by Stella Riley
Several people laughed.
Lady Amberley said, ‘What is his lordship’s instrument?’
‘The harpsichord.’ Arabella swung round to face the room, glowing with excitement and pride. ‘He is brilliant! He plays for hours on end without a scrap of music in front of him and he composes and he’s already given a concert in Vienna. Just wait till you hear him!’
‘I can tell,’ smiled the marchioness, ‘that you are not at all biased.’
‘No. I’m not.’ And to Rockliffe, ‘Am I, your Grace?’
‘You are not,’ he agreed. ‘But let me make one thing very clear. You will not inform his lordship of my intentions until I have done so myself. And that is quite final.’
Arabella opened her mouth to argue, then sensibly closed it again and nodded.
‘Excellent.’ Toying absently with a silver snuff-box, the duke turned back to the rest of his guests. ‘If Chalfont was not something completely outside the common way, you may believe that I would not be exerting myself on his behalf. As it is, he is exceptionally gifted and, if matters are handled correctly, will take London by storm. Consequently, Adeline and I have agreed that his debut will be made in this house, before a specially invited audience.’
‘My agreement had little to do with it,’ remarked Adeline dryly, ‘though I’ll confess to a large degree of curiosity.’
‘And curiosity is what I wish to create,’ nodded Rockliffe. ‘A few whispers about my having discovered that the lost earl is, in fact, a hitherto unknown virtuoso and rumours that his lordship’s first performance will be by invitation only. That should be sufficient to stimulate speculation whilst also deflecting attention from Arabella and Elizabeth.’ He sent a gentle smile around the room. ‘I leave the matter in your capable hands.’
Throughout all of this, Ralph wondered whether Elizabeth had told Rockliffe that he already knew the secret or had asked that he be invited so that she wouldn’t have to. He waited until conversation became general before approaching her to say quietly, ‘When did Rockliffe produce your cousin?’
‘Yesterday. The first I knew of it was when she walked in with him.’
‘Quite a shock, I imagine.’
‘Yes.’ She took a breath and met Ralph’s eyes. ‘I haven’t told the duke and duchess that I confided in you. I didn’t want to have to explain why I had.’
‘Thank you.’ He smiled at her. ‘Your cousin did an excellent job of delivering the prepared speech. Had I not known better, I would have thought it spontaneous. And it was noble of her to shoulder all the blame.’
‘She insisted on it.’
‘Ah. Most commendable,’ murmured Ralph. ‘Are you feeling duly relieved?’
‘I will be after Friday evening.’ She hesitated and then said, ‘Will you be attending the Queensberry Ball?’
His smile became caustic. ‘Her Grace has neglected to send me a card. But Rockliffe has chosen well. The Queensberry Ball is one of the great events of the season and will be the perfect occasion for you and your cousin to resume your own identities.’ He paused, gauging her expression. ‘You need not be nervous. You are under Rockliffe’s protection. And since he is prepared to accept a small chip in the veneer of his legendary reputation, it will go without a hitch.’
‘Yes. I suppose so. And it is good of him – because I’m sure he can’t like it.’
Ralph’s tone grew mildly sardonic.
‘Don’t be too grateful, my dear. It is a very small chip – no more than a scratch, really. In no time at all, society will recall that Rockliffe had never seen either of you before … from where it will be a short step to marvelling that he should work it out at all. And in the meantime, he intends to have everyone talking about his harpsichord virtuoso. His Grace,’ concluded Ralph, ‘invariably has at least one ace up his sleeve.’ He paused, glancing away from her. ‘Ah. Here comes your cousin.’
Arabella swept down upon them saying, ‘Are you ever going to introduce me to Lord Sherbourne, Lizzie?’
‘An introduction would seem to be redundant,’ remarked Ralph, bowing. ‘How do you do, Mistress Brandon? That was a masterful performance you gave earlier.’
‘Thank you. ’ Arabella grinned, curtsied and turned to her cousin. ‘Lady Sarre and Mistress Audley want to assure you that tonight’s revelation doesn’t change anything as far as they are concerned. They’re both very kind, aren’t they? On the other hand, Lady Elinor is bursting with curiosity – so you’d better be careful.’
