by Laura Locke
Richmond chuckled. “Anyone who can play Haydn at first sight has no right to say they're out of practice,” he said fondly to her, going halfway into the French doors to chat with her.
“Yes, they do,” she called crisply back. “Have you ever heard Haydn before? If you had, you'd think differently of my level of skills.”
Richmond chuckled. “We shall leave you to it, sister. Cornelia? You are joining me for the park now?”
“Now? Oh, yes. I don't see why not. It would be fun.”
“Capital,” he said lightly. “I'll call Rigby and get him to ready the coach.”
Cornelia waited where she was after he'd gone, enjoying the sunshine and thinking. Her new thoughts on the situation made it clear that something was happening here. Alexandra had some motive for wishing her to stay, for wanting her to feel indebted to them. Why?
“Are you ready?” Richmond asked, appearing ten minutes later.
“Well, I just need my bonnet from downstairs,” Cornelia said, brushing her skirts of her peach muslin day-dress into a better shape.
“Well, then. That's easy.” Richmond smiled.
Cornelia followed him down the stairs.
She tied the white silk ribands of her bonnet under her chin and accepted a hand up to the seat of the open coach. Then they were away, drawing along the cobbled streets.
“It is a lovely day, warm and light,” Richmond said. “And no breeze. We could play croquet, if you're amenable?”
“A bit of croquet might be pleasant,” Cornelia mused. “Though I hope you'll find me a worthy opponent.”
“I am so out of practice, my lady, that anyone will be a fair match for me.”
Cornelia laughed. He looked so rueful about it. “Well, we shall be well-matched.”
He smiled. “You have a rare way about you, my lady. It appeals to me.”
Cornelia flushed. Setting aside the fact that she felt mainly sorrow for Richmond, he was still a gallant, handsome man and she couldn't help the fact that what he said affected her. He could certainly be charming. Here in the coach, with that turned-down smile, the sun warm in his eyes, he was handsome and contrite and she could find it in her heart to be moved by him.
“Well, you, my lord, give the sweetest praise.”
He blushed. “Nonsense. True, all of it.”
Cornelia smiled. “Thank you.”
The carriage rolled on towards the park.
“Here we go. Come back in...shall we say two hours, my lady?”
“Two hours sounds pleasant.” Cornelia could have done with an hour only, but she wasn't about to say that...not when he was being so friendly and kind.
“Here, my lady.” He held out a hand for her to alight, and she did so, jumping down lightly to the cobbles. He smiled into her eyes and she wished she could feel safe enough to return that sweet smile. But he had betrayed her trust more than once. And there was some secret here.
“Thank you, Richmond.”
They passed through the wrought-iron gates and walked into the park arm-in-arm.
Even at this time of the morning, the place was busy. Kensington Gardens was one of the more popular parks in London. Cornelia watched gentlemen in top-hats escorting ladies in long pale dresses like hers down leafy avenues, or relaxing in the sunshine on benches.
“Good day,” Richmond called to a man on the path, evidently an acquaintance.
“Richmond! You devil! You didn't say you were down for the Season!” the man gave him a big grin and patted his shoulder affectionately. Then he saw Cornelia and went quiet. Cornelia smiled up at him and he went pink.
“Oh. Osrick. This is Lady Cornelia. Cornelia, may I introduce Payce Osrick, Lord Carringwood?”
“Pleased to meet you, my lord.” Cornelia smiled.
The man cleared his throat. “Honored to meet you, my lady. Now, Richmond...did you tell Claremont and Seyton about this? That you've sneaked into town and we had no idea you're here?” He said it in a teasing, mock-authoritative way.
Richmond inclined his head. “I have not.” He smiled ruefully.
“Good grief, man! Come! We're all here. Sitting about wasting our time when we should be visiting solicitors or catching up with our accountants. Excuse me, my lady; but I can't let him get away with hiding himself like this!” He turned to Cornelia with a rueful smile.
Cornelia laughed. “Of course, my lord. Let us go and meet these others.”
