The Wicked Cousin

by Stella Riley

  In Mount Street, whilst waiting for their guests to arrive, Harry Caversham shook a reproving head at his wife and said, ‘You’re a conniving minx, Nell. I hope you’ve thought what you’re going to do if it turns into a disaster.’

  ‘It won’t be a disaster. It will be a perfectly pleasant evening with friends.’

  ‘That’s not what I meant. I didn’t think Aristide would persuade Madeleine to come so I let you talk me into keeping quiet about it. But now she is coming … and Nick has no idea. I realise he may be pleased and that, even if he’s not, he’ll behave. But I wouldn’t like to speak for Madeleine. She’s got more prickles than a hedgehog.’

  ‘Oh – stuff!’ said Nell airily. ‘You worry too much.’

  An hour later, all but two of their guests were assembled and chatting happily over glasses of wine in the drawing room. Jack and Althea Ingram had arrived with the Marquis and Marchioness of Amberley; Philip and Isabel Vernon had brought Mr Audley; Lady Delahaye set Cassie and Harry’s cousin, Henrietta down in Mount Street en route for her own dinner engagement at Cavendish House; and Lord Nicholas, handsome in pearl grey silk, sauntered in around the time Nell was considering sending Harry off to fetch him – possibly at gunpoint.

  Cassie, who had been avoiding any possibility of a tête à tête with Mr Audley, sidled over to Nell and said, ‘Well, Nicholas is here – but where are the gentleman from the gaming club and his sister?’

  ‘She wasn’t going to come – then she changed her mind around the time when any sane female would have been half-way through dressing. So they’ll be late.’

  ‘Does Nicholas know?’

  ‘Of course not. I want to see his face when she --’ Nell broke off, her eyes brightening as she heard sounds betokening further arrivals. ‘That must be them now. Where’s Harry?’ And she rustled off in search of her husband.

  In the space of ten seconds, Cassie suddenly foresaw what was about to happen. Nell would produce her surprise guests with a dramatic flourish, bringing the whole room to a standstill … and the unknown Frenchwoman, who hadn’t wanted to come, was going to be embarrassed.

  Grabbing Henrietta Leighton’s hand, she said rapidly, ‘In about two minutes’ time, everyone’s going to stop talking and stare. They mustn’t. Get help. Isabel - Mr Audley – oh, anyone quick-thinking! I need to warn Nicholas.’

  Although she blinked in astonishment, Mistress Leighton didn’t waste time asking questions. And Cassie, gaining Lord Nicholas’s side, said urgently, ‘Nell’s planned a surprise. She means well but it may not turn out that way.’

  ‘What?’ He looked back, half laughing and half baffled. ‘Explain, please.’

  ‘I can’t. There’s no time. Just turn away from the door and keep talking to me.’ Then, fiercely, as he opened his mouth to speak, ‘This isn’t about you, Nick – so just do as I say!’

  He frowned slightly but did as she asked. Beyond his shoulder, Cassie saw Nell and Harry enter the room with a fair-haired gentleman and a stunning, willowy redhead. Exactly as she’d feared, about half the guests fell silent; the rest, fortunately, continued talking with unabated determination.

  ‘Can I look now?’ whispered Nicholas; while at exactly the same moment, Lady Elinor said triumphantly, ‘Lord Amberley … I believe you’re acquainted with Monsieur and Mademoiselle Delacroix?’

  Cassie relaxed. One could always rely on Amberley to banish awkwardness and both Philip Vernon and Mr Ingram were already moving towards them. From further cross the room, Mr Audley tossed a cheerful grin in Aristide’s direction and accorded Madeleine a bow of acknowledgement, then went on with what he had been saying to Isabel.

  Nicely played, thought Cassie.

  Nicholas, meanwhile, simply froze, before very slowly turning around. He ignored his sister, allowed his eyes to connect briefly first with those of Lord Harry and then Aristide … and finally they settled on Madeleine.

  A faint and not very convincing smile on her lips, Madeleine kept her chin at a defiant angle and her gaze on the marquis. Smiling easily, Amberley bowed over her hand, murmured some conventional pleasantry and then, drawing his wife forward in the curve of his arm, said, ‘Rosalind – I’d like you to meet Mademoiselle Delacroix and her brother. Either Nell or Harry must have worked some kind of miracle in order to persuade them to join us this evening.’

