“Look here,” Justin said curtly, “what the devil’s amiss with you? I can’t think of another instance when you’ve behaved like this.”
“Forgive me, my lord. It will not happen again.”
“Oh, cut line, damn you! I’m not going to turn you off without a character, but I want to know what’s going on. Is it a wench?”
The valet said stiffly, “I am sure that my personal affairs—”
“An affair, eh? Who is she?”
“It is not an affair,” Leyton said indignantly. “See here, Master Justin—”
“I thought it wouldn’t be long before you tried that on,” Justin said, grinning at him. “It won’t serve, though. If you’ve got into the petticoat line, damned if I won’t turn you off. I shan’t be able to depend on your knowing where you are, let alone where my things are.”
“I have not taken to petticoat-chasing, sir, and so you should know. If I have some concern about one particular young woman, because she is foolishly allowing her fancies to overcome her better judgment—”
“Good Lord, I can commiserate with you there,” Justin said. “Who is she?”
“I would rather not say, sir. Suffice it to say that she is allowing one who is not worthy to lick her shoes to winkle his way into her favor.”
“A real dog, is he?”
“His reputation with persons of the female gender is worse than that, sir. I tried to tell her. I even took the liberty of going to—That is, I took advantage of your absence today, and the fact that you had no duties at court, to pay her a call, with the firm intention of describing to her just what sort of a rogue he is.”
“Who the devil is this rogue?”
“He serves Charles Morden, my lord.”
“Does he indeed? Does he speak English? His master’s German, I think.”
“He does, sir, albeit with a dreadful Hanoverian accent. Fancies himself quite a buck, too. If I may take a further liberty, sir, he is not unlike his master.”
“‘Tel maître, tel valet,’* as the ancient bard said. You might as well tell me now who the wench is, Leyton. I’ll find out soon enough, you know.”
“I expect you will, at that, sir.” Leyton sighed. “She is obsessed with him, I fear. Her name is Jenifry Breton, sir. She is Lady Letitia Deverill’s dresser.”
“Oh, Lord,” Justin said, staring at him.
“Yes, sir,” Leyton said, quietly taking the cloak away.
Letty and Miss Dibble were neither the first nor the last to arrive at Sellafield House for her ladyship’s dinner party, and when the carriage drew up before the lovely house at half past seven, it was still light enough in Grosvenor Square to see it. The three-story exterior of modest red brick sported white stone belt courses and window surrounds. Two unpretentious stone pillars mounted with gas lamps flanked the white front door, and the elaborate, well-polished brass knocker gleamed brightly with the lamps’ reflected light.
The interior of the house revealed a much more opulent classical look. The entrance hall, saloon, and front parlor through which they passed, as well as the magnificent great drawing room where the company had gathered, had all been embellished and gilded with excellent taste, if (in Letty’s opinion) with a rather heavy hand. Painted decoration and murals decked walls and ceilings, each room boasted at least one marble fireplace, and the huge crystal chandeliers in each room now provided modern gas lighting.
Letty had scarcely greeted her hostess and introduced Miss Dibble before Miss Abby descended upon her and pulled her toward a comparatively quiet corner.
“Letty, dear, do come and talk with Miranda and me. We simply must talk with you, for Justin did not tell you, did he, dearest?”
“Tell me what?”
“Oh, I knew it. I just knew it! We thought we would have time to break it to you gently, in just the right, well-chosen words, you know. But then Justin showed up at Chiswick—so unexpected, you know, and so very likely to tell you he knew, because of course we had told him that you did—and then the storm burst over us all. So when Miranda said she didn’t think he had, I just knew she was right. You would have said something to us, even with that din on the way home. She said you mightn’t, that you might be afraid to upset us. At least that was her first thought, but then when you looked so taken aback at her last question just before we went in—”
“Miss Abby, please,” Letty begged, stemming the tide. “I haven’t got a notion what you are talking about.”
“But that’s just what I’ve been saying, isn’t it? Does Miss Dibble know?”
