It was a pleasing encounter and, with so much to be told on both sides, they had broached the third bottle – mostly thanks to the Vidame – before his Grace found himself once more recounting the excuse of the snuff-box – more, this time, for the sake of continuity than in the hope of striking a chord.
Then it happened. The Vidame began to laugh gently and said, ‘Really, my friend, you are so very English are you not? You leave your ravishing bride to search for a snuff-box – no, no! Do not interrupt. I am very sure you wouldn’t have married her if she was not entirely exquisite. And this, doubtless, is why you haven’t brought her with you.’
‘You think I feared to have her fall victim to your fatal charm, Raoul?’ enquired Rockliffe lazily.
‘Naturally! But I forgive you. It is very understandable. I even forgive you for not visiting me in my miserable cell – for you are about to be extremely sorry that you didn’t.’
‘Am I?’
‘But yes!’ D’Aurillac grinned wickedly. ‘For if you had, you might even now be cradling in your hand the … what was it? … ah yes. The rare antique ivory box you say you came here to find.’
Heavy lids veiled the dark eyes and there was a long silence. Then his Grace said softly, ‘Raoul … are you telling me you know where to find Michel du Plessis?’
‘How could I not? He is my tenant. But I have to say, my friend, that I can’t imagine him leaving France – let alone travelling to London and buying snuff-boxes of any age or rarity.’
‘Ah.’ Rockliffe stared meditatively into his glass. ‘But life is full of surprises, is it not?’
‘And mysteries,’ nodded the Vidame with cheerful cynicism. ‘But tonight, for you, I will break the habit of a lifetime and not ask awkward questions – much though I would like to.’ He paused. And then, ‘Very well. You will find Michel du Plessis at a small farm just outside Nevers – and I hope your business with him prospers. All I ask in return is that, next time you come to Paris, you will bring your lovely duchess.’
*
Early next morning, Rockliffe set off alone on horseback along the valley of the Loire and, two days later, reached the small town of Nevers where he obtained directions to du Plessis’ farm. He could not help wondering what – or, more particularly, who – he would find there. It had not seemed politic to ask the Vidame about du Plessis’ wife. Last night Raoul had been disposed towards discretion; today … who knew?
The farmhouse was a pretty place, well-kept and prosperous-looking. But it was the tiny garden – still, despite the lateness of the season, a riot of colour – that took Rockliffe’s eye for it struck him as somehow untypical. Then the door opened … and all thought was temporarily suspended.
There was no doubting who she was. The line of brow and cheek and jaw – the wide mouth and long, slender neck – even the grace of her step, were all heart-stoppingly familiar. Caught unprepared, the Duke remained where he was and simply stared. Then, mercifully, she came closer and the differences became visible; the dark brown hair was lightly frosted with silver … and her eyes, not aquamarine but blue, were lucent with a serenity Adeline had never possessed.
She reached the end of the path and looked up at him, the narrow brows expressing faint surprise.
‘Can I help you, monsieur? You are looking for my husband, perhaps?’
The voice was different too, thank God. Rockliffe pulled himself together, smiled and came collectedly from the saddle.
‘No, madame. I think … indeed, I am very sure … that it is you I came to see.’
‘I?’ She looked doubtfully at the elegance of his person. ‘But I don’t think - ’
‘No. We have never met. And my name – which is Wynstanton – will probably mean nothing to you.’ He paused briefly and switched from French to English. ‘I am the Duke of Rockliffe, madame. And though I have strong reasons for coming here to find you, I do not think there is anything in them that need distress you.’
Some of the colour left her face and she laid one hand on the gate, as if for support. Then, still in French, she said stiffly, ‘I cannot imagine what an English Duke might want with – with the wife of a French farmer.’
‘Can you not?’
She shook her head emphatically. ‘No.’
His Grace hesitated and then said gently, ‘There really is no cause for alarm … Joanna.’
‘Oh God.’ Her hand closed hard on the gate and this time she answered him in English. ‘You know who I am. How? Why are you here?’
‘Primarily, I suppose, to make your acquaintance.’
