‘Oh don’t be such a kill-joy!’ snapped her brother. ‘And if all you want is to lecture me on the expense, you can save yourself the trouble.’
‘That,’ returned Isabel with unaccustomed firmness, ‘is only part of it. I want to talk to you about the three thousand guineas you borrowed from Lord Philip – and you can either discuss it now in my room or tonight over the dinner-table. The choice is yours.’ And she walked away into the house and on up the stairs.
As she had known he would, Robert followed and, slamming the door behind him, leaned sulkily against it and said, ‘Well? I suppose Vernon blabbed the whole to you?’
‘He told me of it, yes,’ she replied calmly. ‘And I’m very glad he did, for it gave me the chance to tell him never to lend you money again.’
Robert jerked himself upright. ‘You did what?’
‘I’m sorry, Robert – but I won’t have you sponging off him. So if you were hoping to persuade him to pay for your curricle and pair, you’ll have to think again.’
‘Oh will I?’ he demanded furiously. ‘Well, let me tell you, Mistress Interference, that I’ll have no need. It’s already paid for.’
He had ample time, before Isabel spoke, to regret this carelessly bestowed piece of information. Then, ‘Is it?’ she asked sharply. ‘How so?’
‘That’s no business of yours – or of Phil Vernon’s, come to that.’
Isabel stared at him, chaotic thoughts chasing each other through her brain.
‘Robert – you did pay your debt to the Marquis, didn’t you?’
He flushed. ‘Ask your precious Philip. He’s seen the vowels.’
‘Oh.’ Weak with relief but still somehow anxious, she said, ‘Then how did you pay for the curricle?’
‘I’ve had a run of luck,’ replied Robert just a fraction too quickly. ‘It does happen, you know – especially when I’m not playing that devil Amberley.’
Isabel’s brow creased thoughtfully. She knew her brother very well indeed and certainly well enough to know when he was lying. Also, there was a great deal about Lord Amberley which did not seem to add up; for, in her opinion, a man who’d put himself out to look after his coachman or improve the lot of a lady he scarcely knew, didn’t sound a likely candidate for fleecing drunken youths. And if he was not, that only left one alternative that she could think of.
‘I don’t suppose,’ she mused, half to herself, ‘that Lord Amberley likes you well enough to return your vowels for nothing?’ And then, sickeningly, read the answer in her brother’s face. ‘Oh God – he did, didn’t he? And you let him. I don’t suppose you even argued.’
‘Of course I didn’t argue! Why should I?’ Robert knew better than to waste his breath on fruitless denial. ‘He can afford it. And it was his idea, not mine. He only did it because he didn’t want to feature in society as the next best thing to an ivory-turner.’
‘In that case he wasted his money,’ replied Isabel, quietly contemptuous. ‘Only, of course, the truth is that he didn’t want to feature that way to himself. If he cared for society’s opinion, he’d be making sure people knew – but he hasn’t, has he?’ She leaned back in her chair, hands pressed against her cheeks and gazed at him with helpless exasperation. ‘Oh Bob – what’s the matter with you? Have you no moral sense at all? Don’t you care that, in addition to cheating Philip, you’re causing him to dislike a man who’s done nothing to deserve it? And now you’ve spent the money and I can’t even tell you to pay it back.’
‘I’m glad you’ve worked that out,’ he retorted brazenly, ‘because I wouldn’t anyway. And you needn’t ask me to tell Vernon the truth because I won’t do that either. Amberley deserves everything he gets.’
She stood up and faced him resolutely. ‘Then I must do it.’
‘No! Bella, you can’t – what if Vernon tells someone? What if he tells everyone?’ He was frightened now. ‘Damn it, I’m your brother. You can’t want to see me ruined. And you owe me some loyalty.’
‘Perhaps. But you don’t deserve it, do you?’
Robert crossed the room to grasp her wrists, making sure it hurt.
‘Do you want to see me in the Fleet? A word of this and I’ll have a pack of damned tradesmen down on me like vultures. And what good will it do? You know I can’t pay either Vernon or Amberley – let alone both of them.’
Isabel looked at him out of stark brown eyes. ‘I have to tell Lord Philip. It’s my duty to do so – surely you can see that?’
