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Authors: Stella Riley

Tags: #romance, #london, #secrets, #scandal, #blackmail, #18th century

Mesalliance (29 page)

BOOK: Mesalliance
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‘Extremely
plain.’ Adeline reached towards her coffee cup, then, realising
that her hand was shaking, withdrew it to the safety of her lap.
‘Yes.’

‘Good.’ For the
first time that morning, the merest glimmer of his usual expression
entered his eyes. ‘They say patience is a virtue and that virtue
brings its own rewards. I am still hoping that may prove true. In
the meantime, if you should decide to tell me what is worrying you,
my door is always open.’ He pushed back his chair and stood up.
‘And now I am afraid you must excuse me. I have an appointment this
morning.’

‘Of
course.’

‘Ah.’ This as
he turned to go, ‘Just one thing more. I feel I should, in all
fairness, withdraw my embargo with regard to your various cavaliers
attending your
toilette
… since, for the foreseeable future
at least, I will not be attending it myself.’

The door closed
softly behind him. Adeline pressed the heels of her hands over her
eyes and realised that she felt sick.

*

An hour later
and equipped with all his customary
sangfroid
, Rockliffe
received his man of law and laid before him the fruits of his visit
to Sir Roland Franklin. Then, despite Mr Osborne’s air of gathering
gloom, he gently requested him to journey to Paris in search of
Michel du Plessis.

‘But your Grace
– it is a near impossibility!’ said the lawyer incredulously. ‘The
address is six years old. The gentleman may be anywhere by now. He
may even be dead!’

‘Or he may not.
Look on the bright side, Mr Osborne. I am giving you the chance to
explore France at my expense.’

Mr Osborne
shuddered.

‘You don’t find
the prospect alluring, I see,’ remarked the Duke with the faintest
suspicion of amusement. ‘Have you something against foreign
travel?’

‘My French,’
replied the lawyer, thinking miserably of sea-sickness, strange
indigestible food and flea-infested inns, ‘is not of the highest
order.’

‘But adequate,
my dear fellow. I am sure that it is adequate. And the task is not
as hopeless as you may think. We know from the letters that du
Plessis was a military man, serving for a time under one Maréchal
Rebec … and he, at least, should not be difficult to trace.’
Rockliffe paused, fingering the miniature of Joanna. ‘You may also
take this. But I would ask you to treat it with great care as I
hope, one day, to give it to my wife.’

‘Does her Grace
know?’ asked Mr Osborne weakly.

‘No. Put
yourself in her position, if you can. After a lifetime of
ignorance, what use do you suppose half a story would be to
you?’

‘Very little,
your Grace.’

‘None at all,
Mr Osborne. And that is why you are going to France with all
possible speed and, once there, to make what discoveries you can.’
With a peculiar glinting smile that veiled the magisterial reality,
Rockliffe handed over a substantial packet of papers. ‘I think you
will find everything you need. Money for the immediate future, a
draft on my Paris bankers and a letter instructing Captain Lennox
to put both himself and my yacht at your disposal. You will find
the
Boreas
at Southampton. If you leave this morning, you
may – weather permitting – sail on tomorrow’s evening tide. Do you
have any further questions?’

‘No,’ said the
little man unhappily. ‘That is – no, your Grace.’

‘Then I will
wish you Godspeed, Mr Osborne. Good luck – and good hunting.’

*

That evening
Rockliffe did not, as he had said, attend Adeline’s
toilette
and, when she joined him downstairs with Nell, he merely kissed her
hand lightly and complimented her on choosing the sapphires to set
off her silver-grey brocade gown. Despite the misery in her heart,
Adeline’s bones melted at the sight of him and she knew a desperate
longing to touch the immaculately powdered head, bending over her
hand. As always, he looked magnificent and, as always, she was
dazzled by it.

Since the
Cavendish House ball was regarded as one of the highlights of the
social season, the rooms were already crowded and Adeline looked
nervously about her for the willowy figure of her uncle.
Mercifully, she did not see it and soon, finding herself accosted
by Thea, she discovered why.

‘Oh – Adeline!’
Althea’s eyes were wide with excitement. ‘You’ll never guess what
Andy’s done!’

‘Andy?’ queried
Adeline, not really attending.

‘Andrew – our
brother, Andrew. He’s run off with Lizzie Pickering!’

This got
through. ‘He’s
what
?’

