Fortunately she did not have to reply as the footmen began to remove the plates, and by the time she had recovered her countenance he had once more turned to Mary.
She asked Clarence about his military ambitions, and then had to make no more effort as he informed her of all the news from the Peninsula, and how much better the war could have been conducted, and would be if only his tight-fisted cousin would stump up the price of a commission and he could join the army and put it and the leaders to rights.
'For I have studied strategy, you know,' Clarence was saying, so seriously that she struggled to contain her smiles.
From what she had overheard Lord Ryecot saying, it appeared a good many men, soldiers and civilians, knew better than the army commanders how to conduct the war. Somehow she did not think Lord Frayne would have such lofty opinions.
She wondered if Clarence played chess, and whether Lord Frayne found him a worthy opponent. But when she asked him he was dismissive of the game as a pastime for children, akin to playing with toy soldiers, something he had outgrown by the time he was ten years old.
At last Mary gave the signal to the ladies and Damaris thankfully followed her to the drawing room. Mrs Frayne took the seat next to Mary, and Susan Gilliam sat on her other side. Jennifer, to Damaris's amusement, glanced at them and then came to sit beside her. So she was to be acknowledged, was she?
'Miss Hallem, do you often go to Almack's? I have not seen you at the assemblies there this Season.'
'Nor will you,' Damaris said. 'The Patronesses do not give vouchers to anyone with the faintest hint of trade or business in their families. As I am the granddaughter of an innkeeper, I have saved them the trouble of refusing by not asking.'
'Oh, my dear Miss Hallem, I had quite forgot. That is so unfortunate for you, but you will never acquire a respectable husband unless you are accepted there. It is known as the Marriage Mart, you know.'
'I do know, but it matters not in the least to me, since I have no desire for a husband, respectable or not.'
It had not served Jennifer well, she thought, for the woman must have been going there for a dozen years or more.
'Doesn't your cousin wish to marry you?'
Damaris almost laughed at the eagerness in her voice. Did she want to reassure herself Damaris was not a rival? How had she come by that idea anyway? Was Lord Frayne's offer, or their challenge matches, known to the whole of the ton? She felt her cheeks grow warm again.
'Humphrey? He is my trustee, my guardian,' she explained, 'until I am one and twenty in July. Sometimes I think he disapproves of me. He shows no signs of wishing to marry me, and even if he did I would not accept him. As I said, I do not wish to marry.'
Jennifer sighed, and gave a bleak smile.
'Then we have the same view of the married state. I would be quite content in a small house of my own, but Mama considers it a failure that I have not accepted any offers in all these years.'
Damaris could not help wondering exactly how many offers Jennifer had received, but she was continuing.
'That is why she persists in coming to London. She went to Bath a year or so ago, actually for two years, but I really found the company there dreadfully provincial. Even tradesmen, or those whose money came from trade, were acceptable. Besides, having to hire rooms there was so dreadfully expensive. Have you ever been to Bath?'
'I have not had that pleasure. But as my fortune comes partly from trade it should suit me.'
Jennifer nodded. 'You ought to go. With your background, your grandfather, you know, you would find it more to your taste, I think, and there are men there who would be prepared to ignore your family.'
Damaris gritted her teeth, finding Jennifer no longer amusing. Was the woman being deliberately offensive, or simply obtuse? Did she never listen to what was said to her? Damaris did not for a moment believe her protestations that she did not wish to marry, so perhaps Jennifer had the same suspicions of her. If it were true, though, any woman of her age ought to be quite capable of resisting her mother and refusing to be paraded at Almack's and balls where a prime purpose was to introduce young men and women to one another, and contract alliances between suitable families, consolidating estates and fortunes, and in most cases only incidentally considering the happiness of the couple involved.
Her grandfather had wanted her to find a good husband, for he had himself enjoyed a happy marriage. He would never have forced her to accept someone she did not love. It would not have mattered a scrap to him if a potential husband had been wealthy or not, with a title, or was from a background similar to his own.
'He must be a gentleman, though,' he had told her. 'I don't mean his family, or what he owns, but he must have the right behaviour.'
She had understood what he meant. He had been such a gentleman himself, despite his humble beginnings. Humphrey, she suddenly thought, was not. Nor, from what she had seen and heard this evening, was Clarence. Was Lord Frayne? She thought he was, apart from his insulting proposal.
The men soon joined the ladies in the drawing room, and Damaris watched as Humphrey went to sit next to Jennifer. Was he attracted to her, which was an intriguing thought, or did he find her attitude matched his own somewhat jaundiced view of life?
Mrs Frayne was watching her nephew, but seemed to relax when he went to talk with Lady Gilliam. Lord Frayne did not again speak to Damaris until the guests were leaving, and then only to ask her to drive with him on the following day, if it were not raining, to discuss their next match.
Humphrey told Damaris he would be calling on her the following morning, and she suppressed her irritation. He had not asked if it were convenient, and she promptly decided a visit to her modiste was going to be essential. She would not be at his beck and call.
Mrs Frayne made a great deal of fuss, for it was now raining heavily, and she was sure her gown would be ruined. Eventually they were all gone, and Mary sank into a chair, sighing with relief.
