Cadenza
Page 20
It was this more than anything that, whilst waiting for the music to begin, was responsible for him asking Elizabeth why she had suggested the supper-dance.
‘There wasn’t any particular reason,’ she replied, startled. ‘Should I not have?’
‘Perish the thought. I am looking forward to taking supper among Rockliffe’s family and friends immensely. I am sure Nicholas Wynstanton has many more criticisms he would like to hurl at me. And I do so enjoy being told what I may and may not do.’
Before Elizabeth could reply, the music started – thus injecting a pause into the conversation. But as soon as they were close enough for her to be able to speak without being overheard, she said rapidly, ‘I don’t blame you for being annoyed, my lord – but I am not responsible for whatever Lord Nicholas may have said. And you needn’t have pointed out that you are dancing with me for the sake of appearances. I’m already aware of it.’
Another pause, as the dance required them to move apart and circle another couple before coming together again. The instant they did, Ralph said, ‘Who told you that?’
‘You – a bare moment ago.’
‘Pardon me – but I did no such thing.’
‘No? Were you just not complaining about being told what to do?’
‘I did not --’ Once again, the dance sent them in opposite directions and he had to wait until he was facing her again. ‘I was not referring to you.’
‘Really? But if not me, then what?’
Elizabeth wasn’t sure where the words were coming from and had a vague suspicion that she would regret them later. Ralph realised that he was on the verge of indulging in an argument in the middle of the ballroom and didn’t know whether to be irritated or entertained. While he still had the chance, he murmured provokingly, ‘Please stop scowling. It does not create the correct impression.’
‘I am not --’ began Elizabeth through gritted teeth, ‘- scowling.’
‘No? You give a very good impression of it. Whose idea was this, by the way?’
‘Whose idea was what?’
Having by now settled into the rhythm of when not to speak, Ralph waited for the opportune moment. ‘Gathering me into the ducal fold.’
‘Lady Elinor suggested it.’
‘Ah. Of course.’
Neither of them spoke for a little while. Then Elizabeth said abruptly, ‘At Stevenage … why didn’t you tell me who Lady Sutherland was?’
He remained silent so long, she didn’t think he was going to reply. But finally he said, ‘It would have served no more purpose then than it does now.’
The forbidding note was plain but she chose to ignore it and, as soon as she had the chance, said, ‘Perhaps not. But I can’t help wondering if --’
‘I am sure you can’t.’ Ralph shot her brief hard glance. ‘I am equally sure you have been fed numerous titbits to my discredit. Fortunately, my past is not your concern.’
They completed the dance in silence. Elizabeth managed to pin a smile on her face but wasn’t sure how convincing it was. The single sideways glimpse that was all she permitted herself told her that Lord Sherbourne was also smiling – but in a way that made her wish she had left the matter of Philippa Sutherland alone. Supper, she thought with a sinking heart, was going to be fraught with pitfalls.
* * *
‘Well,’ said Adeline later that night when she and her husband were alone together, ‘that seemed to go well enough. And Lord Sherbourne was a surprise. I’d expected some species of practiced seducer not a coolly collected gentleman who can barely summon a smile. But despite that impenetrable reserve, I didn’t dislike him.
‘His willingness to marry Arabella if necessary is certainly a point in his favour,’ agreed Rockliffe. Clad in a dressing-robe of black silk, patterned in gold, he poured wine for them both and sat down beside her. ‘The problems surrounding Sherbourne are the same they have always been. He killed a man in a duel … and his brothers are a disgrace. With regard to the former, I have a suspicion that it may not have been as straightforward as one might suppose. As for the younger Harcourts, I imagine they are the bane of his existence and that he does his best to restrain them. One also notices that Sherbourne’s own behaviour has recently undergone a change.’ He leaned back, contemplating the contents of his glass. ‘At supper this evening, I had the impression that he and Arabella had argued. Has she said anything of that?’
Adeline shook her head.
‘Nothing. And an argument suggests a closer relationship than I’d like to think exists. The earl may be willing to do the honourable thing but if he is as big a libertine as he’s reputed to be – though I’m by no means convinced of that – it is unlikely to change. And after the debacle of her betrothal, Arabella doesn’t need more heartbreak. Yes – I know reformed rakes supposedly make the best husbands but I’m not convinced of that either.’
Amusement lurked in Rockliffe’s eyes.
‘How fortunate, then, that our friends are gently spiking Lady Sutherland’s guns.’
‘Isn’t it? Did you hear any hint of gossip this evening?’
‘Naturally not. No one is going to speculate to my face. But Sebastian says that Lord Moreton expressed disapproval at Sherbourne’s presence and followed it with a less than subtle enquiry about whether a happy announcement was imminent.’
‘Yes. Lady Wendover asked Dolly the same thing – and went away disappointed.’
‘Good. As ever, Charles Fox has his ear to the ground. Should the talk escalate, I shall have a gentle word with Phineas Sutherland. He would not, I feel sure, wish his lady wife to make herself … unpopular … or worse still, a laughing-stock.’
Adeline eyed him admiringly. ‘You are truly atrocious, you know.’
