The Romance (13 page)

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Saint Clair mounted the stairs to his father’s study later that day, feeling as if his Hessian boots were weighted down with lead. He had planned to leave ‘the old man’ to simmer for another day, but he felt he could no longer enjoy himself with the thought of the row to come hanging over him.

He was told his father was having his afternoon nap, and so he was forced to kick his heels in the study for over an hour while he wondered whether it might be possible to die from an excess of fright.

At last he heard the shuffle of his father’s slippers approaching the door and stood up.

‘Turned up at last, hey?’ growled the earl, slumping down into his favourite armchair. ‘Sit down, sit down, and stop standing there goggling at me.’

Saint Clair did as he was bid. His legs felt like jelly and his mouth was dry. He had been so upset at the thought of the interview that he had not painted his face and was—for him—soberly dressed.

Pity the boy takes after Jenny, thought the earl, thinking without much affection of his late wife, who always seemed to burst into tears whenever she saw him.

‘So what’s this I hear from Perry about you romancing that Mrs. Ingram?’

‘I was not romancing her. She is a kind and sympathetic lady.’ And then fright sharpened St. Clair’s not normally agile brain and he added, After I had to rescue Miss Chalmers from the lake when we were nearly both drowned, I realized someone had been trying to kill me, and everyone began to look like a villain.’

If St. Clair had blamed Perry, his statement would not have made such an impression on the earl and somehow St. Clair had sensed that.

‘The fact is that I met this Mrs. Ingram by accident in the Park this morning, m’boy, and she told me all about your brave rescue.’ The thought that this feckless son of his had actually rescued anyone gave the earl a warm glow and he began to return as well to his earlier opinion that Mrs. Ingram was a fine woman. ‘But who in that house party would want to injure you?’ asked the earl.

Saint Clair longed to say, ‘Perry, of course,’ but somehow a new cunning had entered his brain. He considered Perry a slimy creature. Instead, he raised his buckram-wadded shoulders in a shrug. ‘Blessed if I know. I mean,
who would have anything to gain by my death? You may think I’m a poor sort of chap, but fact is, people don’t take violent dislikes to me.’

The earl sat brooding. He had always thought of Perry as being everything he longed his son to be—decent, reliable, and at all times respectful. He had always prided himself on being a good judge of character. He shook his head like a baffled bull. The boat had probably sprung a leak. To think of anything else was too Gothic.

‘Let’s get back to your marriage prospects, Toby. I thought you were going to propose to the Beverley chit.’

Saint Clair opened his mouth to say that he was going to see Lady Beverley that very day to declare his intentions, but something stopped him. A new idea that somewhere there might be a lady for him who would stir his senses had entered his mind. He decided quickly that the sensible thing would be to consult Mrs. Ingram first.

‘I was going to,’ he lied, ‘before that near drowning addled my wits. Then I got cautious. We both know, sir, that the Beverleys want Mannerling more than anything. Well, I may be a poor sort of specimen, but I began to think I was maybe better than just a target for someone’s ambitions.’

‘You’re not going to talk of love,’ snorted the earl. ‘We’re both men of the world. You find yourself a suitable wife and then you get
yourself a mistress; that’s the way it’s done.’

But the idea of having to cope with a wife
and
a mistress terrified St. Clair.

‘So you actually want me to propose to Belinda Beverley?’ he asked.

‘Well, now, m’boy, your rescue of Miss Chalmers proves there’s more backbone in you than I had previously thought. I’ll give you to the end of the Season. What about the Chalmers girl, hey? Money there, good family.’

‘I am learning wisdom, Pa,’ said St. Clair, thinking all the time what a deuced cunning chap he was becoming. ‘Don’t do any harm to shop around. We’re an old family, demme, a proud family. Nothing but the best for us.’

The earl’s eyes glowed. ‘You’re right, boy. Take your time.’

And so St. Clair left, feeling like a man who had been losing heavily all night at the tables in St. James’s, only to rise at dawn with his luck changed and a fortune in his pocket.

