The Earl Plays With Fire

by Isabelle Goddard

  Her sadness fingered him with its hurt. The fight had gone out of her and he was responsible. He had destroyed the fire and the spirit that he had so loved.

  ‘But—’ he tried to rally once more.

  ‘No “but”, the game is played out, Richard. This is its end.’

  She walked slowly away and he watched immobile as Stebbings helped her remount and together continue along the bridleway. He was as certain as he could be that she still loved him, but in the end he had been powerless to keep her by his side. He knew that nothing he ever said would make any difference. The game between them was indeed played out.

  He flung himself into the saddle and struck out across the park, his mind tormented by the destructive passions that had brought him to this pass. It mattered not where he was heading—there was nowhere to go. He had striven to convince Christabel of his love: he’d been so sure that he would be able to win her over. But all his energy and resolution had not been enough. He had thought to free himself of her influence for ever and now when he’d come to realise that to be free of her was the last thing he wanted, it was too late. She would not think of a future with him.

  Trotting blindly ahead, it was some while before he heard the voices hailing him. A carriage drew up alongside and he slowly emerged from a brown study.

  ‘Good morning, Lord Veryan, how delightful to see you back in town, and so soon! Has Cornwall already lost its appeal?’

  It was Lady Blythe with her friend and neighbour, Miss Anstruther, and sitting squashed between them, Domino, startled by his presence, but smiling shyly.

  He made no answer and Lady Blythe went on, ‘We thought we would explore Mr Nash’s new project, but there is a sad absence of company in the park.’

  ‘I imagine most of the ton will wait until the Regent’s vision is more nearly realised,’ he replied, trying for an easy tone.

  ‘As we seem to have the place to ourselves, Lord Veryan, I wonder if you would be good enough to walk with us for a while.’

  ‘Of course, Lady Blythe,’ he replied gallantly, though wishing himself a million miles away.

  He handed the two elder ladies down from the carriage and they began to walk slowly ahead, still animatedly discussing the topic of the empty park. He turned to help Domino, but she had already scrambled down the steps. Offering her his arm, they followed in the footsteps of her aunt and companion. Neither spoke for some while, but when he glanced down at her, he found her eyes anxiously scanning his face.

  ‘I’m surprised to see you here, Richard. I thought you’d left for home and would never return to London.’

  ‘I thought so, too,’ he replied evenly, ‘but unforeseen circumstances brought me back.’

  She did not feel bold enough to enquire what those circumstances might be, but she was struck by the fixed look on his face. She had never before seen him looking so grim or so dispirited.

  ‘Is there something wrong?’ she asked at length and when he did not reply, repeated more urgently, ‘What is the matter, Richard?’

  He had no wish to unburden himself to a girl barely more than a child, but her sweet face was looking up at him in genuine concern and his heart was sore. He was unable to repress his churning thoughts and found himself describing the recent encounter with Christabel. He was succinct, skimming over his campaign to prove his former sweetheart unworthy and deliberately avoiding any mention of the role Domino had unwittingly played. She must have guessed something of the truth but gave no sign.

  ‘I’m a fool, Domino!’ he finished. ‘I must not repine. I must learn to accept Miss Tallis’s decision.’

  She squeezed his arm in sympathy and said impulsively, ‘How can you? You love her, Richard. I’ve always known that. I think that perhaps I knew it before you did. And I’m quite sure that she returns your love. The engagement with Sir Julian never looked likely to stick, or so Aunt Loretta said.’

  ‘Lady Blythe is most perceptive,’ he muttered a little sourly. ‘But it’s clear that Christabel prefers a single life to being with me.’

  ‘I’m sure that isn’t so,’ she protested. ‘Nobody could!’ and then blushed bright pink in confusion.

  He ignored this telltale comment and said gently, ‘Your good wishes do you credit, my dear, but I fear I’ve made a complete mess of things. There’s no chance now that Miss Tallis will change her mind.’

  ‘Then we must make her change her mind,’ she said defiantly. He stared at her, his dark brows raised in astonishment.

