It was not what Desiree had been hoping to hear. She had no wish to be alone with Sebastian, but she was grateful that they were leaving. And perhaps it was just as well that she did not have to face Lady Charlton right now. That good lady saw too much, and Desiree had no wish to go into any kind of explanation while her pain was so fresh.
She managed to say a quick goodbye to Lady Appleby but she avoided all others. And she resolutely kept her eyes down as she accompanied Sebastian outside.
'Desiree, will you not tell me what is wrong?' he said when they were finally settled in the carriage. 'I cannot help but feel that there is more to this than just a touch of illness.'
Desiree pointedly averted her face. 'I have told you, my lord, there is nothing wrong.'
'But you were shaking like a leaf when I came upon you. Indeed, you looked for all the world as though you had seen a ghost.
I had, Desiree thought sadly. The ghost of the man I thought I knew...
'Will you not tell me what happened tonight?'
Desiree stirred uneasily on the bench. She would have to tell him something, otherwise he would never let her rest. But what was she to say? She needed time to be alone; time to think about what all this meant.
'I received some...very disturbing news just before you arrived,' she said woodenly.
'News?' Sebastian frowned. 'Concerning what?'
'Concerning...someone that I know. A friend.'
'And what was the nature of this news? Is your friend ill? Have they been injured in some way?'
Oh yes, they have been injured, Desiree felt like saying. Indeed, they have, but in a way that can never be healed.
'Lord Buckworth, please, I wish you would cease questioning me. I cannot reveal the nature of the injury nor the name of the person upon whom it was inflicted. Suffice it to say that it has caused me...great pain.'
Sebastian sat back against the squabs and his face was lost in the shadows. 'Yes, I can see that it has. But it pains me to see you suffer like this, Desiree.'
How ironic, Desiree thought, since you are the one who has caused it to be so.
'Is there nothing I can do to make you feel better?' he asked. 'No help that I can offer?'
Desiree finally raised her eyes to his. 'There is nothing you can say and nothing you can do. Please accept that as the truth and leave me to myself. I shall deal with this in my own way.'
The rest of the drive home was completed in silence.
Not surprisingly, Desiree found little solace in sleep that night. She lay in her bed and stared up at the ceiling as she relived every painful moment of her meeting with Lord Perry that evening—and, in turn, of her very first meeting with Sebastian in Steep Wood.
Oh yes, she remembered in detail what had happened. How she must have looked to him that day in the pool, and how he had treated her as a result. And she closed her eyes in humiliation as she thought of him telling his friends.
Had he really thought so little of her at the time? He must have, or he would not have spoken of their encounter, let alone have embellished it in such a way. To him, she had obviously been a young woman of questionable morals, who had been bold enough to shed her clothes and swim in a woodland pool. He must have thought of her in such a way, for he had made her a proposition because of it. One he would never have made to a proper young lady.
What a pity that she had not told him the truth of her identity sooner, Desiree reflected bitterly. She could have thrown that in his face and watched his smile disappear. For as matters turned out, that was all that had been required to change his mind. They had barely reached the outskirts of London, and all she had said was that she was a baronet's granddaughter, and suddenly, everything had changed.
Desiree realised the truth of that now. The house Sebastian had rented for her hadn't been undergoing any kind of repairs. He had simply told her that to give himself time to find a way out of his predicament. Once he had discovered that she had connections in town, it was obvious that his conscience would not allow him to set her up as his mistress. So he had diverted the carriage to his aunt's house, and once there, had asked Lady Charlton if she would be willing to entertain her until he managed to secure some manner of alternate employment. Unfortunately, when he had offered her a good position with some friends of his, Desiree had felt compelled to turn it down because of what had happened with Lord Perry and the potential damage it could have caused.
