Lady Sabrina’s Secret (10 page)

‘It costs me nothing at all to promise to hear you out, Mrs Marchant, for I know full well that you will never produce anything like proper evidence.'

‘You are wrong, sir,' she answered, but deep inside she feared he might be right. So much depended upon whether Sabrina could be persuaded to help, and so far it was
proving
impossible to get anywhere near her.

He spoke again. ‘By the way, it has come to my notice that you left your locket behind this morning. I will see that it is returned.'

‘Thank you.' Her tone was stiff.

‘Mrs Marchant, I really don't enjoy this, you know, but
your conduct has made it impossible for me to be more gracious.'

She halted then, disengaging her arms from his in the middle of the floor. ‘My lord duke, I assure you that I will not lose any sleep at all at the thought of your lack of
enjoyment
. And now, I rather think that we have nothing more to say to each other.' Inclining her head, she turned and walked away, threading her path through the circulating dancers. She was shaking inside, not only because she was being continually frustrated in her purpose, but also because she wished with all her heart that she and Rowan Sinclair were on the much more agreeable terms they had been the night before. But that had gone forever now, and he viewed her with suspicion and virtual dislike.

She caught a glimpse of Sabrina's sofa. Sir James had returned to her now and was seated with her, his
white-gloved
hand tenderly enclosing hers. It was a sight that was guaranteed to spur Deborah to greater effort. She wouldn't give in, not even now! She went back toward her own sofa, but it had been taken and so she lingered by the door for a moment, trying to think of what to do next. Suddenly she noticed a footman walk past with a folded note on a silver tray. He took the note to a gentleman nearby, giving it to him most discreetly. The gentleman opened the piece of paper after turning away to conceal its contents, then he nodded at the footman and followed him from the ballroom. Deborah's eyes lightened. Could a
similar
note be given to Sabrina?

With sudden resolve she hurried into the octagon, and then into the card room, where small pads of writing paper were kept for use at the tables. Taking one, she adjourned to a corner where one of the tables had just been vacated. A
pencil lay on the green baize, amid the cards and dice, and she thought for a moment before picking it up and
drawing
a recognizable likeness of the pocket watch. Then she carefully folded it and beckoned to a footman.

‘Would you take this to Lady Sabrina Sinclair, and tell her where she will find me? She is seated on one of the lowermost sofas directly opposite the entrance to the
ballroom
. Please be very discreet, for no one else must know.' She took a coin from her reticule and pressed it into his hand.

He gave a quick bow. ‘I will do as you ask, madam,' he said, and then he hurried away.

Minutes passed, and just as she was beginning to fear that this ploy had also failed, he returned.

‘Madam, her ladyship says that she has an appointment at two o'clock tomorrow with her dressmaker, Madam Beauclerc of Milsom Street, and that she will speak to you then if you wish.'

‘Thank you.' Asurge of triumph uplifted Deborah. It had worked! The thought of the watch with its telltale message had forced Sabrina's hand.

It was not long after this that the master of ceremonies
realized
that he had a very famous lady singer among his guests. Madame Theodora Callini, a large dowager of impressive dignity, had sung before all the courts of Europe, for the politics of war did not affect those as
musically
renowned as she, and her presence at the Upper Rooms, Bath, simply could not be allowed to pass unmarked. The master of ceremonies begged and pleaded, even going down on his knee to her, and at last she graciously consented to sing for the gathering.

Word traveled through the rooms like wildfire, and almost everyone adjourned to the ballroom, save those at various tables in the card room whose passion for the turn of a card or the roll of dice by far overwhelmed their
appreciation
for music. The ballroom thus became an even worse press than before as people jostled for the most
advantageous
positions beneath the orchestra's apse, where Madame Callini soon appeared. Her first choice of song could not have pleased her audience more, for at this time
of seemingly endless war with Napoleon's France ‘Rule Britannia' appealed to everyone's patriotic pride and fervor.

As the stirring notes rang out over a suddenly quiet room, Sabrina whispered to her brother that she was
finding
everything far too hot and stuffy, and that she very much wished to go home. The truth of it was that the ball itself had nothing to do with her decision, for she had simply happened to glance toward the doorway into the octagon and had briefly observed Deborah standing there. Seeing Richard's sister had driven home to her the delicacy of her position, and the danger of imminent scandal should her dalliance with him become common knowledge, and suddenly she wished to escape from such a public place and retreat to the safety of home.

Sir James was with them when she made her request of the duke, and he accompanied them from the ballroom to the main entrance of the rooms, where a footman was despatched to call their carriage to the door. Deborah had drawn discreetly out of sight behind a heavy velvet curtain beside the card room entrance as she saw them leaving the ballroom, and the absence of general noise and chatter enabled her to hear what Sabrina was saying as they passed.

‘Please don't start worrying about me again, Rowan, for it's simply that it's a little too hot and crowded here after all, but there is no reason whatsoever why I should not still accompany James to the military display tomorrow.

