by Joan Smith
Esmée bit her lip and did some rapid mental conjuring. Revel could easily enough check her story and confirm that she had given the bracelet back to Marchant. She was most eager to be rid of Marchant, and giving him the demmed bracelet was the likeliest way of accomplishing it. She made a little moue.
“Oh, very well,” she said, laughing. “Just let me speak to my dresser. Perhaps she has not returned it yet.”
She whisked out of the room and down to her bedchamber.
She was no sooner out of the saloon than the door knocker sounded again. Marchant was not slow to recognize the hated accents of Lord Revel. “Mrs. Gardener is expecting me, I believe.”
“Certainly, milord.”
Marchant had five seconds in which to consider the situation and make his decision. His dislike of Revel ran deep. What he really wanted to do was strike him, but as a duel at this time was really more than he could handle, he at least did not want to be disgraced in front of the man.
Rushed into folly by the advancing footsteps, Marchant ran behind the sofa and hid. He knew as soon as he had done it that it was foolish, but to suddenly rise and make his presence known seemed even worse. He consoled himself that Esmée would realize he was there and make short shrift of Revel.
Esmée returned in half a minute, carrying the bracelet. “Revel.” She smiled, looking around for Marchant, and was astonished to see no sign of him. She could only conclude he had heard Revel’s carriage approach, peeked out the window and identified it, and left. Which was all to the good.
“You are punctual, sir!” She spotted Lord James’s glass and quickly filled it up, before Revel saw it had been used. She handed it to him. “A quick drink, before you have to leave?”
“What, pushing me out the door before I have delivered the goods, Esmée?” he asked.
“You are not a minute too soon, Revel.” She laughed. “Marchant was just here, demanding his bracelet.”
“The devil you say! Did you give it to him?”
“I had just gone to get it. Here,” she said, handing it to him. “You’ll see he gets it?”
“I shall go directly to the Pelican from here.”
Marchant listened, trying to make sense of it. Revel was going to give the bracelet to him? Why would he do that?
Mrs. Gardener obligingly asked, “You are going to a great deal of trouble on his behalf. I daresay it has something to do with Miss Marchant?”
“But of course. I am trying to get her parents together, to show her how effectual I am.”
“Then are we to assume you are finally caught in the parson’s mousetrap?” Esmée asked.
“It looks that way,” he replied, “if the lady will have me.”
Mr. Marchant could hardly contain his delight. Revel marrying Tess! By Jove, wait till he told Lou this! She would welcome him with open arms when he ran this news to her. It was better than the diamond bracelet. Tess! Who would have thought it? Revel must be mad.
Mrs. Gardener thought the same thing, but her primary concern at that moment was Lord James, cooling his heels in her study. She wished to speed Revel’s departure. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” she asked coyly.
He reached into his jacket pocket and drew out the blue box. “Are you, by any chance, referring to this?” he asked.
She snatched the box and opened it. Her practiced eye soon recognized the superiority of the stones. She drew it out and tried to fasten it around her wrist. “Very nice, Revel. What lovely diamonds. Can you help me? I am all thumbs.”
This caused Marchant a moment’s pause. Revel giving Esmée diamonds when he was on the verge of offering for Tess? He was ready to take offense, until it occurred to him it was Revel’s farewell gift to Esmée. Very generous of him. What need had Esmée for a second bracelet, at such a time?
There was yet another knock at the front door. Revel looked up and smiled. James! He had an inkling he would not wait until Esmée got to London. Esmée could not think of anyone else of any importance who might be calling. It must be someone begging money for some charity.
Lord Revel reached forward and rambled with the catch of the bracelet. When it was secured, he held her wrist up and admired it. “You do the trinket proud, Esmée,” he said, and kissed her fingers in a gallant gesture.
He glanced to the doorway to see who the butler was showing in. His eyes grew large and. he dropped Esmée’s hand. “Tess!” he exclaimed.
