by Georgie Lee
Chapter Eleven
Over the next three days, Justin had paid a call on every contact he possessed and made a few new ones in the processes of assembling the required vintages. He had even managed to secure a case of the Spanish port which had nearly eluded him and left the order unfulfilled. The morning of the masque, he personally saw to the wine’s delivery, unwilling to trust even Mr Tenor with its safe handling.
As he finished going through the list with the tart Netley, Lord Rockland joined them in the wine cellar. He inspected the casks and crates of bottles stacked up in the dank, dark room with a critical eye, as though looking for any reason to reject the wines, or deny Justin his money. After what Lady Rockland had done, Justin wouldn’t put it past the man to leave Justin on the hook for the stock and the bills which went with it.
Lord Rockland picked up one of the bottles of Spanish port from the shelf where the butler had set them. His eyebrows rose with admiration before he set it down, offering no congratulations for the effort it’d taken to secure it. It was as if he was owed the thing simply because he’d asked for it and had been given by providence the means to pay for it. His surety in himself and his place in the world nearly made Justin sick. The man’s wife had thrown Justin’s life entirely off kilter and yet nothing mattered more to this man than whether or not his guests could drink themselves into a stupor. Neither he nor his wife had done a day’s work in their entire lives, or knew what it was to scrape by on little more than ambition, yet they thought nothing of ruining those people who worked hard. Despite hating to admit it, Susanna was right. These weren’t the kind of people to build a business or a future upon and he couldn’t be free of this sort soon enough.
‘Well done, Mr Connor. I’m impressed.’ Lord Rockland at last faced him and Justin made sure to maintain his deference. He didn’t want the man to suspect the loathing he carried for him and his wife. ‘I’m very impressed.’
Whether it was because Justin had procured the wine or defied his low expectations he wasn’t sure, although he could well imagine. ‘Thank you, Your Grace.’
‘See to it Mr Connor receives his payment, then set things up as we discussed yesterday,’ he ordered Netley, who didn’t work to hide how he felt about having to pay Justin as he dropped a leather bag of coins into his palm.
With the matter concluded, Justin tucked the pouch in his coat pocket and picked up the crooked lid of a crate to straighten it, ready to see this strange part of his life laid to rest.
‘Lady Rockland tells me you and Susanna won’t be able to attend tonight,’ Lord Rockland observed. ‘She says Susanna isn’t well.’
Justin’s fingers tightened on the rough wooden edge of the crate lid as he set it down over the bottles. His determination to walk away now and leave the Rocklands to their lives while he and Susanna went about theirs came rushing back. He could agree with the duchess, graciously bow out of tonight and heed her warning to not sully her precious party with their presence. Until this moment, it was exactly what he’d intended to, but he couldn’t. He didn’t want her or Lord Rockland to think they’d triumphed over them. Lord Rockland had agreed to their invitation to the ball as part of the marriage contract. If Justin declined to attend now it would relieve the duke of this last duty and Lady Rockland would win. Justin wasn’t about to allow her to think she’d defeated them, or to let Lord Rockland out of even one of his obligations, no matter how small. Nor was Justin about to surrender his own ambitions and miss the opportunity to acquire a few new clients. With his marriage in tatters, Justin’s work was the one thing remaining to lift him up. He would succeed, despite what anyone, even Susanna, thought.
‘I’m afraid Lady Rockland is mistaken.’ Justin brushed the wood and dust from his hands. ‘Susanna is quite well and we will be there tonight.’
‘Good, I’m glad to hear it.’ Lord Rockland hummed. If he was surprised by the answer, his laconic demeanour didn’t change to show it.
Justin realised it didn’t matter to him one way or another. It was Lady Rockland who’d seethe like a cornered cat when he and Susanna appeared tonight. He wanted her to fume; she deserved it.
Lord Rockland reached up to a nearby shelf and ran one finger over the embossed label, the one Susanna had designed with the printer. Then he turned to face Justin with a strange kind of scrutiny. ‘I think a man of your ingenuity will do well tonight with my guests in establishing your name.’
Justin stilled. At least there was one person who saw something of worth and promise in him. He hadn’t expected it to be Lord Rockland. ‘I hope so.’
‘Until tonight, then.’ Lord Rockland made his way back up to the kitchen, his business done and other needs awaiting his attention.
Justin didn’t linger in the cellar, but gathered up his men and made for home. It would be a press to prepare for the masque. Susanna wouldn’t be pleased, but it didn’t matter. It was time for her to resume her duties as a wife and stand beside him.
* * *
Susanna sat curled in the chair by the fire, trying to read, but not one of the sentences she’d skimmed in the past half hour had remained with her. In the three days since Dr Hale’s visit, she’d seen less of Justin than she had in the days after her secret had been revealed. She knew he was securing her father’s order for the masque, and understood once the delivery was made she and Justin would be free of the Rocklands at last.
It seemed such a strange idea and at the same time it was the only one which gave her any joy. For years she’d wished them to be a part of her past as much as her grandfather and uncle. Soon, they would be. Despite the fact Lady Rockland had risen up one last time to destroy all chances of a happy future for Susanna, she was glad to never have to face her again. She would remain here, quietly living her life with Justin in whatever shape it decided to take, while the duchess and her father lived theirs.