‘No, I can’t. Your duty is to your family – to me.’ He released her hands and smiled coaxingly at her. ‘Bella, please. I’ll promise anything you ask if only you’ll keep quiet.’
She shook her head sadly. ‘I can’t trust you. I wish I could but I can’t.’
‘Yes, you can,’ he wheedled. ‘I’d have to keep my word, wouldn’t I? If I didn’t, you’d tell.’
She gave a shiver of distaste. Discovery of the full sum of his weakness and dishonesty made her feel physically ill. There was a long pause and then she said despairingly, ‘Oh very well. But don’t ever ask this sort of thing of me again for my silence makes me no better than you.’
‘I won’t.’ Grinning with relief, Robert lifted her hands to his lips only to have them snatched away.
‘And I want you to promise me two things,’ she went on relentlessly. ‘First, that you will never, under any circumstances, try to borrow money from Lord Philip again.’
He shrugged. ‘I can’t, can I? He wouldn’t lend it.’ Then, catching her eye, ‘Oh alright – I promise.’
‘Good. And second, that you’ll stop making mischief for Lord Amberley. Not just between him and Lord Philip – but generally. I want your word that you won’t do or say anything that will add to the trouble you’ve already caused. In fact, I want you to be as polite to him as it’s possible for you to be. Do you understand?’
He scowled and turned away. ‘Yes. Alright.’
‘Look at me, Robert.’ Isabel waited until he did so. ‘Now – give me your solemn word.’
For a second he hesitated and then, with a fulminating glance, said grittily, ‘Very well. I give you my word that I’ll leave Amberley to dig his own pit. Is that good enough for you? But if you breathe a word of any of this to a soul, I swear I’ll make you regret it!’
And with that, he flung out of the room, slamming the door behind him and leaving his weary sister to placate her conscience as best she could.
~ * * * ~
EIGHT
‘Phil – oh, Philip!’
Rosalind cast herself against her brother’s chest and hid her face in the folds of his cloak, brought perilously close to tears by the surprise of his arrival.
Faintly surprised by this reception, Philip hugged her whilst trying to peer down into her face. ‘Rose? Whatever’s the matter? Anyone would think I’d been away for a year on active service.’
The dark head moved in a gesture of negation.
‘It’s just that I didn’t expect you,’ she explained in muffled accents. ‘And I’m so glad you’ve come.’
Frowning slightly, his lordship grasped her shoulders and took a step back.
‘You’re upset and you don’t look yourself,’ he accused. ‘What’s wrong? Is it something to do with that fellow Amberley?’
Rosalind froze and then, as naturally as she could, slipped from his grip to turn away as a rapid flush stained her skin. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Exactly what I say,’ replied Philip grimly as he unfastened his cloak and tossed it over a chair. ‘You needn’t sound so surprised. I know perfectly well that he was here – and for a whole week.’
‘Yes. He left four days ago.’ Only four days, she thought ironically. It didn’t sound much unless you’d had to live through it. ‘Who told you? Oh – let me guess. Someone wrote to you? Emily Warriston?’
‘Who else?’
Rosalind’s mouth curled sardonically. ‘I’ll wager she couldn’t wait. Lord Amberley snubbed her beautifully – and Letty to
o. You would have enjoyed it.’
‘Very likely – but that’s not what I travelled from London to hear.’
‘Oh?’ She sat gracefully on a sofa. ‘What then?’
‘Don’t play games, Rose. I’m devilish out of temper and not in the mood for them. It’s been a difficult sort of a day.’ His lordship poured two glasses of wine and handed one to his sister and, as he did so, his eye lit upon a huge bowl of exotic hot-house blooms. His brow darkened with suspicion. ‘Where did those flowers come from? We don’t grow anything like that.’
‘No. The Marquis sent them from Amberley,’ replied Rosalind with evident pleasure. ‘Wasn’t it kind of him?’
Philip stared at the arrangement critically. ‘Mm … they’re a bit too gaudy, if you ask me.’
‘Well, I don’t suppose he chose them for colour. All I know is that they’re beautifully scented.’