Chapter Nineteen
All Tess’s rehearsed lines flew out of her head at the sight before her. Revel, not only comfortably ensconced in Esmée’s saloon, but actually kissing her. Tess’s throat felt as if it had caved in, preventing speech, and even breathing. Not so much as a strangled gasp escaped her lips. She just stood as though turned to stone, incapable of moving, while her heart crumbled to dust within her.
Until that moment, she had not really believed Revel had returned to Esmée. Oh, her mind grasped the fact, but her heart had never believed it.
Revel and Esmée seemed to be struck down with the same paralysis. The three remained perfectly immobile, staring at one another for what seemed a brief eternity, but was, in fact, thirty seconds. It was long enough for Tess to recognize Revel’s expression as guilt, rapidly changing to anger.
It was Esmée who recovered first. She withdrew her hand from Revel’s, gave his chin a playful tap, and said to Tess, “I believe it is Miss Marchant, is it not? Do come in, Miss Marchant.” The diamonds at Esmée’s wrist caught the light and scattered tiny rainbows in the air.
Tess pulled her eyes from the diamond bracelet and turned them to Revel. He had regained his sangfroid and forced a welcoming smile on his handsome face. Astonishment robbed him of his manners, however, and he forgot to rise. “Tess! What brings you here?” he asked in a strange voice.
After a few inaudible attempts, Tess finally forced out a speech, uttered in some stranger’s voice. “I came to see Mrs. Gardener, but I see she is busy. Pray, do not let me interrupt you.” She turned on her heel and fled the room, before her tears spurted. She would not cry in front of him!
Revel was suddenly galvanized into action. He jumped from the sofa and went after her. He caught her just as she was rushing to the front door. “Tess, don’t be an idiot!” he said.
She turned on him, fire sparking from her eyes. “Don’t you call me an idiot again!”
He raised his hands as though to ward off a blow. “It was just a manner of speech.”
“I don’t care for your manner of speech, sir, or for your manner of—of anything else!”
“Why did you come?” he asked. “You must have known I would be here.”
“I am not a mind reader. And don’t think I came in hopes of seeing you, because I did not.”
Their voices were perfectly audible to Esmée, who listened in amusement. Mr. Marchant also heard and was overcome with a dreadful fear that Tess was about to lose her coronet.
When Esmée rose and went into the hall, he peered above the sofa, contemplating how he could nudge Tess into line without revealing his presence. He saw his diamond bracelet on the sofa table and put it in his pocket while he had the opportunity.
Esmée said, “Miss Marchant, pray do not run away. Come and have a glass of wine.” She took Tess’s elbow to lead her back to the saloon.
The bracelet glittered enticingly, reminding Tess why she had come. Her eye was not so well trained in diamonds as her hostess’s. She mistook it for what she considered her mama's bracelet. Her life might be ruined, but maybe she could yet pull one little victory from the ashes. Esmée would not wish to appear grasping in front of her new lover. Tess let herself be returned to the saloon, and even accepted a glass of wine—with all the enthusiasm of Socrates accepting the glass of hemlock.
After a sustaining sip, she said, “I came to ask you if you would give me the bracelet Papa gave you. Mama will not have him back without it, you see, and as you have—have taken a new lover—”
“Tess!” Revel said in a
n admonishing tone, for there was no counting on Esmée to remain a lady in the face of such wanton provocation as this.
Esmée was kept in humor by her coming trip to London and the intriguing Lord James. She just gave Tess a blighting stare, then glanced to the table and noticed the bracelet was missing. She assumed Revel had taken it and replied, “You are mistaken, Miss Marchant. I do not take lovers. Your papa and I were platonic friends. When you are a little older, you will realize that such a thing is indeed possible. Your papa did not give me a diamond bracelet.”
Tess stared pointedly at her sparkling wrist and said, “I see,” in a tone of heavy sarcasm.
“You refer, I think, to the bracelet I helped your papa select for his wife.” Behind the sofa, Mr. Marchant smiled softly and listened while Esmée spoke on. “He left it here, as he did not wish to leave it at the inn, for fear of a robbery. Revel dropped by this evening to pick it up for him.”
