Her heart sank. More secrets. Everything in her recoiled from the thought and she said protestingly, ‘We can’t. It wouldn’t be right. She’s his sister. And, anyway, he’d find out.’
‘Not necessarily – and it’s a risk I’d like to take. If the worst happens, I’ll take the blame and you can say you knew nothing about it.’
‘Why why, Harry?’
‘Because if he’s told, I suspect he’ll send her to Lucilla. And that would do more harm than good.’ Setting down his glass, he reached out to clasp her hand. ‘I know it’s a lot to ask but – if not for Nell’s sake – do you think you could please do it for mine?’
She looked back at him, a prey to conflicting emotions. Finally she said reluctantly, ‘I can’t pretend to like it … but I suppose you may have a point. Tracy isn’t … he isn’t in the best of moods right now and Nell’s folly isn’t likely to improve that.’
He gave a long, slow sigh of relief.
‘Thank you. And if there’s ever anything I can do for you, don’t hesitate to ask,’ he said, taking her hands. ‘Those aren’t just empty words, my dear. I mean it. If you ever want an adopted brother, I’m your man.’ And, leaning towards her, he kissed her cheek.
The door opened and Rockliffe came in.
For a moment, there was utter silence. Then, ‘Dear me,’ drawled his Grace. ‘I had no notion that you were visiting us this evening, Harry. Never say that I am interrupting something?’
‘No.’ Harry released Adeline’s hands and looked at the Duke with no hint of discomposure. ‘And you know better than to suppose it. I brought Adeline back from Lady Crewe’s and was just bidding her goodnight.’
‘I had thought,’ remarked Rockliffe, his gaze dwelling reflectively on his wife, ‘that you and Nell were sharing Isabel Vernon’s carriage this evening. My lamentable memory, no doubt.’
‘Not at all.’ Adeline could feel her colour rising but managed to keep her voice level. ‘Nell had a – she’d twisted her ankle so she couldn’t go … and then the ball was so very dull that I decided to leave early.’
‘And Harry was most fortuitously on hand to escort you.’
‘Yes.’
‘I see.’ The dark eyes took in Adeline’s blush and the half-full glass of brandy before smiling at his lordship with deceptive blandness. ‘It seems that I am in your debt.’
‘By no means. The boot’s on the other foot, I fact,’ replied Harry, trying hard to banish his sudden sense of unease. ‘I seem to recall losing some three hundred guineas to you at basset earlier this evening.’
‘Ah yes. So you did.’ Rockliffe continued to smile but the glint in his eyes was far from reassuring. ‘One can’t have everything, after all. And lucky at cards, unlucky in love - isn’t that what they say? So no doubt the reverse also holds true.’
~ * * * ~
EIGHTEEN
In all his thirty-six years, the Duke of Rockliffe had never before had reason to suppose himself a fool – but he was beginning to do so now. Common sense told him that there was nothing save friendship between Adeline and Harry; and yet finding them together had filled him with a distressingly primitive desire to throw Harry bodily from the house and then put an end, once and for all, to the four-month-old charade between himself and Adeline. The first of these impulses faded fast enough; the second didn’t … and, during the course of the white night that followed, seemed only to grow stronger. And that wasn’t merely worrying – it was a problem.
He had never been a possessive lover nor known what it was to be jealous and each of his affaires had been conducted with the lightest of touches. But that was gone now – destroyed by the bitter-sweet smile of a woman who might never care for him the way he cared for her and to whom he had promised more patience.
Patience? When he had just discovered himself prey to the same lack of control he’d always deplored in others? Rockliffe stared up into the darkness and swore gently. There was only one way that offered any guarantee and it was the very last thing he wanted. Damn.
Damn, damn, damn.
He debated the matter carefully before finally reaching a decision that, in the end, was mostly based on the possibility that, this time, she might just miss him.
‘I am afraid,’ he announced calmly over breakfast, ‘that I have to go to Paris.’
They were alone – Nell, not surprisingly, having failed to put in an appearance. Neither did Rockliffe miss her. All his attention was given to the upsurge of hope produced by the stricken look in Adeline’s eyes.
