Amberley Chronicles Boxset I: The Impostor Debutante My Last Marchioness the Sister Quest (Amberley Chronicles Boxsets Book 1)

by May Burnett

  James finished his toilette more slowly, to keep the man waiting for a little longer. He needed to gather his wits; he must not betray any knowledge about Charlotte he was not supposed to possess. It would also be impolitic to betray his violent dislike of Conway, although no special cordiality would be necessary towards a casual gambling acquaintance.

  When he was ready, he joined his guest, who was standing at the window, looking down on the street.

  “Ah, Conway,” James said in a bored voice. “Have you come to settle your debts? No need to have come in person, you know. “

  “Ellsworthy. Yes, I came to settle that little matter, but money is the least of your worries,” Conway said in a meaningful way.

  James had no trouble affecting surprise at this statement. “Just what can you mean?”

  “That it would be in your best interest to forget all about my debt of the other night. If you insist on payment, then you may soon see your family engulfed in an unpleasant scandal.”

  “You know,” James said meditatively, “I have trouble imagining a more contemptible thing, than to use and humiliate your own wife to make trouble for someone else. That was your wife who accosted my cousin in the park this afternoon, I take it?”

  Conway seemed a bit put out at James’s knowledge of that scene, just a few hours past, but quickly rallied. “Never mind about that, though it does show how quickly people can be got to talk, about anyone, really. What about the money?”

  “You will pay every single penny of it, Conway, and to hell with your blackmailing insinuations. I am surprised that a bigamist and fortune hunter of your ilk would even dare to make such threats. Isn’t there a saying about people in glass houses?”

  “You will regret that attitude.”

  “Possibly, but it is against my principles to give in to loathsome insects of your type. Aren’t you afraid I might go to your father-in-law and tell him that you and his daughter are not legally married?”

  He was watching Conway carefully, but was disappointed at the man’s lack of concern. In the dicing session, he had not seemed so composed. Did he have some ace up his sleeve?

  “You’d be making a fool of yourself; my marriage to the current Mrs. Conway is quite legal.”

  “And does the man also know about your gambling habit?”

  “Every gentleman gambles.”

  “But you, Conway, are no gentleman.” James had forgotten all about his intention not to betray his feelings or his knowledge. “If you bother or slander any lady connected to my family in any way, there will be swift and total retribution, I promise you that. As for the money, if you haven’t brought it with you now, I expect a draft within the next twenty-four hours, or I will spread the news of your insolvency all over Denton’s and similar places. Your choice.”

  “As you like, Ellsworthy. It’s your own funeral.” Before stalking out, Conway shot James a look he didn’t like at all. The man was still dangerous, he felt. What now?

  And what had the man meant, his current marriage was quite legal? Either he was lying and bluffing – but after seeing him gambling, James did not have a great respect for his acting abilities – or there was a factor of which James was not aware.

  Conway’s marriage to Miss Bessemer could only be legal if his previous one to Charlotte was not.

  Careful, James warned himself. Was he being misled by his own wishes and desires? To have Charlotte free of this villain would be eminently desirable in his own eyes, and possibly in hers. Still, to have contracted an invalid marriage, and actually lived with the scoundrel, would be enough to ruin her in society’s eyes, even more completely than her current imposture. If this theory had any merit, Charlotte was more vulnerable, and Conway less so, than he had supposed.

  If it should turn out that Charlotte was free, what did it mean for him? James did not feel the slightest doubt or hesitation in answering this question. If she were free, he’d marry her as quickly as he could get her to an altar. By special license, preferably, and then he’d carry her off on a wedding trip, as George had just done with Marianne, and proceed to enjoy her company, and her body, every day and night for the rest of his life.

  True, there were quite a few hurdles to be got over before that happy consummation could take place. James was determined to make short work of them, now that he was clear on what he wanted to achieve.