Feeling himself justly reproved, Philip sat down and said abruptly, ‘Yes. I’m sorry. I think you’d better tell me all about my lord Marquis.’
‘I fully intend to – so there isn’t the least need for you to be so disagreeable. It’s simply that, since it’s quite a long story, I thought you might prefer not to be bombarded with it the instant you walked through the door,’ said Rosalind patiently. ‘However, Lord Amberley came here because he’d been held up on the road and his coachman had been shot. So – ‘
‘I know all that,’ her brother interrupted. ‘What I want you to tell me is how he conducted himself towards you. That Warriston cat says that the two of you were intimate but -- ‘
‘She would.’
‘-- but he says he behaved with perfect propriety,’ continued his single-minded lordship. ‘And though I don’t suppose --‘
‘He?’ cut in Rosalind incredulously. ‘Lord Amberley? You’ve seen him?’
‘Yes. Why should I not? Or did you think he wouldn’t wish to face me?’
Very carefully, she set her glass down. ‘When and where?’
Lord Philip eyed her irritably. ‘This morning. He called on me in Jermyn Street.’
‘Why?’
‘Why do you think?’
‘If I knew, I wouldn’t be asking. He left here for Amberley and he expected to be there for at least a week. If he cut short his stay to call on you in London, then it must have been for a reason. What did he say?’
‘A damned sight too much!’ replied Philip feelingly. ‘He is without doubt the most annoying, arrogant, meddlesome fellow it’s ever been my misfortune to meet.’
A spark of anger glowed in the violet eyes. ‘That’s nonsense. But it’s no more than I should have expected for he said that you didn’t like him.’
‘Oh did he? Well, he’s right – I don’t. And for good reason – though I don’t suppose he told you that part.’
‘No he didn’t – and I don’t want to hear it from you,’ returned Rosalind tartly. ‘When I hear the full story, I’d like it to be the full story – not the biased view which is all I’ll get from you!’
‘Ha!’ scoffed Philip. ‘I’ll bet he told you it was all some tragic misunderstanding.’
‘Well, if you think that, he’d have spoken no more than the truth because you must have a sadly inaccurate idea of his character. There’s nothing tragic about Lord Amberley and if you’ll take a word of advice, you won’t accept him at face value. He has an … unusual … sense of humour.’
‘Warped is the word I’d have used.’
‘Quite probably – but you’re just naturally hasty.’ She smiled suddenly and said coaxingly, ‘Try not to be prejudiced, Phil – as least until you know him a little better.’
‘As well as you do, you mean?’ There was a measure of disapproval in the sapphire gaze. ‘He appears to stand high in your estimation.’
‘Yes. He does.’ She paused and then added simply, ‘I’ve never met anyone like him before.’
An appalling prospect suddenly occurred to Lord Philip and it was with dire foreboding that he asked, ‘Did he flirt with you?’
Rosalind looked blank. ‘Did he what?’
‘Flirt with you – treat you with familiarity, pay you a lot of silly compliments and so on.’
She began to laugh. ‘Well, he did say that even though I can’t see my face I must have been told how beautiful it is – but that was less a compliment than a challenge. As for ‘so on’, I’m not at all sure. But I shouldn’t think that he can have done or I expect I’d have noticed. And the only time he was what you might describe as familiar was when he taught me to dance. But that was unavoidable and he did apologise for it.’
‘When he what?’ snapped Philip, thoroughly startled.
‘Taught me to dance. I thought you’d be surprised. And to tell the truth,’ she said reflectively, ‘I was rather surprised myself – not because he offered to teach me but because I didn’t think it was possible. In fact, there seem to be a number of things I’ve been mistaken about.’
‘Such as?’
‘Oh – walking in the snow and throwing snowballs. Silly things like that.’
Totally unable to picture the elegant Marquis playing in the snow like a schoolboy, Philip drew a long breath and said, ‘He’s beginning to sound like two different people. Either that, or one of us is a fool. And since you’re undoubtedly going to say that it’s me, you’d better start convincing me.’
‘Well, I’ll try.’ The dimple peeped and was gone. ‘But you mustn’t interrupt.’
‘Who – me?’ he asked, grinning reluctantly back at her. ‘Go on.’
