‘That would be a task quite beyond Crosby’s power,’ said the Earl, pinning the brooch into her lace. ‘I learned the true story from Lethbridge. But it did not need his or any man’s word, Horry, to convince me that only force could have induced you to enter Lethbridge’s house that night.’
‘Oh, R-Rule!’ Horatia quavered, two large tears rolling down her cheeks.
The Earl’s hands went out to her, but a footstep outside made him turn. The Viscount came in, fluent words on his lips. ‘Beg pardon to have kept you waiting, Horry, but Lady Louisa – Well, by all that’s fortunate!’ He executed a well-feigned start. ‘Rule! Never thought to see you here tonight! What a lucky chance!’
The Earl sighed. ‘Go on, Pelham. I feel sure you have some urgent message for me which will take me to the other end of the gardens.’
‘Oh, no, not as far as that!’ the Viscount assured him. ‘Only to the boxes. Met Lady Louisa – looking for you all over, Marcus. She wants to see you very particularly.’
‘What I chiefly admire in you, Pelham, is your resource-fulness,’ said his lordship.
‘Pel, it doesn’t m-matter any longer!’ said Horatia, drying her eyes. ‘M-Marcus knew the whole time, and it was he who had the b-brooch, and wrote me that letter, and there’s nothing to worry about any m-more!’
The Viscount stared at the brooch, then at Rule, opened his mouth, shut it again and swallowed violently. ‘Do you mean to tell me,’ he demanded, ‘that Pom and I have been moving heaven and earth to get that damned brooch back when all the time you had it in your pocket? No, damme, that’s too much!’
‘You see, when you held me up on Hounslow Heath I found myself quite unable to resist the temptation – an over-mastering one, believe me, Pelham – of – er – leading you on a little,’ apologized his lordship. ‘You will have to try to forgive me, my dear boy.’
‘Forgive you?’ said the Viscount indignantly. ‘Do you realize that I haven’t had a spare moment since that brooch was lost? We’ve even had to drag a highwayman into it, not to mention poor old Pom’s great-aunt!’
‘Really!’ said Rule, interested. ‘I had the pleasure of meeting the highwayman, of course, but I was not aware that Pommeroy’s great-aunt also had a hand in the affair.’
‘She hadn’t, she’s dead,’ said the Viscount shortly. A thought occurred to him. ‘Where’s Lethbridge?’ he asked.
‘Lethbridge,’ said his lordship, ‘is at Maidenhead. But I do not think you need concern yourself with him.’
‘Need I not?’ said the Viscount. ‘Well, I’ve a strong notion I shall be on my way to Maidenhead in the morning.’
‘You will, of course, do just as you please, my dear boy,’ said Rule amiably, ‘but I should perhaps warn you that you will not find his lordship in a fit condition to receive you.’
The Viscount cocked a knowing eyebrow. ‘Ha, like that, is it? Well, that’s something. Pom will be glad to know. I’ll call him in.’
‘Pray don’t put yourself to the trouble!’ besought his lordship. ‘I do not wish to seem uncivil, Pelham, but I am constrained to tell you that I find you – shall we say a trifle de trop?’
The Viscount looked from Rule to Horatia. ‘I take you,’ he said. ‘You want to be alone. Well, I think I’ll be off then.’ He nodded at Rule. ‘If you take any advice, Marcus, you’ll keep an eye on that chit,’ he said severely, and walked out.
Left alone with her husband, Horatia stole a glance at him under her lashes. He was looking gravely down at her. She said, the stammer very pronounced: ‘Rule, I truly w-will try to be the s-sort of wife you w-wanted, and not m-make any m-more scandals or get into any scrapes.’
‘You are the sort of wife I wanted,’ he answered.
‘Am-am I?’ faltered Horatia, lifting her eyes to his face.
He came up to her. ‘Horry,’ he said, ‘once you told me that I was rather old, but in spite of that we married one another. Will you tell me now, my dearest – was I too old?’
‘You’re not old at all,’ said Horatia, her face puckering. ‘You are j-just the right age for – for a husband, only I was young and stupid and I thought – I thought –’
He raised her hand to his lips. ‘I know, Horry,’ he said. ‘When I married you there was another woman in my life. She is not there now, my darling, and in my heart she never had a place.’
‘Oh, M-Marcus, put m-me there!’ Horatia said on a sob.
‘You are there,’ he answered, and caught her up in his arms and kissed her, not gently at all, but ruthlessly, crushing all the breath out of her body.
‘Oh!’ gasped Horatia. ‘Oh, I n-never knew you could k-kiss like that!’
‘But I can, you see,’ said his lordship. ‘And – I am sorry if you do not like it, Horry – I am going to do it again.’
‘But I d-do like it!’ said Horatia. ‘I l-like it very m-much!’
About the Author
Author of over fifty books, Georgette Heyer is one of the best-known and best-loved of all historical novelists, making the Regency period her own. Her first novel, The Black Moth, published in 1921, was written at the age of fifteen to amuse her convalescent brother; her last was My Lord John. Although most famous for her historical novels, she also wrote twelve detective stories. Georgette Heyer died in 1974 at the age of seventy-one.
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