  Chapter 20

  Charlotte had always prided herself on steady nerves, but she was feeling distinctly uneasy about her appearance at Covent Garden that evening.

  Her gown, at least, would not give anyone reason for criticism; it was nicely judged to frame and display her charms without straying over the line of the acceptable for a debutante. In almost transparent white and silver, complimented by the ancient Amberley pearl set, she looked almost bridal. A singularly inappropriate look for her, if only the truth were known.

  It was so warm in the carriage that she was not wearing her cape over the gown, though it was at hand in case the weather might become cooler later on. Maybe she should have worn it anyway; she distinctly noticed goose-bumps on the strip of skin above her long white evening gloves.

  Lady Amberley was clad in an amber silk gown and sporting a set of topazes lavishly set in heavy gold. Her expression was still peevish. Charlotte was feeling so little welcome in her hostess’ company that she fell to planning, once again, how to best extricate herself from the current fix and return post-haste to Yorkshire.

  Unfortunately she didn’t have quite enough cash on hand for the expense of hiring the indispensable maid that a respectable woman needed for company, as well as the fare and other travelling expenses. She had noted that the various hostelries along the Great North Road were charging far more for food and refreshments than establishments in less advantageous locations. If travellers did not want to starve, or perish from thirst, they had little choice but to pay up.

  In her ignorance, she had brought enough – she thought – to finance an escape, if it became necessary, but she had underestimated the expenses involved. As matters stood now, there was no chance of receiving any moneys from the Yardley accounts in the immediate future, so she was at a stand.

  “If you look this gloomy at the theatre,” Lady Amberley observed, “then we might as well have spared ourselves the trouble of going out.”

  “I will try to look more cheerful, then, thank you for reminding me.”

  “Looking cheerful is vulgar, Belinda. You are supposed to look superior and indifferent, with a very faint smile if something amuses you. Didn’t my sister teach you any of this?”

  “No, but then she died long before I could go into society, Aunt. She herself always showed her emotions quite openly.”

  “Yes, I remember. It sometimes made her seem deplorably naïve.”

  “On that subject we must disagree then. I am not willing to listen to any criticism of my mother.”

  A silence lasted for two or three minutes, before Charlotte ventured, “Do you know what piece will be performed tonight?”

  “It hardly matters. If it is an opera, then we’ll be sitting through a lot of singing in Italian, which I can’t abide. If it’s a play, then one often can’t hear the words for all the noise in the audience, particularly in the pit. The point of attending is in being seen, the entertainment is just the excuse.”

  “I see,” Charlotte said, disappointed.

  “If anyone has the impertinence to refer to the scene in the park, you have to maintain complete mystification what it was all about,” Lady Amberley warned. “Then immediately turn the subject.”

  “As I don’t have any idea who the woman was and why she accosted me, that should not be difficult.”

  “Hmmph.” Lady Amberley did not seem entirely satisfied with her denial. “In my experience, there are precious few cases of smoke without fire.”

  Charlotte maintained a stony silence until they arrived at the theatre.

  “Since we should always have at least one gentleman in our pa
rty, I have invited Lord Monksley and his mother to join us in our box,” Lady Amberley mentioned casually as they were about to descend.

  Charlotte had to suppress a groan. Monksley, a well-to-do baron, was the most persistent of her “suitors”, as Lady Amberley would refer to them. She had met the mother among the callers after the Sefton ball. Charlotte liked that friendly and inoffensive lady rather better than her colourless son. She hated encouraging their interest under false pretences.

  “They don’t know about that woman in the park, do they?”

  “Very likely they do. You have no idea how quickly rumours spread among our circles.”

  “Just like a small town or village.” Charlotte followed Lady Amberley up the elegant staircase, looking curiously around her at the throng of elegant ladies and gentlemen. Nobody seemed to be paying her excessive attention so far.

  Lord and Lady Monksley were already waiting in the box. After a general round of greeting, Lady Amberley directed Charlotte to sit in front, next to herself, with the young man. Lady Monksley seemed quite content to sit in the back row, flanked by two empty chairs.

