VIscount Besieged (18 page)

‘
The
shame of it is,’ he was saying, touching a rose with one finger,
‘that you cannot use your own name.’

He crossed the
path and grasped the stem of another rose with his full hand. He
grimaced.

‘
A
thorn—yes.’ The hand came away and he examined it closely as he
continued, ‘Isadora Alvescot is an excellent name for an actress. I
do not think you could better it.’

Taking another
bloom in hand, he let it rest in his palm, gazing at it in frowning
silence.

‘
What
in the world are you doing, Roborough?’

He looked round.
‘What am I doing?’

‘
With
the roses.’

‘
Oh,
that.’ In a confidential sort of voice, he said, ‘I am just making
certain that I am here.’

Isadora stared.
‘What do you mean?’

‘
This
is the rose garden, isn’t it? We are in Pusay?’

‘
Well, of course.’

‘
Thank God for that,’ he said, relieved. ‘I was convinced I had
died and gone to a topsy-turvy sort of limbo.’

For the space of
several seconds, Isadora simply gazed at him, quite unable to
comprehend him. Then it dawned on her.

‘
You
are humouring me!’ The wretch
.
She did not know whether to
laugh or scream. Despite herself, she began to giggle. ‘I thought
you would rant and rave at me when you knew my plans.’

Roborough
grinned. ‘I know you did.’

‘
So
instead you pretend to take an interest, and—’

‘
Expose the utter impossibility of your doing anything of the
kind,’ he finished.

Her amusement
died abruptly. ‘So that is it.’

‘
Yes,
that is it. You cannot, I regret to say, Isadora, become an
actress.’

‘
But—’

‘
Don’t argue! No power on earth would serve to make me permit
you to drag my family name in the mud.’

She gasped.
‘That is all you care about? I might have guessed it,
indeed.’

‘
You
might, if you ever in your life took the trouble to think about
anything other than your own gratification.’

‘
This
from you?’ gasped Isadora in accents of disbelief.

‘
Why
not from me? There seems to be no one else with the power to curb
you and your whims.’

‘
You
think you have power over me? You are mistaken. Merely because you
are related to me—’

‘
If I
were not,’ he interrupted coolly, ‘be sure you might have become an
actress with my good will.’

Isadora barely
knew how to contain her spleen. ‘You are the most selfish man I
have ever met in my life! I hate and loathe you. More than that, I
utterly despise you!’

Turning on her
heel, she fled away, leaving the viscount with some uncomfortable
reflections on his handling of her. He had, he flattered himself,
been on the point of recovery with her. His method of dealing with
that actress nonsense had amused her. What in the name of all the
gods had possessed him to carp at her like that?

He had not
intended to accuse her of selfishness—and what she supposed he had
done to become the most selfish man she had met he could not begin
to fathom—but something in him had seemed to rise up against her.
It was almost as if he wanted to punish her for that killing look
in the breakfast parlour.

But that was
ridiculous. Why should he be so upset by Isadora’s disapprobation?
It was not as if she meant anything to him. Her tantrums merely
amused him. Or did they? Yes, when they were not directed with such
venom. God, she did hate him!

The thought was
so unpalatable that he pushed it away. She had spoken in anger. She
would recover in a few hours. She could not have meant it. She did
not know him well enough to hate him. Unless… Just what had
occurred last night? They had parted on reasonably good
terms.

Syderstone! It
had to be. What in the name of all the gods had the man said to
her?

Isadora,
meanwhile, escaping she knew not where, but only running to get
away from the disturbing presence of the man, had come slap upon
Harriet walking around from the stables.

‘
Good
gracious, Dora, what in the world is the matter?’ called her
friend, catching sight of the distraught running
figure.

Isadora skidded
to a halt. ‘Harriet! How came you here?’

‘
In
the carriage, of course,’ answered the other. ‘What has
happened?’

‘
Everything!’ declared Isadora comprehensively.

