*
Back in the ballroom, Rockliffe did his duty by Lizzie Pickering, watched young Mr Franklin imbibing vast quantities of wine and exchanged a few words with Harry Caversham on the subject of Nell’s sudden switch to chill formality. And, throughout it all, his mind was almost wholly taken up with a picture of Adeline standing framed against the dark wood of the book-room door. He gave himself a mental shake and decided that the week he’d spent in this house had damaged his sanity. There was no other explanation.
It was while he was soliciting Cecily Garfield’s hand for the next minuet that he saw Diana come back. She was flushed and there was the merest suggestion of dishevelment about her person. But it was her face that drew the Duke’s attention. She looked, he thought, like a cat who had just killed one bird and was already stalking another. Of Adeline, there was no sign at all.
He told himself that there could be no harm in satisfying what was really no more than idle curiosity. Then, excusing himself from Cecily, he retraced his steps once more to the book-room. He did not notice that Richard Horton was watching him whilst simultaneously preparing to cross-examine his niece. There was, after all, no reason why he should.
He found Adeline standing as if carved from stone, her head bent and her hands resting on the edge of Sir Roland’s desk. Her hair, once so carefully arranged, was falling loose about her face and the blue gown bore every appearance of having been so savagely torn that one sleeve was completely adrift. Rockliffe, who was rarely angry, experienced a gust of pure temper and, shutting the door with a snap, exorcised it in a manner equally rare. He swore.
Pushing back her hair, Adeline raised her head and managed a crooked smile. ‘Just what I was thinking myself. It’s Lizzie’s dress, you see.’
‘Is it? Then Lizzie goes up in my estimation.’ He crossed the room and, taking her shoulders, turned her to face him. It was the closest he had ever been to her and he was aware of a faint, almost indiscernible scent of something he didn’t recognise. Doing his best to ignore it, he said, ‘I need not ask, of course, how this happened. You’d better get those scratches attended to. The claws of a wild animal are frequently venomous, I believe.’
She raised her hands to the torn bodice and discovered that they were shaking.
‘It’s nothing. I’m perfectly all right. It’s just the gown. I don’t know what to tell Lizzie.’
‘The truth?’
‘I can’t.’
‘No? Then allow me to do it for you.’ He drew a long breath and, releasing his clasp on her shoulders, perched himself on a corner of the desk. Sternly forbidding himself to dwell on the interesting view provided by the ruined dress, he regarded her out of hooded eyes and said, ‘I suppose you know that your cousin is a candidate for Bedlam?’
‘She – she’s always had an awful temper but I’ve never seen her quite so wild. She was beside herself.’
‘That, my dear, is glaringly obvious. The question is – why?’
‘Who knows? Something I said – something you said – possibly even something Cecily Garfield said.’ The trembling was no longer confined to her hands and she said irritably, ‘If you want to help, I’d be glad if you stopped asking pointless questions and tried to find some pins. I need to get back to my room and I can’t cross the hall looking like this.’
‘No?’ He awarded her a swift, audacious smile. And then, ‘No. Perhaps not. It wouldn’t do for poor Lewis to see what he’s missed, would it?’ And, rising, he began a systematic search through the drawers of Sir Roland’s desk.
Adeline watched in silence and tried to re-assemble her composure. She was more shaken by Diana’s attack than she was prepared to admit and it did not help that Rockliffe was being so kind. She looked at him now – magnificent in black brocade heavily laced with silver, his hair thickly powdered and confined at the nape by narrow velvet ribands. He was the epitome of sophistication … assured, worldly and far too attractive for her peace of mind. He was also easily bored, prone to mischievous whims and often deliberately provoking. And yet, though she knew all the arguments for keeping him safely at arm’s length, they apparently were not enough to prevent her trusting him. She wished she knew why.
‘I make your uncle my compliments,’ said Rockliffe, producing a small box. ‘I fear my own escritoire is less well equipped. However … if you will stand still, I shall attempt the necessary repairs.’
Her brows rose. ‘You?’
‘Why not? You can scarcely to it yourself, after all … and my skill may surprise you. I am not entirely lacking in versatility, you see.’
