The Convenient Marriage (14 page)

'Yes, b-but he has walked out for a while,' replied Horatia.

'Oh, and you c-carry a fan! Lady Amelia, only see! Mr Drelincourt has a fan m-much prettier than mine!'

Mr Drelincourt shut the fan with a snap. 'Walked out, has he? Upon my word, you are monstrously used, cousin, and you a bride!' He peered through the glass in the head of his cane at the boxes opposite, and uttered a titter. 'What fair charmer can have lured him - Good God, the Massey! Oh, I beg pardon, cousin - I should not have spoken! A jest - the merest jest, I assure you! I had not the least intention - la, do but observe the creature in the puce satin over there!'

Viscount Winwood, who had caught something of this interchange, started up out of his chair with a black scowl on his face, but was restrained by Lady Amelia, who grasped the skirts of his coat without ceremony and gave them an admonitory tug. She got up ponderously, and surged forward. 'So it's you, is it, Crosby? You may give me your arm back to my box, if it's strong enough to support me.'

'With the greatest pleasure on earth, ma'am!' Mr Drelincourt bowed, and tittupped out with her.

Mr Dashwood, observing the bride's expression of puzzled inquiry, coughed, exchanged a rueful glance with the Viscount, and took his leave.

Horatia, her brows knit, turned to her brother, 'What did he m-mean, P-Pel?' she asked.

'Mean? Who?' said the Viscount.

'Why, C-Crosby! Didn't you hear him?'

'That little worm! Lord, nothing! What should he mean?'

Horatia looked across at the box opposite. 'He said he should not have spoken. And
you
said - only the other d-day - about Lady M-Massey—'

'I didn't!' said the Viscount hastily. 'Now don't for God's sake ask a lot of silly questions, Horry!'

Horatia said, with a flash of her eyes: 'Tell me P-Pelham!'

'Ain't nothing to tell,' replied the Viscount, wriggling nobly. 'Except that the Massey's reputation don't bear probing into; but what of that?'

'V-very well,' said Horatia, a singularly dogged look about her mouth. 'I shall ask Rule.'

The Viscount was seriously alarmed by this threat, and said rashly: 'No, don't do that! Damme, there's nothing to ask, I tell you!'

P-perhaps Crosby will explain it, then,' said Horatia. 'I will ask him.'

'Don't you ask that viper anything!' ordered the Viscount. 'You'll get nothing but a pack of scandal-mongering lies from him. Leave well alone, that's my advice.'

The candid grey eyes lifted to his face. 'Is R-Rule in love with Lady M-Massey?' Horatia asked bluntly.

'Oh, nothing like that!' the Viscount assured her. 'These little affairs don't mean being in love, y'know. Burn it, Horry, Rule's a man of the world! There's nothing in it, my dear gal - everyone has 'em!'

Horatia glanced across at Lady Massey's box again, but the Earl had disappeared. She swallowed before replying: 'I kn-know. P-please don't think that I m-mind, because I d-don't. Only I think I m-might have been told.'

'Well, to tell you the truth, I thought you must know,' said Pelham. 'It's common knowledge, and it ain't as though you married Rule for love, after all.'

'N-no,' agreed Horatia, rather forlornly.

Chapter Nine

IT was not a difficult matter for Lord Lethbridge and Lady Rule to pursue their newly declared friendship. Both being of the
haut ton
they visited the same houses, met, quite by chance, at Vauxhall, at Marylebone, even at Astley's Amphitheatre, whither Horatia dragged the unwilling Miss Charlotte Winwood to see the still new wonder of the circus.

'But,' said Charlotte, 'I must confess that I can discover nothing to entertain or elevate the mind in the spectacle of noble horses performing the steps of a minuet, and I cannot conceal from you, Horatia, that I find something singularly repugnant in the notion that the Brute Creation should be obliged to imitate the actions of Humanity.'

Mr Arnold Gisborne, their chosen escort, appeared to be much struck by this exposition, and warmly felicitated Miss Winwood on her good sense.