Sir James was anxious. ‘If you feel in any way unwell between now and then, you must promise me you will send for the doctor again.'

Sabrina gave a fleeting smile. ‘There is no need for that, I
assure you,' she said quickly. ‘I am truly looking forward to watching the display on Claverton Down tomorrow
morning
, and I will be ready at nine.'

‘But—'

The duke could not entirely disguise his irritation. ‘Have done with it, James. If Sabrina has had enough of tonight, then that is sufficient reason for me to escort her home. Besides, I cannot abide warbling contraltos who seem to become louder the longer they sing.'

Sabrina gave him a sly look. ‘And besides again, there is another lady whom you wish to see tonight, is there not?' she murmured, and then they all three passed on toward the main entrance and out of Deborah's hearing.

She remained in her hiding place as the duke's carriage pulled up outside, and he assisted Sabrina inside before climbing in after her. Sir James watched them drive away, and then turned back into the rooms, but as he did so he saw something which made him halt, his expression a mixture of surprise and anger. He seemed to be looking directly at Deborah's hiding place behind the curtain, and for a dreadful moment she thought he'd realized she was there, but then it became clear he was looking just to one side of her at the entrance of the card room, where
someone
she couldn't see was standing facing him.

He glanced around uneasily, and then came closer. ‘I didn't think you were well enough to attend tonight, madam,' he said, his tone outwardly one of polite concern, but his eyes revealing that he was suddenly very much on his guard.

‘I'm not well enough, but I must talk to you.'

It was Lady Ann Appleby! Deborah pressed back against the wall, trying to see both of them, but only Sir
James was in view.

He was pale and angry. ‘Talk to me? Are you mad? Why didn't you simply send a message, instead of coming to a place as public as this?'

‘I have had enough of it all, and am at the end of my tether. I will no longer do your bidding, and I mean to—'

‘Have you taken complete leave of your senses?' he breathed, glancing around again in case someone should suddenly lose interest in Madame Callini and leave the ballroom. He wasn't concerned about those in the card room, whose concentration upon their own business was absolute.

‘I cannot go on,' Lady Ann replied, her voice shaking with pent-up emotion. ‘You have forced me into all this, and I cannot bear the guilt a moment longer.'

‘You will do as I wish, madam!' he snapped, still
managing
to keep his voice low. ‘I will not discuss it now but will come to your house in an hour's time. I suggest you await me there. I also suggest that you would do well to bear Chippenham in mind.' This last was uttered with almost tangible menace.

Lady Ann gave a sharp intake of breath. ‘How did you find out?' she whispered.

‘It is of no consequence, madam, suffice it that I know where to find her.'

‘You wouldn't harm her!'

‘That is in your hands, Lady Ann. Just give it all a
suitable
amount of careful thought before you pronounce once and for all that you do not intend to support my wishes any longer. Go home now, and I will join you in an hour's time. I will come to the mews lane as usual.' Turning on his heel he walked swiftly away into the ballroom, where Madam 
Callini's rendition of ‘Rule Britannia' was coming to an end, and rapturous applause broke out.

Deborah stayed perfectly still, and after a moment she saw Lady Ann's tall figure hasten toward the main entrance, where she briefly instructed a footman to send for her carriage. Deborah peeped out from behind the curtain and saw how pale and agitated the woman was. She was dressed in a gleaming mauve silk gown with lace sleeves, and a tall white plume sprang from her hair. Everything about her suggested that she was screwed up to an absolute pitch of nerves and anxiety.

Deborah felt a reluctant sympathy for her, for at least she now knew why something about Lady Ann had not added up. Far from being an eager accomplice in the plot against Richard, Lady Ann Appleby was involved against her will.
You have forced me into all this, and I cannot bear the guilt a moment longer
. And of what significance was Chippenham in the scheme of things?

Lady Ann's carriage arrived at the entrance, and the footman brought her cloak and then assisted her out to the waiting vehicle, which a moment later pulled away. Deborah came out from her hiding place, her mind racing. In an hour's time Sir James Uppingham and his unwilling co-conspirator would be closeted together at the house in Great Pulteney Street. If nothing else, surely their
presence
together in the small hours of the night would raise questions in the minds of those who had hitherto accepted their word in the Richard Wexford affair? If Sir James and Lady Ann were not even social acquaintances, why on earth would he call upon her at such a time? And why would he arrive secretly by way of the mews lane, rather than go openly to the front? Maybe the wrong
conclusion would be reached by anyone faced with such facts, but at least it would become clear that things weren't quite as Sir James and Lady Ann had hitherto been pretending.

Deborah knew she had to do something. But what? Suddenly she thought of the duke and his promise to listen to her should she uncover any proper proof to support her side of the story. This clandestine middle-of-the-night meeting might not prove Richard's innocence, but it would certainly prove that Rowan Sinclair's future brother-in-law was up to something.

