An Unreasonable Match

by Sylvia Andrew

  "Ye...es."

  "It's time you learned how much more pleasant a little light dalliance, a few light-hearted kisses between friends can be."

  "I don't think I want to try any more kisses. They're too...too unsettling."

  Lord Dungarran looked regretful. "No kisses? Never? Not of any kind? Not even between friends?"

  She said nervously, "Well, not another like the... the last. The first two were pleasant enough. But we must get on with the transcriptions." She sat down and pulled one of the pages towards her with determination.

  He regarded her bent head with a smile in his eyes. "You're quite right, of course. That's what we're here for." He returned to his table, and took up his pen. After a few minutes he said thoughtfully, "These Pentacle papers look to be quite different from the rest. Wouldn't you agree, Hester?"

  "I haven't got very far, but yes, they seem to be a report on an exchange of letters..." When Lady Martindale appeared they were each busy with a bundle of papers, and once again the only noise was the scratching of pens.

  In the evening they went to a less formal affair at the house of one of Lady Martindale's friends. Lowell and his friends were also invited and Hester was looking forward to relaxing in their undemanding company. Dungarran invited her as usual to the first dance, and as usual she accepted with a show of reluctance. But this time the reluctance was not completely feigned. They had worked harmoniously enough during the day, lost in the importance of the work they were doing. But outside their room, as soon as they were physically close to each other Hester remembered the feel of the tall body dominating hers that morning, her astonishingly fiery response, and she was immediately self-conscious.

  "Look at me, Miss Perceval," said Dungarran as they made their way up the set. "I am not an ogre."

  "No, of course not. It's just that...just that..."

  "You are remembering this morning, no doubt. I thought you had decided to forget it? That we were friends again."

  "It's not so easy," replied Hester with spirit. "I am not as used to such occurrences as you obviously are."

  For a moment they were relatively isolated at one end of the set. "If you are talking of the first two 'occurrences'," said Robert Dungarran, "then I would agree with you. Age and experience make it inevitable. But the third kiss..." He shook his head with a fleeting echo of the morning's bewilderment. "Would you believe me if I told you that I resent its effect as much as you do? It is most unlikely to happen again."

  "That, sir," said Hester as they rejoined the progression down the set, "is just as well!"

  When the dance was over she excused herself to Lady Martindale and joined Lowell at the other end of the room with a sigh of relief. Here was someone uncomplicated, familiar and dear to her. With Lowell she could be completely herself without having to act a part or pretend. Perhaps in his company she might forget the curious ache which was rapidly developing inside her. She shook herself mentally and set her mind on enjoyment. Within minutes she Was part of a laughing crowd.

  * * *

  "Enchanting, is she not?"

  Dungarran turned. The Comte de Landres was standing at his shoulder, his eye on a figure in red and white at the other end of the room. Hester was wearing one of her muslin dresses, but had put over it a short-sleeved, wine red velvet top. Her golden head and the striking contrast of her dress were easily discernible among the young people surrounding her.

  Dungarran looked at them all with a jaundiced eye. Hester had danced with her brother, then they had spent long minutes talking animatedly. After that she had turned to a friend of Lowell's with a smile and danced with him. They had returned to the group and started chatting again. At that point Dungarran had decided to stop watching, and had invited an accredited beauty, one of the Season's successes, to join him in the quadrille. The girl had twittered her way through every movement of the dance, and he had returned her to her chaperone when it finished with an inward sigh of relief. But when he had looked for Hester she was dancing with yet another green, half-grown youth. What the devil did she see in them all? Lowell was her brother, it was natural she should wish to exchange a few words with him—but why spend such a time with his friends? He was surprised, really surprised, that Hester Perceval, who had as fine a mind as he had ever met, should wish to waste her time on such lightweights. He had half a mind to go down there and ask her to dance with him again. It would at least remove him from de Landres's presence. But after a moment's thought he decided not to. It would be too painful if she refused him in front of all those striplings. And she almost certainly would—because of their damned pretence, of course!