‘Run off with
Lizzie. Mama is furious. She’s sent Uncle Richard home to make Papa
do something about it. Only I should think it’s too late by now,
wouldn’t you?’

‘Very
probably,’ agreed Adeline, weak with relief. ‘I take it your papa
didn’t come and break the news himself?’

‘No. He just
sent a letter. I don’t think he minds very much. He likes Lizzie. I
used to think Mama liked her, too – but it seems not. I suppose
that’s why Andrew thought they’d better elope. It’s awfully sudden,
though. I hadn’t the least notion of them caring for each other.
None of us had. And, of course, Di is as mad as fire about it.’

It was probably
the longest speech Althea had ever made in her life. Adeline smiled
encouragingly and said, ‘Why is that?’

‘Well, she
says
it’s because Lizzie is a Nobody,’ came the confiding
reply. ‘But I think it’s really because she never thought to see
Lizzie married before her. Is that horrid?’

‘No. Just
perceptive. And where is Diana this evening?’

‘At home in a
temper. Mama said she wasn’t fit to come.’

‘Oh? Well, I’m
sure Mama knows best,’ responded Adeline with a glimmer of her
usual irony. ‘And, in the meantime, you are free to enjoy yourself
… speaking of which, I suspect that here is Mr Ingram on his way to
claim you.’

Althea blushed
and, so softly that even Adeline failed to hear her, said ‘Oh. I do
hope so.’

On the other
side of the room, Rockliffe was engaging Charles Fox in lazy
conversation whilst watching Nell flirt her way through a gavotte
with Harry Caversham.

‘Do you expect
them to make a match of it?’ enquired Mr Fox, following his
gaze.

‘I expect
nothing. I merely await events,’ responded the Duke placidly. ‘And
just now I am waiting – in vain, it would seem – to hear the gossip
of the last three days.’

‘There’s little
enough to tell, my dear – would that there were! But let me see.
Brackenbury’s wife has given him yet another girl … Marcus
Sheringham has retired to his estates to escape the duns and – ah
yes! Mistress Diana Franklin is said to have been overheard
remarking that your delightful wife … er … entrapped you into
marriage.’

His Grace’s
expression remained completely unchanged.

‘Indeed? And
what, dear Charles, do you make of that, I wonder?’

‘Nothing – save
that the young lady is in a fair way to making herself ridiculous,’
replied Mr Fox calmly. He flicked open his snuff-box and added
languidly, ‘I doubt – were the town not so damned dull these days –
that I’d have mentioned it at all.’

‘I rejoice to
hear it,’ said Rockliffe. And then, raising his quizzing-glass,
‘You know, Charles … that is a very pretty box.’

‘Yes. I thought
you’d like it.’

‘You were
right. Unless I am mistaken … one of Mr Wedgewood’s pieces?’

‘Specially
commissioned,’ nodded Mr Fox. ‘Are you sorry that you didn’t think
of it?’

‘Do you know, I
believe I am.’ The Duke allowed his gaze to travel meditatively to
his friend’s coat. ‘But if I had … you may be sure that I would
never have allowed it near that particular shade of green. Garish,
Charles – definitely garish.’

At the end of
the gavotte, Harry smiled cloudlessly down on Nell and informed her
that he had seldom enjoyed a dance more. She dimpled back at him
and waited archly for him to beg her to partner him again. He
didn’t. Instead, he escorted her cheerfully back to Adeline and
then went off to claim his dance with Cassie. He did not even seem
disposed to linger.

Nell’s eyes
followed him thoughtfully for a moment and then a martial gleam
dawned. Two, she decided sagely, could play at that game. Amongst
the knot of gentlemen clustered about Adeline were a number of her
own admirers. She resolved to dance with them all … and began by
bestowing her hand upon young Mr Petworth with such warmth that he
was quite overcome.

She kept a
discreet eye on Lord Harry. After Cassie, he progressed to Althea
and then Adeline. Then, sickeningly, he danced with Cassie again.
Nell’s heart plummeted inexplicably, causing her attention to
wander briefly … which was how she came to accept Sir Jasper
Brierley’s hand for the minuet.

Not, of course,
that she’d meant to ignore him. But, after what Rock had said that
morning and now that she was feeling so much better about Harry,
she had resolved to gradually end her flirtation with him. It was
likely, in any case, that she’d had the best out of it – and it
would be silly to wait until
he
tired of
her
. But
here he was being as charming and entertaining as ever – and so
understanding that she found herself confiding Rock’s total
rejection of the Ridotto Scheme … which only went to show how one
thing had a habit of leading to another.

