Rakehell's Widow (13 page)

Mortified and humiliated, she stared at him for a
moment, her pride bruised and her composure wrecked. Then, catching her skirts, she ran from the room, but as
she descended the staircase, it was as if he held her still,
kissed her still….

She didn’t look back as the landau conveyed her away, but her cheeks were damp with tears. “I shall tell you some
home truths which are long overdue and which only honor
has prevented me from saying before.” She stared out at
the passing Mayfair houses, and they seemed to melt away, and suddenly it was a warm August afternoon at Charterleigh again and Robert was presenting her to Piers for the
first time. The glance of his gray eyes was so disturbing,
for it was as if he could see right into her soul, and
the touch of his hand was like a sudden awakening, a
shock which breathed more excitement into her life than
she had ever known before. But Robert had died, and she
believed Piers to have been responsible—how, then, could
it be anything but wicked to be so drawn to him? She
closed her eyes, her head bowed.

The landau entered Berkeley Square and to her horror she
saw a rather travel-stained chaise drawing up outside the house; she recognized it immediately as belonging to the Wallborough steward, Mr. Bateman. Hastily she dabbed
her eyes with her handkerchief, trying to compose herself
and trusting that the marks of her weeping were not too evident. Oh, how she hated this day, already so long and
wearisome, and now quite obviously not finished with yet. The landau came alongside the curb and halted, and taking a deep breath, her head held high, she alighted and entered
the house.

The steward had been shown into the drawing room, and he rose immediately to his feet as she came in. “Good
afternoon, Lady Alabeth.”

“Good afternoon, Mr. Bateman.”

“I trust that you received my brief communication.”

“I did indeed, sir,” she replied, sitting down and gesturing that he should do the same.

He settled himself slowly in a well-remembered way which took her back to her childhood, when it had been a fine adventure to visit him and take Shrewsbury cakes and
a glass of sherry—something of which her father would not
have approved, had he known. The steward still appeared to wear the same gray-powdered wig and even the same
ribbon, and he looked as comfortable and comforting as
ever as he smiled at her, his glance lingering very briefly on
her tear-marked eyes. “And how are you, Lady Alabeth?”

“I’m very well and I trust that I find you the same.”

He nodded. “Perhaps I find it a little more difficult to
rise from my bed these days, but apart from that, I go
along in the same, time-honored way. But enough of these
pleasantries, for I have no doubt that you wish to learn
what I can tell you about Lady Jillian.”

“There is something, then.”

“Oh, yes, I fear that there is. You must understand, my lady, that in speaking to you I am breaking a confidence,
for the Earl wished above all else to hush the whole matter
up.”

Her heart was sinking still further. “Whatever you tell
me will not go further, sir.”

“I know that. Well, it happened last year, when Lady Jillian accompanied the Earl to an autumn ball at Chats
worth. She met Sir Piers Castleton, who is, I fully realize,
the gentleman to whom you were referring in your letter. I
fear that Lady Jillian formed an attachment for him, an
attachment which was in some measure returned, for she
was being indiscreet enough to exchange letters of a certain
intimacy with him. I hasten to add that there was nothing
in the affair to suggest that she had—er—succumbed completely.” He looked a little embarrassed, clearing his
throat and shifting his position just a little. “Indeed,
nothing would have been known of it all had not the Earl
happened upon one of the letters she had written, and on
reading it realized that she was in the habit of going out to keep secret assignations with Sir Piers in Wallborough
Woods.”

“Oh, no!” Alabeth could see Piers’ angry face again as he denied pursuing Jillian. Liar! Despicable liar!

“How they managed to carry on such a liaison without anyone realizing defies comprehension,” went on the
agent, “but they did, and it would probably have con
tinued, had not the incriminating letter been found.”

Piers’ voice rang in Alabeth’s ears. “Until that first time
I met you and your sister in Hyde Park, when I was with
Charles Allister, I had only met Lady Jillian once before—
at Chatsworth, when I danced once with her. I have since met her at Octavia Seaham’s ball and again today, when I
happened to encounter her in Hyde Park when she was out
riding.” Oh, how infamous he was, how shamelessly he
had lied, swearing his innocence when all the time he was
so very guilty.

Mr. Bateman was silent for a moment. “The Earl was naturally very anxious, for Sir Piers was not really very suitable, having been involved in that duel in which the
Russian died, and so when he heard that Sir Piers was
going to Europe this summer, he decided that Lady Jillian
must
be brought out during her lover’s absence, the hope
being that she might make a match and thus be prevented from perhaps ruining her reputation. Then came the Earl’s appointment to the post in Madras, a post which he knew he must accept but which would also interfere with the
supervision of Lady Jillian’s Season. At first it was
intended that Lady Silchester should have charge of every
thing, but then her health broke down.”

“Hence his visit to me.”

“Yes, my lady.”

“I should have been told all this. It was wrong of my
father to keep it from me.”

“I agree, my lady, and indeed I advised him to tell you,
but he felt that it would be better to let it all die down. With Sir Piers being out of the country—”

“He is not out of the country; he is very much here in Town and indeed I spoke with him not half an hour ago.”

The steward stared at her. “Oh, dear!”

“Quite. I find it quite unforgivable of my father to
expect me to take on such a responsibility and yet to
conceal important information which has a great bearing
on the whole thing.”

