Thea's Marquis (17 page)

Reassured, Meg was recaptured by her new admirers. Lord Hazlewood and Mr. Trevelyan fell into a political discussion.

“It is an excessively political evening,” Alison Trevelyan said apologetically to Thea. “Philip is a Member of Parliament, you see. I was sure everything would go wrong when I was entertaining so many important people, but he says I did just as I ought when your poor sister-in-law fainted. Will you come and meet Lady Lansdowne and the Cheverells? I believe you will like them.”

Thea would have much preferred to find a quiet corner, but she agreed and was rewarded. The Marchioness of Lansdowne and Lord and Lady Cheverell, after expressing kindly concern about Penny, returned to talking about charities. They included Thea without pressing her to speak. She did like them, finding their conversation interesting, and when Lord Hazlewood joined them, she discovered they were friends of his.

She even ventured to ask some questions. Lord Hazlewood gave her an approving nod and no one sneered at her ignorance. A political evening, she decided, was a great improvement on a purely social occasion.

Taken by surprise when the tea tray was brought in, she exclaimed, “Is it so late? I did not mean to stay so long.”

Lady Cheverell, an unpretentious woman of about Thea’s age, smiled at her. “I am glad you did. Miss Kilmore. May I call tomorrow to ask after Lady Kilmore?”

Thea stammered out her direction, expecting the usual dismay, but the viscountess said, “Most convenient. Russell Square is on our way to the Foundling Hospital, is it not, Adam? Lord Cheverell and I are to visit there tomorrow, Miss Kilmore.”

On the way home in Lord Hazlewood’s carriage, Thea said with a sigh of satisfaction, “The evening did not turn out so badly in the end.”

“How can you say so?” Meg demanded. “When Penny was taken ill like that!”

“She is not seriously ill.” Thea kept to herself her near certainty that Jason loved Penny after all, since Meg had never been told that Penny doubted it. “And I met some most agreeable people, Lady Cheverell in particular. I never thought to feel so comfortable with strangers.”

Lord Hazlewood said teasingly, “Perhaps because they ‘have something to say,’ ” and Thea blushed as she recalled her earlier boast. He went on more seriously, “You have fallen into a nest of Whigs, Miss Kilmore, who are trying to better the lot of the poor, whether through Parliamentary action or private charity. Trevelyan was only recently converted to our way of thinking, by his wife, he claims.”

“I like Mrs. Trevelyan immensely,” said Meg. “She is only a year older than I am, and she has read all the same romantic novels.”

The marquis laughed. “A firm foundation for friendship.”

“Who were those two young gentlemen you were talking to, Meg?” Thea asked.

“Lord Frederick and Mr. Mills? Just two gentlemen,” Meg said airily. “They asked permission to call.”

“Have you met them before?”

“No, but they were properly introduced by Mrs. Trevelyan.”

Thea sighed. Chaperoning Meg was no easy task when every young man she met proved susceptible to her charms. Thea had reached the conclusion that a proper introduction was unfortunately no guarantee of respectability. After all, Jason was received everywhere and had doubtless been properly introduced to Alison before he’d abducted her.

At least Meg’s lack of fortune made that fate improbable, while also ensuring that few of her beaux were likely to become suitors.

As if he had read Thea’s mind. Lord Hazlewood said, “I know no harm of Lord Frederick or Mr. Mills, unless political aspirations be considered a vice.”

“They did not talk politics to
me,”
said Meg.

“You surprise me,” said the marquis drily as the carriage turned into Russell Square.

The dowager had already retired, the butler reported when the Misses Kilmore entered the house. His lordship was abovestairs, but had asked to be informed when his sisters reached home.

“Thank you, Dunmow, I shall tell him,” Thea said. “How is Lady Kilmore?”

“Ever so happy, miss, if I may make so bold.” The butler beamed. “You see, his lordship’s found her old abigail, as was with her ladyship before and was her nurse before that. Mrs. Nancy arrived just this evening. Such a reunion, miss, it was a pleasure to see.”

“How splendid of Jason!” Meg exclaimed. “To think he has been searching for Nancy all this time. Penny has often...” A huge yawn cut off her words.

“To bed!” said Thea. “Too many late nights and you will lose your sparkle.”