‘I don’t understand why you should - ’ She stopped and drew a long, bracing breath. ‘Very well. You’d better come inside and tell me what it is you want.’
The parlour into which she led him was as neat as a pin and comfortable. Rockliffe took the seat she indicated and, coming directly to the point, said simply, ‘You left a daughter behind you in England. She is now my wife.’
Joanna sank abruptly down on a cushioned settle.
‘Adeline?’ she said weakly. ‘You’ve married my Adeline?’
‘Just so.’
She stared at the tall, suave and exceptionally good-looking man who claimed to be her son-in-law and said helplessly, ‘But you … you said you were a Duke.’
‘And so I am.’ A tiny gleam disturbed the gravity of his expression. ‘And ‘your Adeline’ is now my duchess. You would be proud, I think, to see how well it suits her.’
‘I’m sorry. I can’t … it’s difficult to take in.’ Her hands twisted restlessly in her lap and at length she said, ‘They told her I was dead.’
‘Yes.’
‘They told her I was dead … and, even when I knew, I let it go on. It seemed better that way. I couldn’t take her from Tom, you see – and it wasn’t right to leave her handicapped for life by my disgrace.’ She paused and looked him full in the face, her expression anguished. ‘It was never that I didn’t want her – but how can she ever understand that? Now that she’s discovered the truth, she must hate me.’
‘As yet, madame, she knows nothing.’
Her eyes widened. ‘Then how did you find out?’
‘Let us say that – thanks to a series of small coincidences – I guessed.’ He smiled at her. ‘It is a facility that I have. And, having guessed, Sir Roland was … persuaded … to confide in me.’
‘But you – you haven’t told Adeline?’
‘No. It seemed preferable to wait until I could offer a complete story … and there is still, I regret to say, just one very delicate question I must ask you.’
‘Of course.’ Her hands were at rest now but her tone was wry. ‘You want to know if Adeline is Tom Kendrick’s child, do you not? But before I answer it, I want to know if it matters.’
‘To me – not in the slightest; to Adeline – quite a lot, I should imagine. And she will ask, you see.’
Her shoulders relaxed and she seemed to sigh.
‘Forgive me asking … but do you love her?’
‘Yes. Very much.’
‘And she? Does she love you?’
‘I don’t know,’ Rockliffe replied truthfully. ‘Obviously, I’d like to think so but – after almost five months of marriage – I still can’t be sure.’
The blue eyes dwelled on him thoughtfully and it was a long time before she spoke. Then, with a smile of unexpected warmth, she said, ‘Adeline is as legitimate as you are, your Grace. Had she not been Tom’s child, I could never have left her.’
‘Thank you. I had suspected as much.’
‘I’m glad to hear it.’ She came smoothly to her feet. ‘I think it’s high time I fetched some wine. And then, as you wish, you may tell me all about it.’
His desire to do exactly that surprised him and he gave way to it without hesitation. Joanna cried a little when he described Adeline’s life in the Franklin household; she shook her head over his account of the night of the ball when he’d proposed; and she listened in thoughtful silence when he spoke –
somewhat less smoothly – of the difficulties within his marriage.
At the end of it all, she said angrily, ‘They have damaged her, haven’t they – Miriam and Richard and the rest of them?’
‘I think so. Yes.’
‘You say she’s reserved and distant – that, at times, she retreats to a place where even you can’t reach her. And that’s why. I could kill Miriam.’
‘I’m not too fond of her myself,’ agreed Rockliffe.
‘She’s not your sister.’
‘No. But I have one almost equally unlikeable.’
A tiny laugh escaped her at that. She said, ‘Aside from the obvious, I’m beginning to feel that Adeline is very fortunate.’
‘I am delighted that you think so.’ His smile, this time, was a trifle crooked. ‘I shall be even more delighted when I can be sure Adeline thinks so, too.’
Joanna thought for a moment and then said slowly, ‘Forgive my asking … but have you actually told her that you love her?’
‘Not in so many words, no.’
‘Then perhaps you should. I imagine they are words she has not heard for a very long time – if ever.’
‘That thought had occurred to me.’
‘Then why haven’t you remedied it?’
