Lynne Connolly (21 page)

I stared at her, the implications rocketing through me. “Damn.”

“What happened?”

“Not what you think.”

“You’re coming with me.”

“No, you’d better come with me. I came armoured.”

She raised a brow but didn’t demur. It took ten minutes for us to take our leave and I knew why. Everyone wanted a good look. If I fiddled with my hair it would only draw attention to the mark, so I pasted on that society face and did my best. Serene, I hoped, and at the very least unperturbed.

We left, and once inside the carriage, I groaned. “I wanted to show my face. I thought they’d talk.”

“They will and are.”

“What are they saying? Please tell me, Caroline, I need to know.”

She gazed at me, sorrow in her eyes. “That Richard went to a house of ill repute a few nights ago and was seen carrying a woman up the stairs to the bedroom. When approached, he lost his temper and demanded to know what a man was to do when his wife refused her favours.”

I paled. “Oh my God. I never thought of that, but yes, I suppose that kind of tale puts him in a bad light.” I cursed when I realised something else. “And they’ll say that he struck me, won’t they?”

She continued to stare. Careless of who saw me, I shoved back my hair, wincing as my fingers grazed my tender skin. If they’d noticed, there was no point hiding it. “He didn’t. You know there’s bad blood between the Drurys and us, don’t you?” She nodded. “They abducted me, or rather, Julia did, and brought me to the club to engender just this kind of gossip. I was the woman in Richard’s arms, and he was taking me home, not climbing the stairs.”

She let out her breath in a deep sigh. “I knew it was something like that. I knew it couldn’t be true.” She studied me closely. “What will you say?”

I frowned before I forced myself to stop, as that hurt too. “That I was attacked in the street. Just as we were the other night. Richard saved me, and we were close to the club. It’s close enough to the opera house for that to be believable. The club gave us shelter until our carriage arrived.”

“Brilliant.” Richard planted a kiss on my cheek. “Very good, my love. So now society knows we’ve either been unfortunate or that someone has us in his sights. It explains why I’m so careful of you and why I refused to discuss the incident today. I was investigating the matter, trying to discover who hates us enough to hurt us in that way. That should keep the gossips quiet for a while.”

I smiled up at him before he took a seat next to me in our blessedly less formal downstairs parlour. “I prayed I hadn’t contradicted anything you said, but Caroline said she’d wait until I sent her word to spread the story, then she’d enjoy pouring it into sympathetic ears.”

Richard’s face turned grim. “Then she’d better be quick because the first story is gaining ground. Someone, and we don’t have to go far to guess who, has been very fast out of the starting gate.”

I got to my feet with the help of the sofa arm. “I’ll send word straightaway.”

He stood up with me and put his hand on my arm. “Wait. How do you feel?”

“Much better.” My headache had completely gone and I no longer felt disorientated as I had earlier in the day. And because I’d spent so much time in bed, I didn’t feel tired, either.

“Well enough to go out for an hour this evening?”

I considered. “Yes, I think so. I haven’t checked the invitations. What were you thinking of?” I glanced at the various gilt-edged cards wedged into the frame of the mirror above the mantelpiece. We really needed to clear those and find a place for them, as well as the pieces of paper, bills and the like under the clock.

“There’s a ball at Devonshire House.”

Oh Lord, I must have lost count of the days. The Marquis and Marchioness of Hartington were holding a formal ball. Richard would have to go, as Gervase was a political supporter of his lordship, and in any case, the Southwood estate and the Devonshire estate lay close to each other in Derbyshire. Nichols and I had planned my clothes to fit in with Richard’s royal blue coat and breeches. We’d picked out the jewellery and the accessories. One of the key balls of the season when so much business and discussion would take place that the House of Lords might as well shut up shop for the night. We had to go, and I meant
we
.

“I’ll only need an hour to get ready. We have everything ready.”

“You don’t have to go. Forget what I said, I want you to rest. We’ll get through this.”

I didn’t need to see his set features to know he was preparing himself to face a firing squad. “I do. If I don’t, the gossip will get worse, you know it. We have to face them down. We have Caroline busy spreading the word around town, and as soon as Steven hears that version of the story, he’ll help us bruit it about because it puts him in a good light. Julia can contradict him if she likes, but, well, can’t you tell them, in your superior way, that you’re surprised that they take the word of a guttersnipe?”

He laughed and pressed a gentle kiss on to the unhurt part of my brow. “How I love you. You must tell me when you feel tired. The story we’re telling would allow for that, and in any case, I won’t have you exhausted.” He drew me closer for a better, deeper kiss, and if it weren’t for the ball, I doubt either of us would have left the house that night.

Put into motion, Nichols could behave like a well-drilled sergeant major when called upon to dress me in a hurry. She called the housemaid who usually helped her when I needed
la grande toilette
and we set to.

In an hour I stood before the pier glass viewing my appearance critically. A white gown with dark blue petticoat, the robings heavily embroidered with speedwells and forget-me-nots that glittered as I moved. It would do. It drew attention away from the burgeoning stomach that I could no longer hide or constrain. I flicked out my fan and tried a few poses, turned to the side but turned back again quickly. I’d decided to leave my hair unpowdered, although the original plan was to powder. Unfortunately, powder would also have drawn attention to the bruise at the temple, the blue colour forming an unfortunate match to my petticoat. Apart from a layer of fine face powder, I made no attempt to hide the mark. I’d had my hair drawn back as usual, with ringlets curling over my shoulders. I had dressed for battle.

