*
Half an hour after Jack had taken his leave, Diana bounced in upon her mother and sister with an armful of parcels.
‘What a morning I’ve had! I’ve worn myself to the bone searching for just the right shade of ribbons to replace those on my satin-straw and still haven’t found them. But I did see the most delicious bonnet in Madame Tissot’s and couldn’t resist buying it; and I got a new pair of shoes so they can be dyed to match my new gown.’ Sitting down with her booty scattered around her feet, she looked pettishly at her mother and added, ‘But I do wish you’d permitted me to go to Phanie, as I asked. Her gowns are by far the most stylish – and no one who is anyone goes to that stupid Miss Wood.’
‘As I have pointed out on numerous occasions,’ replied her ladyship repressively, ‘our resources are limited. It is a case of one gown from Phanie or three from Miss Wood. Now Diana – I wish you will cease fidgeting for there is something I must tell you’
‘Oh?’ Engaged in trying on her new shoes, Diana sounded less than interested. ‘What?’
‘Mr Ingram has this morning asked for Thea’s hand and I have given my consent to it. In short, they are betrothed.’
Diana’s head jerked up. ‘What? I don’t believe it!’
‘Then you had better try. It will be announced in the Morning Chronicle the day after tomorrow.’
Uniquely, Diana was dumbstruck for several seconds. Then, two bright spots of colour burning in her cheeks, she said fiercely, ‘No! I won’t have it, do you hear? I won’t have it!’
‘You have nothing to say in the matter.’
‘I don’t care.’ Diana came abruptly to her feet and, finding she had on only one shoe, wrenched it off and sent it hurtling across the room. ‘I won’t have Thea betrothed before me. I won’t!’
‘On present showing,’ replied her mother acidly, ‘if we wait for you, we’ll wait forever.’
‘That’s not fair. I will get a husband – you see if I don’t!’
‘And who, precisely, did you have in mind? You let Rockliffe slip through your fingers and, since coming to London, have signally failed to attract any gentleman of consequence.’ Lady Miriam’s gaze was icy. ‘Althea, on the other hand, has succeeded in making a very satisfactory match. Not brilliant, perhaps – but certainly more than respectable. And I have no intention whatsoever of allowing you to spoil it, Diana.’
‘Then put a stop to it,’ snapped Diana, mercilessly shredding her handkerchief. ‘They can be betrothed later – at the end of the season, perhaps. I don’t care. But I don’t want it announced yet. It shouldn’t be announced yet. Mine ought to come first.’
‘But why does it matter?’ asked Althea timidly.
‘It doesn’t,’ said Lady Miriam. ‘And it will be a relief to me to see at least one of my daughters creditably established.’
‘You call this creditable?’ Diana’s voice started to rise. ‘If I couldn’t do better than a mere Honourable, I’d as soon cut my throat.’
‘Di – dearest!’ begged Althea. ‘We all know you can do better than me. Of course we do. And there’s no hurry now, is there? For, if you wish to wait for exactly the right offer, you will be able to come and stay with Jack and me. And I‘m sure you’ll find a husband in no time.’
Had it been uttered by anyone else, the implications of this speech might have been dubious. As it was, Althea meant well; it was not her fault that, to her twin, it was the last straw.
‘How dare you?’ spat Diana. ‘How dare you patronise me, you mealy-mouthed little bore? Do you think I need your help – or the help of that dull, pompous fellow you’ve managed to catch?’
‘He’s not dull!’ Stung, Althea leapt to her feet in defence of her Jack. ‘He’s a dear, kind man and I love him!’
‘Fiddlesticks! You’re just grateful. And so you should be. But I wouldn’t have had him if he’d been the last man on earth. And I could have, you know. Just like that.’
‘No, Di. You couldn’t.’ For the first time in her life, Althea faced her sister without fear. ‘The truth is that Jack doesn’t like you very much and never has. So it’s probably just as well that you won’t want our help … because I daresay he’d rather not have you in his house.’
And, so saying, she walked calmly to the door and went out.
For perhaps a minute there was utter silence. Then, rising to fix her erstwhile favourite with a basilisk stare, Lady Miriam said flatly, ‘You asked for that. If you’ve shown this side of your nature to the gentlemen, it’s no wonder you’ve received no offers. Your temper is quite deplorable. And, if you’re not careful, it will be your undoing one of these days.’