How would it have looked, for example, if word had got back to his good friends that the lady Sebastian had recommended to look after their children was a woman of loose morals? Because Desiree could not be sure that such information would not get back to them—and that the source would not be Lord Perry himself. Certainly the man was not above using blackmail if he felt it could achieve his ends. Desiree knew that he was well connected, and even if he was not well liked, he would nevertheless be listened to. Had Mrs Guarding not done precisely that when faced with a similar dilemma? Which meant there was only one thing Desiree could do.
She would have to leave London. She would have to leave Lady Charlton's house as soon as possible and look for a position in the north or the far west of England. It was vital that she remove herself from that good lady's home before Lady Charlton had cause to regret all of the kindness she had shown her.
And that would hurt so very much, Desiree reflected as the tears began to well in her eyes. Because Lady Charlton had been kindness itself, and to repay her in such a manner seemed shabby treatment indeed. But Desiree knew that she would rather do that than subject Lady Charlton to any kind of humiliation or disgrace as a result of the company she kept.
At half past four in the morning, Desiree finally drifted into a fitful sleep. But she had made her decision. As soon as she rose in the morning, she would begin making her preparations to leave.
In his house across town, Sebastian sat at his desk holding a half-filled glass of brandy, and wondered what the hell had happened tonight.
To say that he was confused was putting it mildly. Desiree had been in a great deal of pain. He had seen it in her eyes and heard it in her voice. But according to her, there was nothing he could do or say to help ease her suffering.
'Damn it all!' Sebastian swore softly. 'Why won't she talk to me?' Had their relationship not developed far enough that she trusted him with such confidences? He had begun to think, perhaps to hope, that she held him in some affection. But after tonight, he wasn't so sure any more. She had shut him out at a time when she most desperately needed someone to talk to.
Well, he had no doubt that she would talk to his aunt. The two had become very close in the short time Desiree had been there and he knew that she would not be able to hide her feelings from her. He would just have to wait until Desiree had shared the details of her unhappiness, and then perhaps, once he understood its nature, ask his aunt if she would be willing to share it with him.
Sebastian had to know what was bothering Desiree. Because it went without saying that if he did not find out the source of her unhappiness, he could not know happiness himself.
Desiree found a copy of The Times in the drawing-room the next morning. Lady Charlton had not yet appeared and, grateful for the time alone, Desiree opened the paper and quickly found what she was looking for. She jotted down the information on a piece of paper and tucked it into the pocket of her gown. By the time Lady Charlton finally walked into the room, she was sitting on the chintz love-seat with her embroidery in her lap.
'Ah, there you are, Miss Nash,' Lady Charlton said, her usual vivacity noticeably lacking. 'Are you feeling better this morning?'
Desiree made an effort to smile. 'Yes, thank you, Lady Charlton.'
'Good. Though I would wonder, given the dark circles under your eyes. Still, if you tell me you feel well, I shall believe it. I myself have a touch of the megrim this morning and was wondering if you would be kind enough to pick up these few things for me.'
'Of course,' Desiree said, immediately setting aside her tambo
ur. She took the list, neatly written in Lady Charlton's hand, and glanced at it. For once, luck seemed to be with her. Lady Charlton's errands would take her quite close to the servant registry she wished to visit. She could conduct her business there and attend to Lady Charlton's errands without arousing anyone's suspicions.
A small sigh escaped Desiree's lips as she tucked it into the pocket in her gown and headed to her room. Perhaps this was the Lord's way of telling her that this was truly the way things were meant to be.
Over the next few days, Desiree endeavoured to spend as little time as possible in Sebastian's company. She took to pleading illness when it came to attending functions at which she knew he would be present, and she avoided all opportunities to be alone with him. When he did call upon his aunt of an afternoon, Desiree made sure that she was otherwise engaged. If he stumbled upon her by chance, she was polite but reserved. To anyone observing them together, it looked as though Desiree was not only uncomfortable in the gentleman's presence, but that she did not even care for him.
