Mesalliance (8 page)

‘You’re either
a fool,’ he said softly, ‘or a great deal brighter than I had
previously supposed. I wonder which it is?’

‘Why the
latter, of course,’ she replied carelessly. ‘Which means, I
suppose, that it’s you who are the fool, Uncle.’

His eyes
narrowed and, for a second, she felt a prickle of something akin to
fear. Then she took hold of herself and it was gone. Ridiculous to
fear this absurdly-dressed mammet with his powder and patches and
scent. One might as well be frightened of a tailor’s dummy.

Richard Horton
toyed delicately with an elegant
brisé
fan. He said, ‘You
are insolent, Adeline. It is a mistake … and a pity. But for that,
I believe I might be able to help you.’

‘Really? In
what way?’

‘To advance
yourself. What else?’ A sneering smile touched his mouth. ‘It is
beginning to seem possible that you have certain marketable
qualities. You look surprised. I do not blame you. I am surprised
myself. But it becomes apparent that Mr Garfield sees something in
you – and so, unless I am mistaken, does our fastidious friend,
Rockliffe.’ He paused and the cat-like smile grew. ‘I don’t admire
their taste. But I might – if it suited me – be prepared to assist
you to exploit it.’

‘If it profited
you, you mean,’ said Adeline dryly. ‘The duns must be after you
with a vengeance. I thought you were committed to advancing
Diana?’

‘I am. But one
may hedge one’s bets, you know. And Diana is set on Rockliffe –
while you, whether by accident or design, have made an excellent
start with the extremely rich Mr Garfield.’

‘Have I?’

‘Oh yes. That
little scene at dinner … really, I am forced to congratulate you.’
He opened the fan and plied it gently. ‘Of course, marriage –
though not entirely impossible – is probably a little too much to
hope for. But an
affaire
can pay just as well and, if
carefully managed, last almost as long.’

‘Can it really?
You fascinate me.’

‘Yes. I thought
I would. But you will need me, Adeline – or you won’t clear the
first ditch.’

‘I see. And
you, in return, would need to be sure of my continuing
gratitude?’

‘Precisely. I
am delighted to find you so direct.’

‘Are you?’ She
rose, her honey-sweet tone contrasting oddly with the hardness in
her eyes. ‘That’s nice. It enables me to tell you two things.
Firstly – that I’d sooner beg from door to door than accept
anything from you; and secondly, that – if and when I decide to
prostitute myself – I’ll do it without the aid of a pander.’

She gathered up
the despised straw-coloured skirts and moved to step past him but
was detained by his fingers closing painfully around her wrist.

‘That was
unnecessarily stupid,’ he hissed. ‘And you’ll regret it. Believe
me.’

‘Tell you what,
Dick,’ said Harry Caversham, blithely splintering the tension, ‘you
ought to be doing your duty by Lizzie Pickering or the Garfield
chit – not monopolising your own niece. It’s a scurvy trick, so it
is!’

By degrees, the
nasty glint faded from Mr Horton’s eyes and his hand left Adeline’s
arm. Then, flourishing his fan, he said airily, ‘You wish me to
remove myself? Consider it done. I feel sure Lady Elinor will
commiserate with me.’ And he trod mincingly across the carpet to
Nell’s side.

Adeline watched
him go and then turned back to Lord Harry. His eyes were resting
upon the finger-marks about her wrist and some of the customary
good-humour was missing from his face. Then he smiled at her and
said simply, ‘Your cousins are about to delight us with some music.
Unfortunately, I have a problem.’

She found
herself smiling back, mainly because it didn’t seem possible to do
anything else. ‘Oh? And what is that?’

‘I’ve no ear
for music. Absolutely none. So I thought you might keep me company
and tell me what expressions of pleasure I may best employ when
it’s over.’

‘Aside from
“Thank God!” you mean?’

Harry laughed.
‘That’s it exactly. You see, the thing is that I’d like to escape
the inevitable jokes at my expense.’

Adeline gave
him an oblique glance. ‘From his Grace of Rockliffe, I
presume?’

‘Rock? God,
no!’ came the startled response. And then shrewdly, ‘You don’t know
him very well, do you?’

‘Scarcely at
all.’

‘I thought not.
Rock might – and probably would – torment me in private. But in
public? Never. No. It’s Nell I’m worried about,’ he confided
apologetically. ‘I’m rather against giving her the satisfaction of
calling me a philistine – or of watching your aunt look down her
nose at me. I’m suffering enough as it is.’

