by Joan Smith
“About getting your parents together,” he said. “It would be helpful if your father knew your mama was seeing Cousin James tonight.”
She peered up from her cup. “Yes, but how will he find out? It is a private party.”
“Someone would have to tell him.”
“Mama does not let us call on him.” She looked hopefully to Revel. “He is staying at the Pelican.”
“Are you suggesting I—”
“Oh, no! No, indeed. It is just that there is no one else, Revel.” She peered at him expectantly. “And it would be so very helpful if he could know about it.”
“To drop in out of the blue and just announce my aunt is holding a party and he is not invited? Well, it would look odd. In fact, it would look demmed provocative.”
“Yes, you must be more subtle than that,” she agreed.
“I have not said I would go!”
“Oh, I thought when you spoke of the subtlety required, you were planning how to approach him. I am sure you could do it in a manner that did not provoke him. But I am not asking you to do it.”
Her eyes were not only asking but demanding.
“Perhaps if I just loitered about the lobby until I chanced across him and mentioned it ... It might take hours!”
She gave him an arch smile. “Or you could tell Esmée.”
“I do not see Esmée.”
“You said you parted friends.”
“I’ll loiter about the lobby of the Pelican,” Revel said, defeated.
“Thank you, Revel,” she said, and patted his hand for being such a good boy. “It must have been unpleasant for you to swallow your pride and admit you were behaving so shabbily. I appreciate it. Really you are not at all as bad as everyone says.”
“I should like to know who this everyone is, who has such a poor idea of my character.” His first spate of vexation changed to amusement as he watched her. “I take leave to tell you, Tess Marchant, you are a deal worse than society knows.” She smiled her forgiveness. “Furthermore, the new bonnet is as like the old one as two peas in a pod. Why don’t you buy a more dashing one? I have my reputation to consider.”
“There is no hope of making a silk purse of this sow’s ear, Revel. When we have got my parents together, you must find yourself a diamond of the first water, to reestablish your reputation to its usual heights.”
She drew her book forward and opened it. Before long, she had begun reading, forgetting all about her escort.
Revel opened his Italian book. As he could not read it, he contented himself with looking at the pictures. A smile formed on his lips as he admired the sketches of full-bodied Italian temptresses. After ten minutes, Tess noticed what he was up to.
“The Italian comes back to you, does it?” she asked.
“Mmmm. Very interesting. Mind you, I do not grasp every word.”
“A good thing a picture is worth a thousand words.”
He noticed then that the page he was studying lacked any prose and hastily closed the book. “Some very fine artwork here, too. Titian, I believe.”
“Very likely,” she said, with a knowing laugh.
When their tea was finished Revel took Tess home and drove to the Pelican. The taproom was preferable to lurking about the lobby. At five-thirty, he spotted Mr. Marchant coming in and strolled casually out to meet him. Revel seldom had trouble making conversation, but he knew this one was going to be rough going.
“Mr. Marchant,” he said, feigning surprise. “Nice to see you again. Are you enjoying Bath?” He noticed straightaway that Mr. Marchant was not looking his usual dapper self. His face was drawn and his shoulders sagged.
“A cruel question, milord. I think you must know the misfortune that has befallen me.”
“Tess mentioned it. I am very sorry ...”
Marchant sighed wearily. “Tell her, Tess I mean, that it is all over with Mrs. Gardener. Tess will tell her mama. I have behaved like a fool, Revel. A man of my years should know better.”
To agree, although he did agree, would sound surly. To disagree would encourage the fellow to continue on his foolish path. Revel made noncommittal harrumphs. Eager to get away, he wanted to deliver his message as soon as possible.
“I must be getting home,” he said, glancing at his watch. “My aunt, Lady Corbeil, is having a little rout party this evening. Mama and myself will be there, and of course my cousin James. The Marchants are invited.”
Marchant looked at him with interest. “That is very kind of you, lad. Lady Corbeil, eh? I don’t know that I dare to attend. Lou might dislike it, but I will think about it. Very kind of you to drop by and invite me. Very kind.”
Revel stood with his jaw slack, wondering how this awful misunderstanding had arisen. Yet it was only too easy to understand. He had been waiting at Marchant’s hotel, and had come darting forward the moment he arrived to announce his aunt’s party. What else was the poor man to think? Revel was too much a gentleman to rescind what had been taken for an invitation, yet for Marchant to turn up at the do uninvited was surely worse.
“I quite understand your reluctance,” he said. “I shall be happy to— That is, I will deliver your regrets.”
“Nor it is not a firm refusal. I shall think about it. Lord James will be there, you say?”
“Yes, he is definitely attending.”
“It could be awkward.”
“Very awkward. Perhaps it would be best if I deliver your regrets.”
“Still, a man must eat humble pie from time to time, when he has eaten forbidden sweets first. I shall attend, Lord Revel. You may count on my presence. Most obliging of you.” He bowed and took his leave, while Lord Revel stood aghast at what he had done.
Chapter Eleven
Lyle Marchant was not a modest man, nor a pessimist. Yet neither his pride nor optimism quite convinced him that Lou was at the bottom of this invitation, much as he would have liked to believe it.
