Fated Folly (13 page)

‘
Where is it you are based? Holland?'

‘
No, Hanover. I am attached to the Consulate in a secretarial capacity.'

‘
But he spends most of his time attending balls,' Ashendon put in, laughing, and accepting his own glass from Rupert.

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Then you must have been very much at home in Brighton. Are you returning there soon?' asked Clare, all outward innocence.

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For shame, Lady Wolverley,' said Ashendon, his tone a mockery of scolding. To her chagrin, he took a chair beside her, sipping his wine. ‘Do you rate your own attractions so low as to suppose that Christian will be able to tear himself away so easily?'

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He has not come to see me,' Clare returned, trying not to snap. Glancing across, she noted the stony expression on Christian's face.

‘
But how could it be otherwise? He has naturally been dying to make acquaintance with the young lady so supremely attractive that even a hardened fellow like Cousin Rupert has succumbed.'

Clare stared at him, scarcely able to believe her ears. Was she expected to participate in this charade? How dared he say such things? This was not for Christian's benefit. He quite obviously knew everything. As who did not? And Christian was so nearly concerned. But why did not Rupert speak?

At that very moment, he did, in a voice almost as silky as Ashendon's own. ‘How right you are, Ashendon.' He turned to Christian, adding with a smile, ‘Charming, is she not?'

‘
Very,' agreed his heir in a clipped tone, but raising his glass as if in a toast. But it did not entirely conceal the way his mouth turned down at the corners.

‘
Oh, this is too much!' Clare jumped up from her chair and turned on the author of this silly farce. ‘Lord Ashendon—'

‘
So formal?' he interrupted sweetly. ‘We are cousins now, Clare. I do think all this Mister Wolverley, and Lady Wolverley should cease, don't you, even between you and Christian?'

Clare stood smouldering and indignant, but before she could speak, a restraining hand came to her shoulder and she found Rupert beside her.

‘
Don't allow him to affect you,' he murmured.

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He does affect me!' she retorted unnecessarily.

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Clare, keep calm.'

‘
I cannot, Rupert. You should understand that.'

He took her by the shoulders, saying urgently, ‘This is what he wants, don't you see?'

She stared up at him, meeting his insistent gaze defiantly. Then she drew a breath and sighed. ‘It is too late now, isn't it? I am sorry, Rupert, but I can't play this game with him.'

He released her, something in his eyes that frightened her a little. She had disappointed him, let him down. Or was it something else?

‘
Is it a game, Clare?' he said, his tone low.

Then he turned from her and walked out of the parlour. Clare watched him go, desolate, and then whirled to confront Ashendon.

‘
Now look what you've done!'

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I, cousin? Far be it from me to interfere between man and wife.'

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Don't try to bamboozle me,' Clare raged. ‘I don't know what there is between you and my husband, but I will not be a pawn in the middle.'

‘
I don't know what you mean, Cousin Clare.'

She ignored him, turning to where Christian Wolverley had risen, looking quite aghast, as well he might.

‘
I would offer you my apologies, Mr Wolverley—' She broke off, and summoned a fleeting smile. ‘No, he was right about that, at least. It is quite absurd. We are cousins now and you are Rupert's heir—Christian.'

He bowed. ‘As you wish, Cousin Clare. And there is no need for apology.'

‘
No, I know there is not,' Clare said frankly, ‘because I have little doubt that your coming here is entirely Ashendon's doing, and that you know exactly how I come to be married to Rupert.'

Ashendon came between them, his smooth tongue readily at work.

‘
Christian, why don't you go and seek out Pippa? You must meet Justin. You will like him, I know.'

‘
Good idea.'

Clare watched the wretched creature beat a hasty retreat and turned to confront Ashendon, who raised his hands in a gesture of peace, a smile twisting his lips that appeared, on the surface, to be rueful.

‘
Don't glare at me. I confess it all. The temptation to needle Rupert by bringing his heir here was too strong to be denied.' He sighed. ‘You are far too shrewd, I fear, cousin.'

‘
I'd like to kill you, Ashendon!'

He laughed. ‘I am not surprised.' He moved back to his chair and gestured for her to sit also. ‘Pray do let us be calm.'

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If you mean to start on Rupert,' Clare said warningly, rather warily taking her seat.

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I promise I shall do no such thing. Really, it is high time we buried the hatchet.'

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Yes, it is,' Clare agreed, ‘but I don't believe for a moment that you mean it.'

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No, no, I am not talking of Cousin Rupert and myself,' Ashendon said ingenuously. ‘I meant you and I.'

Clare eyed him. Now what was he at? ‘I cannot be on terms with someone who is my husband's enemy.'

‘
Enemy? Good God, that is far too strong a term.' He leaned towards her, his tone apparently earnest. ‘We have our differences, he and I, but I have to confess a sneaking admiration for the way he has acted towards you.'

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You know nothing of the way he has acted towards me,' Clare objected.

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He married you, didn't he? I never dreamed he would, you know.'

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No, it was just another attempt to needle him.'

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Quite. But it was a chivalrous act, which, though I admit it galls me to say so, commands my respect.'

Clare eyed him, uncertainty warring with distrust. He sounded sincere, and that he did not try to pretend it did not go against the grain with him was in his favour. In spite of herself, she thawed a little.

‘
Well, that is generous, Ashendon.'

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Unintentionally,' he said, smiling. ‘I wish you might bring yourself to call me “Ash” as others do.'

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Why should I?'

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Well, no one ever calls me William, you know.'

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I mean, why should I call you anything informal,' Clare said impatiently.

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Because we are of the same generation and we are cousins, and I don't want to be at odds with you.'

