The Rake's Reflection

by Lesley-Anne McLeod

  It was only then that greetings took place. Delia requested Morag to ascertain when her aunt was awake. As soon as she was, Delia took herself to that lady's chamber, and tapped quietly.

  Lady Barbara herself opened the door and drew Delia into a warm embrace. Her aunt was tall and her face, while not pretty, was comely and mobile. Her hair was a deep auburn and her eyes clear hazel.

  "Dear child." She held her niece away from her. Delia submitted to close examination. "You have been missed. And you look a little drawn. Come," Delia was urged to a sopha near the tall window. "Tell me all. Why has the earl accompanied you, and what is this mystery? And why have your letters been stilted and less like you than I would expect?"

  Delia felt her eyes fill at the dear accents and kind queries. But she had done her weeping in Rupert's arms the night before, and now could answer with some composure.

  "Dearest of aunts, it is so good to be with you. I must tell you all. It is a strange tale." She met the hazel gaze directly. Twisting her slender hands in her lap, she began. "Torgreave is not the fourth earl but the fifth. He is without family but for his brother, and he was not the author of the letter I received in response to mine."

  Lady Barbara said nothing, but covered Delia's restless hands with her own.

  "We were the victims of a well intentioned trick by his housekeeper. For years, the earl has been following a disreputable path. Mrs. Inniskip, having known him since his infancy and desiring to turn him from his dissipation, thought a shock might help." Her aunt was listening attentively, and did not interrupt with useless exclamations or questions. Delia had never more appreciated her calm temperament.

  "However, we all were more astonished than might even have been expected, when I arrived. Rupert and I look remarkably alike." She took a deep breath and stated the core of the problem. "We think we must have a familial connection."

  The older woman frowned at that suggestion. "He is of course more youthful than we had supposed?"

  "No more than nine and twenty although you might think him older."

  "And how remarkable is this resemblance?"

  "I had as well look in the mirror," Delia stated.

  Her aunt was at last surprised. "Then I had best meet him, before we discuss anything further," said her ladyship.

  Rupert awaited both ladies in the drawing room, with a degree of trepidation unusual to him. He had breakfasted in his chamber while staring through the window at the green dome of St. George's Church across the Square. He had paced the drawing room for several minutes since his arrival there. Now, deep in thought, he flexed his shoulders in the uncomfortable restriction of his beautifully tailored coat of Bath superfine.

  His was now the disadvantage under which Delia had suffered for the past two months. He was the newcomer in a strange environment, the object of suspicion and disapprobation. He understood her sentiments better for being now in the same position. He again paced the cream and gold chamber restlessly, only pausing when the door opened.

  Upon her entry, Delia smiled at him, the same smile he had given her when she met Charles. It was one containing a mix of encouragement and support. Another lady entered quickly. Rupert bore her assessing gaze equably, and returned it curiously.

  After what seemed a very long time, she spoke. "Exceptional best describes your resemblance, I believe."

  Lady Barbara appeared calm and sensible, thought the earl with relief.

  "I do think however that it lies mostly in the colouring." She drew Delia forward and placed her at Torgreave's side. "Those blue eyes and the hair resembling black silk. They cannot be denied. But the noses and chins are dissimilar," she pointed out the differences with satisfaction.

  She walked away from them, and then turned to consider again.

  Delia's hand sought Rupert's arm for support.

  He offered it readily.

  "The disparity between dissipation and innocence is the most remarkable divergence," Lady Barbara concluded.

  Torgreave flushed uncomfortably, like a schoolboy.

  Delia hurried into introductions. "Aunt, this is Rupert Manningford, fifth Earl of Torgreave. My lord, my aunt, Lady Barbara Lochearn."

  Lady Barbara waved the earl to a chair, and drew Delia to sit beside her.

  Rupert watched them narrowly, and found a family resemblance in the ladies' faces.

  "And so, dear child, you arrived in London, discovered the trick, and the problem. What then?"