It was pretty clear to him that young Revel’s was the hand at work here. Revel wished to make an offer for Tess; he could not like to choose his bride from a scandal-ridden family. Therefore he was trying to patch the marriage up. He had done his best, poor fellow, but it was not within Revel’s powers to keep Lady Corbeil’s own kin away from her party. Lord James would be there, and Revel had come to warn him of it.
Demme, they were all civilized people. He would be a perfect pattern card of civility to all his potential in-laws, even including Lord James. And while he was about it, he would continue to pursue his wife. Lou could hardly throw a jug at his head at a polite party. He sent off his acceptance, which threw Lady Corbeil into quite a tizzy.
Revel knew he had failed miserably in his execution of Tess’s errand. His instinct was to send Auntie Corbeil his own regrets and head off for London. Yet to send Tess and her mama off to that do without warning of the disaster awaiting them was unconscionable. He would go and confess to Tess, and let her and her mama decide what course to take.
He arrived at Bartlett Street just as the ladies were going abovestairs to dress. “That will be my corsage!” Tess exclaimed, and waited below till Crimshaw answered the door.
“Revel!” she said, and went rushing forward when she heard his voice.
“May I have a word with you, Tess?” he said, and herded her into the saloon. “The worst thing has happened.”
She was disappointed to see no corsage. “If you are going to tell me you have the sniffles again, Revel, it will not fadge. And furthermore, that is not the worst thing that could happen.”
“Sit down, my dear,” he said, with a weak smile.
She remained standing and observed him suspiciously. “Did you speak to Papa?”
“Yes.”
“Good. I assume from the hangdog look of you that you managed to turn the meeting into a disaster. Pray how did you do that? What happened?”
“I—” He stopped, conning his mind for the least damaging words to employ.
“Revel! You didn’t hit him...
?”
“Good God, no. We had a friendly chat. The thing is, Tess, he somehow got the notion he is invited to the rout party, too, and he plans to attend.”
She blinked and was silent a moment. “I don’t see how he could think anything of the sort when he knows Mama is going with Lord James,” she answered testily.
“She is not actually going with James.”
“They will meet there. It amounts to the same thing. I am sure Papa will not come.”
“I am sure he will,” he said, and sank onto the edge of the sofa without realizing he did it.
“Did you invite him?”
“Not intentionally.”
“Oh, Revel, you gudgeon! I should have known better than to use you on such a delicate errand.”
He jumped to his feet. “Well, upon my word! This beats all the rest. I told you it would be impossible.”
“You did not. We agreed you must use subtlety. How could you make such a botch of a simple errand? Really, Revel, I thought you were up to all the rigs. You are a complete clunch.”
“I know it,” he said simply.
Even the most wealthy, handsome, titled, and sought-after gentlemen carry at the bottom of their hearts some vestigial memory of childish incompetence. When the string is plucked, they revert to guilt and uncertainty. In Revel’s case, it was only his mama who could stir these uncomfortable sensations; but Tess had unintentionally, and without her own awareness, discovered his secret. It is part and parcel of the situation that the ghost from the past must be appeased, to prove the wrongdoer’s worth. “I am very sorry, Tess,” he said humbly.
“You had best sit down, till we think what can be done about it.”
They sat side by side on the sofa. “I don’t suppose you could talk your mama into staying at home?” he suggested.
“You might as well ask a dog not to scratch his fleas. She has been looking forward to the party all day. Would Lord James agree—?”
“No point even asking him. He is the most selfish thing in nature.”
“A family failing, no doubt,” she said acidly. Revel’s backbone arched at her tone. “Well, I must warn Mama, and just hope for the best. You must speak to Lord James—ask him not to dangle after Mama too assiduously. Can I trust you not to make a botch of it? Tell him Papa is an excellent shot.”
“Cousin James has a few notches in his pistol,” Revel replied.
“If this comes to a duel, Revel, it will be entirely your fault.”
Revel’s fit of guilt was fast evaporating as emotion gave way to reason. “You are the master planner, Tess. I am merely your aide-de-camp. We share the blame, but the major part is yours.”
“I had thought men always took the blame for a lady’s little peccadilloes. Or is that just gentlemen?”
“If you wish to use a lady’s prerogatives, you should act like one. Your behavior throughout this entire ordeal has been that of a shrew.”
She rose haughtily. “If we are sunk to calling names, there is nothing more to be said.” She waited for him to recant, but he just glared. “You will speak to Lord James?” she asked, or commanded.
Revel stood up. “He might take heed, if the request came from you.” He stopped and stood a moment, staring into the moldering flames of the grate. “By Jove, that might do it!”
“What do you mean?”
“You! Lord James will be delighted to have an excuse to dangle after you. He has no real interest in your mama since he learned Northbay is entailed.”
“I don’t want your horrid cousin dangling after me.”
“You don’t want a scandal or a duel, either. We must all make some sacrifices, Tess. I see a further benefit in this scheme as well.”
“Well, I do not!”
