by Anne Millar
“I didn’t mean Thomas, Judith. I meant losing his arm. Not that that matters.” She finished lamely. “Oh dear.”
“I think what my daughter means is that Jerome as well as being rich and titled and besotted with her is a thoroughly nice and honourable man. With the right girl to revive his spirits he can be made much of. My daughter has no doubts of her ability to fulfil that role.”
“Mother, you make me sound like a scheming hussy.”
“Well Judith has known you too long to be deceived, dear. So why trouble to pretend?”
As the banter went on Judith’s thoughts drifted. If anyone was truly a schemer it was her. Not for her own advantage certainly, but still guilty of cold blooded calculation. Was she any better than Jane? But did she have any choice? And no matter how friendly Amelia and her mother were, irrespective that she’d known them all her life she could no more admit to them how trapped she was than she could fly. You could despise the conventions as much as you liked but they still gripped you in an embrace you couldn’t break.
Judith tried, she really tried to rejoice in Amelia’s news, wishing her friend joy and meaning it, but it came over too lacklustre to convince. So she listened attentively to Lady Forbury’s insistent advice as her visitors took their early leave.
“Give your father my best wishes, my dear. I do hope he is well soon. You were right to do what you did and defy Sir Theodore at the tea party. Don’t ever be ashamed of that, you’d do it again if you had to. You’re the brave one Judith.”
“I’ll expect you to drop everything and come to my wedding, Judith. No excuses, promise?”
She promised of course, and answered the opaque questioning from Margery Forbury about Sir Theodore as briefly as she could. The way each question reinforced the impression that Amelia’s mother thought she was making a massive mistake she ignored resolutely. For Lady Margery was quite wrong: she wasn’t the brave one at all.
~
“If you dare to make a fuss tonight Judith, you’ll regret it.” John had polished off most of a bottle of wine before they set off, justifying it as the only way to keep the cold out on their coach journey. “It’s damnable enough that I have to spend the evening at Theo’s as your escort without you causing another upset.”
“I thought you and Theo were friends.” Of late John’s references to Theodore had been less favourable though Judith had no idea why.
“We are. I can’t stand being bored is all. Old lady Horsley can be deadly dull and she puts the mockers on Theo. Charles Stainford is a flat fish, though his wife is a prime stepper. At least Hector will be there to raise some kind of breeze.”
Judith considered explaining to her brother that compared to what she was facing an evening at the Horsley table was of no account. Considered it and concluded she had as much chance of mastering his pathetic adolescent patois as talking any sort of sense through his befuddled head. She’d been deciding a lot of things weren’t worth fighting for recently.
The dinner was as dreadful as expected. From the greeting she received from Theodore on arrival to the confusion that reigned everything combined to set Judith’s fraught nerves afire. She hadn’t expected to be met with unalloyed joy, there was too much unsaid between them since that afternoon at the militia barracks. But Theodore’s greeting made no concession to her pride. It was obvious that he expected an apology and a public one at that.
“Welcome Judith. I trust you are well?”
Her health had been his last concern the last time they’d been together. From the minute that she re-entered the mess on John’s arm he glared at her as though he wanted her dead. Every attempt to speak to him had been rewarded by a stare till only Florinda’s intervention had convinced him to behave with a veneer of civility.
“I am, and you?” He wasn’t getting an apology and if he persisted with freezing her she’d damned well walk out on him. John was frantic, signing with darting eyes for her to appease Theodore.
“Pleased to see you.” As a greeting for your beloved it was inadequate, and only given at Florinda’s behest as their hostess’s thunderous face made obvious. Obvious too was the interest of the other guests with Jane Stainford and Hector Dundas vying to outdo each other in gleeful malice. Why did people take such pleasure in others’ misfortune? Charles Stainford at least had the grace to look awkward.
“Shall we go into dinner?” Judith had never expected much finesse from Theodore but even if this was his way of ending the awkwardness it was an unforgivable usurpation of his mother’s prerogative. Particularly when he compounded his mistake by offering Judith his arm. Taking it would have made her the captive princess in a Roman triumph so it wasn’t just good manners that caused her refusal.
“Theodore, your mother.” As hostess Florinda Horsley should be led in first, not Judith. “You mustn’t anticipate.” The sycophantic ripple of laughter told her she’d defused an awkward moment successfully and Florinda Horsley shot Judith a grateful glance as she took her son’s arm. The incident didn’t stop Jane seating herself at Theodore’s right at table, evidently establishing her status as senior lady. Judith could only smile to herself at such small mindedness.
She had to smile more when Hector Dundas betrayed his fondness for the female bosom by plonking himself next to the generously displayed Jane. Charles’ scowl contrasted clearly with his wife’s simpering welcome. That set the tone for the whole party, conversation was desultory at best and the food was over elaborate and far too rich. The turbot came with a salmon mousse and three separate dressings: crab, lobster and shrimp, each one flavoured so heavily with wine as to obscure the taste of the shellfish.
