She gasped. ‘Whatever are you doing?’
His eyes glittered in the moonlight which lapped the ornamental balustrade; when he spoke, his voice was rough with desire.
‘I came to say goodbye, Christabel, but I find I can only do so in private, just you and I alone together for a few moments.’
The soft evening air washed over them, the smell of Albertine roses on the wall below drowning them in a sweet perfume. A slight breeze flicked her curls across her cheek and his hand went automatically to brush them back. He stopped himself.
‘I came to say goodbye,’ he repeated, ‘and to wish you well for the future.’
The sincerity in his voice was unmistakable. His anger had gone. He had accepted her betrothal and whatever schemes he’d been devising were finished. This was the outcome she’d craved during the past days of misery. Yet she was filled with the greatest sorrow—in just a few minutes she must watch him walk from the room and out of her life for ever.
As if reading her mind, he said gently, ‘You deserve to live happily. I should not have hurt you, you of all people.’
She could see this sentiment came from deep within his heart and wondered what other feelings might lie beneath that calm, elegant exterior. It took her a while to answer and when she did, her voice sounded barely above a whisper.
‘As we both know, my own past has not been free of blame.’
‘We were young and foolish, and there I should have left it. But when I saw you again…’ He shrugged his shoulders expressively. ‘It was all up with me. The old grievances began to live once more and I seemed powerless to slay my demons.’
‘And now?’
‘I haven’t exactly slain them, but they’re back under lock and key.’
His smile was awry, his face shadowed despite his best efforts. She had a crazy urge to take him in her arms and kiss him back into happiness. The shocking thought rendered her silent for a moment.
‘You need fear no more intrusions from me,’ he said, thinking she required reassurance. ‘You will have a splendid future, I’m sure, and I wish you all the happiness that is possible.’
‘You were always a generous spirit, Richard,’ she whispered.
‘And you were always a loving girl, as I’m sure Sir Julian will find. He once said that he considered himself blessed to have won you for his wife and he was right to think so.’
His face moved closer to hers, his eyes hungrily devouring her delicate beauty. She felt herself tremble and move instinctively closer to him. His fingers touched her hand lightly and trailed their way up her bare arm. Then they were in her hair winding, stroking, caressing the fiery curls. Both hands moved to cup her face and he gazed intently into her eyes, absorbed in their emerald depths.
‘One last kiss,’ he whispered.
She raised her face to his, her mouth soft and yielding beneath the hard pressure of his lips. His arms were round her pulling her body into his, moulding her to himself.
‘Christy,’ he groaned, ‘what have we done?’
His use of her pet name demolished any remaining resistance. His mouth once more fastened on hers, his lips insistent, and then his tongue was gently pressing her lips apart, delicately exploring her mouth until she wanted nothing more than to feel him, all of him, close to her and for ever. For long minutes they were oblivious to everything. They did not see the curtain being quietly lifted and two pairs of eyes staring at them, Sir Julian’s in horror and Sophia’s in jubilation. When they emerged from the enclave, shaken from their encounter, neither observer was to be seen. Sir Julian had taken a hasty leave of Lady Tallis and Sophia, the picture of innocence, had joined a new set for the country dance which was just then striking up.
For the few hours that remained of the ball, Christabel was glad to have plenty to do. There were still refreshments to be ordered from the kitchen, damsels to partner, coats to be retrieved and farewells to say; almost anything would do to keep at bay the deep throb of pain which threatened to crush her. Richard had gone. Those words danced blackly in her mind’s eye and had constantly to be repressed. It was only when the last person had been escorted to the last carriage that she could no longer hide from her grief: Richard was gone and his leaving was for ever.
There was no sign of Benedict, but her mother and sister were in the hall, looking tired from their individual exertions, but both pleased with the evening’s success.
‘Thank you, Bel, for all your hard work today.’ Lady Harriet clasped her hand warmly. ‘Without you things would not have gone so smoothly. I’m sure Sophia is most grateful,’ and she looked meaningfully at her younger daughter.