Adeline saw. ‘Or practice, it seems.’
His mouth curled.
‘Or practice,’ he agreed imperturbably. And then, continuing his task of pinning her sleeve back in position, ‘May I at least ask why Diana was permitted to emerge unscathed?’
‘What would you have done? I was intent only on self-preservation and not alerting the whole house. I doubt, though, that she’ll do much dancing tonight.’
‘Oh?’
‘No.’ She met his eyes and her face was suddenly transformed by a wickedly slanting smile. ‘I’m afraid I stamped on her foot. Hard.’
Rockliffe stood very still, his fingers resting against the satin skin of her shoulder and a coil of her hair brushing his wrist. Again, that enticing, indefinable scent reached him, sending a clear signal to every nerve in his body; a signal that, this time, he found himself unable to completely resist. He said, with commendable restraint, ‘Did you? My congratulations.’ And then broke all his sterling resolutions to drop a light, fleeting kiss on her lips.
Adeline drew a sharp, startled breath. But before either of them could speak, a purring voice from the door said, ‘Well, well - one knows not whether to be touched or shocked. The only certainty, my dear Mistress Garfield, is that we intrude.’
It was Richard Horton, a satisfied smile on his painted face and, beside him, Cecily Garfield with her eyes on stalks.
‘Hell,’ murmured his Grace softly, ‘and damnation. Twice in one evening?’ And gave way, reluctantly, to ironic amusement.
Able to see the funny side but unable, as yet, to appreciate it, Adeline had no more colour to lose.
‘Stop it,’ she said flatly, ‘and tell him to shut the door.’
‘The damned door,’ corrected Rockliffe. He had stopped laughing but it seemed to her that little devils danced in his eyes. ‘No. I rather suspect that – this time – that horse has bolted.’
‘Look!’ crowed Cecily gleefully and with volume over the encroaching strains of a minuet. ‘Her dress is all torn. What do you suppose has been happening?’
‘Something which I not only refuse to sully your ears with,’ replied Mr Horton smoothly, ‘but which, I must confess, astounds me.’
‘How awful! I can’t imagine what Di’s going to say.’
‘Oh – I think you probably can,’ said Rockliffe sardonically, his mind busy with the various possibilities. Richard Horton cheated at cards and could be silenced. But no power on earth was going to silence Lewis Garfield’s sallow-faced sister; she was enjoying herself too much. On the other hand, the ramblings of an over-excited schoolgirl did not particularly concern him. He said, ‘Tell me something, Mr Horton. Did Diana send you here?’
‘Diana? No. Though it is true that the poor child seems somewhat … upset.’ Richard paused artistically. ‘But no. I came, one might say, purely by chance as escort to Mistress Garfield – with whom your Grace was engaged to dance.’
It sounded plausible enough but Rockliffe didn’t believe a word of it.
‘He knows,’ said Adeline tonelessly. ‘He’s spoken to Diana and he knows exactly what happened. But, for reasons of his own, he’s going to encourage Cecily to think exactly what she’s thinking. Aren’t you, Uncle?’
‘Whas goin’ on?’ demanded the slurred accents of Andrew Franklin. He had arrived to lean heavily against the door-jamb behind Cecily. ‘Why’s everyone in here ‘stead of the ballroom
?’
Rockliffe re-seated himself on the desk and folded his arms.
‘What a pity that fellow Sheridan isn’t here,’ he drawled. ‘He could make a play out of this.’
‘It’s not funny!’ snapped Adeline. ‘Why don’t you do something? Tell Cecily the truth before this whole farce gets completely out of hand.’
‘Too late, my dear. Here is your aunt … ah – and Diana. Almost the whole cast, in fact.’
‘I’m glad you can be so philosophical. Don’t you care?’
‘You mean am I panic-stricken. And the answer to that is no.’
Lady Miriam had sailed into the centre of the room and came to an abrupt halt, her gaze fixed on Adeline.
‘What,’ she asked glacially, ‘is the meaning of this?’
