by Mary Nichols
‘What evidence?’
‘Something in a document left by his grandfather, implicating the King and Lady Jersey.’
‘That’s common knowledge. And in any case, I have heard that Brougham is not of a mind to bring counter-evidence.’
‘He might have to. And hearsay is very different from sworn evidence.’
‘And Lavinia is engaging herself to that blackguard. Oh, poor child! Poor Mama! If he does give evidence, it will compromise the Duke’s reputation for impartiality. Can he be stopped?’
‘I imagine he will withdraw the offer to give evidence in exchange for Lady Lavinia’s dowry being paid on the day of her marriage.’
‘Good God! That’s blackmail. I’ll kill him. I’ll run him through!’
‘Calm down, James. So far, Brougham is holding fire. But it does mean Wincote has not been paid for his evidence and must be desperate for money.’
‘No doubt he will let his creditors know that he is to marry Lady Lavinia and they will hold off.’
‘No doubt of it, considering whose daughter she is.’
‘We have to do something. I’ll call the coxcomb out.’
‘And what good would that do? Duelling is against the law for a start and if you killed or wounded him, what would Lady Lavinia have to say to that? On the other hand, you could come off worse and he would still marry her.’
‘You are right,’ he said reluctantly. ‘Though it would give me the greatest pleasure to run him through.’
‘Yes, I know, but I am relying on you to keep your head and your temper. Now, listen to me. About Lady Graham’s necklace…’
‘What about it?’ James was still thinking of Lavinia and it was a moment before he could bring his attention back to what Donald had said at the beginning of the conversation. ‘Made of paste, you said. How do you know?’
‘Because it was offered for sale at a certain run-down jeweller’s shop in a back alley off Oxford Street.’
‘By whom?’
‘I don’t know. The man told the proprietor he had been given it in lieu of a gaming debt. That could be true, of course.’ He laughed dryly. ‘He must have had a shock when he discovered it was worthless.’
‘You are sure it was the same necklace?’
‘Yes, it is very distinctive.’
‘But why was it worthless? We were told it was a family heirloom.’
‘Lord Graham is known to be very low in the stirrups. My guess is that he had it copied and sold the original to pay for that ball.’
‘No wonder his lordship is so distraught and anxious to find it himself. Do you think Lady Graham knows it is paste?’
‘I do not think so. She was genuinely upset when I spoke to her.’
‘What was the reaction of this fellow when the proprietor told him the necklace was paste?’
‘He was angry at first. Then he smiled, murmuring that it was of no consequence, and took it away with him. I’ll wager he means to use it to blackmail Lord Graham.’
‘Much good will it do, if his lordship is as pinched in the pocket as you say he is. Are you going to say anything to him?’
‘How can I? It would mean accusing him of duplicity. It would mortify him to know I knew the truth. And as for Lady Graham and their daughter… No, I shall have to find the culprit and restore the copy to him as if it were the real thing.’
‘I suppose you are right. But do not allow that investigation to deter you from your enquiries regarding Edmund Wincote, will you? Diamonds are inanimate objects, of little importance beside a young lady’s life and happiness.’
Donald grinned suddenly and lightly punched his friend’s arm. ‘And yours, too, I collect.’
‘Yes, well…’
‘Now, shall we have a bite of dinner and a hand of cards to wile away the evening? That is, if you have nothing better to do.’
‘Oh, nothing, nothing at all, my friend.’ He rose and led the way to the dining room.
It seemed Lady Rattenshaw had invited the whole ton to her soirée and most had accepted, probably because they wanted to see inside the house and make up their own minds if she was as rich as she was reputed to be. How was it furnished? Was it full of treasures? Did she employ Indian servants? And both Lavinia and Frances admitted to being as inquisitive as everyone else.
‘You know, I have known Sir Percy ever since I first came out,’ Frances told Lavinia as their town coach carried them to Upper Brook Street. ‘And never once has he mentioned the name of Rattenshaw. I thought I knew all his friends.’
‘Was he one of your suitors?’ Lavinia asked mischievously. ‘Why did you not marry him?’