The ostentation didn’t end there, too many made dishes instead of joints left Judith picking at her food lest indigestion added to the misery of the evening. Florinda was busily lauding one particular ragout as testimony to the inventiveness of her cook when Judith caught herself listing the changes she would make. The wave of self loathing nearly sank her. It was one thing to count down the minutes of a wretched dinner, everyone did that. Quite another to sit and plot how you would reform the household after your marriage. That made her no better than Jane.
No had noticed though, the others round the table were too busy with their own business: Florinda boring Jane and Charles with her boasting; John and Hector egging each other on in ogling Jane; and Jane quietly enjoying her husband’s bridling at the attention she was receiving. Theodore alone was detached and silent, watching and calculating like the spider he was. Judith knew then that retribution for the tea party incident was delayed only, not forgotten, he would have the rest of her bleak and empty life to torment her for that transgression and any others.
“Judith, do you like almond comfits? We have French sugar plums too, my dear. Seven layers deep, Cook has been boiling sugar for days.” So much for any concern Florinda Horsley might have for her guests’ teeth. Normally Judith liked her desserts and particularly the wine that came with them. Father always teased her that the sweet wines she enjoyed so much were the taste of a girl and not a lady.
Tonight the fruit tarts were exquisite, the pastry as fine as falling apart, the jelly moulds elaborate enough to awe the most jaded guest. But the creams accompanying the dishes were so heavily laced with alcohol that they quite overpowered the sauterne accompanying the course and left the palate bludgeoned into submission. A fitting metaphor for her prospects.
“Can we not persuade the gentlemen to break from table with us, Lady Florinda?” Jane Stainford was in her element teasing three out of the four men around the table. Of course John and Hector Dundas were all for her notion and Florinda easily agreed when Jane suggested cards as a suitable activity.
“We have the tables in the library, Judith.” If Florinda meant to elicit Judith’s empathy by recalling the night of the ball when Judith had given her advice on pacifying elderly gentlemen she failed. The last thing Judith could do tonight was to concentrate for cards. Her refusal wasn’t well received by Theodore
but she wasn’t the only one. Charles followed to the library easily enough but then took up a book and a position that made his disinclination clear.
But it was Jane who took caprice to new levels. Waiting till Dundas and John were engaged in a dispute as to who should partner her she announced her change of mind and pulled Hector Dundas up from his seat. That left Florinda, Theodore and John one player short so they had to play with dummy. It also left Jane’s husband sufficiently annoyed to glower at her as she promenaded around the room with the overweight young officer.
“He’s just a bluster of a young fool.” If anyone had asked Judith why she felt the need to comfort Charles she’d have denied that was what she was doing.
“And she’s no sort of material to make an Earl’s wife.” The overlay of self pity was so evident that Judith had no need to question if he meant his words.
“She could change as she grows older?” Said more in hope than conviction Judith wasn’t surprised when her optimism was rejected.
“You mean she will grow more reckless.” Charles clearly didn’t expect an answer to his dejected musing.
“I’m sorry. I remember when you and she first came to Trefoyle, how much fun we had, and how excited everybody was.” Amara had called them two golden couples. So she wasn’t always right.
“A long time ago Judith. Much has happened since then. But your betrothal is a good match, Sir Theodore is rich and you are most capable. Together you will be the toast of the county. I always thought Thomas was the lucky one.” There was no edge to his words and after all the false bonhomie at dinner Judith felt relieved to be speaking freely.
“I am sorry for what Thomas did, Charles. Sorry too that you are estranged from him. Your poor father must be so unhappy. Can you ever forgive Thomas?” She was stepping further out of line than even Amara or Aunt Matilde at their worst would contemplate. If Charles told her to mind her own business she wouldn’t be in the least surprised.
“Isn’t it for him to forgive me, Judith? I shot him for no good reason, after he had deliberately deloped.”
Jane’s laughter pealed round the room causing the card players to mutter their annoyance, though Judith caught a hard look in her direction as well. Theodore still wanted some fences mended and didn’t mind letting her know it.
“After the offence he gave you? Your own brother with your wife?” Surprise was her only excuse for a response that transgressed any boundary of decency.
“I let Jane down. By comparison Thomas is hardly to blame.” Judith couldn’t credit what she was hearing. Charles was either saintly beyond the common measure or taking leave of his senses. She couldn’t help glancing over to where Hector Dundas was trying to manoeuvre Jane into an alcove of bookcases. The fat young subaltern was failing miserably, obviously no match for the wiles of a woman no better than a trollop, with a trollop’s knowledge of how to handle men.
“Charles, I don’t understand. You have every reason to be angry with Thomas.” Did Charles want a reconciliation with Thomas? Could that possibly be what had brought him here? How could he? What man could forgive Thomas for what he had done?
“No Judith. You may be angry with him. I am not.”
She knew she was blustering even as the words came tumbling out. “I am not angry with him. I have no reason to be.” If ever a denial was unconvincing that was.
“But I am angry with him, Judith. And I might expect you to share my anger. Out of loyalty at least if you have no grievance of your own.” When it came to sneaking up on people Theodore Horsley could be surprisingly light on his feet for such a large man. And his face said that he didn’t believe her.