He raised a brow, grinning at her. “A good plan, milady. Off we go.”
She walked with her arm linked with Richmond's, but she felt uncomfortable doing it, as if they were acting in a play. She watched Lord Osrick walk ahead briskly and looked sideways to note that Richmond looked, if anything apprehensive. She wondered why.
They arrived at a place where the path forked, where two other men were seated on a bench, smoking pipes and watching the rest of the visitors to the park. They had a set for croquet with them, but evidently they had either just played or decided not to.
“Ahoy, there!” Cornelia heard Lord Osrick saying. “Look who I found! You'll need to...you'll never guess who it is!”
“Good gracious! Is that Richmond?”
“Findlay! How have you been?” the other man called. “We thought you were away.”
“I was,” Richmond said. He shook hands with each of the men. “I just arrived over a week ago.”
“Oh. Well, then I suppose we can forgive you the silence. But good heavens, man! The club's not the same without you!” The speaker was a tall man with auburn hair and a thin, freckled face. Cornelia liked the look of him. The other, smooth-faced and blond, stood and gave a bow.
“My lady. We've not been introduced. I am Arthur, Lord Seyton. This fellow here with the red hair is Richard, Baron Claremont. And that fellow I presume you already know.” He indicated Lord Osrick with a smile. “Honored to make your acquaintance.”
Cornelia smiled. “Charmed, my lord. I am Lady Cornelia.” She curtseyed to the group. Richmond was busy talking to Lord Osrick, which left her somewhat isolated with the other two. She looked at her hands, seeking inspiration, but they started.
“You have been in London long? Longer than him, at any rate?” Lord Seyton asked.
“I arrived a week ago as well,” Cornelia demurred. Was it so short a time? So much had happened in that time!
“Well! Then you must already weary of its diversions,” he continued. “There is only so much of everything one can stand.”
Cornelia smiled. “I suppose, my lord.”
“Why came you to London?” Richard, Baron Claremont, asked. He had a friendly face with warm green eyes and Cornelia felt that she liked him best.
The other man rolled his eyes. “Why do you think? For the season! Why is anyone here?”
“I was merely inquiring...” he said mildly.
Cornelia smiled. “I am pleased you inquire, my lord. I am here to visit family – my cousin Lucas.”
“Oh.” Richard continued. “And you have had a chance to visit the other parks?”
Lord Seyton seemed to realize he had overstepped politeness by interrupting Cornelia, and he shook his head to himself and headed off to join Lord Osrick and Richmond.
“I have seen them before,” Cornelia agreed. “Though I confess Kensington Gardens is a favorite.”
“Oh, mine too,” Richard nodded. “It is very...peaceful. Much more so than, say St. James'.”
“It is,” Cornelia agreed. She sat down on the bench, feeling weary. Richard joined her, though a respectful distance away, stretching his long legs to the path's edge. “I like the Italian section best.”
“Oh, me too, for certain,” he agreed. Beautiful. I could spend all day just there. Richmond doesn't come out here as often as he should. Good for you, coaxing him out.”
“I didn't do much,” Cornelia said with a smile. “I didn't think of Richmond as reclusive...it was his idea.”
“Richmond can be reclusive,” Richard said with a smile. “Which is
odd, for a man who usually finds himself at the center of any gathering. He's stylish, extravagant, witty...we should see him more often! We could use more of his sort.”
“Extravagant?” that surprised Cornelia. Imagining Richmond genial was not hard, but in all the time she had known him she had not so much as seen him be generous, never mind extravagant!
“Oh, yes!” Richard laughed. “If anyone's buying the rounds, or suggesting we all go to the theater and then paying for seats when we're done, it's Richmond. I think sometimes he gets hangers-on like that. But we're not hangers-on, milady. Not often, anyhow.” He grinned. “Known him since Cambridge, we have.”
“What was he like?” Cornelia asked, curiously. Had he been open-handed and fun-loving? He seemed quiet and hesitant now.