So Rosalind talked and Philip made the rather surprising discovery that he had no desire to interrupt for, though the picture she drew of the Marquis was a wholly astonishing one, there could be no doubt that Amberley had achieved more for her in a week then Philip himself had done in twelve years. It was an uncomfortable thought.
‘It’s difficult for you to understand, perhaps,’ she concluded, faintly wistful, ‘but he treated me as a person. Everyone else puts my blindness first; he never did. And when I was inclined to do so, he wouldn’t let me. Do you see?’
Philip frowned down at his hands and his mouth was grim.
‘I think I’m beginning to. Tell me, Rose – he said you were in a cage. Has it seemed like that to you?’
She flushed a little. ‘Sometimes.’
‘And now?’
‘Now more than ever.’ She said it coolly, for how did you explain that, now the long tolerance was over, you had gone back to the beginning again and were living with your sightlessness in helpless, frustrating rage? ‘But it’s no one’s fault, Phil – so there’s no need for you to feel guilty.’
‘Amberley wasn’t so generous,’ he replied slowly. ‘And though I’ll not deny that he made me blazingly angry at the time, it’s starting to look as if he was right. It doesn’t absolve him of – of other things – and I doubt that I’ll ever actually like the man, but I suppose I must be grateful that he’s opened my eyes to what he described as my ‘insensitivity’.’ He paused for a moment and looked steadily across at her. ‘His lordship is of the opinion that you’d be happier in Jermyn Street with me. Would you?’
Rosalind’s breath drained slowly away and she was suddenly very pale. The idea dazzled, beckoned and terrified all at the same time – but fright seemed to have the upper hand; only, just as she opened her mouth to say ‘I can’t’, it was as if the Marquis stood at her side, replying with laughter in his voice, ‘Can’t? Why not?’ … and the words died in her throat. Instead, she said weakly, ‘I don’t know. I’d like to … but I’m afraid. It – it’s a big step to take.’
Philip nodded. ‘I know – and so I told Amberley. But he behaved as though it were no more than a walk around the garden. He doesn’t seem to have any understanding of the difficulties it would present to you.’
‘Actually, he does,’ said Rosalind quietly. ‘He understands very well indeed – which is why he pretends he doesn’t. It’s a clever and extremely effective technique.’ And
then she fell silent as two important implications began to dawn on her.
Lord Amberley, it seemed, wanted her to go to London; and, if she went, she could hope to meet him again, just as he had promised. And was it not perhaps a sort of test? A question of whether she had enough courage to leave her safe haven for the strange world outside? Rosalind began, suddenly, to feel very peculiar indeed and she drew a deep, bracing breath.
‘I shall probably make an utter fool of myself,’ she said shakily, ‘but if I don’t try, I shall never know. And that would be a pity.’
With his new-born insight, Philip recognised the effort she was making and, like any soldier, gallantry was a thing he could appreciate.
‘Do I,’ he asked smiling, ‘take that as an acceptance?’
‘Yes – I think so. In fact, I’m sure of it. Later on I may even be glad as well.’ She achieved a wry smile. ‘But how Broody’s going to take it, I just can’t think.’
*
As it turned out, Broody took it rather well – largely because, since no one in the household felt equal to the task of caring for him in Rosalind’s absence, he made the journey with them. Oakleigh waved him off with active enthusiasm whilst indulging in the optimistic hope that he wouldn’t come back; and Broody set out on his travels in an unusually amicable frame of mind occasioned by the inborn certainty that this was what parrots were made for.
He liked the chaise and its motion excited him. Swaying rhythmically on his perch, he peered coyly through the bars of his cage at Lord Philip and then spat an experimental seed. Philip cast him a withering glance and brushed the seed from his cravat.
‘Wark!’ screeched Broody happily and walked sideways along the perch with his head on one side. ‘Damn the Captain – sod the mate!’ And, carefully selecting another seed, spat again.
‘Did we have to travel with this wretched bird?’ asked his lordship, picking the seed out of his hair.
Rosalind grinned. ‘Yes. He behaves very badly when I’m not there and it wouldn’t be fair to inflict him on Nancy and your valet.’
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