  ‘You must make her change her mind,’ she amended quickly.

  ‘I wish that were possible, but it’s out of the question.’

  An enigmatic ‘hmm’ was her only response. While they had been deep in conversation, the sky had clouded over and a blustery wind had begun to blow. Loretta Blythe signalled to her groom just as the first drops of rain began to fall. The ladies were swiftly handed into the carriage and Richard bade them a brief farewell. Looking back over her shoulder, Domino saw him riding away in the opposite direction, a solitary figure amid a rain-drenched landscape. She was sorry to leave him so evidently unhappy, but she needed time alone. She needed time to think, to contrive a solution to his difficulties, for she was quite certain there was a way through the maze.

  Christabel, too, spent a good deal of time alone in the following days, seeking sanctuary from the prying eyes and listening ears of the household. She wanted more than anything to quit London. The triviality of the Season had never sat well with her and any pleasure she’d had in it was now dust. But she could not go home. Richard was unlikely to stay long at the Grosvenor Square mansion and she could not bear to run the risk of meeting him in Cornwall. She felt listless and unbearably cross. Her mother put it down to Sophia’s forthcoming nuptials; the excitement of purchasing bride clothes, planning the ceremony, organising the honeymoon, had taken over Mount Street. It must be a difficult situation for her beautiful elder daughter to bear, even though she had brought this fate on herself.

  But Christabel was immune to the upheavals permeating the rest of the household. If pressed, she would have acknowledged a mild happiness that Sophia was no longer proving so intractable, but beyond that she had little interest in the wedding preparations. Instead she was sick to the very heart. Richard had been right when he’d said that she loved him. His physical presence shattered her with an intensity of desire, but this ache, this longing, was more than simple lust. Lust she knew. It was what had destroyed her first betrothal to him. This was love. She loved him, all of him. She loved him but she had no faith in him; that was the nub of it. However much he protested, she could never trust him again, and without trust there could be no lasting bond.

  Her mind endlessly played out the conflict, trapping her in a disordered world of her own. It was with only half an ear that she listened to Sir Julian as he detailed his elaborate plans for the family to celebrate his new engagement. This was to include a splendid dinner at his town mansion, followed by an evening at the Drury Lane theatre where he had managed to obtain precious tickets to see Edmund Kean performing in a much-acclaimed Hamlet. Sir Julian still felt awkward at the very rapid transfer of his affections and was hoping that a dazzling social occasion would smooth any feathers that were still ruffled. He need not have worried. Christabel felt only gratitude that she’d been spared a loveless marriage and her mother was relieved that one of her daughters at least had found an eligible husband.

  The evening’s dinner and theatre visit was to be the Season’s last social event for the family. In a few days they would leave London for Rosings so that Sophia could be introduced to her new home for the first time. From there they would travel on to Cornwall to make final preparations for the wedding. Unexpectedly her sister had rejected a smart London ceremony in favour of being married from Lamorna and it augured well for her new life, Christabel thought, that the city had lost some of its magic allure.

  Sir Julian’s town house stood imposingly at the corner of Brook Street and their arrival tha
t night was greeted by liveried footmen at its entrance, holding aloft lighted torches. Once inside two more footmen lined the hall and relieved the ladies of their cloaks, then bowed them into a drawing room glittering in the light of a dozen chandeliers, which ran the length of the ceiling. Heavy velour furnishings in the deepest red, ornamented with gold piping, completed the room’s opulence. She felt overpowered by so much luxury, but Sophia, relishing these evident trappings of wealth, did a small dance of congratulation in her head. Sir Julian himself handed round glasses of champagne and made ready for a considered but lengthy toast to his future bride.

  The dinner that followed was as lavish as the surroundings, one laden course after another. Tureens of soup and a series of entrees were removed for platters of baked turbot and salmon, followed in turn by dishes of roast sirloin and goose with sides of French beans, peas and asparagus. Once his guests had eaten their fill of these delights, Sir Julian’s well-trained staff whisked away the starched linen table covering and an assortment of pastries made their appearance alongside a chafing dish of pancakes, creams, jellies, ices and small bowls of preserved fruits.

