Feeling slightly better for the release of tears, Karen stepped into the gown and shift laid out earlier by Lucy and accepted Amanda’s help with buttons and laces. The stiffness in her leg had eased, and only her headache and scratched hands reminded her of her recent ordeal.
She looked at Amanda with affection. It helped a lot that she had taken the revelation with composure, and was prepared to listen further. Life had taught Karen the danger of taking an almost perfect stranger into her confidence, and she could only think that Amanda’s sincerity had been the key. Sybilla’s kindness, while very welcome, had not led to immediate trust. Maybe it had something to do with Lady Oriel being a perfect old horror. A few maternal genes must surely have been passed along during Sybilla’s conception.
‘Thank you, Amanda. Let’s sit by the fire and I’ll try to explain as much as I know. Lord Antony will be home at any minute, and I’ll have to go down and face him.’
Shrewd brown eyes searched her face. ‘’Tis clear that you do not enjoy a good relationship with his Lordship. Forgive me, my dear Caroline, but rumor has it he has every right to be angered by his wife’s conduct.’
‘I’d gathered as much. But as I’m not his wife, it’s hard to accept censure. I find myself wanting to deliver a few home truths about his treatment of his wife. She’s probably been driven to play up by his own beastly conduct.’
‘Beastly! Surely, you cannot mean…? He has not offered you violence, Caro!’
Karen laughed, a little bitterly. ‘He doesn’t need to. He has a tongue like a scorpion’s tail. Oh, Amanda, it’s such a mess. I can see that while I occupy this body no one will believe I’m not Caroline Marchmont. It’s not reasonable to expect it. But I’m honestly not her. Can’t you tell from the way I speak that I’m not one of you? I don’t use your idiom. I don’t recognize anybody. I can’t even find my way around London, a city I’ve lived in for years.’
‘I believe you.’
‘What?’
‘I believe that what you tell me is quite possible. There are so many things for which we have no explanation – matters which reach beyond the world we know. In the planes of existence that lie beyond, who knows what natural laws might be suspended? The phenomenon of time itself could be non-existent.’ She smiled at Karen’s astonished expression. ‘I am a student of the occult science, and I am perfectly sure that there is a way to assist you in your dilemma. If I cannot do so, there will be another who can.’ She raised a warning finger as the maid entered the room. ‘This is not the time for discussion. If I mistake not, your husband has returned and is calling for your presence.’ She raised an eyebrow and Lucy bobbed in Karen’s direction.
‘His Lordship awaits you in the book room, my lady.’
‘Thank you, Lucy. I’m coming now.’ When the door had closed behind the maid she turned to Amanda. ‘I hope you meant what you said, about believing me.’ She searched the other woman’s face, seeking reassurance. ‘You’re not simply humoring a crazy woman who has lost her memory?’
Amanda clasped hands with her. ‘Caroline – I must continue to address you by that name – I give you my word that you may trust me. You are, however, in a difficult, perhaps even a dangerous position. Allow me to offer a modicum of advice.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘We must instantly slay these rumors of madness. Loss of memory is permissible, although within certain bounds, and within the confines of this house. Socially it would damn you. Should you fail to recognize one of the Royal Dukes, as an example, and your bow lack the correct degree of deference, no amount of later explanation will see you forgiven. Now, if the notion pleases, I shall undertake to instruct you in the niceties of social conduct, impart to you the names of persons of rank, and those you must be seen to recognize and treat with the proper observance. I shall take you about until you are familiar with your surroundings, and in general become your guide and mentor as you launch yourself once more into the ton.’
Karen paled. ‘I couldn’t! I’d fall flat on my face the first time I tried to fool anyone. I’d rather be thought mad.’
‘Caroline, you have no understanding of the horrors of being locked away as a lunatic in this century. You have enemies, or rather, the Lady Caroline has enemies who would be delighted to see her removed from her present social eminence.’
When Karen would have pursued this, Amanda shook her head and drew Karen to her feet, draping a warm shawl across her shoulders and handing her a pair of mittens to hide her damaged hands.
