The Diabolical Baron

by Mary Jo Putney

  His voice trailed off before he resumed in a more vigorous tone. “I’m sure she will discharge her duties well. I could not in conscience draw back now in any case. I mean to call on her father tomorrow, and I foresee no problems. As she and I become better acquainted, I trust we will rub along tolerably well. I’ll invite her and her family to Wildehaven right away. The Season will be ending soon and it will give her a chance to become relaxed with me before the wedding. If we left at the end of next week, there would be time enough to improve her wardrobe before we leave. Now, if you will excuse me for not lingering over my port, I must intercept my soon-to-be-betrothed at Lady Beechwood’s musicale.”

  “I’ll go with you,” George said. “I’m sure I have a card for it around here somewhere, and I’d like to be present for the final act of your little drama.”

  Lady Beechwood’s house was only a few minutes away. It was obvious when they entered and gave their hats to a footman that the musicale was in full swing, or perhaps full voice was a more appropriate term. There was a distinct caterwauling coming from the reception rooms that could be identified by the cognoscenti as one of Miss Smythe-Foot’s infamous assaults on Mozart. Jason twitched visibly, while George put on his blandest social face. In a stirring example of British grit in action, they headed manfully toward the source of the wailing.

  Their valor was rewarded by the song’s end and the beginning of an intermission. Leaving George to his own devices, Jason scanned the rooms for some time before sighting his intended. The girl was amazingly easy to overlook; for the first time he wondered if it was a deliberate effort on her part.

  With this intriguing thought in mind, he headed toward the small figure he located in an alcove at the far end from the performers. She seemed absorbed in her reticule and started when he spoke to her.

  “Are you enjoying the evening, Miss Hanscombe? I recall you said that you are very fond of music.”

  Caroline gave a slight shudder and replied, “Not when the performances are as inferior as this. It is a blessing that Herr Mozart is not alive to hear what is done to his genius.”

  Jason gave a broad smile; the girl was capable of a strong opinion. It was a very good sign. “I see we are in accord on the subject. I assume you prefer a different type of music?”

  Caroline looked scandalized. “To dignify this drivel as music debases the meaning of the real thing. Music is the truest language of the heart. It can express feeling far beyond the power of words to move us. It can create harmony from anger, impose order on the chaotic, and carry us to realms beyond imagination. It...”

  She stopped abruptly and colored in confusion. “I’m sorry. It was very rude to carry on like that.” With a glimmer of a smile she added, “Music is many things to many people. I trust even Miss Smythe-Foot finds pleasure in her endeavors.”

  Jason watched her transformation with fascinated eyes. She had become a whole different person for a moment, with a flash of real beauty. He had little interest in music, but he was delighted to see she was capable of passion. It gave him hope for the future.

  “You are more tolerant than she deserves,” he said as he offered her his arm. “Would you care for some refreshments?”

  Caroline smiled and took his arm, pleased that he felt as he ought when music was abused. For the first time, they were in charity with one another.

  * * * *

  Caroline was humming as she sat at her writing desk the next morning. She felt more relaxed than at any time since she had met Lord Radford. She still had no idea why he sought her out, but she thought it possible they might become friends.

  She was writing an overdue letter to Signore Ferrante, her music teacher in Wiltshire. She had not written for weeks to avoid distressing him; he could always sense her moods, and she cared far too much for the old gentleman to wish him unhappy on her behalf. Caroline gnawed on the end of the pen and thought back to their first meeting.

  She had been eight years old and a new student at the day school in Chippenham, where the signore was music master. For weeks she had heard fascinating sounds coming from the music room; it was the only thing in the school she enjoyed. Shy and tongue-tied, she was a butt for the older girls’ jokes.

  On this particular day the music-room door was open and she slipped in when she saw the room was empty. First she had looked around in wonder; there was a golden harp in one corner and an elaborate pianoforte in the center of the room. Lying on top of the instrument were sheaves of music; she had never seen written music before, and felt frustrated at not understanding it. She felt she ought to be able to read it; the meaning seemed to lie just beyond the edge of her memory.

