They set out from Yardley Place in a landau, which allowed them to see and be seen. Christelle quickly realized that was the sole point of a promenade in Hyde Park at the fashionable hour. She was thankful for Maili’s presence, for there were never any gaps in the conversation when her cousin was present. Maili was greeting everyone as old acquaintances, with a bit more exuberance, perhaps, than the ton considered appropriate. The gentlemen seemed to think her a great gun, and Christelle had not noticed anyone cut her directly, though she had also not seen any approving glances either.
She glanced over to see the Duke's reaction, and thought she detected amusement under the hooded lids. The landau pulled to a stop, which was not a very great movement since they had previously been travelling at the speed of a turtle.
“Afternoon, Cavenray, ladies,” Mr. Cole said in a pleasant voice as he doffed his hat to them.
“Join us, Cole,” Cavenray commanded, notwithstanding his lazy drawl.
Christelle wondered why people tolerated being directed in such a way, but Cole did as he was bid. Perhaps the Duke did not make unreasonable demands.
“I am much obliged to you for sharing the most charming company, Cavenray.”
The Duke inclined his head. “We are bored. I am trusting you to provide some diversion, Cole.”
“Alas, I know very little other than there is to be a concert at Vauxhall three nights hence.”
“That is not news,” the Duke agreed.
“What is Vauxhall?” Christelle asked, though she had heard the name mentioned by someone.
“Oh, it is said to be the most fantastic evening!” Maili exclaimed. “You arrive by boat, there are fireworks, there are dark romantic pathways you can get lost in, and they say the shaved ham is worth dying for,” she said dreamily.
“Something did die for it,” the Duke said quietly, though Maili heard him and cast him a glare.
Christelle wanted to laugh.
“Shall we see you there, then?” Mr. Cole asked Maili.
“I hope so, but I am not certain what our plans are.”
Sir Anthony rode by on some ’high-steppers’ according to Maili, and the conversation went in a direction Christelle had little interest in.
She smiled politely as the trio discussed the latest offerings at Tattersall’s, and how Lord Roth’s chestnuts were superior to Sir Anthony’s greys. Maili appeared to hold her own with the men. Christelle longed to be back walking in the park with Dr. Craig, when things had been simpler. She had scarcely seen him since he left the country house.
They moved on and passed some women who Christelle suspected to be of her mother’s former occupation. She noticed the coy glance one of them gave Mr. Cole and the look of comprehension that passed over the Duke’s face.
“Are you going to introduce us to your friend?” Maili asked innocently.
Mr. Cole had the grace to blush. “I would not call her a friend.”
“Oh. Ohhhh,” Maili said with understanding. “Why is your ladybird promenading about Hyde Park?” she asked in a loud whisper.
The Duke made a slight choking noise before he disguised it, and Christelle felt like laughing again, though it was not really funny, despite the irony of it all. She wondered if all of them knew about her mother and her occupation after she was no longer a duchess.
“My dear, a lady is not supposed to know of these things.” Mr. Cole gently chided Maili.
“Why does everyone think females are stupid? And why should we pretend we cannot see what is right there, as bold as brass, in front of us?”
Mr. Cole looked stupefied; the Duke wore the same look of bored amusement.
“Oh, Christelle, look! Is that Uncle Yardley?” She waved to catch the rider's notice.
“Good afternoon, Christelle, Maili,” her father greeted them as he pulled Dido up next to their carriage. “Cavenray.” He tipped his hat to the Duke and eyed Mr. Cole suspiciously.
“Who is your friend? I have not had the pleasure of an introduction,” he said with quiet indolence.
“Mr. Cole, may I present my father, the Duke of Yardley.”
The man stood up and bowed properly, despite his high collar points, skin-tight coat and breeches seemingly melded to his legs. How different he was from Dr. Craig! Yardley inclined his head but did not smile.
“I trust you are enjoying your ride?” Mr. Cole asked with a pleasant smile. With a negligent air, he twirled a looking-glass hanging from a chain.
“I am.” Dido threw back her head and showed the whites of her eyes at Mr. Cole. Christelle had never seen her behave in such a fashion. The man sat back down and leaned away as Dido began to snort at him.
Christelle sensed tension and spoke up to break the awkwardness.
“Are you in Town for long this time, sir? Mr. Cole is with the Foreign Office,” she informed her father.
“Are you indeed?” Yardley asked as Dido kept fidgeting. “Where are you posted?” He barked a command at the horse and she stilled.
“I have been in Paris, but I am awaiting my next orders.”
“How interesting,” Yardley said, and Christelle was almost embarrassed for the manner in which her father was treating the man. Christelle had noticed he was different in manner to those outside their family. The Duke had an air about him which could be construed as haughty and stern. What had he been like in his youth? What had he been like with her mother before their falling out? It was difficult to reconcile what she knew of either of her parents with what she had heard each of them say about the other. It was likely she would never know the exact truth.
“Where is Hector?” Christelle questioned.
“He had his exercise earlier. My Duchess was not able to ride her today, so I am obliging her.”
“I had best be on my way,” Mr. Cole said somewhat nervously. Dido was still breathing down his neck and Yardley was doing nothing to stop her.
