The Convenient Marriage (25 page)

The Viscount was at breakfast when his sister was announced, and looked up with a frown. ‘Lord, Horry, what the devil brings you at this hour? You shouldn’t have come; if Rule knows you’ve dashed off at daybreak it’s enough to make him suspect something’s amiss.’

Horatia thrust a trembling hand into her reticule and extracted a crumpled sheet of gilt-edged paper. ‘Th-that’s what brings me!’ she said. ‘Read it!’

The Viscount took the letter and smoothed it out. ‘Well, sit down, there’s a good girl. Have some breakfast… Here, what’s this?’

‘P-Pel, can it be L-Lethbridge?’ she asked.

The Viscount turned the letter over, as though seeking enlightenment on the back of it. ‘Dashed if I know!’ he said. ‘Looks to me like a trap.’

‘B-but why should it be? Do you think p-perhaps he is sorry?’

‘No, I don’t,’ said his lordship frankly. ‘I’d say at a guess that the fellow’s trying to get his hands on you. End of the Long Walk? Ay, I know that Temple. Devilish draughty it is, too. And it’s near one of the gates. Tell you what, Horry: I’ll lay you a pony he means to abduct you.’

Horatia clasped her hands. ‘But, P-Pel, I must go! I must try and g-get the brooch b-back!’

‘So you shall,’ said the Viscount briskly. ‘We’ll see some sport now!’ He gave back the letter and took a long drink of ale. ‘Now you listen to me, Horry!’ he ordered. ‘We’ll all go to Vauxhall to-night – you and I and Pom, and Edward too if he likes. At midnight you’ll go to that temple, and the rest of us will lie hid in the shrubbery there. We shall see who goes in, never fear. If it’s Lethbridge, we’ve got him. If it’s another – though, mind you, it looks to me like Lethbridge – you’ve only to give a squawk and we’ll hear you. We shall have that damned brooch by to-morrow, Horry!’

Horatia nodded. ‘Yes, that’s a very clever plan, P-Pel. And I’ll tell Rule that I am g-going with you, and he w-won’t mind that at all. D-didn’t Lethbridge c-come to town yesterday?’

The Viscount scowled. ‘Can’t have done. Edward and that fellow Hawkins and I stayed till past nine on that cursed Heath, and never saw a sign of him. You know we stopped Rule’s chaise?’

‘Yes, of c-course. Sir Roland told me and Rule did too.’

‘Gave me a devilish queer turn when I saw who it was,’ confessed the Viscount. ‘He’s quick, is Rule. Must own he’s quick, Horry. Recognized my mare the instant he clapped eyes on her.’

‘B-but he didn’t suspect, P-Pel? You’re sure he d-didn’t suspect?’ she cried anxiously.

‘Lord, no! How should he?’ said the Viscount. He glanced at the clock. ‘I’d best get hold of Pom, and as for you, you go home, Horry.’

Arrived once more in Grosvenor Square, Horatia discarded her hat and her gloves and went in search of Rule. She found him in the library, reading the Morning Chronicle. He rose at her entrance and held out his hand. ‘Well, my love? You’re up betimes.’

Horatia put her hand in his. ‘It was such a f-fine morning,’ she explained. ‘And I am to d-drive in the park with M-mama.’

‘I see,’ he said. He lifted her fingers to his lips. ‘Is not to-day the twenty-eighth, Horry?’

‘Yes. Yes, it is,’ she replied.

‘Then will you come with me to the ball at Almack’s rooms?’ suggested Rule.

Consternation spread over her face. ‘Oh – oh, how d-delightful that would be!’ she said. ‘Only I c-can’t! I’ve promised to go to Vauxhall with P-Pel.’

‘I have always found,’ remarked his lordship pensively, ‘that most of one’s engagements were only made to be broken.’

‘I can’t break this one,’ Horatia said with real regret.

‘Is it so important? You will make me jealous, Horry of Pelham.’

‘It’s very, very important!’ she said earnestly. ‘That is to say, I m-mean – Well, P-Pel wants me to be there particularly, you see!’

The Earl was playing with her fingers. ‘Do you think Pel would permit me to make one of this expedition?’ he said.

‘Oh, no, I am quite sure he w-wouldn’t like that at all!’ said Horatia, appalled. ‘At least – I d-don’t mean that, of course, but – but he is to present some people to me, and they are strangers, you see, and I daresay you would not c-care for them.’

‘But I have a reputation for being the most friendly of mortals,’ said the Earl plaintively. He let go her hand and turned to arrange his cravat in the mirror. ‘Don’t distress yourself on my account, my dear. If I don’t care for these strangers I promise I will dissemble.’

Horatia gazed at him in complete dismay. ‘I d-don’t think you would enjoy it, M-Marcus. Really, I do not.’