Hurrying to the entrance, she requested the footman to bring her cloak and then to summon a chair. Two minutes later she was being conveyed back toward Royal Crescent, but as the chair reached the Circus, she was just in time to see the duke's carriage driving out from the far side. He had taken Sabrina home, and was now on his way to see his mistress, just as his sister had slyly implied at the Upper Rooms.

Deborah tapped on the glass of the chair, and the men lowered it to the ground. She opened the front and looked out urgently. ‘Do you know Kate Hatherley's house in North Parade?' she asked.

The first man nodded. ‘Yes, ma'am, we do,' he replied.

‘Take me there, if you please.'

‘Yes, ma'am,' he said, exchanging a glance with his companion. Why would a fine lady such as this wish to call upon an actress? And at such an hour?

Deborah closed the front of the chair again and sat back as the men lifted it to convey her across the wide cobbled area in the center of the Circus, and then down into Gay Street, where the duke's carriage had already
vanished from sight.

North Parade was situated beyond the abbey on a slope overlooking the river toward Pulteney Bridge and the newer part of Bath. It was a wide area of pavings, bounded from the slope by a stone balustrade, and the land which swept down to the riverbank was an area of trees, grass, and paths. Bath's first assembly rooms were to be found here, known, naturally enough, as the Lower Rooms, and although still used, they were much smaller and less
fashionable
than the Upper Rooms. If the original assembly rooms were no longer quite the thing however, the same could not be said of North Parade itself, which was a
stylish
, sought-after address of elegant three-story town houses, the central one of which boasted a handsome
pediment
.

Kate Hatherley had taken one of the properties closest to the river, and the duke's carriage was still drawn up at the door as Deborah's chair was at last carried over the pavings after the half-mile long descent through the almost deserted town. The men lowered the chair to the ground, and Deborah stepped out, pausing to hand them a few coins, but as she glanced toward Kate's house, her nerve almost failed her. It was a very shocking thing to call upon a gentleman when he was engaged with his mistress, but was now the time to observe the niceties of every propriety? Sir James and Lady Ann were soon to meet, and the Duke of Gretton's pleasure was not to be permitted to come first. Nevertheless, perhaps it would be wise to take the precaution of requesting the chairmen to wait.

‘Please wait here, for I may require you again,' she said.

‘Ma'am.' Again they exchanged curious glances, for they
recognized the duke's carriage. What was all this about, they wondered? Leaning back against the chair, they folded their arms and stared after her as she made her way toward the door of the house.

The coachman's jaw dropped as he noticed her, and he turned on his seat to watch in amazement as she went boldly up to the door and knocked loudly. What was this? A
lady
calling at this hour?

At first there was no response to the knock, but just as Deborah raised her hand again, the door suddenly opened and a butler looked out inquiringly. He blinked a little on seeing her. ‘Madam?'

‘I wish to speak to the Duke of Gretton,' she said.

His eyes widened. ‘I, er, beg your pardon?'

‘I believe I spoke clearly enough. Please tell the duke that Mrs Marchant has called and wishes to speak to him urgently.'

At that moment Kate herself appeared at the head of the staircase at the far end of the hall. She was dressed in a frilly pink muslin wrap that outlined her curvaceous figure very clearly indeed, and her mane of chestnut curls was brushed loose about her shoulders. ‘What is it, Ladbury?' she inquired.

He cleared his throat uncomfortably and turned to look at the actress. ‘Madam, it's a Mrs Marchant. She says she wishes to speak to the duke.'

‘Marchant?' The way Kate repeated the name conveyed that she knew who the caller was.

A second figure appeared at the top of the staircase. It was the duke. He ran his hand through his gray hair,
looking
down at Deborah in astonishment. Then his
astonishment
turned to irritated disbelief. ‘Mrs Marchant?'

‘I wish to speak to you, sir.'

‘Do you, indeed? Might I point out that by coming here you have broken many an unwritten rule?'

‘The situation calls for it, sir.'

‘From which I take it that it concerns your brother?'

‘My lord, you gave me your word that if I should discover anything which would prove Sir James to be lying, then you would hear me out. I have found
something
out which in my opinion it is imperative that you know of without further delay.'

He came down the staircase, but Kate remained where she was. Her gaze hadn't left Deborah, whose face was revealed by the light of another candle mounted on the wall close to the door.

At the foot of the staircase, the duke halted. ‘Very well, Mrs Marchant, since you are sufficiently convinced of the importance of what you have to say, I will listen to you.'

Deborah stepped hesitantly into the entrance hall,
lowering
her hood as she did so. She was very conscious of Kate's intent gaze.

‘What have you discovered, Mrs Marchant?' the duke inquired, his blue eyes cool and unencouraging.

She glanced uneasily at Kate and at the butler, who still lingered by the door.

The duke drew a long breath. ‘Please tell me what you have come to say, madam,' he said a little testily.

‘Simply that in a short while Sir James Uppingham will call upon Lady Ann Appleby at her house, and that he will not arrive at the front door, but will go in from the mews lane.'