The Gathering Storm (The Jacobite Chronicles Book 3) (31 page)

“What do you think of the prince’s exploits, my lady?” asked the earl
sotto voce
to Beth.

“I am sure he was very brave, my lord,” replied Beth non-commitally. “I am told it was a great victory.”

“Yes, a victory indeed,” agreed Highbury. “But not for Cumberland, I think, nor for his father either, truth be told. Did you know that George’s horse ran away with him at the start of the engagement?”

“No, I do not recall reading that piece of information in the
London Gazette,
” said Beth, wondering if the earl was a closet Jacobite.

“Well, of course you would not expect to. It is a somewhat partisan journal. Although credit must be given to the king. He did face danger without flinching, and the duke behaved most bravely when wounded. He still suffers pain from his injury, I believe.”

Good,
thought Beth, glancing across at Cumberland, who happened at that moment to be looking her way and nodded his head in her direction. Highbury stood at once, and bowed with the utmost servility, and Beth revised her opinion, remembering that there was a big difference between not liking the king and his family much, which few people did, and being a Jacobite. The earl was a Whig peer, after all.

Act One finished, and Beth leaned across to Anne.

“Are you all right, Anne?” she asked.

“Oh, yes. The scene in the garden between Ginevra and Ariodante was so romantic! I am actually quite enjoying myself,” said Anne, smiling shyly. “You were right, of course. I owe it to Stanley to try to be as happy as possible, and to ensure he lives on in his son.”

“A commendable attitude, my lady” said the earl. “But if you feel the need for a little air between acts, I would be delighted to accompany you to the foyer.”

Anne blushed.

“You are too kind, my lord,” she said.

“Not at all. I intend to take a short drive out into the countryside tomorrow. I was going to suggest, if you do not consider it too impertinent of me, that you accompany me. Would you like that?”

She looked at him, her eyes wide.

“You will of course, feel the need for a chaperone, as is only to be expected at such a delicate time,” the earl continued smoothly before Anne could refuse, as she was clearly about to do. “My motives are of the purest kind, as I am sure you know, but unfortunately there are always those of a malicious nature who will see evil in the most innocent gesture. Clarissa, my dear, would you be so kind as to accompany myself and the Lady Anne on a short drive into the countryside tomorrow?”

Clarissa replied rapturously that she would be delighted, thereby trapping Anne into agreeing, in a move worthy of the devious Beth, or her husband.
What an excellent evening this is turning out to be,
Beth thought, smiling gratefully at the earl. She had planned on dragging Anne out somewhere herself tomorrow; now she would have it free to spend with Alex.

A footman entered the box, bowed, spoke a few words to Lord Edward, then moved forward to Beth, bowing again.

“My lady,” he said. “His Royal Highness wishes to convey his compliments, and asks if you will do him the honour of joining him for the rest of the performance?”

She looked across at the opposite box, to see Prince William, Duke of Cumberland smiling directly at her. Every fibre of her being wanted to say no, but she was as trapped as Anne had been a moment ago. Lord Edward had already stood to open the door of the box for her to leave, taking her acquiescence for granted, and she had no choice but to agree. Her cheerful mood of a few moments ago evaporated, and it was with some difficulty that she summoned a smile as the duke rose to greet her when she entered his box. He raised her from her curtsey and beckoned her to the seat next to his.

“What a coincidence that we should both choose to attend the opera this evening!” said the duke as soon as Beth was settled in her seat. He called for champagne, and the footman scurried away. “Do you enjoy the music of Handel, Lady Elizabeth?” he asked.

“Yes, very much, Your Highness,” replied Beth, wishing Act Two would start so that she would have an excuse for not talking to this man. She rarely felt such antipathy for people, and it took all her acquired acting skills to mask the intense dislike she felt for him. Still, it was important to the cause that she retain the goodwill of the Elector’s son. She must make an effort. She turned to him and smiled.

“Your husband is not partial to the opera then, I take it?” he continued. “He is not here tonight. Or is he joining you later?” The duke did not sound as though he relished that prospect.