  Lady Amberley produced a diamond-encrusted lorgnette from her reticule, and began to scrutinize the people filling the adjoining boxes.

  “I see Doncaster is back in town,” she remarked.

  “Won’t be for long, he always goes home in July,” Lord Monksley replied.

  Charlotte found this inconsequential chatter about people she did not know excessively tedious, so she did not participate in their talk, and instead mentally composed her next letter to her sister.

  “My dear Lady Amberley!” An elderly lady in black had entered their box. “I just wanted to quickly express my sympathy for your poor niece, before the performance starts. Such an unpleasant experience!”

  “Yes, there are many strange people in the capital, but fortunately Miss Yardley is none the worse for it,” Lady Amberley returned. “Belinda, my dear, I don’t think I have yet presented you. My niece Belinda Yardley, the dowager Countess Jarvisham.”

  “I am most pleased to make your acquaintance,” Charlotte said.

  “Ha! A pretty enough girl, Millicent,” Lady Jarvis pronounced, not directly answering Charlotte. Then, turning her piercing black eyes back on her, she asked, “Who was that woman in the park, and why would she think you are interested in her husband?”

  “I wish I knew that myself, Ma’am. It is all very puzzling, as I have just recently arrived from Yorkshire. But Lady Amberley has told me not to dwell on such unpleasant and vulgar persons, and instead enjoy the performance tonight. Do you like plays or opera more?”

  Her blue eyes firmly locked onto Lady Jarvisham’s, daring her to continue her interrogation. After a moment, that lady chuckled.

  “You’ve got bottom, I’ll give you that. Come and visit me – I’m at home on Thursdays. Time I went to my own box.” She disappeared in a rustle of silk.

  “She gives me the shivers,” Lord Monksley said, in a low voice. “You are very brave to be able to stand up to Lady Jarvisham like that.”

  “Why, what could she do to me?”

  Lady Amberley shook her head. “She could ruin you with a word, her consequence is enormous. But for some strange reason she seems to like you.”

  “Strange reason? Everyone must surely like Miss Yardley,” Lord Monksley objected.

  “As you say.” Lady Amberley seemed disinclined to argue the matter. “Have you seen that bilious green coat Harvey is sporting tonight?”

  The music began just then, Mozart’s Idomeneo, in Italian, as Lady Amberley had predicted.

  Charlotte tuned the talk out once again, made sure that a faint haughty smile was firmly fixed on her face, and started to brood about James.

  No denying it, she was strongly attracted to his body, as well as liking him as a person. But she could not and would not have an affair with him. Life as a fallen woman had no allure for her, she had always been too sensible to even be tempted. And, she uneasily recalled, the pleasures of the marriage bed, while mildly enjoyable at first, were not so wonderful that they constituted a great enticement.

  Might these not be much better, though, with a man she actually liked and respected? Maybe he’d do things differently, to please her as well as himself. She had heard that such a thing was possible. But the desire to find out was hardly reason enough to court ruin.

  She contemplated her husband, making love to that thin woman in pink every night, in his selfish way, without a thought for her. All she felt was disgust and a certain impatient pity for the woman. She was well rid of Peter – but she wasn’t really, was she? Like an invisible millstone tied to her neck, she still dragged him around with her wherever she went. He took his pleasure where he might, and she was left to suffer in silence. It was not fair.

  And would it really be ruin to have an affair with a young man, as long as no pregnancy resulted? She’d heard that there were ways to prevent that, though respectable women only employed them for medical reasons, after too many births had weakened their body. Unfortunately she had only the vaguest idea about them, gleaned from the conversations of other officers’ wives. Even thinking about the possible mechanics seemed wicked and sordid.

