Just for a moment there was a suspicion of wistfulness in Verena’s voice. It was the ambition of every debutante and every young woman of fashion to be admitted to the most aristocratic and most exclusive Club in the whole of Society.
Almack’s, which was run by the great London hostesses like Lady Jersey, Lady Cowper and the Princess de Lieven, made its own rules and had even refused the great Duke of Wellington himself when he tried to gain admittance one evening after eleven o’clock and was not wearing knee-breeches!
“I could arrange that for you,” the Duke said without thinking.
“You could arrange it?” Verena cried incredulously. “That I cannot believe!”
It was becoming obvious, the Duke thought wryly, that, as a person of consequence, he did not stand high in this country chit’s estimation.
“I have some distinguished friends,” he said somewhat hesitatingly. “And my sister, though you may not credit it, moves with the Beau Ton.”
“I was not being rude, at least not intentionally. But I had thought of you simply as a soldier.”
“I have a feeling that is not a compliment,” the Duke replied.
“It really is. I cannot imagine that you would wish to associate with those dressed-up, empty-headed chatterboxes. And before you ask me what I know about them, I will tell you.
“I have twice been to London – once when I was only fifteen and Grandpapa then took me to see the sights. He even showed me the wild beasts at the Royal Exchange. It was thrilling and I enjoyed every minute of it. “The second time was after I had passed my seventeenth birthday and Grandpapa thought that I should see a little of the Social world. I went to a number of dinner parties and two balls.”
She stopped for few seconds before carrying on,
“It was not gay all the time because my Godmother, Lady Bingley, who we stayed with, is not young and she was leading a quiet existence since her husband did not have good health. But she did invite her friends to meet me at her at home.”
Verena paused again for a moment and then she continued,
“Lady Yarde, who had at one time been one of Grandpapa’s flirts, chaperoned me to a ball given by the Duchess of Bedford and to another by Lady Cowper. I saw the Beau Monde and, although I thought some of the women were beautiful, the men were decidedly overdressed, affected and puffed up with their own conceit!”
“I wonder who your partners could have been?” the Duke asked, his eyes twinkling.
“I suppose I did seem to them a trifle rustic,” Verena said frankly. “But they need not have been so stiff-necked. I felt they expected me to go down on my knees in huge gratitude because they had condescended to a country wench.”
“I promise that anyone I introduce you to will treat you with the utmost respect.”
Verena laughed, the dimples showing again in her cheek.
“And how will you contrive that?” she asked. “Command them to do their duty as you command your troops? No thank you, Major Royd, I will stay in the country where people like me for myself and the cut of my gown is of no consequence.”
“And let the ‘Evil Genius’ off scot-free?” the Duke asked. “Even at this moment the wife of some wretched guard may be sobbing her eyes out because she has just been made a widow. I don’t suppose there is even a pension for such women. Their children may starve and who will be to blame but you?”
“Stop it!” Verena exclaimed angrily. “You are being monstrously unfair and you know it! That is the sneakiest underhand method of trying to coerce me.”
“Nevertheless, it is the truth,” the Duke murmured.
“You know that I could not leave here whilst Grandpapa is so ill. If he – dies then I might consider your suggestion.”
“And when your grandfather dies,” the Duke asked, “what do you intend to do? You will not be able to live here alone.”
“I know that! I am not completely green,” Verena countered. “My old Governess, Miss Richardson, will come to stay with me until I can make proper arrangements. Then I will get in touch with Giles and we shall be married.”
“Where is he at the moment?” the Duke enquired.
“I think he may be in India,” Verena answered. “I have not heard from him for a long time. Of course, if he is abroad, the letters will take months by sea. Anyway, when we meet I will tell him what you suggest and ask for his approval. I should not be surprised if he thought the whole idea as ridiculous as I consider it to be!”
She tossed her head as she spoke and went from the room, closing the door sharply behind her.
The Duke sat with a smile on his lips, thinking how easy it was to tease her and just how automatically at the mere mention of Society she became incensed and full of condemnation of the people, especially the men, who were described as the ‘Beau Ton’.
He imagined that she must have felt out of place and rather lost in London when she had gone there with her grandfather.
And he could understand that with her upbringing she had found the restrictions and conventions of the Social world very different from the freedom she enjoyed at home.
He then guessed that at seventeen Verena had been perhaps a little ungainly, like a foal not yet fully grown. And this, combined with her sense of insecurity and her unfashionable forthrightness, perhaps had laid her open to a number of snubs and set downs.
But now that she was nearly twenty, if she was dressed up in the height of the latest fashion and introduced to the right people, the Duke was prepared to wager that she would be a sensation.
She would certainly, he thought, with her dark hair and huge gold-speckled eyes, make girls who were fair and blue-eyed seem positively insipid and he was not surprised that a parent like Lord Upminster did not invite Verena to his house when so important a suitor for his daughter’s hand as the Duke of Selchester was expected.
The Duke had learnt that Mr. Carter had sent his letters of apology, for Verena returning from Copple Hall had been full of Lord Upminster’s fury on learning that the Duke after all the fuss did not intend to honour his residence.