Sophia did not respond and there was an uncomfortable silence.
‘What happened to Sir Julian, Mama?’ Christabel asked lightly. ‘He seemed to disappear in a puff of smoke.’
Her joke fell lamely on the air, but her mother smiled and said mildly, ‘He left shortly after supper, my dear. I’m not entirely sure why. He said something about another engagement. It seemed rather odd to me, but I thought you might know.’
‘No, indeed, I understood he would be present for the whole evening. How very strange!’
‘He seemed a little distressed,’ Lady Harriet said thoughtfully, ‘but I could be wrong.’
‘You’re not wrong, Mama. He was distressed.’ Sophia had come instantly to life and was ready for the kill.
‘Why, whatever has happened?’ her sister queried in astonishment.
‘I don’t know how you have the nerve to stand there and ask that!’ Sophia was almost jumping with fury.
Her mother looked questioningly at a bemused Christabel, but no help was forthcoming.
‘Explain yourself, Sophia,’ Lady Harriet commanded crossly.
‘If you really want me to I will, but I would think Bel should be the one to do the explaining. She’s the one who’s engaged to Sir Julian, but can’t seem to stop kissing other men.’
‘What!’ Christabel and her mother exclaimed in unison.
But it was Christabel who turned pale. Sir Julian must have seen her kissing Richard and naturally it was Sophia who had led him to that window and ensured her disgrace. Her sister must have been watching them all the time and seized her golden opportunity the minute it came.
‘What is this, Bel?’ her mother was demanding.
‘Richard came to say goodbye, Mama,’ she began calmly. ‘He was bidding me farewell.’
‘Hmph!’ Sophia interrupted crudely. ‘Some farewell! You were in his arms and he was kissing you in a quite scandalous way.’
‘Christabel, is this true?’
She did not answer her mother, but turned away and began to climb the stairs in silence. She was sick at heart and there was nothing she could say in her defence.
At eleven o’clock the next morning Sir Julian Edgerton presented himself at Mount Street and asked to speak to the eldest daughter of the house. He was in a chastened mood, but also determined. He had sat up late into the night, thinking through his predicament, and had come to a decision. He must see Christabel Tallis immediately before he changed his mind. He only hoped that meeting her again would not throw him off track.
When the maidservant scratched at Christabel’s door with Sir Julian’s name on her lips, she braced herself for what she knew would be a distressing interview. She had been up and dressed for many hours; in fact, she’d hardly slept, going over the events of the previous evening in her mind and preparing herself for the likely outcome. Now the moment had arrived. She walked slowly down the stairs, her serene expression and graceful carriage masking her discomfort. Sir Julian, looking towards the staircase, saw a vision of the palest pink tulle descending towards him. He drew himself up resolutely.
‘Good morning, Miss Tallis.’ No Christabel now, she reflected.
‘Good morning, Sir Julian,’ she responded equally formally. ‘You wished to speak privately with me?’ He was grateful that she had come straight to the point.
‘Would that
be possible?’ He cleared his throat nervously.
She led the way into the library, a room normally deserted for most of the day. The servants had already cleaned and they were unlikely to be disturbed. In any case she imagined the discussion would not take very long.
‘Miss Tallis,’ Sir Julian began, clearing his throat again. ‘We have known each other for many months now and you must be aware that I have grown to esteem you highly…and to love you.’ He almost mumbled these last few words. Christabel inclined her head slightly.
‘I had hoped,’ Sir Julian began again with difficulty, ‘that we were well enough suited to contemplate making our future lives together. When you accepted my proposal, I was the happiest man alive. However…’ and he appeared to be choosing his words carefully ‘…it would seem that you were not of the same mind.’
She bowed her head. She must say something to this honourable man who was clearly struggling to make sense of a world turned upside down. The future he had so blithely anticipated lay now in ruins.