He bowed slightly. ‘At your side, Horry, I could enjoy anything,’ he said. ‘And now, my dear, if you will excuse me, I will go and attend to all the affairs which my poor Arnold wants me to deal with.’

Horatia watched him go out of the room, and straightway sat herself down at the desk in the window and scribbled a frantic note to her brother.

This missive, brought by hand, reached the Viscount’s lodging just as he came back to it from his visit to Sir Roland. He read it, swore under his breath, and dashed off an answer.

‘The devil fly away with Rule,’ he wrote. ‘I’ll set Pom on to draw him off.’

When this brief note was delivered to her Horatia read it rather doubtfully. Her experience of Sir Roland’s tact was not such as to lead her to place very much reliance on his handling of an awkward situation. However, she herself had said all she dared to dissuade Rule from accompanying her to Vauxhall, and Sir Roland could hardly be less successful.

The Earl was still closeted with Mr Gisborne when a lackey came in to announce that Sir Roland Pommeroy desired to speak with him. He looked up from the paper he was about to sign, and Mr Gisborne, who happened to be watching him, was surprised to see a gleam of amusement in his eyes. The information that Sir Roland had called did not seem to warrant that particular gleam. ‘Very well,’ said his lordship. ‘Tell Sir Roland that I will be with him immediately… Alas, Arnold, something always interrupts us, does it not? I am quite desolated, believe me, but I shall have to go.’

‘Desolated, sir?’ said Mr Gisborne, cocking an eyebrow. ‘If you will permit me to say so, I thought that you looked rather pleased.’

‘But that was not because the interruption drags me from your side, my dear boy,’ said his lordship, putting down his quill and rising. ‘I am enjoying myself this morning.’

Mr Gisborne wondered why.

Sir Roland Pommeroy had been shown into one of the saloons, and was standing by the window when the Earl came in. From the movement of his lips it might have been supposed that he was silently rehearsing a speech.

‘Good morning, Pommeroy,’ said the Earl, closing the door. ‘This is an unexpected pleasure.’

Sir Roland turned and came forward. ‘’Morning, Rule, Beautiful day! Trust you reached home safely yesterday? Extremely distressed I should have mistaken your chaise for – er – for the other one.’

‘Not at all,’ replied his lordship with great civility. ‘There was not the slightest need for you to put yourself to the trouble of calling, my dear fellow.’

Sir Roland tugged at his cravat. ‘To tell you the truth – didn’t come on that score,’ he confessed. ‘Felt sure you would understand how it was.’

‘Quite right,’ said the Earl, opening his snuff-box. ‘I did understand.’

Sir Roland helped himself to a pinch and sniffed it up one nostril. ‘Very good blend. I always have my own put up by my man in the Haymarket. Always use the same, you know. Plain Spanish.’

‘Ah, indeed?’ said the Earl. ‘This is blended for me by Jacobs, in the Strand.’

Sir Roland perceived that he was being led into a discussion that had nothing whatsoever to do with his mission, and firmly abandoned it. ‘Reason I called,’ he said, ‘was quite different. Hoping very much you will join a little card-party – my house – this evening.’

‘Why, this is very kind of you,’ said Rule, with the faintest inflexion of surprise in his pleasant voice.

This was not lost on Sir Roland, who, thrust out by the Viscount to ‘draw off’ his lordship, had protested feebly: ‘Deuce take it, Pel, I hardly know the man! Years older than I am! Can’t ask him to my house like that!’ He sought once more to loosen his cravat, and said: ‘Aware – devilish short notice – trust you’ll forgive – very difficult to find a fourth. Last moment, you understand. Game of whisk.’

‘Nothing,’ said the Earl, ‘would please me more than to be able to oblige you, my dear Pommeroy. Unfortunately, however –’

Sir Roland threw up his hand. ‘Now don’t say you cannot come! Pray do not! Can’t play whisk with only three people, my lord. Most awkward situation!’

‘I am sure it must be,’ agreed his lordship sympathetically. ‘And I expect you have tried everyone else.’

‘Oh, everyone!’ said Sir Roland. ‘Can’t find a fourth at all. Do beg of your lordship not to fail me!’

‘I am extremely sorry,’ said the Earl, shaking his head. ‘But I fear I must decline your – er – very flattering invitation. You see, I have promised to join a party at Vauxhall Gardens with my wife.’

‘Feel sure her ladyship would excuse you – almost bound to rain – very dull evening!’ said Sir Roland feverishly. ‘Apprehend it is Pel’s party – not your taste at all, sir. Very queer people, Pel’s friends. Wouldn’t like them, I assure you.’

The Earl’s lips twitched. ‘You quite decide me, my dear Pommeroy. If they are like that I think I would rather be at her ladyship’s side.’