“Sir Anthony is a great fan of the opera, Your Highness,” said Beth. “But we have been away for a time, and he finds it necessary to pursue his business interests this evening.”

“Ah!” said the duke, putting such delight into the syllable that Beth was instantly alert, and apprehensive.

Act Two began. Beth leaned forward, making it as clear as she could that she wished to give the performance her complete attention. The champagne arrived and was poured, and the duke handed her a glass, thereby forcing her to look away from the stage for a moment.

“My father tells me you travelled to Edinburgh recently,” Cumberland said immediately, before she could feign absorption in the opera again. “How did you find the mood of the town?”

She knew exactly to what he was referring. Jacobite or Hanoverian?

“Very merry,” she replied, being deliberately obtuse. “It is quite a unique city. I think it is because people live in such close proximity to each other, that they have no pretensions. A lord may live in the same building as a haberdasher. People are most unaffected. It is quite amazing. I thought that it would seem quite provincial, but there are entertainments every night. And many taverns and coffee houses, just as in London.”

The duke pursed his wet red lips slightly.

“And where do the loyalties of the populace stand?” he asked a little impatiently.

“Oh, with the king, of course,” said Beth. “There are a great many toasts drunk to his health every night. I joined in more than one myself.” She smiled, and raised her glass to him. There was a chink of crystal as he touched his glass to hers and drank, looking deep into her eyes as he did so.

There was one advantage of having nearly two thousand people watching your every move. He would not be able to force his attentions on her. All she had to do was to ensure he did not get her alone. Not difficult in itself, but she had to do it without offending him.

“You have the most beautiful eyes, Elizabeth,” said Cumberland. “They are almost violet in this light.”

And you have the eyes of a pig,
she thought, noting he had dropped her title, indicating an intimacy she had not allowed him and did not feel, but at the same time could not object to.

“Why, thank you, Your Highness. My husband often makes the same remark,” she said innocently, enjoying his fleeting expression of anger at Sir Anthony being brought into the conversation. “Indeed, that is one of the reasons I enjoy this opera so much,” she continued. “Ginevra and Ariodante remind me of myself and Anthony, in more than one way.”

“Really?” said Cumberland.

“Indeed. Our love has survived many trials. The unfortunate duelling accident in France, for example.”

She wondered if Cumberland would pick up on the fact that the other way in which Ginevra reminded Beth of herself was in her hatred of the duke who fancied her.

“Yet you do not seem…particularly well-suited,” Cumberland ventured.

Oh well, it was probably better that he had not picked up on the allusion. Alex would have done, but Cumberland was not renowned for his quick-wittedness.

“In what way, my lord?” she asked, giving up on the opera. Act Two was almost over. Only one to go and then she could rejoin the others to go home.

“You are so…feminine, Elizabeth, yet display quite an interest in military matters. I would have thought you to have preferred a more masculine and martial man.”

Like myself.
Though unspoken, the letters formed themselves in vivid colours over his head. He smiled and replenished her champagne, taking care to ensure his fingers brushed hers as he handed her the glass. She managed not to recoil, and sipped her drink slowly, using the applause as Ginevra took the stage for the final scene as an excuse not to respond to his statement.

The Act was over, the audience applauded and the interval began. Beth looked across to the other side of the stage. The Cunninghams were all looking her way, Edward and Richard radiating pride and approval.
All of a sudden I am in favour,
she thought disgustedly,
because the fat, repulsive son of a usurper to the throne is lavishing attention on me.
Lady Winter was bursting with questions already. Anne looked pale, but contented enough. Clarissa seemed a little disappointed. She, of all the family, was the only one truly interested in music. She must be disappointed that the company had talked all the way through the performance.
It is really inconsiderate of them,
Beth thought.
It is her birthday, after all.
Inspiration struck.

“It is my cousin Clarissa’s birthday today, Your Highness,” said Beth.

“Is it?” he said politely. “I will send her a bottle of champagne, with my compliments.”