They went upstairs together. Thea was delighted that Nancy had been found, but the search surely had not occupied all Jason’s time. Nor did it explain his announcement that all was settled. She tapped on his dressing-room door as Meg retreated to her chamber, yawning again.

“Come in.” Book in hand, a brown woollen dressing-gown over his shirt and pantaloons, he was sitting on a plain deal chair set close to the door to the bed-chamber. In one comer, the cot he had been sleeping on was turned down for the night, his nightshirt laid across it. A deal clothes-press and a cheap mirror completed the furnishings. Jason had given his wife a free hand, and he spent enough on his wardrobe to make a show in Society, but he had not spent a shilling of her money on his own comfort.

Thea had not been in his dressing-room before. She wondered whether Penny was aware of its Spartan simplicity.

He rose as Thea entered. “Ah, you are safely returned.”

“How is Penny? Dunmow says you have found her Nancy.”

“Yes, a month since. She had to work out her notice, and I didn’t want to tell Penny in case something happened to prevent it. Penny is far happier to see her abigail than she was to see
me
when you came from Newkirk.” He sounded tired and disheartened.

“Oh, Jason, she was ill and exhausted, and then to see the state of the house! But worst of all, you scarcely seemed overjoyed by her arrival. You told her she looked as if she had one foot in the grave, and you were not even pleased that she is pregnant.”

“How can I care about an heir when she is ill?”

Buoyed by a successful evening, Thea took a deep breath and spoke her mind. “Apart from the morning sickness, which Mama says will pass, Penny is only ill because she is afraid you don’t love her. She has been on a reducing diet to try to look more like Alison Trevelyan and Henrietta, since you admire them so much.”

“Once
admired them! They are pretty enough. Penny is beautiful.”

“You have not told her she is beautiful, that you love her.”

“I have,” he said, indignant. “I told her both when I proposed to her.”

Thea stared at him in shock. “That was months ago! You must tell her often, Jason. Particularly because of the...the unusual circumstances of your marriage, though I suspect all ladies need frequent reassurance. And instead, you have been absent from home most of the time since we came to Town.”

“I have been working with her lawyers—our lawyers. I wanted to sort everything out quickly so that we can go back to Newkirk, since London does not agree with her.”

“It is not London that disagrees with her, and I expect she would have liked to be consulted on the matter. Penny has a mind of her own.”

He smiled wryly. “That I know. I did not wish to trouble her with business in her condition. I can see I was wrong. In any case, she has to approve all I have settled with the lawyers. Thea, they have agreed to almost everything I proposed, even—”

“I’m glad, but you can tell us all in the morning.” She gave him a quick hug, then turned away and moved towards the door, feeling her face grow warm. “Now, forget your horrid cot and go and hold her in your arms.”

His voice thick with longing, he said, “I must not disturb her rest when she is unwell.”

“Jason, dear, that is the only way to make her well.” Thea escaped to her chamber. She couldn’t wait to tell Roderick all about it, except—she put her hands to her      hot cheeks—except for her final words of advice.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

When the Cheverells arrived, neither Penny nor Jason had come down yet, though the green-and-russet drawing room was already well filled. Most of the callers were unattached gentlemen, from callow youths to the mature, if hardly venerable, figure of Mr. Glubb-ffoulkes.

“The Prince is sadly cast down,” he said, a sigh making his corset creak, his hopeful gaze fixed on the box of bon-bons he had brought for Meg. “Rushed back from Suffolk as soon as he heard Her Highness was in labour, but he was too late to say goodbye to his daughter. Now he won’t stir from his room, won’t even dress, won’t talk of anything but the late sad event.”

Meg at once comforted and silenced him by opening his gift and setting it at his elbow. Maria Turner and Jane Lewin had come to visit her, escorted by Sir Gideon. Thea suspected that, while they liked her sister, they also hoped to profit from the overflow of beaux attending her.

Several ladies, unable to bring themselves to brave the wilds of Bloomsbury, had sent footmen to enquire after Penny’s health. The house in Russell Square, though admittedly a disadvantage, was proving less than a disaster.

The Cheverells did not stay long, but Lady Cheverell invited Thea to call the next day. “Not just for a formal quarter of an hour,” she said with a smile. “Come to tea and we shall have a comfortable cose.”

Thea dared to hope that she had found a new friend, a rare and precious thing. She must tell Roderick. Where was he? Surely he would call today after last night’s upset.