Letty blinked, trying to make order out of the chaos in her thoughts if not in Miss Abby’s discourse. “Ma’am, pray begin at the beginning. Does Miss Dibble know what?” Even as she said it, however, she had an uncomfortable idea that she was not going to like the answer. “Wait,” she added hastily, turning to her companion. “Elvira, will you excuse us for a few minutes so that I can sort this out with Miss Abby? There is Catherine Witherspoon yonder, beckoning to me. Pray go and speak to her, and I will join you as quickly as I can.”
“Perhaps I ought to hear about this,” Miss Dibble said evenly.
“It is nothing that concerns you,” Letty said in the same tone. “Do go now, and tell Catherine that I shall be with her directly. Now, ma’am,” she added when Miss Dibble had walked away, “what’s this about Raventhorpe?”
“I do think you had better let Miranda tell you,” Miss Abby said wretchedly. “She is talking to Admiral Rame now, and waiting to talk to Sally, who is still receiving guests, but I shall likely make a mull of it if I try to tell you all by myself.”
“Is it so complicated, then?”
“No, but Justin knows, you see. And we thought he was going to take you to task because he knows that you know, don’t you know, and so when we went to Chiswick and he was there, looking so … you know, so out-of-reason cross—”
“Miss Abby, please,” Letty said, drawing her farther into the quiet corner. “Perhaps this is not the best time or place for this discussion.”
“No, but if he didn’t say anything then, maybe he won’t, and you need to be warned, Miranda says, because he is determined to take control like he does, don’t you know. And most likely he will be telling you what to do, as well as us, and it is not his house, after all, but yours. And you understand, my dear, which is so much better for everyone concerned. Justin will just make a mull of things. Worse than me,” she added dismally. “He has already upset Liza, poor thing.”
“Mercy, she isn’t here tonight, is she?”
“No, but she did so want to come, because she knew Admiral Rame would be here, and Sir John Conroy, and she quite dotes on them both, of course. Well, not ‘of course,’ perhaps, certainly not in Sir John’s case—”
“Ma’am, don’t go off on another tangent, I beg you,” Letty said. Annoyed to hear that Conroy also was a guest, she wondered fleetingly if there might be some way, if Charles Morden was with him, as usual, to let the latter know that his man’s attentions to Jenifry were likely to displease the Marquess of Jervaulx.
Miss Abby’s agitation quickly recalled the problem at hand. “My dear Letitia, you are quite right,” she said, wringing her hands. “We must stop Justin.”
“I collect, ma’am, that Raventhorpe has learned your secret. I am sorry about that, but I can only say that I am surprised that he did not learn it long before now. I do not know what we can do about it, in any event.”
“Good gracious, my dear, do you want him to tell us all what to do?”
“I’ll talk to him if you like,” Letty said, wondering what she could possibly say to him that would do any good.
“Oh dear, I wish you would talk to Miranda first,” Miss Abby said. “She is over there with Sally now. Perhaps if we just stroll over to them …”
When she paused hopefully, Letty said, “Not now, ma’am, when Lady Sellafield has her guests to look after I will try to talk to Raventhorpe, though, I promise you.”
Watchin
g Miss Abby make her way toward Mrs. Linford, with the usual collection of decorations bobbing and shimmering on her hat, Letty sighed at the thought of confronting Raventhorpe. For once, though, she thought he might agree with her. That he hadn’t thrown the knowledge in her face at Chiswick was surprising, especially since, if she had correctly interpreted Miss Abby’s very confused account, he had learned that she knew about the old ladies’ little business. Still, he had been so angry about her going alone to rescue Liza, perhaps he just hadn’t got to that point when Susan Devon-Poole and the rain had interrupted them.
Before she talked to Raventhorpe, she realized that she had one other person to warn. Catherine Witherspoon had been kind to her, and if Raventhorpe knew about the house, it would no longer be safe for her to meet her lover there.
Moving to greet Catherine, she waited only until Miss Dibble turned away to talk to someone else before saying in an urgent undertone, “I must tell you that Raventhorpe has learned about the house and means to put a stop to the illicit meetings there. You must tell your friend to arrange something else.”