'What a dreadful family your poor Lord Frayne possesses. He is not at all like them.'
'He is not my Lord Frayne,' Damaris was beginning indignantly, when Nurse knocked and came into the drawing room.
'My lady, I think we must send for the doctor again in the morning. Both the children have developed a rash. I'm afraid it is now certain they have contracted the measles.'
***
Chapter 9
Mr Willett, having been out of town, walked into White's one evening some days later and found the Earl of Frayne in the card room.
'Luke? What are you doing here? I thought you'd have been at the Besant ball tonight. Won't the Hallem girl be there? You don't want to let Ryecot steal a march. I heard him say only yesterday that she seemed better than he had first supposed, now she was dressing well, and he might have a go at her after all.'
'He won't be able to at the Besants' ball. The children are ill, and they are not going.'
'Ill? Lady Gordon's children?'
'Measles. Both of them. Poor Damaris has been cooped up with them for two days. I can't even entice her out for a drive while they are apparently in need of her.'
He tried not to show his frustration, but feared Frank detected it.
'But isn't there a nurse, and a mother, and maids to care for them?'
Luke frowned.
'Yes, all those, but I understand the little girl becomes fretful and feverish if anyone but Damaris tends her. Lady Gordon came down to speak to me when I called. It seems Damaris had taken the child to buy doll's clothes or some such, which made her a prime favourite, and she now gets agitated if Damaris so much as leaves her room. She is even sleeping there, when she gets the opportunity to rest in between mopping the child's brow!'
'Isn't she afraid of catching the measles herself? I remember my sister's infants having it, and within weeks the whole village as well as most of her household seemed to be ill.'
'Lady Gordon assured me she had it as a child, and cannot catch the infection again.'
'So your courtship
hangs fire?'
'I think the fire has gone out,' he admitted ruefully. 'She is adamant she won't have me, so my sole hope now of regaining the Castle is winning the next two chess games. And that will not be as easy as I first thought. She is a clever and somewhat unconventional player.'
'What chess games?'
Luke looked at him and gave a short laugh.
'I forgot I haven't seen you for a while. I proposed, but very ineptly. I have not had the practice!'
He had never ceased condemning himself for rushing the matter, or not taking greater care to disguise his real motive when he had made his unfortunate offer.
Frank nodded in sudden comprehension.
'And she refused? But Luke, don't all girls play the coy maiden?'
'I would not know what other girls do. Miss Hallem rejected me, very decisively. She unfortunately perceived my real intention, and informed me she was not about to gain control of her affairs when she comes of age simply to hand them over to a husband. Especially one who wanted her house more than he wanted her.'
Frank whistled softly.
'I see. That was uncharacteristically bungling of you, Luke. I thought you had more address with the ladies.'
'Not with Miss Hallem, it seems. I was like a raw farm lad!'
'But what has that to do with games of chess?'
'She offered to hazard the Castle, as it was by gambling that my father lost it. She suggested chess, since she felt she would be at a disadvantage at cards. I agreed, sure that I could match her skill at chess, for I have played a good deal. I was wrong. She won the first game. We play for the best of three, but now I have to wait until these children are better to get my revenge. It is frustrating. And you need not look so amused.'
Frank was openly chuckling.
'The girl has hidden depths. You beat everyone I know at chess.'
'Her grandfather, confound him, taught her, and she has read the most abstruse old texts, and clearly learnt from them.'
Frank stopped laughing and looked suddenly serious.
'I wanted to see you about something else. A few days ago, before I had to leave town, Catherine cozened her way into my rooms.'
Luke grinned. He could not imagine his friend and his former mistress together, but he still felt obliged to caution Frank.
'Don't believe her, Frank. She looks so adorable, but you would soon tire of her tantrums.'
'Thank you, I have no desire to take on your leavings, even if I could afford her. But she wanted me to help her see you. She's angry, Luke, and could be dangerous. She has some sort of plan, I swear, and she knows you are interested in Miss Hallem.'
'She sends me letters, but that is all she does.'
'I am not so sure. She is bitter, and dissatisfied with Stanton, despite all he lavishes on her. She'll try to spoil your plans if she can. She wants you to take her back, and cannot bear the thought of you being leg-shackled.'
*
For several days Damaris had barely left Amelia's side. When the child slept she managed to go into the garden for some air, and to get away from the heated atmosphere of the nursery, where the doctor insisted a good fire was kept. Even when it rained, and there had been many storms, she went outside. It felt better to get wet than to remain in the house. She could not leave the nursery for long, though, in case Amelia woke and needed her. She knew Lord Frayne had called, and suggested she drove out with him, but she sent down a refusal. On the next day he called with a huge basket of lemons and fruit he had sent for from the succession houses of an estate he owned in the Chiltern Hills. Damaris, blessing his thoughtfulness, swiftly made lemonade, sweetened with honey, and coaxed the children to drink, soothing the coughs that occasionally racked them.