Then, following in Althea’s wake, she too left the room.
There is no point in having hysterics without an audience and the scream Diana had been preparing died in her throat. Staring unseeingly down at the litter of shopping, she thought numbly, ‘Thea is betrothed. Poor, timid Thea who’s always been my shadow – is betrothed. How Cecy Garfield will laugh!’ It was not to be borne. Something would have to be done … and there was only one possibility. Very slowly, she sat down and began assessing her chances of bringing Harry Caversham to the point.
*
Rockliffe dined at White’s that evening and then, meeting the Marquis of Amberley, moved on with him to the Cocoa-Tree where, as luck would have it, they were presently joined by Mr Ingram and Lord Harry.
‘Well!’ exclaimed Harry with dry humour. ‘Am I allowed to sit down – or had I best take myself off to the other room?’
‘That,’ replied his Grace, ‘rather depends on what you want to talk about.’
‘Oh – I’ll be dumb, never fear. Though it would be a damned sight easier if I knew exactly what’s eating you.’
‘What is all this?’ asked Lord Amberley, laughing. ‘Do you know, Jack?’
‘It looks,’ observed Mr Ingram, ‘rather like a quarrel.’
‘Lord, no! Nothing of the sort,’ said Harry, seating himself. ‘You have to talk to each other for that.’
‘I thought you were to be dumb?’ enquired Rockliffe sweetly. And then, ‘I suppose you’ve been to the Portland’s ball?’
‘Yes.’ Having discovered from Nell that, though his Grace had been uncommonly angry, he had not spoken of banishment, Harry felt safe in offering a little provocation. ‘I thought Adeline was in quite her best looks – didn’t you, Jack?’
Faintly startled, Jack busied himself pouring wine and wisely said nothing.
‘Indeed?’ The Duke’s gaze continued to rest on his lordship while his hand toyed idly with a pack of cards. ‘Then I am surprised you did not choose to remain … in order to escort her home.’
Amberley’s brows rose. ‘My God!’ he thought. ‘If that’s what’s in the wind, Harry had better be very careful.’
Harry, belatedly recognising the expression in the dark, heavy-lidded eyes, thought so too. Changing tack, he said, ‘And spend another hour tripping over Diana Franklin every time I turn round? No thank you! The girl’s like a confounded bloodhound.’
Jack looked up. ‘Serves you right for encouraging her.’
‘Oh – that. It was only a flirtation, you know. And I never expected to wake up one morning and find her attached to my shirt-tails. I felt dashed ridiculous this evening. Anyone would think she didn’t have other fish to fry.’
‘Perhaps she hasn’t,’ grinned Amberley. ‘Or none so eligible.’
Harry laughed. ‘Thank you.’
‘I happen to know,’ said Jack, who had been patiently waiting for the right opening, ‘that something has occurred to … upset Mistress Di.’
‘Oh?’ asked Harry. ‘What?’
‘I believe I can guess.’ Rockliffe gave his peculiar glinting smile. ‘My felicitations, Jack.’
Mr Ingram coloured faintly and then laughed.
‘Damn you, Rock! May a man not even announce his own betrothal?’
‘Betrothal?’ Harry sat up straight. ‘You sly dog, Jack! Never s
ay you’ve done it at last?’
‘Yes. I have. And thought to surprise you all.’
‘Surprise Dominic,’ advised the Duke. ‘He’s as much in the dark as you could possibly wish.’
‘More,’ complained the Marquis. ‘Who is she, Jack?’
‘Althea Franklin,’ smiled Mr Ingram. ‘The gentlest and most beautiful girl I ever saw in my life. And also – as Harry is itching to tell you – the bloodhound’s twin sister.’
~ * * * ~
TWENTY-ONE
The rift between the Duke and Duchess of Rockliffe showed no sign of mending … mainly because, with no solid ground to rely on, neither of them knew where to begin. He was wary of inviting another rebuff; she was devoured by guilt at her other, more significant deceit. And the result was a chilly state of impersonal courtesy that excoriated them both and, in time, gravely concerned their friends.