The thoroughly unsatisfactory evening broke up quickly enough thereafter, Florinda’s beetling brow proclaiming how disappointed she was that Judith and Theodore weren’t better reconciled. John moaned on the way home that he’d lost out both to Dundas and to the cards; but it was Charles who held Judith’s attention as the coach rattled through the night. She could make no sense of what she’d heard and worse, she couldn’t put it out of her mind.
Chapter 16
The thing rattled round her head next morning as well. Obsessive wasn’t a nice feeling, but no matter how she tried Judith couldn’t stop herself. It didn’t make sense for Charles to be so forgiving. How could he forgive Thomas for taking his wife and humiliating him? How could Thomas have done it? The Thomas she remembered as protective of his brother wouldn’t have, but then she hadn’t really known that Thomas or she wouldn’t have been stupid enough to break her heart over him.
Last night she hadn’t had a proper chance to work out what it meant, first with the awfulness of the evening then with John’s continual niggling on the way home. He’d only stopped whining when the wine finally completed its work and he fell asleep. She’d been tempted to tell the servants just to leave him in the coach for the night but father might have got to hear about it. Besides the servants would have been shocked, though goodness knows how it was more dignified for him to be carried insensible to bed.
The trouble was she couldn’t understand it any better this morning. At least Charles saw Jane for what she was. ‘she’s no sort of material to make an Earl’s wife.’ Or did that mean he was thinking of declining his father’s decision to make him the heir? As for ‘Isn’t it for him to forgive me, Judith? I shot him for no good reason,’ and ‘I let Jane down. Thomas is hardly to blame.’ there was no good reason why Charles should say such things. Saintly only went so far before it tipped over into insanity.
Actually the trouble wasn’t that she couldn’t understand Charles’ attitude, the real trouble was she couldn’t leave it alone. As if there weren’t enough problems to be going on with, she couldn’t wrench her mind away from this bizarre attitude of a man who should be angry but was only sad. Judith knew why of course, it was because she was a fool. A fool who wanted to believe that there could be more to Thomas than a man who took what he wanted without thought for anyone else.
She could sit and worry at the words for the rest of the day without understanding why Charles wasn’t bursting with anger as he should be, there was only one way to resolve why he was so acquiescent. Unfortunately that involved a call to Horsley Hall. Which might well delight Theodore if he thought his betrothed was eager to be in his company.
It would however necessitate disturbing Mrs Rogers since she would need a chaperone and John was likely to be sleeping off his wine till well into the afternoon and probably beyond. Since his company had been taken from him he had no reason to visit the barracks and rarely ventured out before evening. At least father was easier so that their housekeeper had stopped spending all her time at his bedside and resumed her natural role of striking terror into the maids.
Still there was no choice if she wanted to question Charles, just like there was little chance of avoiding Theodore unless he happened to be away from the house. Though John had said Theodore now spent very little time with the militia thanks to Thomas Stainford. That wretched man managed to interfere in everything. So she went searching for Mrs Rogers, who wasn’t in the least averse to an outing.
“Your father is getting his spirits back a little, Miss Judith, so I can leave him and this will make a nice break. But won’t Viscount Alsbury be busy with the militia at this time of day? He may not take kindly to being interrupted. Though it will be nice to see him again. Such a fine young man.”
“The Viscount Alsbury is Charles Stainford, Mrs Rogers, no longer Thomas.” Emily Rogers’ shocked look said quite clearly that the correction had been given far too sharply, but Judith took no notice. Why did she have to be pursued by the man at every turn?
Mrs Rogers continued her quizzical behaviour in the coach. She gave very impression of wanting to say something but not quite bringing herself to the point of doing so. Instead Judith was treated to a succession of meaningful looks and pregnant pauses. For a woman who prided herself on being forthright it was a remarkably restrained performance.
Unlike
the behaviour of the servants at Horsley hall when the woman they knew would shortly be their mistress arrived unannounced and unexpected. Scuttling footmen, a bemused butler and an obsequious housekeeper turned what should have been a minor event into a sensation. Until a somewhat flustered Sir Theodore could be fetched Judith found herself the central exhibit for an ever changing group of servants, all anxious to anticipate her every wish.
Theodore Horsley was almost a relief by comparison, even though he displayed none of the warmth and affection that might be expected of a man greeting his betrothed. But then the uncertainty and doubt that underlay the front he put on were far more fitting emotions for their romance.
“Judith, what a delightful surprise.”
Which meant she had to try and explain what had brought her here. With just one reservation, she couldn’t tell the truth. “Theodore, I felt we parted badly last night.” He was waiting, clearly expecting more and Judith even considered apologising for a moment. But that would be doing it too thick and Theodore was already suspicious enough. So she gave him her sweetest smile, the one that implied she had done her part and it was up to him now.
Theodore hesitated for just an instant too long before his smile fixed into place. “I’m glad you came Judith. My words last night were over hasty. That man Stainford has caused me too much trouble over the regiment without allowing him to intrude further.”
It was less an apology than a challenge to her. One that only a fool would rise to. “Good Theodore, I’m glad that’s out of the way.” Sweet smile set hard Judith waited him out instead.
“Charles and Jane are taking nuncheon on the terrace. Would you care to join us? Mother I’m afraid isn’t feeling well. She was vexed by last night and has a headache.”