‘I shall be pleased to attend, Papa.’ Her voice seemed to her to travel from a great distance.
‘Then it is settled. After the ball you and Carmela will accompany Lady Veryan to London. From there, you can journey with your cousin on to Spain. I shall make sure that I am back in town in time to see you both safely on your way.’
Her father began idly to leaf through the sheaf of messages on his desk and she judged it time to go. The interview was thankfully at an end, but she still had to face the forthcoming encounter with Christabel. That would be far more difficult to negotiate, for women had much sharper antennae. She must prevent her friend from tuning into any hint of the distress that was tearing at her soul.
* * *
She was to be allowed a few more hours of grace. Christabel had endured a disturbed night and did not appear in the drawing room until almost noon, and, when she did, Carmela was in attendance. From the moment Lady Veryan had arrived at Marine Parade, Carmela had taken the expectant mother under her wing. Delighted to have a charge to coddle, she was busy now fussing over the likely need for shawls or slippers or footstools. She seemed intent on wrapping their guest in thick coils of cotton wool.
‘You will never go to the parade, Lady Veryan,’ she said in a shocked tone when Christabel mentioned that she was looking forward to visiting the Level that afternoon to view the Regent’s birthday parade.
‘I don’t see why not.’ Christabel’s musical voice held a note of amusement. ‘I cannot sit indoors forever and I’m quite sure that my young friend will be looking forward to the spectacle as much as I.’
Her young friend, coming into the drawing room at that moment, felt herself grow heavy with despair. She had counted on hiding herself away until Friday when she must endure the Regent’s party before a final escape to obscurity. It was not to be.
‘You would like to go, Domino, wouldn’t you?’ Christabel asked coaxingly.
‘Naturally we must not miss such a display,’ she returned bravely. ‘We can stroll to the Level after luncheon. I believe the ceremonial marching is to begin around two o’ clock.’
* * *
They arrived well before that hour, hoping to secure a good vantage point. Alarmed at Lady Veryan’s imprudence, Carmela had insisted on accompanying them. The dowdiness of her dress contrasted almost jestingly with the flamboyant colour that was everywhere around. Her severe distaste for ostentation was well known and Domino watched in surprise at her cousin’s interest in the preparations that signalled a beginning to the military display.
The square on which the soldiers were to parade was the Regent’s old cricket ground, now transformed by a hard covering underfoot and decorated with fluttering flags and bunting of every shape and hue. Crowds were gathered along the intersecting pathways leading to the marching square and a tiered stand had been built at one end for the more genteel visitors. The little party made their way to seats on the front row from where they would enjoy an uninterrupted view. The chattering throng and a military band already playing with gusto added to the sense of anticipation. The sun was bright for a late August afternoon, but a cooling breeze blew inland from the sea and the striped canvas awnings, which had been erected over the stand, stood ready to protect delicate complexions.
Christabel looked around her in appreciation. She had been living retired from ton society so long that she had forgotten the exciting hum of people intent on pleasure. Glancing right and left at the fashionable silks and satins, the poke bonnets, the little pieces of gauze and tinsel masquerading as hats, she began to feel a complete dowd. Life in the countryside was wonderful but it had its drawbacks, particularly for one who had long been considered a diamond of the first water. She must make sure that she returned from London with new gowns as well as medical advice. She need not have worried. Whatever she wore, she was instantly the centre of attention. Her flame-haired beauty ensured that. A number of people recognised her and she nodded in response. A woman three rows back craned her neck to see who accompanied Domino de Silva.
The music made it impossible for anyone to be heard and nobody sitting nearby attempted to strike up a conversation. Domino was thankful since she had lost all desire to socialise. Her anxious scan of the stand revealed no sign of Joshua and she could only hope that his role in planning the event would remain backstage. He must have deliberately absented himself, guessing that she would attend. He would not know of Christabel’s presence, of course. And it must stay that way. The thought of a meeting between the two was unbearable.
‘Isn’t that the Dragoons?’
Christabel leant forwards in eagerness as the band struck up an altogether more martial note. The Light Dragoons had arrived, decked in their resplendent ceremonial uniform. They marched proudly towards the square, a thousand limbs moving as one. A drum major strode at their head, beating time with his golden mace. Their show of military prowess began with a display of intricate marching patterns, dizzying in their complexity and breath taking in their co-ordination. There followed individual feats of daring and skill until finally the stupendous conclusion of a mock battle complete with enemy infantry and a troop of cavalry.
* * *
An hour had slipped easily by before the last hurrahs of the crowd were sounding and they made ready to leave.
‘Domino, my dear. How agreeable!’ A perfumed figure crossed their path. ‘I forgot to ask when we last met if you intended to come to the parade, but somehow I knew the uniforms would bring you!’
Carmela glared at the newcomer and Domino bowed stiffly. ‘As you see, Your Grace, we have been enjoying the display.’
Slightly in the rear of the group, Christabel caught up with them at that moment. She smiled shyly at the duchess and Domino had no alternative but to introduce her.
‘Your Grace, this is Lady Veryan.’
‘Veryan?’ the duchess queried faintly.
