Elizabeth Mansfield (28 page)

He hummed under his breath as he waited for Miss Penicuick to return. His pulse raced at the prospect of their imminent reunion. He would take her in his arms in so passionate an embrace that—

“Sorry, my lord,” Miss Penicuick said, handing him back his note unopened. “Her ladyship is still not in.”

Robert reddened in anger. “She would not even
read
it?”

“No, my lord. She said that any written communications could reach her through her father.”

“Oh, she did, did she?” he muttered furiously, ripping the note in half and then in half again and throwing the pieces on the ground. “You may tell her for me that the note was for her eyes or for no one’s!” And he stalked off to his curricle and drove furiously away down the drive.

When he’d put a couple of miles between him and her father’s house, he grew calmer. Perhaps it might be a good idea at that, he thought. He would pay her father a visit at his office. Mr. Chivers would be on his side. Perhaps he might be able to help.

But Chivers’s greeting was not warm. “I can’t ’elp ye, Kittridge,” he said flatly. “The girl is too cut up. She doesn’t wish to live with ye any more.”

“But dash it all, Chivers, we’re
married
! And what dreadful thing did I do to her, after all? Fell into a rage because she read some private letters, that’s all. Many a man, finding himself in my place, would have done much worse.”

Chivers shrugged. “I don’t say ye’re at fault, Kittridge. In my eyes ye seem a perfectly amiable fellow. But I’ll admit to ye that I don’t understand these newfangled notions about love and romance and all. Cassie’s got it in ’er ’head that marriage doesn’t work without love, and per’aps she’s right.” He looked up at his son-in-law in embarrassment. “She’s confessed to me that yer marriage isn’t … wasn’t … er … consummated.”

“Has she?” Kittridge asked carefully, wondering what his father-in-law was getting at.

“So I’ve an appointment to see a solicitor. To ask about the possibility of annullin’ the marriage, ye see.”

“Indeed?” Kittridge managed to keep his expression impassive.

“Ye needn’t poker up that way,” Chivers said. “I won’t ask fer the return of the settlement. Ye tried
to keep yer part of the bargain, so the money’s yours.”

“Hang the money!” Kittridge’s mind suddenly began to race. A scheme to win his wife back came rushing into his mind. It was shocking in its vulgarity, but it might work. “I’m not concerned about the money,” he repeated. “But you’re wasting your time with solicitors, Chivers. No one will believe you. Your daughter didn’t tell the truth. The marriage
was
consummated.”

Chivers blinked up at him in surprise. “What’s that ye say?” he jumped angrily to his feet. “I’ll ’ave ye know, Kittridge, that my Cassie doesn’t lie!”

His lordship smiled coolly and picked up his hat. “I am also known for telling the truth. Your daughter and I lived in the same house for five months. Who do you think is more likely to be believed?”

He sauntered out of the office and down to the street. It was a lovely day. He smiled to himself as he saw Cassie’s face in his imagination. He pictured her reddening in indignation as her father recounted the conversation he’d had with her husband. Robert didn’t know what action her indignation would lead her to take, but he hoped it would bring her rushing to Rossiter House to confront him. That confrontation was what he hoped for. It would be all he’d need.

He was still smiling to himself as he approached Bond Street. The street was busy with shoppers, but Kittridge took no notice of them. His head was so full of plans that he didn’t hear his name called until someone hissed in his ear, “Robbie! Wake up! It’s I!”

He turned and found himself face to face with Elinor. She was a vision in a high feathered hat and a green and white striped walking dress. She seemed taller than he remembered, but her red-gold hair and translucent skin were as remarkable as ever. “Elinor!” he gasped. Recovering quickly, he bowed over her hand. “I’d heard that you’d returned from the continent. And that you are receiving best wishes on your betrothal.”

She blushed. “Yes, I am. As a matter of fact, Mama has stopped in at the stationer’s just behind you to order the cards for the wedding. I escaped from her because I caught a glimpse of you and wished to … to speak to you. Who knows when, if ever, we shall get such a chance as this to be private.”

He smiled at her gently. “There’s not much need to be private, is there? I think that what we have to say to each other has already been said.”

Her eyes misted. “Oh, Robbie, I … I suppose so. Have you missed me, my dear? I’ve missed you dreadfully, especially at first. Mama was right, though. One does get over things after a time.”