  De Landres looked at him with knowing amusement. "She seems remarkably happy with those young people."

  "One of them is her brother, de Landres."

  "Ah! That accounts for it. And I daresay she finds them something of a relief after the rarefied atmosphere of Grosvenor. Street. How is your work on ciphers progressing?"

  Dungarran turned and gave him a cool stare. "Ciphers?"

  "I hear you are an expert, milord. Everyone at the Horse Guards sings the praises of Zeno."

  "Come, you are trying to flatter me. I dabble in mathematics under the name of Zeno, you're quite right there. But ciphers?"

  "I heard about the lecture at the New...what was it again? The New Scientific and Philosophical Society. Did you ever trace your Euclid?"

  "Er...no. That young man seems to have disappeared completely."

  "A pity. Apparently he was an enthusiast. He could have been a great help to you," said de Landres sympathetically. "It's a slow business working alone."

  Dungarran examined the Frenchman with cool disapproval. "Working? I don't know what you mean. You're obviously confusing me with someone else."

  "Come, milord! Why do you try to fob me off like this?" de Landres said gently. "It's common knowledge at the War Office that Zeno, alias Dungarran, is deciphering some documents stolen from the French. Am I not right? There's nothing wrong in my knowing that, surely? I am as eager as anyone to see the tyrant Napoleon defeated. What are they? Reports on supplies?"

  Dungarran eyed him grimly. It was obvious that some idiot at the War Office was being far too indiscreet with someone he thought was an ally. De Landres's true allegiance—to Napoleon—was still unknown to all but a few.

  "Your friends at the War Office may well be prepared to broadcast their secrets to the world, sir. I am not."

  "Such discretion! But I wonder why you find it necessary to work at Lady Martindale's house rather than your own? Can it be that you are letting yourself be...distracted by her young visitor? Is that why the task is proceeding so slowly? Or is that because the ciphers are too difficult?"

  "Are these French ways, de Landres? I have to say that, in an Englishman, I would find such curiosity, such questions about my deeper feelings, damned impertinent! We will not discuss Miss Perceval, if you please."

  "As you wish, Dungarran. But I warn you, I shall carry on asking questions of my friend at the War Office."

  "And who is that?"

  "What? And have you order him to keep a watch on his tongue? No, no! You will have to find that out for yourself, milord!" He bowed and walked away with a self-assurance which Dungarran found immensely irritating.

  Chapter Ten

  If Dungarran had only known, Hester was finding her brother's company less amusing than she had expected. Lowell had begun by introducing her to Mr Woodford Gaines.

  "How nice to meet you, sir," she said. "But I thought you were in Devon with your godfather?"

  "Indeed I am, Miss Perceval! That is to say, I'm not with him at the moment, but I was till yesterday. And I shall go back to him quite soon. I came up to town to try to persuade old Lowers to join me, don't y'know. Dashed boring in Devon with only a godfather for company! He wants to walk or play chess all the time!"

  "Lowers? Oh, you mean my brother!" She gave Lowell a sisterly look. "And has Mr Gaines persuaded you, Lowell?"

 
Lowell, looking rather uncomfortable, said, "I was going to tell you, Hes. I'm off with Gaines the day after tomorrow. You'll be all right, though, won't you? I know it means that you're on your own in London, now that Hugo has gone back with Pa and Ma. But they were happy to leave you with Lady Martindale. And Dungarran is there. He'll keep an eye on you."

  Hester kept her voice even. "You know what I think of Lord Dungarran, Lowell."

  "I thought that had all changed? He seems to be pretty nutty on you now!"

  "That doesn't mean to say that I am 'nutty' on him!" she replied sharply. Then she relented and spoke as warmly as she could. "Of course I shall be all right. Lady Martindale is very kind to me." She gave him an ironic look. "And I am sure you'll enjoy walking and playing chess in Totnes."

  The two young men burst into laughter. "The old man has a nap in the afternoon and goes to bed at ten, Miss Perceval," cried Mr Gaines. "And the cider is strong and plentiful in Devon."

