She took a deep breath, and nodded, then pulled away, leaving the key in his palm. He stared at it for some moments, and then went and replaced it in the lock. The ‘key’ to unlocking the women with whom he had enjoyed liaisons had generally been a mixture of flattery and male magnetism. If you made a woman feel good about herself, and showed that you were a man who got what he wanted, the rest was easy. They dropped into your palm like ripe plums. Making his wife feel good about herself would be more difficult, but might be mildly entertaining.
His self-confidence did not permit him to consider that it might also be exceedingly frustrating.
*
The departure of Duddon and Curdworth both removed tension and made the other gentlemen rather more aware of their hostess. None had intentionally ignored her, but she had been so peripheral that for the majority of the time they had done so. Tonight they were assiduous in being inclusive, and Kitty felt a little like a child whom others have been admonished to ‘include in your games’. On a number of occasions the conversation inadvertently drifted towards subjects suited to a male party, and would suddenly swerve away at a tangent, deceiving nobody, least of all her. Once or twice she had to control the urge to smile, but contrived to remain looking serenely ignorant. She even dared look straight along the table, and there caught her lord’s eye, establishing a moment of shared understanding.
Lord Inglesham, who was both an astute observer, and knew his friend better than anyone, noted a change. It was subtle, but there, and he hoped it would continue. Ledbury was not trying to pretend his lady did not exist, but was watching her. Inglesham had seen him watch women before, in the manner of a wolf selecting prey, except that it was for sport, not sustenance. What had instigated the change he could not imagine, since he had no faith that his friend would have actually attended to his words. Ledbury was a loyal friend, and both open and honest, but he could be very blinkered, and was remarkably heedless of others. Inglesham knew, and none better, there was little he would not do for a friend, but beyond that he did not care what anyone else felt or the world thought of him. When Inglesham had been at his lowest ebb, George Ledbury had pulled him back from the brink, shepherded him away from the precipice of putting a pistol to his own head, or drowning, almost literally, in alcohol. Drinking had not been a prop as much as a path to oblivion, where his personal misery lost the acute and agonising sharpness, and he had taken it with intent. Ledbury had caught him as it began to be habitual, and for a few months, had been his shadow, always there, always finding another way to keep him from his grief. It was a debt Ledbury brushed away, even denied. His attitude was that he had done nothing except be his normal selfish self, ‘For I could not bear to lose your entertaining company.’
If there was anything Henry Inglesham could do now to help his friend find even an indifferent tolerance to his married state, he would do it, though he hoped for more. Deep down, he thought it might be the making of him. However unlikely that Ledbury would develop tender feelings for the lady he had wed upon a whim, if he did so then he might find contentment. He would say, of course, that he was already content, but Inglesham believed that was only a surface veneer. There was something missing in his life, and Inglesham was sentimental enough to think it was love and affection. He had wondered if that was the reason for his affairs, of which he disapproved, but he had never seen his friend besotted with his latest mistress, let alone in love. The transient relationships seemed to be a way of preventing boredom, and providing an outlet for his needs. Not once had he been thrown over for another lover; it was he who ended the affair when it ceased to amuse him sufficiently, or, more frequently, when the lady in question tried to be possessive. Just once, Inglesham had asked if he had a heart, and had received a laughing reply that he did not, in the sense of an emotion, ‘For I possess a heart only as an organ of the body.’ Inglesham did not believe that, but held his tongue.
*
Kitty enjoyed her dinner. Her appetite was improved, and when she rose to leave the gentlemen she entertained the thought of awaiting them in the drawing room. Her lord, however, had a different idea.
‘Do not feel the need to wait up for us, my lady. You look quite done in, and would be the better for your rest.’
He sounded concerned, not patronising, and gave her a kindly look. Her heart missed a beat. She bade the company goodnight and did as he suggested, though rest did not come swiftly. Part of her was elated, though sanity told her she was a fool.
