Jo Beverley - [Malloren 02] (28 page)

"Do not give up hope quite yet! If you come to stay with me, you will meet many eligible gentlemen who will see the value of a connection to Trelyn. And you will be doing me a kindness." Suddenly, she was a gentle petitioner. "I am with child, you see, and Trelyn hovers over me so. The dear man speaks of finding me a companion, but how much better to have one like you."

Portia was congratulating her cousin on her fertility when Nerissa rang a silver bell by her hand, and a footman appeared. "Is my lord at home?"

"Yes, milady."

"Then ask if he would visit me."

Portia rose and smoothed her skirts. "Nerissa..."

Nerissa laughed, a rather throaty gurgle. "Oh do not fret so, my dear. Trelyn is your cousin by marriage. He will adore you as I do."

When Lord Trelyn entered, he showed no sign of adoring Portia, though the look he gave his wife came close. Did he always wear gray? He was dressed rather plainly today in gray cloth trimmed with silver. He suited his cool, classical house rather better than he suited this ornate room.

What a strange match this was.

"Trelyn," cooed Nerissa. "Dearest Portia has come to call."

Lord Trelyn took Portia's hand and raised it to within inches of his lips, as was proper.
"Enchanté.
But were we not to see you this evening, Cousin?"

Portia dropped a curtsy and looked to Nerissa for help.

"Poor Portia is in a plight, Trelyn. Her brother has been called suddenly out of Town. Would it not be delightful if she were to come and be my companion for a while? We could show her London."

Lord Trelyn waved Portia to her seat, and sat in a chair close by his wife. "I do not care to see you tire yourself at this time, my dear."

It was as good as a refusal and Portia was almost relieved.

Nerissa pouted and laid a plump hand on his gray sleeve. "It will not tire me to take Portia to a place or two, Trelyn, and I declare I am like to expire of tedium here alone. You are so engaged in government business, and you do not like me to go out with only servants in attendance. Please, dearest one."

The look Lord Trelyn gave Portia was not particularly friendly, and he followed it with an interrogation. Oh, he disguised it as conversation, but Portia felt as if both her family and herself were being turned inside out. He certainly was very protective of his wife.

She was forced to admit that Oliver's business had been the purchase of a commission, but managed to conceal all matters of debts.

"We must approve of those so keen to serve the king," said Lord Trelyn, though Portia suspected that he considered Oliver a rash fool.

He went on to question her association with Bryght Malloren. "You were seen to walk about the park on his arm, seemingly on terms of great familiarity, Cousin Portia."

"I did not know how to refuse, my lord," she confessed. "As for familiarity, he paid me some attentions. I made it clear, I hope, that I did not welcome them."

What a bare-faced liar she was becoming.

"He would be a match far beyond your expectations, Cousin."

Portia met his colorless eyes. "Precisely."

He nodded with a touch of approval. "You seem to be a sensible woman and of an age to be past foolishness."

Portia wished that were true.

Lord Trelyn turned to Nerissa. "Very well, my dear. If it would please you to have your cousin here to keep you company, I am willing to have it so. I still do not wish you to indulge in too many social affairs, but those we do attend, Cousin Portia may attend with us."

To Portia, it seemed a grudging agreement, but Nerissa smiled ecstatically and held up her hands. "Trelyn, you are the
dearest
of husbands!"

He took both hands and kissed them, and this time his lips did touch the skin. A suppressed passion in the gesture sent a shiver down Portia's spine. It was clear that Lord Trelyn adored his wife, and yet she would not care to be adored like that.

He was cool again when he turned to look over Portia. "If Cousin Portia is to share in our life, my dear, we must order her some new gowns."

"Oh, but I have enough clothes," Portia protested.

Lord Trelyn smiled coolly. "I doubt it. You must permit me this small indulgence, Cousin. You are to be Nerissa's companion, and we would want to repay you in some way."

So it would be a form of salary, would it? He was neatly putting her in the position of servant rather than family, and perhaps was anxious that Portia not disgrace him.

So be it.

Portia curtsied a gratified acceptance, and he left.

Nerissa immediately sent a command that her favorite mantua maker attend her. "Dear Trelyn to think of such a diversion. I adore clothes, but in my present condition there is little point to it. I tell you truly, this wifely business is quite tedious."

"When is the baby due, Nerissa?"

"In May. Can you imagine how huge I will be? Already I have no waist at all!" She discontentedly smoothed her gown at the front, though under the layers of silk Portia could see no bulge. "I do not like it," Nerissa said, almost to herself, but then shrugged. "But at least I can dress you." She considered Portia once more. "You are rather thin. You should eat more. Gentlemen prefer curves, my dear."

Your limbs are slender but strong, your body supple as willow.

The invasion of those traitorous memories loosed Portia's temper. "But a little while ago, Nerissa, you were claiming I would have gentlemen swooning at my feet."

It bounced off her cousin. "Oh, dearest, your thinness is not a
fatal
flaw. I am merely thinking that it will do no harm to use frilling at the bodice to disguise your flatness there. And we must certainly not expose your shoulders. We will let Madame Baudelle decide. She can perform miracles. As for your hair, it is perilously close to red, you know, and despite the many nostrums advertised, I have never found anything that takes away freckles...."

Portia sighed and let her cousin chatter. She did not understand Nerissa at all. To talk of Portia attracting swarms of men was ridiculous, but she had never felt a freak. Nerissa's artless comments were making her feel lacking in all departments.

She could only be grateful when Nerissa lost interest in critical evaluation and moved on to gossip. Her cousin wiled away the half hour before Madame Baudelle arrived with a monologue on Society. Portia found it boring, for she didn't know the people, but she listened carefully. After all, this was how she was to earn her keep, by listening to Nerissa prattle, and she would be wise to find out all about the world she was planning to enter.