‘There is no time. You will not wish to add to Lord Antony’s ire by keeping him waiting. Muster all the energies of your character, my dear, and go to beard the lion. I shall call upon you tomorrow.’
Donning the awful hat and coat that transformed her from a normal young woman into a bloated red sausage, she accompanied Karen down the stairs, fare-welling her in the main hall.
Here Karen hesitated. A footman sprang to open the doors to her right, then closed them behind her. Antony Marchmont stood by the fire, his arm resting on the mantelshelf as he gazed into the flames. He seemed lost in thought. For an instant Karen saw him as others must, a well set-up man, tall and muscular, his profile cut sternly but beautifully. Yes, in a dark, almost saturnine way, he was good-looking, if the total assurance in every line didn’t set up your hackles and make you long to bring him down to ordinary mortal level. Jove, indeed!
A gust of sleet hit the windows, rattling like a drum muffled in velvet draperies. It broke into his thoughts. He looked up at Karen, and she braced herself.
‘So, you have returned.’
‘Yes. I had no other choice.’ She shivered and made herself approach the fire. How did people stay warm with such unsuitable clothing in such vast rooms?
He moved aside so that she could have the full benefit of the warmth, but she was conscious of him standing close behind her. Was he furious? She couldn’t blame him, if he’d been out searching for hours in deteriorating weather.
Pulling the shawl tight around her shoulders, she faced him. ‘I’m sorry I caused so much trouble. I hope you were not caught in the sleet.’
‘Thank you. I returned before the worst of the storm.’ He moved to a nearby table and poured from a decanter into a crystal glass. ‘You will oblige me by drinking this. Your cheeks are too pale.’
She accepted the glass in something of a daze. Where was the biting tone, the barked order for an explanation? Raising the glass she sipped the brandy distastefully, knowing it would help bolster her courage, if nothing else.
Then she set the glass down and clasped her hands together under the shawl. ‘We should talk.’
‘You echo my sentiments, madam. Pray be seated.’
Taking chairs on either side of the hearth they faced one another in wary silence until Karen could endure it no longer.
‘I was forced into it. I know it was cowardly to run, but I simply couldn’t take any more unanswerable questions. My memory –’
Ah, yes,’ he broke in. ‘Your inconvenient memory loss. It explains much, but not all. This tale you tell, this fantastic farrago of coming from another time… It will not do, Caro.’ He spoke heavily, as if more weary than enraged. ‘I know your love of fantasy. I have good cause to know, have I not? Your romantic escapades are becoming a matter of public interest. But this is going too far. I have the name to consider.’ He closed his eyes briefly, then looked at her again, this time with the more usual hardness in his eyes. ‘I want your pledge, Caroline, that you will cause no further embarrassment with your imaginings. We are, unfortunately, tied together in this life. I will never permit divorce to sully my house, and I have already warned you of the dreadful consequences to yourself should you persist in exhibiting all the symptoms of lunacy. I must have your bond of good behavior.’
She met him stare for stare, but inwardly she flinched. There had been a threat in those last words, a note of warning that reminded her how she’d been found at the foot of a staircase, bruised from a
nkle to waist.
‘I see. In other words, I conform to your notions of a well-behaved wife.’
‘You have grasped my intention exactly.’
‘And the “or else”?’
‘Your pardon?’
‘If I don’t conform?’
‘Then I must regretfully restrict your activities, and confine you to your rooms. With your powerful understanding I have no doubt you will grasp the full import of such an embargo. You will be virtually incarcerated for the rest of your days.’
The lack of emotion behind such words filled her with real fear. He could do it, and would do it if she thwarted him. Then she’d have no chance at all of finding a way back to her own time. Her one hope was to go out into the world and look for someone who could help. Locked away at the top of Rothmoor House she’d see no one, and she’d stay there until she rotted.
With as much dignity as she could summon she rose to her feet and moved away towards the end of the room, allowing him to see the contempt she felt but dared not put into words.