  ‘Oh?’ Rosalind held out her hand, encountered cold, stiff fingers and closed her own around them before they could be withdrawn. ‘It’s a pleasure, Mademoiselle – though I don’t believe my husband’s talk of miracles. Nell’s usual technique is one of simply bludgeoning us all into submission.’

  The cold hand grew a little less rigid and Madeleine said, ‘In that case, she has a great deal in common with my brother.’

  Rosalind laughed. ‘Is that true, Monsieur?’

  ‘No. It is defamation of the worst kind.’ Knowing of Lady Amberley’s disability, Aristide captured her fingers and bowed over them. ‘And for myself … I am delighted to have the privilege of meeting so lovely a lady.’

  ‘Steady, Aristide,’ warned Amberley, deliberately dissolving any lingering tension, ‘I’m a fair shot, you know.’

  Through the ripple of male laughter, Nicholas strolled towards the newcomers. He shook hands with Aristide and then, bowing to Madeleine, said, ‘This is an unexpected pleasure, Mademoiselle. Allow me to say how lovely you look this evening.’

  She curtsied and, with a complete absence of expression, said, ‘Thank you, my lord. You are most kind.’

  Silence loomed on the horizon again and, sensing it, Isabel took measures of her own. She rapped Sebastian’s wrist with her fan and said clearly, ‘That’s quite enough of that, Mr Audley. Philip may not shoot quite as well as Lord Amberley but I am assured that he has a very punishing Left – whatever that may be.’

  Philip grinned. Sebastian, who had in fact been reciting chess terminology, gravely remarked that, in that case, he would behave … which left Isabel free to ask for an introduction to the newcomers.

  Nell, meanwhile, bore down on Cassie.

  ‘You told him, didn’t you?’

  ‘No. I merely made sure that not quite everybody stopped talking and turned to stare.’

  ‘They wouldn’t have.’

  ‘Yes, Nell. They would. Not for very long, I admit – but long enough to make Mademoiselle uncomfortable. I assumed you wouldn’t want that.’

  ‘No, of course not. But I did hope Nicholas might have had some reaction.’

  ‘He did. He just had the wit not to show it.’ And will almost certainly have something to say to Harry later, unless I miss my guess, she thought, as Nell stalked away – apparently once more in relentless hostess-mode.

  Cassie took the opportunity to look at her fellow guests. With the exception of Mr Audley who was conversing with Harry’s cousin Henrietta, the other gentlemen were gathered loosely about Monsieur Delacroix, allowing the ladies to draw his sister into their own circle. Lightly-built and only a little above medium height, Aristide Delacroix was blond, blue-eyed and impeccably dressed; he was also quite good-looking, thought Cassie – and might have appeared more so had he not been in the same room as Nicholas Wynstanton and Sebastian Audley. As for Madeleine Delacroix … it was no mystery why Nicholas might want to capture her attention. She was stunning. Pale red hair, alabaster skin, eyes the colour of water running over moss and the slender, lissom body of a dancer. Some girls, reflected Cassie ruefully, were born with a whole battery of unfair advantages.

  Mr Audley and Henrietta walked over to join her.

  Henrietta said, ‘Beautiful, isn’t she?’

  ‘Very,’ agreed Cassie. And with a sideways glance at Sebastian, ‘I suppose you’ve met the lady before?’

  ‘Just once.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘And as you have both said, she’s uncommonly lovely.’

  Cassie sensed something he wasn’t saying but couldn’t think of a way to ask what it was. So instead, she said cautiously, �
�Nell thinks that Nicholas has formed a tendre for her.’

  ‘Yes. A common theory … but one I’ve never heard Nicholas say anything to support.’

  ‘You’re suggesting we all mind our own business.’ Henrietta smiled up at him, prior to moving away to join the cluster of ladies gathered around Madeleine, admiring the elegance of her bronze-green taffeta. ‘And you’re right. We should.’

  Left temporarily alone with Sebastian and addressing the silver embroidered vest beneath the beautifully cut dark blue coat, Cassie said abruptly, ‘If I was rude yesterday, I apologise. I know you only meant to be helpful.’