  "From what I hear, so are the barmaids, eh, Gaines?" The two gave another roar of laughter. Hester was not particularly amused. She had not seen a great deal of Lowell since she had joined Lady Martindale, but he had always been there in the background, a reassuring family presence. Now she would be the only Perceval left in the capital. Lowell saw her disquiet and tried to make amends.

  "Come and dance, Sis." As they walked on to the floor he said, "If you're really upset I won't go. It's just that Gaines was so keen to have my company, and...and you seemed to be quite settled with Lady Martindale... and Dungarran." He gave her a sideways look. "I've hardly seen you for days."

  As they danced Hester wrestled with the temptation to tell him the truth. But was she sure what the truth was? She had been blackmailed into a reluctant working relationship with Dungarran, that was true. It was also true that his present admiration for her was feigned, put on purely for the benefit of society. Even Lowell had no idea that it was merely a ruse, a device to enable her to continue working with Dungarran without rousing comment. But...how had this morning's events affected that "working relationship"? Those kisses had surely not been in the plan...

  Lowell was worried by her silence. "Shall I not go, Hester? Shall I stay in London?"

  "No, no!" Hester made up her mind. The secret of her deciphering work was not hers to reveal. It was tempting to confide in Lowell, especially as he obviously felt neglected, but she must not. She must keep up the pretence.

  "No, you must go with Mr Gaines," she said firmly. "I confess I have qualms about the strong cider, but the barmaids, being equally strong, will keep you both in order, no doubt. No, Lowell, you mustn't give up your trip for my sake. I am very happy with Lady Martindale, she is a delightful hostess. But I hope you'll be here to escort me back to Abbot Quincey when the time comes?"

  "Oh, I will! I'll be back well before then! Er...that is to say...when were you thinking of going, Hester?"

  Hester experienced a strange reluctance to name a day. The deciphering of the documents could not possibly take longer than another two weeks. But to state in so many words that she would leave Grosvenor Street so soon, say goodbye to Lady Martindale and her nephew... "I... I'm not sure," she said. "We must both be back home by the middle of next month."

  "For the July fete—"

  "And Hugo's birthday."

  "But that's a long time ahead."

  "It doesn't seem so long to me," said Hester, perhaps more sadly than she realised.

  They danced in silence for a while. Then Lowell said, "Perhaps Dungarran would come to Abbot Quincey for the fete?"

  "Robert Dungarran? The perfect London gentleman? Come to a country fete, complete with farmers, sideshows, Morris dancers and bucolic merriment all round? Don't be silly, Lowell!"

  "Then perhaps for Hugo's birthday? That's only a day or two later."

  "Why on earth should he? I neither expect him nor want him!"

  "I was only thinking he was Hugo's friend," said Lowell meekly. "Nothing to do with you, of course, Sis."

  Hester gave her brother a sharp glance. "Well, he isn't! Don't start imagining things, Lowell."

  Her brother said no more, but since he was a kind person at heart he exerted himself to distract her, and when the dance ended and they returned to his friends he made sure that Hester never lacked a partner.

  His efforts were appreciated when Hester observed Dungarran dancing with a ravishingly beautiful, dark-haired girl dressed in pale pink. He was looking down at her, his head bent in its familiar pose, an indulgent smile on his face. The mysterious pain inside Hester was suddenly so acute that she had difficulty in breathing.

  "Hes! What is it? What's the matter?" Lowell's voice seemed to come from a long way off. She conquered her malaise with an effort and forced a smile.

  "I... I...don't know. It suddenly felt stuffy in here. I'm all right now."

  "You went whiter than your dress. Are you sure you're all right?"

  "Yes, yes, please don't make a fuss, Lowell. It was nothing. I... I think I should go back to Lady Martindale. She will be wondering where I am."

  "Don't worry! Her nephew will reassure her. He's hardly taken his eyes off you ever since you joined us."