And the sad part was, nothing could have been further from the truth. She loved him as much now as she ever had. Indeed, the intensity of her feelings startled her. And yet, how could that be? She had tried to convince herself that the treachery she had discovered within him should have changed her feelings towards him—but she knew that it had not. She had been angry and hurt by what he had done, but his actions in themselves were not enough to stop her loving him.
And the knowledge that in a very short time she would never see him again made any time spent in his company sweet torture.
It was for that reason alone that Desiree did everything she could to avoid him. She knew that Sebastian was aware of the change in her demeanour, as was Lady Charlton. But nothing either of them could say would arrest a response. Desiree continued to be polite but distant. And every day she prayed that an answer would come to her aid.
The only person to whom she had confided her dilemma was Helen de Coverdale. The two had kept up a close correspondence throughout Desiree's stay in London, and it was to Helen that Desiree confessed the details of her unfortunate meetings with Lord Perry, and of his subsequent proposition.
And as expected, Helen's letters back to her were filled with genuine expressions of affection and concern. When she learned of Desiree's intention to leave London and seek employment elsewhere, she even offered to speak to Mrs Guarding to see if anything had changed.
Desiree had asked her not to, of course, because while she appreciated Helen's concern, she knew it would be to no avail. Mrs Guarding could not change her mind even if she wanted to. Nor did Desiree wish to go back to Steep Abbott where she knew she would be recognised by the people she had worked with and possibly made to suffer their condemnation.
No, what she wanted to do was to go far away, to a place where no one knew who she was or anything about her background. And it was that longing which prompted Desiree to do something she had never done in her life. When the letter came from the service registry saying that there had been a reply to her advertisement and would she please provide a letter of reference that could be forwarded to the prospective employers, Desiree contacted Helen and asked her to write one. Because she knew that without it, her chances of being considered for the post were non-existent.
Helen, of course, had been more than willing to comply. She had written a glowing letter of recommendation, signing herself as the Signora Helene de Grazziano, Comtesse de Coverdale, and giving her dear Miss Nash a recommendation that would have stood her in good stead had she applied to the Regent himself.
Desiree had shed a few tears at the lengths to which her friend had been willing to go, but beyond that, she had little time for emotion. This phase of her life was coming to an end. The next one was about to begin. She had no time to grieve over what she had lost.
And so, enclosing Helen's letter with one of her own, she posted her letter to the registry, accepting the position as governess to Mr and Mrs Bertrand Clyde, of Banksburgh House, Yorkshire.
Chapter Nine
By the end of the week Sebastian had had enough. Desiree had avoided him, ignored him, or just plain looked through him ever since the night of the musicale. And he didn't like it one bit. There had to be some way of spending time alone with her so that he could find out what was wrong. And knowing of only one way that had any chance of succeeding, he sent a letter to his aunt and asked her to join him for dinner the following evening. He specifically asked that she come alone and said that the explanation for his request would be given at the time.
Naturally, Lady Charlton had agreed. But as she sat across from him at the table and listened to what he had to say, her eyes opened very wide at finally being told the reason behind the unexpected invitation.
'You invited me here to tell me that you wished to speak to Desiree? Good Lord, Sebastian, you speak to her every time you come to visit me,' Lady Charlton said in astonishment.
'Yes, but you cannot have failed to notice that our conversations of late have been noticeably lacking in depth, Aunt. All Desiree is willing to talk to me about is the nature of the weather and the likelihood of rain.'
'Well, yes, of course, I had noticed a certain diffidence on her part, but I did not think it evidenced a problem between the two of you.'
'Well, it does,' Sebastian said darkly. 'And I have no idea why. All I know is that Desiree was given some information on the night of the musicale and she has been distant with me ever since.'
'And you don't like it.'
'No, Aunt, I do not.' Sebastian signalled for more wine. 'I do not see that I have done anything to warrant such treatment on her part.'
'Sebastian, what precisely did Desiree tell you?'
'That the news she had been given concerned a friend of hers, and that she was both surprised and pained by it.'