  After gently striking the center keys, she started to pick out the tune of “Greensleeves,” her favorite of the old country songs her nurse sang when she was a child.

  Signore Ferrante was unnoticed when he came in several minutes later. Wordlessly he had watched the small figure faultlessly playing the song by ear, singing the words in a clear true voice. He had crossed to the instrument and said softly so as not to frighten her, “So, little miss, would you like to learn music?”

  She had lifted her deep blue eyes to his and said gravely, “I want to learn more than anything on earth.”

  The signore let the headmistress know of the child’s interest, and a message went to Lady Hanscombe. She disliked wasting money on educational extras but playing the pianoforte was undeniably necessary to a well-bred young lady.

  Besides, for the first time in her life Caroline cared enough for something to wage a campaign for it. Her ladyship became reconciled to the expenditure after she conceived the happy thought that Caroline could instruct her younger sisters, thus eliminating further expenditures.

  The happiest hours of her childhood belonged to Signore Ferrante’s cluttered parlor, for he was soon giving her private lessons in his home. It was obvious that Caroline had an extraordinary talent; her ear was faultless, she had an amazing memory for both technique and musical literature, and she learned instruments as if she already knew how to play them and just needed reminding. By the age of twelve it was also clear she had a gift for composition that exceeded even her performing skills.

  Signore Ferrante had sometimes wondered what cruel fate sent him as a political exile from sunny Italy to this land of cold rain and cold people, but he wondered no longer after meeting Caroline. A deeply religious man, he felt God had sent him to the bambina, to be her teacher and guide.

  He and his placid wife always had their door open to her, and they found in her a child to replace those grown and gone from home. The signore would sigh when he thought of God’s oversight in making Caroline a female and from a high rank of society; a man would have won acclaim throughout Europe. Even a woman could have been accepted as a performer if she came from a class that permitted such a scandalous career.

  Still, he believed such talent as Caroline had was its own justification. By the time she had been taken off to the Marriage Mart, she was a skilled performer on all the keyboard instruments, plus the lute, violin, harp, recorder, and flute. Her fine singing voice had much more range and power than would have been expected from her soft speech.

  And she left behind her a handful of carefully copied musical compositions that could stand comparison with the best of Europe’s young musical geniuses. Caroline had resisted all suggestions of publishing her work; she felt she would be forbidden her music if anyone discovered her in so unladylike a pursuit as composition. Signore Ferrante didn’t press her. He knew her time would come.

  * * * *

  Caroline’s reverie was interrupted by a knock on her door. Turning, she saw one of the housemaids timidly saying, “Please, miss, you’re wanted in your father’s study right away.”

  She felt a shock of fear. Her father never wanted to talk to her. It could only be... she refused to speculate further. Drawing a deep breath, she laid her pen down and rose slowly. “Thank you, Elsie. I’ll go down directly.”

  It too
k all her courage to enter the room euphemistically called her father’s study. He had never been known to read a book or write an unnecessary letter in his life; the room served mainly as his escape from his family.

  Going inside, she saw that her stepmother was also present, giving her a cool smile of approval. It could mean only one thing.

  Sir Alfred came toward her, beaming with self-satisfaction, and said in what was meant to be a fond tone, “Congratulations, my clever little puss. Lord Radford has been here to ask permission to pay his addresses to you. Soon you will be Lady Radford. He wishes for a speedy wedding.” This was accompanied by a lascivious wink.

  Caroline stared at her father in dismay. She was just beginning to feel less threatened by his lordship, and now this! Stammering and almost incoherent, she embarked on her first attempt to defy her parents’ will. “But... but I do not wish to marry him. If... wh-when he asks me, I shall refuse him.”