‘I do my best. Now … why does Mrs Fawcett think Arabella mistrusts the maids?’
She groaned. ‘Symonds didn’t trouble you with that, did he? It’s nothing of the sort and so I told Mrs Fawcett this morning when she broached the subject with me. It’s merely that Arabella’s bed is always made and the room tidied before the maids go in each day. They thought her own girl, Annie, didn’t know that it isn’t a lady’s maid’s responsibility to perform these tasks. But when they told her so, she let slip that Arabella does them herself.’ Adeline smiled at him. ‘Now … who does that remind you of?’
‘Of you, my love, when we were first married.’ Rockliffe’s smile was replaced by a thoughtful expression. ‘You, however, were unused to having servants attend you. Arabella is not … or rather, she shouldn’t be.’
‘I thought that myself,’ admitted Adeline. ‘I suppose she may be trying to be as little trouble as possible – though that isn’t a characteristic Louisa’s letters led me to expect. But it’s early days, so perhaps she is still a trifle overwhelmed by ducal pomp and magnificence.’
‘Pomp and magnificence? Do we have some of that?’
‘You have a great deal of it,’ grinned his wife.
‘Really? How gratifying.’
* * *
The following day brought Elizabeth numerous bouquets of flowers from the gentlemen with whom she had danced the night before … all of them, that was, except the Earl of Sherbourne. For five days, she did not once lay eyes on him. She looked in vain for him at the Crewe assembly, the Delahaye soirée, the Linton rout and Drury Lane. And then, seemingly out of the blue, he sent a note inviting her to drive with him.
‘Should I accept?’ she asked Adeline.
‘Do you want to?’
‘I’m not sure. And after our last meeting, I’m surprised he has suggested it.’ She coloured faintly. ‘I asked something I shouldn’t. He wasn’t … pleased.’
‘I daresay – but does that matter?’
This wasn’t something that Elizabeth had previously considered. She said slowly, ‘I think so – though I don’t know why it should.’
Adeline felt the first twinges of disquiet.
‘Be careful, Arabella. Although I’ve a suspicion that Sherbourne is
n’t quite the villain many people think him, he is not a gentleman to take lightly or at face value. He is probably – indeed must be – capable of charm. And I can understand the temptation to find out what lies beneath that chilly exterior. But you should not allow your judgement be clouded by his willingness to do the honourable thing. That can only lead to disappointment.’ She smiled suddenly. ‘And now we should go. Caroline will be expecting us.’
Elizabeth’s heart sank a little. It wasn’t that she did not like Cousin Adeline’s friends because she did – though understanding the various connections between them hadn’t been easy. Some were related by blood, others by marriage and two couples by neither. But there had already been afternoons taking tea in the homes of Lady Elinor and the Marchioness of Amberley and, no matter who else was present, Elizabeth discovered that she could always be sure of finding Cassie Audley, Caroline Sarre and Madeleine Wynstanton there as well. All this was perfectly fine – even comforting. But because the last year had seemingly seen a procession of happy events, Elizabeth had begun to feel that she was straying into a meeting of the Young Mothers’ Society. In short, however the conversation began, it inevitably ended with babies.
Rosalind Amberley’s three year-old son now had a nine-month-old sister. Lady Nell was the proud mama of three-month-old Charlotte and Caroline Sarre of six-month-old Benedict while both Cassie and Madeleine were newly pregnant for the first time. And unfortunately it didn’t stop there. The ladies also talked about other friends, currently absent from town. Thus Elizabeth learned that Althea Ingram had given her husband twins … and that, having previously adopted a little girl, Philip and Isabel Vernon had finally been blessed with a son of their own. In addition to their children, all these ladies had loving husbands and blissfully happy marriages. And though Elizabeth tried hard not to envy them, she was becoming depressingly aware that she herself would never have any of these things. When these weeks in London were over, she would go home and either dwindle into an old maid in the house where she had been born or do what she had intended to do before she’d let Belle persuade her otherwise and seek a position. Neither was an alluring prospect.
Today at Lady Sarre’s small house in Cork Street, there was a new face. A beautiful dark-haired lady who was introduced to her as Madame Delacroix and who was apparently Madeleine Wynstanton’s sister-in-law. Although something about the lady’s eyes seemed familiar, Elizabeth did not immediately make the connection. She merely sighed inwardly when the other ladies asked the newcomer whether Etienne was still teething. Then, a little later, the lady crossed the room to sit at her side and murmured, ‘I don’t think you’ve quite realised who I am, have you?’
Baffled, Elizabeth said, ‘I’m sorry?’
‘They told you that Madeleine – Lady Nicholas – is my husband’s sister.’ Genevieve smiled a little. ‘You’ll meet Aristide later when he and some of the other gentlemen arrive. But everyone always feels awkward about mentioning my half-brother in my hearing … so they don’t, even though today they probably should have done so.’ She paused, a tiny frown creasing her brow. ‘He is Lord Sherbourne.’
‘Lord Sherbourne?’ echoed Elizabeth faintly. ‘Oh.’
‘Precisely. I understand that you recently spent some time in his company. I can’t imagine you found that enjoyable or even comfortable. He is not always … pleasant.’