‘Sir Julian, please believe me when I say that I also shared that hope.’
‘Then I do not understand what has occurred.’ His face lost its fixed expression and collapsed into a bewildered sadness; he looked hopelessly out of his depth and Christabel’s heart smote her.
‘I fear it will be no comfort for you to learn that I am as confused,’ she offered. ‘However, you should know that the painful situation that has arisen is no reflection on you. You have been wholly generous in your conduct. This is entirely my fault.’
‘You are most kind, Miss Tallis, and it relieves me to know that I could not have done anything more to make our betrothal a success. But it leaves us with a problem.’
‘There is no problem, Sir Julian. In the circumstances it is impossible for us to marry and I imagine you came here today to tell me so. The notice of our betrothal has not yet been sent to the papers and only a few people know of our plans.’
Sir Julian looked pained. ‘I regret that you are right in your surmise. After what has occurred I feel that neither of us could give ourselves wholeheartedly to a marriage. But what shall we say to those people who have been told we are to wed?’
‘We will simply say that we found that after all we were not suited to each other.’
Sir Julian turned this over in his mind and then smiled faintly. ‘That sounds pleasantly vague. And people can pick it over at will and make what they wish of it.’
‘Exactly.’
‘As always, Miss Tallis, you have the perfect touch.’ He looked regretfully at the beautiful woman who stood before him.
‘Not always, Sir Julian,’ she reminded him gently.
‘Quite so,’ he said and hurriedly turned towards the door.
The interview was at an end. They had survived it and without permanent scars on either side. Christabel breathed a sigh of relief. Now that it was done, a burden seemed to have been lifted from her. Her future life would be difficult, but she was no longer living a lie.
She followed him out into the hall and almost fell over the figure of Sophia, who had clearly been loitering outside the library door, agog to see what had happened and ready with sympathy for Sir Julian.
‘Miss Sophia, good morning,’ he said without much enthusiasm. The strident tones of violet silk hit him in the eyes and he winced. He had been hoping to escape from the house without having to encounter any other of the family.
‘How nice to see you, Sir Julian,’ Sophia chirruped gaily as if nothing of any import had happened. ‘Are you intending to walk in the park? It’s such wonderful weather again, it’s a waste to spend it indoors.’
He had been planning to return to his own home and lose himself in paperwork. He needed to obliterate this most painful meeting of his entire life. But Sophia was smiling encouragingly at him and shafts of sunlight flooded the hall from the transom over the door. Perhaps after all a walk in the park with a congenial companion might be beneficial. Sophia had shown great enthusiasm for his latest project, the foundation of an orphanage in Shoreditch, and her opinion on a number of pressing issues which had emerged since their last discussion might be valuable.
‘If you would care to accompany me to Hyde Park, I would be delighted, Miss Sophia,’ he responded obligingly.
She snatched up her bonnet from the chair and was at his side in an instant. It was clear that she was well prepared for this moment and Sir Julian was flattered that she had planned to devote herself to keeping him company. At least one of the Tallis sisters held him in esteem. He reflected on how much time he had spent with Sophia lately when Christabel had been unable or unwilling to be by his side. In hindsight those frequent absences were significant. And he had grown to like the younger girl. Admittedly her taste in dress was a little unusual, but she seemed willing to listen to whatever small suggestions he made. Above all he felt flattered by her interest in his affairs: she always gave him her full attention. There was merit attached to a girl who was not the most sought-after belle in society. And merit, a small whispering voice added, to a girl who was not prone to sexual flirtation.
Lady Harriet had come into the hall as the pair left. She looked questioningly at Christabel still standing with her hand on the library door.
‘Mama, I have to tell you that Sir Julian and I have decided that we do not after all suit.’ The phrase ran glibly off her tongue.
‘Do not suit!’ her mother parroted. ‘What can you mean?’
‘Just that. The betrothal is over.’
Lady Harriet sighed heavily. ‘After what occurred last night, I suppose that Sir Julian could do little else.’