  His good nature instantly transformed into anger, the baronet started turning red while he yelled, “We’ll have none of your missish airs! You’re damned lucky to have such an offer, and you’ll accept him with no shilly-shallying!”

  Trembling, a white-faced Caroline said desperately, “I won’t! I turned twenty-one at the end of February, and you can’t make me. I’ll leave home and teach music.”

  Purpled with anger, Sir Alfred took two quick strides across the room and grabbed her shoulders, shaking her violently. Raising one hand to strike her, he bellowed, “Oh, can’t I now? If you don’t agree immediately, you’ll be begging me—”

  “Stop that this instant, Alfred!” Lady Hanscombe moved forward and seized his upraised hand before he could complete the blow. “There is no call to behave like a wild beast. Let me talk to Caroline. She will come around when she understands what is involved.”

  Breathing heavily, Sir Alfred backed off. “See that you make it good, then, because if she isn’t ready to accept Radford when he calls tomorrow, she’ll be sorry she was ever born.” He strode across the room and slammed the study door with a force that rattled the windows.

  Left with a sobbing Caroline, Louisa hesitated before starting to address her. She was not a perceptive woman, but she knew that only the most acute distress could have caused her stepdaughter to defy her parents’ wishes. However, Caroline’s compliance was essential to the family. Since Louisa genuinely believed Radford would make a good husband, she had no qualms about using any method necessary to bring the marriage off.

  “Sit down and calm yourself, Caroline. Here is my handkerchief.” She gave the girl a few moments to collect herself before saying, “You have formed no other attachment, have you?”

  Her sobs subsiding somewhat, Caroline shook her head and made a muffled noise that must have been “No.”

  “Why is it such a surprise to you that Lord Radford has declared himself? I’m told that in the clubs they have been betting on the outcome for weeks.”

  At this Caroline raised her head in pure shock, saying, “How could they?” in a dazed tone.

  Realizing that it was a mistake to mention the matter, Lady Hanscombe said hurriedly, “His attentions have been of the most flattering. Admittedly there is something of an age difference, but he is a very well-looking man, and what is of particular importance, a very wealthy one.”

  Here she paused, wondering how best to phrase the nub of the argument. “I have always attempted to shield my children from unpleasantness, but it is an unfortunate fact that our financial situation is very difficult. In fact, I do not scruple to tell you it is desperate. Surely you must have wondered why only you and Gina came to London while the children remained in Great Chisbury?”

  Her unwilling attention caught, Caroline said, “You talked about their educational needs being more important ...”

  “The real reason was to reduce our costs. Every penny we had went into making it possible for you and your sister to be presented creditably. It is essential that one or both of you make very good marriages. Your younger brothers and sisters are depending on that fact.”

  “Isn’t there money to come to me from my mother? I am of age now. I do not mind giving it to help them.”

  “It is not enough to signify,” Louisa said quickly. Far better to leave that stone unturned!

  “Gina is making a good marriage. Everyone says so. Can’t I be released from this one?”

  Ignoring the girl’s pleading blue eyes, Lady Hanscombe said, “It is a respectable alliance, but of little use at present. Gideon will eventually have a good property and income, but his parents are still alive, healthy, and relatively young. He does not have the personal fortune to help his wife’s family. The best we can hope for is that he accept Gina without a portion, as indeed he has done. And”—playing her trump card— “were it not that Lord Radford’s offer was imminent, we would have been forced to refuse young Fallsworthy’s suit. You remember Sir Wilbur Hatchett? He was willing to make a very good offer for your sister, and could still be brought up to scratch should we indicate that she is available. I am reluctant to do that. The man is in Trade, and personally unattractive as well. Certainly Gina showed no partiality for him.”

  Caroline could only blink at the understatement. Gina detested the man and referred to him as “the toad” when her mother was not around.

  “Lord Radford has offered a generous settlement, very generous indeed. If you persist in refusing him, we will have to force your sister to cry off from the engagement. Unlike you, she is not yet of age and must do as her parents bid her.” Even though Louisa was sure the headstrong chit would have her Gideon in the face of any opposition, she did not hesitate to play on Caroline’s affection to gain her cooperation.

