Mesalliance

by Riley, Stella

‘You were wondering if it is not a little too soon to ask?’ she suggested helpfully. ‘Of course. I understand completely. Indeed, I am honoured that you should consider me … and very, very tempted.’

  An unpleasant, sinking feeling was taking place in the pit of Mr Garfield’s stomach and he knew that he had better speak now – and swiftly – or forever hold his peace.

  ‘However,’ continued Adeline smoothly, ‘I fear I must decline your extremely flattering offer … at least until we get to know each other a little better. And that day, I feel sure, cannot be far distant.’

  Lewis Garfield was not a man whose mind moved quickly but, on this occasion, he surpassed himself. The implications of Mistress Kendrick’s words were only too horribly clear and, since it did not now seem possible to correct her misconception without finding himself in very deep water indeed, he grasped the reprieve with both hands. Far, far better to nip his infatuation in the bud than to risk further embarrassment of this kind – or worse.

  Suddenly a man of decision, he surged to his feet, mumbled some tangled excuses and vanished, without more ado, into the shrubbery.

  ‘Exit, pursued by a bear,’ said a reflective voice beside her. ‘What can you have said to him?’

  ‘Guess,’ said Adeline. And then, meeting Rockliffe’s eyes, ‘Or no. On second thoughts – don’t.’

  ‘No,’ he agreed, resting one elegantly-shod foot on the fallen tree-trunk where she sat and producing the inevitable snuff-box from his pocket whilst enjoying the honey-coloured glints the sun found in her hair. ‘One cannot but wonder, however, why it is that you don’t appear to feel insulted.’

  ‘In general terms, because he won’t trouble me again.’ She surveyed him with faint, amusement. ‘You did not enjoy your luncheon.’

  ‘I dislike indulging in a balancing act with my plate whilst removing various species of insect from the syllabub. A sign, if you like, of my declining years.’

  Adeline’s expression did not waver by so much as a hairsbreadth but, behind her grey-striped bodice came a tug of something she neither wanted nor was prepared for. She said, ‘Tom tells me you’ve finally persuaded my uncle to sell you The Trojan.’

  ‘Did you think I wouldn’t?’

  ‘On the contrary. I was sure you would.’ She paused, tilting her head consideringly. ‘Hardly the horse for anyone’s declining years, I would have thought.’

  His Grace smiled. ‘Oh – quite. But it is hard, you understand, to relinquish one’s image.’

  ‘Yes. It must be. And easier by far to hazard one’s neck.’

  ‘You’re concerned for my safety? I’m touched.’ He watched as she rose and shook out her skirts – absorbing, as always, her innate grace. ‘You’re going?’

  ‘Retreating,’ replied Adeline pleasantly. ‘And leaving the field to Diana.’

  Rockliffe cast a brief glance over his shoulder and then prepared to utter a sardonic rejoinder – but too late. Mistress Kendrick was already several paces distant and he was left with no alternative but to turn and smile on her cousin.

  Determinedly hiding her chagrin that he had paid her almost no attention all day and then added insult to injury by blatantly seeking out Adeline instead, Diana summoned her most brilliant smile and said, ‘I wanted to consult you on a matter of taste, your Grace. Mama has said that I may powder my hair for the ball tomorrow and I wanted to know if you feel that it will suit me.’

  Rockliffe regarded her enigmatically. Although he invariably wore his own hair powdered these days, he was generally known to uphold the view that very young ladies appeared to greater advantage without it. It was something, he had always felt, to do with freshness and innocence; which was why he replied suavely, ‘Admirably, I should imagine.’

  ‘Oh – do you think so, indeed?’ she cooed. ‘Then I shan’t hesitate. It’s simply that Nell says you do not permit her to do so.’

  ‘Ah. But Nell, you see, is an entirely different matter.’

  ‘I’m glad,’ she said daringly, ‘that you think so.’

  ‘How could I not?’ His tone was as bland as butter but, beneath their heavy lids, his eyes gleamed. ‘In your case, my dear, I am convinced that they broke the mould.’

  It did not occur to Diana to remark – as Adeline might have done – that no doubt he considered this fortunate. It did not even occur to her to point out that she had a twin. She merely dimpled complacently, dropped a mock curtsy and thanked him. Rockliffe felt boredom stirring and toyed restlessly with his snuff-box. He had spent the past week blowing hot and cold on Mistress Di but today the game had suddenly ceased to amuse him … and, because it had, he terminated it.