At which moment Lord Lethbridge, who had quite by accident taken it into his head to visit the Amphitheatre on this particular evening, entered the box, and after a brief interchange of civilities with Miss Winwood and Mr Gisborne, took the vacant chair beside Horatia and proceeded to engage her in conversation.

Under cover of the trumpets which heralded the entrance into the ring of a performer who was advertised on the bill to jump over a garter fifteen feet from the ground, at the same time firing off two pistols, Horatia said reproachfully: 'I sent you a c-card for it, but you did not come to my hurricane-party, sir. That was not very friendly of you, now w-was it?'

He smiled. 'I do not think my Lord Rule would exactly welcome my presence in his house, ma'am.'

Her face hardened at that, but she replied lightly enough: 'Oh, you n-need not put yourself about for that, sir. My lord does not interfere with m-me, or - or I with him. Shall you be at the ball at Almack's Rooms on Friday? I have promised M-Mama I will take Charlotte.'

'Happy Charlotte!' said his lordship.

Almost any right-minded young female would have echoed his words, but Miss Winwood was at that very moment confiding to Mr Gisborne her dislike of such frivolous amusements.

'I own,' agreed Mr Gisborne, 'that this present rage for dancing is excessive, yet I believe Almack's to be a very genteel club, the balls not in the least exceptionable, such as those held at Ranelagh and Vauxhall Gardens. Indeed, I believe that since Carlisle House was given up the general
ton
of these entertainments is much raised above what it was.'

'I have heard,' said Charlotte with a blush, 'of masquerades and ridottos from which all Refinement and Decorum— but I will not say more.'

Happily for Miss Winwood no ball at Almack's Rooms was ever sullied by any absence of propriety. The club, which was situated in King Street, was in some sort an off-shoot of Almack's in Pall Mall. It was so exclusive that no one hovering hopefully on the fringe of Society could ever hope for admittance. It had been founded by a
coterie
of ladies headed by Mrs Fitzroy and Lady Pembroke, and for the sum of ten guineas, a very modest subscription, a ball and a supper were given once a week there for three months of the year. Almack himself, with his Scotch accent and his bag-wig, waited at supper, while Mrs Almack, dressed in her best saque, made tea for the noble company. The club had come to be known as the Marriage Mart, a circumstance which induced Lady Winwood to persuade Charlotte into accepting her sister's invitation. Her own indifferent health made it impossible for her to chaperon Charlotte herself at all the places of entertainment where a young lady making her debut ought to be seen, so she was once more extremely thankful that Horatia was suitably married.

Lord Winwood and his friend Sir Roland Pommeroy, a very fine young buck, were chosen by Horatia as escorts to the ball. Sir Roland expressed himself to be all happiness, but the Viscount was less polite. 'Hang you, Horry, I hate dancing!' he objected. 'You've a score of beaux, all of 'em falling over themselves for the chance of leading you out. Why the plague d'you want me?'

But it seemed that Horatia for some reason best known to herself did want him. Warning her that he had no notion of dancing through the night and would probably end in the card-room, the Viscount gave way. Horatia said, with truth, that she had not the least objection to his playing cards, since no doubt she would find partners enough without him. Had the Viscount realized what particular partner she had in mind he might not have yielded so easily.

As it was, he escorted both his sisters to King Street and performed his duties to his own satisfaction by leading Horatia out for the opening minuet, and going down one of the country dances with Charlotte. After that, seeing his sisters comfortably bestowed in the middle of Horatia's usual court, he departed in search of liquid refreshment and more congenial entertainment. Not that he expected to derive much enjoyment even in the card-room, for dancing and not gaming being the object of the club stakes would be low, and the company probably unskilled. However, he had caught sight of his friend Geoffrey Kingston when he first arrived, and had no doubt that Mr Kingston would be happy to sit down to a quiet game of piquet.