‘Dear me,’ said Ralph mildly, as Elizabeth nodded and moved away to join the other ladies. ‘Never say that there are yet more secrets.’
‘None that need concern anyone here,’ shrugged Arabella. ‘But if we are to talk about secrets … I am wondering why, despite clearly having other friends, Lizzie chose to confide our deception to you?’
Ralph eyed her meditatively. ‘You think Nell Caversham a better choice?’
‘I don’t know her – or any of the other ladies – well enough to judge. What I do know is that Lizzie trusts you more than any of them.’
‘I am honoured.’ He bowed slightly. ‘I am also discreet … if that was your question … and hope, since Rockliffe is unaware of my prior knowledge, that the same is true of you.’
‘Of course it is.’
‘I am duly reassured.’ He paused before adding delicately, ‘May one ask at what point you confided in the mysterious and talented Lord Chalfont?’
‘No. One may not.’ Aside from being irritated by the way he had referred to Julian, Arabella thought she had caught a fleeting glimpse of mocking amusement in those unusual tawny eyes. But since what she really wanted was to find out if Elizabeth’s inexplicable affection for this man was returned, she said pensively, ‘Lizzie’s parents will know the truth by now – as does my own family. Since her father was adamant that she wasn’t to come to London, he will almost certainly demand that she goes home immediately.’
‘Ah. You are asking if I will mind.’
A hint of colour rose to her cheeks. He wasn’t just irritating. He was also quicker than she had thought. Standing her ground, she said pleasantly, ‘And will you?’
Unwilling to admit, even to himself, that he would probably mind a great deal … that recently he only accepted invitations in the hope of meeting Elizabeth … he smiled coolly and said, ‘Oddly enough, I am no more willing to answer that question than you were to discuss Lord Chalfont.’ And putting an end to the conversation, ‘May I fetch you some refreshment?’
* * *
Later, sitting on the end of Elizabeth’s bed and after bubbling with excitement about Julian’s forthcoming concert, Arabella said cautiously, ‘Lord Sherbourne is older than I expected.’
‘He is thirty-five,’ replied Elizabeth, busy braiding her hair for the night. ‘That isn’t old.’
‘No. Of course it isn’t. And he is very elegant.’ She gave a tiny laugh. ‘Compared to Julian, any reasonably tidy gentleman looks elegant … but I’ve a feeling that Lord Sherbourne is never less than immaculate.’
There was a long, thoughtful silence. And then, ‘You didn’t like him, did you?’
Arabella sighed. ‘I didn’t dislike him, Lizzie. To be honest, I didn’t know what to make of him. He’s rather sphinx-like, isn’t he? And cynical … and cold.’
Elizabeth came to curl up beside her.
‘He’s good at hiding his thoughts. But cold? No. I think he shut his emotions away a long time ago and no longer knows how to reach them. And I think he’s lonely.’ She smiled faintly. ‘You think I’m choosing what to believe, don’t you? I’m not.’
Arabella considered this for a moment. She said slowly, ‘I asked him why you confided in him rather than one of the ladies I met tonight. He wouldn’t tell me. Will you?’
‘I told him because he had earned the truth. He trusted me with something personal and painful, even though he had no expectation of being believed. He didn’t have to do that. I hadn’t asked and he knew that I wouldn�
�t but he told me anyway.’
‘Did you believe him?’
‘Completely.’ Elizabeth stretched out a hand to clasp one of Arabella’s. ‘He may offer me marriage or he may not. I don’t know. But you won’t persuade me I’m mistaken in him, Belle. And I’d ask you to suspend judgement until you know him better.’
‘That’s fair, I suppose. Will we see him at the ball on Friday?’
‘Unfortunately not.’ Elizabeth’s mouth twisted wryly. ‘He hasn’t been invited.’
* * *
Queensberry House was ablaze with the light of hundreds of candles and the air, at least at the beginning of the evening, was redolent with the scent of hot-house flowers. Arabella had told herself she would not be nervous because there was really nothing for her to be nervous about. But when she stood in the receiving line … when she and Elizabeth were presented to the Duchess of Queensberry under their own names … and when her Grace’s narrow, arched brows nearly met her hairline … she felt her knees start to tremble.
