Parfit Knight (28 page)

She was on the
point of retiring to her room in the listless expectation of
passing another sleepless night when the pealing of the doorbell
and sounds of commotion in the hall brought a painful resurgence of
hope that tensed her nerves and stopped her breath. Then the door
was thrown open, she heard a flurry of taffeta and Isabel’s voice
sharply questioning; and bitter disappointment washed over her with
the savagery of a tidal wave. She bent her head, arms folded tight
over the actual physical pain inside her and tried to swallow the
sudden, choking sobs that crowded into her throat.

Isabel saw the
anguish in every line of that hunched figure but, already too
anxious to be touched by it, she cast aside her loo-mask and fan
and, oblivious of the danger to her ruffled ballgown, knelt swiftly
at Rosalind’s side.

‘Rose!’ she
said urgently, shaking the other girl’s arm. ‘This is important.
Where is
Philip?
’

Very slowly,
Rosalind lifted her head. ‘At White’s,’ she said dully. ‘Someone is
with you.’

‘Yes – Robert.
We were at the Anstey’s masked ball – and still are as far as Mama
is concerned,’ came the rapid reply. ‘But I had to know if it was
true so I made Bob bring me here. You needn’t mind him. Have you
spoken with Philip today?’

‘No.’ Rosalind
made an effort to concentrate. ‘If what is true?’

Isabel’s hands
fell away and she stood up.

‘That he is to
fight Amberley. Everyone is talking of it. They say he challenged
him last night. He’s said nothing to you?’

The pit of
Rosalind’s stomach fell away with a sickening lurch and for a
moment she felt too sick to reply. Then, in an odd voice, she said,
‘No. He went out this morning with Harry Caversham and hasn’t been
back since. We didn’t even take breakfast together.’ Then the
implications of this dawned on her and she drew a long ragged
breath. ‘Oh God, no – he couldn’t!’

Irritated by
the ease with which they ignored him, Robert strolled across to the
fire saying flippantly, ‘Well, it sounds to me as though he has.
Ansford said that Caversham was to be Phil’s second and, since
everyone knows of it, I daresay they wanted to get it over as
quickly as possible.’ He grinned at Broody dozing quietly on his
perch and added brightly, ‘Only think! Amberley may be dead by now
– and all because of a damned parrot!’

‘Be quiet,’
snapped Isabel, her usually gentle voice harsh with strain.

Gripping her
hands together, Rosalind continued to behave as though Robert did
not exist.

‘What does he
mean?’ she asked tensely. ‘They can’t have quarrelled about
Broody!’

‘They didn’t,’
replied Isabel briefly. ‘Or, at least, I don’t think so. I think
they quarrelled over you and, perhaps, a little because of
something foolish I said to Philip yesterday. But they couldn’t do
it openly so they had to have an excuse. Gentlemen,’ she finished
sardonically, ‘are very finicky about things like that. And, as
excuses go, this one is superb because everyone thinks it a huge
joke.’

‘Do they
indeed?’ Rosalind was extremely pale and her hands were by no means
steady but her voice had recovered its tone. ‘Well, I don’t. I
think it’s stupid and dangerous. Pull the bell.’

Startled,
Isabel did so. ‘What are you going to do?’

‘Find out
what’s going on,’ replied Rosalind curtly. And then, as the door
opened, ‘Porson?’

‘Yes, madam?’
The butler bowed.

‘I wish you to
send a message to White’s asking my brother to return here
immediately,’ she said crisply. ‘
Immediately
, you
understand?’

‘Yes, madam.’
Another bow and he was gone.

Isabel sank
weakly into a chair but before she could speak, Robert said
petulantly, ‘Well, if you think I’m going to hang around waiting
for Vernon to come back, you much mistake the matter. You can
either come with me now, Bella – or else get your precious Philip
to escort you. What’s it to be?’

‘I’m not going
until I’ve seen Philip,’ said his sister flatly. ‘And you can’t
return to the ball without me.’

‘You think
not?’ He gave a short laugh and walked towards the door. ‘Just
watch me.’

Rosalind waited
until she heard his hand on the latch and then said gently, ‘It’s
entirely your decision, of course – but if I were you, I think I’d
stay and guard my rear.’

He swung to
face her. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘It means,’ she
replied dulcetly, ‘that, if you leave, I probably won’t be able to
resist telling Isabel exactly what happened at Vauxhall.’