“Yes,” he said.

She looked at him tenderly. “Have you gotten over me, Robbie?”

He hesitated, wondering how to answer her. He couldn’t help studying her, trying to remember how she’d felt in his arms the night they’d said good-bye. It had seemed to him then that her tall, shapely form was a perfect fit for him and that there would never be another who would feel quite so thrilling in his arms. But that hadn’t turned out to be true. He’d found another girl, of a very different size, who was even more thrilling. But Elinor was looking at him now, half coquettishly and half earnestly, waiting for an answer to her question, and he had no wish to give her an unkind one. “I’ve thought of you more often than you can imagine,” he said with perfect truth.

She smiled tremulously, pleased with his answer. “I used to think of you all the time. Until Paolo. He swept me quite off my feet, as they say.”

“You’re happy, then. I’m glad for you, Elinor.”

“Thank you, Robbie. I’m glad, too. Everything has turned out well after all, although for a while I didn’t believe that it would. After all, we’d loved each other for so long.”

“Yes,” he said, wondering how she would feel if he admitted that matters were turning out well for
him, too.

“By the way,” Elinor continued excitedly, “did Eunice tell you that Paolo and I shall live in Florence in the winters? I think I shall like that. It’s so lovely there. But we plan, every year, to be in London for the season. Shall you be glad to see me, if we meet sometime this way?”

“Of course,” he said politely, suddenly wishing for this stilted conversation to end. Elinor had become too self-absorbed to be interesting, he realized with surprise. She’d twice queried him about his feelings for her, to make certain she still held a string on his heart, but she’d not asked once about his wife or if he was happy. Now that their feelings for each other had died, they had little else to say to each other. Elinor now seemed a distant acquaintance, someone with whom conversation was a strain. He was glad when her mother emerged from the stationer’s, forcing Elinor to whisper a hurried good-bye and bustle off.

By evening he’d already forgotten the encounter. He had other things on his mind. He’d calculated that Chivers would have returned to his home by six and would certainly have told Cassie about his conversation with her odious husband by seven. It was now eight, and Robert was sitting at the dinner table with his mother, Gavin, Eunice and Sandy. He was waiting tensely for Cassie to come bursting in on them, wondering if he’d miscalculated her reactions. She might be too shy, even now, to take the action he hoped she’d take.

But just as the possibility that she would not come was becoming a real fear, the dining room doors were thrown open and Cassie, heedless of the butler who came scurrying up behind her, stalked over to Robert and slapped his face.

One of the footmen dropped the roast. Eunice gasped. The dowager Lady Kittridge screamed. Gavin exclaimed, “I
say
” And Sandy cried out, “Cassie! What on earth—?”

Robert, grinning broadly while holding his tingling cheek, got to his feet. “Good evening, my dear. What has impelled the shy Lady Kittridge to break in on us and create such a dreadful scene?”

“You know very well, you … you blackguard!” she said, coloring to her ears but going on with her prepared accusation anyway. “How dared you tell Papa that you … that I … that we … ?”

“That we
what
?” he taunted.

“That we consummated the marriage!” she finished, her fury making her daring.

“My dear young woman,” the older Lady Kittridge reprimanded, “how can you speak of such things now? We are at
dinner
!”

“Your son,” the enraged Cassie snapped, wheeling on her mother-in-law, “is a blasted
liar
!”

“Who,
me
?” Gavin asked, bewildered.

“No, you nodcock,” Robert corrected. “Me.”

“He is not!” Eunice declared loyally. “You know how much I adore you, Cassie, but I won’t have you calling Robbie names.”

“He’s never lied to me,” his mother said with finality.

“Good God!” Sandy said, his belief in Cassie’s sincerity causing him to eye his friend with suspicion. “You wouldn’t lie about a thing like that, would you, Robbie?”

Robert laughed aloud. “Yes, I would. I did. And I will again.”

Everyone stared at him. Cassie was completely taken aback. “You admit it?” she asked in disbelief.

“Yes,” Robert said, taking her hand and grinning down at her, “I admit it openly. Before all these witnesses. But I will not admit it outside this room. I intend to keep on lying … to your father, to his solicitors and to anyone else who tries to nullify our marriage.”