  The result was that, on the night before the one on which she fully intended to eclipse every other lady, Diana was deprived of her beauty sleep. Something, she sensed, was going horribly wrong. For Rockliffe – who ought, by now, to be eating out of the palm of her hand – was growing increasingly elusive; and every time she felt she had him in her grasp, he seemed to melt through her fingers. He had accorded her no more than a bare five minutes that evening and had not paid a single compliment worth repeating to Cecily. Worse still, he had not yet asked her to dance with him at the ball. Diana buffeted her pillow and turned over, frowning. It wasn’t fair. She was beautiful and she’d done everything in her power to charm him – so why did he show no sign of wanting her? Why?

  Rockliffe, staring thoughtfully from his window into the darkened garden, could have told her. What he had not done, until this moment [mainly because it had seemed too ludicrous to be worth the trouble] was to analyse the knowledge for himself. Now, however, with this feeling that he had not sought and did not want threatening to challenge his reason, he recognised the need to enumerate the facts. And the facts, of course, were remarkably simple.

  He was in the market for a wife who would occupy her position with well-bred grace and curb Nell’s excesses but who would not bore him to distraction. There were, he knew, a number of ladies who could fulfil the first two; and there was Diana Franklin – who did not qualify in any respect at all. Unfortunately, in an already insoluble situation, there was also Adeline.

  It was not, he reflected clinically, that he loved her. Not at all. It was merely that she never failed to surprise and intrigue him. She was cold and sharp as a razor, no beauty and utterly infuriating; and he wanted her.

  It was impossible, of course. He had never been in the habit of seducing respectable females and didn’t intend to start now … and, as a prospective bride, Adeline was out of the question. She was badly-connected and not of his world. It wasn’t that he cared a jot what that world might say, but he was aware that he owed something to his name. He also had a decided aversion to acquiring Richard Horton and Diana as relatives; so even if he had wanted to marry Adeline – which he didn’t – it was quite out of the question.

  The sensible course, therefore, was to resist the attraction … but that was beginning to prove difficult. He should never, he now realised, have coerced Lady Miriam into putting Adeline in his way – but there was little point in bemoaning that fact now. All he could do was appreciate the irony of it. He had baited his own trap and must live with the consequences. But only for four more days and then he would be free. It was a calming thought … and one on which to retire.

  ~ * * * ~

  SEVEN

  The day of the ball dawned without a cloud in the sky. Cecily Garfield wasted no time at all in putting one there.

  ‘You won’t get him, you know,’ she informed Diana pityingly. ‘It’s a shame, too – after all the trouble you’ve gone to.’

  ‘What trouble?’ snapped Diana, her nerves already stretched. ‘I haven’t even begun yet.’

  ‘No? Then I suggest you do, dearest. Because, so far, I don’t think he’d notice if you disappeared in a puff of smoke.’

  ‘Which only goes to show how much you know about it!’

  ‘Well, you would say that, wouldn’t you?’ Cecily smiled maddeningly. ‘But the proof
of the pudding, you know … and he hasn’t exactly taken to dogging your footsteps, has he? I’ll wager he hasn’t even asked you to dance with him this evening.’

  ‘He will,’ replied Diana, tossing her head. ‘He will.’

  ‘Oh – no doubt. But I daresay he’ll dance with Thea, too – and Lizzie and me. In such a small party, it would look very odd if he didn’t. But it takes more than courtesy to promote an offer of marriage … and although I’m sure he thinks you’re very pretty, I suspect you don’t attract him in the least.’

  Two bright spots of colour burned in Diana’s cheeks and her palm itched to banish the sympathetic smile from Mistress Cecy’s face. She said tightly, ‘You’d better wait and see, then. I’ve told you I’ll be Duchess of Rockliffe before the year’s out – and I will.’

  ‘I’m sorry to say it, Di, but I doubt it. I really do,’ sighed Cecily. ‘And I honestly think it would be ever so much better if you were to face the facts. For even if he were madly in love with you – which he obviously isn’t – I doubt he’d offer for you. The thing is, dearest, that he’s not just a Duke. He’s a Wynstanton.’

  ‘Meaning what, precisely?’

