A Wager for Love (24 page)

“˜Gossip?” Ordley assumed an injured air.

Andover smiled. “Gossip, my friend, and nothing more.”

“But I heard it from …”

Unperturbed, Andover picked up his glass. “I don’t care if you heard it from Saltaire himself’. It is gossip and if I should hear you have been repeating it, Ordley …”

“Lord, here’s a pretty pickle and no mistake. Don’t say you have gone and fallen for the girl yourself’?” Ordley laughed unpleasantly. “Well, doubtless Saltaire will be only too pleased to hand her over to you now. He doesn’t like his women second-hand.”

A hand shot out and grasped his cravat in a grip like a vice. Cold, blue eyes bored into his. “lf I ever hear you say that again, Ordley, it will be the very last thing you do say. I promise you that.”

Ordley stuttered a little. “Come, Andover, you are being ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous or not, Ordley, I mean every word,” replied the Marquis urbanely.

Summoning what little dignity he could, Ordley took his leave.

Andover, his face thoughtful, summoned a footman. “Johns, do you recall that last production at Drury Lane called The Ill-Used Wife?” He paused for a second and murmured, “Most appropriate.”

“Aye, My Lord.”

“Good. I seem to recall there was a young boy in it. A pert lad.”

“Yes, My Lord. I seem to remember him.”

“I have a small job for him. Remunerative, you understand? I should like to see him.” The footman bowed and left.

Having reached his decision, the Marquis did not waste time in implementing it. His commands carried out by his henchman, he surveyed the boy standing in front of him very carefully. “So, Master Timothy. You would like to earn yourself twenty guineas?”

“Twenty guineas?” The sharp eyes narrowed. “‘Ere, gov, it depends wot I arf to do. No stealing nor murdering.”

“No stealing or murdering,” promised the Marquis with a vagrant smile in his eyes. I can do that for myself.”

The boy’s owl-like stare did not waiver. “Well then, wot?”

“Oh it is nothing, merely a matter of-causing a slight disturbance. Tell me, boy, how good are you at disturbances? Excellent I should think. You can make plenty of noise no doubt?”

The boy nodded his agreement.

“Well, here’s what I shall require you to do.”

To Lavinia, whenever she chanced to recall it later, the days between the incident at Vauxhall Gardens and the night of the ball, seemed to pass in a haze of numbness. Some time later she would feel pain and would cry, but not now. Her only instinct was that of all wounded animals. To find a place to hide and lick her wounds, but even that solace was denied her.

Some days she felt that she could never escape Saltaire’s mocking eyes and harsh face. Not even when she closed her eyes at night, for even in her dreams he pursued her. However, at last the morning of the ball dawned clear and fine. Rising from her bed heavy-headed, Lavinia looked at the blue sky without enthusiasm.

Downstairs, maids and footmen bustled to and fro; outside, the plants were arriving and being ferried into the house in a never ending stream. Soon the housekeeper would be searching for her. Lavinia sighed. She longed to return to her bed and stay there, forever ifnecessary. Never had she been so conscious of being alone. Kitty and Richard had one another. Ware, whose friendship she had come to value, had been out of town for several days, and the Marquis… She shivered. Somehow she must get through the day. Lady Elizabeth and Richard would be arriving shortly. Several hours later, checking the menus with Mrs. Johnson, she smiled across at her cousin. “Thank goodness you are here, Elizabeth. lf you had not helped I could never have managed.”

Lady Elizabeth disclaimed, but was flattered nevertheless. If she had heard anything of the rumours sweeping the town concerning her cousin and Andover, she wisely refrained from mentioning them.

By mid afternoon Lavinia was glad to take Elizabeth’s advice and seek out her couch, and for the first time in weeks she fell into a light but refreshing sleep. She was still lying on the elegant day bed when Saltaire stepped into her room. For a second he stood looking down at her as she lay there. His features were harsh. The daylight emphasised the grooves running from nose to mouth, and the curious brooding expression lurking in his eyes. Lavinia slept on, her curls tumbled, one hand flung protectively over the covers. She moved in her sleep, muttering slightly. The Earl bent towards her, straightening suddenly as if he had changed his mind. As quietly as he had entered, he left, his face for once stripped of all mockery.

When her maid roused her at six o’clock, Lavinia stretched out and yawned. “You should have woken me earlier,” she chided. “There is so much to be done.”