“That would be very kind of you,” Beth replied, smiling winningly. “She does so love the opera, but my family have a habit of conversing throughout every performance. It would make her birthday unforgettable if you were to invite her to join us for the final Act.”

“No,” said Cumberland shortly, with such authority and finality that Beth was shocked into silence.

It is a warning,
she thought.
I may think of him as a usurping slug, but he thinks himself a prince. He has the authority and power of a prince. For now, he
is
a prince. Do not forget it.
She looked at her lap, mulling over these thoughts, and he misunderstood her gesture.

“I am sorry,” he said. “I did not wish to seem rude. But I have long hoped to have a little time alone with you.” He placed his hand on her knee. “I had hoped,” he said, his voice soft, “that you would join me for a little private supper after the performance.”

Her heart banged against her ribs as adrenaline raced through her veins. The urge to hit him as hard as she could in his fat face was almost overpowering. She looked at the podgy hand resting on her knee, the short, fat beringed fingers curling proprietorially round the curve of her leg, and compared it with the broad muscular hand of her husband, the long, strong fingers. How dare he insult her and Alex in this way? She forced her temper and revulsion down by an enormous effort of will, looked up at him, smiled.

“You do me too much honour, Your Highness,” she said. “But I regret most deeply that I cannot accept. I am acting as companion to Lady Redburn this evening. As I am sure you know, she was tragically widowed only a month ago, and this is her first outing since Lord Redburn’s death. I have promised to escort her home.”

“Oh, I am sure you need not concern yourself unduly,” said Prince William dismissively. “After all, she is with friends. I have no doubt that any one of them will see her safely home.”

The warmth of his hand was seeping through the silk of her dress.

“I am sure you are right,” she said, sounding distressed without any effort at all. “But I also undertook to stay the night with her. She misses her husband so. The others will of course be going back to Lord Edward’s house for liqueurs after the performance, but Anne does not feel capable, in her delicate state, of staying out so late. I must honour my promise, Your Highness. You, being a prince and a soldier of the highest calibre, will understand better than anybody the concept of honouring one’s obligations, I am sure.”

The hand was lifted from her knee.

“Of course. I understand,” he said stiffly.

He
had
understood, that was clear. More than she wanted him to. She had offended him, and could not afford to. She needed to retain his favour, and his father’s. They were an important source of information.

Act Three began, and she hardly heard any of it. She had to regain his regard, let him know she found him attractive, without encouraging him to think she was going to leap into bed with him at the first opportunity. He found her desirable, but he wanted no more than a fling, with no commitment. No commitment. That was the key.

“Oh, Your Royal Highness!” she cried suddenly, reaching across and seizing his hand, to his surprise. “Please do not be angry with me! I must fulfil my duty to Anne! Yet I am distraught that you might think I have anything other than the greatest regard for you!”

The hubbub of voices in the audience rose noticeably. It would be all over London tomorrow.

The duke, as she had hoped, was stunned by this outpouring of feminine distress, which, in common with many men of his nature, flummoxed him completely.

“I do assure you, my dear Elizabeth…” he began.

“Indeed, I am sure you know only too well how I feel for you,” she continued, praying to God he didn’t. “If only I were not married, things could be so different…”

She gazed pleadingly, adoringly into his eyes, seeing the instant alarm at her hint that she loved rather than lusted after him, followed by pride that she wanted him after all. She breathed a sigh of relief, which he misinterpreted as distress.

“I understand entirely,” he said, squeezing her hand reassuringly. “Please do not distress yourself. I hold you in great esteem. Your consideration for your friend only raises you in my estimation. There will be other opportunities, I am sure.”

Not if I have my way,
thought Beth later, as the carriage made its way to the Redburn mansion.

“It’s very kind of you to bring me home,” Anne said from the other corner of the carriage. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather be having liqueurs with your cousins? I am after all not very good company at the moment.”

“I had intended all along to accompany you home, Anne,” said Beth. “And I far prefer your company to that of my family.”

Anne blushed, not realising what a slight compliment it was.