‘But I am not a fool,’ she declared out loud, as she pulled the bedcovers higher to keep warm. ‘A fool would expect love. I would be more than happy with this, with a tolerant friendship, a little kindness.’
Sanity scoffed at this, and told her the harsh truth. ‘You want the impossible. You want him to love you, and, even less likely, you alone. Be weak, let yourself succumb, but do not expect sympathy when you are broken by his infidelities. He may seduce you, but then he will go to Town and carry on as if nothing has changed, and there will always be another woman in his bed.’
It was a wistful lady who finally found sleep.
*
The improved state of affairs between husband and wife continued for the duration of the visit. Kitty made an effort not to be intrusive, but did not hide away, and her lord went out of his way to spend a few minutes in conversation only with her at some point every day, as well as including her in topics when everyone was gathered together. Kitty’s voice of cynicism dismissed this as cynical manipulation; it was not far wrong.
Having come to the conclusion, a trifle belatedly, that he really was married, and that some alterations to his existence were bound to occur, Lord Ledbury approached the ‘problem’ of his wife with what he did not think of as cynicism, but merely good sense. As with a nervous yearling, the best way would be to gain her trust, take things gently, and make no sudden movements. In practical terms this meant not trying to woo her as he would his mistresses, who knew the ‘game’. Too much passion and she would shy away. He thought this process might be occasionally frustrating, but, being entirely novel to him, he found himself enjoying it. There was no need for flirting and flattery, rather an extension of simple friendship, and he had never been ‘friends’ with a woman before. Having found they shared a love of things equine gave him a useful starting point, but he began also to take an interest in what was going on in the house. What he had initially considered interference, he realised was something to which he ought to have paid some attention. There was a twinge of guilt, but it passed rapidly. George Ledbury was not the type of man subject to such pangs.
The renovations did occasion one momentary hiccough. Emboldened by his apparent interest, Kitty brought forth her pattern book and asked his opinion on curtains for the dining room. He looked at her as if she had asked him to decapitate the butler.
‘My opinion? Curtains? Good God woman, what do I know of fripperies and fabrics?’ he sounded appalled. ‘I might as well ask you to choose my next shooting piece. I dislike dreary lilac sort of shades, and no sphinxes, but beyond that, it is your domain.’
‘No sphinxes. I see.’
‘I saw the Molesley’s new decor some years back. Damned sphinxes everywhere, on mirrors, furniture feet, pediments. London’s on the Thames, not the Nile.’ He sounded genuinely aggrieved. ‘I tell you true, Kitty, the day you introduce a sphinx I walk out that door and will not return.’ He calmed his outrage.
‘I would not wish you to do that, my lord.’
‘Wouldn’t you?’ The question was put lightly, but there was an undercurrent, and she blushed.
‘No, sir, I would not.’
A half-smile played about his mouth, and he lifted one of her hands, turned it over, and placed a kiss in the palm.
‘Good,’ he purred, and left it at that. Far better leave her wanting a little more, than frightening her so that she wanted less.
*
The Thursday saw the arrival of her ladyship’s groom and horses, which boosted her
happiness, although her head had been thumping since breakfast. Pulley was an ally who might chastise her in private, in the manner of an old and trusted retainer, but who would defend her to the death in public. As soon as the message came up from the stables that he had arrived, Kitty garbed herself to face the elements, it being a very windy afternoon, and hastened to see how he and her horses had faired upon the journey. Pulley looked muddied and cold, but was warming up by the simple act of rubbing down his charges and seeing them safely bestowed. He did not hear her enter.
‘Pulley, oh how glad I am to see you.’
He turned to see his mistress, delight upon her face. He touched his cap.
‘Afternoon, mi… my lady. No mishaps upon the road, you’ll be glad to hear, though I think the big feller has a nail coming loose on his off hind.’
‘The big feller’ in question turned his head and blew heavily through his nose. Kitty grinned, and stepped close to stroke its velvety softness.
‘Is that so, Cassius? No, I have no apples, you naughty boy. Keep out of my pockets.’