  The room was airless and Christabel ate sparingly while trying hard to maintain her part in the empty trivialities of table talk. It was with relief that she heard the carriage being announced that was to take them to the main attraction of the evening.

  At the theatre Sir Julian had ensured that they had seats in one of the most comfortable boxes available, with an excellent view of the stage. Even so she quickly opted for a chair towards the back, hoping in the darkness to be left to her own thoughts. Until the lights went down, though, she must force herself to show enjoyment. She looked around the auditorium at the array of costumes and colours which shimmered beneath the theatre’s blazing lights. The buzz of conversation was almost deafening, the noise hanging overhead in the heavy atmosphere. Glancing to her left, she thought she glimpsed Domino de Silva in an adjoining box and was about to remark on it to her mother who sat alongside her when Sir Julian turned to them, holding his finger to his lips.

  ‘The curtain’s going up!’

  Contrary to her expectation, she had rapidly become immersed in the play. Whether it was Kean’s electrifying performance or just that her overwrought mind sought some kind of relief she didn’t know, but an hour had passed on wings. Before she realised it, an interval was being called.

  Their small party filtered slowly out of the box and into the wide carpeted space which encircled the rear of the auditorium. Many other patrons were already taking a turn and attempting to find a little fresh air. It had steadily become more oppressive as the play proceeded, and a thunderstorm appeared likely. She saw Domino out of the corner of her eye walking nearby with Lady Blythe, both women fanning themselves vigorously. Quite how it happened, she was unsure, but in a trice it seemed that her mother was conversing animatedly with Lady Blythe while she found herself walking arm in arm with Domino. After Richard’s admission that the girl had been an unwitting pawn, she felt uneasy in her company. Yet she also felt impelled to talk with her; above all she needed to hear that the young woman had not suffered irreparably from his intrigue.

  They were walking slowly along the wide corridor, their steps carefully keeping time, when she ventured her first remark.

  ‘This has been a most enjoyable evening. Such a pleasant surprise to see you again, Domino, and this time in more comfortable circumstances.’

  ‘Indeed, yes,’ the girl rejoined quietly. ‘Our last meeting was not at all a happy one.’

  ‘And how have you been since your return from Dover?’ The question was commonplace, but she could not bring herself to hazard more.

  ‘I’ve been well, thank you, Miss Tallis.’

  The uncertain tone did not match her words. She was evidently troubled and the ghost of Richard rose between them. But Christabel was saved from having to probe further when the girl continued, ‘I’ve wanted to thank you properly for rescuing me from my foolishness. I know I should have called on you immediately, but I felt too ashamed after the trouble I caused for Benedict.’

  ‘You need not worry about Benedict. He got himself into trouble and it’s far better that he is in Cornwall learning from my father than racketing around town. You’ve no need either to thank me.’

  ‘Indeed I have, I can’t thank you enough; you saved me from scandal when you could have simply turned away.’

  They had once more reached Sir Julian’s box and Domino paused her steps. Her planned encounter with Christabel had so far gone smoothly, but there was a good deal more to be accomplished before she could walk away. She touched Christabel on the arm in a gently restraining gesture and said slowly, ‘I don’t fully understand why you came after us, but I think that it was partly for Richard’s sake.’

  Christabel made no response. It seemed to Domino that now his name was out in the open the beautiful woman beside her had become strangely paralysed. She appeared unable to move or to speak. She was looking blindly ahead at the theatre box, where the door stood ajar, and seemed to want nothing more than to seek refuge in its shadowy depths.

  Sensing that her quarry was about to turn tail, Domino said impulsively, ‘There was never anything more than friendship between us, you know. I was infatuated, that’s all, a naive romance—nothing more. Poor Richard, he had much to bear with me, but he always behaved impeccably.’

  ‘I’m glad to know that.’ Christabel’s voice stuttered into life. ‘But after all that has happened to you in London, are you truly happy to be here still?’