Dido turned towards Mr. Cole as he alighted and lifted her tail. To Christelle’s horror, the mare proceeded to splash his shiny Hessian boots. She would swear an expletive passed his lips, though it was too faint to be certain.
“I am mortified, Mr. Cole! Is there anything I can do for you?” she asked. With every evidence of disgust, he was hurriedly wiping the yellowish fluid from his boots.
“I think perhaps relieving the mare of his presence would be in the best interest of everyone,” Yardley remarked with calm indifference.
“Think nothing of it,” Mr. Cole said with a forced smile. A crowd was beginning to gather.
“You are very generous, sir.” She inclined her head as he walked away.
“Christelle, would you walk with me for a few moments? I promise to return you to the carriage shortly.”
“Of course, Papa.”
He dismounted from Dido and handed Christelle down. They walked several paces away from the crowd, and Dido returned to her usual calm, aloof demeanour.
“He danced with you at the ball, did he not?” Yardley asked with his eyes narrowed upon the retreating figure of Mr. Cole.
“Papa, he was the man who helped me in Dover. I told Childers to admit him.”
“He came uninvited and expected to be admitted to a duke’s house? You have had no contact with him since Dover?”
Christelle shook her head, knowing her father was right, yet not knowing what else she could have done. She looked at him in dismay.
“Papa,” she chastised. “The man helped me.”
“I will happily repay him the cost of the ticket, Christelle. But what kind of man gives money to a female alone without some type of expectation?”
“But I offered to repay him, Papa,” she insisted.
“Did you?” He cast a glance at her. “So, is he here seeking his repayment in a different manner?”
“He has asked no such thing,” she said, affronted.
“Oh, my dear, but he has. He gained entry into my house uninvited, and therefore to the ton. That is not the way a gentleman behaves, regar
dless of his easy smile and manners.”
She was too angry to reply.
“How did he know where to find you? In Dover, you were still uncertain of employment, let alone who your father was.”
It was a valid point, she had to concede, but she could still not pardon his rudeness to Mr. Cole.
“Even Dido did not like the popinjay!” he added, stopping and looking down at Christelle. “I want you to have no further contact with that man. I will look into him and if I am wrong, I will admit as much. But until then, there is not to be a word, ride or dance with him. Do you understand? Meanwhile I will repay your debt to him with my gratitude, etcetera, and relieve him of his need to further prey on your kindness.”
“Yes, Papa,” she said quietly, though she did not care for this side of her father one bit. She could have lived oblivious to this streak in him quite happily.
“I must have a care for you, Christelle,” he said quietly. “I have good reason to trust no one.”
And now, she had to return to the landau and pretend she had not just had her first argument with her father.
Chapter 19
It was Maili’s coming out as well, and she looked as though she was walking on air lately. There had been almost as many bouquets of flowers delivered for Maili as Christelle, Margaux had said. She was always a happy, radiant girl that others felt drawn to—and this occasion was to be no different, it seemed. Seamus had been concerned she would be disappointed for many of the reasons he knew why he himself would not be considered worthy of Christelle. However, being sponsored by a duke and a marquess, and with a respectable dowry, would at least give her the opportunity to make a reasonable match.
It was Wednesday afternoon when Seamus walked into Yardley Court after attending Mr. Baker’s graveside funeral. Dare he hope Christelle had saved Wednesday afternoon for him as before? Instead, he was to find her and Maili entertaining in the saloon, which was full of hopeful suitors. He looked into the room of Corinthianesque and dandified hopefuls and quickly backed away. Perhaps she might find some time for a walk in the garden with him later in the day. He would not bother trying to compete with that tomfoolery. Every day had been similar—she was riding, driving, making calls, being called upon…and that was just during the daytime. Every night there was a gala, ball, or soirée of some sort, and he was truly happy for her. It occurred to him it was probable she was not avoiding him on purpose. However, he realized with a pang, if this was the life she wished to lead, then he was not the husband for her.
He chose instead to escape to the billiard room, where he found Yardley, Harris and Gavin. He always had seemed to blend in better with the older crowd than the young bucks. He had never sown his wild oats, for he had never seen the purpose. Very likely, he thought, considering the matter, the time in the orphanage had given him an appreciation for what he had. He had never felt the need to debauch himself at every opportunity, especially when he daily saw the effects of such behaviour on his patients.
“Seamus, do come and join us,” the men greeted him.
“Am I intruding?” he asked.
“I suppose you have seen the downstairs nursery?” Harris jested, handing him a cue.
“Aye. It made me feel quite elderly.”
“The time is up for you, my lad. What you need, my boy, is a wife,” Harris said as he struck his ball.
“I would have agreed with you before I came to London. It is why I came here, in fact. However, I feel married to my work of late,” Seamus replied, hitting the red cue ball and sending it into the pocket.
All three men openly stared at him, though Gavin's eyes held empathy.
“The offer of the Edinburgh estate still stands,” Gavin remarked.
“Thank you, but no. I am simply morose from the loss of a patient. And I have missed everything I was to attend on behalf of Maili and Christelle. It will pass.”
