Angel's Touch (15 page)

The
marquis, jerked out of the mood he had himself evoked, was about to
order the gypsy to leave them alone when he changed his mind. Here
was an opportunity to dispel the tension, and perhaps amuse Miss
Lambourn and so bring the smile back into her eyes. At this moment,
revealing his identity was quite impossible.

‘
Why
not, Miss Lambourn?’ he said encouragingly, digging a hand into his
pocket.

‘
Oh,
I could not,’ Verity protested, but the gypsy was already turning
her hand, looking at its shape, and she began to be
intrigued.

‘
It is a holiday, Miss Lambourn,’ Salmesbury
said, slipping a silver coin into the old woman’s ready palm. ‘To
partake of such amusements is positively
de rigueur.
’

‘
Off
with the glove, dearie,’ ordered Mairenni, tugging herself at the
mitten and exposing Verity’s hand.

She
studied the palm in silence for a moment and Verity waited,
succumbing to the age-old curiosity of every young lady to know
what was to befall her. But when the old crone glanced up at her,
she saw trouble in the woman’s face.

‘
What is it?’ she asked, seized by an apprehensive
chill.

‘
No
wonder ye weep,’ said old Mairenni. ‘Many a sorrow have ye
weathered, dearie, only to encounter more.’

‘
Gracious, don’t say so!’

‘
Worry not, child, worry not,’ chided Mairenni, clicking her
tongue. ‘For though, t’be sure, there be many tears to shed, there
be smiles to come hereafter.’

‘
I
am glad,’ put in the marquis with an attempt at lightness. ‘I had
begun to think I had done you an ill turn.’

Verity chuckled, but Mairenni’s sharp old eyes sought and
held Salmesbury’s black ones.

‘
So
ye have, sir, so ye have,’ she cackled. ‘But not fer crossing my
palm.’

‘
What in the world do you mean?’ demanded Verity, looking from
one to the other.

‘
Gentleman know,’ said Mairenni, and winked at the
Marquis.

‘
Do
you?’

He
smiled, but with an effort. ‘Possibly. We will talk of it
later.’

‘
Very well, then, is that all you have to tell me?’ Verity
asked.

‘
And
what d’ye want more?’ asked the old woman, eyes glinting. ‘Shall I
see fer ye a handsome stranger to wed ye and a quiverful o’ brats,
eh?’

‘
No,
but—’

‘
Aye, but ye shall have ’em. Ye shall have ’em all. And beyond
that, dearie, ye shall have yer heart’s desire, fer that ain’t it.
Only it happens ye be mistaken, and one fine day that wild
imagination o’yourn that fires yer mind with visions shall find a
home. But by then ye’ll have found it out, for the heart be its own
mistress, dearie, and, looking fer yer heart’s desire, ye’ll find
ye have it in yer hands.’

Verity stared at her,
quite dumbfounded. But Salmesbury laughed out loud.

‘
You
speak in riddles, old woman. Miss Lambourn, if you are able to make
head or tail of all that, I wish you joy of it.’

The
crone cackled and gave him a knowing grin. ‘She’ll have joy, sir—at
the last.’ Then she handed Verity her mitten and went off in search
of further custom.

Verity looked at Salmesbury. ‘That was uncanny.’

‘
Did
she hit on a truth, then?’ asked the marquis with a faint
smile.

‘
What she spoke of as my heart’s desire,’
Verity said slowly. ‘She certainly seems to have known how I use my
leisure time. And I
do
dream of—’ She broke off. ‘Oh, well, it must all be nonsense,
I suppose.’

‘
My
dear Miss Lambourn, how could you possibly tell? She said nothing
to the purpose, and what she did say could be applied to any set of
circumstances you care to name. I beg you will not take it
seriously.’

‘
Of
course not. Upon my word, if I did, I should be in a fever of
anxiety about these sorrows which she says are gathering about my
head.’

‘
Let
us hope she is mistaken. Indeed, I am sure she is. I cannot
suppose, Miss Lambourn, that anyone of sensibility would wittingly
give you any cause for sorrow.’