It was some time before Lord Lethbridge appeared in the ballroom, but he came at last, very handsome in blue satin, and Miss Winwood, who happened to catch sight of him first, instantly recognized the saturnine gentleman who had joined them at Astley's. When he presently approached Horatia, and Miss Winwood
observed the friendly, not to say intimate, terms they seemed to be on, misgiving seized her, and she began to fear that Horatia's frivolity was not confined to the extravagance of her dress, whose great hoop and multitude of ribbons and laces she had already deplored. She contrived to catch Horatia's eye in a reproving fashion, just as her sister was going off for the second time on Lord Lethbridge's arm to join the dance.

Horatia chose to ignore this look, but it had not escaped Lethbridge, who said, raising his brows: 'Have I offended your sister? I surprised a most unloving light in her eye.'

'W-well,' said Horatia seriously, 'it was not very polite in you not to ask her to d-dance this time.'

'But I never dance,' said Lethbridge, leading her into the set.

'S-silly! you are dancing,' Horatia pointed out.

'Ah, with you,' he replied. 'That is different.'

They became separated by the movement of the dance, but not before Lethbridge had marked with satisfaction the blush that mounted to Horatia's cheeks.

She was certainly not displeased. It was quite true that Lethbridge hardly ever danced, and she knew it. She had seen one or two envious glances follow her progress on to the floor and she was far too young not to feel conscious of triumph. Rule might prefer the riper attractions of Caroline Massey, but my Lady Rule would show him and the rest of the Polite World that she could capture a very rare prize on her own account. Quite apart from mere liking, which she undoubtedly felt towards Lethbridge, he was the very man for her present purpose. Such easy conquests as Mr Dashwood, or young Pommeroy, would not answer at all. Lethbridge, with his singed reputation, his faint air of haughtiness, and his supposed heart of marble, was a captive well worth displaying. And if Rule disliked it - why, so much the better!

Lethbridge, perfectly aware of these dark schemes, was playing his cards very skilfully. Far too clever to show an ardency which he guessed would frighten Horatia, he treated her with admiration savoured with the mockery he knew she found tantalizing. His manner was always that of a man many years her senior; he teased her, as in his continued refusal to play cards with her; he would pique her by being unaware of her presence for half an evening, and devoting himself to some other gratified lady.

As they came together again, he said with his bewildering abruptness: 'My lady, that patch!'

Her finger stole to the tiny square of black silk at the corner of her eye. 'W-why, what, sir?'

'No,' he said, shaking his head. 'Not the Murderous, I beg of you! It won't do.'

Her eyes twinkled merrily. As she prepared to go down the dance again, she said over her shoulder: 'Which then, p-please?'

'The Roguish!' Lethbridge answered.

When the dance ended, and she would have rejoined Charlotte and Sir Roland, he drew her hand through his arm and led her towards the room where the refreshments were laid.

'Does Pommeroy amuse you? He does not me.'

'N-no, but there is Charlotte, and perhaps—'

'Forgive me,' said Lethbridge crisply, 'but neither does Charlotte amuse me - Let me fetch you a glass of ratafia.'

He was back in a moment, and handed her a small glass. He stood beside her chair sipping his own claret and looking straight ahead of him in one of his abstracted fits.

Horatia looked up at him, wondering, as she so often did, why he should all at once have lost interest in her.

'Why the Roguish, my lord?'

He glanced down. 'The Roguish?'

'You said I must wear the Roguish p-patch.'

'So I did. I was thinking of something else.'

'Oh!' said Horatia, snubbed.

His sudden smile lit his eyes 'I was wondering when you would cease to call me so primly "my lord",' he said.

'Oh!' said Horatia, reviving. 'B-but indeed, sir—'

'But indeed, ma'am!'

'W-well, but what should I c-call you?' she asked doubtfully.

'I have a name, my dear. So too have you - a little name that I am going to use, with your leave.'

'I d-don't believe you c-care whether you have my l-leave or not!' said Horatia.

'Not very much,' admitted his lordship. 'Come, shake hands on the bargain, Horry.'

She hesitated, saw him laughing and dimpled responsively. 'Oh, very well, R-Robert!'

Lethbridge bent and kissed the hand she had put into his. 'I protest I never knew how charming my poor name could sound until this moment,' he said.

'Pho!' said Horatia. 'I am very sure any number of ladies have b-been before me with it.'