  "Really?" asked Hester, with a glance at the couples now leaving the floor. "I find that very difficult to believe!" Dungarran was totally absorbed in ushering his partner tenderly towards the chaperones' corner. He was bowing over her hand and the silly girl was looking completely enchanted... Hester pulled herself together. She would not look at them, she would not! She turned and smiled brilliantly at Mr Gaines. "If you are depriving me of Lowell's company for the next week or so, Mr Gaines, you may console me with the next dance!"

  Mr Gaines went scarlet with embarrassed pleasure. "Miss Perceval! What an honour! No, I mean it!"

  The return to Grosvenor Street was by no means as merry as that of the night before. Dungarran seemed preoccupied, and though Hester talked gaily to Lady Martindale about Lowell and his friends, it was evident that she was not as happy as she pretended. Lady Martindale looked from one to the other and grew thoughtful, but she waited until they were in the house again before she spoke.

  "What did de Landres have to say, Robert? Whatever it was, you were both quite absorbed."

  "He worries me. He asked again about the ciphers, and made no attempt to disguise his curiosity—nor to hide the fact that he knew a great deal about them already."

  "Do you think he knows that you suspect him?'' asked Hester.

  "I am sure he doesn't. It's more that he is desperate to know how fast we are progressing, and especially whether I have any assistance. He mentioned Euclid, but I told him the young man had disappeared."

  "Which is no more than the truth," said Lady Martindale with a smile. She grew serious and went on slowly, "It must be important to him. He took quite a risk in showing how much he knew. I wonder who his informant is?"

  "Some sprig of the nobility with more pedigree than brains. There are several such in the Horse Guards. It won't be difficult to find and deal with him. But de Landres is a different matter..."

  "I wonder why he is in such a hurry?" asked Hester. "It's almost as if a time is important to him."

  "I agree. Of course, timing is always important in military campaigns. But I would be surprised if his concern is about the French supply lines in Eastern Europe; if he knows as much as I think he does, he knows that keeping that information from the Allies is a lost cause—those documents have already been deciphered and sent off."

  "It must be something to do with the Pentacle papers! But what? We've only just started on them."

  "Then we'll have to work longer hours, Hester! We'll start earlier in the mornings."

  "You're a slave-driver, Robert!" protested Lady Martindale. "The poor girl works hard enough! She is in London chiefly for the Season, don't forget! She's supposed to be enjoying herself."

  Hester thought of the party they had just attended. It would be no pleasure to her to watch while Robert Dungarran indulged
in more of his light-hearted flirtations with lovely young girls. "I think I enjoy my ciphers more, Lady Martindale. I know I am odd, but to me they are still far more fascinating than the...than the dances and courtesies of the polite world."

  "I'm not sure your parents would be pleased, however! And what about your brother?"

  "Lowell is leaving London for a while. He is joining Mr Gaines in Devon."

  "Ah, Mr Gaines! The fellow with the useful wardrobe, and a godfather in Totnes! I had quite forgotten him," said Dungarran.

  "What are you talking about, Robert?''

  "An earlier episode in my acquaintance with the Perceval family. But I digress. You were accusing me of being a slave-driver, I think."

  "Hester seems to be reconciled to it. However, I hope you will leave our evenings free. Or are you going to keep her prisoner here till the Pentacle papers are done?"

  "I don't have to, Aunt. As Hester has said, the difficulty is to teach her to appreciate, even to enjoy, the pleasures of society. I have no intention of reducing her opportunities for light-hearted dalliance—quite the contrary. But I don't believe starting earlier on the ciphers will disturb her."

  "Then we must all go to bed right now!" Lady Martindale said briskly. "It's very late, and you will both be at your tables long before I am up— as you were this morning. I hope your parents never learn what a poor sort of chaperone I am, Hester. But there! They don't know my nephew as I do. You are as safe with him as you would be with me. In spite of what he has just said, I know that the work you do together is far more important to him than any light-hearted dalliance."

  It was as well that she was already halfway out of the door, and so did not see the scarlet flooding Hester's cheeks and her nephew's slightly self-conscious look.

  When Hester entered the study early the next morning she found Dungarran already hard at work.