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Only with Rupert.'

He smiled. ‘For your sake, I will even try to lessen that thorn.'

‘
Why should you, for my sake?' Clare demanded sceptically.

His expression changed to one of sympathy. ‘Because, Cousin Clare,' he said in a pitying way, ‘your lot must be hard enough to bear. Unless, of course, you can wean Cousin Rupert from his mistress.'

 

 

 

Chapter Five

 

Rupert could not understand it. The day of Christian's arrival, his young wife had been so incensed with Ashendon that she had refused to play the game that had become, insensibly, their dual armour against the gossips. Almost he had been provoked into giving himself away. She had looked at him so oddly when he asked her, “Is it a game?” Could that have created this barrier? This odd turnabout? Because for the last few days, Clare seemed positively to have encouraged the two young men to hang about the place, apparently preferring their company to his own.

He had not tried to discuss either this touchy matter with Clare, or that other one with his niece. They were all locked in one of those ridiculous situations where everyone knew that everyone else had knowledge that must cause friction, but nobody was speaking out.

It was time to end the deadlock. Having finally rid himself of the tenant who had come to complain of a leaking roof, he left his library—God knew he had been almost unable to concentrate!—and went in search of Clare.

Normally, he would have asked Berinthia to fetch his wife, rather than seek out the young people, for their lack of ease in his company made him feel his years, but Miss Flimwell was away for a few days visiting her sister in Reading. Enquiry of his butler elicited the information that all the company were walking in the grounds, enjoying the rare sunshine of this somewhat tepid English summer. The farmers were prophesying a hot August, but there was no sign of it yet, although it was but a week or so away.

In fact, however, the day was overwarm, and Rupert found his niece and her husband, together with Christian, lolling in the shade of a gazebo in the rose garden. He exchanged brief greetings. Necessarily brief, for it was never easy talking to Justin. The boy still stood in awe of him, and Christian had always done so. In fact, until Clare had come into his life, Rupert had been used to think of himself as appearing somewhat formidable to youngsters. Amazing how quickly it had begun to seem strange that anyone should treat him other than the way Clare did. Which was possibly why her present distance was unbearable.

‘
Have you seen Clare?' he asked.

‘
She's walking in the apple orchard,' Pippa responded, adding after a slight pause, ‘with Ash.'

Rupert's gaze turned on her, but he kept his voice expressionless. ‘Indeed? I'll go and find her there, then.'

As he walked in the direction of the orchard, which was set only a short distance behind the rose garden, he fought down the feelings that threatened to consume him. Small point in seeking her out, if he was going to allow himself to be provoked by her choice of company. Better to let her be and speak to her later.

But his booted feet moved purposefully onward, as if impelled by a will of their own, and determination entered his breast. He would have this out with her.

By the time he came upon the couple, however, strolling in apparent amity down a lane of apple trees, the emotions churning in his breast had coalesced into a single need: to see how Clare might look at him, and read in her face what troubled her. For she had been troubled. And he must be the cause. She could not meet his eyes, and she had been avoiding him.

He stopped as the couple caught sight of him coming towards them, and waited for them to come up, his eyes on Clare, who took one quick look at his face and steadfastly regarded the ground at her feet.

‘
It is a hot day for walking,' Rupert observed, perforce addressing himself to Ashendon.

The other smiled, reaching for his snuffbox. ‘Indeed it is, cousin. Clare was saying only a moment ago that we should return to the house.'

‘
Some lemonade,' Clare murmured, with a fleeting glance up, and then away, looking through the apple trees. ‘I ordered it before I came out.'

‘
A good idea,' Rupert commented, and then fell silent, his eyes on Clare's cheeks, their pallor emphasised by the fawn-coloured muslin of her round gown.

It was left to Ashendon to step into the breach. ‘You are no doubt surprised, cousin, at discovering your wife and myself so easy together.'

Rupert transferred his gaze from Clare's averted face to Ashendon's. The fellow's smug sneer was marked, and Rupert was in no way fooled by the friendly tone. What was the boy up to?

‘
It had struck me as odd, certainly,' he agreed, unable to keep the ice from his voice.

Ashendon's laugh was a parody of gaiety. ‘Clare and I have agreed to let bygones be bygones. And, true to my word to her, I am ready, Cousin Rupert, to call friends with you, too.'

From the corner of his eye Rupert saw Clare glance at Ashendon, her lips tightening. So she was not quite as amenable as Ashendon claimed. He remained curt.

‘
You are, are you?'

‘
After all, you will scarcely deny,' Ashendon went on in the smooth tone that set Rupert's teeth on edge, ‘that you have come out of this very well off indeed.'

Rupert's eyes went to Clare. ‘Have I?' Her gaze came up, and he held her glance, and saw her lips tremble. Deliberately, he smiled. ‘Of course I have.'

Clare flushed and looked away again.

‘
And Pippa and Justin,' pursued Ashendon, ‘despite your doubts, are perfectly happy.'

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True,' Rupert agreed, almost absently now, his attention fixed on his wife.

‘
In fact, it is only poor Christian, whose nose will be put out of joint in due course, who may be said to have lost by it.'

Rupert heard Clare's sharp intake of breath, and his jaw tightened as he looked back at Ashendon. ‘I suppose that is why you chose to rub the poor fellow's nose in it?'

‘
Good God, no, cousin. I merely thought he ought to come and see for himself. He is quite capable of drawing his own conclusions from the evidence of his own eyes.'

Contempt rode Rupert as he looked the fellow over. That he had brought Christian out of malice, he could not doubt. What he would be at was anybody's guess. But two could play this game.