The door to the room swung open and Justin stepped inside. She set aside the book, her heart fluttering not so much with hope at his arrival, but in anxiety over the stern set of his jaw. Had her father rejected his order or refused to pay? She knew the cost of the wines Justin had procured. She’d taken a glance at the list during one of the many nights she’d been awake, pacing in her worry. There was more than one bottle only a man like Lord Rockland could afford, the cost of which would ruin Justin if Lord Rockland didn’t pay.
‘Did all go well?’ she dared to ask, almost afraid to hear the answer. She wouldn’t put it past Lady Rockland to try and ruin Susanna’s livelihood as well as her marriage in the hopes she and Justin would sink from all society for good.
‘It did. Your father was very pleased. So much so, he believes I can cultivate some of his friends as clients.’
Her stomach dropped. They weren’t supposed to have anything more to do with society. ‘What brought about his change of heart?’
‘I impressed him. There’s no reason why I can’t impress his friends.’ He marched to the wardrobe and flung open the doors, then plucked from inside the green domino and gown. ‘We’re going tonight and we have to make a good show of it.’
‘We can’t.’ She jumped to her feet, rocking a little with dizziness before the room settled around her. ‘Lady Rockland won’t allow us to walk in there without finding a way to punish us. You saw what she did when you were alone in the house. Imagine how she’ll strike if we dare to show ourselves at her ball.’
‘Lady Rockland can go hang. Her guests are the only people I care about.’
‘You used to think nothing of them before. Now, because you want their patronage, you’re willing to risk being insulted or humiliated by Lady Rockland to curry their favour.’
He whirled to face her, the domino hanging limp in the hand by his side. ‘I want to succeed and if that’s how I can make it happen, then so be it.’
‘There are other ways to do it without them.’
‘Not tonight, there isn’t. With everyone there enjoying their drinks, I can slip among them and spread the word about
my business.’
‘You won’t win these people over, especially not if Lady Rockland is set against it. These aren’t merchants who appreciate the effort it takes to procure things they believe their due. They won’t admire you like the duke, but look down on you for meddling in trade.’
His fingers played with the sagging cape while he considered what she’d said. He knew she was right, but it was plain something more than ambition was driving him tonight. He’d told her in Hyde Park not to care about these people; now he was willing to set aside his pride to wander among them and it frightened her. This wasn’t the Justin she’d come to love, the man she wanted so much to be with again.
‘I understand your desire to prove wrong all those who’ve doubted you,’ she sympathised, desperate for him to give up this course. ‘But I don’t want to see you ridiculed for my mistakes.’
He reached into the wardrobe and plucked out the mask, the one she’d so carefully laundered after their intimacy together, a closeness they might never take pleasure in again. ‘You didn’t mind so much the idea of ridiculing me when we wed.’
She swallowed hard against his insult. ‘If you’re determined to attend, then you’ll have to do it alone. I won’t face them or their insults and snide remarks again.’
Especially not on the arm of a man who could barely stand to look on her.
He marched up to her, coming toe to toe with her, but with nothing of the adoration or care he’d shown her the first time they’d stood so close. ‘Whatever discomfort you experience tonight, it isn’t even a measure of what I’ve been forced to endure, what I’ll continue to endure because of your lie. We will arrive there together and appear like the happiest of couples.’
‘How will we, when we aren’t?’
He started and in his silence she caught the regret before his anger buried it. ‘You lied to me to get me to the altar and for all the days afterwards. Surely you can lie as convincingly for one more night.’
‘I lied about the child, but I never lied about how I felt about you. I love you, very much.’ She reached up to touch his face, but he flinched away.
‘Then it shouldn’t be too difficult for you to act like it tonight.’ He flung the domino across the foot of the bed as he made for his room. ‘Be ready within the hour.’
Chapter Twelve
Susanna entered Lady Rockland’s masque on Justin’s arm. There was no footman at the door to announce the names of each arriving guest. Instead, they strolled in with their costumes, some with their hair powdered in the fashion of a few decades before, others with togas draped around the men’s shirts and golden asps wound around the ladies’ arms. Each one paraded through the main floor of the house in the guise of a different historical figure, laughing and drinking the wine, unaware of how hard a man had worked to procure the libations they enjoyed. They didn’t care. This was all for their amusement and tomorrow it would be forgotten as they moved on to the next, trying to fill their vapid lives with meaning.
Elaborate masks covered many of the guests’ faces, and Susanna wished she’d opted for something more substantial than the thin silk covering her eyes. Despite the cape allowing her to blend into the shadows along the edges of the room, it wouldn’t be long before someone recognised her. Then it would all begin again, the whispering behind fans, the reminders she wasn’t one of them, but someone to be pitied and ridiculed. This time the rumours would be more cutting, for surely Lady Rockland had let Susanna’s secret slip and it was now making the rounds through the sitting rooms and dressing rooms of society.