“He had two reasons for not wishing to tell you, my
lady, and to him they were excellent reasons. To begin
with, he knew that you and Lady Jillian had already fallen
out because of the regrettable affair with Captain Francis
earlier last year, and he had no wish to further antagonize
the differences because of this new development, especially
as the gentleman concerned was Sir Piers Castleton. And second, he didn’t wish to tell you of his anxieties, for he feared that you might feel it reflected on you and all that happened in the past when you met Lord Manvers. He
spent a long evening with me before finally deciding what
to do, my lady, and believe me, he honestly felt that
this course was the best one—for both you and Lady Jil
lian.”

Slowly she got to her feet, crossing to the window and looking out over the square. Well, at last she knew the
truth, after having been lied to on all sides. She stared at
the gently moving plane trees. “Nothing has gone on. And
I’m damned if I’m going to stand here and let you accuse
me of all manner of things of which I am innocent.”

The steward got to his feet. “I have told you all I know,
Lady Alabeth, and I beg you to remember that I have
broken my word to the Earl.”

She managed a smile. “I promised you that I would be
discreet, that I would do nothing to jeopardize your position, and I stand by that promise. I am only too grateful that you trusted me enough to tell me, and you may rest
assured that what has passed between us tonight will go no
further. I just had to know the truth, for it was impossible to know if I was doing the right thing all the time when I
was constantly aware that there were matters I had not
been told.”

“I quite understand that, my lady. I am afraid that Lady Jillian is—well, rather too romantically inclined. She seeks true love and mistakenly believes she has found it in every
handsome gentleman who pays court to her.”

Alabeth gave a small laugh. “I wish, Mr. Bateman, that she would indeed find that true love, for then we would all have some peace.”

He smiled fondly at her. “It will all come out right in the
end.”

“You always were an incurable optimist, sir.”

“A steward must be, if he is to survive, my lady.”

“Yes, I suppose you are right.”

“Well, I must go now.”

“You will not take some refreshment? And surely you
intend to stay overnight?”.

“I have taken a room at a hostelry named the White
Hart, my lady.”

She smiled then. “Which no doubt has the most
iniquitous cockpit in London.”

“It does indeed, my lady.”

“And you’ve brought some of those odious birds with
you from Wallborough?”

“I’ve a mind to show these Londoners how a good Derbyshire bird can lick them.”

“I wish you well, but warn you that the gentlemen of the
White Hart know a thing or two.”

He rubbed the side of his nose with his finger and
winked. “So do I, my lady, so do I.”

When he had gone, she sat down again, thinking things
over—and in particular thinking about how monstrously Piers bad behaved throughout. How
could
he have faced her so blatantly, denying everything and even having the gall to claim that
she
had been making baseless accusa
tions! Baseless? Why, each one was now proved beyond a
doubt to be well founded, each one was now proved
beyond a doubt to be well founded, each one more than
justified, and yet he had heaped scorned upon her, humil
iated her…. And then there was Jillian herself, denied so casually by her noble lover…. What was to become of
her?

At that moment the drawing room door was opened very slowly and Jillian’s tearstained face peeped apprehensively
in.

Alabeth straightened. “Hello, Jillian.”

Jillian came in and closed the door. She was very pale
and nervous, twisting her handkerchief over and over
again and looking thoroughly wretched. “H-have you seen
him?”

“I have.”

The large blue eyes filled with fresh tears. “Oh.”

“Jillian….”

“You know all about the letter, don’t you? That’s why
you went to see Piers today, because you already knew and
feared things were still going on.”

Alabeth was relieved that Jillian had confessed this
much, and she saw no point at all in revealing that the letter’s existence had been discovered
after
the visit to
Piers. “I did not mention the letter to him, Jillian, and he denied absolutely everything anyway.”

Jillian stared at her, her eyes suddenly and surpris
ingly much brighter. “You
didn’t
mention the letter?”

“No.”

“Oh, I’m so glad!” Jillian sat down and it seemed to
Alabeth that she did not know whether to laugh or cry.
The tears in her eyes were certainly different now. “Ala
beth, you’ll never know how relieved I am.”

Alabeth was puzzled, for what difference did mentioning the letter make to it all? Letter or no letter, Piers had
flatly denied any involvement with Jillian, he had showed a
lamentable lack of consideration or gallantry, and yet
Jillian professed herself to be glad. It did not make sense,
for surely bitter tears were more to be expected under the
circumstances….

Jillian seemed, in fact, as if a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She even managed a smile. “I’m
not a-a fallen woman, you know.”

“Jillian!”

“Well, you know what I mean. I’m still as perfect as any
gentleman would expect of a prospective bride.” She bit
her lip then. “I don’t want you to think I—”

“I don’t think anything like that, you know that I
don’t,” interrupted Alabeth gently.

“I’m so sorry for being so very bad to you. Even as I did
it, I knew I was in the wrong, and I promise right here and
now that I shall be a different person from now on.”

Now Alabeth was thoroughly perplexed, for Jillian’s
reaction simply did not add up to the facts. “Jillian, are you sure you’re feeling quite well?”

“I’m feeling very well indeed, truly I am, and I just want
to forget how odious I’ve been. I’ve learned my lesson
now, truly I have, and you won’t have any more trouble from me. I’ll even write to accept the invitation to dine at Lady Dexter’s. There, is that not proof of my good inten
tions?”

Alabeth could not think of anything to say, for this
complete reversal was quite bewildering.

Jillian smiled again, reaching over to take her hand. “I
don’t know why I’ve been so horrible recently, I didn’t really mean any of it. In my heart I knew you only acted out of love for me when you went to Father about that
dreadful Captain Francis, but I simply couldn’t bring
myself to admit it. I think that’s a great deal of my trouble.
I can never bring myself to admit it when I’m in the wrong.
Anyway, I know that I behaved badly then, and I’ve been
behaving badly ever since. It won’t happen again.”