‘You changed places?’ said the duchess incredulously. ‘I never heard of such a thing! Surely you did not condone this masquerade, Rockliffe?’
‘Until very recently, I was unaware of it,’ he replied urbanely. ‘And I will admit that I did not immediately perceive the humour in it. Age probably has something to do with that. Do you not agree, Margaret?’
The duchess gave a sharp laugh and prodded him with her fan.
‘No, you atrocious man – I do not. And the only reason I forgive you for choosing my ball to tell the ton it’s been hoodwinked is because you’ve been hoodwinked yourself.’ She grinned at Adeline and said, ‘Take him away, my dear. And good luck.’
Arabella released a sigh of relief and, seeing it, Adeline murmured, ‘Don’t relax too soon. That was only the first hurdle.’
‘Their Graces, the Duke and Duchess of Rockliffe.’ The major-domo’s powerful baritone rang out over the strains of the orchestra. ‘Mistress Arabella Brandon and Mistress Elizabeth Marsden.’
At first there was little reaction. Then heads began to turn and a sort of silent whisper seemed to spread through the room … which was when Mr Audley and Lord Sarre strolled over to claim both Arabella and Elizabeth for the quadrille that was currently forming.
Waiting for the music to begin and recognising that the real Mistress Brandon was virtually vibrating with tension, Lord Sarre said, ‘So … tell me about the virtuoso earl. Where did he study?’ And watched with interest as the girl he had thought no more than passably attractive gathered a glow that suddenly made her beautiful.
At the end of the dance when he was escorting her from the floor, Sarre said quietly, ‘I’m sure Rock has told you that, aside from his musical ability, it will be best to say as little as possible about Lord Chalfont, which means you’ll have to find some way of dodging the questions. When in difficulty, my advice is to raise your brows and say nothing at all until he or she begins to wish they had not asked.’
Arabella laughed up into silver-grey eyes. ‘I can imagine that working for you, my lord. However, I’m not sure that I have the necessary stature.’
In fact, mostly thanks to what Adeline called her husband’s ‘looming presence’ and the fact that the girls were never left completely alone to fend for themselves, the evening progressed more smoothly than either Arabella or Elizabeth had expected. There was a great deal of surprise but little evident shock; and though some ladies shook a reproving head, many others were inclined to consider the charade audaciously amusing. The gentlemen, of course, enjoyed a good many jokes at Rockliffe’s expense but soon discovered that he was impervious to provocation and consistently able to turn the tables.
Everything, in fact, went beautifully until Elizabeth entered the ladies’ retiring room … and found herself face to face with Philippa Sutherland.
‘Dear me,’ said her ladyship. ‘If it isn’t the imposter.’
Elizabeth’s nerves tightened and, realising that they were alone, she was briefly tempted to say, And good evening to you, Lady Spite. But because she refused to sink to this woman’s level, she said merely, ‘Not any more, I’m happy to say. Goodbye, Lady Sutherland.’
Seeing her about to walk out, Philippa said tauntingly, ‘Don’t go. Only think what a lovely chat we could have! Or are you too scared to face me?’
Turning slowly, Elizabeth surveyed her from plumed headdress to jewelled slippers.
‘Hardly. As for your invitation to chat … well, let us just agree that it would be a mistake.’ And for the second time, she turned to leave.
‘Ralph won’t marry you now, you know. Not Miss Nobody from nowhere.’ Philippa waited until Elizabeth once again pivoted slowly to face her. ‘He might have, I suppose … while he thought your family wealthy and if I had kept the gossip-mill turning … though even then it was unlikely. But the remote possibility of it was why I stopped telling what I knew. You may have enjoyed sharing his bed for a time but I can guarantee that you wouldn’t have enjoyed being married to him if he felt he’d been forced into it.’
‘I am confused,’ remarked Elizabeth. ‘You are commiserating with me because Lord Sherbourne will no longer consider me a fit bride and simultaneously congratulating me on escaping an enforced marriage. Which is it? As to the reason you stopped smearing my reputation – I suspect it was less to do with my future welfare than anxiety about what Rockliffe might do if you didn’t.’