It was
checkmate and, for once, Robert had the sense to realise it. He
said sulkily, ‘Very well. Since you’re so eager for my company,
I’ll stay.’

Rosalind’s tone
lost every vestige of sweetness.

‘As far as I am
concerned, Mr Dacre, both you and your manners belong in the
nursery. You will stay in order to escort Isabel back to Anstey
House and for no other reason – and, if you have any intelligence
at all, you will sit down and refrain from furnishing us with
further examples of your spite, your rudeness and your immaturity.
I assure you that we know them only too well.’

Never, in all
his twenty years, had anyone spoken to Robert like that and,
furiously, he made the mistake of saying so.

‘That is a
great pity,’ retorted Rosalind coldly. ‘If they had done so sooner,
you might have stood some chance of becoming a man. As it is,
you’ll be hanging on to coat-tails and apron-strings all your life
because you haven’t the backbone to take responsibility for
yourself. Now sit down and be quiet. I’m tired of you.’

And, thoroughly
deflated, Robert sat without a word.

Rosalind turned
towards Isabel. ‘I think, while we are waiting for Philip, I’d like
you to tell me exactly what you’ve heard. All of it.’

Mistress Dacre
sighed, folded her hands and repeated the little she knew. Then she
said wretchedly, ‘And I am very much afraid that it’s partly my
fault. If one of them gets hurt, I’ll never forgive myself.’

‘What
did
you say to Philip?’ asked Rosalind. And then,
remembering Robert’s presence, ‘Or no. I imagine I’ve a shrewd idea
of the sort of thing – and I can’t say I blame you. It’s a pity
that you had to involve Lord Amberley – but I can understand that
the opportunity must have been hard to resist. Phil can be a
terrible fool at times.’

‘No.’ Isabel
smiled sadly. ‘He just wants a marriage of convenience. And, do you
know – as long as he is alright, I don’t think I mind.’

‘Rubbish!’
snapped Rosalind with irritable ambiguity. ‘And I don’t know why
you should worry about Philip – if he wasn’t alright he wouldn’t be
dining at White’s. If he has met Lord Amberley and – and any damage
has been done, then it clearly wasn’t to him.’

There was a
long pause and then Robert said casually, ‘Amberley is supposed to
be a crack shot – and quite a reasonable swordsman, too.’

‘Which is
presumably why you didn’t challenge him after he knocked you down,’
came the blighting response. And then, tilting her head, Rosalind
said, ‘At last. Now we shall know.’

Isabel listened
but it was several seconds before she heard sounds betokening Lord
Philip’s arrival; and then, almost immediately, he was in the
room.

He looked
different; tired was the first word that sprang to Isabel’s mind –
then older. But, realising that neither was quite right, she could
only think that he was subtly changed; and wonder why. His frowning
gaze scanned the room and then came to rest on her own face with a
sort of questioning intensity that made her heart turn over.

‘Are – are you
alright?’ she asked hesitantly.

His expression
altered and he gave a brief, harsh laugh.

‘Perfectly. Is
that why you sent for me with such urgency?’

‘No.’ It was
Rosalind who answered him. ‘That may be all Isabel cares for but it
wasn’t she who sent for you. And I imagine you can guess what it is
I
want to know.’

‘Yes. You’ve
found out that I fought Amberley and want to know whether I killed
him – and the answer, of course, is that I didn’t.’ He laughed
again and turned away to pour himself a glass of wine. ‘It seems
I’m not a good enough shot. So fear not, little sister – he’ll live
to fight another day. I only winged him.’

The blood
drummed unpleasantly in Rosalind’s ears and she clung to the arms
of her chair.

‘What do you
mean?’

Philip looked
defiantly back across the room.

‘I mean,’ he
said kindly, ‘that I put a bullet through his arm. Painful, messy
and visually dramatic – but no more than a flesh wound.’

Unable to
remain silent any longer, Robert said incredulously, ‘He never
missed you?’

Some of
Philip’s apparent bravado deserted him and he frowned into his
glass.

‘No. He
deloped.’

‘He what?’
asked Rosalind, recovering a little.

‘Fired in the
air. What else would he do?’ demanded his lordship bitterly. And
then, bowing mockingly to Isabel, ‘
He was a very perfect, gentle
knight
. You see, I’ve managed to place your quotation.’

Isabel flushed.
‘Why did you challenge him?’