Fear leaped to Catherine’s eyes, and she turned away, a hand flying to her mouth. When she had recovered some of her composure, she stammered, “I … I can’t tell him that. He’ll be furious to learn that Raventhorpe knows. Letty, what am I to do?”
“Are you afraid of him, Catherine?” When the other woman nodded, she said, “Who is he, that he can terrify you so?”
“I can’t tell you. He would kill me.”
“Don’t be silly,” Letty said, reacting as she always did to absurdity. Then she glanced in the direction of Catherine’s stricken look, and suddenly she was not so sure that the other woman’s fear was absurd, after all. Catherine had been looking toward a group of men that included Sir John Conroy.
*“Like master, like man.”
FIFTEEN
SEEING CONROY AT SELLAFIELD House irked Justin. He had not far to look, however, to learn how the man had got his invitation. Cornering Sellafield, he said, “You invited that fellow Conroy, didn’t you?”
“What if I did?” Sellafield demanded, glaring at him. “My house, ain’t it? Your mother went and invited that damned little Tory, didn’t she? Whatever else Conroy may be, he’s a good Whig, ain’t he?”
“He looks out for his own interests and no one else’s,” Raventhorpe said curtly, suppressing with difficulty a strong urge to defend Letitia’s presence. “Moreover, you don’t like him, so what’s he doing here?”
“He wanted a word with Melbourne, that’s all, and I was glad to oblige. It’s not right that Her Majesty ignores him. He’s served her well and don’t deserve such Turkish treatment. If he can get Melbourne to speak for him, she may yet relent.”
“Melbourne won’t do it, and nor will she,” Raventhorpe said. “You know that as well as I do.”
Sellafield shrugged, not denying it.
Justin narrowed his eyes. “How much of your debt did he offer to forgive?”
Resentfully the earl said, “Only a quarter of it, damn his eyes. Said he was making the offer only once, too, or I’d have held out for more.”
“So for five hundred pounds you sold him access to the prime minister. Very pretty behavior, sir.”
“Wouldn’t have had to do it if you’d paid my debt like you should have. A fine thing when a father has to go begging to his son, especially when the debt’s a paltry two thousand and the son’s as rich as Midas.” His eyes shifted focus to a point behind Justin, and he said, “Ned, you tell him. Ain’t there a law says a son must show respect to his father?”
“Not in British common law, there’s not, sir; but there’s something in the Bible to that effect, I think,” Ned said with an oblique glance at Justin. “I am not going to fight your battle with him, in any case, sir. Boot’s on the other foot. I’ve come to offer him an apology if he’ll accept it.”
“Certainly I will,” Justin said.
“What need have you to apologize to him?” the earl demanded.
Ned flushed, and Justin said, “That will remain between us, sir, if you don’t mind. Have you come alone, Ned, or did you bring friends?”
The earl turned abruptly away, muttering about having friends of his own to look after. Watching him, Justin grimaced.
“I wish you two weren’t always at odds with each other,” Ned said quietly.
“Never mind that,” Justin said “Are you on your own tonight?”
“No, I brought Jerry with me. He disappeared, though, when we had the misfortune to run into Sir Adrian Devon-Poole and his family.”
“Did you apologize to Miss Devon-Poole for embarrassing her?”
“I didn’t get a chance to say a word to her. She took one look at me—which nearly froze me to the bone, I might add—and looked away again, all stony-faced. Jerry took to his heels at once, of course, and that’s when I realized that you were right, Justin. I can scarcely cry out at you for treating me like a child when I do still act like one sometimes. I’m deuced sorry. Must I speak to her?”
“I think you must offer her an apology but not when she is with her father and mother. If you see an opportunity, take it, but don’t make a great thing of it.”
Ned nodded. “Very well, then, I’ll do it.”
“I’ll see if I can pave the way for you, shall I?” Justin said. “I owe her an apology of my own.”
“You? What did you do?”
“That, my bantam, is my affair. Do you possess no white neckcloths? That pink one is hardly suitable for a formal occasion.”
Ned made a face at him, then left to look for his friend.