‘Paris?’ she echoed faintly. ‘Why Paris?’
‘A trifling matter of business concerning a property I have there,’ he replied smoothly. ‘I should not be away much more than a week. Two, at most.’
Exactly as he had intended, Adeline recognised the lie and was scalded by it. She forgot her first sickening jolt of fear that this sudden decision of his had some connection with her mother and knew only that a black band of pain was settling round her heart. She swallowed and, assuming a mask of cool indifference, said carelessly, ‘I see. And will you be leaving today?’
‘It seems likely – unless, that is, you have some objection.’ Ask me not to go. Be as oblique as you like … but ask me not to go. ‘Have you?’
‘None at all. How should I?’ What would be the point? You’re only going in order to get away from me - and I can hardly blame you for that. ‘I shall be perfectly all right. So there is no need to delay – or, equally, to return any sooner than you wish.’
The dark eyes regarded her with an expression that defied interpretation and it was a long time before he spoke. He wondered if she had any idea how many ways she had of hurting him. Finally, in a voice as soft as silk, he said, ‘Dear Adeline … always so beautifully direct. But now that you have pointed out that my presence is entirely dispensable, I need have no qualms. You offer me carte blanche; and I, beloved, shall be delighted to accept it.’
And with the slightest and most elegant of bows, he was gone.
*
It was early afternoon before Nell came cautiously downstairs and, when she did, she was still too woebegone to notice Adeline’s strained pallor.
‘Wh-where’s Rock?’ she asked nervously.
‘Gone to Paris,’ came the flat reply. ‘And if you’re wondering whether or not he knows, the answer is that he doesn’t. A fact for which you have Harry to thank.’
Nell sank weakly into the nearest chair and started to cry again.
Adeline stared at her for a moment and then said irritably, ‘Oh – for God’s sake, stop it! What good does it do? You’ve risked your reputation, involved me in a web of deceit and utterly infuriated Harry – and for what? A stupid, childish prank of the kind you ought to have out-grown years ago.’
‘I know,’ sobbed Nell. ‘I know and I’m so s-sorry. It was a horrid evening anyway and I d-don’t know why I agreed to go in the first p-place. Rock was right about everything.’
‘He usually is. You should know that by now. But it’s no use repining. The best you can hope for is that it doesn’t become common knowledge … and for that, once again, you’ll have to rely on Harry.’ Adeline paused and took a long look at her young sister-in-law. ‘You don’t deserve Harry, you know. He’s probably the best friend you’ll ever have – and a better one than you seem to realise.’
This made Nell dissolve afresh.
‘He – he’ll never forgive me. I know he won’t. I d-didn’t know could be so angry.’
‘No? Well it’s always seemed to me that there’s a lot you’ve never noticed about him,’ responded Adeline, coming wearily to her feet. ‘And I still don’t know what on earth you saw in Jasper Brierley.’
Nell shuddered and then brightened a little.
‘Harry knocked him down,’ she said wonderingly. ‘That was rather splendid of him, wasn’t it?’
‘Yes. And it will be even more splendid if he doesn’t end up fighting a duel as a result of it.’
‘Oh!’ For onc
e in her life, Nell was struck by reality rather than romance. The dark eyes became perfectly stark and she said oddly, ‘I didn’t think of that.’
‘No.’ Adeline gazed astringently back at her. ‘That’s your trouble, Nell. You never think at all.’
*
The whispers started three days later and Harry, with his ear firmly to the ground, was the first one to hear them.
‘It’s not Ansford’s doing,’ he said grimly to Adeline. ‘He was so frightened I’d blame it on him that he was on my doorstep at virtually the crack of dawn to swear his innocence. He says – and I believe him – that we have Carlotta Felucci to thank.’
‘Who?’ she asked blankly.
‘Carlotta Felucci,’ He met her eyes squarely but with faint discomfort. ‘She’s a singer. She was also, once upon a time, Rock’s mistress.’