‘I married the Earl of Corringham instead and never regretted that. But why the quiz?’
‘No reason. I just wondered why people married, what makes a woman—or a man come to that—choose one person above all others. Is it a practical thing like money or is it love? And is love the meeting of minds or is there some complicated chemistry involved?’
‘Oh, my dear.’ Frances laughed. ‘What has brought this on? Could it have anything to do with Lord Wincote?’
‘Partly. You know he has asked me to marry him?’
‘No. When was this?’
‘The other day, after the rehearsal. He stayed behind after the others had gone. And before you say anything, Miss Hastings was there. And James, part of the time.’
‘You don’t mean to say he proposed in front of James?’ the Duchess asked in astonishment.
‘Not quite. But I did not have time to give him my answer.’
‘I should hope not. That is not the way it should be done. Your papa should have arranged the meeting formally.’
‘Do you think that was why James was so angry?’
‘Was he?’
‘Oh, yes, he threatened to call Lord Wincote out.’
‘Foolish, foolish boy.’
‘Mama, you love James very much, don’t you?’
‘Of course I do. Oh, I know he can be tiresome, but he has a heart of gold and would do anything for me.’
‘Does he think he is acting on your behalf when he tries to come between me and Lord Wincote? He said you would never forgive him if he did not watch out for me.’
‘And you find his watchfulness restricting?’
‘Wouldn’t you?’
‘I will speak to him, Lavinia. But I think you should examine your own heart. If you have to ask what love is, then you are not yet ready for marriage.’
‘But Lord Wincote is so sure and very anxious for my answer. And he has not been at all discouraged by Papa’s edict.’
Frances smiled and patted her hand. ‘Vinny, I suggest you tell his lordship that you will give him his answer when this interminable Season is over. When are you going to put on your play?’
‘Not until September. Most of the men will have to attend the trial and that will make rehearsing difficult, so I thought I’d wait until it was over. That is, if we haven’t all melted in the heat by then.’
‘Good. Tell him you will give him your answer after the performance of the play.’ She chuckled suddenly. ‘That will keep him hard at rehearsals, if nothing else.’
And so they arrived at Lady Rattenshaw’s house and were shown into the crowded drawing room. Although the room was spacious, like all the others in the house, it was crowded and very noisy with everyone was talking at once. Looking about her, Lavinia was amazed at the sumptuousness of the place. The carpets and hangings were of the highest quality, the furnishings for the most part Chippendale or French. There was nothing Indian about it at all.
‘I saw enough Eastern stuff while I was out there to last me a lifetime,’ Lady Rattenshaw said, when someone commented on this. ‘I longed for England and all things English. Now do make yourselves comfortable.’ She beckoned to a waiter carrying a tray of glasses. ‘Have some champagne. It is so much better for the digestion than anything else, do you not think?’ And once they had been furnished with full glasses, she drifted away to talk to more guests.
They looked about them for people they knew and soon spotted Sir Percy in mulberry and pale blue with a cerise cravat tied in a huge bow. Lord and Lady Graham had evidently recovered from the loss of the necklace, for they were the centre of a little group, talking animatedly. A little way off Lord and Lady Willoughby stood with a bored-looking Benedict at their side.
‘I do not see James,’ Lavinia said, sipping her drink.
‘No, but Lord Wincote is over there, deep in conversation with Lady Jersey.’
He looked up at that moment and excused himself from his elderly companion to come over to them. ‘Your Grace, your obedient.’ He bowed. ‘Lady Lavinia.’
‘Lord Wincote,’ both murmured.
‘Such a squeeze,’ he said. ‘And so hot even with all the windows open.’ He turned to Lavinia. ‘Would you like to take a turn round the garden, my lady? The terrace is well lit and it is much cooler outside.’
Lavinia looked at her stepmother, who smiled and nodded. ‘You may go, my love, but stay on the terrace, won’t you?’
Lavinia put her hand on his lordship’s sleeve and they made their way out of the room and through the conservatory to the paved terrace where several other couples promenaded. ‘It is unbearably hot,’ Lavinia said, flicking open her fan and waving it in front of her face as they walked. ‘If it were not for that dreadful trial, we would have been back home in the country by now.’
