The Keys of Love (16 page)

She did not hear, later, the ceremonious departure of the Prince of Wales and his retinue.

She did not register the deep silence that seemed to settle over Merebury, nor the sky growing ever blacker.

Only once did she swim into consciousness, and it was then she glimpsed a tall figure standing with his elbow on the mantelpiece, staring gloomily into the fire.

“Joe?” she wondered aloud, but the sudden dash of hail against the casement window drowned her frail voice and the figure at the mantelpiece never turned his head.

All that night and during the following day, a storm raged without.

The wind howling down the chimney sounded like hungry wolves. The draught fanned the fire and shadowy flames danced madly on the ceiling.

Henrietta drifted in and out of consciousness. The doctor said that her nerves must indeed have been stretched to breaking point for her to succumb so totally to the fever.

“Rest will cure her sooner than my medicines,” he prognosticated.

Sure enough by evening, her temperature somewhat abated. She was able to sit up in bed and take a little broth.

Nanny blamed herself for ever allowing Henrietta to come to Merebury with the orchestra.

“It's all been too much for you,” she sighed,

“It doesn't matter, Nanny,” she murmured, her eyes closed. “It's been a-an experience.”

“An experience that has made you ill!”

“I'll soon be well again, Nanny, and then we'll set off for London.”

“The sooner the better,” grumbled Nanny.

She was growing increasingly uneasy at Merebury and did not want to tell Henrietta the reason, which was that Prince Vasily was now a guest here himself!

He had visited Lady Butterclere and her
protégée
yesterday, the day after the ball and when the weather grew stormy he was invited to stay the night.

“Have you finished that broth, my dear?”

“Y-yes, Nanny.”

“I'll take the tray down myself. That little maid we have takes an age to answer the bell and then she always has an insolent air on her little pug face.”

She felt Nanny lift the tray and heard her hasten to the door. There was the squeak of the hinge and then low voices before the door was gently closed.

Someone had entered the room, however, as Nanny exited, as footsteps were crossing the room towards her.

After a long silence, Henrietta opened drowsy eyes.

There stood the Duke, his arms outstretched so that either hand rested on each of the two lower canopy posts.

“Mrs. Poody said you took some broth.”

“Y-yes, Your Grace.”

She had only a hazy memory of their last encounter, but she recalled that it had not been a happy one and was therefore perplexed to see him in her room.

Perhaps he wished to check on her progress, eager to have her away from Merebury and out of his life!

“I am sure I shall be well enough to leave soon.”

“Please do not think that is a prospect I anticipate with any great pleasure, Miss Reed.”

Henrietta's pale brow creased wonderingly.

The Duke ran a hand through his hair.

“Last night,” he now began, “I did you a disservice, Miss Reed. I did allow myself to be persuaded that your nocturnal wandering was not for innocent reasons.”

Henrietta made as if to speak, but the Duke held up a silencing hand.

“I have come tonight to apologise for my error and to make it clear that the offer of my house in London still stands. I have already written to inform the servants that you and Mrs. Poody will be arriving sometime this week depending of course on your state of health.”

His gaze travelled from her eyes to her lips and then he suddenly turned violently away.

“Good God, if I could be but sure ”

“S-sure Your Grace?”

“Nothing. I am babbling, Miss Reed. Put it down to the trials and tribulations of throwing a ball. Followed by grave concern over the health of an esteemed guest.”

He strode to her side and lifted her hand to his lips.

“Now let me bid you goodnight. Sweet Harrietta.”

As she felt the Duke's mouth on her skin, she gave a shudder.

He lifted his head and regarded her with dismay.

“You are still so feverish?”

She wondered that he did not read the yearning in her eyes.

“N-no, Your Grace. Just a little chill.”

The Duke stood for a moment, clasping her hand. Their eyes locked and their mutual breath became as one.

The window rattled at the mercy of a force without that seemed to echo the force they felt within the force that rises mercilessly in unguarded breasts and threatens to overthrow the stoutest heart.