  ‘That was certainly one of my motives – though not necessarily the only one.’

  ‘Oh.’ Her eyes flew to meet his but before she could say anything further, Nell was claiming everyone’s attention.

  ‘I thought,’ she announced, ‘that we might have a little dancing before supper – if Althea wouldn’t mind playing, that is.’

  Mistress Ingram blushed. ‘No, really Nell – I’m sure one of the other ladies --’

  ‘Well, I can’t speak for Mademoiselle Delacroix - but none of the rest of us play nearly as well as you do, Thea. So will you? Just a gavotte and perhaps a quadrille? And it doesn’t matter that one of the gentlemen must be left without a partner because Nicholas won’t dance anyway.’

  Minutes later Althea was seated at the harpsichord with Nicholas lounging at her side, ostensibly to turn the pages while everyone else found partners. Much to Cassie’s surprise, Monsieur Delacroix bowed to her and said gravely, ‘It’s a breach of etiquette, since we have not yet been introduced – but I believe your father is Sir Charles Delahaye?’

  ‘He is indeed.’ Cassie smiled, curtsied and extended her hand. ‘Since Nell has decided we shall not be formal this evening, I think we might dispense with introductions – though I hope to meet your sister later. Meanwhile, I’m very happy to meet you, sir.’

  Aristide’s serious expression melted into a startlingly warm smile.

  ‘Ah. Yes. From the little Lord Sarre has told me, I thought that I would like you.’

  This was neither socially correct nor even predictable. Cassie blushed.

  The opening gavotte was followed by a quadrille which Cassie danced with Harry – and after which Nell begged for a minuet before supper.

  ‘Only if someone else plays,’ said Mr Ingram pleasantly. ‘I’d like to dance with my wife.’

  ‘Oh – of course. That’s only fair.’ Nell glanced hopefully at the other ladies. ‘Cassie?’

  ‘Absolutely not! When someone is listening, all my fingers turn into thumbs.’

  ‘Oh. Isabel, then? Henrietta? Anyone?’

  ‘Why,’ asked Sebastian, ‘does it have to be one of the ladies?’

  And handing Althea from the bench, he sat down himself and launched upon a brief and lively jig. Several jaws dropped, then toes began to tap; and taking Henrietta Leighton completely by surprise, Philip Vernon twirled her expertly the entire length of the room, laughing all the way.

  The tune ended as quickly as it had begun and in a scattering of appreciative applause.

  ‘Where on earth did you learn to do that?’ asked Lord Harry.

  ‘Don’t be too impressed. I play by ear and that’s one of the few tunes I mastered. As for where – Cambridge. It passed the time when there was nobody to take me on at chess.’

  Music and chess? thought Cassie. That’s not how young men usually spend their time at university. And then, It sounds rather lonely.

  ‘Well – vexing as it is – you can’t play now,’ Nell was saying firmly. ‘That would leave a lady without a partner.’

  ‘I’ll do it,’ volunteered the Marchioness of Amberley. And seeming not to notice the mild shock her words had produced, added, ‘I don’t play as well as either Althea or Mr Audley, of course … but I can manage a minuet.’

  Along with the rest, Madeleine watched the Marquis guide his wife to the harpsichord; she watched her ladyship sit down and run silent, searching hands over the keys without looking down at them; and the truth suddenly dawned.

  Oh my God, thought Madeleine. She’s blind. That lovely, kind woman is blind – and not once in the last hour did I guess it. Then, bitterly, And I thought coming here to face Nicholas Wynstanton made me brave. What a fool I am.

  ‘There are conditions, by the way,’ remarked Rosalind, picking out a series of chords.

  ‘Name them,’ invited Harry. ‘No one’s in any position to argue.’

  ‘The married couples dance together; the remaining gentlemen choose a lady they haven’t partnered before; and, since I clearly don’t need a page-turner, Nicholas – go and join in. Dominic won’t mind sitting this one out.’