The maid smiled. “Lady Elizabeth told me not to disturb you. Everything is done. Miss Kitty is dressing now and Master Richard is downstairs.”

Lavinia smiled weakly. “l must hurry then, dinner will be served shortly.” A sudden thought struck her. “Is my husband home?”

“Why yes, My Lady.” The maid looked slightly confused. “The Earl has been home two or three hours past. He did look in on you not thirty minutes ago. I chanced to notice because I was just coming to see if you were awake.” She did not say that she also chanced to see the expression on the Earl ‘s face, and had wondered about it. The whole household knew of the state of affairs between the Earl and his Countess, and beneath the maid’s common-sense exterior beat an extremely romantic heart. She had no doubts as to what took the Earl to his wife’s bedchamber.

Seeing her mistress’s eyes upon her, she said, “There, I expect he hadn’t the heart to wake you. I didn’t want to myself, you looked so peaceful lying there.”

Lavinia’s breath became constricted, to think of SaItaire in her room, watching her. and her all unknowing. She clutched her wrapper more firmly around her slender body, his saturnine face floating before her.

At last she was ready. The dress was everything she had hoped and more, but it gave her scant pleasure now. She knew now why she had bought it, not because her husband had angered her, but because she had hoped somewhere deep down inside that beautifully gowned, like the women he knew, he would find her desirable, There was faint hope of that now. He had made his feelings all too plain. Besides, she knew enough of his pride to know that, thinking her another’s mistress, he would never take her now-except in revenge or anger, murmured a small voice. But it is in love, I want him, she protested.

Contrary to normal custom, they were not having a large dinner party before the ball. Only the intimate family would be dining at Grosvenor Square, not even Ordley had been invited.

She took a last glimpse in the mirror. She peered closer. There was no sign of unhappiness in her face. She straightened. There was a slight tap on the door. Thinking it would be Kitty, she nodded to the maid. “That’s fine, you have done very well. Thank you. Go down and get your supper whilst you can.” The girl dropped a curtsey and opened the door. Lavinia blinked in surprise, colour flooding her face, “Why, Saltaire,” she stuttered.

He stepped into the room, dressed sleekly in ivory satin, gold embroidery and diamonds. In his hand was a slim, black velvet box. He eyed her briefly. “You are ready?”

She could only nod, her eyes dropping beneath his. What had brought him to her room whilst she slept?

He beckoned to her, and with unwilling feet she crossed the room to him. When at last she stood before him, he opened the box. In other circumstances she could not have withheld a gasp of delight at the contents-diamonds, vivid with their own fiery life, set in delicate gold scroll work, fragile as a cobweb. Dispassionately, he lifted the necklace from its satin bed and placed it round her neck. “I had them reset shortly after our marriage. They were my mother’s.” he added briefly.

Lavinia touched them gently. “They are beautiful. Thank you.”

He shrugged, “All the Saltaire brides wear them. I thought it only fitting.”

His words struck a chill in her heart. Had these diamonds ever been given in love? She doubted it. She smiled coolly. “Most fitting. I shall take great care of them. I must go down now, otherwise they will have to set back dinner.”

The meal was over. Saltaire got to his feet and lifted his glass. “If you will all join me in a toast. To the success of the evening.”

Dutifully they all drank. “Well, my dear, if we aren’t careful, our guests will be arriving before we have left the table.”

No one commented on the fact that the host had not toasted his bride. Lady Elizabeth, Kitty and Richard rose. The Earl and Lavinia would have to take their places at the head of the curving staircase to greet their guests.

Within an hour Lavinia’s head was swimming with names, and to think she had once worried that no-one would come. It seemed impossible for the ballroom to hold even one more couple.

The evening was an unrivalled success. Everywhere she went Lavinia caught snatches of praise, often tinged with malice or envy. “Fresh flowers, my dear, how entrancing. How very original. I would never have thought of it.”

“It must have cost Saltaire a fortune,” sniffed one dowager sourly. and Lavinia who was passing, repressed an urge to tell her that it had not cost Saltaire a penny. However, that would have been untrue. The Earl, having fulfilled the terms of his grandfather’s will, had come into a considerable fortune. He had paid every one of the bills incurred so determinedly by his wife, whilst her money remained untouched, and for quite some time even he himself, astute though he was, had not known why. By the time he did, it was far too late to remedy matters, unpalatable though he might find them. There was no going back.