‘I will obey you because I must. Your good name will never be brought into question by anything I say or do, and I shall strive to regain my memory.’
He too rose, and bowed. ‘I am delighted that we are in agreement, at last. Yes, Charles?’ He had turned to the opening door before she was aware of a sound.
Charles Hastings didn’t notice her standing in the shadow of a Chinese screen. His naturally solemn expression had not altered, but he said with some excitement, ‘There is an urgent dispatch – ’ He broke off at Antony’s quick gesture.
‘I shall deal with estate business after we have dined, Charles. Will you inform Bates that Lady Marchmont is ready to be served?’
Slightly flushed, Charles slipped the paper he carried into his coat breast and bowed in Karen’s direction.
‘May I say how happy I am to see you have suffered no ill effects from your misadventure, my lady?’
She thanked him just as stiffly, and made herself take Antony’s offered arm as escort. Now she’d have to face a barrage from the obnoxious Lady Oriel, she supposed. At least she would have Sybilla to talk to.
The company assembled in the drawing room all turned to stare as they entered. She was glad to see that most of the guests had left.
‘Well, cousin, you have set the cat among the pigeons this time.’ A totally strange man approached with languid steps and bowed over her hand.
Karen looked from him to Antony in confusion.
Antony murmured, sarcastically, yet with deliberate clarity, ‘You are not asking me to believe you have forgotten Basil Frensham, Sybilla’s twin – a wastrel who waits for a dead man’s shoes.’
Basil stiffened, then shrugged lightly. ‘I fear I was meant to overhear those unkind words. Fair cousin, can you not bring me into favor with your husband? I have done nothing to deserve such dispraise, I assure you.’
‘I will readily believe that you have done nothing to any purpose, Basil,’ remarked Antony.
Observing Basil’s mincing walk, the extravagant cut of his coat and the truly blinding pattern of his waistcoat, Karen classed him as more fop than dandy. His thick black hair could have been cleaner, and she’d been almost overpowered by the mixed wave of body odor and scent as he bent over her hand. She could scarcely believe him to be related to the beautiful, fastidious Sybilla.
Then Lady Oriel descended upon her, a staggering figure in virulent purple, and with an equally virulent temper. ‘My son is voicing the general opinion that you have managed to make a complete fool of yourself, Caroline, and upset the household quite unnecessarily. I should not be surprised to find the dinner uneatable if chef’s nerves have been affected.’
Sybilla said hastily, ‘Pray, Mama, do not be pinching at poor Caro. You know she has been unwell since her accident. Smiling, she offered Karen a welcome conspicuously lacking from any other person in the room.
Karen turned as a voice came from another corner of the room.
‘I trust you are mistaken, my love. If there is one thing I cannot endure it is a poorly cooked dinner.’ A gray-whiskered gentleman whose huge bulk teetered on the hearth, absorbing most of the heat, raised his eyeglass and stared at Karen. She was forcibly reminded of a large, one-eyed walrus, and had to stifle a giggle.
Lady Oriel snorted. ‘George, pray be silent! And Sybilla also. If I wish to express my displeasure – ’
Antony’s voice cut across, clear and unequivocal. ‘You will, I trust, do so in less heated terms, and in private, Aunt.’ He turned to Karen with a slight smile. ‘I see Bates patiently waiting to announce that you are served, my lady. Shall we go in?’
Silently, she took his arm and led the rather formal procession to the dining room. What a strange man he was. Apparently no one but he was permitted to criticize her. She wondered whether he had cancelled his dinner engagement that night to keep an eye upon her, perhaps because he guessed she would need some support? Or had he merely decided it would look bad to absent himself, under the circumstances?
As the footman deftly seated her at one end of the long polished table, she had time to absorb the atmosphere of the room. Like most of Rothmoor House it was lofty, chilly and unwelcoming. It was also as gloomy as a cavern. Branches of candles and a fire battled with the deadening influence of royal blue velvet and heavy Jacobean paneling, not to mention the surfeit of gloomy family portraits peering down their aristocratic noses at the diners. Karen’s spirits sank even lower.