At one time it would’ve been a comfort to have Justin walking beside her. Tonight his hardness added to her isolation. He’d all but ignored her when she’d come downstairs to join him, offering a stiff arm as he’d led her to the chaise. They’d sat beside one another in the darkness as it’d rattled towards Grosvenor Square, more tension icing the air between them than the night when she’d first jumped into his vehicle at Vauxhall Gardens. The silence had left her to wallow in her fears about what might happen both tonight and in the many more days to come. She hoped like most worries the reality would pale in comparison to what she imagined, though at present it didn’t seem likely.
‘At least try to smile,’ Justin demanded from beside her.
‘Why? It doesn’t matter to these people whether we’re happy or crying in some corner.’
‘It matters to me.’
She forced herself to smile as wide as he did, hating this act. She’d pretended so many times in places like these to be honoured when some lord evaluated her to determine whether a connection to the Duke of Rockland and a thousand pounds was worth marrying a bastard. She’d appeared gracious as she’d danced with men who’d thought her as loose as a cyprian because of her illegitimacy. She’d stood behind Lady Rockland and Edwina, pretending not to notice how they ignored her. She never imagined she’d be here pretending to be happy with her husband while her entire world was falling apart.
Her smile sagged and she didn’t bother to bolster it. She was tired of play-acting for these people and longed for tonight to be over and to finally leave this rotten, ugly world behind.
‘Please, Justin, let’s leave,’ she begged, tightening her hand on his arm. ‘There’s nothing we can gain here.’
His smile stiffened, turning as hard as his muscles beneath her palm. ‘Of course there is. There’s Lord Pallston. Introduce me to him.’
He pulled her through the crowd to where Lord Pallston stood stuffed into a doublet as red as his nose and near bursting at the seams under the strain of his bulk. The earl finished his drink, depositing the empty glass on a passing footman’s tray and taking another. He tossed it back, then grabbed the tall footman’s arm to stop him so he could take one more before sending him on his way.
‘Lord Pallston—’ Susanna began, enduring the nasty curl of his fat lip in displeasure as she introduced him to Justin.
‘The champagne is a fine vintage, isn’t it?’ Justin plucked a flute off a passing tray and handed it to the man. He regarded Justin suspiciously as he finished his other glass and exchanged it with Justin for the full one.
‘Definitely better than many I’ve enjoyed at such gatherings,’ Lord Pallston mumbled through a tongue thickened by his enjoyment of the duke’s hospitality.
His confidence buoyed by Lord Pallston’s appreciation of the champagne, Justin produced one of the engraved calling cards Susanna had printed for him and held it out. ‘I’m the man who procured it and I can acquire more for a gentleman who appreciates the finer vintages.’
Lord Pallston took the card with two sausage-like fingers and eyed it as if it were a biblical tract condemning strong drink. Then he flicked it away. ‘I don’t trouble with merchants. My steward deals with them. Talk to him.’
He waddled off in the direction of another footman with a full, glittering tray of drinks.
Justin snatched the discarded card from the floor and stuffed it back into his coat pocket, then dropped the empty glass on a passing footman’s tray.
‘Go ahead, gloat over my failure, tell me you were right and how I’ll succeed in the pubs of Fleet Street, but not in the ballrooms of Grosvenor Square,’ he said, the knock to his pride so palpable it made Susanna’s chest hurt.
She wouldn’t gloat. She couldn’t, because his failure didn’t feel like a victory. She wanted him to succeed as much as he did. ‘You’re determined to continue?’
‘I’m not leaving here without one good contact.’
She studied him. It was difficult to read his expression behind his mask, both the silk one and the one he’d worn in her presence over the last few days. She wanted so much to be with the laughing man she’d come to love during their marriage, the one who didn’t care about what all these people thought of him or her or their situation. But that Justin wasn’t with her tonight and she’d have to do her best with this sullen one.
‘Then speak to Lord Felton. He’s a baron and not as rich as Lord Pallsto
n, but his mother was a merchant’s daughter. He might be more inclined to patronise us. Come, I’ll introduce you.’
Without waiting for him to agree, she wound her way through the crowd to where a man draped in a cape and hidden by a mask similar in simplicity to Justin’s leaned against a column. He watched a set of masked ladies and gentlemen move through the tortuously slow steps of the minuet, the long notes of the violin accompanying them grating on Susanna’s nerves.
‘Lord Felton, it’s a pleasure to see you tonight.’ Susanna held her hand out to the man who recognised her at once, responding to her greeting with enough charm to almost raise her fallen spirits.
‘Miss Lambert, I thought you’d left us for a better place,’ the distinguished older gentleman drawled, his enthusiasm for the night’s festivities lacklustre.
‘I have.’ She told him of her marriage and her new name, speaking of it with as much pride as if she possessed as grand a title as anyone here, hoping Justin might notice. Then she introduced Justin to the baron and explained about their business. Lord Felton listened with an interest not usually seen in great men unless they were discussing hunting. By the time the man was summoned away by his wife, Justin had given him his calling card and extracted from him a promise for an order for a dinner party the man was hosting next week.