  "We have spent two months trying to determine the cause of it," Delia sighed.

  Rupert spoke for the first time, laying the bare facts before Lady Barbara. He was very aware of his own very English, accent against the slight Scots burr of the ladies. "We know only that our fathers were friends in their youth. We think we must share a parent, and we think it must be my father. It seems likely that the fourth earl and Lady Tyninghame encountered each other at some point in 1794. But we have been unable to ascertain if our parents visited each other. And we have been unable to confirm our suppositions."

  He suffered Lady Barbara to survey his elegance and sophistication. He was not disconcerted.

  "And you hope Edinburgh may hold some answers?" she asked.

  "I thought perhaps..." Delia began, "Oh, I cannot see that it will, now that I am returned. Few people here knew my father...Lord Tyninghame..." she corrected herself with an anxious sigh. "Mama is gone..."

  Her agitation was evident, and Rupert stirred in his chair. He wished to comfort her, but caught Lady Barbara's eye. He forced himself to calm inaction. He said, "Delia desired to be home. She had a need to show you her problem. Me. The situation could not be described by letter. There is little chance that anyone here will have information, for I understand Lord Tyninghame was a country man. But we undertook the journey anyway."

  "I may be of help...a little help," said Lady Barbara slowly. "I find I am overwhelmed by the discovery that my sister might have been unfaithful to her husband. In all appearances in later years she was devoted to him. Yet, I can recall a time early in their marriage when they were not happy."

  Delia's eyes widened. Her aunt patted her hand comfortingly.

  "There were two or three most difficult years. Indeed I remember my sister begging my father to allow her to return to our home. It was not that Lord Tyninghame was brutally unkind or difficult. He simply had no care for her, and no interest in their marriage. He enjoyed his estate, his horses and hunting, his friends and hospitality. He seemed to have no inkling that his wife could demand a modicum of his attention."

  Torgreave found himself tense in his seat, hoping for a revelation. He was to be disappointed.

  "That is all that I know however. I have no knowledge of their visitors during that period. Tyninghame was not a stupid man, and seemed to grow to appreciate his wife and to recognize her needs. My sister was happier in expectation of your birth. When later your brother and sister were born and tragedy followed, your parents grew closer. I would not have suspected that of which I see evidence before me."

  Delia caught her breath on a broken sob.

  Rupert rose, withholding the frustration and irritation he experienced. "It seems that knowledge of what went on in those years has died with them," he said. "You must wish to converse privately on this matter. If you will excuse me, ladies, I believe I will explore your library if I may?"

  Lady Barbara did not argue with his words. She rang for a footman to conduct the earl. When he had departed, she turned to Delia and said, "My dear child, you have suffered much and had no support but Morag Lochmaddy." She held out her arms, and Delia retreated into her embrace wearily, but without tears.

  "You have done your weeping," Lady Barbara stated.

  "I have," Delia could not admit that it was done in Rupert's arms. Where once she had shared everything with her aunt, there were now things too private for discussion. She murmured only, "It has been so difficult. To believe that Papa was not in fact my father would have been enough, but to think that Mama hid
such a secret for so many years was insupportable. I do think that Rupert is right. To her must be ascribed the weakness. It is impossible to see how his mother and my father could have been involved."

  "I do agree. The added complication is that the fourth earl and Tyninghame were friends. It is not common to cuckold one's closest friends, even in the highest circles." Her aunt's dry humour helped Delia to recover her composure. "You must remember also that you may be wrong, and that you do not share a parent. If however you do, Margaret must have believed you would never discover it, for she would not have wished you to be hurt."

  Lady Barbara tapped her niece's silken cheek gently. "Tyninghame loved you as a daughter, whether or no he was related by blood."

  Delia was faintly frowning. "There is another peculiarity. By Charles' and Rupert's account, the fourth earl was a man of rigid morals and high principles. Such entanglements would have been out of character -- remarkable -- for him."

