by Stella Riley
She said slowly, ‘It is up to Aristide, of course. But on the rare occasions we meet Ralph in company, the three of us cutting each other is … awkward.’
Aristide looked at her and then sighed. ‘You are right, of course. And if I refuse, that awkwardness will be my fault, will it not? Very well, Sebastian. Tell him I’ll do it.’
A few minutes later when Sebastian returned, chatting amicably with Lord Sherbourne as they crossed to where Aristide and his wife still stood, conversations all around the room faltered and then resumed at seemingly increased volume. Face and voice both carefully neutral, Ralph looked his brother-in-law in the eye and extended his hand, saying, ‘A pleasure to see you, Monsieur. I trust you are well?’
‘Perfectly, I thank you,’ responded Aristide, matching the earl’s manner precisely as he accepted his hand. ‘And you, my lord?’
‘Never better.’ And turning, ‘Genevieve – you are quite in your best looks, I see. Motherhood obviously suits you. Ah … you have a son, I believe.’
‘Yes. His name is Etienne.’ Smiling and perfectly aware that it would be a cold day in hell before Ralph came to Duke Street, she added sweetly, ‘If you wish to make his acquaintance, you know where to find us.’
‘Indeed,’ he agreed, his answering smile not quite reaching his eyes. ‘Perhaps when he is a little older? I am forced to admit that babies are not my forte.’ He made a slight bow which encompassed both his sister and Aristide and then, with a glance across the room, said, ‘Forgive me – but I have yet to greet Mistress Marsden.’
He had gone no more than six steps when his path was blocked by Cassie Audley.
‘That was uncommonly well-done of you, my lord – and not easy,’ she said with a warm smile. And, beckoning a footman bearing a tray, added, ‘Have some wine … and perhaps you might take a glass to Elizabeth. You will be leading her in to dinner, you know.’
By the time he finally reached Elizabeth’s side, the bile was beginning to drain from Ralph’s throat. Handing her the glass, he said, ‘Not the ideal way to begin an evening, perhaps … but unfortunately necessary.’
Not pretending to misunderstand, she said, ‘How long is it since last you spoke?’
‘Over a year. The occasion was not … pleasant.’
‘It will be easier next time. And it has done you no harm at all to have been seen to make the first move.’
His mouth curled faintly. ‘You think I wasn’t aware of that?’
‘No. I’m sure you were. But it doesn’t detract from the fact that you did it.’ She smiled and changed the subject. ‘Acceptances for the concert invitations are flooding in and Arabella’s mother and eldest brother are due to arrive tomorrow or the day after. Belle asked the duke to invite them so we can apologise for deceiving everyone.’
‘Ah. Not, then, because an announcement is imminent?’
This time she did pretend not to follow him. ‘An announcement?’
‘Between your cousin and Chalfont. One can’t help noticing that every time his lordship’s name is mentioned, Mistress Brandon glows like a beacon – and not, I imagine, purely on account of his skill at the keyboard.’ He paused briefly, setting down his glass and relieving her of hers, then offering his arm. ‘You need not answer … and we are being summoned to table. Mistress Audley informs me that I am to have the pleasure of your company at dinner – for which I am suitably grateful.’
Despite the fact the company included a duke, a marquis and two earls, dinner was a cheerful affair during which no one adhered very strictly to the usual etiquette. At one point during the second course, Sebastian silenced everyone else by addressing Arabella, three places down on the other side of the table.
‘Mistress Brandon, why has it taken the concert invitation for me to find out that the Earl of Chalfont is actually Julian Langham?’
‘Well, Julian is the Earl of Chalfont,’ said Arabella baffled. ‘But he prefers to use his name rather than the title. Why do you ask?’
‘Because I’d never heard of Chalfont until Rock mentioned him … but I know Julian Langham.’
‘You do?’
‘Yes. We were at Cambridge together – and he played like a demon even then. The music professor was in awe of him. But he disappeared after the second year.’ Sebastian grinned invitingly. ‘So where’s he been all this time?’
‘In Vienna.’
‘Doing what?’
‘Studying.’ Abandoning any attempt to look indifferent, Arabella beamed at him. ‘Composing … learning to play like ten demons … meeting Mozart.’
