"In fact, our society is more relaxed than yours, and what is scandalous here would not be so at home. But still I feel myself at fault."
A footman brought tea. The ladies had barely settled for a comfortable cose before Charles was returned. His face was as pale as when he had left the room.
Both ladies regarded him anxiously for he seemed unable, or unwilling, to speak.
Lady Slimbridge waved him again to a chair, and pressed a cup of tea into his hand. "Well?" she asked.
He seemed to recover a little, of a sudden. "He said yes! He said I might pay my addresses to Susannah, and I was a welcome addition to the family, and that a very long betrothal was out of the question." He collapsed back in his chair. His colour gradually returned to normal, and an expression of beatific peace crept over his attractive features.
"I will have my writing desk then." Lady Slimbridge set her teacup aside and rang for the footman. "We shall begin planning for the betrothal party."
***
The Manningford party took dinner together in the suite at Grillon's.
Delia spoke little but took delight in watching the faces of the gentlemen, as Charles recounted the day to his brother. Torgreave received news of the betrothal with every evidence of pleasure.
"As Delia and I took our leave, Lady Slimbridge asked me to return at four o'clock to speak with Susannah, for you must know she had gone to sit with Aurora Taunton. Oh, and Finglas and Aurora are betrothed as well," Charles said.
Rupert nodded his understanding of this extra piece of news.
Charles continued, "When I returned to North Audley Street, Susannah had not yet come home. I waited what seemed an age before she was ushered in. Oh, she looked so lovely, and was so shy and yet composed. She hesitated but briefly when I presented my proposal, and accepted in the sweetest fashion I could have imagined."
Rupert choked and put his napkin to his twitching mouth. His brother helpfully thumped him on the back.
"The formal notice will appear tomorrow, and we are to celebrate with a betrothal party in North Audley Street, in a sen'night." Charles ignored the food before him, and could not apparently forbear to talk. "It is a dream come true. A miracle wrought by Delia's timely appearance."
"Oh, surely not," she protested. She coloured with pleasure at the thought that she had assisted Charles' suit.
"Had you not come to London, Rupert would not have come to Manningford, and Sir Thomas would not have believed in Rupert's reformation. He would never have permitted Susannah's betrothal to me," Charles explained.
"I am reluctant to claim this honour." Delia protested with a laugh. "If you have a dismal marriage, am I to be blamed then?"
Charles stared at her. "A dismal marriage? That would never be," he stated.
"We are in fact all indebted to Inniskip, without whose lies none of this would have been possible." Rupert's words and his tone indicated he had not yet forgiven his housekeeper.
"Indeed," Delia said. She could not argue with the truth of his statement. She stared at him, at the reflection of her own face, with a pain she thought she could not bear.
***
Notice of the betrothal duly appeared in the newspapers. Plans for Charles and Susannah's betrothal party proceeded apace. Lady Slimbridge became Delia's frequent visitor. If she noticed her hostess' drawn face and increasingly quiet manner, she said nothing of it. Rather she requested Delia's advice and enlisted her assistance.
"How does Sir Thomas' regard the necessity to meet Rupert again with compliance and the appearance of pleasure?" Delia asked Lady Slimbridge on a mild, cloudy Tuesday a week before the party.
"With resignation. I have not teased him about it, for he has been busy attending the meetings of the Royal Institution."
"The Institution!" said Delia. "Why, Rupert is a member. I wonder they have not met there. Has Sir Thomas an interest in natural philosophy?"
"He has only lately developed it."
"We have in our hands the very tool for Sir Thomas and the earl to be united. Or at least for Sir Thomas to be reconciled to the inclusion of Torgreave in his family. Rupert is an active member of the Institution and of the Astronomy Society. His membership will surely convince Sir Thomas of his serious nature."
"You may well be right, my dear." Lady Slimbridge appeared much struck by the idea. "I shall see that he knows of it. But now I must be on my way. There are a hundred things to be done. Have you had an invitation to Aurora Taunton's ball? We shall not aspire to such heights of decoration or repast as the Tauntons may command, but I fancy our party will be pleasant." She approached the door, even as there came a tap upon it.