  Her aunt's face was thoughtful. "You are very familiar with the gentlemen," she reproved, referring to Delia's free use of Christian names.

  Delia coloured. "They seem already like the brothers they appear to be, especially Charles. You must think I should immediately have returned to Edinburgh, upon our discovery. But indeed it seemed necessary to remain to uncover the answer. It cannot be thought improper to visit in the home of one's relative. Few people were aware of my sojourn. I was always veiled when I went abroad." She preferred to leave explanation of the Slimbridges' until another time.

  Lady Barbara queried, "So what you told in your letters of the earl's brother is true, of course. He must also be younger that I would have expected?"

  "Five and twenty," Delia explained, but her aunt seemed to have little interest in Charles.

  Lady Barbara spoke of the earl instead. "Torgreave looks a difficult man. Strong, passionate, dissolute and unhappy."

  Delia was accustomed to her aunt's swift, incisive and accurate judgments of character. She answered the query in Lady Barbara's voice. "The earl has been kindness itself. He has dealt with the matter with utmost delicacy. As his relations with his father were difficult, it has not been easy for him. Rupert has an unpleasant reputation but I have seen naught to disgust me, and much to admire in his actions."

  Lady Barbara did not comment on Delia's enthusiastic defense of the earl, but said, "And if nothing further can be learned here, what will he do?"

  Delia studied the thick carpet beneath her pale slippers. "Return to London, I suppose," her voice sounded oddly constrained, even to her own ears. " We shall have to assume we are siblings. We may forget that each other exists...that our meeting even took place."

  "And while he stays with us?" Lady Barbara was watching Delia's face closely.

  "He will wish to explore the city, for he has not been north previously. We may call him cousin, if need be, as he so called me, in London. He will not wish to be introduced to society. In fact, he is anticipating being an anonymous citizen." Unconsciously her expression softened recalling Rupert's words. "And I have no desire for it to be generally known that I am returned. I have no wish to rejoin the social round presently." Delia looked up to discover concern writ large in her aunt's face.

  "You must not worry, dearest of aunts," she strove for a light note. "I must simply become comfortable with myself again."

  ***

  It took no more than a week for it to become clear that nothing of import was to be discovered in Edinburgh. There were no intimate friends to question. The remaining family, according to Lady Barbara, might be presumed to have no knowledge of the matter. The past had, as Rupert said, died with Lord and Lady Tyninghame.

  "I had as well return to London, or rather Manningford, for information may still be found there," the earl announced one evening as they left the dining room table.

  Though Delia had tried to prepare herself for just such a moment, she was bereft of speech at the thought of his departure.

  "Naturally, you must do as you think best," Lady Barbara said after a moment's silence. "For myself I can think of only one more course of action. I shall invite myself to Carvosway and see if there is aught to discover there. There may yet be one or two old servants with long memories."

  "Carvosway? Delia's old home?" the earl frowned in quick concentration.

  "Carvosway House, near Biggar," confirmed Lady Barbara. She surveyed the two handsome faces so alike.

  "I could accompany..." Delia began.

  "No you could not." Lady Barbara interrupted. "If either or both of you descend upon the district, gossip will be rife. You must remember that young Lord Tyninghame's wife is a tattlemonger. You must leave it to me, but I cannot know when I shall be able to invite myself without arousing suspicion." She moved to mount the stairs to her chamber, and looked back over her shoulder. "Now I must prepare for Lady Dunkeith's rout. You will of course do as you wish, my lord. You are welcome to remain here. Or if you choose to return to your home, I...we...shall certainly advise you of anything we discover."

  Delia was so busy considering her aunt's words that she scarcely noticed that Torgreave had drawn her hand within his arm. He led her into the library.

  "Do you think that my aunt may discover something at Carvosway?" she queried when he had shut the door behind them.