“That is because you are selfishly thinking only of yourself. You must have noticed your mother—and your father, too, now I think of it—are beginning to harbor some idea that you and I are altar-bound. You promised to be the jilter,” he reminded her. “Tonight could very well provide the basis for our pending quarrel.”
“Who would believe I’d favor Lord James over you?”
“God knows you haven’t shown any fondness for me.”
“But he’s old and poor. And besides, he is Mama’s flirt.”
“Do you want to avoid a duel or not?” he said, choosing the most menacing words he could find.
“Of course I do.” She looked at him crossly. “Very well then. I shall pretend to receive his attentions with pleasure, but you must warn him it is all playacting. I don’t want him dangling after me later.”
“I’ll call on him now. I must warn Aunt Corbeil as well. What a troublesome wench you are, Tess Marchant. I used to think you were one of those dull, well-behaved girls.”
She glared. “I daresay that is why you never once, in all the years we have been neighbors, invited me to any of your parties.”
“I seem to recall seeing you at our balls at Revel Hall.”
“Yes, your balls, where you ask everyone, even the beadle. You never asked me to any of your private parties, when you had the smarts and swells from the city. Not that I would have accepted,” she added hastily.
“That was remiss of me. I expect I thought you too slow, but I see you would have fit in remarkably well. You have given me a more proper appreciation for dullness and respectability these past few days. When this fracas is over, I mean to find me a pretty violet, blossoming unseen deep in the country, and marry her.”
“Then leave her in the country, while you dash off to take your pleasures elsewhere.”
“Precisely, but I shall take care to see she is placed in water and tended carefully.” He bowed and left, feeling he had had the last word.
He did wonder, though, how it came he had not invited Tess to any of his private parties. How she would have enjoyed making fun of his friends. He would invite her to the next one, now that he was coming to know her better.
Over dinner, Tess told her mother and Dulcie the news. Expecting an outburst from her mama, Tess was amazed when Mrs. Marchant fell into a pensive silence. As is so often the case after a prolonged bout of marriage, Mr. and Mrs. Marchant thought alike in many matters. It didn’t take the dame long to figure out that Revel was trying to bring herself and Lyle together. What reason could he possibly have except that he meant to offer for Tess?
“Revel thinks your father will attend?” she asked coolly.
“Yes. Do you think it wise for us to go, Mama?” Tess asked hopefully. Her mother’s calm demeanor gave rise to the possibility of staying home.
“I hope we can both behave like decent parents in public. Of course we shall go, Tess. It is clear to me now that Revel arranged this whole party to bring your papa and I together, and of course to introduce you to his family. We must keep a solid front until you have him shackled.”
“You are quite mistaken, Mama. Revel and I are only friends,” she protested.
“I have often thought a marriage of convenience would suit you, Tess. And of course it is the only kind of marriage for a fellow like Revel. He would not want the inconvenience of being in love with his wife.”
“It sounds horrid,” Dulcie said.
“Goose! I used to feel the same way when I was a child, but I have come to see the error of my ways. Marrying for love is a grave error. Of course I would not force my daughters to marry where there was an actual aversion, but then you and Revel are good friends, Tess, so it will work out fine.”
Tess saw that Lord James might prove useful after all. She could pretend to be in love with him, which would perhaps convince her mama to take her home to Northbay. But why did Mama think a marriage of convenience would suit her?
“I think a marriage of convenience sounds horrid, too,” Tess said. “I would hate it of all things. To be married to Revel, while he ran about the countryside chasing girls.” She would kill him, that’s all.
“I do hope you are not falling in love with him, Tess,” her mother said sharply. “
There is nothing more likely to put him off.”
“Of course I am not falling in love with him.”
Yet she felt a prickling of hot anger when she thought of Revel chasing other girls. She was obliged to put it down to outraged morality. It was morally wrong for married men to desert their wives and act as if they were still bachelors.
Before the ladies left, a whole bevy of corsages arrived, and the ladies fell on them with glee. “How pretty!” Dulcie squealed. “I never had a corsage before. Mine must be from Mr. Evans. I didn’t know he was invited.”
Mrs. Marchant read the card and reached for the one orchid. The others were rosebuds. “They are not from Mr. Evans, dear. They are all from Lord Revel. Oh, the orchid is for you, Tess.” She was annoyed, until she realized the significance of sending Tess the superior corsage. “And you say there is nothing between the pair of you! I swear you are full of surprises.”
“It’s purple,” Tess said, looking at it askance. “It doesn’t match my blue gown.
“Not purple, dear,” Mrs. Marchant pointed out. “It is nearly white, just tinged with violet at the heart. You can slip upstairs and change your gown if you don’t think it suits.” Meanwhile she held the orchid up to her own pomona green gown, which it suited very well. “The white rosebuds would look well with your blue gown, Tess.”
“Yes, I shall wear the white rosebuds,” Tess said, and arranged them on her bodice. That would show Revel what she thought of his gift. She wore a scowl when they left the house, and was determined not to enjoy her evening one whit.
Chapter Twelve
"By Jove, I will be very happy to oblige Miss Marchant, Revel,” Lord James said when Revel called to empty his budget. “This will make the lady smile on me more softly, eh?”