‘Because I couldn’t be certain she was ready to hear it.’ Rockliffe paused and then, shrugging slightly, added, ‘And because I’ve never said those words to any woman before. Nor even wanted to.’
Joanna reflected that, if the little she had seen of him was any true indication, it was difficult to understand how her daughter – or indeed, any woman – could have lived with this man for five months and not be totally bouleversé. But, as she rose to refill his glass, she said merely, ‘This hasn’t been easy for you, has it?’
‘Not particularly. But I daresay it’s done me no harm to become a little less sure of myself. And my feelings aren’t the issue here.’
‘Aren’t they?’
‘No. My chief concern at the moment is that something happened a few weeks ago to undo everything I thought I’d achieved. And she won’t tell me what it is.’
There was a long silence and then Joanna said, ‘Is my brother Richard in London?’
‘Yes. Why?’
‘Be wary of him. He was a sly, sadistic child who enjoyed trapping birds and drowning kittens. He’s weak – but flawed. And it wouldn’t surprise me if he tried to do you – or Adeline – a mischief of some kind just for the fun of it. I’m not saying that he is the cause of your problem – merely that you shouldn’t discount him.’
‘That is interesting advice. I’ll bear it in mind.’
The afternoon sped by as they talked … and when Michel du Plessis came in with the limp that had made him quit the army, Rockliffe saw that the love for which Joanna Kendrick had left her husband and child still glowed like a beacon.
‘You don’t judge us,’ remarked Michel after a time.
‘No. That would be impertinent. And what right have I?’ the Duke replied. And found himself accepting an invitation to stay the night.
It was not until the following morning when he was preparing to leave that Joanna, from within Michel’s sheltering arm, voiced the question that must have been in her mind all along.
‘When you go back – will you tell her?’
‘Yes – though perhaps not immediately. If I am to minimise the shock, I’ll need to choose the moment carefully.’
‘Of course. But when you do tell her … if she should feel disposed to come … will you bring her here?’ she asked diffidently. ‘I should so very much like to see her.’
Rockliffe took her hand and, with a swift uncluttered smile, said, ‘I know. And you may be sure that, if she wishes it, I shall bring her to you. In the meantime, there is no need at all for any anxiety. I assure you that I am to be trusted.’
‘Yes.’ Joanna smiled back at him. ‘Yes. I know that you are.’
*
After an absence of three weeks and having stopped off in Paris to collect Mr Osborne, send both the Vidame d’Aurillac and Monsieur and Madame du Plessis a dozen bottles of Sancerre wine and, finally, purchase an extremely pretty aquamarine and diamond ring from a shop on the Rue St Honoré, the Duke walked into his house at around eight in the evening and asked for his wife.
‘Her Grace and Lady Elinor,’ came the grandiloquent reply, ‘are dining with the Marquis and Marchioness of Amberley in Hanover Square. A small family party, as I understand it, your Grace.’
‘And I away? How very uncivil of them,’ drawled Rockliffe. ‘They might have waited. Do you not think they might have waited, Robert?’
Robert Symonds was not deceived but it was beneath his dignity to smile.
‘Lord Amberley,’ he announced, ‘has been in town for a week, your Grace.’
‘Only a week? A bagatelle, Robert. I am cut to the quick. And I do not think … I really do not think that they can be allowed to perpetrate this atrocity.’ Rockliffe paused and with laughter in his eyes, contemplated his immaculate travelling-dress of sapphire broadcloth. ‘The only question is – will they let me in or shall I be turned ignominiously away?’
The faintest of tremors afflicted Symonds’ expression. In all his time in the Duke’s service, he had never known his noble employer go out incorrectly attired.
‘Your Grace could change?’ he ventured to suggest.
‘I could,’ agreed his Grace with reflective devilry. ‘But for a small family party, I do not think I will. And it would be a shame, would it not, to spoil the effect?’
In Hanover Square, the Marquis of Amberley’s butler welcomed the latecomer without so much as a blink and informed him that the company had but now sat down to dine.