  He was sombre, and retained hold of her slender arm. Her gown of Sardinian blue lustre left her arms bare but for her slender gold bracelets. His fingers were cool and strong on her skin. "It is always possible, but when? I must return to Manningford within the week. I wish you will come with me."

  Delia's eyes widened on his fine features. She withdrew from him, moving a little away. "No, I will not. I will stay here, in Edinburgh," she stated. A needle-sharp pain pierced her breast at the thought of separation from him.

  "You cannot! Do you not see? We must know the truth!" he snapped. He crossed to the opposite side of the room.

  She was glad of it, for he had looked as if he might take her in his arms. She did not think she could place any dependence on her own restraint. "I agree," the cry came from her heart. "But you cannot need my assistance at Manningford. We are better apart."

  "Better?" he snarled the question. "Or safer?"

  She inhaled a shivering breath. "We may never know how your father and my mother came together, but we are the proof of its happening."

  "Not necessarily. Your aunt has told you of knowing cousins so similar as we are. She has told you of your mother's early unhappiness in her marriage. Manningford may hold answers for us. And there is still my uncle. Augustus could yet be the key."

  For the first time since she had met Rupert, he was vital and energetic. He looked only his nine and twenty years, not ten or more older. His vehemence swayed her, but still she protested. "If I stay here at home, we may put it behind us. It will not matter in a year or two. We shall not meet again. We may go about our lives as cousins or siblings, separated by the length of the country, uncaring."

  "Can you do that?" His voice was intimate, and magnetic.

  She could not avoid his intent and beautiful eyes.

  "Can you watch me walk away -- ride away -- forever?" he asked.

  Her own sapphirine eyes filled with tears. "Don't! Do not utilize your arts of seduction on me!" Her voice rose.

  "I would not," he swore.

  He crossed back to stand before her. "I would not demean you so; and I would not be other than honest with you. I must know the truth of this matter, for I cannot leave you, cannot be parted from you, unless I must."

  Delia's anger dissipated as quickly as it had risen. She stared at him, with her hands at her slim throat. She was horrified but not repelled by his words. She recognized with stunning immediacy that they echoed her own tangled emotions. Her hands went out to him, then dropped when he stepped back. She understood. They could not be apart, but they could not risk contact.

  "I will come to Manningford," she whispered."I...I will speak to my aunt," she said and hurried from the r
oom without looking at him again.

  * * *

  "Dearest Aunt, We are returned to Manningford. Although you did not Concur with my reasons for yet another journey, I am glad to have seen this House. Rupert's homecoming has been Affecting, and Charles is so happy. I shall maintain a Sense of perspective and I depend upon your Support."

  CHAPTER SIX

  The journey to Leicestershire was considerably more difficult, both physically and emotionally, than had been the expedition to Edinburgh. The occupants of the coach were, at the same time, both more and less comfortable. Although the weather had moderated and the bitter cold was gone, the coach lurched and lumbered over the perilous roads.

  The trio was as well more silent and more thoughtful than on the journey north. Disappointment and devotion seemed to haunt Torgreave, and Morag Lochmaddy's disapproval was palpable.

  The memory of her last conversation with her aunt lingered in Delia's mind. Lady Barbara had been dissatisfied with her niece's decision to return to Manningford with the earl. "There can be no future in it," she had said firmly and calmly. "I cannot imagine that you will discover anything at Manningford to assure you that you and Torgreave are not siblings."

  Delia's heart had ached. Never before had her aunt's opinion disagreed so markedly from her own. "We may find something," she had protested. Her aunt only echoed her own words to Rupert of a day early.

  "Any affection, or attraction, between you might be of a narcissistic nature," her aunt stated. She ventured to speak of that which Delia could not bring herself to contemplate at length.

  "It is not a question of affection," she had denied vehemently, "but a question of truth. We would resolve the mystery of our resemblance."

  "Really? It does not require you both at Manningford, to pursue the truth," Lady Barbara had pointed out the obvious. "You may discover more here."