Then the doors opened and the courses began to arrive.
Encouraged by her father from early childhood, she had developed an interest in history, more especially his own field of modern British and European. Her carefully chosen library, housed in the makeshift brick and board shelves of her London apartment, included books on the Regency period, and therefore certain aspects of Georgian life came as no surprise to her. She did not wonder at the quantity and variety of dishes offered at dinner, yet she found such super-abundance nauseating, and could eat little herself. As fish followed fowl, followed by roasts, ragouts and fricassee, each with several side dishes to choose from, she watched the Honorable George and his lady devour everything put before them, swilling down each mouthful with whatever wine was at hand.
They munched their way through vegetable compotes, tartlets and syllabubs, then made their selection from the pastry baskets and sugared comfits, refusing only fresh fruits from the Rothmoor succession houses down in Kent. Karen decided she’d been mistaken. Lady Oriel was more hippopotamus than toad. How could the woman possibly heave herself out of her chair when the time came to move?
Desultory conversation was the order while the serious business of dinner was in hand. However, by the time everything but fruits and nuts had been removed, the talk had become general. Basil’s efforts to interrogate Karen on her afternoon’s escapade were foiled by Antony, who blandly turned the subject as often as it was introduced; and Lady Oriel was too somnolent to bother.
Charles Hastings sat silent and preoccupied, while Sybilla tried to make polite chat – rather difficult when the persons and events alluded to meant nothing to Karen. However, at long last the interminable dinner ended.
Catching Antony’s discreet signal, she gladly prepared to depart the scene. It had been a most uncomfortable meal, and she hoped it wasn’t representative of the norm, while fearing it was. As she rose, so did the gentlemen, although the Honorable George’s sketchy raising of his posterior was more of a gesture. It took two footmen to haul Lady Oriel erect and hold her until she attained her balance. Her face had ballooned, and there was a more than usually malignant look in her eye. As the ladies trailed after her to the withdrawing room, Karen resigned herself to another baiting.
Deposited in the most comfortable chair, feet up on a stool, Lady Oriel took out her embroidery bag and prepared to open hostilities. In this, however, she was foiled by her undutiful daughter. Sybilla took her seat at the pianoforte and began a noisy rendition of Handel’s F
ireworks Music. She played continuously for twenty minutes, and only ceased when the gentlemen appeared, along with the tea tray.
The Honorable George grumbled audibly that the port had circulated only twice. ‘Unheard of! Never known such a thing!’ He subsided in a chair as close as possible to the fire, continuing to mutter to himself.
‘Thank you,’ Karen whispered as she helped Sybilla to tidy the music and lower the piano lid.
Sybilla merely smiled. ‘The tea tray has come in, Caro. You will be expected to pour.’
Karen spread her skirts in the chair before the low table, confident of one expectation she could meet. The only drawback was the proximity of her “cousin”, Basil Frensham. Taking station beside her he proceeded to conduct a gossipy monologue in her ear, obviously under the impression that she enjoyed spiced anecdotes about ladies of society. His whispered tales of peccadilloes varied from innuendo to outright slander, and covered a range of activities from public display of a garter to the more salacious details of sexual romps with footmen and stable boys.
She turned her shoulder to him and tried to engage his father in conversation, but with little success. Having dined and wined far too well, the Honorable George seemed on the point of falling asleep, and most likely into the fire as well, if he didn’t take care.
Basil continued to murmur in her ear. ‘No doubt you have heard of Lady Silerten’s monstrous behavior when she was in the straw?’
Karen set her cup down firmly. ‘No, Basil, I have not. I really don’t care if she did cartwheels in a hayfield. Lady Silerten’s behavior is of no interest to me, and nor are your smutty stories. Please go away.’ She’d have liked to tell him to take a bath, but didn’t quite have the courage. As it was, he gave her an ugly look before moving off in the direction of the decanters.
Karen’s head began to feel peculiar. She felt she was slowly turning on the spot, or else the room was. Pressing her hands against her eyes, she shook her head to clear it.
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