The decoration of the ballroom, magnificent though it was, with the cunningly wrought bower of flowers concealing the musicians, and the artfully contrived waterfall, illuminated with coloured candles floating on a minature pool, complete with fish, faded into relative insignificance as all eyes of the guests were drawn to the hostess. In a glittering swaying rainbow of colours, Lavinia stood out like a diamond amongst a heap of semi-precious stones.

Behind their fans, ladies who had previously been somewhat scornful about the new Countess, whispered. “Have you seen her dress? Such an unusual colour … and to match the walls.”

“So affected,” drawled one lady, not used to being overshadowed in such a manner.

“… and most effective,” added her companion, only eyeing their own gowns which clashed most horribly with the decor

Under the glittering light of the chandeliers, now revealed in all their beauty, jewels flashed and eyes sparkled with malice, wit and desire, according to their owners’ inclinations. The musicians struck up the opening dance. Lavinia and the Earl welcomed the last of their guests. The stairs were now deserted, and the ballroom crammed.

Cheeks flushed, Lavinia surveyed the room. There could be no doubt as to the success of the evening. She heaved a small sigh, standing alone for a second breathing the heavily perfumed air, unaware that her sad air was drawing several curious comments. More than one pair of male eyes was resting extremely thoughtfully on her. The second set was forming. Lavinia shook herself out of her apathy. She was engaged for this cotillion with Richard. A small sigh escaped her. Apart from the one duty dance to open the ball, Saltaire had not even glanced at her card. Still, perhaps it was better that they avoided one another.

Lord Ware, sauntering over to join Saltaire before supper, watched the dancers idly for a second. “So, how was the country, my dear Ware? No, don’t tell me,” the Earl

shuddered fastidiously. “Let me guess, dirty and wet.’

Ware smiled. “If I didn’t know you better, Saltaire. I might almost take you for a court idler. However, I have seen you ride to hounds. By the way,” he began, a more serious note entering his voice, “I’m relieved to see Lavinia appears all right.”

Hooded lids dropped over the dark eyes. “All right.” murmured the Earl. “Why should she not be?:

Lord Ware frowned, “Come, Saltaire, you must know what I mean, after her unpleasant experience at Vauxhall. Poor girl, she must have been badly shocked.”

“You’ve heard about it, have you? I had never taken you for a gossip, Ware. I thought that line of country more suited to my cousin.”

Lord Ware eyed his friend in astonishment. “Gossip, nothing of the sort I assure you. Gribbling told me. You know him, I fancy. He has recently come to London. He was there at Vauxhall and saw the whole. In fact, he confided to me that had Andover not arrived when he did, he would have intervened himself. It is a disgrace-pickpockets and worse everywhere one goes. It is fortunate that Lavinia is so strong spirited, but nevertheless it must have been exceedingly unpleasant.”

Saltaire very slowly placed his glass on the table, the long fingers clenching on the delicate stem, his eyes like emeralds in the pallor of his face.

“Ware, what are you saying?”

Ware looked nonplussed. There was a note in his friend’s voice he had never heard before. Gone was the lazy drawl and the mocking amusement.

“Why, I am talking of the attack upon Lavinia.” A sudden thought struck him. “Never say she did not tell you? But there, doubtless she would not wish to worry you, and as I say, Andover was there.”

The Earl did not seek to enlighten him. “So your friend saw Lavinia being attacked?”

“Ah yes. The ruffian walked right past him after Andover had sent him on his way. It is fortunate he was close.” Ware coughed depreciatingly. “Hope you don’t mind my mentioning it, Saltaire, but the town’s full of gossip. It seemed Lavinia was completely on her own. I know she’s your wife, but to let her gad about unescorted.” He shook his head reprovingly. “If she were my wife. I wouldn’t let her out of my sight. Damn fine woman, Saltaire. You are a fool, if you don’t mind my saying so.” Having said his piece, he rocked back on his heels and waited for the outburst. There was none.

“She was looking for Kitty,” murmured the Earl dispassionately, seemingly engrossed in the contents of his wine glass.

“Oh, Kitty. Well yes, that explains it’” offered Lord Ware manfully, “˜Tell me, is it true that she and young Arnedale are to make a match of it?”