Marigold Chain (16 page)

The older man’s
smile retained its kindly unconcern as he kissed Chloë’s hand and
asked if it were her first visit to Court.

‘
Indeed,
it is. She is a country girl – a rose freshly-plucked.’ Alex smiled
beneficently at Sarah and, as she opened her mouth to speak,
addressed himself once more to Sir Graham. ‘I daresay you would
recall my wife’s step-father – Ralph Ashton?’

‘
Yes,
indeed. Her mother also,’ nodded Sir Graham. ‘She was very
charming.’

Sarah looked
avidly at Chloë. ‘Your marriage was such a surprise – we are all
quite curious. Did Alex woo you with poetry and sweep you off your
feet?’

‘
Not
quite,’ said Chloë, finally managing to get a word in. ‘He took
care of the poetry and I did the rest.’

‘
Oh. How
… original.’ The cornflower gaze widened, drifted briefly to Alex
and then back again. ‘One hears such stories … of card games, for
instance.’

‘
Rumours
always lie. It was dice, actually … followed by a midnight wedding.
Chloë, you see, was so eager that she didn’t even wait to ask if I
could support her. Impractical … but winsome, don’t you
think?’

Chloë thought
that it was time someone gave Mr Deveril a dose of his own
medicine. She looked into his eyes and with a languishing sigh,
said, ‘But it isn’t always possible to be practical. You were so
strong and romantic and ardent. And so very, very dr—‘

‘
Determined,’ supplied Alex with faultless timing. His
apparently affectionate arm gripped her waist like a steel band.
‘And you were unable to resist me. There’s no need to be
coy.’

Lady Sarah
smiled maliciously.

‘
Indeed,
no. I assure you that I understand perfectly – and am all
admiration for your fortitude. The singularity of your position
must be most trying. One can only hope,’ she finished sweetly,
‘that Alex has not proved a disappointment.’

Chloë was
getting tired of her ladyship’s little innuendos. Opening her eyes
very wide, she said, ‘Goodness me, no! How could he?’ And felt the
arm around her quiver as if Mr Deveril, damn him, was trying not to
laugh.

‘
How
indeed?’ replied Sarah, as though she could have named a few
things. And then, smiling full into Alex’s eyes, ‘And how fortunate
you are, my friend, in acquiring so devoted and … innocent a
wife.’

‘
Am I
not?’ came the bland response. ‘Undoubtedly a pearl amongst women.
And talking of pearls – I’ve been admiring yours. A wedding gift,
perhaps?’

Sarah flushed
and her fingers stole to her throat.

‘
No – or
not from me,’ said Sir Graham. ‘But perhaps from your first
husband, my dear…?’ He looked at her fondly.

‘
Yes.’ It
was said with a sort of curt defiance. ‘David gave them to
me.’

A slow smile
lit Mr Deveril’s face. ‘Yes? He obviously had excellent taste. I
doubt if even Lady Gresham has anything finer.’

One glance at
her ladyship’s face was enough to inform Chloë that this seemingly
harmless observation was more in the nature of a Parthian shot.
Fortunately, however, Sir Graham plainly understood it no more than
she did herself. He took his wife’s hand and prepared to move on
saying, ‘I think you almost as fortunate as I am myself, Deveril –
and I hope you will be as happy.’

‘
Or
even,’ said Sarah, with a glittering glance between her lashes,
‘
half
as happy.’

From the edge
of the room, Mr Fawsley watched them and then made his way across
to Chloë and Alex. They did not appear to notice him. Alex’s eyes
were cool as glass and Chloë’s held a furious glint as she said,
‘If you ever do that again, don’t count on my support. Sir Graham
is a nice man who’s done you no harm – and, with a wife like that,
he doesn’t need extra troubles of your making.’

‘
I knew
it,’ said Alex. ‘You want to take him home and brew him a
posset.’

‘
Stop
trying to turn the tables,’ snapped his wife. ‘Since you plainly
know where she got those pearls, it was presumably from
you.’

Too shocked to
keep his mouth shut, Danny said, ‘God, Alex – you didn’t, did you?
I thought you had more sense!’

Irritation
flared in the light eyes and Mr Deveril said blightingly, ‘Firstly,
Daniel, it’s no business of yours. And secondly, I’d be grateful if
you would both stop jumping to conclusions.’