‘Oh.’ Behind her stiff taffeta bodice, Adeline’s insides lurched unpleasantly and she had to work quite hard at not letting it show in her face. Of course he’d had mistresses – probably quite a number of them. What had she expected? How else had he learned how to make a woman want him with no more than a look or make her bones melt with a single kiss? She said colourlessly, ‘That would explain it, I suppose. But what do we do now? Brazen it out?’
‘Yes. There’s not much else we can do. And if we do it well enough and are really lucky,’ said his lordship sourly, ‘we may even get away with it. Enough, at any rate, for the gossip to die down before Rock gets back from Paris.’ He paused, frowning a little. ‘What’s he gone there for, anyway? Not that I’m not glad of it – because I am. But why Paris?’
‘Why not?’ came the would-be flippant reply.
Harry’s frown deepened and the blue eyes expressed concern.
‘Have you two quarrelled?’
‘Something like that.’
‘Want to tell me about it?’
‘Yes. But I don’t think I will, if you don’t mind.’ She summoned a bleak smile. ‘The faults are all mine, Harry. And even if they weren’t I don’t talk about my husband to anyone. Not even you.’
*
The business of brazening out Nell’s indiscretion was made a little easier by the fact that Sir Jasper Brierley had taken to the heather in Bermondsey and was therefore not available for comment. But the whispers and sideways glances were still unpleasant enough to teach Nell the full extent of her folly and, after attending a ball where she spent quite half the evening sitting conspicuously at Adeline’s side, she was ready to die of mortification.
As was to be expected, the main task of denial fell to Harry and he handled it with an adroit blend of incredulity and amusement that served to convince the gentlemen at least. Then - unasked and unmasking - Isabel Vernon, Serena Delahaye and Dolly Cavendish also set about squashing the rumours … and gradually the scandal began to lose its bite and subside.
Worn out with having to hold her head high and simulate ignorance, Nell waited humbly for Harry to thaw – and, in doing so, made a startling discovery. It was, quite simply, that no one else’s opinion mattered a jot and she would not care that the entire world refused to speak to her if only Harry would smile. But he didn’t smile … or not at her. Instead, he preserved a chilly front, danced with her only out of duty and then went away to flirt outrageously with Diana Franklin.
Diana, whose season had somehow failed to live up to expectation, was enjoying every moment of Nell’s discomfiture. It almost made up for the shock of learning that plain, freckled Lizzie had not only reached the altar ahead of her but would henceforth take precedence over her in her own home. Horrid fears had begun to assail Diana of late; fears of returning unbetrothed to Oxfordshire. It didn’t seem possible that it should be so … but she had so far received not one offer of marriage and, among her côterie of admirers, the best prospect was now Lord Harry Caversham – a bitter blow when she had hoped, at the very least, for an Earl. She could not understand what she was doing wrong. She was beautiful, everyone said so – and she knew exactly how to drive a man to distraction. So how was it that the flirtatious banter and odd snatched kiss never led to a proposal?
The result of all this [not to mention Lady Miriam’s increasing impatience] was that she tried extra hard to captivate Lord Harry whilst joining gleefully in the gossip about Nell. She introduced the topic at every opportunity, added several small gems to the general speculation and was finally unable to prevent herself crowing. It was her misfortune that she did it within earshot of Adeline and Harry.
‘They’re doing their best to hush it up, of course – but I don’t think many people are fooled. Poor Nell’s been noticeably lacking in partners recently, hasn’t she? One could almost feel sorry for her – except that, being the sister of a Duke, she plainly thinks she can get away with anything.’
Her Grace the Duchess of Rockliffe was wrenched temporarily free of her own private hell and, eyes darkening, prepared to descend on her cousin.
‘No.’ Harry’s hand closed lightly on her elbow. ‘No. Leave it to me, will you?’
Adeline looked at him and was surprised by the concentrated implacability of his expression. ‘Why?’
‘Because I’m already dealing with her in my own way. All you need to do is sit back and watch,’ he said. And strolled away to bow extravagantly over Diana’s hand before leading her into the dance.