“The preparations to receive His Grace have been an entire waste of money,” he had raged on and on. “It is your fault, Charmaine, for having encouraged the man in the first place. He would not have suggested such a visit had you not led him to hope that his addresses might be favourably received.”
“I certainly did not encourage ‒ the Duke, Papa,” Charmaine had faltered. “In fact His Grace hardly ‒ spoke to me.”
“Your fault! Entirely your fault,” Lord Upminster snapped. “I shall deduct what has been expended out of your dress allowance.”
Verena described the scene graphically to the Duke and then added,
“Lady Upminster tried to console Charmaine with the information that she had extracted no less than ten pounds from the housekeeping money. So nobody will suffer because the Odious Duke has cancelled his visit and Charmaine and Clive are now convinced that they can plan their Wedding for the spring!”
“I told you it was an ill wind,” the Duke said, his eyes twinkling.
“I wonder why the Odious Duke changed his mind?”
“Perhaps he was unavoidably detained.”
“I am sure it was an ‘Incomparable’,” Verena said. “Well, I wish her joy of him, I only hope she makes him really miserable, it would teach him a lesson!”
“You are a vindictive little monkey,” the Duke exclaimed. “Do you always feel so vehemently about those you have no liking for?”
“I can see you want me to be a bread-and-butter miss,” Verena said accusingly, “without a thought in my head and without any conviction of my own! Well, Major, you will be disappointed. I have positive opinions on most subjects, especially men!”
“What is your opinion of me?” the Duke asked.
He could see her brown eyes searching his face as if she looked for something beneath the surface.
“Shall I tell your fortune?” she parried.
“A witch as well
as a healer?” the Duke enquired. “Is there no end to your talents?”
“I am clairvoyant. Because my mother’s mother was a seventh child of a seventh child. That gives one special powers, you know.”
“I have heard of that belief,” the Duke remarked. “Who was your mother before she married your father?”
“My mother was the daughter of Lord Merwin. Her family did not consider my Papa a suitable suitor, so Mama climbed out of her bedroom window and ran away with him!”
“Very romantic for them,” the Duke said drily. “I imagine you don’t know your Merwin relatives.”
“I have no wish to meet them,” Verena exclaimed positively. “How dare they look down on my Papa! He was so handsome, so brave and a brilliant soldier.”
“Old quarrels have a habit of punishing those who had no part in them,” the Duke said reflectively.
He thought that the Merwin family could have introduced Verena into the Social world very much more successfully than an aged General, however distinguished he had been on the field of battle!
“Don’t let us talk of Mama’s high-nosed relatives,” Verena pleaded. “It always makes me cross. Let me hold in my hands something you have always worn.”
She reached out as she spoke and picked up his gold watch, which Travers had put beside his bed. It was fat and heavy and the Duke had a moment’s fear that she might recognise the crest engraved on the back of it, but Verena was not looking at the watch, she was merely holding it in both hands.
She closed her eyes.
“You have been very near to death,” she said slowly. “But of course I know that! I can see blood and darkness all round you and yet you are not afraid. I think, had I never seen you before this moment, I would have known that you are a soldier and a good one.”
She was quiet for a few moments before she continued,
“You received a decoration, but I can see other tributes, something that looks like a – crown. I cannot quite understand it, but you have either held an important position in the past or will do in the future. Had you not left the Army I imagine you would have been made a Field Marshal.”
“Perhaps there will be another war,” the Duke suggested, “and I shall re-join my Regiment.”
“I don’t think so. But you will be in a position of – great authority and you will help many – people. I am not certain how, but they look to you to guide them – perhaps to command them. But there is danger for you – danger from a man – a man who hates you! There is something he wants from you and he is determined to obtain it. But you will be saved – it is a woman who saves you!”
“What is she like?” the Duke asked.
“I cannot see her. I can only see danger – danger in the darkness – and danger in a building – and there is blood!”
She opened her eyes and said seriously,
“You must be careful, Major, very very careful.”
“I think you are seeing the pas not the future,” the Duke suggested. “I have been in danger, thanks to you, and I was rescued, again thanks to you. I could have told you all that without the aid of clairvoyance.”
Verena put the watch back on the table.
“You can scoff at me, but I promise you that it will come true. And be careful, I would not wish anything ‒ to happen to you.”
“I am grateful for your solicitude,” the Duke said.
Then, looking into Verena’s eyes, he suddenly realised that she was really troubled.
“You don’t honestly believe all that moonshine, do you?” he asked.
For a moment she did not answer. Her gold-flecked eyes were held by his grey ones and he had the strange feeling that something passed between them. Something neither of them had sought or expected.
Verena drew in her breath and turned away.
“I wish I did not believe it, but my predictions have an unfortunate habit of coming true,” she answered in a low voice as she left the room.
Now the Duke remembered what she had said and then wondered. if in fact by trying to persuade Verena to come to London, he was taking them both into danger.
He knew only too well that the Bullion robbers were killers and that, if they had the slightest suspicion that Verena knew their secret, her life would be forfeit!
But why should they know, he then asked himself. Why should they suspect anyone from Little Copple?