  Caroline bowed her head in defeat. She remembered her sister’s joyful proclamation of her marriage, and Gideon’s tender adoration whenever he was near his beloved. How could she make the two of them so unhappy, as well as blighting the chances of the younger children? There was no way out.

  “Very well, then,” she said in a dead voice. “I will accept him.”

  Lady Hanscombe nodded her head approvingly. “I was sure you would know your duty.” She paused, then added awkwardly, “Do not be unhappy. Radford is a fine man with an impeccable reputation. I am sure he will treat you with all kindness and consideration. Soon you will look back at these megrims and laugh.”

  There was no way under the heavens Caroline could have explained why the prospect of marriage to his lordship was so distressing. She didn’t even try; her temples throbbing with pain, she whispered huskily, “May I go now, Mama?” Without waiting for an answer, she stood and went blindly to the door. Her stepmother made no attempt to stop her.

  * * * *

  It was late that evening when Jessica entered the Adam Street town house, drawn by Gina’s hastily scribbled note: Please come at once. Caroline needs you.

  As the footman took her cloak, Gina hastened down the stairs, motioning her into the small ground-floor salon with gestures to keep silence. The door safely closed behind them, Jessica demanded, “What is going? What is wrong with Caroline?”

  Gina shook her head, her round face drawn and worried. “It has been the most dreadful day! Lord Radford offered for Caroline. There was terrible yelling from my father’s study, then Caro went to her room and cried for hours. I asked what was wrong, but she would only say she is to marry Radford. Why would she accept him if it makes her so miserable? She has only to say no, after all. She hasn’t talked or eaten all day. I’ve never seen her like this. Usually if she is unhappy she just wanders off or plays the piano or some such. This time she looks like she is under sentence of death. Please, Jessica, see if you can do something for her!”

  Jessica’s lips tightened; she had suspected something of the sort. Much better than Gina, she could understand how Caroline could be forced against her will. “I’ll go up to her room immediately.”

  She tapped softly on her niece’s door, then entered without waiting for an answer. In
the low light of a single lamp, the crumpled child-size figure lay unmoving.

  “Caro, are you all right?” She walked quietly across the room and sat on the edge of the bed. Her lips parted in silent shock; Gina had not exaggerated. Caroline looked barely alive, her blue-white lips contrasting sharply with the swollen red eyes, the skin drawn tight to the bone, and her eyes staring blankly.

  A bowl of water and a cloth sat on the bedside table; Jessica picked up the cloth and wrung it out, smelling lavender as she did so. She carefully spread the cloth over her niece’s forehead and asked, “Can you hear me?”

  Caroline blinked and stared at her aunt, slowly bringing her into focus. “Jess.” She half-rolled into her aunt’s lap, wrapping her arms around her as if there were no other security in the world. Jessica stroked her hair. “Gina told me you are to marry Lord Radford. Why have you consented if it distresses you so? You know you can come to me if you are forced to leave your parents’ house.” No matter how much trouble would be caused in the family and in Wiltshire, Jessica was prepared to stand by her word.

  Caroline replied in a flat, lifeless voice, “Money is the problem. Lord Radford is willing to pay a ridiculously high price for me. If I refuse him, Gina will be forbidden to marry Gideon.”

  Jessica swore softly to herself. She had never had much opinion of her brother-in-law’s judgment, but she had had no idea matters were in such bad case. They had found the perfect emotional blackmail to persuade Caroline.

  Her niece added after a moment, “Apparently he will help the younger children as it becomes necessary. He is certainly getting a poor bargain for his money!” She ended with a half-hysterical bubble of laughter.

  Continuing the gentle massage from her niece’s head down to the neck and shoulders, Jessica asked, “Since you have decided to marry him, we must find why you dislike him so. What has he done to you?”