‘Are you
indeed?’

‘Lord, yes! No
effort too great, no opportunity neglected,’ said Harry cheerfully.
‘She’s trying to put me in my place, you see.’

‘I can’t help
wondering why. However … what precisely are
you
doing?’

‘Turning the
tables.’ His grin was the epitome of winsome innocence. ‘I knew
you’d understand. After all, you take a similar line yourself,
don’t you?’

‘I wish,’ said
Nell in somewhat nettled accents, ‘that I could see what’s so
fascinating about Diana’s cousin. It’s not as though she’s anything
above the ordinary, after all … and that dreadful mulberry brocade
she wore last night made her look at least forty.’

Rockliffe
raised his eyes from the book he’d been reading and surveyed his
sister without noticeable pleasure. It was the day before the ball
and, in deference to the fine weather – not to mention the amount
of work still to be accomplished inside the house – Lady Miriam had
decreed that her guests should enjoy an
al fresco
luncheon
in the park. Shuddering inwardly, his Grace had immediately escaped
to Sir Roland’s book-room for a brief period of restorative peace –
to which Nell, charmingly attired in pale pink tiffany and with
time on her hands, had presently followed him. She had thought to
make use of a few minutes of rare privacy … but, meeting the
coolness in his gaze, she wondered if she had not perhaps made a
mistake.

‘Well?’ she
demanded when he still did not speak. ‘Haven’t you anything to
say?’

‘
Yes. You
sound like Diana
,’ he thought. And then, closing his book,
‘Several, in fact. And I’ll begin by observing that you are fast
becoming a mannerless and ill-natured coquette. Also, I have heard
you use that particular tone with Harry and can only marvel at his
forbearance. You will not, however, be well advised to use it with
me.’

Colour flooded
Nell's cheeks and she said protestingly, ‘Wh-what do you mean? I’m
not a coquette – and I wasn’t r-rude!’

‘No? I am
beginning to wonder if you still have the ability to
discriminate.’

‘That’s not
fair!’

‘Unfortunately,’ said Rockliffe, coming smoothly to his feet, ‘it
is. Your behaviour over the last few days has been both arrogant
and vain. And I have not, I regret to say, been proud of you.’

The fact that
he had never before – no matter what scrapes she had got into –
spoken to her like that gave Nell pause. Looking stricken, she
said, ‘Do you really mean it?’

‘Yes. I do. As
for your unnecessary remark about Mistress Kendrick’s gown – it
must be plain to an even meaner intelligence than your own that she
is wearing cast-offs. And if you, my dear, had ever been forced to
wear Lucilla’s or Aunt Augusta’s mistakes, you might perhaps be a
little more tolerant.’

There was a
long silence while Nell stared down at the beribboned straw hat in
her hands. Finally, she said, ‘You’re right, of course. I hadn’t
thought.’

‘Obviously
not.’

‘And I’m sorry.
For all of it. But all I really meant,’ she went on, ‘is that I
don’t understand why Mr Garfield is suddenly so taken with her and
why even Ha- Lord Harry has started seeking her out. It doesn’t
make sense.’

‘Jealous,
Nell?’

‘Certainly not!
As far as I’m concerned, they’re both equally obnoxious.’

‘Ah.’

She eyed him
suspiciously for a moment and then decided that the best method of
defence was attack. ‘And it’s not just them, is it? I’ve seen you
talking to her yourself.’

‘Have you?’

‘You know I
have. Are you in love with her?’

His brows
soared. ‘My dear! Is it likely?’

‘No,’ said Nell
frankly. ‘What’s likely is that you’re either doing it out of
devilment or to make Diana jealous.’

‘And which does
your instinct suggest?’

‘I don’t know.’
She hesitated and then said abruptly, ‘The truth is that I’d hoped
you might consider marrying Diana.’

‘I think I
might be said to be tolerably aware of that fact.’

‘Oh. So will
you?’

‘Will I
what?’

Nell resisted a
temptation to stamp her foot.

‘Think about
marrying Diana. I know she’s not especially well-connected but her
birth is respectable enough – even for Lucilla. And she has to be
the most ravishingly beautiful girl you’ve ever seen. Also,
although I really oughtn’t to say this … she’d head over ears in
love with you.’

