Amanda Scott (12 page)

“Chalford has a yacht,” she added. “I daresay everyone in south Kent has a yacht.”

“To be sure, ma’am,” he said, exchanging an amused glance with Adriana, “but I am persuaded that the
Golden Fleece
is a superior bit of craftsmanship, and I should be proud to show her off. You must let me show you her paces one day, Lady Chalford.”

“Tell about the French ships, for goodness’ sake!” Lady Hetta said so sharply that Adriana would not have been surprised had she stamped her little foot to underscore the command.

“Please, sir, do tell us,” she said.

“My pleasure.” He smiled at her, then glancing at the others, added quickly, “We had drawn rather nearer the French coast than usual, you see, for it was a fine day for sailing—”

“Indeed, sir?” interrupted Sarah, her eyebrows lifted in surprise. “I thought the day a dismal one, myself. It looked every minute as though it meant to come on to mizzle.”

“Oh, no, not after two o’clock or so,” he said, shaking his head. “Indeed, ma’am, we saw the sun several times, and the wind was ideal for sailing. In point of fact, it was so good that we nearly sailed into the battle before we realized where we were.”

“So you see,” said Lady Hetta triumphantly, “there was a battle, an actual engagement and not a mere exercise.”

“Oh, yes,” Braverstoke said, “it was a bit of truly smart action—three of our ships against a number of the enemy’s large brigs and luggers.”

“Good gracious,” Adriana said, staring.

Sally’s mouth was open, and others were drawing near to hear it again. Lord Braverstoke said eagerly, “’Twas damned nearly the whole French navy at the first of it. Tell them, Randall.”

“Indeed, sir. After watching the French flotilla for six weeks, our people learned it had been joined by reinforcements, and three of our ships went to have a look. Forewarning aside, it must have astounded them this morning to encounter dashed well the whole French fleet just south of Cape Gris-Nez—thirty-four of them, we were told, with eleven brigs, steering south toward Boulogne under the cover of artillery batteries from shore.”

“I’ll wager they felt safe enough,” observed his father. “Our flagship, you say, had but two brigs to assist it.”

“Nevertheless,” declared Lady Adelaide from her sofa, “I daresay that three English ships is a sufficient force to rout any number of French vessels.”

“As you say, ma’am, particularly since they engaged only the ships at the tail end of the flotilla.” Again, Randall Braverstoke exchanged an amused glance with Adriana.

“But we won the battle,” declared Lady Hetta happily.

“Well, ma’am, we wounded a good many on board the French ships, to be sure, and our grape-and-musket shot carried to the beach as well, but I fear that without having captured a single ship, which we did not, one cannot truly claim victory.”

Chalford said, “’Tis a problem the English navy has faced throughout history, I believe, that the French coast is always so strongly fortified. Every few miles they have a port their ships can put into when disabled.”

Norfolk agreed, then added with a smile, “Though of late we seldom succeed in capturing anything, these skirmishes have a good effect by showing the damned French what they may expect if ever they do make a grand dash at us across the Channel.”

Lady Adelaide nodded her approval of these words. “To be sure,” she said, “England must always prevail in the end.”

“I’ll not debate that,” Braverstoke said, “but our ships took a hammering today from the French shore batteries. My crew and I could do nothing to aid in the battle, of course, but we lingered close, thinking they might be glad of our aid afterward. They were much mauled, the flagship taking on a foot of water an hour, so although English skill may have caused some grief, you will perceive that the
monsieurs
had their share of the fun.”

Since Lady Adelaide appeared to enjoy no such perception, it was as well that Benstead appeared upon the threshold just then to announce in his most stately manner that dinner was served.

Norfolk, as the ranking gentleman present, offered his arm to Adriana, saying in a confiding tone as he did so, “Did I ever tell you that Prinny and I are responsible for introducing the civilized habit of dining at this later hour?”

She grinned at him, her eyes twinkling. “No, sir, I don’t believe you’ve ever mentioned that fact to me, but I can assure you that I have heard the tale more than once in my life. My father has been known to describe your dinners with his royal highness as Greek symposiums, with Bacchus as the central god. You will thus approve of Chalford’s dining room. The decor provides a veritable temple to Bacchus.”