  Of course people like Lady Amberley would already consider Charlotte irretrievably ruined, considering that she was the illegitimate child of an actress, brought up in her father’s family by a quirk of fate. But there it was; Lady Yardley, the only mother she had known as long as she could remember, had brought her up to be a lady and to conform in her behaviour to the same principles she expected of Belinda, or other young ladies of impeccable birth. She could not throw her upbringing overboard at this late date without betraying who she was, and all she had been taught.

  And yet - Charlotte had always been conscious of how unfair and arbitrary these rules of conduct were, when you set expectations for young men and women side by side. The hypocrisy inherent in the system could not but obtrude itself on any person of ordinary intelligence.

  Obviously she could not openly live or have an affair with James, but were there circumstances where such a thing might remain secret, and without consequences? If she knew for sure that nobody would ever find out, would her conscience permit her to indulge her wicked wishes?

  Vaguely noting the beautiful music flooding the theatre, Charlotte concluded that under such conditions, her conscience would not raise very violent objections, and her self-respect would be preserved. James and she could meet and sport on equal terms, in such a fantasy.

  But fantasy it would have to remain. Gossip and ruin were all too real, and could not be disregarded.

  “You are very silent,” Lord Monksley said to her at the end of an aria.

  “I am enjoying the music. We don’t often have such elaborate performances in Yorkshire.”

  “So you love music? Do you perform yourself, Miss Yardley?”

  “I was taught the pianoforte, but I am only indifferently talented, I’m afraid, and have neglected my practice of late.”

  “You can use the instrument in our music room at any time,” Lady Amberley said. “Such accomplishments are expected in all young ladies of rank.”

  “I can imagine nothing more charmingly domestic,” Lord Monksley agreed, “than to have a little music every evening after dinner, so that all the senses are delighted.”

  “And do you play yourself?” Charlotte did not want to dwell on the picture he had created.

  “Ah, no, it’s usually the ladies of the house who provide this stimulating artistic pleasure.”

  Charlotte allowed her smile to widen the tiniest fraction, and returned to rapt contemplation of the singers’ performance.

  Chapter 21

  Lady Amberley had been right, Charlotte thought; if the noise level had been lower, she could have enjoyed the music better. As it was, the intermission arrived as a welcome relief. Throughout the performance she had felt a great many curious gazes on her face, and she expected more visitors to
their box. Lady Amberley decided, however, that they should all walk around outside, which raised the problem of only one escort for three ladies.

  Before a solution could be found, her younger son and his friend Alphonse providentially entered the family box. Apprised of his mother’s plans, under her disapproving eyes James whisked Charlotte away, and secured her a glass of Rhenish wine, which she sipped gratefully. They greeted a number of acquaintances, but did not stop to talk to anyone.

  “Your mother wanted me to walk with Lord Monksley, I fear,” Charlotte told him. “She was not at all pleased when I left with you instead.”

  “Well, the fellow was there before me, so it’s hardly my fault if he was too slow off the mark. He does seem very interested in courting you, though in his place I’d prefer to do it without dragging my mother along.”

  “Yes, isn’t it terrible? I wish I could tell him he was wasting his time.”

  “You could hint that your affections are already engaged.”

  “I suppose I could – but as long as he doesn’t declare himself, that would be difficult to bring up in casual conversation.”

  “I can just picture it. “ James grinned. “Oh, by the way, I am in love with a fellow up in Yorkshire.”

  “Someone else could tell them more easily, than I myself. Would you-“

  “Good god, no, if it came from me they would merely think I was trying to bamboozle the competition. By now everybody must be aware that we are getting rather close.”

  “At least you are not nursing any false hopes, and you are the only person in London to whom I can speak frankly.”

  “So glad to be of service. But we don’t have much time.” They stopped talking for a minute to exchange compliments with Lady Sefton and her escort for the evening.

  “As I was saying,” James resumed, “the papers are liberated from your solicitor’s office, and I have found another, younger solicitor to handle them for your sister. He has to go to Yorkshire, though, to be retained by her husband.”