‘Ah, but then I would not be walking and talking with you, and that would be a great loss to me.’
‘My lord, you are too kind.’
‘When we last met, we were interrupted—’
‘Yes. I am sorry about that, my lord. The Earl of Corringham believes he has a duty to protect me.’
‘You do not need protecting from me, my lady. My intentions are honourable, as his Grace was kind enough to recognise when he gave me leave to speak to you.’
‘And you did. With rather more fervour than I expected.’
‘My lady, I apologise if that upset you, it was brought about by my impatience and the difficulty of speaking to you alone. I saw an opportunity and seized it.’ He smiled. ‘Am I forgiven?’
‘Yes, of course.’
‘And now, may I have your answer?’
‘Answer to what, my lord?’ she asked mischievously.
‘My offer of marriage.’
‘And undying love?’
He looked startled for a moment, then smiled. ‘I see you are a romantic, my lady. But if a declaration of undying love is the way to your heart, then you have it. So what do you say?’
He was so self-assured, so positive, that for a moment she wavered, but then, remembering her promise to the Duchess, smiled. ‘I am sensible of the honour you do me, my lord, but I am not yet quite ready—’
‘How long?’ he asked impatiently. ‘How long before you put me out of my torment?’
‘After the performance of our play. I really cannot give you an answer before then.’
‘But that is more than six weeks away. Oh, how can you be so cruel?’ His face clouded over and his jaw jutted. ‘It is Corringham’s fault. If he had not put his nose in where it is not wanted, you would have said yes when I asked you before.’
‘No, my lord, my answer would have been the same. It has nothing to do with James.’ But even as she spoke, she knew that was not true. It had everything to do with James. James was James. Always there, always a presence in her life.
And as if to confirm this, she saw him come out on to the terrace and heard Edmund mutter, ‘Damn him!’, which made her smile. But James did not appear to have seen them. He turned and strolled leisurely along the terrace to the end, where he stopped to light a small cigar and stood gazing up at the starlit sky, placidly smoking.
‘Let us go in,’ she said. ‘The Duchess will be wondering what has become of me.’
They turned and went indoors and James, seeing them go, ground out his cigar under his foot and followed.
In the largest reception room, Lady Rattenshaw was singing a ballad to the accompaniment of Sir Percy on the pianoforte. She had a melodious voice, which she knew how to project, and her audience were sitting or standing in small groups, listening with rapt attention. Lavinia and Lord Wincote joined them, standing just inside the door, so as not to disturb anyone.
There was enthusiastic applause when she finished and shouts of ‘Encore!’, especially from the men.
‘No, I am sure there are others who sing and play, who might be persuaded to favour us with a rendering,’ she said. ‘I do not know them, so someone tell me, whom should I ask?’
Lavinia felt someone move beside her and was surprised to see Lord Wincote make his way to their hostess’s side. ‘My lady, my voice is no more than passable, but I would deem it an honour to sing a duet with you.’
‘Capital!’ she said, clapping her hands. ‘What shall it be?’
They conferred with Sir Percy for a moment and chose a song. Sir Percy played the introduction and they began to sing a haunting love song. It was soon apparent that her ladyship was putting her heart and soul into the words and was singing for Lord Wincote alone. And he, astonishingly, was playing up to her.
‘Well, would you believe it,’ said a voice at Lavinia’s elbow. ‘What a pretty pair to be sure.’
Lavinia knew it was James standing just behind her and must have followed them indoors. ‘Yes, they do sing well together,’ she said, without turning round. ‘I had no idea Lord Wincote had so fine a voice.’
‘If that is the only secret he has kept from you, my dear, then you have nothing to worry about,’ he said, laconically. ‘By the way, am I to offer felicitations?’
‘Not yet. Mama advised me to defer a decision until after we have performed the play.’
‘Very wise of her,’ he said. ‘And how did Lord Wincote react to the news?’
‘Naturally he was disappointed.’
‘I’ll wager he was.’
She turned sharply to look at him. ‘But he accepted with a good grace.’