Something in his voice
arrested her, and as she looked at him there was more than a smile
in the back of his eyes and her pulse did a little dance.

‘
Oh,
Mr Haverigg,’ she sighed unvoluntarily.

His
face changed and the smile left it. His voice sharpened. ‘They
might, however, give you cause for anger.’

She
flushed a little and drew back. ‘You mean I am quick-tempered, I
dare say. Alas, I know it.’

He
shook his head. ‘I did not mean that. Miss Lambourn, it is quite
time that I—’

‘
Salmesbury!’

The shout came from
his left. In instinctive reaction he turned his head, and realised
that she did, too. A dapper young gentleman with a pleasant face,
all smiles, was waving a beaver hat in the air.

‘
Salmesbury, you sly dog!’ he called as he approached. ‘Went
to visit you at Braxted, like the good cousin I am, only to be told
you’d slipped your leash and gone off raking. Here’s a new
come-out, old fellow. What do you mean by it, eh?’

There was an ominous silence. Seeming to become aware of
tension, and catching the marquis’s glance, the new arrival saw
that the young lady was staring at his cousin with dilating eyes,
her colour fluctuating.

‘
How
could
you?’ she got out in a barely audible voice. ‘Oh,
how could you deceive me so?’

‘
Have I,’ asked the unfortunate newcomer, ‘said anything in
any way out of place?’

‘
No,
of course not,’ answered the marquis automatically. ‘Miss
Lambourn—’

Verity, her lip
trembling, and tears pricking at her eyes, shook her head.

‘
The gypsy was right,
my lord
,’
she threw at him huskily, and, turning, she fled from him to
seek refuge in her lodgings, her happy day in
ruins.

Salmesbury stood where
she had left him, his pale features quite ghostlike.

His
cousin touched his arm. ‘I’m so sorry, old fellow, I seem to have
blundered. Though I’ve not a notion what is going on.’

The
marquis clasped the hand on his arm and gripped it, dredging up a
weak smile. ‘Quainton, it is not your fault. It is I who have
blundered. I meant to tell her the truth, but I allowed myself to
be distracted and—well, it can’t be helped. I dare say it would
have provoked the same reaction if I had told her
myself.’

Mr
Leonard Quainton tutted sympathetically. ‘Poor fellow. You never
seem to have any luck.’

Salmesbury managed a laugh. ‘Oh, it is not as bad as that.
Besides I do have luck. Meeting Miss Lambourn has been the greatest
piece of good fortune to befall me in many a long day. Thanks to
her, I have begun to make some very necessary and long overdue
alterations in my way of life.’

‘
I
can see that,’ agreed his cousin bracingly. ‘To see you at a fair
of all things! You could have knocked me down with a feather when
Cradoc told me where to find you. Didn’t believe it, in fact. Said
I’d come and see for myself. And here you are, large as life.’ He
pressed his cousin’s shoulder. ‘I’m devilish glad to see you out
like this, old fellow.’

The
marquis smiled, in genuine amusement this time. ‘I should think you
might be. After all, you’ve been plaguing me to come out of hiding
for months.’

‘
Yes, and a fat lot you did about it,’ retorted Quainton. ‘Who
is this Miss Lambourn, that she succeeds where we have all
failed?’

A
shadow clouded the marquis’s smile. ‘She is heaven’s messenger, and
I cannot
bear
it
if she is to harbour this ill opinion of me.’ He turned to his
cousin and grasped his hand. ‘You must help me, Leo.’

‘
Anything in my power, old fellow. My mistake. Only too happy
to help to set it to rights.’

***

Mr
Haverigg—the marquis! Oh, it was too mortifying!

Pacing the carpet in the small parlour of Lady Crossens’
lodgings, Verity clasped and unclasped her mittened hands. The
tears she had been obliged to keep back as she hurried across the
green had given place to justifiable anger. Her thoughts had been
so much occupied that she had passed by Dogget, anxiously awaiting
her return, without even seeing him.