It opened to admit the footman of the hotel who procured letters each day from the Receiving Office. He proferred a salver to Delia on which reposed one letter. From a quick glance, Delia saw it to be from Lady Barbara.
Lady Slimbridge smiled. "I shall leave you to your correspondence my dear. Good- bye."
Delia bade her a fond farewell abstractedly. When the door closed she balanced the letter in her hands. It was thick, and it was unlike Lady Barbara to pay for two sheets. Delia broke the seal, a little fear piercing her heart. She seated herself near the window of the parlour.
Torgreave found her there, two hours after she had sat down. Her blue eyes were drowned in unshed tears when she realized his arrival and looked up. She gestured at the letter in her lap.
"It is over," she said. "Aunt Barbara has confirmed our worst suspicions."
Rupert knelt beside her chair with swift grace. He knocked the letter to the floor, as he seized her hands. "Tell me," he urged.
"You may read...."
"Later. Just now I wish only to hear it."
"My aunt has been to Carvosway." Delia drew a deep shuddering breath. "She made discreet inquiries and found at first nothing of interest. Then she came upon a cottager, a Mrs. Nevis, who attended my mother's lying-in, and became my wet nurse." Her tears trickled down her face. "With my aunt's urging, Mrs. Nevis recalled that time very well. My mother had unburdened herself to Mrs. Nevis, had confided that all was not well between her husband and herself. She confessed that a friend of Lord Tyninghame's had visited some months before, and had been kind and attentive, at a time when she was feeling neglected and unloved. He was English, dark and bonny, and the name Manningford was familiar to Mrs. Nevis. Rupert, Rupert...you are my brother." She broke down, and wept unrestrainedly.
Rupert took her in his arms, and then rising, carried her to the sopha. There he cradled her against his chest, his cheek against her satin hair, and his eyes full of grief.
It was thus that Morag Lochmaddy found them, some little time later. She drew an outraged breath. The warning in Torgreave's pain-wracked face silenced her.
"We have had, from Lady Barbara, proof that we are indeed brother and sister. We had wished for a more distant relationship, as you are probably aware." He rose and assisted Delia to rise, and gave her into Morag's capable hands. "I will put things in train for your return to Edinburgh. Have a care for your mistress, Mrs. Lochmaddy."
Rupert waited hours for Charles' return. They were agonizing hours, spent in fruitless reflection.
He drew Charles to his bedchamber to reveal the news. "It appears that we have a sister. Here is the letter. You may read it."
He sat in silence, watching his younger brother. Charles' mobile face expressed all his emotions as he read. Torgreave's own face was drawn and deadly calm.
"Well, this is not unexpected news," Charles said at last. "And I am not unhappy for it. But for you...you love her don't you?"
Rupert betrayed his surprise by a gesture.
"Oh, I have not been so bound up in my own affairs that I have not seen it. You love Delia, and not as a sister. And so your hopes of happiness are dashed. What now?"
"I hardly know. She will return to Edinburgh," Rupert drew a shaking hand across his face with a weary gesture. "I have still to question Augustus. If that comes to naught I will retire to
Manningford, which she has made into a home, and I will live an exemplary life. As I would if I could take her to wife."
"And what do we tell the world?"
"Naught but what it knows already. Delia remains our Scots cousin, who came for a visit, and will not come again."
* * *
"Dear Aunt, The News contained in your recent letter has Disordered us greatly. I am returning Home immediately, and shall hope to regain some Peace there."
CHAPTER NINE
Delia had never been a believer in the romantic theory that hearts might break. In the following days, however, she became convinced that her life, if not her heart, was torn asunder. She subsisted prior to Charles' betrothal party through a daily suspension of emotion. She moved through the daylight hours with her eyes dry. In the darksome hours of the night, she wept, attended in silence by Morag Lochmaddy. Only eight days remained until her departure. It seemed an eternity.
