtis, a little dreamily. 'It can be just like that. So, a man must speak, then?'
'Is it not, then, simple?' asked Steadman.
Fox and Audley shot him looks of dislike, and Fenton laughed, placing a comradely arm on Steadman's shoulders. 'Indeed, it is,' said Fenton. 'It is only fools who make trouble for themselves by thinking too much.' He gazed at the marquis. 'Or not thinking at all.' Here he looked at Fox.
Dinner was announced.
'Mrs Eames does not join us?' asked Fox. 'I did send word to her to make one of the table.'
'She does not choose to today,' said Ianthe briefly. 'I shall insist for tomorrow breakfast.'
'Mrs Eames?' said Lady Fox, confused.
'I forgot to tell you, Mama!' said Curtis cheerily. 'The French maid is really Ianthe's step-mama.'
'A maid?' began Her Ladyship.
'She was just pretending to be a maid, your ladyship,' said Lady Richards, helpfully. 'She is really the daughter of a French lieutenant commander of the navy and one of Lord Price's aunts. I asked her about it today. The mother ran off to Paris to be with the Frenchman and the family disowned her. Then she died when poor Cherie was only twenty. Her father had perished at sea, and Cherie took the job as a governess to the widower, Mr Eames. They fell in love and married, but on account of the life that led them into danger, she had to appear as a maid, or governess, or sometimes as a wife. Ianthe was never clear what her role was. Only that her father and she loved her dearly. Is that not an affecting story?'
'I do not understand!' complained Lady Fox, but her voice was less forceful.
'We have lived very differently — as you and your family have remarked, Lady Fox. How should you understand?' Ianthe smiled a genuine smile. 'I thank you for making the attempt.'
'The maid with the disfiguring eyebrows is really your stepmother?'
'She is and … no! You will see tomorrow.'
'The servants … the talk!' intoned Her Ladyship.
'Leave the servants to me,' said Fox shortly. 'And Ianthe, I did not say about you living differently meaning an insult. You know—'
'Yes, you did,' said Ianthe coldly. 'You said that you would make provisions for me since I would not be suited to living the life at Studham.'
'That was on the first day. I explained myself already.'
'You still said it.' Ianthe turned to Lady Aurora. 'Wouldn't you be insulted if a man said that to you?'
Her Ladyship looked amused. 'Well—' she began judiciously.
Sally interrupted. 'I would,' she said to Ianthe. 'I certainly would.'
'Sally!' said her mama. 'Not at the dinner table.'
'We are all family here,' said Ianthe, defending her friend. 'Mr Steadman will be part of the family very soon, after all.'
'Less than five weeks,' agreed Steadman, taking his betrothed's hand and looking at her meaningfully.
'All family, except for him!' added Sally wrathfully, looking at the marquis. The impolite use of the pronoun raised eyebrows around the table.
'Yes,' said Ianthe supportively. 'I cannot think what has brought him here.'
'This is beyond the bounds of good manners,' said L
ady Fox. 'I might not have welcomed the marquis here before, but that was a matter of a familial dispute. Since Fox welcomes him now, it is not for you young ladies to be so—' she turned to Lady Richards. 'What is happening? Why has every hint of good breeding been wrenched from this conversation?'
'You are quite right, Lady Fox,’ said Lady Richards. ‘Girls! I do not know where your manners have gone, but pray apologise to the marquis.'
'Oh, there is no need, Lady Richards,' Audley said, with a wry smile. 'I invited myself to a family dinner and Miss Richards has only spoken the truth.'
'The truth,' said Lady Fox, 'is seldom required at dinner.'
'What have you done, Audley, to put the girls out so?' asked Curtis interestedly.
Audley closed his mouth firmly, casting Curtis a warning look.
'I look on Audley as an old family friend,' said Fox dismissively. 'He is welcome at any time.'
'That is because you two are just the same,' said Ianthe. And it was apparent it was not a compliment.
'Yes. Why cannot all men be like Mr Steadman?' said Sally. 'Upright and straightforward.'
Steadman's serious face let a sardonic smile pass over. He did not think these remarks addressed to himself.
'Yes,’ said Ianthe. 'Precisely.' The girls looked at each other and nodded decisively.
Lady Richards was caught between pleasure at the compliment to her love and the need to stop the implied rudeness. 'Perhaps dear, but there is no need to—'
'Here, what about me?' said Curtis.
Sally gave him a withering look.
'No, I suppose upright is—' he grinned.
'And my husband is … well perhaps upright might not best describe him,' Lady Aurora giggled, 'and definitely not straightforward.'
'I thought you were coming to my defence?' said her husband, wounded.
Ianthe and the Fighting Foxes: The Fentons Book 4 Page 25