‘
Miss! Miss!’ he called out, and then had to chase after her
and forcibly put himself in her way. ‘Are you all right, miss?’ he
asked in quick concern, noting her distress. ‘Shall I fetch you to
her ladyship?’

‘
No,
no, Dogget, I am perfectly well,’ she lied hastily. ‘I am—I am a
little fatigued and so I will go home. Thank you for your
escort.’

But
Dogget, knowing his mistress would expect it of him, insisted on
seeing her to the door of her lodgings. He determined to wait
outside also, for with miss in one of her odd moods there was no
saying but she might not dash out again at any moment and run off
the Lord alone knew where.

Miss
Lambourn’s mood was decidedly odd. While she raged at the deceit
that had been practised upon her, she was haunted by the memory of
that tragic look in the black eyes when he told her that it was his
fault that his wife was dead.

His
wife.
His
children. Everything began to
fall into place at once. She had
told
him that she did not think he
could be the father. She had expressly stated her opinion of him—as
the marquis. How could the poor man have revealed himself after
that? What a wretch she was to say such wounding things! Though to
be sure she had no notion then that she could hurt him.

Fool
that she was. Papa would say that she merely quibbled. Could she
not have found out, made certain? Remembering now the way he had
behaved, the reaction of his servants, she thought how blind she
had been not to guess at once. But no, she was shackled to her
prejudice of what a marquis
should
be, and so she refused to believe that so
insignificant, so mild a man could occupy such a place.

The
image of him came into her mind and she realised at once that of
course he was not insignificant at all. He had a power, a presence
that made one notice him. It was not merely his title that
commanded the respect of his people. Nor was he mild. She smiled at
her own simplicity. What an epithet for a man of such inner fire.
He was far from mild, in spite of that quiet manner of speech, that
pale face and the limp he carried with becoming dignity.

‘
Oh,
dear God,’ muttered Verity aloud suddenly. ‘He was injured in the
accident. Oh, Mr Haverigg!’

Tears rose to her eyes
again and she dashed them away as she realised what she had
said.

‘
Fool. He is
not
Mr Haverigg. He is the Marquis
of Salmesbury,’ she told herself savagely, ‘and the sooner you
realise that Miss Verity Lambourn and the Marquis of Salmesbury are
poles apart, the better it will be for you.’

After which, she collected the second volume of
The Adventures of Peregrine Pickle
and retired to a comfortable armchair, where she
sat with the book open in front of her, her eyes gazing unseeingly
into the middle distance, and thought about the marquis without
cessation until the return of Lady Crossens obliged her to assume a
cheerful aspect she was far from feeling.

‘
There you are, child,’ said her ladyship, walking into the
parlour. ‘Dogget tells me you left the diversions somewhat
precipitately. Are you unwell?’

‘
Oh,
no,’ Verity said at once, blushing a little. ‘It was—I—oh, I was
overcome by the press of people, ma’am, that is all.’

‘
I
am not surprised. We have been positively deafened by the appalling
din,’ Lady Crossens complained. She animadverted somewhat bitterly
for a moment or two against the unwisdom of persons who saw fit to
ruin the peace of visitors by allowing the mob to cause a riot and
rumpus at their very doors.

Miss
Lambourn could not allow this to pass. ‘Dear ma’am, you surely
cannot begrudge them one day of rational enjoyment. Besides, it was
extremely pleasant until—’

She
broke off, flushing, and Lady Crossens looked at her rather hard.
She had noticed of late a tendency in her young charge to go off
into daydreams when she thought no one was observing her. Indeed,
Grace Lambourn had warned her to expect this. But her ladyship was
not a fool, and she was certain there was something behind Verity’s
odd silences. If she had not been upset today, Lady Crossens was no
judge of the matter. Even if her faithful groom had not reported
the threatening tears he had observed.

‘
What ails you, child?’ she asked with unwonted
gentleness.

At
once there was a pricking in Verity’s eyes and she averted her
face. ‘If you please, ma’am, I—I would rather not talk of
it.’