The Duke's grip tightened. It was as if he wished to crush Henrietta's fingers to powder.

Her eyelids fluttered and a moan of ecstasy escaped her lips.

“Oh, God,” groaned the Duke.

He ripped his hand away, letting her own hand drop heavily onto the counterpane and strode to the door.

“Get well, Miss Reed,” he called huskily. “Get well and go to London. There we may develop this intercourse away from prying eyes and insinuating tongues.”

The door closed heavily behind him.

Henrietta's heart took some minutes to return to its regular beat.

It was still racing when Nanny came in with grapes and a glass of hot lemon and sugar.

She propped herself up and gazed at the dancing fire. She could feel the pulse in her neck throbbing wildly.

“You're still looking rather flushed, my dear,” said Nanny worriedly.

“It's nothing, the heat of the fire that is all. Why don't you go and lie down for a while now. I am fine.”

Nanny left her reluctantly and she snuggled against the pillows and stared dreamily ahead.

The Duke had reiterated the offer of his house in London and she and Nanny could stay there for a few days before venturing on to Lushwood, although she wondered how easy it would be for her to remain Harrietta Reed in a City where so many knew her as Henrietta Radford.

The idea that the Duke would come and visit her was exciting beyond measure.

Yet it did not seem quite right for him to suggest it. He had seemed surprised, almost outraged, when she had enquired if Miss Foss would accompany him.

Did he intend to travel alone and did he intend his visits to be secret? If so, why?

And what did he mean when he mentioned ‘
prying
eyes and insinuating tongues
?'

The casement window rattled again. In the hearth coals sizzled loudly as rain was blown down the chimney.

She shivered and drew the counterpane to her chin.

The door to her room creaked as it slowly opened and she could not see at first who had entered, although she heard footsteps cross the room.

Two figures came into view at the end of the bed.

It was Lady Butterclere with the pug-faced maid, grinning just like a malicious monkey behind the quivering bulk of her mistress.

Lady Butterclere's eyes were slits of fury.

“What does this mean?” she screeched.

Henrietta was bewildered.

“W-what does what mean?”

“This, this!”

Lady Butterclere tapped a letter that lay folded on her palm.

“I d-don't know. What is it?”

“
What is it, what is it
?” mocked the maid. “Lawks, your Ladyship, isn't she a dizzembler. I'm glad I had the sense to deliver it to
you
and not to
her
.”

“Be quiet,” snapped Lady Butterclere.

“You don't know what is written here?” she waved the letter at Henrietta.

“H-how can I? I have not even seen it until now.”

Lady Butterclere shook the letter open and began to read aloud.

“
Dear Miss Reed, here is the address of my London
property. The servants will endeavour to make your stay as
comfortable as possible. I look forward to calling upon you
as soon as I am able to travel to London
.
Meanwhile, I am
at your devoted service until you leave Merebury
.”

Lady Butterclere's eyes almost bulged with outrage from their sockets as she went on,

“Yes, and there it is, written down as bold as brass.
40 Manchester Square
. All the beds made up and all the silver polished for the arrival of the Duke's
hussy
!”

Henrietta's head swam.

“H-hussy?”

Lady Butterclere sneered.

“What else did you think you would be? His wife? Surely you just cannot be so naïve as to be unaware of the significance of the Duke's offer? Manchester Square, my dear, is where he keeps his mistresses. And you are to be the next. For as long as you keep his interest, that is.”

Henrietta gripped the counterpane tight.

“M-mistress? I don't believe that is his intention.”

Lady Butterclere's lip curled.

“Really? Did he not suggest that his fiancée would join him when he called on you? Answer me. Did he?”

Henrietta shook her head numbly.

“There you are!” Lady Butterclere almost reared up in triumph. “What can that mean but that he intends to keep his visits to you a secret? And why would he do that if his intentions were honourable?

“His intentions towards Miss Foss are
honourable
. She is the one he will marry and she is the one who will be the next Duchess of Merebury!