Next moment,
Harriet was hustling her into the little parlour and pushing her
into a chair.

‘
You
look dreadful, Dora. I hope this has nothing to do with Edmund’s
visit here yesterday, because—’

‘
Edmund?’ echoed Isadora. ‘No, indeed.’

‘
What
did occur? He told me he had behaved badly, but—’

‘
Oh,
it is not worth talking of,’ said Isadora dismissively, too full
of recent events to care. Edmund! She had all but forgotten the
episode.

‘
But
what did he do?’ Harriet persisted.

‘
He
offered, and when I refused him he tried to kiss me, that is
all.’

‘
All!’

‘
It
was truly nothing to fret over, Harriet. Even Roborough made
nothing of it.’

‘
Roborough saw it?’ shrieked Harriet, horrified.

‘
I
don’t know exactly what he saw, but he made it possible for Edmund
to retire with dignity, and—’

‘
It
does not appear to me that his conduct was in the least dignified.
And to think that Roborough should have witnessed it!’

‘
Great heavens, Harriet, what does it matter? I do not give a
fig for anything that wretched man may think about the
affair.’

‘
Oh,
Dora, you are impossible. Of course it matters. If he is to see you
kissing other men, you will stand no chance of attaching
him.’

Isadora jumped
up. ‘Not that again. Let me tell you, Harriet, that if Lord
Roborough were the last man in the world nothing would induce me to
attempt to attach him. And if you knew as much about him as I do
you would say the same, believe me.’

‘
I
don’t believe you. You have taken one of your nonsensical notions
into your head, and—’

‘
Nonsensical notions? Oh, indeed, it is utterly nonsensical of
me to refuse to put out lures to a man who is nothing but a
hardened gamester.’

Arrested,
Harriet stared at her. ‘What?’

Not without a
touch of satisfaction, Isadora reiterated the statement. ‘He is a
gamester
.
He owes Mr Syderstone money for a gambling debt.
That is why Syderstone is here.’

‘
Syderstone? Oh, you mean the friend who came the other
day.’

‘
He
is not a friend. I told you so at the time and I was
right.’

‘
But
how can you know this is true?’

‘
Because Syderstone himself told me of it only last
night.’

Isadora glared
into space, reminded once more of the iniquitous nature of the
viscount’s unmitigated selfishness.

‘
Now
you see what sort of a man you advocate for my husband.’

Harriet frowned.
‘Have you asked Lord Roborough whether it is the case that he owes
this man money?’

‘
Of
course I have not. You don’t suppose he would admit it, do you?’
She gave a mirthless laugh. ‘He is so far from being conscious of
his wrongs that he dares to call me selfish.’

‘
But
you are, Dora,’ Harriet pointed out. ‘You know you are.’

‘
I
would not sell my inheritance and deprive my entire family of their
home only to pay off a gambling debt,’ Isadora said scathingly. ‘I
may be selfish, Harriet, but I am not wickedly so.’

Harriet stared
at her for a moment or two, a heavy frown marring her prettiness.
At length she said slowly, ‘I don’t believe it. There must be some
mistake. Ten to one you have misunderstood the matter. You usually
do.’

‘
I
thank you.’

‘
Well, you do, Dora. I dare say this Mr Syderstone has some
reason for putting you against the viscount.’

Isadora looked
struck. Was it possible? She felt her pulse begin to quicken. Could
she be mistaken?

‘
What
reason?’

‘
Perhaps he thinks Roborough has an interest in you, and is
jealous.’

This was so
close to the conversation of yesterday that Isadora almost accepted
it for a moment. But had not Syderstone more or less abandoned that
line of talk just before he had revealed his little snippet of
poison last night?

She drew a
breath. It had indeed been a poisonous thing to say. Why had she
not thought of that before? Gentlemen did not traduce one another’s
characters to a lady—except for some fell purpose. What motive
could he have? Had she not herself suspected him of some ploy
against the viscount?

‘
I
wonder if you can be right,’ she said slowly.