‘That’s right,’ Christabel said warmly, ‘Christabel Veryan. How do you do? Was that not a most magnificent spectacle?’
Bewilderment, mortification, naked fury flitted across the duchess’s face in rapid succession. But her rigid training stood her in good stead and a mask of indifference slipped into place as she responded levelly, ‘The Dragoons can always be relied on for a superb exhibition. The dear Prince dotes on them, you know.’
Christabel marked the condescension but as the woman appeared to be a friend of Domino’s, she felt it incumbent to be courteous. Her two companions seemed to have been struck temporarily dumb. She waded gallantly into a smooth stream of small talk. The duchess ably played her part in the charade, automatic responses issuing with ease from her practised lips, while all the time questions laid siege to her mind. Why was Lady Veryan here? Surely after what she had divulged to Domino de Silva, this woman should not be her friend! Something had gone badly wrong. She broke off what she was saying and looked wildly around. She needed to see Leo Moncaster urgently.
Christabel was nonplussed by the older woman’s evident disquiet but hoping the duchess would soon recover her composure, she persevered. ‘I spend my life in the depths of the Cornish countryside, so you see today has been a most wonderful treat.’
Charlotte Severn pulled herself together with enormous effort. ‘And what brings you to Brighton at this time, Lady Veryan?’
A last hope had flashed into her mind and she was clinging to it. Christabel had come to Brighton to commiserate with Domino, to reiterate that she too had suffered from Joshua Marchmain’s iniquity. She had come to tell her that the man was bad through and through and that Domino was right to separate from him forever.
‘I’m on my way to London,’ Christabel said happily. ‘My husband insists that I see someone in Harley Street, though goodness knows why. Everything…’ and she patted her expanding stomach lovingly ‘…seems to be progressing just as it should.’
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The duchess’s hope flickered and died. ‘And will you also be travelling to town, Domino?’
Desperate to appear unperturbed, Domino found her voice at last. ‘I will, Your Grace. Lady Veryan’s arrival is timely. We can enjoy at least a sennight together in London before she returns to Cornwall.’
The duchess digested this. ‘Then you are staying in England?
‘I imagine so,’ she lied.
‘And not returning to Spain?’
‘Not for the moment. My father has need of me still. And I am enjoying my stay greatly and would be loth to cut it short.’
She had the satisfaction of seeing the duchess blanch. Let her think that she and Joshua were still together, that the return to London signalled a deepening of their relationship. This spiteful woman had recounted her poisonous news for one reason only. She had wanted to ensure their separation. She had succeeded but Domino would never give her the pleasure of knowing it. Let her feel chagrin that her plan had not worked, let her feel anguish that Joshua would never return to her. In time of course he would. That was inevitable but every moment of pain inflicted on this malevolent creature was worthwhile. The strength of her own venom shocked her. If she could have heard the duchess’s embittered conversation just a few hours later, she would have prized the small triumph.
* * *
‘It hasn’t worked!’
Leo Moncaster looked ruminatively at the furious woman opposite him.
‘Why is that, my sweet one?’ he asked drily.
‘Do not call me that.’
‘I cannot think why I did.’ He glanced at the sour expression distorting her face. ‘Anything less sweet would be hard to imagine.’
‘It hasn’t worked,’ she spelt out angrily. ‘Christabel Veryan is here in Brighton and quite clearly friends with that chit. The girl has no shame. Wasn’t she supposed to be desperately in love with Richard Veryan? Yet she is happy to consort with the woman who broke his heart and unconcerned that Joshua was the willing accomplice. She is shallow beyond belief.’
Moncaster raised his eyebrows and seemed about to comment, but evidently decided otherwise.
‘I know what you are about to say. Don’t! I may be shallow, but at least I am consistent. The girl is happy to entertain Lady Veryan in her own home; more than that, she’s happy to accompany her to London in a few days’ time. What would you wager on her being equally happy to see Marchmain there, whatever ill she knows of him?’
‘Let it go, Charlotte,’ he advised her roughly. ‘I would like to punish the girl as much as you, but we have failed at every attempt and done nothing but make ourselves look foolish. It might be as well simply to let her disappear to Spain.’
‘That’s because you haven’t heard the best of it. The chit is staying in England!’
Moncaster’s brows knit together in annoyance, but he spoke calmly. ‘So what do you want to do?’ His equanimity infuriated the duchess.
‘Do! Do! I want to get rid of the girl forever. You know what I want to do.’
‘Then we must hazard a final throw of the dice, my dear. No hesitation this time. No misgivings.’
‘You are right. I have been too kind to her.’
Lord Moncaster grimaced, but the duchess went on. ‘Far too kind. I have allowed her to flourish instead of nipping the life out of her from the very outset. We will do what we’ve had in mind for weeks. Are you ready?’
‘I can be ready at any time, dear lady.’
‘Good. Then the Regent’s ball, the day after tomorrow?’
He took her hand and slowly brought it to his lips. ‘A perfect occasion, I feel. It will prove a splendid finale to an overlong drama.’