She grew interested despite herself. She sensed that Mirabelle had been correct—the underpinnings of this round of pleasure was politics and power. Whigs and Tories, Crown and Parliament, City money and Society rank: all these power struggles were being played out in ballrooms and boudoirs.

"You mentioned Rothgar," Portia said at one point. "He is Lord Bryght's brother, is he not?"

Nerissa raised a brow. "I thought you had no interest in the man."

Portia damned her ready color. "I didn't say that. I have no desire to be entangled with him, but I think it wise to know one's enemies. Rothgar seems to have a great deal of influence."

Nerissa's face turned almost bitter. "The man has a lust for power and an uncanny way of getting it. He is dangerous."

"Yet you wanted me to play tricks on Lord Bryght."

"Bryght deserves to suffer for what he has done. It needn't involve Rothgar. He is out of town."

Portia had at last found a discussion that interested her, but at that moment the mantua maker arrived.

Madame Baudelle proved to be young and sharp-eyed. She was delighted at the thought of a profitable order of gowns, particularly at this dead part of the year. Soon she and her two assistants were fluttering around Portia, measuring and assessing. Drawings and fashion dolls were produced and considered, though Portia noted that madame consulted Nerissa far more than she consulted her.

An acute nose for where the true power lay.

Portia began to feel like one of the exquisite mannequin dolls herself, a mere frame for lovely fabrics.

"My cousin will require at least one gown quickly," said Nerissa.

With a somewhat sly look, Madame Baudelle produced a swatch of beautiful material, a cream silk embroidered with multicolored birds. "With this," she said, "a gown could be made quickly, for it would need little trimming."

Portia gasped at the beauty of the fabric. It must cost a fortune.

Nerissa was staring at the fabric greedily, and Portia was sure she would demand that it be made into a gown for herself, but then she suddenly relaxed. "Why not? How soon?"

"Three days, milady."

Nerissa nodded and waved her on her way.

Portia was unbalanced again, for to order such a gown was truly generous. She thanked Nerissa warmly. "I have never seen material half as fine. I'm afraid it will cost a great deal."

Nerissa shrugged. "It is just money. Money is nothing."

Portia was tempted to burst into hysterical giggles. She managed to control the urge. "For the immediate, I will have to make do with my old gowns. I must return to my rooms to collect my possessions."

Nerissa agreed, but insisted that Portia go in the Trelyn carriage with footmen to attend her. So Portia returned to Clerkenwell in state. Half the street came out to gawk at the grand equipage and liveried servants, and Mrs. Pinney almost had palpitations. Portia instructed the woman to keep the rooms in readiness and to tell Oliver, as soon as he returned, where his sister was.

That done, she quickly packed her boxes. Then, while the men were carrying them down, she retrieved the coins from behind the fireplace. They would provide some security and independence.

And what of the money Bryght Malloren had said he would put in a bank for her? She wanted that money, but she did not want to deal with Bryght to get it. She certainly couldn't ask Lord Trelyn's help, for then she would have to explain where it had come from.

When her box was carried out, Portia looked around the dismal rooms and sighed with relief. Dresden Street had contained little but worry and pain, but in well-guarded Trelyn House she would be safe. As she traveled back to the Trelyn mansion, however, seated on satin, and with an embroidered footstool for her feet, Portia was fretted by anxieties.

On the surface matters seemed excellent. She would be companion to Nerissa. She would listen to her chatter, share her needlework and other pastimes, and go with her to the quieter kind of social event. It would only be for a few days, anyway.

Oliver would soon return, a member of the King's Army. Fort would pay the odious Major Barclay. Portia would return to Dorset and her former life.

Everything was arranging itself at last.

So why was she sitting upright with her hands clasped, instead of lounging back, at ease?

And why, when the coach rolled into the railed courtyard in front of the Trelyn's house, and the great gilded gates clanged shut behind her, did Portia feel as if she were being delivered to a prison instead of to a place of refuge?

* * *

If it was a prison, it was a luxurious one. Portia was given a charming bedroom, though in typical cool shades, and a small boudoir. The rooms were scattered with valuable
objets d'artes,
and the handsome white-draped bed was decorated with knots and bandings of rich silver cord.

Two maids busied themselves in putting away Portia's clothes and other possessions.

Nerissa, dressed now in her usual public wear of elegant white, came to observe. "I hope you can bear these rooms, Cousin. I'm afraid the whole house is quite plain. I am trying to persuade Trelyn to indulge a little more in color, but thus far I have only been successful with my own rooms."

"It is very elegant."

Nerissa pouted. "But so dull."

Portia wanted to ask her cousin why she had married Lord Trelyn when they had so little in common, but it would be impertinent. Since the aristocracy seemed to marry for advantage, doubtless personal tastes did not enter into it.

"Now," said Nerissa, "if you are settled, we will go out. I am sure there are any number of items you need, and I have been pining for such a trip. A man is a tedious shopping companion."

"Lord Trelyn likes to accompany you to the shops?" Portia asked in surprise as she took her light cloak out of an armoire.

"The dear creature will hardly let me out of his sight! But he has agreed that we shall go today without his escort, for he must be at the House. Something very dull to do with the country's debt."

"Dear Lord. Is the whole country in debt?"

Nerissa laughed. "Oh, my dear, if you wish to discuss such matters, you must ask Trelyn. But I gather war is expensive. There is something called a sinking fund which sounds most alarming, though I am told it is a good thing. Now, are you ready? Why, what a pretty pelerine. It suits your hair and eyes quite marvelously."

Portia followed Nerissa down to the coach thinking wistfully that Oliver would have been pleased to hear that.