“Oh, he was a dear.” Richard laughed at her expression. “I mean that in the truest sense. Quiet, but always ready with a smile and always the first to join in any activity. He's changed a lot. Got bitter. I suppose things do that to people; change their characters. A pity. But there we are.”
“Things?” Cornelia wondered aloud. What had happened to him to change him from that eager, happy youth to the bitter, aloof man he was now?
“Changes. Probably his uncle, actually. Difficult sod. Pardon me, milady, but there it is.”
“His uncle?” Cornelia was fascinated now. Despite her apparent closeness to Alexandra and her brother, she had never discussed anything about their family. Lord Richard was a wealth of knowledge.
“His uncle holds the estate in trust for him. Miserly old sod, he is. I know Richmond and he had several set-to's over the years. Don't agree with each other. And he uses the purse to control the pair of them. It's cruel. But what can he do? What can anyone do?” he sighed.
“Poor Richmond,” Cornelia shook her head, starting to understand him a little better. She wondered, privately, about Lady Alexandra and how much pressure she added to the load Richmond already carried. She knew enough of her to understand that she was ambitious and socially-aspiring in ways Richmond likely hadn't been.
“Indeed, poor fellow. Which is why I'm so glad to meet you, milady, and to see you bring him out of himself somewhat. Well done.”
Cornelia blushed and looked down. “I have done nothing, my lord.”
“On the contrary,” he smiled at her. “I would we could have done as well – Seyton and Osrick and I. But it needed you.”
Cornelia smiled. He was looking at her with an intense, sweet expression and she swallowed hard, almost wishing she could have met him under other circumstances. But Francis already had her heart. And Francis was not as evil as he seemed.
“Well, I am glad to have met you, too, my lord. And now, it seems, we may play croquet?” she saw the three standing on the grass by the track, looking through the bag of clubs and hoops.
“Oh, no. I won't stand for that. Seyton, you miserable blighter – pardon me, milady. Perish the thought! I've suffered one humiliating defeat already.”
“Oh! Spoilsport,” the blond man called out disparagingly. But Cornelia noticed he put the bag away.
“Capital. You have to keep an eye on these fellows, my lady. They wreak all sorts of calamity left to themselves.”
Cornelia laughed. “I can imagine.”
“What is our dear friend telling you about me?” Richmond asked cheerily, coming to join them. His eyes sparkled more since meeting with his friends, Cornelia noticed, though the thought they had been discussing him seemed to make him nervous.
“Nothing, Richmond, old fellow,” he said affably. “I didn't even tell her about the time you got locked into the upstairs hall...”
“Now, don't you start!” Richmond said, though he was laughing too.
“It was very funny, my lady,” Richard said, shoulders shaking. “He was locked in when the class ended, and he couldn't get out...brave fellow scaled the wall down through the window, though.” He smiled up at Richmond; clearly respectful of his climb out.
“Oh, come, Richard,” Richmond dismissed the story with a wave of the hand, though he was chuckling. “It was years ago now! Must you repeat it?”
“I must,” he said, still laughing. “It gets funnier each time I think of it. My dear man. You didn't see your face.”
Richmond looked exasperated, but Cornelia noticed he didn't seem displeased to be teased. It was good to see him look happier. “Come now,” he said. “You will embarrass me. My lady?”
“Yes, Richmond?” Cornelia asked.
“We should away. I agreed to see the fellows later. I wished to show you the fountain, though I am sure you have seen it before.” He took her elbow as she stood, and bowed to the group.
“I would not say no to seeing it again,” Cornelia smiled. “Farewell,” she added to Richard.
He stood and bowed low. “Farewell, Lady Cornelia. And you, Richmond. Good to see you.”
Richmond bowed and led her away.
“Richmond! See you later,” Lord Seyton called as they walked away. “I'll remind you so you can't forget about us,” he added, laughing.
“I need no reminding,” he called over his shoulder. “Awaiting it with anticipation tinged with misgiving.”
They all laughed and Cornelia found herself smiling too. Her mood had lightened as Richmond cheered up and it made her notice, as if for the first time, how reserved and severe he was normally.