  ‘Well, I don’t want to offend you or suggest that your family isn’t perfectly respectable or anything. But it has to be said that the Wynstantons don’t marry just anybody. Rockliffe’s mother, for instance, was sister to the Earl of Leominster and his sister, Lucilla, is Viscountess Grassmere. So I really don’t see him settling for the daughter of a mere baronet. Do you?’

  Diana rose and shook out her pale pink taffeta skirt with hands that weren’t quite steady. Then, fixing Cecily with a glittering blue stare, she said unevenly, ‘You’re very smug, aren’t you? But if the Gunning girls could do it, then so can I. And, unlike you, I don’t have to rely on my money to catch a husband. I’m beautiful – everyone says so – and I’m good enough to marry anyone I choose.’

  ‘So you say. But I’ll believe it,’ yawned Cecily, ‘on the day that it happens.’

  The flush faded, leaving Diana’s face white with temper.

  ‘Watch me, then. And get ready to eat your words … because I’ll be betrothed to Rockliffe before he leaves here next week. And that’s a promise.’

  On which Parthian shot, she stalked away to her bedchamber to relieve her feelings by smashing a crystal rose-bowl in the hearth.

  *

  While the rest of the party spent a lazy day in preparation for a night’s unbridled gaiety, Adeline arranged flowers, relayed her aunt’s orders to the servants and dissuaded the head cook from suicide over a belated request for turbot. Of the ball itself, she thought very little – and, when she did think of it, was more than half-inclined to absent herself from it altogether. She did not dance and, since dinner was to be replaced by a buffet supper, she was unlikely to be missed. All in all, the only thing against spending the evening in her room with a book was a very natural reluctance to please Diana – who had made her wishes known with all her usual éclat.

  ‘Stay out of the way tonight,’ she’d said, without preamble, having met Adeline by chance on the stairs. ‘No one will care whether you’re there or not – and I don’t want you.’

  ‘Of course you don’t,’ Adeline had replied kindly. ‘But cheer up. If Rockliffe asks me to dance, I’ll tell him that you’re my official substitute.’ And shaking free of Diana’s restraining hand, had continued on her way.

  After that, she didn’t think of the matter again until she entered her bedchamber in the early part of the evening and checked on the threshold at the sight of the gown reposing on her bed. Then, carefully closing the door behind her, she crossed the room to investigate.

  It was the colour of bluebells and simply designed, its only ornamentation the white, quilted petticoat embroidered with blue and silver thread – and it was beautiful. Adeline looked at it thoughtfully for a long time. Two things surprised her; first, that Lizzie had apparently neither forgotten nor changed her mind – and, second, the strength of her own desire to at least try the gown on. Visions of appearing to advantage, for just once in her life, hovered on the edges of her mind. And though she apostrophised herself for a fool and told herself that a borrowed gown was unlikely to fit and could not be altered, still the temptation persisted.

  By the time she yielded to it there were sounds from below betokening further arrivals but Adeline did not hurry. She removed her clothes and washed in cold water from the jug before unpinning her hair and brushing it with slow, deliberate strokes. Then, with unaccustomed care, she set about piling it up on her head and perfecting the two glossy ringlets that were to lie demurely on one shoulder. And finally – half-terrified, half-elated – she stepped into the gown.

  It was a trifle loose but nothing that could not be corrected by tighter lacing – a tricky manoeuvre, but one which she eventually accomplished to her satisfaction. Then, as though it were the only thing that mattered, she took a long, long look at herself in the glass … and wondered what she had done.

  *

  Adeline entered the blue salon [transformed for the evening into a ballroom] as unobtrusively as possible and with only one purpose in mind – that of thanking Mistress Pickering. But this, since Lizzie was just about to take to the floor with Andrew and was not, in any case, desirous of being thanked, was not easy. Adeline found herself able to utter no more than a half-sentence before her benefactress cut in with a laconic, ‘It suits you. I thought it would.’ And dragged Mr Franklin willy-nilly into the gavotte.

  Perplexed but conscious of a tug of admiration for the girl’s style, Adeline watched her go. Then Althea was beside her, looking worried.

  ‘Addie … you look beautiful,’ she said breathlessly but with sincerity. And then, ‘I think Di’s planning something dreadful – and I don’t know what to do.’