I didn’t need to hear the door, turn around or look into the mirror to know who entered. He came up behind me and bent his head to kiss my shoulder. I also didn’t have to look to know he’d be dressed perfectly. I leaned back into his embrace and caught sight of the dreamy smile on my face. I didn’t hide it. At first I’d felt embarrassed when Richard kissed and caressed me in the presence of servants. I’d been used to treating servants almost as members of the family in my girlhood, but Richard’s kind treated them as if they didn’t exist. It was Not Done even to acknowledge their presence unless one needed their services. Which was why we found it easy to discover the activities that sometimes people would prefer to keep secret.

He nuzzled my temple, the unhurt one. “Are you sure you want to go tonight? I can handle this on my own.”

I turned my head and met his lips for a teasing butterfly kiss. “Not as effectively. Let’s do this properly.”

It was some time before he spoke again. “And before I kiss all the rice powder off your face.” With an indrawn breath, he stepped back resolutely. “My love, our carriage awaits.”

So it did.

Devonshire House didn’t intimidate me as much as Southwood House. Perhaps because it wasn’t mine and never would be. A typical Palladian exterior, somewhat austere, led to a magnificent interior, but I could leave at the end of the evening and return home. I didn’t have to stay, didn’t have to consider my future role there. I liked Devonshire House.

Inside, the house had a sense of liveliness entirely absent from Southwood House. It gave me hope that I could improve the place when my time came, if I tried hard enough.

Our carriage swept through the gathering outside, people collected to gawk at the guests, and I smiled for their benefit, my bruised temple in shadow. I felt horribly aware of it, and it didn’t help that it remained tender and slightly swollen. When I moved I felt it, so I could never forget it.

Richard reached for my hand and gave it a squeeze as we drew to a halt outside the magnificent staircase. By the time the footman opened the door he was ready to step down and guide me out of the coach.

At occasions like these, Richard treated me as if I were made of glass. At first he’d unnerved me, but I came to understand as I saw other ladies treated the same way. It was the style. And Richard had done a lot to create it.

He ushered me tenderly up the ceremonial staircase and into the hall. Outside Devonshire House was austere, almost drab, bedaubed with soot, all straight lines with barely a flourish. Inside, colour exploded, luxury abounded. Like a secret club, the grandest in London.

Maids waited to help us divest ourselves of our outer clothing. Nichols was already here, having left by hackney shortly before we did, and she removed my cloak, gloves and hat, and ensured I was ready to make my appearance. Not that I already hadn’t. The hall swarmed with ladies and maids.

Richard waited, chatting with an acquaintance, but came forward as soon as Nichols rustled away. I laid my hand on his arm, no longer needing to fuss to make certain it was at precisely the right angle, and we went up the stairs together.

I would always feel apprehensive entering such a place. Surrounded by the greatest people in the country, watched and judged for every movement, every word, I usually sought refuge with friends, but tonight I had to move around the room and behave like the wife of one of England’s most powerful commoners, heir to one of the most venerated titles in the land. Because I was that too.

Martha and James were present, so I could transmit the story that we’d agreed on. Martha, comfortable in any society, accepted the tale, expressed her sympathy and left to join the network currently spreading the rumour, planting seeds, dropping parts of the story so that people could put it together themselves. That had been Richard’s idea, to make people work harder for the story, otherwise, he said, they wouldn’t appreciate it.

The other story, the truth, had the lustre of scandal and the thrill of the forbidden. We had a few ideas about that.

As luck had it, I came face-to-face with our host far too soon. He bowed over my hand. “Lady Strang, I hadn’t thought to see you here tonight, but you’re very welcome.”

“Thank you. I won’t allow any street rat to best me. I’ve been looking forward to this ball all month.”

He raised a brow. “Is this the shy little creature I first met?” He’d met me shortly before my wedding. His importance had overwhelmed me then. I knew him better now.

“We all change, my lord. I know better than to ask if your father is well, but I hope he’s comfortable?”

The duke was sinking, but slowly, losing a little of his strength every day, and everyone knew he wasn’t long for the world. But he’d insisted that his son continue the business of the great estate, and Hartington had business of his own to pursue. Political business. This lovely room positively bristled with the most powerful statesmen in the land.

Hart smiled, but it had a wistful edge. “As well as we have a right to expect. He’s at Chatsworth, resting. Will you be at Eyton this summer?”

I glanced down. “I have to stay in London until my confinement ends, but I believe we might. Either that or Oxfordshire. You know we have a house there?”

He nodded. “Although that husband of yours is very protective of his privacy there.”

“I hope you know you’re always welcome.”

His smile grew more genuine. “Thank you.” He offered his arm and we strolled around the ballroom, chatting about inconsequential matters, but I knew why he did this. Lending me his support, adding credence to our story by believing it.

I could see Richard without obviously watching him. He moved towards some people at the corner of the ballroom. They drifted away, nothing obvious, but if he reached that corner, they wouldn’t be there. He changed direction and people watched but didn’t approach, until Freddy came out of a room close by and saw him. He headed straight for Richard, who had a quiet word with him.

My stomach tightened. People stood in small knots, discussing something avidly. Richard and Freddy headed for the other room, presumably the cardroom or something of that nature. In a smaller chamber, they would have either to greet him or snub him. If they cut him, his revenge could be appalling.

We stopped to talk to a couple Hart knew and I had a slight acquaintance with. They were perfectly civil and listened to my half story politely, but they’d already heard the Drurys’ version. The Drurys were, so far, notable by their absence. I asked Hart when we moved on, and nobody heard us.

“You wanted them here?”

“No, sir, and I’m grateful to you for not inviting them, but I don’t wish people to choose sides or even to suppose there’s a side to be on.”

He sighed. “Between us, dear lady, they are a nuisance. They insist on pushing their way into rooms where they are not wanted, and they don’t have the understanding to provide a useful presence.” Politician’s words, but I got his meaning clearly enough.