‘Perhaps not,’ agreed Elizabeth carefully. ‘But neither is he always unpleasant. And had it not been for his assistance, my maid and I would have been stranded miles from London without any means of completing our journey. So I’m in his lordship’s debt.’
The frown vanished and Genevieve said, ‘Of course. Please forgive my asking. It’s just that Ralph and I have never got on well and his attitude towards my husband has fractured our relationship completely. Sometimes it’s hard to remember that other people see a side of his character that he has never shown to me.’
‘Lord Sherbourne dislikes Monsieur Delacroix?’
Unexpectedly, Genevieve laughed. ‘You could say that – and the feeling is entirely mutual. But what Ralph really objects to is that Aristide owns a gaming-house. God forbid, you see, that a Harcourt should marry anyone who actually works for a living.’
What that told Elizabeth was that if Ralph Sherbourne knew she was lowly Mistress Marsden from the vicarage in Knaresborough, he wouldn’t be taking her driving. The knowledge twisted something behind her ribs but she said merely, ‘I see. But that is a fairly commonplace sort of attitude amongst the ton, isn’t it? And perhaps his lordship will get used to the idea in time.’
‘I suppose anything is possible,’ agreed Genevieve, rising and shaking out the skirts of her gold-striped taffeta. ‘But neither Aristide nor I are holding our breath.’
* * *
Lord Sherbourne was by no means convinced of the wisdom of that invitation. He suspected that Mistress Brandon would refuse it or be advised to do so … and told himself that that would probably be for the best. Rockliffe’s stratagems to crush gossip might be working in his own circles but, in those Ralph frequented, Philippa’s poison was beginning to leak out and was having the effect of dredging up the past along with the present. Ralph supposed Rockliffe must know this and be taking measures to combat it. But if, against all expectation, those measures failed … if Arabella Brandon’s name appeared in one of the scandal-sheets next to his own … marriage might yet become the only solution. And Ralph was by no means blind to the advantages of a well-bred bride who, not being fresh from the schoolroom, was actually capable of holding an intelligent conversation.
He didn’t think that living with Arabella would be a hardship; and bedding her certainly wouldn’t be. But beyond his personal feelings was one inescapable fact. The earldom had to be secured – and the debacle with Cedric only increased the urgency.
The library door banged against the wall as Bertram erupted into the room clutching a note. ‘Ceddie says you’re making him marry the Belcher chit. You ain’t, are you?’
‘Yes.’
This stopped Bertram in his tracks, his mouth agape. Finally he said, ‘I say, Ralph … you can’t mean it. Not really. Ceddie wed to a farmer’s daughter? After everything you said about Genevieve marrying that fellow who owns Sinclairs? This is worse, ain’t it?’
‘It is necessary,’ replied Ralph. ‘After the way he has behaved, Cedric is lucky the girl still wants him. For the rest, I am washing my hands of him.’ He looked up into his brother’s witless gaze. ‘Take it as a warning, Bertram. The next time you run into trouble, I may wash them of you with equal rapidity. Your days of expecting me to prop you up are over. It is time you learned to take responsibility for your own actions … just as I have to do.’ Ralph turned away and picked up his glass. ‘As for Cedric, he will doubtless require you to stand up for him at his wedding so I suggest you return to Gardington and hold his hand until the happy day. Close the door quietly on your way out.’
* * *
At much the same time and having spent an evening watching Arabella holding no less than four potential admirers at arms’ length with cool smiles and almost monosyllabic answers, Adeline said, ‘Do you know, Tracy … I’m beginning to think that Arabella is almost too sedate – which is odd when her mother described her as being something of a hoyden.’ She paused for a moment and then added, ‘Actually, she isn’t as Louisa described her in other ways – her looks, for example. Louisa said she was no more than passably pretty – which is not even close to the truth.’
‘No,’ he agreed thoughtfully. ‘It isn’t, is it?’
Adeline shifted in the curve of his arm to look into his face. ‘What are you thinking?’
‘I am thinking that, when added to the business of her tidying her own rooms, there seems to be one or two discrepancies too many. My suspicious nature, I suppose.’
‘You have a theory?’
‘Not exactly. What I have is a thought I really do not want.’
‘Which is what?’
Adeline stared at him incredulously.
‘You think they changed places? Without anyone being aware of it? No. They can’t have done so, surely? And why on earth would they?’
‘I have no idea. I am only entertaining the notion at all because I can think of no other way to account for Louisa seeming not to know her own daughter. Can you?’
‘No. If you put it that way … no, I can’t. But it’s too preposterous!’
‘Quite. So preposterous that they may have thought no one would ever suspect it.’
‘Clearly, they didn’t bargain for you, then.’
‘Thank you ... I think.’ Rockliffe paused, considering the matter. ‘However, as you say the concept does rather over-stretch the bounds of credulity, does it not?’
‘That is putting it mildly. No. There has to be some other --’ She stopped abruptly. ‘Oh. I’ve just remembered something else that has bothered me from time to time.’
‘And that is?’
‘Her clothes. They are lovely … but not the colours which would suit her best. And once or twice I’ve felt that they don’t fit as perfectly as they should.’