Yardley handed him a glass of brandy. “If you had had the day I did with Christelle, you might rather be in hospital.”
“Did something happen to her?” Seamus could not mask his concern.
“Merely fending off rogues. It is no different for any protective father, I suppose.”
“I have no doubt she is much sought after,” Seamus conceded with a sinking feeling inside.
“You would not believe the offers I have refused already,” Yardley said with the shake of his head.
“Are they not respectable?” Seamus thought surely not.
“We have seen all varieties, I am afraid. I have never heard of this man, Cole. I have put my secretary on to it, of course, but there is something about him that bothers me.”
“Who is he?” Harris asked.
“One Mr. Cole of the Foreign Office, or so he says. He apparently helped Christelle in Dover—even purchased her a ticket for the stage, which he would not allow her to repay—then had the effrontery to arrive for her coming out ball without an invitation. He used his so-called good deed as a way to wrestle his way in.”
“How could he have known who she was? She did not know she was your daughter at the time of their chance meeting. Has he done anything else?” Seamus asked, though not sure he wanted the answer.
“Other than dance with her at the ball and then force an introduction in the park?”
Gavin and Harris made faces of distaste.
“Dido took a dislike to him and staled on his gleaming Hessians,” Yardley said with some satisfaction. “I have forbidden Christelle to have further contact with him until I may investigate him, but she is quite angry with me. I could see the fire blazing from her eyes when I told her.”
“Why would she defend him?” Gavin asked.
“She believes it was honourable of him to have purchased her ticket and helped her. I grant she was desperate, but she thinks I was rude beyond the pale.”
Seamus stood there, quietly waiting his turn while the other men took their shots. He could only hope that if he must give Christelle up, it would be to someone worthy. However, he could not think of that roomful of young gentleman in the drawing room and feel any of them would measure up to his satisfaction, given their various fobs, snuffboxes and affectations—not to mention quantities of lace.
“We must make certain she is never alone. I do not want her merely accompanied by a female chaperone.”
“I do think she might resent that, sir, though I understand your protectiveness,” Seamus said meekly.
“Almost certainly she will. The trick is to make sure she never knows what we are doing,” Yardley agreed without a flicker.
“You cannot think to escort her everywhere, Yardley,” Harris said. “You may be a duke, but you will certainly be de trop if you are hanging on your daughter’s sleeve.”
“Who says I want her to be courted? I am in no hurry.” He gave Harris an incredulous look which was met with a smirk. “We have just found each other, I think a bit of doting is understandable.”
“Will you turn respectable suitors away?” Gavin asked.
“Does such a thing exist where one’s daughter is concerned?” Yardley retorted.
Seamus felt distinctly uncomfortable and very, very disheartened.
“I would think forbidding anyone to court Maili would send her running straight into his arms,” Gavin mused.
“Forbidden fruit is tastier,” Harris agreed.
“Christelle seems mature for her age. She was quite blunt about her mother’s occupation. I cannot think she would fall into the trap so easily,” Yardley said, though it had obviously given him pause.
Seamus tended to agree that Christelle was wise beyond her years compared to Maili, who was as naïve as they came. However, Seamus knew how Christelle felt indebted towards himself, and if she felt similarly about Cole, there could be trouble.
“Now, how shall we divide up chaperoning my daughter?” Yardley asked with a mischievous grin.
“It will never work,” Seamus said, though he could not believe the words had come from his lips.
“She will know you are spying on her and resent you,” Harris concurred.
Yardley’s face fell. “What do you suggest?”
“Someone nearer her own age,” Harris suggested. “Meanwhile, I will ask around at the docks. Cole is bound to be familiar there if he travels frequently.”
“I have already sent my secretary to make enquiries.”
Seamus almost felt bad for the gentleman. He would not want the full force of Yardley and Harris looking into his past. Suddenly all of the men were staring at him.
“What is it?”
“Christelle is comfortable with you, Seamus. She would not suspect her cousin would be keeping an eye on her, especially since your sister will also be there.”
“Sir, while I am flattered, I cannot abandon my new position. It would be a full-time task and then some to squire the two ladies everywhere.”
“What if I hire you as my personal physician? Then you can continue your duties at the school and attend to the family.”
“While I am honoured, I am sure, I am not ready to give up on my dreams of making Medicine a valid science of researched remedies and treatments.”
The Duke studied him with uncomfortable intensity. Seamus would love nothing more than to spend every moment with Christelle—and even Maili. Could Yardley see his intentions and already found him lacking? Many people outside his immediate family thought he had windmills in his head when he began to speak about his profession and his aspirations. Employment was frowned upon by Society, even though a physician was a gentleman—just not the level of gentleman who would be worthy of a duke’s daughter.
“May we compromise?” Yardley was not used to being told no.
“Sir, I do not know how. I have already missed the most important night of Maili and Christelle’s début. I cannot choose between the responsibility and also my livelihood.”
“May I speak to Seamus alone?” Gavin asked in his calm voice.
“Of course.” Harris and Yardley placed their cue sticks in the wooden rack against the wall and left the room.
After the Rain Page 15