Not even the stranger they had poleaxed in the old Priory was likely to guess how their robberies were contrived.
‘It is clever, brilliantly clever,’ the Duke thought. ‘And so simple.’
The door opened and Travers came into the room.
“Miss Verena thinks it’s now time that-you went back to bed, sir,” he said respectfully. “You’ve been up for four hours and the doctor said you were to take it easy today.”
The Duke was about to protest when he realised that he was in fact aching with fatigue.
His head was swimming although he tried to tell himself that it was just his imagination.
Because he really was longing to lie down, he capitulated.
“Very well, Travers. I don’t feel strong enough to argue with Miss Verena, so I will go to bed. But tomorrow I intend to stay up all day.”
“I expect Miss Verena will have somethin’ to say about it too, sir,” Travers replied with a chuckle.
“Does she always get her own way?” the Duke enquired.
“Miss Verena is one of the nicest young ladies I have ever known,” Travers said, “but she is a trifle like her grandfather, it was always said in the Regiment it was easier to bend the barrel of a cannon than to change the General’s mind! Miss Verena is a chip off the old block. But where the Master does it by command, Miss Verena has a coaxin’ manner that one finds it hard to gainsay.”
“I think she commands me,” the Duke admitted ruefully.
“That is because you’re sick, sir,” Travers replied. “There is nothin’ a female, whatever her age, enjoys more than havin’ a man dependent on her. Real tyrants they become if one is indisposed and Miss Verena is no exception,”
“I have noticed that,” the Duke agreed. “Tell me, Travers, who is this gentleman who Miss Verena considers herself engaged to?”
“Captain Giles Winchcombe-Smythe, sir.”
“So that is his name. I had not thought to ask.”
“The Captain is a sort of relation, sir,” Travers explained. “He calls himself a cousin, but in my opinion it’s nothin’ but a connection.”
He looked a little embarrassed before continuing
“The Captain’s mother was the Master’s second cousin. Her name was Winchcombe, right enough, but she weds a man called Smythe and later adds her name to his. The marriage was not smiled on by the family, from what I hears, sir.”
“Does the General approve of his grand-daughter’s engagement?”
“He does not!” Travers said sharply, “and if without offence I can make a correction, sir, it is no engagement. Just an understanding, as one might say, between Captain Giles and Miss Verena. And something that is kept secret from the Master.”
“Why is that?” the Duke asked, climbing thankfully into his bed and thinking nothing had ever seemed more comfortable than the softness of the feather pillows that Travers arranged behind his head.
Travers glanced towards the door.
“I don’t know that I should be sayin’ this to you, sir, but seein’ as you’re a soldier and seein’ there’s no one else I can confide in, I’ll tell you the truth. ’Tis worried to death I am!”
“Tell me why,” the Duke encouraged him.
“Well, sir, Captain Giles has been comin’ to see the Master on and off ever since I can remember and the only reason he has ever called has been to extract money!
“How old is the Captain?” the Duke interposed. “I have thought of him as a very young man!”
“No indeed, Sir, Captain Giles will not see thirty-eight again as sure as I am standin’ here!”
�
��Thirty-eight! A trifle old for Miss Verena surely?”
“Much too old in many ways,” Travers replied darkly.
“Go on with your story,” the Duke suggested.
“’Twas always the same, sir, money! Money! The Captain was in debt, the duns were after him, there would be a scandal, he would have to leave the Regiment and not much of a Regiment at that!”
“What was it?” the Duke asked.
“The Eleventh Foot, sir,” Travers replied with all the contempt of a Grenadier Guardsman for lesser breeds.
The Duke prevented himself from smiling.
“Do continue.”
“Well, after the Master and Miss Verena comes back from London two years ago, Captain Giles arrives unexpectedly and I sees the moment I sets eyes on him, sir, he be below hatches. As I expects, at the first opportunity he seeks out the Master for a private chat. ’Twas not a good moment, as I could have told him, seein’ as how the Master was in real pain from an attack of the gout due, as I said at the time, sir, to the smart boots he insisted on wearin’ in London that were too tight for him.”
“They can indeed be troublesome at times,” the Duke remarked.
“Be that as it may, the Master were feelin’ crusty-like and Captain Giles then did himself no good. I could hear their voices raised as I was passin’ the study door and, quite by accident, as you’ll understand, sir, and, as they were so loud, I couldn’t help but hear what they said.”
“Do go on,” the Duke asked him.
“‘I will give you two thousand pounds and not a penny piece more!’ the Master thunders. You could have heard him right across the Barrack Square, sir, I swears to it. ‘And if you come here again’, he went on, ‘I will kick you out! You have bled me long enough and I don’t intend to deplete Verena’s inheritance for a bumble-splasher like you’!”
Travers paused and then he continued,
“The Captain says somethin’ I couldn’t catch and the Master shouts, ‘leave you anything in my will? You must be addle-pated Everything I possess, the estate, my house and my fortune, is Verena’s and that is my last word! Take the two thousand pounds and go to the devil with it as far as I am concerned. I have finished with you. Do you hear me’?”
The Odious Duke Page 10