‘Believe that if you wish.’ Philippa’s laugh was a little off-key. ‘I daresay you know that Ralph wanted to marry me – was quite desperately in love with me, in fact. And yet, despite swearing eternal devotion, he murdered one of my brothers in cold blood. Doesn’t that tell you what sort of man he is?’
‘No.’ Elizabeth decided to meet fire with fire. ‘You can stop pretending. I know how your brother died – and so do you. Your other brother was a witness to it and though he may have chosen to lie to the world, I can’t believe he lied to you.’ She paused, holding the other woman’s gaze. ‘Your brother wasn’t murdered. He committed an act of desperation bordering on insanity. Precisely what he thought to escape by that act is the only piece of the puzzle that I don’t have. But those pieces I do have lead me to suppose that, whatever your brother’s sins may have been, you were not completely innocent yourself.’
Just for a second, Philippa froze and some of her colour leaked away. Then, hearing voices in the corridor outside, she snapped, ‘You are delusional and I am leaving.’
Aware that they would soon have an audience, Elizabeth stepped into her path and said, ‘You wanted to chat – so let us chat. You don’t hate Lord Sherbourne because he killed your brother. You’re terrified of him because he knows something about you. And you imagine that if you continue blackening his name at every opportunity --’
She was forced to stop speaking as Lady Sutherland attempted to shove past her. Instinctively, Elizabeth stood her ground and shoved back. Behind her, someone giggled.
‘You blacken Lord Sherbourne’s name,’ Elizabeth repeated grimly, ‘so that, if he should speak out, everyone will dismiss it as a case of tit-for-tat.’ Folding her arms and still blocking the doorway, she added, ‘Personally, I think you’d do better to stop provoking him. If he hasn’t said anything in seven years, he won’t start now. You ought to be more worried about what you will do if I confide my suspicions to a few friends – because the gossip-mill you are so fond of works both ways, doesn’t it?’
And stepping abruptly aside, she let Philippa storm by both herself and the two unknown and very young ladies hovering at the door with their eyes on stalks.
~ * * ~ * * ~
CHAPTER TWENTY
Three days after Arabella’s departure, Julian received the first of several letters. It was from Arabella and it told him that she missed him and then, after inexplicable urgings for him to visit a tailor, apologised for forgetting to warn him that she had written to her brother.
I wanted to tell Max that Rockliffe knew so he co
uld prepare Mama, she had written, but I was worried about leaving you and the children, so I got a bit distracted and said more than I should have. At any rate, I wanted to warn you that Max may write to you or even send one of his own people who can advise you better than old Mr Ridley. Rockliffe will also be writing to you – but I’m forbidden to say any more about that.
Although he was not entirely sure what most of this meant, it still made Julian smile. By contrast, the duke’s letter which arrived the next day, left him light-headed with shock, disbelief and an urgent need to sit down.
Rockliffe came directly to the point.
From the little I heard, I have concluded that a gift as rare as yours should not be wasted. I can offer you both a platform and an audience – and Arabella has left me in little doubt that you want them. I imagine that your repertoire is equal to the task of preparing a recital programme in a relatively short space of time and this I leave in your hands. But rather than attempting to make all the necessary arrangements by letter, I am sending my secretary, Matthew Bennett, to discuss them with you in person. I trust that this will meet with your approval.
Yours etc.
It took Julian the best part of the afternoon to convince himself that this was real … that the duke’s letter was not some macabre practical joke and that Rockliffe meant what he said. And even then, he kept it to himself in case there was some mistake. But the following day brought an deliriously ecstatic letter from Arabella; and two days after that a cheerful, pleasant-faced young gentleman arrived on the doorstep.
Holding out his hand, he said, ‘How do you do, my lord? I’m Matthew Bennett, Rockliffe’s secretary. I believe you’ve been expecting me.’
And that was when it finally started to sink in that this was really happening.
‘With regard to the practicalities,’ Mr Bennett began, ‘the duke feels that your debut should be made under his own roof, before an exclusive, specially-invited audience. He says this will set up a clamour among those who aren’t invited but, more importantly, the first to hear you play will be people with either the influence or the power to promote you further.’ He glanced up, grinning, from his notes. ‘All right so far, sir? You’re looking a bit stunned.’