‘
That
Mr Syderstone is jealous, you mean?’

‘
No,
he is not that. But he has something against Roborough. If he was
lying…’ She moved purposefully towards the door. ‘There is one way
to find out.’

‘
You
are going to ask Lord Roborough?’ Harriet asked, following her out
into the corridor.

‘
Certainly not. I am going to seek out Syderstone and question
him more closely.’

***

But when Mr
Syderstone was discovered he was found not to be writing letters as
he had claimed he intended, but chatting to Mrs Alvescot and Cousin
Matty in the drawing-room.

‘
Ah,
there you are, Dora,’ exclaimed the latter, the instant Isadora and
Harriet walked into the room. ‘How do you do, Harriet? Here we had
been wondering where Dora had got to and she has been with you all
the time.’

‘
Dora, my love,’ uttered Mrs Alvescot plaintively, ‘we have
been neglectful of poor Mr Syderstone, just as Matty says, and we
do think you might consent to perform for him.’

Syderstone had
risen at the entrance of the young ladies, and he bowed as he added
his entreaties. He was urbanity itself. One would suppose he had no
notion of having so shocked Isadora last night.

‘
My
dear Miss Alvescot, you will make me the happiest of men. I protest
I have been held spellbound with the tale of your skills. I beg
that you will demonstrate them to me. Be warned that I shall not
take no for an answer.’

‘
Oh
dear,’ fluttered Mrs Alvescot, dismayed, plainly unaware that this
sort of expression was merely social banter.

‘
There is no occasion to concern yourself, Ellen,’ said Cousin
Matty firmly. ‘I have no doubt at all that Dora will be only too
happy to oblige Mr Syderstone.’

Harriet,
apparently unable to take so sanguine a view, glanced
apprehensively at Isadora’s face. ‘Now, Dora…’

‘
Make
yourself easy, Harriet,’ Isadora said calmly. ‘I am content to
perform for Mr Syderstone, if he wishes it so very
much.’

Amid the clamour
of praise and pleasure that greeted this decision, Isadora wondered
what Syderstone’s motive was in seeking company with Mama and
Cousin Matty. How had he come upon them at this hour in the first
place? Mama was usually only to be found in her own sitting-room
until luncheon, and Cousin Matty ought to have been attending to
Rowland and Fanny’s lessons.,

‘
Have
you given the children a holiday, Cousin Matty?’ she asked, and
thought she saw a tinge of pink enter her cousin’s
cheeks.

‘
Oh—no, indeed,’ said Cousin Matty airily, but a trifle
self-consciously, Isadora thought. ‘I have set them some reading.
One cannot be forever tutoring, you know. And—and your dear mama
and I have also to see to the housekeeping, so that we had our
discussions on hand today.’

Isadora blinked
at her. Discussions? What discussions? Cousin Matty ran the house,
discussing domestic matters only with Hampole or the cook. Did
Cousin Matty look meaningfully at Mama just then? A moment later,
she was sure of it.

‘
Oh,
dear me, yes,’ said Mrs Alvescot in a conscience-stricken way.
‘Yes, that is quite right, Dora. We have been discussing all about
the—the—’

‘
Dinner,’ Cousin Matty said firmly. ‘With two gentlemen in the
house, you know, one is anxious to set before them an adequate
repast.’

Syderstone
instantly disclaimed any thought that the hospitality he had been
offered had been deficient in any way. While Cousin Matty and Mrs
Alvescot enjoyed an absurd but light discussion on the subject,
disclaimer following disclaimer, Isadora looked frowningly across
at Harriet. Yes, there was enlightenment in her friend’s face. She
would demand an explanation immediately.

On the pretext
of asking advice about which piece she should perform for Mr
Syderstone, she drew Harriet away from the vicinity of the
chattering elder ladies to the other end of the drawing-room. At
least they were too occupied with the man to notice her own drawn
looks. But if their occupation was what she feared…