Chapter Nine
By the time they wended their way back to Marine Parade, Christabel was feeling very tired. It had been an entertaining afternoon, but a long walk and prolonged sitting had taken their toll. Once in Domino’s own small parlour, she cast off her bonnet and sank gratefully into a comfortable chair.
‘You should rest in bed, Lady Veryan,’ Carmela scolded. ‘It cannot be good for the baby to be forever on your feet.’
‘Thank you for your concern,’ she replied sweetly, ‘but I can rest here.’ She reached for a cup from the tray the housekeeper had just brought in. ‘The tea is sure to restore my energy.’
‘But, Lady Veryan…’
‘I will stay.’ Her voice was firm. ‘Such a delightful room—it must catch every glimmer of sunlight and its view of the sea is unmatched. I can understand why you chose this for your own, Domino. And it’s perfect for a comfortable coze.’
The last thing Domino wanted was a comfortable coze. She hoped that Carmela would remain and put paid to any chance of intimate talk, but her cousin rose almost immediately and announced that in that case she had many things to do, and all of them urgent.
‘This afternoon has been wonderful,’ Christabel began gently as the door shut, ‘and thank you for taking me. It felt strange to be among a fashionable crowd again, but thoroughly enjoyable. Not that I would ever forsake Cornwall!’
‘I don’t imagine you would. Tell me about life at the Abbey.’
If Domino had hoped to deflect her friend from the personal, she hoped in vain.
‘The best thing about this afternoon was sharing it with you. I’ve been waiting a long time for you to come to Madron and discover the house for yourself.’
‘The moment never seemed right,’ her young companion hedged. ‘My aunts would not have taken kindly to my travelling abroad again. They only permitted my return to England because Papa needed help.’ A small white lie would not hurt, she thought.
‘Perhaps once the baby is born you will feel able to make the journey to Cornwall.’
Domino smiled non-commitally. By then she would be back in Madrid and there would be little opportunity to venture far.
‘We never had time to know each other really well,’ Christabel was musing. ‘But I’m sure if we had, we would have become the best of friends. One thing of which I am very sure—I have you to thank for my happiness.’
Her friend flushed and made haste to disclaim any such thing.
‘My dear, yes. If it had not been for you, I might never have felt able to trust Richard. And with what result! We could not be happier together and this child will only bring us closer.’
Domino felt genuine pleasure. A few months ago, a few weeks ago even, her enjoyment would have been compromised by regret but that had melted like summer snow. She had a new and far heavier burden to bear.
‘It’s wonderful to see you so happy,’ and she pressed Christabel’s hand, ‘but my role was very small—a silly letter only. You were always destined to be with Richard.’
‘You made me see that and I cannot thank you enough. I did some foolish things but you made me realise that I could have a different future.’
The young girl swallowed hard, but said nothing.
‘It seems that no matter how badly one has behaved,’ Christabel continued thoughtfully, ‘—and I did behave badly—past events don’t have to ruin the rest of one’s life.’
There was again no response from her companion and Christabel paused and looked intently at the girl seated beside her. ‘I hope you’ll forgive me for saying this, my dear, but you have not been looking quite as carefree as I remember. I wonder—is there anything wrong?’
Danger leaped out in mile high letters. Domino knew that she must drive the conversation away from this treacherous ground.
‘There’s nothing wrong, I assure you. I’m just a little tired. Brighton is a town made for leisure and that can be hard work! This summer has been very busy.’
‘I can imagine,’ her friend said sympathetically. ‘Wherever the Regent is in residence, there�
��s unlikely to be a deal of tranquillity.’
She paused again, as if wondering whether or not she should say more. ‘But should anything be causing you unease, Domino, my best advice would be to meet it bravely and then not look back.’
‘There is nothing.’
‘I’m glad to hear it. No doubt you are far too young to fall into anxiety.’ She leaned back in her chair and gazed through the bow windows at the ruffled sea beyond. ‘But, truth to tell, I was only your age when I managed to fall into a maelstrom of trouble that took years to resolve.’
Domino could hardly speak. If Christabel intended to confess her youthful folly, she did not want to hear. Or did she? There was a part of her that needed to know why this woman had abandoned an honourable man like Richard—the same part, perhaps, that needed to excuse her own all too easy fall into the arms of the same philanderer.
‘How many years?’ she heard herself ask in a constricted voice, though she knew the answer well.
‘Six wasted years. I thought I could never forgive myself for what I’d done, nor forgive the man involved. But I was wrong.’
‘How did you forgive?’ Domino’s throat was dry.
‘I was foolishly naïve, on the town for the first time in my life. And so was he. We were both too young and heedless to bear the responsibility of our actions.’
Her words were almost an echo of those Domino had heard from Joshua himself.
‘And you didn’t blame the man?’ she ventured. ‘Should he not have taken responsibility?’
‘But why? We were both to blame. In fact, I can thank him now. Until I met him I had taken Richard for granted. I was sleepwalking into marriage. A short-lived affair, for that was all it was, may have destroyed my betrothal but it made me realise that I had forsaken a deep, abiding love for a momentary passion, one that had no substance to it, no depth. If I were ever to meet that man again, I would shake him by the hand and thank him truly.’
Society's Most Scandalous Rake Page 19