Cassius evidently did not believe this and continued to investigate for himself. Lord Ledbury, who had been with Sir Jasper Cowleigh, looking over one of Sir Jasper’s mounts that had shown a hint of lameness during exercise, stood in the doorway and listened to his wife’s low, caressing tone. If he heard that in the bedroom, though with more appropriate words, he would know he had won her heart, for certain.
‘So this is your hunter, my lady.’
She turned, too quickly for Cassius’s liking. He threw up his head and stared accusingly at Lord Ledbury.
‘Yes, my lord, or rather one of them. This is Cassius, a dear old friend.’
‘A trifle large for you, I would have said. What is he, sixteen three?’
‘Very nearly. But he has a wonderful temperament and a great heart. I have had him nine years come the autumn.’
Ledbury wondered at her father letting a chit of perhaps seventeen ride an animal so strong.
‘Might I try him some time? He would carry my weight I am sure.’
‘He has been used only to a side-saddle for a long time, but of course, my lord. Oh, and I wish to introduce Pulley, my groom.’
Pulley gave a nod and touched his cap.
‘Pulley. I hope you’ll settle well here.’
‘Thank you, my lord.’
The earl had the distinct impression that he was being assessed, even as he had assessed the horse.
‘And in the next stall is Artemis, my mare, the one I said might be suitable to be introduced to Volcanic, and beyond that, my old hack.’ She led the way to show off her other horses.
‘And what is the hack’s name.’
‘I had hoped you might not ask, my lord.’
‘Why?’
‘Because her name is Sphinx.’ A dimple peeped, and Kitty’s eyes danced.
‘Oh, really?’ He tried to sound unimpressed, but when he looked at her, her merriment was too infectious. The smile dawned, and spread.
‘I could not have known, could I, sir? It was just that when I got her I thought her expression enigmatic like the…’ She giggled.
‘The Sphinx. Hmm.’
‘You will not count her in the stables as “introducing” one, my lord?’
‘I am tempted… but no.’ In truth he was tempted in an entirely different way. Had the groom not been present he would have dearly liked to kiss her. It surprised him, but he admitted its truth. He distracted his thoughts. ‘Will the gelding be fit for Saturday?’
‘If a nail is hammered home, yes, my lord.’ Pulley answered, thinking the question addressed to him.
‘And you, my dear?’ Kitty looked confused.
‘I… I hope so, my lord.’
‘Good. Well, since you have shown me your stable, I ought to show you what is added to it. I had thought Calico might suit you, though she has not been a lady’s mount for several years. Come, and I will show you.’ He extended his hand, and she let him take her hand and tuck it into the crook of his arm. Pulley, after a moment’s hesitation, followed.
Calico proved to be a grey mare with an intelligent head, and certainly a couple of inches shorter than Cassius. Kitty looked at her husband in enquiry.
‘I know, she is not really up to my weight, but I fell in love with her, and… love is not logical.’
‘No, sir, it is not.’ That breathless feeling was filling her chest again.
‘I consoled myself with the fact that I could put her to Volcanic, but she miscarried in the summer. We have just tried her again, but nothing is, of course, certain yet.’
‘Everyone deserves a second chance, do they not?’ She was looking at him, a little shyly.
‘Yes, I think they do.’ He smiled, but then frowned. She had shivered, but her cheeks were flushed.
‘Are you quite well?’
‘I… I am sure that I will be, my lord. It is but a bad headache and…’ In truth she did not feel at all the thing. He stepped forward, and placed the back of his hand to her brow.
‘No, you are not. Pulley, get a lad to put the tilbury to, please. I will drive her ladyship up to the house.’
‘It is but a five-minute walk, my lord,’ Kitty expostulated.
‘The tilbury.’
‘Yes, my lord.’ Pulley left the stable.
‘If you felt unwell, why did you come down to the stables, foolish girl?’