“Robert!” Cassie gasped, wrenching her hand from his grasp. “
Why
?”

“
Why
? How can you ask? I love you! I shall declare to my dying day that we are well and truly
wed, in the sight of God and all this company. So you may as well give up, my love, and come home.”

“I will n-not come home!” Cassie declared, bursting into angry tears. “I will never g-go home with a man who l-lies about such things. You d-don’t love me! I don’t know why you’re saying that you do, but you don’t.”

“But he
does
,” Eunice cried. “He
told
me. Why won’t you believe him?”

“How can you say that, Eunice,” Cassie asked, dashing the tears from her cheeks, “when you know as well as anyone that it isn’t true?”

“But—” Eunice began.

“Confound it, Cassie,” Robert said, grasping her shoulders in desperation as his confidence in his ability to sweep her off her feet rapidly dissipated, “can’t you unmake your stubborn mind for once and
listen
to me? I love you!”

“You needn’t pretend any more,” Cassie said, pushing him away. “Papa will not renege on his business agreement with you, so you don’t need me. Your money is safe.”

Robert’s face whitened. “This has nothing to
do
with the blasted money!”

“Hasn’t it?” Cassie turned and faced him, erect and defiant in spite of her trembling lips and tear-streaked cheeks. “I heard you speak the t-truth to me that last night in Lincolnshire. You said I d-disgust you.”

“Cassie!” He stared at her in agony. “I never meant it. I was crazy with anger and confusion. You can’t believe that I—!”

She held up her hand. “No more, please, Robert! I can’t b-bear it. Let us go our separate ways. It will be better so.” And she went quickly out the door.

“
Cassie
!” Eunice ran forward as if to catch her. “Wait!”

“Let her go,” Robert said in despair, sinking down on his chair and dropping his head in his hands. “It’s no use. I married her for her money. As long as that damnable forty thousand pounds stands between us, she’ll never believe me. Never.”

Chapter Thirty-Six

Robert disappeared from the house in Portman Square for several days, and when he returned he had a long conference with Sandy. Then, the next morning, he called his family together in the sitting room. “I have some things of importance to announce,” he said quietly. “They may not be pleasing to you, but there will be no argument. All the decisions I’ve made have already been implemented, and they are final. I’ve decided, you see, that I cannot keep the forty thousand pounds that Mr. Chivers gave me. So I’ve made some difficult financial decisions that will enable me to return the money to him. First, I’ve sold the Suffolk properties. Since I’d already paid off the debts on them, I realized a goodly sum. Second, I sold this house to Sandy. Hush, Mama, there is no need for you to fall into hysterics. He and Eunice will be happy to have you remain in residence here with them for as long as you wish, provided, of course, that you don’t let your penchant for reckless expenditure get out of hand. Sandy is generous, but he’s not a mogul. If you become extravagant, I’ve instructed him to ship you out to me in Lincolnshire where, you can be sure, the opportunities for extravagance are extremely limited. You, Gavin, since you obviously have no love for school, will come to live in Lincolnshire with me. There is no point in protesting, for my mind is made up. We cannot expect Sandy to take charge of you when he has Eunice’s two girls to raise, to say nothing of whatever offspring he and Eunice may have in the future. Besides, I intend to set you to work learning farming and estate management. With your instinct for horseflesh and love of animals, I think country life may suit you better than you think. For the rest, I’ve been given a generous loan by the Duke of Bedford, who is interested in my plans for my herds. This will enable me to keep Highlands, at least as long as I can make it a paying enterprise. Since that won’t be easy, and I will be hard pressed for years to pay him back, I am counting on your help, your encouragement, and your good wishes.”

* * *

At the same time that Robert was making this announcement to his family, Chivers was making an unaccustomed trip home from his office in midmorning to bring some bewildering news to his daughter. “I don’t know what to make of it,” he said to Cassie, perching on the sitting room sofa and drawing her down beside him, “but Kittridge came to see me early today and returned all the money.”

Cassie paled. “
Returned
it? How could he?”

“I’m not certain of all the details. For one thing, ’e sold the town ’ouse to Sir Philip Sanford, ’is brother-in-law-to-be. And, for another, ’e sold the Suffolk properties.”