“For Papa?” Tess asked. She had a pretty sound idea she was being conned—and wished to reveal Esmée as a liar.
“That’s right. Show her the bracelet, Revel, for if I am not mistaken, Miss Marchant thinks this one I am wearing is her mama’s bracelet.”
Revel looked to the table. Esmée did the same. They looked a question at each other, then both began scrabbling around the wineglasses and bibelots scattered on the table’s surface. “It’s gone!” Esmée exclaimed.
“How very strange!” Tess said triumphantly.
Marchant was on thorns to return the trinket to its rightful place, but could see no way of doing it without revealing his presence.
“It must have fallen,” Revel said, and leaned down to peer under the sofa, then around at the side. Marchant, seeing his chance, held out his arm and dangled the bracelet in the air. Revel, seeing only a disembodied arm, immediately suspected James. What series of events had pitched him behind the sofa was still to be discovered, but whatever rig James was running, there was no point in embarrassing him in front of Miss Marchant.
He took the bracelet and said, “Here it is. It must have fallen, as I said.”
“There you are then," Esmée said. “Give it to Miss Marchant, Revel, as she is so eager to have it.”
Tess accepted it and put it in her reticule, while trying to think of some smart retort for Esmée’s insinuating charge.
Revel could foresee nothing but disaster from prolonging the visit. “I shall take you home, Tess,” he said, and reached for her hand.
“Let Miss Marchant finish her wine, Revel,” Esmée said. “You will give her the idea she is not welcome.”
“I would not dream of taking you away, Lord Revel,” Tess said coldly. “I have the carriage waiting.”
“I was just about to leave,” he insisted. “I only came to pick up your mama’s bracelet. We shall take it to Mr. Marchant, at the Pelican.”
Marchant smiled in satisfaction. That was a close call, but things were working out nicely. As soon as they left, he’d run out into the street and grab a hansom cab to take him to the Pelican.
No sounds had penetrated to the study for some fifteen minutes now. Lord James wondered if Revel had left yet. He had thought Esmée would call him, but perhaps she was lending credence to the polite fiction that he had letters to write and was not going to disturb him. Surely it would not take Revel more than fifteen minutes to say good-bye. James was eager to get back to the widow. He quietly opened the door and cocked his ear toward the saloon, heard nothing, and took a few steps forward.
“There is no need for us both to go. I shall take it,” Tess said firmly.
Hearing the echo of Tess Marchant’s voice, Lord James became extremely curious. He tiptoed forward, hoping for a quick peek before darting back to the study. One peek was all it took for Tess to spot him.
“Lord James!” she exclaimed.
“Good evening,” he said. Forced to put a good complexion on his appearance, he entered and bowed to the group, then turned to Esmée. “Mrs. Gardener, I see Revel is here, so I shall not have to introduce myself. He suggested I call on you before leaving for London. I hear you are about to go there, too.”
Tess heard this with delight. She looked to Revel, planning to honor him with a smile, but he was paying her no heed. Revel looked from Lord James to the sofa. How had he done that? Was the man a magician?
Revel looked behind the sofa and found himself staring into the beleaguered face of Mr. Marchant. Marchant lifted a finger to his lips, pleading for silence. Revel controlled his vocal organs, but his body gave an uncontrolled leap and his face looked as if he had seen a ghost. Soon Esmée and Tess went to have a look.
“Mr. Marchant!”
“Papa!”
Marchant rose and smiled all around. “I cannot find it, Esmée,” he said, frowning in perplexity, then explained to the others. “I have been searching on hands and knees for the crown of my watch. It fell off when I was winding my timepiece, and rolled under the sofa. Perhaps your servant will come across it when she is sweeping, Esmée. Well, well. I see quite a little party has collected while I have been searching. Tess, Lord James, Revel.” He bowed to each in turn.
“Papa!” Tess exclaimed. "What on earth are you doing here?”
“Did I not just say I was looking for my crown?”
“Yes, but—”
Revel took pity on the man and cut Tess off in midspeeeh. “Let us all have a look for it,” he suggested.