Chloë swallowed
and said, ‘Oh. Well … even if it wasn’t you, you were still wrong
to bring it up just then. And in future don’t use me to score
points.’

‘
I wasn’t
aware that I had. But tell me … how may I ‘use’ you?’ The dark
brows lifted slowly. ‘There must be something that isn’t prey to
that tediously restricting moral code of yours – else why did I
marry you? And why – more interesting still – did you marry me? I’m
sure you have a useful, practical reason that I haven’t been
privileged to hear yet.’

He waited, the
bright gaze resting scathingly on her face. Chloë stared back
unflinchingly but said nothing. Alex laughed.

‘
My
point, I think.’ He turned to go, then stopped. ‘And you needn’t
concern yourself over Sir Graham. When a gentleman marries a whore
he expects these little inconveniences. And, though I’ve plenty of
faults, hypocrisy isn’t one of them.’ And he walked
away.

Uncomfortably
and in silence, Danny offered Chloë his arm. Then, clearing his
throat, ‘Chloë, you know – he doesn’t mean half of what he
says.’

She turned her
head, her eyes focussing slowly on his face.

‘
No. And
he doesn’t say half of what he means.’

Only partly
understanding, Danny felt a sudden spurt of anger.

‘
Perhaps
not. But it’s no excuse for what he said about your marriage. I was
there and if anyone was at fault, it was Alex. He’s got no right to
blame you.’

Chloë smiled
and shook her head.

‘
That
isn’t what he was doing. But if he had, it would have been true. He
was drunk – I wasn’t. As it is, he was saying something quite
different and he may be right about that as well. That’s the
trouble.’

Feeling
distinctly out of his depth, Danny tried to think of something to
say and failed. Fortunately, he was spared the need. The room fell
silent as the royal party came in.

Like the Red
Sea before Moses, people fell back leaving a passageway down the
centre of the chamber and, hastily copying those around her, Chloë
spread her skirts in a deep curtsy. It seemed to last a long time.
Her muscles tensed with strain and began to ache and the sight of
the tiled floor, which was all she could see, became monotonous.
Cautiously, she raised her head. After all, if the King could
invite her out of curiosity, surely she was entitled to a little of
her own. So she looked up and, between the shoulders of the lady
and gentleman directly in front of her, saw the unmistakable figure
of Charles Stuart.

She remembered
him more clearly than she had expected - though, of course, no man
she had ever seen was quite so tall. And he had really changed very
little save in his dress, which was naturally finer than that of
the beggar-King he had been six years ago in Paris. Chloë watched
him critically and did not immediately observe that the dark,
heavy-lidded eyes had turned in her direction and were dwelling on
her with lurking amusement. When she did observe it, she was too
surprised to react properly and before she realised it, had
grinned, blushed and suddenly seen what it was about him that was
considered so attractive.

Then the talk
broke out afresh and, helping her to rise, Danny said ruefully, ‘Oh
hell. Look who Alex is with now!’

Chloë looked
and perceived a slightly-built gentleman of moderate height whose
wig and apparel represented the zenith of fashion. His shoes were
high-heeled and beribboned, his breeches edged with lace and his
braided coat a wonderful confection of yellow shag-silk. Chloë
stifled a grin and raised tolerant eyes to his face. Fine-boned and
set with grey-blue eyes, it was not unpleasing save for its faint
effeminacy and expression of languid boredom. There was also, she
thought, something vaguely familiar about it.

‘
Who is
he?’ she asked.

‘
That,’
came the ominous reply, ‘is Simon Deveril – Alex’s cousin. And they
hate each other’s guts.’

‘
Oh.’
Chloë felt rather cheated. Matthew had prepared her for a species
of villain but, beside Alex, this exquisite gentleman was no more
than an over-dressed mammet. ‘I’m disappointed. What do you suppose
they’re talking about?’

‘
I’d
rather not know,’ said Danny. ‘Look – there’s Lady Julia.’ And,
having steered her purposefully over to her ladyship’ side, he made
good his escape.

Resplendent in
cherry taffeta, Julia eyed Chloë with approval.