At a saner level beneath his involuntary jealousy, Rockliffe was well aware where Harry’s heart lay and, although this did not help him in his dealings with Adeline, it did make it possible for him to tacitly heal the breach with his lordship.
‘But he made damned sure I wouldn’t dare ask any awkward questions,’ confided Harry later to Nell. ‘Gave me the sort of smile you usually see over a yard of steel and advised me – ever so gently, mind – not to meddle. Then he showed me his newest snuff-box.’
Nell nodded, frowning a little.
‘Adeline won’t discuss it either. She simply looks straight through one and says something cutting.’
‘Don’t I know it! But though I daresay the root of it is that they’re both too stiff-necked to make the first move, it don’t make me feel any better. For, whichever way you look at it, it’s my fault.’
‘No, it isn’t,’ denied Nell firmly. ‘It’s mine.’
He looked down at her for a moment and then, smiling, took her hand companionably in his.
‘All right. Ours, then. But I still wish Rock would let one of us near him.’
*
As it happened, he was not alone in this wish and the next person to try was the one best equipped to succeed.
‘What’s wrong, Rock?’ asked the Marquis of Amberley simply one evening over a hand of picquet. ‘You can’t keep us all at arm’s length forever. And if you get any more tense, you’ll snap.’
‘I shall certainly snap if I have to endure any more of this kind of thing – however well-intentioned it may be,’ came the caustic response. ‘It’s becoming extremely tedious.’
‘Well, there’s a simple way to avoid further repetitions, isn’t there?’
‘For whose good? Yours or mine?’
‘Oh for God’s sake! Do you have to be so bloody difficult? I’m trying to help!’
‘I’m aware of it. I’d prefer that you didn’t.’
‘You think after all the years we’ve known each other I’m just going to leave it?’
‘Now that would be helpful.’
The Marquis eyed him implacably. ‘What is it? A quarrel you can’t mend?’
‘First Jack and now you,’ sighed his Grace. ‘Why does everyone think me so quarrelsome?’
Laying his cards face down, Amberley leaned back in his chair and fixed his friend with a direct grey-green stare.
‘It’s no use playing off your airs with me, Rock. I’m wise to them.’
‘You are also,’ returned the Duke, ‘annoyingly persistent.’
‘That too.’ There was a pause. Then, ‘It is Adeline, isn’t it?’
‘And tactless – and intrusive – and cocksure.’
‘Isn’t it?’
‘All right!’ Releasing a sharp breath of pure irritation, Rockliffe flung down his cards. ‘All right. It’s Adeline. Are you satisfied now?’
‘No. Talk to me.’
‘Why? For the good of my soul? I really don’t need this, Dominic.’
‘Yes, you do. You need it very much.’ Amberley met the inimical gaze unwaveringly. ‘What’s the problem? Is it just a quarrel? Or have you begun to wonder – now that you have her – whether you were not a little hasty in leaping into wedlock?’
Quite slowly, the dark eyes filled with bitter amusement and then the Duke said mockingly, ‘Dear me … how very banal of you, my loved one. I’m disappointed.’
‘I take it I’m wrong, then?’
‘You are. Indeed, I may truthfully say that you were never more so.’
The derisive quality of Rockliffe’s irony was not lost upon the Marquis. He considered it for a moment and then, eyes widening with incredulous realisation, he said, ‘Oh Christ. Are you telling me that, despite marrying her for just that reason, you’ve still not -- ’
Rockliffe stood up with a force which almost overset his chair.
‘No. You may not have noticed … but I have been endeavouring – for the last ten excruciating minutes – to tell you nothing at all,’ he said.
And walked out.
*
In her turn and with rather more success, Adeline fended off a similar approach from the Marquis’s wife. Then, entirely without pleasure and purely in order to occupy her mind, she set about planning her promised party. That it would be narrowly preceded by the most glittering event of the season bothered her not at all for she was neither aiming to compete with nor eagerly anticipating the Duchess of Queensberry’s ball. To her, it was just another interminable function at which she and Tracy would have to maintain the polite fiction of not being strangers. And, but for Nell, she would not even have ordered a new gown.
‘Wear your blue silk?’ echoed that lady aghast. ‘You can’t! Everyone’s seen it!’