  Adeline, who knew as well as anyone the extremes of which Diana was capable, regarded her cousin with attention. ‘Tell me.’

  ‘She says I’m to go to the book-room on the stroke of nine and be sure to have Cecy with me. I don’t know how she managed it – but I th-think she’s in there with the Duke. What can she be doing?’

  ‘At a guess, something exceedingly stupid.’ Adeline scanned the room for Rockliffe’s unmistakable presence and failed to find it. Inexplicably, her heart sank. ‘I take it you’ve said nothing to Cecily?’

  ‘No. But what shall I do? It’s almost nine now.’

  ‘Leave it to me. Diana’s expecting an audience – and it would be a shame to disappoint her, wouldn’t it?’

  The hour chimed as she crossed the hall and a sardonic gleam entered Adeline’s eye. It did not take a genius to imagine what Diana might be hoping to achieve and it would be a pleasure to put a spoke in her wheel. Without any hesitation, she swung open the book-room door and went in.

  For the space of a heart-beat she was granted the sight of Diana apparently languishing inert in his Grace’s arms before one of her hands moved to rest lovingly against his cheek and she stood on tiptoe to press her mouth to his. Rockliffe’s head jerked back and his arms dropped away from Diana as if scalded. She, however, continued to cling until he spoke.

  ‘Unless you’re a party to this little charade,’ he said bitingly, his gaze locked with Adeline’s, ‘I’d be grateful if you would shut the damned door.’

  An unsuspected weight fell from Adeline’s shoulders and she immediately did as he asked – while, at precisely the same moment, Diana uncoiled herself from him, crying, ‘Oh my God – Cecy! I never dreamed --’ And stopped dead as she realised her mistake.

  Rockliffe’s mouth twitched and he raised one brow in silent enquiry.

  ‘She was expecting Cecily Garfield,’ explained Adeline, ‘on whose indiscretion one may always rely. You can close your mouth, Diana. I’m not a figment of your imagination.’

  Diana took an abrupt step forward and then stopped, as if poised for attack. Beneath the skilfully applied cosmetics, her face was white with temper and she said je
rkily, ‘I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about. I wasn’t expecting anyone. And you have no business here.’

  ‘On the contrary. I’m here to preserve your reputation and stop you making a complete fool of yourself. If you had any sense, you’d be grateful.’

  ‘Perfectly true.’ Rockliffe’s tone was grim. ‘I am not so easily trapped, believe me. And young ladies who depend on these little schemes are apt to acquire a certain type of reputation.’

  ‘It’s not true!’ Diana’s control was slipping and her voice rose accordingly. ‘She’s a lying cat! I was faint and – just for a second – I thought it was Cecily who’d just come in. She’s always following me about. And I don’t need any kind of schemes in order to be married. I’m beau-- ’

  ‘Beautiful,’ drawled Rockliffe. ‘Yes. We know.’

  Diana stared at him out of dangerously narrowed eyes and her hands clenched on her satin skirts. Then, sweeping round to Adeline, she said furiously, ‘This is your doing! You’ve been saying things, haven’t you? Things to poison him against me.’

  ‘I think,’ observed Adeline, ‘that it might be as well if we permitted his Grace to return to the ballroom so that you can lose your temper in private.’ And to Rockliffe, ‘Your absence will be noticed. And I can deal with this.’

  He directed a swift, measuring glance at Diana and then said, ‘You’re sure?’

  ‘Yes. She’s going to make a complete exhibition of herself. It’s what she does. So it’s best that you go.’

  Acknowledging the sense of this, he said, ‘Very well. But first I think I must take this opportunity of clarifying a few matters for Mistress Diana.’ He paused, waiting for the girl to meet his eyes and then continued blandly, ‘During the course of our brief acquaintance, you have successively pursued me, coquetted with me, thrown yourself at my head and attempted to compromise me. I have responded to none of these and, indeed, have come only to deplore your upbringing. You are – as you are only too well-aware – an uncommonly beautiful girl but you are also spoiled, selfish and rude. Consequently, the chances of you receiving an offer of marriage from me – regardless of any circumstances you may have contrived – are, and always were, completely non-existent. I trust that makes the position plain?’ And without waiting for a reply, he strolled unhurriedly to the door, delaying only to say urbanely, ‘My compliments on your appearance, Mistress Kendrick. You look both elegant and charming.’