‘I hardly dare say, my lady,’ volunteered Cecily, without noticeable hesitation. ‘But you can see the state of Adeline’s hair and gown for yourself. And when Mr Horton and I came in, she and the Duke were kissing!’
There was a long, fragile silence during which his Grace reviewed his options. There were three. What he could do; what he probably should do; and what he wanted to do. He was still reviewing them when her ladyship said carefully, ‘Am I to understand that your Grace is responsible for – for my niece’s present reprehensible appearance?’
‘Well that would depend on whom you ask,’ he replied reflectively. ‘You might, for example, try asking Mistress Diana. But I, personally, would be extremely surprised if she told you.’
The cold gaze swivelled to Diana, standing transfixed beside Cecily in the doorway.
‘Well?’
For a moment, Diana appeared to be at a loss. Then she said chokingly, ‘I don’t know what he’s talking about. It – it’s perfectly obvious what’s been going on between them. And I, for one, think it’s disgusting!’ And, pushing both her brother and Mistress Garfield aside, she fled.
His balance already precarious, Andrew slithered slowly down the wall and sat on the floor. No one paid the remotest attention.
‘I am waiting,’ announced Lady Miriam, ‘for an explanation.’
‘Yes. I daresay you are.’ Rockliffe came collectedly to his feet and faced Adeline. He was in the grip of a mood of dangerous exhilaration and it showed. He said, ‘I think it’s time we put an end to this. Don’t you?’
‘By all means,’ came the acidulous reply. ‘It’s what I’ve been suggesting for the past ten minutes. But I don’t see, now, how you expect to achieve it.’
‘Don’t you?’ He trapped her eyes with his own and his smile was one she had never seen before. He said, ‘It’s really very simple. I’m going to marry you.’
~ * * * ~
EIGHT
The silence that followed this announcement was of cataclysmic proportions. Then several things happened at once.
Andrew began to sing a particularly bawdy song but was summarily cut off as Cecily tripped over him in her haste to break the news to Diana; Lady Miriam and her brother both began talking at the same time; and Adeline disgraced herself still further by dissolving into helpless laughter.
This had the immediate effect of silencing her ladyship and Mr Horton as they stared at Rockliffe, searching for signs of affront. There were none. His Grace merely studied his snuff-box with a thoughtful air – and waited.
Finally, when Adeline’s paroxysm had dwindled to the odd gasping sob, he said, ‘Not quite the usual response … but one sees your point, of course.’
‘Wh-what did you expect?’ she asked, with some difficulty. ‘I might have said “My lord Duke – this is so s-sudden!” But then you’d have thought I believed you m-meant it.’
‘I see.’ The dark eyes gleamed. ‘And don’t you?’
Adeline drew a long, steadying breath and pulled herself together. Beneath the laughter was a tiny core of pain but that was for later. She would not think of it now. She said, ‘In a word – no. I could, however, list half a dozen reasons why you said it – but, just now, that would be a trifle tactless, wouldn’t it?’
‘Perhaps … but that need no longer concern you.’
‘I cannot,’ declaimed Lady Miriam, annoyed at being so long ignored, ‘understand any of this. I demand to know what has taken place in this room and whether your Grace can seriously be intending to marry my niece – though a more ludicrous suggestion I have never heard. I wish also to --’
‘Presently,’ said Rockliffe, quietly but with utter finality. ‘I will discuss the matter with you in detail presently. In fact, I look forward to doing so. In the meantime, however, I wish to address your niece.’ He paused briefly. Out in the hall, Andrew was singing again. ‘Mr Horton … perhaps you will now do me the favour of closing the door? I do not, you will notice, ask you to remain outside it.’
‘How very wise,’ said Richard, calmly shutting out Andrew’s ditty, ‘since I have no intention of doing so.’
‘Quite.’ The Duke turned back to Adeline. ‘And now, my dear, let us explode a few misconceptions. You think I suffer from a sometimes questionable and frequently misplaced sense of humour – and you are right. But do you also take me for a fool?’
‘No.’ An arrested expression crept into the aquamarine eyes. ‘No. What are you saying?’