“Never mind,” Marchant said. “The jeweler can replace it, I daresay.”
Lord James recognized a havey-cavey situation when he stumbled into one and threw his mite in to salvage the affair. “Quite a little party,” he said, happy to divert attention from his own magical appearance. He would wait until the others had left before asking Esmée what the devil was going on.
“I did not hear you come in, James,” Revel said.
“Did you not? With two ladies to entertain, it is not to be wondered at. I just arrived. The butler was busy, and I did not have myself announced.”
“Lord James is going to call on me in London,” Esmée said, unwittingly revealing that she had already had words with him.
Revel and James exchanged an amused look.
Marchant drew out his watch and said, “Well, it is getting pretty late.” When he noticed the crown in place, to give the lie to his tale, he covered it with his thumb, but not before Revel’s sharp eyes had seen it.
“Indeed it is. We shall leave you in peace now, Mrs. Gardener,” Revel said. “I wish you every happiness in London. And you, James,” he added, with a lifted brow.
“Do drop in when you are in town, Revel,” James said. “Always room for one more at Berkeley Square.”
“Not for long, though,” Revel said, but he said it in a low voice and with a smile.
Mrs. Gardener went to the door to speed the three parting guests.
It was a clear, cold night. Moonlight silvered the cobblestones and a cutting wind blew a few stray snowflakes through the still air.
“Thank God you have the carriage, Tess,” Marchant said. “You have the bracelet?”
She handed it to him. “You have some explaining to do, Papa,” she said.
“Not in this filthy wind. Meet us at the Pelican, Revel. Or will you go with Revel, Tess?”
“I shall go with you, Papa,” she said, and marched to their carriage.
“Papa, what were you doing there?” she demanded as soon as they were alone.
“Why, I went to get your mama’s bracelet, to be sure, same as you, Tess. What should I be doing at Mrs. Gardener’s?”
“Revel said he went to pick up the bracelet.”
Invention was not yet at an end. Marchant searched his mind and said, “He was to go with me, in case your mama did not like my going alone, but he was late. I was so eager to have the matter sewn up that I went along without him.”
“It seems very strange,” she said, dissatisfied.
“What seems a deal stranger to me, miss, is your goi
ng to such a house. That was completely uncalled for.”
“If you had to live at Bartlett Street with Mama in the boughs you would not ask why I went.”
“How is she?” he asked in a softer voice.
“How do you think she would be, when you have been carrying on with that woman? This must stop, Papa. She has had more than enough of your chasing after lightskirts. If it happens again, she shan’t have you back. She really means it this time. You have hurt her very badly, and Dulcie, too. And me, Papa,” she added, with a wounded look.
“It won’t happen again, my dear. I am through with all that. You’ll see. And now let us speak of your future, my dear. You have done pretty well, nabbing young Revel.”
“I have not nabbed him, and don’t you dare suggest to him that he must marry me.”
“I suggest it? Did I not hear him with my own ears tell Esmée he plans to marry you, if you’ll have him?”
“Did he say that?” Tess asked in a trembling voice.
“I heard him plain as day, when I was—harumph—looking for my crown. Found it in my pocket, after all that searching. Heh, heh.”
Tess’s bemused state let him get away with that awful plumper. They met Revel at the Pelican, but there no longer seemed any necessity to go inside. Reconciling with his wife was more important to Lyle than packing up his belongings and paying the reckoning. He would do. that tomorrow. They decided to drive directly to Bartlett Street.
Marchant said, “Just leave me alone in the carriage, Tess, so that I may work up a pretty little speech to make to your mama. You can go with Lord Revel.”
“We’ll give you some time alone before we go in,” Revel said.
He directed his groom to drive west, toward the Crescent Gardens. While they drove through the city, Revel said, “There was something very strange about that visit to Esmée’s. I felt I had fallen into a French farce, with people popping out from nowhere. I fully expected a screen to fall over, revealing your mama and Dulcie.”
“Except there was not any screen. Did Papa ask you to go with him?”