‘I am glad to hear it.’
The song ended and they both joined in the applause; afterwards Lady Rattenshaw called on others to contribute to the entertainment. Lavinia, whose talent was for drawing and painting rather than music, was content to listen as Constance and Lord Haverley were prevailed upon to play a duet, and Martin Drew gave a rendering of a popular ballad. They were warmly applauded as they moved to one side and then Lady Rattenshaw stood up and announced a special treat. Lord Wincote was going to demonstrate the art of mesmerism.
There was a gasp from everyone and looks exchanged, half-wonder, half-fear. Lavinia found herself reaching behind her and clutching James’s hand. He was startled for a moment, but then smiled and allowed it to lie there, relishing the feel of the small trembling fingers in his own.
The murmuring ceased as Edmund stood and faced everyone. ‘I learned the art from a disciple of the great Dr Mesmer himself,’ he said. And though he appeared not to raise his voice, his words reached every corner of the room. ‘I am not a medical man, of course, and would not presume to cure people’s ills as he did but, for a little light entertainment, I am prepared to demonstrate the power of animal magnetism.’
‘Taking over people’s minds,’ James murmured to Lavinia. ‘Is that what he has done to you?’
‘No,’ she whispered back. ‘Pay attention.’ But she did not let go of his hand. She liked the feel of it.
‘I need volunteers,’ Edmund went on. ‘I give you my word, I will do nothing to harm anyone, nor make them insensible against their will.’
Benedict stood up and made his way to the front, followed by one or two of the other young men. Edmund arranged a row of chairs in a semi-circle around him and invited them to be seated which they did, grinning self-consciously. ‘What about a lady?’ his lordship went on. ‘A lady might take the matter a little more seriously. Lady Lavinia?’
‘No!’ James hissed at her.
He should have kn
own that forbidding Lavinia to do something was tantamount to a challenge. She smiled and moved forward to join the others, among whom was Lady Rattenshaw.
‘Now, ladies and gentlemen,’ Edmund said softly, speaking to the volunteers, as he withdrew the fob from his waistcoat pocket. ‘I want to you ignore everyone else in the room and concentrate on my voice and this little trinket.’ A shiny jewel-like object dangled on the end of the ribbon, glinting in the light of the chandeliers. ‘You see it swings like a pendulum, back and forth, back and forth, finding its own rhythm, neither fast nor slow, like the tick of a clock, tick, tock…’
His voice was very low, very languorous, and the people sitting in the semi-circle round him had to concentrate very hard to hear it. They gazed up at him, concentrating hard. James watched, his heart in his mouth, as he saw their limbs relax, saw their eyelids flutter, saw Lavinia’s chin drop a little, though her eyes remained open. Not a sound was made by the audience. Suddenly Wincote turned towards them. ‘Now they are in a dreamlike state which is similar to sleep but is not, for they can hear all I say and obey my commands, but when they wake up, they will remember nothing.’
He turned to Benedict. ‘Mr Willoughby, you are a donkey. Be so kind as to get down on your hands and knees and bray like a donkey.’
To everyone’s amusement, Benedict did and when he was told to do so, returned to his seat. The next young man was told he was a chicken and flapped his wings and clucked, and though the audience roared with laughter it did not wake him. He made Lady Rattenshaw take off her necklace and hand it to him. He smiled and put it in his pocket, saying, ‘It is a good thing I am honest, is it not?’ And then he came to Lavinia. ‘Lady Lavinia, now what shall I ask you to do?’
‘Nothing,’ James cried, striding forward, intending to rescue Lavinia. ‘You will not humiliate her.’
‘My lord, if you wake her abruptly, it could be dangerous for her,’ Wincote said calmly, holding up his hand to stop him. ‘And it is not my intention to humiliate her or anyone. I mean them no harm.’ James stopped abruptly, wondering if it were true that it might be dangerous, and Lord Wincote turned back to Lavinia. ‘My lady, I think I shall ask you to recite Oberon’s speech in A Midsummer Night’s Dream, the one that begins, “What thou seest, when thou dost wake, Do it for thy true-love take…’”