Norfolk chuckled in appreciation, patting the slim hand resting upon his forearm as he did so. “Chalford showed great good sense in falling tail over top for you, my dear. You will make an excellent marchioness. Every man should be so blessed.”

“Thank you, sir.” She could scarcely reply in kind—the present Duchess of Norfolk having gone mad shortly after her marriage to the duke, and it being quite ineligible to mention even one of his many mistresses—so Adriana deftly turned the conversation to his restoration activities.

This topic proved a successful one, since his grace, seated at her right, was perfectly willing to discourse throughout dinner upon his activities. She divided her attention, as was perfectly proper, between this conversation and an enjoyable flirtation with Lord Clifford on her left.

The company was merry, the service excellent, and the hum of conversation droned for an hour before there came one of those odd silences that fall upon every group from time to time, no matter how large or noisy. At that moment, Chalford was informing his butler that several of the guests had expressed a desire to visit the owls after the meal. “’Twas plaguily dim in the keep last evening,” he said, “so ask the lads to take up some lanterns, but try not to disturb the inhabitants too much. We don’t want them all taking flight, after all.”

Benstead replied clearly, with his customary dignity, “Very good, my lord. Your guests may be interested to learn, in point of fact, that the Prince of Wales has laid an egg.”

There was a moment’s stunned silence, followed by a crack of laughter from Norfolk. “And not for the first time, either,” he chortled. There was more laughter then, and the merriment grew as guests who understood explained the matter to their neighbors.

Lady Henrietta waited until the noise had abated somewhat before saying brightly, albeit to no one in particular, “That owl must more properly be renamed for the princess now, I suppose.”

That brought more laughter and several comments regarding the Princess of Wales’s reputation that were less than flattering. Adriana, seeing Sally frown, hoped her friend’s customarily strong sense of propriety would forbid her taking up the cudgels on behalf of the Prince of Wales’s beleaguered wife as she had been known to do on other, less formal occasions, but Sally remained silent. It was Sophie’s voice that could be heard as the laughter died away.

“’Tis a shocking thing,” she said indignantly to the gentleman beside her in a tone loud enough to have been heard above the laughter, “to hear persons of quality making mock of the royal family in such a vulgar fashion.”

Another brief silence followed this pronouncement before Lady Adelaide graciously requested her dinner partner to tell her, if he would, a little more about his house in Somerset. The general conversation at once began to hum again, and Sophie, cast into high color, applied her attention to her dinner.

At last it was over. Leaving the gentlemen to enjoy their port, the ladies retired to the great hall, where the conversation became general, ambling from topic to topic until the men joined them there. Lady Adelaide then took matters in hand, suggesting to Chalford that he take those who wished to see the owls straight out to the keep. When they had gone, she urged several young ladies among the remaining guests to display their talent on the pianoforte, and when the others returned, Adriana, Sarah, and Miranda helped her organize tables for games.

Adriana enjoyed herself very much, finding time to enjoy mild flirtations with Mr. Dawlish and Mr. Bennett, indeed with nearly every gentleman present, except of course Claude Ringwell, Sophie’s foppish brother, whose fulsome compliments engendered no more response in her than a strong itch to slap him.

When the tea trays were brought in at half-past ten and the servants began to clear the game table where she had been attempting for some time, unsuccessfully, to recover a mythical fortune lost at Commerce, Adriana got up to stretch her legs. Making her way toward a window embrasure, she encountered Mr. Braverstoke and in the course of a brief exchange of pleasantries reminded him of his promise to take her out on his yacht.

“It will be my pleasure, I assure you,” he said with an ardent smile, adding apologetically, “It cannot be for a few days yet, however. My captain informed me when we returned today that there are some trifling repairs that must be made. Now, with the uncertain weather, it is an excellent time to attend to them. I want everything to be in good order when I show you my beauty.”

“May a mere husband take part in this conversation?” inquired Chalford, coming to stand beside Adriana. “I have scarcely exchanged a word with you all day, my lady.”