Slowly, an incredible suspicion took shape in Adeline’s mind. It rather looked as though Harry Caversham – who everyone agreed had the sunniest and most open of natures – was deliberately setting out to raise false hopes in Mistress Di’s egotistical breast for the twin purposes of teaching her a well-deserved lesson whilst simultaneously making Nell jealous.
‘Simple, yet masterly,’ thought Adeline appreciatively. ‘I hope it works.’
‘I hear you are once more a grass widow, my dear,’ said a feline voice beside her. ‘You must have been careless indeed if Rockliffe has tired of you so soon.’
Adeline froze and felt the all-too-familiar churning start again in her stomach. Finally, she said distantly, ‘You’re back. What a shame. I was rather hoping you’d break your neck whilst riding ventre à terre after Andrew and Lizzie. How are they, by the way? Suitably sundered?’
‘Hardly. It was much too late for that.’
‘Good.’ If only she could keep him talking, perhaps he wouldn’t say anything else to terrify her. ‘Lizzie has character and Andrew does well for himself. Left alone, I imagine she might be the making of him.’
‘Very possibly.’ Richard Horton spread his chicken-skin fan and plied it with apparent languor. His mood, however, was decidedly grim – having recently come to the conclusion that his little ways at the card table were gradually becoming common knowledge. He had no hesitation in blaming Rockliffe for this and even less in deciding that Rockliffe’s wife should be the one to pay for it. ‘I did not, however, join you to discuss Andrew … but to inform you that I stand in somewhat urgent need of five hundred guineas.’
She stared at him for a moment and then managed a seemingly careless shrug. ‘Why tell me?’
‘Because you are going to provide them for me.’
‘You think so?’
‘I know so.’ He smiled at her over the fan but his eyes were hard. ‘Otherwise I am afraid … I am very much afraid that I shall have to seek an interview with your husband. He wouldn’t, I feel sure, wish the world to know what a sorry mésalliance he has made. And, on top of this scandal involving his sister and Jasper Brierley, it really would be altogether too much – don’t you agree?’
*
Two days later she paid him and, although she knew that she was sinking deeper and deeper into the quagmire, she also knew that she had no choice. Aside from the business of her mother, Richard was now also threatening to tell Tracy about Nell’s indiscretion. And, if that happened, Harry and Nell would be in as much as trouble as she herself was.
This time she’d been forced to get the money from his Grace’s secretary and, though
Matthew hadn’t demurred, his surprise had been so obvious that she’d found herself stammering an excuse about unfortunate losses at cards and thinking that, not for anything, could she bring herself to do this again. And that was when she had the idea.
The following evening saw her in the select establishment of one Maria Denby where gambling of all kinds was the order of the day. It was all quite respectable – even fashionable – and she met several people that she knew. What she hadn’t anticipated and could have done without was to see Jack Ingram walk in just as she sat down to play ecarté.
His brows lifted a little at the sight of her but he greeted her pleasantly enough and then took a seat at the same table. Adeline could have screamed with vexation. She had done reasonably well at basset and was hoping to multiply her winnings – but Jack’s presence seemed to destroy both her concentration and whatever luck she’d had. At the end of an hour she was back where she had started and, at the end of two, fifty guineas worse off. The risk of going on was too great. Smiling as though it didn’t signify a scrap, she signed a vowel and rose from the table. Jack followed her.
‘Come on,’ he said comfortably. ‘I’ll take you home. And then, if you like, you can tell me all about it.’
‘All about what?’ asked Adeline coolly when they were settled in the carriage. ‘There’s no harm, surely, in my taking the fancy to play a hand of cards?’
‘None – if that were solely the case. The harm comes when you do it because you need to win.’
Her breath leaked slowly into her blue satin bodice.
‘Good heavens! What makes you suppose that?’
The grey eyes took on a rueful gleam but his smile was kind. ‘I’m no gamester, Adeline. Rock would probably tell you that I haven’t the right instinct for it. But I’m not exactly green either … and I know the difference between playing for pleasure and playing for profit.’ He paused and then said delicately, ‘I don’t wish to pry … but I presume you’ve some debt or expenditure which you feel Rock wouldn’t approve of?’
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