  For the first time that Nicholas could remember, he half-wanted to join in the dancing and had even briefly considered it. The last time he’d danced had been at the Pantheon with Caroline Maitland, as she’d been then. But Caroline had laughed the whole time and it had been fun. The only lady he wanted to dance with tonight wouldn’t laugh. She’d think his mistakes were a deliberate ploy to make her look foolish. So he groaned and said, ‘You don’t know what you’re asking, Rosalind – though nearly every lady here could tell you – and I don’t want to spoil anyone’s evening.’

  ‘Don’t be silly. You’re among friends, are you not?’

  ‘That’s just the trouble. There’s not an ounce of Christian charity among ’em.’

  ‘True enough,’ grinned Philip Vernon. ‘Come on, Nick. We won’t laugh … much.’

  While this had been going on, Sebastian decided he’d been good long enough and had earned the right to have what he wanted. Since the moment Cassandra had walked in wearing that ethereal green and amethyst gown, one thought had been hammering through his brain. If I’d sent more violets, would she have worn them?

  Offering her a mischievous grin, along with his hand, he murmured, ‘If Nick’s as bad as you said, he won’t do it. Mademoiselle Delacroix doesn’t strike me as someone who has truck with anything less than perfection.’

  Cassie drew a long breath and made the ultimate sacrifice.

  ‘So if they won’t let Nicholas say no, I’d better dance with him.’

  The twilight eyes rested on her thoughtfully.

  ‘That would clearly be the kind thing to do. Unfortunately, I’m not feeling quite that charitable.’ And he tucked her hand through his arm and held it there, causing something inside Cassie to dissolve into mindless joy.

  Madeleine watched Lord Nicholas trying to elude his friends’ teasing but suspected that, male pride being what it was, he’d end up doing what they wanted. It was also clear that she was going to be the one partnering him – a prospect that put her nerves in a tangle. But recalling Aristide’s words about proving her indifference, she caught then held Nicholas’s glance … and waited.

  Nicholas didn’t know whether to trust that look or not. What he did know was that he wasn’t going to escape ridicule, no matter what he did. So he summoned a smile and said, ‘All right. I give in. Since you’re all determined to see me make an ass of myself, on your own heads be it. Mademoiselle Madeleine … will you help me indulge them?’

  She smiled back, albeit coolly. ‘Certainly, my lord. But perhaps we may surprise them?’

  ‘No chance of that, I’m afraid.’ Taking her hand, he led her to join the others and while Rosalind played some bars of introduction, said quietly, ‘I apologise in advance for the fact that the best I can promise is not to tread on your toes. If you felt inclined to be helpful, the odd indication of Right, Left, Forward or Back wouldn’t go amiss.’

  The green eyes widened but she gave a single, tiny nod. And then the dance began.

  Madeleine hadn’t expected to enjoy it. She stayed away from Nicholas Wynstanton because he destroyed her peace of mind when she didn’t. Moreover, though she rarely had the opportunity to dance, she did it well and therefore appreciated a partner of equal ability. For both reasons, treading a me
asure with Lord Nicholas could only be torture. And yet, it wasn’t. After bumping into him when he turned right instead of left and having to catch him when he stepped forward instead of back, she took him at his word and started issuing directions. Things went better after that; and though he somehow managed to trip Lord Harry and elbow Philip Vernon under the jaw, it was fairly clear that these mishaps weren’t accidental. Sitting beside his wife, Lord Amberley was responsible for a number of missed notes by whispering a running commentary which made her giggle.

  When the dance ended and Madeleine made the mistake of looking up into his lordship’s face, she discovered that it was brimming with laughter. Just for a second, he was so irresistibly attractive that her brain stopped functioning.

  Bowing over her hand, he said, ‘Well … that wasn’t so bad, was it? What do you think?’

  Without warning, answering laughter welled up inside her and it required every ounce of control she had to repress it. She said, ‘I think I’d prefer not to comment.’

  ‘That,’ remarked Sebastian Audley, ‘is undoubtedly wise. Have you met Mistress Delahaye yet? No? Cassandra – Mademoiselle Delacroix.’

  Cassie shot him a brief sideways glance, then offered her hand to Madeleine saying with a smile, ‘I’ve been waiting all evening for an introduction – mostly for the chance to compliment you on your gown. It’s beautiful.’

  ‘As is yours,’ came the polite reply. ‘Maison Phanie, of course.’