‘Don’t you
know?’ For a moment the satirical blue gaze continued to taunt her
and then he ran a finger-nail noisily along the bars of Broody’s
cage, jerking the bird into wakefulness.

‘Wark!’
screamed Broody indignantly. He seized a seed and spat.

‘That’s why,’
smiled Philip brightly. ‘Don’t tell me you hadn’t heard. Gentlemen
in every club and coffee-house in London are laughing themselves
silly.’

‘You’re angry
with yourself,’ said Rosalind disconcertingly. ‘Why? Because you
didn’t kill Lord Amberley … or because you didn’t miss?’

There was a
long, uncomfortable pause which was eventually punctuated by, ‘Rot
the Captain! Sod the mate! Buggrit, buggrit, buggrit!’

Cursing under
his breath Philip, pulled off his cloak and tossed it over the
cage.

‘Shit,’ said a
muffled voice reproachfully.

Silence fell
and then Philip said flatly, ‘That bird has got to go.’

‘That’s not
possible now, is it? Thanks you to, Broody will probably start
receiving morning callers all of his own,’ remarked Rosalind with
asperity. Then, ‘Well, Philip? I asked you a question.’

‘All right.’
His lordship ran a distracted hand through his hair and then said,
‘If you must know, I feel quite unreasonably guilty and wish I
hadn’t done it. Never having been in this situation before, I don’t
know if that’s normal or not. But until this morning, I disliked
Amberley with completely satisfactory thoroughness – and thought I
knew why. Only then he knelt on the grass, bleeding like a pig and
made a stupid joke and everything seemed different. It’s absurd and
illogical - but I don’t think I understand anything any more. And
all because he could look at me and laugh.’

A tiny smile
lit the violet eyes.

‘Of course he
would
to that,’ said Rosalind. ‘I’m only surprised it’s
taken you so long to see it.’

‘Not so fast,’
replied her brother grimly. ‘I said it
seemed
different –
but it isn’t. It can’t be for nothing is fundamentally changed.
He’s still the man who is indirectly responsible for your blindness
and who has tried to hide it; the man who fleeces drunken youths at
dice and raises false hopes in the breast of any girl unwise enough
to let him charm her. And if you still doubt the last two, you have
only to ask Robert. Ask him, for example, about Mistress
Irwin.’

‘I wouldn’t ask
Robert for the time of day and expect a truthful answer,’ said
Rosalind astringently. ‘And if these were your only reasons for
challenging Lord Amberley, I think you made a big mistake.’

‘She’s right.’
Isabel came abruptly to her feet. Her face was very pale and her
hands were gripped so tight that her knuckles gleamed white. ‘You
have
made a mistake – and a much graver one than you
know.’

Philip’s mouth
twisted in a bitter smile.

‘My God – are
you in love with him as well?’

‘Not in the
least. And if you’ll listen, I’ll explain. You’ve been under a
misapprehension from the very beginning and the Marquis knows it.
He – ‘

‘Be quiet, damn
you!’ Robert erupted violently from his seat to seize her wrist.
‘You gave me your word.’

‘And you gave
me yours – but it wasn’t worth much, was it?’ She directed a
resolute brown gaze at his lordship. ‘You appear to think Lord
Amberley a hardened and destructive flirt. Did Robert tell you
so?’

Robert’s
fingers tightened like a vice on her arm. ‘
Bella
– ‘

‘Be quiet!’ she
snapped. And again to Philip, ‘Did he?’

His lordship
appeared faintly dazed. ‘Yes.’

Isabel looked
full into her brother’s smouldering eyes.

‘Take your
hands off me,’ she said in a tone of such flat contempt that he
took an involuntary step back. ‘You are despicable. You lie and
cheat and twist the facts to suit your own ends – and the only
reason you hate the Marquis is because you’re jealous. He is all
that you are not and so you hate him for it. I am ashamed of
you.’

‘It’s a lie!’
shouted Robert. He was as white as his shirt and shaking. ‘I’m
not
jealous – I’m not! And you don’t know what you are
saying, you bitch.’

‘Some time
ago,’ continued Isabel as steadily as if he hadn’t spoken, ‘you
persuaded me to give you a promise. I should never have done so and
I bitterly regret that I did. But when I gave it, I had no notion
just how far your mischief-making would go – that, because of you,
a man might have been killed. And now I’m going to tell the truth
before any more harm is done – and there’s nothing you can say to
stop me.’