‘Oh, they are not!’ said Sir Roland hastily. ‘Oh, dear me, no, nothing of that sort! Very respectable people, but dull, you know – a set of company you would not like. Much better play whisk at my house.’

‘Do you really think so?’ The Earl appeared to meditate. ‘I am, of course, very fond of whisk.’

Sir Roland breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Knew I could count on you! Beg you will dine first – five o’clock.’

‘Who are your other guests?’ inquired his lordship.

‘Well, to tell you the truth – not quite sure yet,’ said Sir Roland confidentially. ‘Bound to find someone glad of a game. Have it all fixed by five o’clock.’

‘You tempt me very much,’ said the Earl. ‘And yet – no, I fear I must not yield. Some other evening, perhaps. You’ll take a glass of madeira with me before you go?’

The crestfallen Sir Roland shook his head. ‘Thank you, no – must get back to – that is to say, must get to Boodle’s. Might find a fourth there, you understand. No chance of persuading your lordship?’

‘I regret infinitely, but none,’ Rule answered. ‘I must – I positively must accompany my wife.’

Sir Roland went sadly back to Pall Mall, where he found the Viscount kicking his heels impatiently. ‘No good, Pel,’ he said. ‘Did what I could – no moving him.’

‘The devil fly away with the fellow!’ said the Viscount wrathfully. ‘What in thunder ails him? Here we have the whole affair planned out as snug as you please, and he must needs ruin all by taking it into his head to join my party! Damme, I won’t have him in my party!’

Sir Roland rubbed his chin thoughtfully with the knob of his cane. ‘Trouble is, Pel, you haven’t got a party,’ he said.

The Viscount, who had cast himself into a chair, said irritably: ‘What the hell does that matter?’

‘Does matter,’ insisted Sir Roland. ‘Here’s Rule joining you to-night, and I told him he wouldn’t like the party – said they were queer people – hoping to put him off, you know – and if you don’t arrange a party – well, you see what I mean, Pel?’

‘Well, if that don’t beat all!’ said the Viscount indignantly. ‘It ain’t enough for me to waste the whole day planning this damned affair, I have to get a party together as well just to fall in with your silly tale! Burn it we don’t want a party! Where am I to find a lot of queer people? Tell me that!’

‘Meant it for the best, Pel,’ said Sir Roland placatingly. ‘Meant it for the best! Must be any number of queer people in town – know there are – Club’s full of them.’

‘But they ain’t friends of mine!’ replied the Viscount. ‘You can’t go round the club asking a lot of queer-looking strangers to come to Vauxhall with you. Besides, what should we do with them when we got ’em there?’

‘Give them supper,’ said Sir Roland. ‘While they have supper we slip off – get the brooch – come back – ten to one no one notices.’

‘Well, I won’t do it!’ said the Viscount flatly. ‘We’ll have to think of some way to keep Rule off.’

Ten minutes later Captain Heron walked in to find both gentlemen plunged in profound thought, the Viscount propping his chin in his hands, Sir Roland sucking the head of his cane. Captain Heron looked from one to the other, and said: ‘I came to see what you mean to do next. You’ve heard nothing of Lethbridge, I suppose?’

The Viscount lifted his head. ‘By God, I have it!’ he exclaimed. ‘You shall draw Rule off!’

‘I shall do what?’ asked Captain Heron, startled.

‘I don’t see how,’ objected Sir Roland.

‘Lord, Pom, nothing easier! Private affairs to discuss. Rule can’t refuse.’

Captain Heron laid his hat and gloves down on the table. ‘Pelham, do you mind explaining? Why has Rule to be drawn off?’

‘Why, because of – oh, you don’t know, do you? You see, Horry’s had a letter from someone offering to give her back the brooch if she’ll meet him in the temple at the end of the Long Walk at Vauxhall to-night. Looks like Lethbridge to me – must be Lethbridge. Well, I had it all fixed that she and I and Pom here and you should go to Vauxhall, and while she went to the temple we’d stand guard.’

‘That seems a good idea,’ nodded Captain Heron. ‘But it’s surely odd of –’

‘Of course it’s a good plan! It’s a devilish good plan. But what must that plaguy fellow Rule do but take it into his head to come too! As soon as I heard that I sent Pom off to invite him to a card-party at his house.’

Sir Roland sighed. ‘Pressed him as much as I could. No use. Bent on going to Vauxhall.’

‘But how the deuce am I to stop him?’ asked Captain Heron.

‘You’re the very man!’ said the Viscount. ‘All you have to do is to go off to Grosvenor Square now and tell Rule you’ve matters of importance to discuss with him. If he asks you to discuss ’em at once, you say you can’t. Business to attend to. Only time you can spare is this evening. That’s reasonable enough: Rule knows you’re only in town for a day or two. Burn it, he can’t refuse!’