She smiled at him. “Mr. Braverstoke has been telling me about his yacht, sir, the
Golden Fleece.
Indeed, he has offered to take me out sailing one day. I should like that very much.”

“Perhaps your husband will not allow it,” said Braverstoke, regarding the marquess with an air of amused challenge.

“I have no objection,” Chalford said. “Indeed, I have heard she is a speedy little craft. I’d like very much to have the opportunity to sail aboard her myself.”

“Then,” said Braverstoke, resigned but polite, “you must come with us, certainly.”

“Oh, yes, Joshua, that would be the very thing.”

If Braverstoke did not share Adriana’s enthusiasm when Chalford said he would be delighted to join them, nothing in his expression other than a little stiffness in his smile betrayed his disappointment. He assured them both that he would inform them as soon as the ship was ready to set out again.

Once the tea things had been cleared away, Lord Braverstoke and the other local people began to make their
adieux
and take their departure. With this example set, the houseguests too, began to bid their hosts good night. Soon, only Villiers, Lord Clifford, and Norfolk were left, the first two of these gentlemen having ruthlessly abandoned their wives to solitary cots in order to sit up with the duke over a game of whist for pound points.

While Adriana teasingly admonished them for their connubial defection, Chalford rang for the third footman. “See to the gentlemen’s needs, Jacob. If they play too late, you have my leave to nap in the outer hall. They can wake you if they wish to do so.” He looked at the three, who were all grinning at him. “You will not miss us if we retire, gentlemen. There is plenty of port left, or if you prefer, Jacob can serve you whatever else you like. Come, my lady, ’tis bed for us.”

Bidding the others good night, Adriana went up the stairs with her husband, then alone to her dressing room, her spirits sagging with the knowledge that many of their guests would depart the next day, the rest the day after, for Brighton. When she had dismissed Nancy, she moved to look out her bedchamber window at the Channel. All was quiet now and a crescent moon cast silvery light on the restless dark waters in the distance, highlighting breaking crests on the rolling waves.

“’Tis a magnificent view, is it not?”

She had not heard him come in, but she turned now to look at him. He wore a dark-blue silk dressing gown tied at the waist with a long sash of the same material. His feet were bare on the carpeted floor. She smiled at him. “I am glad you came in. You were right in saying we have not talked today. I have not even thanked you for coming in last night as you did.”

“You thanked me more than once last night, sweetheart, and thanks were neither expected nor necessary. I knew you would be frightened of the storm.”

“But I had not been kind to you, Joshua—earlier in the evening, I mean. When I—”

“I know what you mean, Adriana. You were angry, that is all. You have every right to express your anger to me.”

“But it does no good,” she protested. “You do not listen.”

“I listen,” he said, giving her a straight, rather stern look, “but your anger has not been particularly reasonable, has it? You are vexed because I refuse to follow the mob to Brighton at a time when that city may be counted upon to be full to overflowing, when it will be well nigh impossible to move about the streets for the crowds, and when there are matters demanding my attention here. I have many things to do, and so do you. You ought to spend more time with Aunt Adelaide, for one thing—”

She felt her unpredictable temper stir again and forcibly repressed it. Turning back to the window, she said with a calm to match his own, “I will learn all she can teach me, Joshua, but I have no wish to learn the whole in a week or to demand that she relinquish to me those duties that she enjoys so much. Moreover, I do not believe my vexation stems entirely from your refusal to take me to Brighton, nor do I consider the request unreasonable.”

“We are back to that, are we?” The muscle high on his right cheek twitched. “I do not wish to discuss that issue again.”

“Nor do I wish it, sir,” she said, turning her head to glare at him, exasperated, “but I find your attitude both selfish and arrogant. I have asked for one thing, and you say you are too busy to accommodate me; yet I cannot think what it is you do here that is so crucial that your people cannot manage without you.”

“It is my duty to oversee everything that goes on,” he said reasonably. “I have been away two months, after all. There is much to learn about what transpired while I was away.”

“Brighton is where our friends are, Joshua, and after so many years of being buried at Wryde, years of submitting either to Papa’s decrees or to Alston’s, is it so unreasonable to wish to share the company of my friends, to share their amusements?”