Rupert was rarely in her company. His presence and his absence were equally difficult to bear. When she saw him, the deepening lines in his expressive face told of his suffering. She knew it was for them both that he kept his distance. She had no knowledge of his activities or of the reasons for his frequent absences. Charles, ministering to them both in what he admitted was the most difficult situation he had ever encountered, conducted himself with brotherly affection.
When she could steel herself, Delia entertained visitors. An astute observer might have found something wooden in her manner, and might occasionally surprise a curious anguish in her expression. Lady Slimbridge was the only acquaintance acute enough to notice and she, during her visits, said nothing. Miss Slimbridge, who had been entrusted by Charles with the entire tale, kept her knowledge to herself. She was sweetly and unobtrusively supportive.
Aurora Taunton and Captain Finglas, beaming with happiness, called one warm morning a week before the festivities. They bore an invitation for the Manningford party to attend their betrothal ball in a month's time.
Delia was spared the necessity to reply to the invitation as Aurora hurried to apologize for any distress she had caused by her escapade. It was prettily done but she spoiled her effect by saying, "It was all worthwhile!" And she tossed a saucy glance at the Captain.
Before he stammered his thanks for Delia's kindness to them both, he frowned at his betrothed. Delia read both love and reproof in his expression.
Delia could scarcely bear their happy presence. She was relieved when Morag Lochmaddy interrupted the visit to advise of the delivery of the silver gauze gown that Delia would wear to Charles and Susannah's party.
Upon hearing of the delivery, the Captain bore Miss Taunton away. Delia said her farewells with relief. Later she examined the gown with an aching head and little interest.
Five days prior to the celebrations, she sat through a morning visit from Hugh Taunton. He displayed a friendly interest in her future plans, and divulged that he would be pleased to visit her in Edinburgh. When she extended him a formal invitation, he seemed particularly gratified. Privately she considered that to see any of Rupert's friends in her Scottish home would compound her anguish. But she resolved to deal with that eventuality when it arose, and smiled at him. The gesture took all her fortitude.
Late in that same afternoon she sat by the open window of the parlour. The trees in the square were in full leaf, and the breeze that lifted her curls was soft and warm. Entering quietly, Bowland announced Major Rhyle's arrival. She declined, without excuse, to entertain him. She could not know if he was aware of her discovery of relationship to Rupert, but she could not risk his sympathy. She was convinced that it would prove to be her undoing, and chose therefore to avoid his presence. She wondered where Rupert was, and how he fared.
He had in fact been run to earth at White's by the major. He looked up from the brandy glass in his hand, to discover Rhyle standing before him...a formidable sight.
"Sit down, damn you," he said. He surveyed his friend grimly, when the big man complied.
"Why did Miss Tyninghame refuse to see me?" Rhyle asked.
"How should I know?"
The major did not respond.
Torgreave shrugged. "She probably feared you would be sympathetic and she would weep. She likely thought you would gallantly offer her your hand in marriage, and worsen the coil."
"What the devil are you talking about?"
Rupert saw his friend's glance at his wine glass. "I am not on the go," he said. "I will not be taking to the bottle again. Lady Barbara, bless her heart, reports she has proof Delia and I are brother and sister. Delia wishes to return to Edinburgh, but has obliged Charles by staying her departure until after the betrothal party. She has no wish to see me, and I...I cannot be with Delia without straining my sanity." He halted, unable to continue.
"What a devilish turn of events," the big man said. "Is there aught I can do to help?"
"Nothing," Rupert said. "She leaves in five days. I shall depart shortly thereafter for Paris, but she will not wait for Augustus' information, if, damn him, he has any."
"Revenge might improve your mood. Turn off the housekeeper," Rhyle suggested tongue-in-cheek.
"Delia has required my promise that I will not."
They both were silent considering the infuriating virtues of Miss Tyninghame.
"Years ago, I would not have said that you could love anyone," the major said. "And I would have vowed that you had no heart to lose."