‘It was a mutual decision.’
‘Precipitated by your reckless conduct! Whatever were you thinking?’
She ignored the reference to her encounter with Richard and said soothingly, ‘It’s for the best, Mama.’
Lady Harriet looked bewildered. ‘But why in heaven’s name, Christabel? Everything seemed to be going so well between you.’
‘“Seemed” is the right word. We were never really suited. I fear that for a short time I persuaded myself otherwise.’
‘And now you have a second broken engagement to your name. I hope you realise what that signifies in the eyes of society.’
‘If you mean that I have no earthly chance of ever finding a husband now, yes, I do realise. But believe me, Mama, there are worse things in life.’
Lady Harriet groaned and twisted her hands. Her beloved daughter had committed social suicide and there was nothing she could do to rescue her.
‘Don’t be too upset—’ Christabel warmed to the task of rallying her mother ‘—you might just catch Sir Julian for another Tallis!’
Lady Harriet’s expression was fiercely indignant and it was well for her daughter that a servant appeared at that moment with a note in her hand. The maid was unable to read, but was clearly agitated by having found the paper prominently displayed on Lady Harriet’s small writing desk. Irritated, her mistress snatched the note and dismissed the maidservant. She scanned the brief message and her face drained of all colour; she looked as though she were about to crumble to the floor. Christabel stepped swiftly forwards.
‘Mama, what is it?’
Chapter Eight
She took the note from her mother’s trembling hand and read it quickly. ‘I don’t understand. He’s gone to Paris? Benedict?’
‘How could he?’ her mother wailed. ‘What more will befall us?’
‘But what is this about Domino?’
‘It’s evident, isn’t it? They’ve eloped.’
‘Forgive me, Mama, but that has to be a nonsense. Benedict eloping? He’s never shown the slightest interest in females.’
‘I am not at all sure that’s so. He seems to have spent a great deal of time with this girl lately.’
Christabel thought back over the last few weeks and had to agree: Benedict meeting Domino at Almack’s, laughing with her at the picnic, the regular rides in the park and
then last night at Sophia’s ball, his fixed concentration on the girl. But her lover? That still appeared unlikely.
She said as much to her mother, but Lady Harriet refused to be comforted.
‘If he is not her lover, then what is he doing going to Paris with her? It’s clear to me that they are eloping.’
‘Mama, even if they wished to marry each other, why would they elope? Wouldn’t it be more rational for Benedict simply to ask Domino’s guardian for permission to wed her?’
‘That’s just it!’ her mother produced triumphantly. ‘He must know there would be little chance of obtaining permission to marry. The girl is only seventeen and, I understand, a great heiress. Benedict hardly figures as the most eligible suitor.’ A sudden dreadful thought struck. ‘Do you think that he’s eloping for her money?’
‘How can that be? Benedict has lacked for nothing in his life.’
Her mother did not reply immediately, but began an agitated walk up and down the hall, her mind beset by this new enormity.
‘I haven’t said anything to you, Bel,’ she began finally in a faltering voice, ‘but I’ve become worried over some of his activities. I suspect that he has begun to gamble more seriously than we know. What if he’s plunged himself into debt, huge debt, and hasn’t wanted to tell us?’ She shook her head in despair at the thought and her tears began to gather.
‘Not even Benedict would be foolish enough to think he could elope with an under-age girl and then make free with her inheritance!’
Her mother appeared deaf to these rousing words. She sank into the large leather chesterfield that stood against the wall and stared blindly into space. When her daughter bent down and tried to hug her, she began to rock backwards and forwards, keening quietly; she seemed to have disappeared into a nightmare world of her own conjecture. Christabel was alarmed. Her mother’s self-possession was renowned and had survived countless family troubles. But this new tragedy to strike Mount Street, coming so quickly after the events of the previous evening, had clearly overwhelmed her.
The Earl Plays With Fire Page 15