‘I am saying that I have just announced, before witnesses, my intention to make you my wife … and, even as we speak, Mistress Garfield is busy spreading the glad tidings to all and sundry. So if I spoke out of levity, my folly is well-served, is it not?’ He smiled at her. ‘He that diggeth a pit – and so on. There are no loop-holes. None. Nor am I looking for any.’
It was a long time before Adeline spoke and, when she did, her voice seemed to come from a long way off. ‘I still can’t believe you mean it.’
‘Neither can I!’ snapped her ladyship. ‘I can only say that, if his Grace has indeed trifled with you --’
‘The word,’ interposed Richard Horton sweetly, ‘is compromised.’
‘Very well – compromised, then. If he has done so – though I can by no means accept the fact --’
‘Accept it,’ advised her brother again. ‘Look at her. How else do you think she came to look like that?’
‘I was set upon by a wildcat,’ snapped Adeline tartly, ‘and you know it perfectly well. His Grace didn’t touch me. It was Diana.’
‘What?’ repeated Richard, his tone a nice blend of incredulity and amusement. ‘You will have to do better than that, I fear. And as for the question of whether or not his Grace has touched you … Mistress Garfield has already testified to the truth of that, has she not? No, dear Adeline, I’m afraid it will not do. It will not do at all.’
‘I wish you will be quiet!’ said his sister, her annoyance getting the better of her. ‘There is no need for any of this. Adeline is not a school-girl and, if she has behaved foolishly, she has only herself to blame. As for your Grace’s generous offer – it does you credit. But I cannot permit you to make such a sacrifice.’
‘Your ladyship is too kind,’ remarked Rockliffe dryly.
And then, before he could continue, the door burst open again to admit Nell with Harry Caversham hard on her heels.
‘Is it true?’ Nell demanded hotly. ‘Cecily is telling everyone you’re going to marry Mistress Kendrick because – oh God!’ She stopped abruptly, staring at Adeline. ‘Oh God –it’s true, isn’t it?’
‘Yes,’ said his Grace, his gaze resting with lightly-veiled mockery on Lady Miriam. ‘It’s true. And now, if we have established that fact to everyone’s satisfaction, I suggest that you all return to the ballroom and attempt to enjoy yourselves.’
‘That is all very well,’ objected her ladyship irritably, ‘but unfortunately --’
‘Lady Miriam – you have other guests,’ drawled Rockliffe. ‘You should go and attend to them. Furthermore, your son is too drunk to stand and ought, I fancy, be removed from the hall. Mr Horton – who, I suspect, would very much like a private word with you - will doubtless be happy to assist.’
/> ‘Just so. Ecstatic, in fact,’ said Richard, boundless satisfaction informing every syllable. And, taking his sister’s arm, he led her firmly from the room.
‘Why did you do it?’ asked Nell, her eyes suspiciously bright. ‘How can you, of all people, have been so stupid?’
‘Go away, Nell. Console yourself with the thought that, if I am married, you won’t have to stay with Lucilla … and try to mind what you say this evening – particularly within the hearing of Mistress Garfield. None of this is what it seems and it’s by no means the tragedy you appear to think. No – don’t argue. We’ll talk later … but not now. Just go.’
Rockliffe waited while she made a slow and very reluctant exit. For a second, he considered asking Harry to leave as well and then, deciding against it, said, ‘Adeline. Sufficient unto the day, my dear. I’d like you to allow Harry to escort you to your door and then forget everything except the simple fact that I know what I’m doing. Will you do that?’
‘I don’t know.’ She both sounded and looked exceptionally tired. ‘I don’t know. But there’s no need to trouble Lord Harry.’
‘It’s no trouble,’ his lordship assured her. ‘None at all.’
‘Thank you. But I’d prefer, if you don’t mind, to be alone.’ She hesitated, looking at his Grace and the ghost of her customary irony flickered in her eyes. ‘It’s been quite an evening, hasn’t it? But I think you know, without being told, that – though I appreciate you making the gesture – it will be for nothing.’
He silenced her with a faint shake of his head and his eyes still smiled.
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