If she hadn’t had everyone’s full attention before, she had it now. Several people spoke at once, some impressed, others incredulous.
From his place across the table, Ralph watched her meditatively. Her cheeks were pink, the big grey eyes brilliant and a sweet, tender smile hovered about her lips … all of it purely from speaking of Chalfont. Ralph found himself wondering how it must feel to be the object of a love like that. Extraordinary, he supposed. Extraordinary … and something he found himself envying.
Transferring his gaze Elizabeth, he murmured, ‘What I said earlier about your cousin? I rest my case.’
Cassie, meanwhile, was saying, ‘Does his lordship really know Herr Mozart?’
‘He does,’ confirmed Rockliffe, thinking of the hand-written pages locked safely in his own desk and which he was still amazed Chalfont had allowed out of his possession.
‘I’m not sure how well they’re acquainted,’ remarked Arabella truthfully. And on a gurgle of amusement, ‘All I do know is that he and Mozart got drunk together.’
Into the inevitable laughter, Rockliffe said gently, ‘I don’t believe we needed to know that – about either gentleman.’
‘Speak for yourself,’ objected Sebastian. ‘Aside from his music, all any of us know about Mozart is that he’s a genius. It’s comforting to know he’s human, too. However … when is Chalfont due to arrive?’
‘Next week,’ sighed Rockliffe. ‘I must admit, I shall be delighted to see him. Perhaps he will be able to stop the concerto ensemble squabbling among itself. I am quite tired of being summoned to arbitrate on matters entirely beyond my comprehension.’
* * *
On the following afternoon, Max and Louisa arrived. Inevitably, since Max had never previously met Rockliffe and neither he nor his mother knew the duchess, their welcome took rather longer than it might otherwise have done and it was nearly an hour before Arabella was finally alone with them. Hugging both of them again and shedding a few tears, she said, ‘I’m sorry. Truly, I am. But I didn’t care about London and Lizzie did … so changing places gave both of us what we wanted. And no real harm seems to have come of it. There’s been a bit of gossip since the truth came out but most people have accepted it for what we said it was – just a foolish joke.’
‘At the risk of stating the obvious,’ said Louisa, ‘a great deal of harm might have come of it. It’s only thanks to Rockliffe that it hasn’t. So promise me that you won’t even think of doing something so idiotic again. Otherwise I’ll be forced to lock you in the attic.’
‘The cellar,’ corrected Max. ‘She’d enjoy the attic too much.’ And, holding his sister’s gaze, ‘On our way here, we took a slight detour and called on Lord Chalfont.’
‘You did what?’ asked Arabella, aghast. ‘Why?’
‘Why do you think? We wanted to see for ourselves the kind of man you’ve been living with these last weeks.’
Her eyes narrowed and she stood up. ‘Did you bully him?’
‘No. For God’s sake, Belle! I could forgive young Tom – but you should know better.’
‘Well … perhaps. But if Tom thought you were, he must have had a reason.’
‘He didn’t. He just jumped to conclusions. What he actually walked in on was Chalfont biting my head off because I hadn’t properly appreciated his virtuoso status.’
She stared at him. ‘Julian did that? No. He can’t have.’
‘He did
,’ confirmed Louisa, ‘though I wouldn’t say he exactly bit your head off, Max.’
‘He snarled,’ muttered Max. Then, ‘Why is nobody defending me?’
‘Because you don’t need it,’ retorted his mother. ‘However, the two of you were friendly enough when you came back to the house. So why don’t you tell Belle what you and his lordship agreed?’
‘Yes,’ said Arabella suspiciously. ‘Why don’t you?’
Max sighed. ‘You asked me to help him, didn’t you? Well, I’m helping. I’ve written to Adam telling him to send Garrett and a handful of others to Chalfont to see what can be done and to start doing it. That is what you wanted, isn’t it?’
Her eyes suddenly luminous, she opened her mouth, closed it again and then, throwing herself into her brother’s arms, said, ‘Yes. Oh yes. He needs help so badly, Max – so thank you. Thank you.’
Behind her daughter’s back and knowing that, if Arabella would talk to anyone about her feelings for Lord Chalfont, it would be Max, Louisa gave her son a meaningful smile and, receiving a nod of acknowledgement in return, slipped from the room. When the door closed behind her, Max said, ‘I’m glad you’re pleased, minx … but do you think you could stop strangling me?’