‘Dear me!’
drawled Rockliffe. ‘Is she indeed? I really had no idea.’

‘Perhaps not.
But now I’ve told you … well, you must know that you could do a lot
worse.’

A faintly
crooked smile touched his mouth but he refrained from saying that
he doubted it. Instead, he said mildly, ‘Correct me if I’m mistaken
… but what you are really saying is that the match would please
you
.’

‘Yes. I think
it would be perfect.’

‘That is
honest, at least. But you will, I am sure, appreciate my
difficulty.’

‘What
difficulty?’

‘Simply that –
while you are determined to choose your own husband – I am equally
set on choosing my own wife.’

It was, as he
very well knew, unanswerable … and, to her credit, Nell did not
even try.

‘I suppose,’
she sighed, ‘that I should have expected that. Shall I apologise
again?’

‘No.’ He tucked
her hand through his arm and let her to the door. ‘Just try to be a
little more civil to Harry. And who knows? Once you have become
used to the idea, you may even find him less … er … obnoxious than
you first thought.’

*

‘And that,’
confided Nell later to her dearest friend, ‘made me darkly
suspicious, I can tell you. It would suit Rock admirably to have me
safely betrothed – and to someone as eligible as Harry.’

‘But I thought
he’d promised not to force you?’ objected Diana.

‘He did – and
he won’t. But he’s quite capable of arranging matters so I’ll
think
I’ve pleased myself, when all the time I’ll really be
doing exactly what he always intended that I should. You simply
wouldn’t believe how sneaky he can be.’

Diana looked
across the grass to where Rockliffe formed one of a group with
Althea, Andrew, Lizzie and his lordship, in the shade of a large
beech tree. She said inconsequently, ‘Do you know, I’m sure poor
Lizzie gets more freckled every time I see her.’ And then, ‘Lord
Harry is extremely attractive, though … at least, I suspect that
Thea finds him so.’

‘Oh?’ Nell
sniffed disparagingly. ‘Then she’d better be warned – for he’s also
odiously interfering.’

‘I doubt she’d
mind that. Not, of course, that she has the smallest hope of
gaining his affections. She’s too much of a mouse, poor dear.’ She
paused and then added wistfully, ‘I suppose … I suppose your
brother hasn’t said anything about
me
?’

‘No – no.’ Nell
took the tactful rather than the truthful path and had the grace to
blush a little. ‘No – not a word. But you mustn’t give up hope.
It’s just that Rock isn’t … well, one can never tell what he’s
truly thinking. But you know I’ll do what I can.’

‘Dearest!’
Diana clasped her friend’s hand. ‘I know you will. And you can’t
imagine what a comfort it is to me.’

Nell smiled
weakly. And then, in order to extricate herself from the
awkwardness of the moment, said, ‘I see Mr Garfield has attached
himself to your cousin again. What
do
you suppose he finds
to say to her?’

‘Who knows?’
shrugged Diana. ‘He’s probably boring on about his stupid house or
telling her exactly what he paid for some thing or other. After
all, he’s hardly likely to consider marrying her, is he? And I
can’t see him giving her a slip on the shoulder either. She’s not
nearly pretty enough.’

Nell’s eyes
widened a little at the vulgarity of the expression but she saw no
reason to quarrel with its meaning. In this she was wrong for Mr
Garfield was, at that very moment, working his way round to
offering Mistress Kendrick a
carte blanche
– and finding it
a good deal more difficult than he’d anticipated.

He realised, of
course, that these things probably grew easier with practice and
that he, having arrived at the age of twenty-eight with only one
recognised liaison to his credit, was somewhat lacking in this
respect. But he did not recall needing to tread quite so carefully
with Betty – whom he had set up as his mistress more as a matter of
form than anything else; and he’d certainly never had the peculiar
sensation that she was more in control of his words than he was
himself. Under Adeline’s dispassionate gaze, he knew both; and,
unnerving though this was, it also increased his ardour.

He looked at
her now, cool and restrained, the nut-brown hair demurely arranged
and her neck rising slender and white above the dove-coloured gown.
The blood rose to his head and he said baldly, ‘I’ll give you a
house in London and a carriage of your own and as many gowns and
furbelows as you like. I’ll even take you to Paris - or Rome, if
you’d prefer it. Anything you want. All you need do is to name
it.’