Belinda welcomed the return to London of Miss Trumble. Lady Beverley had quite forgotten that she had banished the governess to the country and was also glad to have this maker of headache potions back again.

And now that Lord St. Clair did not call, Lady Beverley retreated once more into imaginary illness. Belinda’s social life was divided in two. In the afternoons, she attended lectures and art exhibitions with Miss Trumble, and in the evenings, she went out to balls and parties chaperoned by her sister, Abigail.

Lord Gyre, it seemed, was nowhere. Belinda longed to ask his whereabouts but was fearful he would get to hear of her interest and despise her the more. But at a breakfast party, she met Perry Vane again.

She was seated next to him at a long table in the garden of Mrs. Tamworth’s home. Remembering the stories of Perry’s plots to discredit St. Clair, she would have snubbed him had he not immediately turned to her and began to talk of Mannerling, and as he talked, Belinda could feel all the old, sick yearning for her former home engulfing her, a superstitious
feeling that somehow her life would be less bleak and empty if only she were back ‘home’ again.

He had an open, friendly, and easy manner, and as they talked, Belinda began to think the stories she had heard about him must have been lies. After they had been talking for some time, Perry said in a low voice, ‘I was extremely upset to be falsely accused of damaging that rowing-boat. I wish my feckless cousin no harm. I was, however, concerned that he would ultimately ruin Mannerling, because he is a gambler.’

‘Mannerling seems to attract gamblers,’ said Belinda, thinking of her own father and another previous owner, Ajax Judd. ‘Do you think the house is haunted? Mrs. Ingram had a bad fright and the servants do say that they see ghosts.’

‘I think Mrs. Ingram is an over-emotional woman who likes to be the centre of attention,’ he said drily, ‘and the servant class likes drama.’

And all the while they talked, Perry wondered if this beautiful girl whose love of Mannerling matched his own could be of any assistance to him.

Abigail had not heard any of the stories about Perry. She saw his interest in her sister and asked about him, learning that he was Earl Durbridge’s nephew, and appeared to be generally liked. Lizzie had been taken off on
calls with Miss Trumble, and so Belinda was free to enjoy Perry’s company.

It was almost like being back at Mannerling, she thought dreamily, as each described room after room. Perry grew more enthusiastic. He considered the gardens too formal and said he would like to see them more romantic, less
planned
.

At one point, Belinda looked down the long table and saw Gurney Burke watching her with a cynical look on his face and turned her face away. But the damage had been done. Memories of Lord Gyre flooded into her mind and she could feel a dragging weight of misery engulf her.

But during the dancing after the meal, Perry took her up for two dances. He was an undemanding and easy companion and a very good dancer. Belinda agreed to go driving with him the following day, and set her mind to forgetting all about Lord Gyre and her failure to attract St. Clair.

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‘What are you doing here?’ Lord Gyre asked Gurney later that day, after Gurney had strolled into the coffee-room at White’s. ‘I thought you were enjoying yourself at the Tamworths’ breakfast.’

‘I find these affairs increasingly tedious,’ said Gurney, sinking into a chair opposite the
marquess which creaked under his weight.

‘Food bad?’

‘No, food excellent, company dull. Perry Vane was there, much enamoured with that scheming creature, Belinda Beverley.’

The marquess’s face darkened. ‘I will brook no criticism of that lady, whatever I myself might think of her schemes.’

‘Well, she has met a soul mate in Perry,’ said Gurney sulkily. ‘So, are you still planning to repair to the country tomorrow?

Lord Gyre opened his mouth to say that, yes, he would be going, but he had a sudden bright picture of Belinda Beverley laughing with Perry Vane and flirting with him. Lord Gyre distrusted Perry. Thinking back to the house party, he remembered he had been convinced that Perry had tried to sabotage that boat. Was it Belinda’s fault that she was so determined to gain that wretched place, Mannerling, at all costs? She was being pushed by that mother of hers.

He himself had received an invitation to the Tamworths’ breakfast. These breakfast affairs actually started at three o’clock in the afternoon and went on until dawn.