‘Sorry.’ With a watery giggle, she relaxed her hold on him. ‘D-Did you like him?’
‘I think I can probably get used to him,’ he replied with a touch of mordant humour. ‘Mama, on the other hand, took to him right away.’
‘Oh?’ Arabella stepped back and realised they were alone. ‘Where did she go?’
‘She made a tactical retreat.’ He pulled her down beside him on a sofa and put his arm around her. ‘I’m not going to demand every detail of the weeks you spent with Chalfont – but one thing is clear enough. You love him, don’t you?’
‘Yes.’ It was a mere whisper against his cravat. ‘So much.’
‘That’s what I thought. Since he said nothing of it, I am assuming there is no understanding between you. But I imagine you are hoping there will be one?’
This time the tears were not happy ones. Lifting an impatient hand to brush them aside, she said, ‘Yes. But … it’s complicated. And I – I can’t explain.’
‘You don’t need to explain. I guessed a long time ago that you and David lay together,’ replied Max, his tone decidedly grim. ‘I’m right, aren’t I?’
‘Y-Yes.’ There was a long silence and then, ‘Does Mama know?’
‘I don’t believe so. If she did … if she even suspected … she would have raised the matter with you.’ He paused and then said, ‘You changed at around the time David left. Mama put it down to you growing up. I didn’t. I realised something must have caused it – and from there it wasn’t hard to work out what that something was.’
‘I’m sorry.’ She burrowed into him. ‘I’m so sorry. I wish I hadn’t done it, Max. I’ve wished it every day since. I don’t even know why I did. Aren’t … aren’t you angry with me?’
‘I can’t pretend to be pleased, love. But I don’t doubt that it was David’s idea, not yours. Spent a lot of time talking you into it, did he?’
‘Yes. But I needn’t have given way. I knew better than --’
‘As he should have done. There was no predicting how long he’d be away – he might have died over there, for God’s sake! Consequently, seducing you wasn’t just bloody stupid; it was downright dishonourable. You were foolish, Belle – but at eighteen, so are we all. And what’s done, is done. It’s not the end of the world nor even a hanging offence, so it can’t be allowed to ruin the rest of your life.’ He dropped a kiss on her brow and added, ‘We won’t speak of this again … but I’ll give you just one piece of advice. If Chalfont asks you to marry him, you’ll say yes … and you’ll tell him about David. And then you’ll find out if he loves you enough not to mind.
~ * * ~ * * ~
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
In the last week before departing for London, Julian set himself a gruelling routine. He played for three hours in the early morning and a further four in the evening. Between these, he did the tasks demanded of him by the estate and spent the time he had left with the children. Violet and Rose, ably assisted by Tom, prepared for the journey without subjecting his lordship to questions and, as far as was possible, saw that he was spared the inevitable household chaos. There was a tacit agreement that even Ellie understood. The music must come first. And soon all of them knew the concert programme by heart.
Julian gave up part of the last afternoon to play the solo part of his recital for the Misses Caldercott, Paul and Janet Featherstone and, it being a pleasant day, half the village. The penultimate Royer piece left his audience in a state of stunned silence for almost a full minute before applause, whistles and cheers broke out. The ladies hugged him, Paul thumped him on the back … and Julian went home completely unaware that, behind him, his friends were making plans.
He arrived at the house to find the hall occupied by four strangers. His mind still elsewhere, it took him several moments to understand what one of them was saying to him.
‘I’m Ben Garrett, my lord – and these are three of my best men. Mr Adam sent us from Brandon Lacey to see what improvements need making and maybe get a start on them.’
Gradually the sense of it filtered through. Julian said helplessly, ‘But I’m leaving for London tomorrow.’
‘We know that, my lord – it’s why we was anxious to get here beforehand. Now, there’s nothing you need to worry about. We’ll introduce ourselves round and about till we know what’s what … so all we need from you is your authority to get to work.’
‘Right. Yes. Whatever you think best. Thank you.’