‘So?’
Nell opened her mouth, closed it again and took a long, calming breath.
‘You don’t understand, Adeline. This isn’t any ordinary ball. People sell their souls for an invitation. And those who get one don’t go in a gown they’ve worn at least three times before.’
Adeline eyed her sardonically.
‘That must be a boon to the mantua-makers. Or does her Grace claim a percentage?’
‘That,’ said Nell severely, ‘is not funny. Now … will you please stop arguing and come with me to Phanie’s? Or do you want Rock to be ashamed of you?’
And that, of course, was not only unanswerable but also responsible for Adeline choosing to buy the exquisite but criminally expensive peacock shot-silk.
*
For almost a week, nothing much changed.
Congratulations poured in upon Jack and Althea; Diana fermented with jealous rage even before she’d been forced to put up with Cecily Garfield’s spurious sympathy; and Harry, finding himself suddenly under hot pursuit, took to lurking in lonely antechambers – as often as not, with Nell. Rockliffe, meanwhile, remained scrupulously polite to Adeline in public and equally scrupulous in avoiding her at home … and Adeline, drowning in an ever-deepening well of misery, tried to comfort herself with the view that matters could not possibly get any worse.
Then several things happened at once.
It was the evening of Lady Lacey’s rout-party and, for Adeline at least, the auspices were bad from the moment she came downstairs to find that she had misjudged her timing and arrived before Nell. His Grace, formidable in bronze watered-silk with gold lacing, accorded her the most elaborate of bows and then proceeded to conduct a leisurely head-to-foot appraisal.
Adeline set her teeth, aware that he was being deliberately provoking. Finally, he said languidly, ‘You look charming, my dear – as always. And you are wearing the aquamarine set, I see. How delightful! They remind me so irresistibly of our wedding-night, you know … and, if it was not plainly a silly question, I am almost tempted to ask what they remind you of.’ He smiled blandly and then, looking past her, ‘Ah – Nell. At last. Perhaps now we can go?’
After such a beginning, Adeline’s expectations for the evening ahead were naturally low – but not, as it transpired, low enough. At the very first opportunity, Richard Horton materialised at her
side and purringly demanded another five hundred guineas.
Adeline’s skin turned clammily cold and there was a distant roaring in her ears. Willing herself not to faint, she said baldly, ‘No. I can’t go on with this.’
‘As I see it, you’re in too deep to do anything else,’ came the smooth reply. ‘And with your noble husband somewhat less than attentive these days, I’d say it was a little late to confess all and throw yourself on his mercy – wouldn’t you? Then again … if you daren’t tell him yourself, you can’t afford to have me do so, can you?’
She stared at him, racked with nausea. And then, unevenly, ‘You think you have it all worked out.’
‘And have I not?’ He smiled again, reading the answer in her face. ‘Five hundred, Adeline … in time for the Queensberry ball, shall we say?’
She continued to gaze defeatedly at him until, from somewhere inside her, she found enough energy to say, ‘If – if I agree to give you the money, it will be for the last time. And I want my mother’s letter.’
Richard laughed softly.
‘All in good time. Bring me the money … and then we’ll see.’ Upon which he strolled unconcernedly away.
From a position just out of earshot yet close enough to study Adeline’s face, Jack Ingram watched with increasing grimness. Then, crossing to her side and registering the helpless blankness of her expression, he said quietly, ‘Come with me. You look ready to collapse – and you can’t do it here.’
Unresistingly, she let him lead her to a curtained alcove and press her gently down on a small sofa. With growing concern, Jack thought she resembled nothing so much as a glassy-eyed doll. He said, ‘Adeline, my dear – what is it? What did he say to you?’
‘He wants five hundred guineas,’ came the courteous, mechanical response. And then, as if the mere effort of speaking had jerked her from the lethargy, the blankness vanished and, drawing a ragged breath, she said, ‘Oh God. Forget I said it.’
The grey eyes narrowed and it was a moment before he replied. Then he said reasonably, ‘Did I not suspect that it’s not the first time, I might perhaps try. As it is, I don’t think I can.’ He paused briefly. ‘This is it, isn’t it? The reason you tried to win money at cards rather than ask Rock for it?’
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