‘
Very
nice. Rather stylish, in fact.’ She examined the marigold chain.
‘That’s pretty. From Alex?’ And, when Chlo
ë
nodded, ‘Good. Does he approve of your new
sophistication?’

‘
It’s a
little hard to tell. I think so.’

Julia sighed.
‘Tiresome, isn’t he? And annoying, since he knows very well he
should stay at your side tonight and not go trying to provoke
Cousin Simon. Oh yes – I saw him – and whatever he was up to, it
had nothing to do with family affection or even common civility. It
never does. But never mind.’ She smiled and gestured with her fan.
‘I’ll present you to Barbara Castlemaine.’

‘
Over my
dead body, Julia,’ stated Mr Deveril crisply from behind
them.

Startled,
her ladyship turned swiftly, saying, ‘For heaven’s sake – lower
your voice. She’s the King’s mistress! Haven’t you
any
tact?’

‘
Not
much,’ replied Alex carelessly. He laid Chloë’s hand on his arm.
‘You’ll have to be content with meeting his Majesty. His influence
may be a thought less blatant but his manners are infinitely
better.’ And with a coolly dismissive smile for his sister, he led
Chloë away.

‘
Why,’
she asked mildly, ‘don’t you like Lady Castlemaine?’

‘
For a
number of reasons,’ came the unhelpful reply, ‘which will soon
become apparent, I imagine.’

Chloë glanced
at the flaunting redhead whose low-cut gown made her own appear
positively decorous.

‘
It’s
apparent already,’ she said cheerfully. ‘And I’d have thought she
was just your style.’ Which was how it came about that the first
time the King saw Mr Deveril with his bride, the blue eyes were
brimming with suppressed laughter.

Alex bowed and
presented Chloë in the correct manner. She sank into her best
curtsy and wondered if His Majesty intended to chide her for her
earlier lapse in etiquette.

She need not
have worried. Charles Stuart was a cynic and an inveterate
womaniser but he was also extremely good-natured. Taking her hands,
he raised her easily from the reverence and favoured her with his
lazy smile.

‘
We are
pleased to welcome you to Court, Mistress,’ he said in a voice
every bit as beautiful as Mr Deveril’s, though much deeper, ‘and
hope you are pleased to approve us.’

Looking up,
Chloë met the mischief in his eyes and found it impossible not to
respond.

‘
Thank
you, sire. But if Your Majesty is gracious enough to show approval
to one who, by birth, is half French, how could she fail to grant
hers to you?’

‘
My dear,
if all the French were like you, I believe we would not be at war.’
The King turned to Alex. ‘I see why you have been keeping her such
a secret and I sympathise – but I’m afraid it won’t do. We shall
expect to see her frequently at Court in the future.’

Mr Deveril
smiled. ‘A command, sire?’

‘
Not at
all,’ responded Charles promptly. ‘A mere request which you will be
pleased to grant since it comes from your sovereign. And now you
may remove yourself for a few minutes. Your lady wife will not miss
you – and neither shall I.’

‘
That’s
what I’m afraid of,’ said Alex resignedly. He bowed and left
them.

Chloë was left
looking up at her King. He offered his arm and said with uncanny
intuitiveness, ‘You did not wish to come. I wonder why? Something
to do with the ambivalence of your position, perhaps?’

She spread
expressive hands. ‘Something like that.’

He nodded.
‘Alex informs me that he is making enquiries into the possibility
of having your marriage annulled. I don’t imagine that he’s done so
without your knowledge and consent. Am I correct?’

‘
Perfectly correct, sire.’ Wondering if he was about to tell
her the thing was done, her insides lurched
unpleasantly.

‘
I see.’
The dark eyes examined her thoughtfully. ‘You realise it is quite
likely that the final decision may well rest with me? And that
being so, I have just one question I desire you to answer.’ The
harsh lines of his face dissolved into another magnetic smile. ‘I
need hardly say, I hope, that this entire conversation will remain
wholly confidential.’

Chloë eyed him
with hypnotic interest. ‘All of it?’

‘
All of
it,’ Charles assured her. ‘You may therefore speak quite freely.
Are you in any particular hurry to be set free?’

She thought for
a moment, debating how deliberate his choice of phrasing might be.
‘Why no, Your Majesty. I do not believe so. Is there some
difficulty?’