'But she did not give you any indication as to who this friend might be?'
'No.'
'Did it ever occur to you that the friend she was talking about was herself?'
Sebastian stared at her in bewilderment. 'Not for a moment. Why would she refer to herself as someone else?'
'Because ladies often refer to someone else as having a problem when it is they themselves who are looking for an answer.' Lady Charlton picked up her knife and cut into a tender slice of roast beef. 'I have done so myself on numerous occasions.'
Sebastian frowned. 'But what news could Desiree possibly have received that would have caused her so much pain? And who could have delivered it?'
'That I cannot say, Sebastian, for I did hot spend the entire evening in her company. In fact, I did not see Desiree again after she went to procure two glasses of punch.'
Sebastian thought for a moment. 'How long was it before I came to tell you that I was taking Desiree home?'
'It must have been going on for fifteen minutes.'
'So it is possible that she spoke to someone between the time she left you, and the time I found her.'
'Oh yes, most certainly. There were a lot of people at the house that night. She could have spoken to any number of them.'
'But think about it, Aunt Hannah,' Sebastian said slowly. 'On the occasions where you and Desiree have been out in society together, how many people have actually spoken to her? Everyone knows you, of course, and they know that Desiree is your companion. But of the people you have introduced Desiree to, how many would actually go up to her and engage her in conversation? Especially conversation of a disturbing nature regarding a friend of hers?'
Lady Charlton slowly nodded her head. 'Yes, Sebastian, I see what you are getting at. The only people who might have spoken to Desiree would have been people she'd met since coming to London. And the chances of any of them saying something that would have upset her to such a degree is very small.' She glanced at her nephew in dismay. 'Then who else could it have been?'
'Did you happen to notice if Lord Perry was at the musicale?'
'Oh dear. Now that you mention it, I
do believe he was,' Lady Charlton admitted with concern. 'He came in late; after the tenor had sung, as I recall, and I do not think he mingled much. But I think you could be right about him being the one to have upset Desiree. I came upon her speaking to Lord Perry and his wife at Lady Rumsden's ball and it was evident that she was uncomfortable in his presence.' Lady Charlton glanced at her nephew sharply. 'Had they met before that night?'
'Yes. Desiree informed me while we were out riding that she had been introduced to Lord Perry at the Guarding Academy. Apparently, all the schoolmistresses were introduced to the parents of the students at the time of their enrolment. She told me that she had only spoken to him once, but I could tell that she held him in disfavour.'
'Well, I know that Desiree was upset by his presence at the ball. And when I asked, she told me outright that she did not like the man. So it seems very likely that he was the one to have upset her on the night of the musicale. But what might he have said that would have troubled her to such an extent?'
Sebastian's face took on a grim aspect. 'I don't know, Aunt, and unless I am given an opportunity to speak to Desiree, we may never know. That is why I would like you to invite me to have dinner with you, and to make sure that Desiree is present as well.'
'I shall invite her if that is what you wish, but that is not to say she will accept when she learns you are to be there, Sebastian.'
'She will if she believes the reason for the dinner is to celebrate your birthday.'
'But it is not—ah, I see,' Lady Charlton said, suddenly beginning to smile. 'You wish me to pretend that it is my birthday because you know that she will feel obligated to stay for such an occasion.'
'That is precisely what I am hoping, Aunt. And in truth, it is not such an outlandish plan. After all, your birthday is in three weeks' time, and I think it only right that we do something special to celebrate the occasion of your—'
'Thank you, Sebastian, that will do. There is no need to inform the entire house of my age.' Lady Charlton abruptly signalled to the footman. 'Grey, you may tell Mrs Clarke that her dinner was excellent. As for you, Sebastian, you shall have your opportunity to speak with Desiree. But I warn you it may all be for naught. If she has been as reluctant to speak to you as you say, I cannot conceive that a birthday celebration will encourage her to say a great deal more!'
A Most Improper Proposal Page 14