Justin decided that there was no time like the present to make his apology. In any case, he thought, it would be easier to speak to Miss Devon-Poole before dinner than afterward. With luck, Latimer would announce the meal soon and make it unnecessary for him to converse at any length with her. His first task, however, would be to separate her from her parents.
Finding Puck, he said, “Can you engage Sir Adrian and Lady Devon-Poole in conversation long enough for me to speak privately with their daughter?”
Puck’s eyebrows rose ludicrously. “Of course I can. I’m a dab hand at that sort of thing, as you well know, but is it wise for you to be private with the wench?”
“Wise or not, I must,” Justin said.
“I thought you had put the notion of marrying her behind you. Certainly you’ve shown more interest of late in the little Tory than in Miss Devon-Poole.”
“That’s just the problem,” Justin told him. “I did not tell you earlier, because I’m not proud of what happened, but Miss Devon-Poole chanced to interrupt Lady Letitia and me at a most inopportune moment this afternoon. I fear from her reaction that she harbored expectations that I had taken considerable pains to avoid raising.”
“Ah-ha,” Puck said wisely.
“So, you see, I must speak with her, for Lady Letitia as much as for myself.”
“Then I am at your service,” Puck said nobly. “In fact, dashed if I won’t take a second look at the wench myself.”
“Do your worst,” Justin recommended. “For the present, you can help me see that she does not make it her object in life to ruin Lady Letitia.”
With his friend’s deft assistance, he was soon able to speak with Miss Devon-Poole, but her reception was cool.
“I owe you a double apology,” he said quietly.
“Do you, sir?”
“You know I do. Not only was my brother responsible for putting you in an awkward situation yesterday, but I spoke sharply this afternoon when you did not deserve it. You were quite right to point out that the fault was mine, not yours.”
She looked surprised. “My goodness me, sir, I did not expect you to be so conciliating. You are not a man known for making pretty apologies.”
“I generally feel no need to do so,” Justin said. “However, I hope I am not a man known for avoiding apologies when I am at fault.”
“The confusion at your
aunts’ house was clearly your brother’s fault, not yours, sir.” With a smile and a flutter of eyelashes, she added sweetly, “Moreover, I make no doubt that you were enticed into that most distressing scene at Chiswick.”
“I’m sorry if you were distressed,” Justin said evenly. “However, I feel obliged to confess that if anyone did any enticing, it was I.”
She fluttered her lashes again, looking up from under them to say, “Very noble, sir, but it is not necessary to pretend such a thing to me.”
“There’s nothing noble about it, nor any pretense,” Justin said, nettled. “Lady Letitia wouldn’t have set foot back there had I not—” He fell silent, unwilling to explain details he believed were no business of Miss Devon-Poole’s.
Clearly she misunderstood him, for she said, “There, you see! You cannot offer me a falsehood, sir. I know—better than most, I daresay—that such a forward little Tory would never interest a good Whig gentleman like yourself.”
“One hesitates to contradict a lady, Miss Devon-Poole, but I cannot imagine why you should think yourself better qualified than most to judge the matter.” He looked her in the eye, daring her to say that he had somehow given her that right. He was certain that he had done no such thing, that any encouragement she believed he had given her had sprung from her imagination, if not from pure greed.
She met his gaze briefly. Then her eyes shifted and delicate color tinged her cheeks. “I should not have said that, my lord. Pray forgive me.”
“There is nothing to forgive,” Justin said. “Moreover, I know your reputation for fairness too well to fear that you might speak of what you alone saw today. The scene was not of Lady Letitia’s making, so it would be unfair to speak ill of her.”
“I do not indulge in common gossip, sir.”
“I know you do not.” He knew nothing of the sort, but he hoped his warning would do the trick, particularly since he had, he hoped, made plain to her that she, being the sole witness to the scene, would instantly be suspect if word of the kiss did get around. She might not know as much about him as she had suggested she did, but she certainly knew that he was no man to cross. He felt he could take hope from the cordial reception he had received from Sir Adrian and Lady Devon-Poole. Clearly Susan had not told her parents what she had seen.
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