She went home
in a fever of indecision which, characteristically, could have only
one result. By morning, she had persuaded herself that it really
was too famous an escapade to be missed – yet perfectly harmless so
long as she was careful.

‘And I
will
be careful,’ she thought. ‘So careful no one need ever
know. And then I’ll be good again.’

*

A week later
when Rockliffe had left for a hand of picquet at White’s with Jack,
Adeline was informed by her maid that Lady Elinor had a sick
headache and begged to be excused from attending Lady Crewe’s
assembly. Not having previously supposed that Nell knew what a
headache
was
, Adeline was surprised and not a little
concerned to find the sufferer lying down on her bed with the
curtains drawn and a cologne-soaked handkerchief adorning her
brow.

‘I’m sorry,’
whispered Nell bravely, ‘but I really don’t think I can go.’

‘Don’t
apologise. Just lie still and I’ll have Jeanne make up a tisane for
you. In fact, I’ve a good mind to do it myself. It won’t disappoint
me in the least to miss tonight’s assembly.’

‘Oh no! You
mustn’t think of it,’ said Nell. ‘I – I should feel so guilty. And
Isabel promised to take us up in her carriage, didn’t she?’

‘Yes. But
Isabel will understand. And I don’t care to leave you. You are
extremely pale.’

‘I know – I
mean, I daresay I am. But all I want is to be left alone … and if I
have a tisane, I shall sleep, you know. Do go, Adeline. I’d feel so
much better if you did.’

Adeline
hesitated and then allowed herself to be persuaded. But an
indeterminate prickle of unease persisted at the back of her mind –
and this, had she known it, was entirely justified. For as soon as
she had left the house, Nell leapt from her bed, washed the white
hair-powder from her face and began furnishing her maid with a
feu-de-joie
of instructions.

Lady Crewe’s
assembly was every bit as tedious and crowded as Adeline had
feared. She suppressed a yawn, tried to appear fascinated by what
Mr Walpole was saying and let her mind drift wistfully to Tracy.
Unless they had a shared engagement, she found she saw very little
of him these days … and, when she did, he was pleasant but rather
distant. She found that she missed him … and wondered if he
intended that she should. But it couldn’t last. She knew that.
Sooner or later they would find themselves back where they had been
on the night of his return – and the question facing her would be
the same. The only difference might be that her chances of
responding as she would wish would be greater if only her evil
uncle would leave her alone.

An hour later
she was just wondering if Isabel would mind her taking a chair and
going home when Harry Caversham put in his usual belated appearance
and found his way to her side.

She said
resignedly, ‘You really are dreadful, you know. Don’t you
ever
arrive at a respectable time?’

‘It’s not much
after eleven,’ he grinned. ‘And no one minds. It’s expected of me.
As a matter of fact, I wasn’t planning to come at all – only the
devil’s in the cards and Rock happened to mention that you were
here so I thought I’d look in.’

For the first
time in a week, Adeline laughed.

‘You’re
well-served, then. Nell’s at home with a headache.’


What
?’
Harry’s head jerked round and his tone caused at least five other
guests to halt in their tracks. ‘You’re saying Nell cried off
because of a headache?’

‘Yes.’

‘And you
believed
her?’

‘Yes,’ said
Adeline again, this time with mild irritation. And then,
differently, ‘Oh.’

‘Oh,’ agreed
Harry sardonically. ‘Nell never had a headache in her life.’

‘Well, I
thought that myself. Only she looked so -- ’

‘Forget how she
looked,’ he cut in ruthlessly, already steering her across the
room. ‘Come on and be quick about it. For what you wouldn’t know
but Rock ought to have told you is that Nell’s done this before.
And if she’s at home, I’m a Dutchman.’

*

‘You’re no
Dutchman,’ said Adeline bitterly, returning breathlessly to the
salon after visiting Nell’s room. ‘Her maid doesn’t know where she
is but I think I do. She’s taken a domino.’

‘Oh Christ,’
groaned Harry. ‘Vauxhall? Ranelagh?’

‘Covent
Garden,’ came the flat response. ‘She’s been teasing Tracy to take
her but he refused.’

BOOK: Mesalliance
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