‘I wanted to see my horses and…’ She blinked. It felt very hot in the stable, oppressively so. ‘I am not making it up to keep you… oh dear.’ She swayed, and shut her eyes. She felt his arms go round her, and then he picked her up. Her head was spinning as well as feeling cudgelled. She stopped trying to think. Everything became muzzy, and the next thing of which she was aware was being laid upon her bed.
‘Where’s her ladyship’s maid?’ The earl’s voice, tetchy and harsh, cut through the fog in her head.
‘I am sorry, my lord. Miss Wootton is herself laid up. Passed clean out in the servant’s hall, she did, and one of the maids is taken ill also. I fear it is the influenza, my lord. They have had it in the village this week past.’
‘Has the doctor been called, Norton?’
‘I took that decision, my lord, yes.’
‘Then I’ve a groom on a wild goose chase, but there. As soon as he arrives, he is to come straight to attend her ladyship.’
‘Yes, my lord. Should I send up another of the maids to…’
‘No. That will not be necessary.’
‘As you wish, my lord. Perhaps a cold compress for her ladyship’s forehead, my lord?’
‘Yes, yes. Send a maid with that.’
Norton took this as his dismissal and withdrew. Undressing a woman was not, Lord Ledbury admitted to himself, a task with which he was totally unfamiliar. The intricacies of laces and hooks did not confound him in the least. Kitty flailed a little, irritably informing him that she was not a child, in a very petty, childish voice, but he ignored her. He realised he had been looking forward to being in her room again, to… try that second chance. Just for a moment he felt angry at her for falling ill to rob him of his pleasure, but then berated himself. It was just bad luck. Perhaps in a week, ten days at the most… He ignored the small voice of worry that murmured that influenza could be serious. She was young, and perfectly fit, not some old arthritic.
Despite this, it was with the sense of a load lifted from his mind that he heard the doctor’s diagnosis and prognosis.
‘Oh yes, my lord, it is the influenza. Her ladyship seems to be otherwise of sound constitution, and whilst one must always take care with influenza, I would say that there is, at this stage, little risk. I will send up a draught that will ease her aches and pains in the head and limbs, but it is in general a case of keeping her comfortable and ensuring that she takes plenty of fluid, not wine or spirits, mark you. A cordial would be best. I will return in the morning, but of course you may call me out if there is any major change.’
‘How long before she is on the mend, Doctor?’
‘Such things vary, but I would hope for improvement within five days or so, though influenza does take it out of one. She may not be fully recovered for some weeks.’
‘I see. Thank you.’
The earl stood at the end of the bed, thinking. His first problem was that Kitty’s maid was not available, and he did not want to leave her in the ignorant hands of some housemaid. He also had guests, who were expecting a day’s hunting the day after tomorrow. He growled to himself. He wanted to hunt also. He would be no use in the sickroom, so he might as well… Kitty’s hand upon the coverlet trembled, and reached for him.
‘Don’t go,’ she whispered, as a fractious command. He took her hot, dry hand.
She meant now, but it hit him that whilst he might see his friends off with Henry Inglesham at their head, he would not hunt.
‘Damnation.’
There was a knock at the door. Mrs Gowthorpe entered with a rustle of skirts.
‘My lord, in view of Miss Wootton’s indisposition, I thought you might be at a loss for whom to nurse her ladyship. Well, I am most willing.’
‘Thank you, Mrs Gowthorpe. I can trust you to… But you will need some relief also, if you are not to wear yourself to nothing. I will sit with her when possible, and I will ask Whicham…’
‘No need to ask, my lord.’ The door to the dressing room had been opened softly. His valet stood, framed like a sentry. ‘I have taken the liberty of setting up a truckle bed in the dressing room, my lord. Mrs Gowthorpe can take the daytime, and, if her ladyship is not too poorly, I shall attend her during the night, if she wakens and has need.’
‘Thank you. Thank you both. I shall still try to take my turn upon watch also, however. I had best speak to my guests.’ He leaned closer to the bed. ‘Kitty, I must go, just for a short while, but I will be back, I promise.’
The Devil You Know Page 7