"I would have agreed," Rupert said. "I had endured all sorts and degrees of misery, and supposed that I would never love. I also believed I was inured to hurt. I find I am not, and this is by far the worst I have ever experienced. And it will not disappear. I shall grow accustomed to the pain, but it will never leave me."
Gideon did not seem to find his words unbelievable. He said, "In the ideal, love should not engender distress."
"There is no ideal." Rupert advised. "Never seek to love."
***
Two days before the evening party, Delia carefully packed her needlework into her work basket. Morag Lochmaddy entered the parlour carrying a laden tray.
"Major Rhyle has called."
"I will not see him."
"Very well. But ye cannot attend this rout if you will not eat." Morag's words were blunt. "Ye will be ill."
Delia knew that her companion was observing her pale face and the muslin gown that hung on her reduced figure. Delia could not bear the pity in the Scotswoman's eyes, but some part of her took comfort from it. She said, "I would welcome that. I should not have to attend."
Morag shook her ginger-haired head. "Ye cannot leave if you are ill, and if you do not leave, you will prolong the agony."
"I will not be ill, but I cannot eat," Delia protested. She sat, with a sigh.
"Then drink at least this tea, and the toddy," the Scotswoman wheedled.
"Very well," Delia agreed. She picked up the cup, and despite herself savoured the aroma of the fragrant tea. "You have everything packed? We are prepared to leave immediately the day after the party?"
"Only three more days," Morag assured her once more. "We are ready. Will you not see the major? He has stood a good friend to you."
"He will offer support and solutions. I shall weep and he will be distressed. I cannot see him."
"You have no choice." The major's deep voice sounded at the door. He had apparently induced Bowland to show him in unannounced.
Morag subsided into a chair near the fireplace, without speaking.
Delia knew Rhyle observed the dark circles about her eyes and her increased fragility with his keen soldier's gaze.
He did not remark upon it as he bowed over her hand. "My visit will be brief. I am mindful that you have not wished to see me," he said. He chose a substantial chair, when she indicated he should sit.
"Not because of any distaste for your company," Delia said. "But because you are too kind, and too good a friend."
He dismissed that with a gesture. "I dislike to see my friends unha
ppy. But I am well aware that there is nothing I can do to alter matters for you. For either of you. I have nothing to offer but sympathy, and I think, my farewell. I have not an invitation to the betrothal party. I did not expect it, for my acquaintance there is of the slightest. So I shall not see you again, and I must say good bye."
"Will you take refreshment? Mrs. Lochmaddy just brought me some tea." Delia surveyed his pleasant face. She hoped that some day he would find a love as great as she now experienced, despite the pain it could cause.
"No, I thank you. I wished you to know that I am ever at your service, if you have need of anything. I hope we shall meet again, that something may yet be resolved to settle your future as you desire it." He rose to his imposing full height.
Her eyes, as she had predicted, did fill with anguished tears. "I cling to no false hopes," she said.
"Do not dismiss the possibility of miracles," he said.
"Can a soldier talk of miracles?" she asked. She strove to hold her voice steady, her tears from falling.
"I have seen them happen," he said in all seriousness. He bowed over her hand. "Good bye."
Delia responded, "God go with you."
He cleared his throat as he released her slim fingers, but he said nothing. He only nodded pleasantly to Morag, as she rose to close the door behind his departure.
"He is a good man," Mrs. Lochmaddy said. "He puts me in mind of my Robert."
"He is very good," Delia said. She returned listlessly to her packing. Her head ached ceaselessly. "And as he is a soldier, I expect he would bring your husband to mind. I bade him a soldier's farewell. I do not think I have ever previously spoken those words. They seemed appropriate to be spoken to a man who has risked his life in foreign lands in the past, and may again."
"'Tis a suitable farewell," Morag said. "Though the devil more often stalks the battlefield than does the Lord."
***
In the end Delia did not attend the betrothal party.
She had every intention of doing so. It was, after all, the reason she had delayed her departure. She knew, without discussing the matter with Charles, that he would be hurt if she did not attend. Both her half-brothers had sustained enough hurt in their lives.
The Rake's Reflection Page 19