  ‘Why do you ask, Miss Tallis?’

  ‘Forgive me, but on the few occasions I’ve glimpsed you lately, you’ve been looking a little pale, a little anxious. But that’s probably my imagination running away with me.’

  ‘No!’ Domino said quickly, delighted that her plan was at last unfolding successfully. ‘It’s not your imagination. I wasn’t telling the truth just now when I said I was happy. Things have not been well with me lately, but it has nothing to do with Richard.’ She hoped that she was proving to be a convincing liar.

  ‘What then?’

  ‘May I confide in you, Miss Tallis—Christabel?’

  Christabel nodded assent but privately took herself to task. She was sure that she did not want to hear this.

  ‘Since I returned from that stupid flight, I’ve felt trapped.’

  Domino was speaking so quietly that she had to bend towards the younger girl to catch her words.

  ‘Aunt Loretta watches me all the time. I know I can’t hope to be trusted completely after my flight, but she spies on my every single movement. I have absolutely no freedom.’

  Christabel looked shocked. ‘Surely you must be mistaken. Lady Blythe has always seemed to be the most indulgent of guardians.’

  ‘She may have been once, but that escapade changed everything. She is nervous of my father, you know, and desperate to make sure that nothing else goes awry during my visit here.’

  ‘But spying?’

  ‘She observes me constantly. And she opens all my messages and makes sure that I receive only visitors that she is aware of.’

  Glancing across at Lady Blythe still deep in conversation with her mother, Christabel could not help looking sceptical. Desperate to convince her, the girl threw out what she hoped was a clinching line.

  ‘She says she will even accompany me to Spain when I leave in a few weeks’ time.’

  ‘But surely that’s an excellent idea. You will need a chaperon on your journey and who could be a more comfortable companion than your aunt?’

  ‘Not at all. She will be watching me closely and then will tell tales to my relatives, so that after her return to London they will continue to keep me fast. I will enjoy no liberty whatsoever.’

  ‘But your father, can he not intervene on your behalf?’

  ‘My father is thousands of miles away and the family has always said that he is far too lenient with me. When my mother died, they pressured him to send m
e back to Spain to be raised as a “proper” young lady. He resisted and kept me with him. This will be their revenge—they’ll keep me locked up, I know,’ she finished triumphantly.

  ‘Don’t you think you may be exaggerating?’ Christabel suggested gently.

  ‘A little, perhaps, but my life in Spain will not be happy. If only I could prevent Aunt Loretta from travelling with me and poisoning minds against me, I might persuade my relatives to believe my story. Maybe then I could enjoy living in Madrid.’

  The interval bell rang sharply and it was time to return to their seats. Christabel took the young girl’s hands in a farewell clasp, but she felt powerless to help her. The rest of the play seemed to pass in a blur. In some measure she felt responsible for Domino’s plight. If she had not intervened in that earlier journey…but she could never have guessed that Loretta Blythe would treat her niece so badly. After their return from Dover, Lady Blythe had certainly scolded Domino soundly, that was to be expected, but she’d seemed too relieved to have her back safely to dwell long on the girl’s reckless conduct. It was true that lately Domino was never without her aunt at her side—a proof of their closeness, she’d thought. Surely the situation could not be as bad as the girl had painted.

  Yet she had been looking anxious and ailing ever since her return to London and it seemed clear that it was not Richard’s perfidy that was troubling her. She had it on Domino’s own authority that he had not deceived her and had always behaved towards her as a gentleman. She felt cheered by this revelation. It meant she could think better of him even if she still could not trust him.

  Meanwhile Domino had resumed her seat beside Lady Blythe, well pleased with her evening’s work. Her aunt looked questioningly at her, but she simply smiled a sunny response. Better Aunt Loretta knew nothing of her intentions. It was time to proceed to the next stage of her plan; only one or two obstacles to clear and it would be complete. The roll of thunder which just then reverberated through the building was a fitting signal, she thought, for the denouement to come.