“You, my dear, are to be a dirty little secret tucked away behind lowered blinds in a fancy square. And when he is right through with you, you will have neither home nor reputation left!”

Henrietta listened with mounting horror, shrinking under Lady Butterclere's baleful eye. Would nothing stem this poisonous flow?

“You thought you could get him to renounce Miss Foss in your favour, but you were wrong. He would never sully the family name by marrying beneath him. And I am going to make sure that you do not distract his amorous attentions from his fiancée for one second more.

“If you so much as set one foot in that house in Manchester Square, I will destroy you utterly. I shall see to it that you are shunned and spat at in the street!”

“
No more
. No more. Go away,” moaned Henrietta, pressing her hands to her ears.

Lady Butterclere paused and drew herself up with grim satisfaction.

“That's
you
done for, Miss Reed,” she hissed.

She glided over to the door and stood waiting for the maid to open it. The maid smirked at Henrietta as Lady Butterclere sailed through and slammed the door after her.

“What is all this rumpus?”

Nanny stumbled half asleep from her room.

Henrietta could not speak. Her breast heaved with sobs though no sound came from her lips.

“Henrietta, what is it?” Nanny asked fearfully.

At last her voice emerged in a wail of grief.

“I c-cannot stay h-here another hour, Nanny, we mmust pack.”

“Pack? Tonight?”

Tears streamed unchecked down her pale cheeks.

“Y-yes. T-tonight,” she insisted.

“Henrietta, you are delirious again!”

“N-no, Nanny. My mind is most clear. I must leave tonight or I shall d-die of shame.”

“But, my dear, what can have driven you to this?”

She could make no sense of Henrietta's reply, for the girl's words were lost in a welter of sobs.

Nanny tried to touch her forehead, but she brushed away her hand, her breast heaving more violently yet.

“All right. Sssh, now. Sshh.” Nanny was thinking frantically. “I'll start packing. But have you thought about how we shall travel at this hour?”

“N-no.”

“I must go and ask the Duke for a coach.”

“
NO
!”

Nanny gaped at this fierce response.

“But why not, pray?”

“Not the Duke. You must
not
ask him. Ask Lady Butterclere,”

“Lady Butterclere?”

“Yes.”

Henrietta's tone was very bitter.

“She will be only too glad to see the back of us.”

It was this bitterness that decided Nanny. It was paramount that she take her charge away from Merebury, before she suffered a complete nervous collapse.

“Put something warm on, my dear. I am going to speak to Lady Butterclere. I will be back as soon as I can.”

Henrietta wrapped herself in the counterpane and curled her legs up under her as the tears flowed.

The Duke had dropped the bait and reeled her in. How willingly she had agreed to stay in his London house.

How unwittingly she had acceded to his nefarious designs. No doubt he would have come to the house and there he would have mercilessly ravished her.

Henrietta buried her head on her knees.

The worst aspect of this was she could not be sure that she would not have welcomed his illicit embrace. Had she not thrilled already to his touch, although he was sworn to another?

An hour passed before Nanny's breathless return.

“Lady Butterclere has agreed to order a coach and four horses to be hitched up,” she panted. “And she has found a coachman prepared to take us as far as Liverpool.”

“W-who might that be?”

“How should I know?” Nanny was becoming tired and cross. “I wish I knew what all this is about. Sneaking off late at night like this. And Lady Butterclere insisting we tell no one, least of all the Duke. It's not courteous, so it's not. I must be mad to allow myself to be dragged out into that howling night.”

Nanny started the packing while Henrietta dressed lethargically.

They froze when a knock came at the door, but it was only two footmen for their luggage.

Once the room was cleared Nanny took a final look round and then straightened Henrietta's hood.

“Well, here we go, missy,” she said in a low voice, “slipping away like two thieves in the night.”

In the cobbled courtyard, the horses jerked at their bridles uneasily. Even they seemed to sense the strangeness of this journey.