From beside him, Rose said, ‘They’re putting up at the Dog and Duck, milord. But there’s a couple of the spare bedchambers that haven’t got damp in them so Vi and me can put ’em to rights. If it’s all right with you and the gentlemen don’t mind sharing, they can stay here instead after you and the children have gone.’
‘Yes. Good.’ And to the foreman, ‘Will that suit you, Mr …?’
‘Garrett, my lord. And yes, that’ll suit a treat. Much obliged to you.’
The men set off back to the village, leaving Julian vaguely wondering what he’d just agreed to but disinclined to delve too deeply. He was just heading back to the library, when Ellie skidded to his side, hotly pursued by Tom and a wildly yapping Figgy.
Ellie said, ‘Tom says Figgy can’t come to London. But he can, can’t he?’
‘What?’ asked Julian. Then, ‘No. He can’t. Absolutely not.’
‘I’ve explained why four times,’ growled Tom. ‘She won’t listen.’
The little girl fixed big, beseeching eyes on Julian. ‘Please! He’ll be good.’
He drew a long breath and struggled to find his usual tone.
‘I’m sorry, Ellie – but no. We can’t take Figgy to the duke’s house – never mind having him in the carriage with us for hours on end. It won’t do. He’ll stay here with Rose and --’
‘But he’ll miss me!’ She clutched Julian’s hand. ‘Please let him come.’
‘I can’t. It’s impossible.’ And when she opened her mouth to argue, he added firmly, ‘Enough, Ellie. The answer is no.’
And for the first time ever, he walked away.
‘Told you,’ muttered Tom. ‘Now stop pestering him. This isn’t the time.’
* * *
The duke’s coach – an elegant, well-sprung vehicle – pulled up outside the front door promptly at nine on the following morning. Inside the hall were neat piles of luggage which Tom, Rob and Rockliffe’s groom carried outside for loading. Ellie, meanwhile, helped Mistress Phelps stow wicker baskets of food under the seats. When everything was ready, both Rose and Violet seized the opportunity to hug his lordship, kiss his cheek and wish him luck. Then Julian and the children climbed aboard … and they were off.
They hadn’t reached the end of the drive before it became clear that one of the wicker baskets contained som
ething other than food. Tom sent Julian a long-suffering look; Rob dissolved into giggles; and Julian rapped on the roof, signalling the coachman to pull up. Then, in an unusually crisp tone, he said, ‘Get Figgy out, Ellie. Now.’
Reluctantly and without looking at him, she did as he’d asked. Rob stopped laughing and Tom pressed his lips together so he wouldn’t start.
‘I forbade you to bring him. Did I not make that clear?’
She nodded. ‘Yes. But I thought --’
‘You thought you would disobey me and do it anyway.’ He regarded her sternly, knowing a sign of weakness would be fatal right now. ‘Tom … take Figgy back to the house. Ellie … you can either stay at home with Figgy or you can come with me. Which is it to be?’
Ellie’s chin quivered. She buried her face in the dog’s neck and finally mumbled, ‘I’m sorry. I’ll come with you.’
‘Good choice,’ said Tom briskly, taking Figgy from her and hopping down from the carriage. Then, flashing a grin at Julian, ‘It could have been worse, sir. We might’ve been half-way to Newark. As it is, the journey’ll fly by now.’
* * *
It didn’t. Rob, it turned out, was carriage-sick – forcing them to halt five times in three hours. After the second occasion and praying that it would help, Julian transferred the boy to the front-facing seat. This, because Ellie refused to sit anywhere but by Julian, resulted in him giving up his own seat to Tom and occupying the rear-facing seat instead. After three further stops, Rob was green-tinged and miserable and, by Julian’s reckoning, couldn’t have anything left inside him to bring up. Part-way through the afternoon, Ellie grew tired and climbed on Julian’s lap to sleep; then Tom, the only one of them enjoying the journey, pulled a chicken-leg from the picnic basket – the scent of which set Rob off again; and by the time they stopped for the night, Julian was wondering how he was going to endure two more days of this.
Thanks to some sensible advice from a sympathetic chambermaid, Rob (and therefore Julian) survived the next day’s journey rather better. Ellie slept through most of it, leaving his lordship with cramp in one arm. And Tom passed the miles with an almost continuous commentary on whatever caught his attention through the window.