I wish I could find out more about him. And her.
There must needs be some explanation for why they had been so odd, so cruel to her: Alexandra in particular, with her constant need to make Cornelia feel awful about herself. And to cause her to think ill of Francis. No-one was inherently cruel. Or, if there were such people, they were far outweighed by those who were inherently kind.
No. There is some story here.
As she walked with Richmond, surveying the landscape, nodding to people as they passed, admiring the fountain, she was focusing elsewhere.
I wonder about this uncle. He controls the finances. Uses them to control Richmond and Alexandra. How grave is their financial situation?
They were two young people, living – or trying to live – the highest-profile life. They were clearly spending a great deal, and Richmond had been known to be a big spender. Anyone who controlled their purse-strings had a mighty hold on them.
“My dear?”
“Yes, Richmond?”
“Would you like to see some more of Town? I fancy stopping for coffee. If you would also like that?”
“Yes, thank you, Richmond. I've been on my feet a while now. A sit-down with coffee would be most agreeable.”
He smiled. “Then, let us seek out coffee.”
Cornelia smiled back and slipped her arm tighter through his and together they walked down the pathway to the gate.
Cornelia walked past the fashionable couples, the carriages with their matched horses, the gentlemen and ladies about their business or seated taking coffee and refreshments, but she barely saw them. She was thinking about Richmond. She was determined to solve the mystery.
Chapter 16
The cafe Richmond found was easily the most popular in the city. At least, one would think so from the clamor and chatter from inside, everyone talking and trying to be heard over everyone else.
“Ah. Here we are. We may have to wait for a seat, my lady. If that would suit?” Richmond asked, taking her coat gallantly.
“It would, my lord.”
“Well, then. Ah! A table for two, if there is one?”
“There is, my lord. Of course. Come, after me.”
As the proprietor led them into the darkened interior, Cornelia looked about, amazed by the sheer number of tables and people in a single room.
People of all sorts came here – at one table there was a highly-fashionable couple, the lady with a turban and a lovely hairstyle of tumbledown curls, the man with sideburns and an impeccable suit. Next to them sat two disreputable-looking men that Cornelia took to be poets, judging from their conversat
ion. Merchants and businessmen, artists and poets, politicians, lords and publishers...everyone was crammed into this small space, it seemed – London, on a miniature scale.
“Ah. Here we are. My lady? Coffee, yes?”
“Yes, please.”
“Two coffees, then,” Richmond told the proprietor quickly. “And something to eat? I might take a pastry or something.”
“I think that sounds nice,” Cornelia nodded.
As the man rattled off the selection of the day, Cornelia tried to block out the talk and shouts around them and focus her mind. I need to find out more about Richmond and his finances. That is probably the key to all this secrecy.
As she thought it, she recalled little things she had noticed. The closeness of Allanson and Alexandra, the strained conversations Richmond and his sister fell into whenever she was not there.
“My lady?” Richmond interrupted her.
“Oh. A Chelsea, please.”
Richmond raised a brow, but said nothing. The Chelsea bun was a popular and sought-after pastry and perhaps he was surprised she knew of them, coming from the countryside as she did. She smiled.
“I'm hungry,” she insisted. He laughed.
“You make me wish I'd had one too.”
“What did you order?”
“A Danish.”
“I was thinking of swapping, but I think mine's better.”
Richmond laughed. “My dear. It's nice to see you...sparkling today.”
Cornelia flushed. “Thank you, my lord. You seem cheerier as well.”
“The weather, mayhap,” he said lightly, indicating the sunshine that filtered in through the long sash-windows into the interior.
“It may be.” Cornelia smiled. Personally she was not so sure. Being among friends who had less expectations and more genuine fondness for him had certainly improved Richmond's mood. And for herself?
Mayhap learning that not everyone things as disparagingly as Richmond and his sister about me. And that Francis isn't wicked.
She sighed. She missed him. There were many times she wished she could comment to him about something she saw; something that would amuse him or made her think of him. It happened often.