‘As well as her Grace and Lady Elinor, it is only Lord Philip and Lady Isabel with Mr Ingram and Lord Harry, your Grace. Not a large party. And my lord Amberley will be delighted to see you, I’m sure.’
‘Thank you, Barrow. You relieve my mind.’
‘Not at all, your Grace. Does your Grace wish to be announced?’
‘An interesting question.’ Rockliffe appeared to consider it. ‘But no. I think not. I believe I am inclined to … make an entrance … if you will be so good as to humour me.’
Then, smiling a little, he opened the door and went in.
Harry was the first to see him. He said resignedly, ‘I might have known it! You smelled the pheasant.’ And thus heralded a melée of bantering welcome.
Adeline stopped breathing and narrowly avoided choking over a morsel of turbot. She was so glad to see him she could have cried and an epic blush stained her skin. Mercifully, everyone’s attention was on her husband as he bowed extravagantly over Rosalind’s hand. Or so she thought. Lord Amberley, seeing her breath catch and the way the light suddenly flared in her eyes, smiled to himself before turning his gaze on his friend.
‘Rosalind, my love … you look radiant,’ Rockliffe was saying. ‘Motherhood must suit you. Dare I hope you will also be charitable enough to forgive me for ruining your party?’
‘It’s possible,’ she retorted. And then, lightly touching his cuff, ‘I thought so. You certainly wasted no time, did you? I hope Adeline is suitably flattered.’
Fortunately, since Adeline was still incapable of speech, Jack filled the gap by saying easily, ‘I daresay she would be – except that, like us, she suspects he is merely eager for his dinner.’
‘Damned Jack-in-the-Box,’ grinned the Marquis, signing a footman to lay another place. ‘He only does these things for effect.’
Rockliffe, by this time, had reached his wife’s side and was melting her bones with the lazy glinting smile that was so peculiarly his own. He said, ‘I am maligned. And why does everyone talk about me as if I weren’t here?’
‘Probably,’ responded Adeline creditably, ‘out of habit.’
‘Do I detect a note of displeasure over the length of my absence? How charming!’
‘Is it?’
‘But of course. On
ly think of the fun you can have encouraging me to make it up to you.’ And, possessing himself of her hand, he placed a warm, lingering kiss in her palm.
Laughter became the key to the evening. Only Nell, nervous lest Rockliffe discover her misdemeanour, stayed unhappily on the fringe until Harry took pity on her and said quietly, ‘Stop worrying. It’s all in the past and Rock won’t eat you. In fact, just to make sure he doesn’t, I thought I might have a word with him myself.’
The great dark eyes regarded him wonderingly.
‘Would you really? That’s kind of you. I – I don’t know why you should bother to help me, though.’
‘Don’t you?’ he asked dryly. And then, ‘No. Come to think of it, you probably don’t. I haven’t been very kind recently, have I?’
‘N-no. But I deserved that.’
‘True – but that’s not the reason. I don’t suppose it occurred to you that, under the circumstances, a defence that was too obviously partisan would be seen as no defence at all?’
It took Nell a moment to work this out. Then, a faint glow touching her cheeks, she said, ‘Oh – I see. You wanted everyone to think you didn’t c-care about me in the least.’
‘You could put it that way.’
‘How clever of you. And is that why you were … flirting with Diana?’
‘Oh no.’ An unholy gleam lit the seraphic blue eyes. ‘That was for a different purpose altogether.’
Later, while Rockliffe was above stairs admiring his friend’s son and heir, Isabel took the opportunity to say softly to Adeline, ‘I take it Rock doesn’t know about Nell’s little escapade?’
‘No. You’re going to suggest I tell him before someone else does – and you’re right. Unfortunately, it’s not that simple.’
Isabel looked at her for a moment and then sighed.
‘Don’t tell me. The fell hand of Harry. Has he any idea what he’s asking of you?’
‘Oh yes. And when the thunderbolt strikes, I’ve his full permission to disclaim all knowledge. But since I can’t do that, I suppose I’d better have a stern word with him. Why is nothing straightforward any more?’
But his lordship, when she approached him, proved to be surprisingly amenable.
Mesalliance Page 25