‘I do not know whether I shall leave London tomorrow,’ he said. ‘I have a few things to attend to in Town. Now, if you will excuse me, Gurney…’

‘Thought we might have a rubber of whist,’ said Gurney. ‘Besides, I have only just got
here.’

The marquess smiled. ‘And I, on the contrary, have been here for some time.’

Once outside the club, he told himself severely that go to to the Tamworth affair at this late hour would be folly. But if Perry Vane was suddenly showing an interest in Belinda Beverley, then it could hardly be for love.

Still chastising himself on his folly, he returned to his town house, changed into his dress clothes, and set out for the Tamworths’ home.

Belinda, with a supreme effort, had put thoughts about him, St. Clair, and Mannerling out of her mind. Perry had already danced with her twice and could not dance with her again without occasioning comment. But she found she had a new worry to occupy her mind. The army captain who had taken her up for the supper dance proved to be extremely drunk. It was the waltz and several times he had stood on her toes, quite painfully.

The Marquess of Gyre entered the conservatory where the dancing was being held in time to see the captain trip once more over Belinda’s feet and stretch his length on the floor. He moved forward quickly. ‘My dance, I think,’ he said, putting his arm about her waist and sweeping her away while the captain was helped from the floor by his friends.

‘Thank you,’ said Belinda when she could.

‘My pleasure.’ He felt himself growing angry.
She was pliant in his arms, and the light scent she wore assailed his senses. They completed the rest of the dance in silence. He led her into the supper-room. Perry watched them moodily and then was surprised to experience a pang of pure jealousy. Somehow, Belinda Beverley had become entwined in his mind with Mannerling. He had even begun to dream about the two of them enjoying the glories of the place as man and wife.

‘So here we are together again,’ said the marquess lightly, steering Belinda to the end of one of the long tables so that he might be more private with her. ‘I see that churl, Perry Vane, is here.’

‘I found Mr. Vane a sympathetic companion,’ said Belinda defiantly.

‘Oho! What is the scheme now? Is Mr. Vane so confident of ingratiating himself with Durbridge to the detriment of Saint Clair that he feels he will get Mannerling?’

‘Nothing like that, my lord. You see plots everywhere.’

‘You have been open with me about your own plots and stratagems. Why should I not see plots everywhere?’

‘Do not bait me, my lord,’ said Belinda fiercely. ‘I have decided to enjoy my Season. Saint Clair is not interested in me.’

‘I must ask you this, for it has been troubling me. We have fallen into the way of being blunt with each other. My friend Gurney overheard
you planning to entrap me and then ask me to buy you Mannerling. You were talking with your sister in the morning-room at Mannerling.’

Belinda blushed furiously. ‘It was a joke!’

‘And was it also a joke when you said you could have me any time you liked?’

She gazed at him in furious surprise. ‘I never said such a thing. Why did you believe your friend so easily? Why did you not just
ask?’

‘I am asking you now.’

‘What Mr. Burke heard was a joke I was sharing with my sister. My sister and my mother are very ambitious on my behalf. I was anxious to return to my old role of saviour of the family fortunes and to protect myself from criticism and recriminations. You had your revenge. You ignored me and Saint Clair appeared smitten with Mrs. Ingram, and so I became the family disgrace.’

He waved his hand to encompass the room. ‘There are many attractive and decent men at the Season. Why cannot you behave like the other débutantes and concentrate on securing an honourable marriage?’

‘And why cannot you mind your own business?’ she flashed back at him. ‘My concerns are none of your concern, my lord.’

‘You have the right of it. And yet I feel I should warn you against the Honourable Peregrine Vane.’

‘Why? Did Mr. Burke overhear some of his
conversation as well and give you a highly coloured and distorted account of it?’

‘No, I am relying entirely on my own observation.’

‘And yet you did not do so in my case!’

‘I did. You admit to being a scheming minx, Belinda Beverley.’

‘What an exasperating man you are! I wish I had never been so open with you.’

‘And yet that is part of your charm.’

She blushed again. ‘Come now,’ he said gently. ‘Drink your wine and eat your food and let us talk about something else. How goes the estimable Miss Trumble?’