Lady Gordon had been preoccupied with Tommy, taking him down to her own room so that he and Amelia did not disturb one another. Nurse hovered between the two sick children, taking turns to sit with them when they slept. Neither Lady Gordon nor Damaris had slept for more than an hour at a time, as the children were restless and fretful, unable to understand why they ached all over and tossed with fever.
By the fifth day Amelia's rash was beginning to fade, and Damaris awoke after having fallen asleep for several hours in the chair beside the little girl's bed. Amelia was sitting up in bed, playing quietly with her new doll, and her fever appeared to have subsided. The rash was fading, and Damaris breathed a sigh of relief. The worst was over and the little girl would soon be her normal lively self.
When Netta brought her a tray, for Damaris had taken all her meals in the nursery, while trying to cox Amelia to eat, she reported that Tommy was also on the mend.
'But her ladyship is fair worn out. Nurse thinks Tommy will be able to sleep here tonight, and she will sit with them. Then you and her ladyship can have a proper sleep in your own beds.'
Amelia did not want Damaris to leave her, but when she was promised another visit to the toy shop as soon as she was better, she let go of her hand and turned away her face. Damaris took it as permission, if reluctant, to go.
Her own feather bed felt wonderful, but first she soaked in a hot bath to get rid of the stiffness in her limbs. Netta fussed around her, still chiding her for not permitting her to do more of the nursing.
'But you knew perfectly well Amelia would have fretted.'
Netta snorted.
'Children should not be given way to.'
'The little one was ill, and did not understand why she felt so uncomfortable. I can recall how I felt, and only Grandfather's presence made me feel better. It does no harm to give them whatever comfort they need.'
'That's as may be. But I will not disturb you in the morning, you're to have your sleep out.'
Damaris nodded. She was exhausted, and fell asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow. When she woke the following morning, feeling refreshed and her normal self once more, she lay in bed trying to recall the days before the children were ill.
She needed to arrange a second chess game, she thought dreamily, and felt a thrill of anticipation. There had been little leisure to think back over the first one, but now she began to recall the moves. Lord Frayne had been more skilled than she had expected, but he had made mistakes, especially at first. Damaris suspected these had been due to lack of attention. He had clearly expected an easy victory, and by the time he had realized she had tempted him into these mistakes it was too late to recover his position. He would not be so much off guard again.
She had to prepare. She had not yet sent to fetch her grandfather's books to London, and some of them were so rare she did not think she would be able to obtain copies of them, but she could recall many of their games, and she would work through those again and plan strategies. There was little time to lose. She rang the bell, and by the time Netta appeared with chocolate and bread and butter she was out of bed, and having donned a dressing gown, sitting at the small escritoire with several sheets of paper in front of her.
*
The Earl's butler came into his book room where he was sitting over a chessboard, trying out various moves. Luke looked up impatiently.
'I said I wasn't to be disturbed.'
'No, my lord, but that rascally groom from Cavendish Square is here, insistent he sees you. I sent him round to the mews.'
'Oh. Yes. Thank you. Send someone for him, I'll see him here.'
The butler sniffed, and raised his eyebrows, but nodded and backed out of the room. Luke pushed the chessboard away. He'd said to come and inform him when the children were better. If they were maybe Damaris would now consent to drive out with him.
He was unsettled and could not determine why. The past few days, since she had been playing nursemaid, had been strange. He tried to follow his normal pursuits, shooting at Manton's, visiting Gentleman Jackson's, playing cards at White's. He had attended the opera, but left after the first act, for he could not concentrate and found the soprano's voice irritating. He had refused to go to the play, knowing he would not take in a word. Frank had tri
ed to persuade him to drive to Newmarket, but even that had not appealed. Nor had he ridden or driven in the Park, and his groom was complaining his cattle were in dire need of exercise.
He had received two more missives from Catherine, and cast them into the fire without even breaking the seals. His aunt had berated him for paying her and Jennifer no attention, refusing to escort them to balls and soirées, and insisting all their letters were given to him first, as if he did not trust them. When he reminded her of Jennifer's abuse of his trust in opening a letter she must have known was intended for him, Mrs Frayne flounced away, muttering that he was becoming an unreasonable tyrant. Clarence had retreated in fury when Luke had told him that if he wished to be a soldier he could join the ranks, and it would do him good to undergo some discipline for once.
Surely, he asked himself in some dismay, this uncharacteristic behaviour, this lack of concentration, could not have been brought on by the mere prospect of a difficult game of chess? He had lost the first game through underestimating his opponent, a mistake he would not make again. He should be looking forward to winning the next two games, and recovering Frayne Castle. But, an insidious inner voice nagged at him, what if he lost again?
He heard his butler admonishing the groom, and the next moment the lad was shown into the room. Luke nodded dismissal to the butler. The groom, who had never before been inside the house, was looking round in frank curiosity.
'Cor, 'ave you read all these books, mister? Must 'ave took years!'
'Never mind the books! Have you a message for me?'
The lad dragged his gaze from the bookshelves.
'Miss Hallem. She went ridin' this afternoon. In the Park.'
'Then the children are better?'
'Dunno. You said ter come and tell you if she went out, so I did.'
'What time did she go?' Luke asked, wondering whether he had time to change and ride into the Park himself.
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