She looked up hopefully as Dunmow ushered in another gentleman. Lord Stewart entered and crossed the room to her side, his tread slightly ponderous though he was by no means a bulky man. The lines of grief on his face were less marked than when she had first met him, she thought. He was cheerful with her, and she had seen him laughing gaily while dancing with Mrs. Wilmington. The other day he had asked whether she had procured a riding habit yet—and that was another thing she wanted to talk to Roderick about.

In
his
presence, she would not mind making a cake of herself on horseback. She hoped he might go with her to one of the quieter parks to practise.

Lord Stewart proposed a drive in Hyde Park. Thea refused, luckily being provided with the excuse that she must stay with Meg. Their mother had gone to consult Lady Anne about Penny’s health, physician-
accoucheurs
being in bad odour after Princess Charlotte’s death.

The widowed viscount was still with Thea when Dunmow announced Lady Emma Osborne and Mrs. Trevelyan. Though pleased to see Alison Trevelyan, Thea was surprised that she had brought her older friend. Lady Emma seemed very proper and a trifle stiff.

“Miss Kilmore, is your sister-in-law recovered?” Mrs. Trevelyan asked anxiously.

“She is much better. In fact
everything
is much better,” Thea said, trying to infuse her voice with meaning. “She is resting in her chamber today and my brother is sitting with her. I shall send to tell him you are come, for he would wish to thank you for your kindness last night.”

The young Mrs. Trevelyan was no slowtop. “No, no, do not disturb them. He never loved me, you know,” she said in a low voice, throwing a glance of sparkling mischief at Lady Emma. “We were friends, and one does not cast off a friend because of one mistake. He did not harm me in any way. I wish him well and I am very glad he has found happiness. Now I must go and have a word with Miss Megan.”

Left with Lady Emma, Thea was once more at a loss. Lord Stewart conversed with her ladyship for a few moments, but he had stayed twenty minutes, so, always correct, he took his leave.

“It is obliging of you to call here, Lady Emma,” Thea said shyly.

“I hope to call again, Miss Kilmore, when Lady Kilmore is receiving. You see, I eloped with an India nabob, so I have a certain fellow-feeling for your brother and his wife.”

Astonished, Thea stammered, “Penny will be happy to receive you.”

Lady Emma, her cheeks tinged with pink, made a complimentary comment on the drawing-room’s colour scheme. Thea managed a stilted reply and Lady Emma’s
savoir faire
carried them through the next few minutes. Then, at last, Dunmow announced Lord Hazlewood and Mr. DeVine.

They came straight to her and Mr. DeVine, after politely greeting Lady Emma, said with a smile, “Miss Kilmore, your mama tells us that Lady Kilmore is much more the thing this morning. I understand Rod had the honour of catching her when she swooned. To think that I have always avoided such political affairs, supposing them dull!”

“Dull? On the contrary. Though that bit was horrid, I found the rest of the evening interesting. Is Mama come home, then?”

“She left Arlington Street when we did, but she had to stop at an apothecary’s, I collect, to purchase some nostrum Aunt Anne recommended. Tell me, is Miss Megan also newly enamoured of politics?”

“Hardly,” said the marquis. “She informed us with considerable complacency that Lord Frederick and Mr. Mills did not talk politics to her. I see they are both here this morning.”

His cousin glanced across at Meg and groaned. “So is Giddy, and Uncle Reggie appears to be making himself quite at home. Pray excuse me, ladies.”

While the rest of Meg’s admirers had been arriving and departing at the proper intervals. Sir Gideon, as his sister’s escort, had stayed. Mr. Glubb-ffoulkes, with no acceptable excuse for his continued presence, had emptied the box of bon-bons and looked incapable of movement. He wheezed a cheery greeting to his nephew.

Lady Emma and the marquis chatted for a few minutes with the ease of old acquaintances, while Thea burned with impatience. At last Lady Emma caught Mrs. Trevelyan’s eye and they left.

“Roderick, I have so much to tell you,” Thea burst out, “but there are too many people here. Did you by any chance come in your curricle?”

“Are you inviting yourself for a drive?”

“Yes, if you have time? Only I cannot go unless Mama comes to chaperon Meg.” She rang the bell for Dunmow, who reported that the dowager had returned and was abovestairs. Thea sent him to ask her mother to come down.