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The Devil You Know

Page 9

by Sophia Holloway


  This clarification did not please the earl, whose scowl remained. Lord Inglesham, who had watched his friend’s apparent return to his old self with a mixture of relief and vague disquiet, pondered its cause.

  ‘You must be pleased Lady Ledbury is on the mend, so I do not see why you are such a “bear” this evening.’

  ‘Oh, I am of course delighted that my wife is improving.’ There was a note of sarcasm in Ledbury’s voice. ‘It means I get Whicham back.’ The earl looked at his friend’s troubled expression. ‘If you are going to play Conscience, Henry, think again.’

  ‘What is the matter, George?’

  ‘The matter? Why, nothing, except… I am bored, deuced bored. Oh, not with your company, but… You know what, I have a desire to open up Ledbury House for the Season. Town will be thin of company as yet, but we would be bound to find a few fellows at the club, and about Jackson’s. I am frightfully out of condition.’

  ‘But Lady Ledbury will surely not be sufficiently recovered to travel yet, or…’

  ‘Hang it, I do not mean to wait for that. She could take weeks at her current rate of convalescence. I would go on ahead, get things in motion. That would mean less work for her upon her arrival. What with Chertsey going on into Lincolnshire at the end of last week, and Jasper heading home after a “summons” from old Lady Cowleigh to visit her “at his earliest convenience” which meant, “Come now or have a peel rung over you,” and that last run being decidedly mediocre, I fancy a change. Send your hunters back into Berkshire, and come with me, Henry. You have no ties, so…’

  ‘No, I have no ties.’ Henry Inglesham’s expression was suddenly grim. ‘I wish that I did.’

  ‘Damn. I am sorry. That was a careless thing to say. I did not mean… I am a selfish fellow, who thinks of himself far too much, and it blinkers me. Forgive me, Henry.’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘And you will go up to Town with me before the end of the week?’

  ‘Oh,’ Inglesham sighed, ‘why not?’

  *

  The earl decided to inform his spouse of this decision the following morning. Having breakfasted and galloped off his blue devils, he went to the yellow saloon where she was reclined upon a day bed. Some women, in fact nearly all whom he generally saw reclining upon day beds, looked seductive. His wife looked washed out and about as seductive as a mustard plaster.

  ‘Ah, my dear, you have a little more colour today.’ It was a lie, but he thought it an encouraging one, and thus justified. It also made what he was about to say seem better. ‘You know, I have been thinking. We could open up Ledbury House this year. I rattled too much in it alone and hired it out for the Season these last few years, but the Erewashes have asked to be allowed to cancel the lease, after old Lady Erewash cast them all into blacks, and so we could open it ourselves. The thing is, it will take a bit of work to get things ready, and you are not yet fit, so I thought I would go and prepare the way, then come and collect you when you feel more the thing. You would be saved the overseeing of the dreary tasks and have the pleasurable ones of picking fabrics and furnishings. What do you think?’

  It was perfectly true, every word of it, and he did intend to start getting the house ready for her, but the underlying reason could not be aired. He had claimed he was honest, and he had believed it himself, but marriage would make a liar of him, he was sure of it. He told himself this was an acceptable lie, because it did not hurt his recuperating lady’s feelings. He also ignored the sad look in her eyes when she said he must of course do as he thought would be best, and thanked him for thinking of her.

  Lord Inglesham, who came to sit with her for a half hour, did not ignore the look. He was also a little more honest, though as a third party it was easier.

  ‘I will keep him to his task, ma’am, so that everything is set in order in good time. I think kicking his heels here is trying for him. There is nothing he can do to assist your recovery and he is the impatient sort.’

  ‘I do want to get better.’ Kitty sighed. ‘I simply seem to have lost all energy.’

  ‘I am sure he knows that, but he is energetic himself and impulsive with it. Send him off with a smile, ma’am, and before you know it he will be escorting you, full of a healthy bloom, to view your London residence.’

  He sounded cheering, but was not entirely certain that Lady Ledbury believed him.

  *

  In fact her physical weakness made Kitty feel depressed of spirit, and it was easy to view her lord’s departure as the result of her own failing as a wife. He sought London, and something more lively, perhaps ‘someone’ more lively also. It was not his fault, so it must be hers; her fault for falling ill, her fault for remaining so weak; her fault for being a ‘bad’ wife.

  She put on a brave face when he kissed her cheek and left her, not quite concealing his relief, but cried herself to sleep in a quagmire of self-pity that evening. In such low spirits she did not realise how much the Melling Hall servants rallied round to support her. Mrs Gowthorpe, already predisposed towards her for her taking on the renovations the house had long required, was now almost a rival to Wootton, who returned to her post and had to reassert her position as her mistress’s personal servant. Cook, rendered near speechless for three days with the arrival of the new cooking range, now wanted nothing more than to tempt her ladyship’s appetite. She was racking her brains to come up with ever more delicious morsels for a recuperating invalid and wept if dishes returned barely touched, and Norton, in a fatherly way, both chivvied his mistress to be positive, and ensured that she did not do too much too soon. Though she could not see it, whilst her husband might not adore her, Melling Hall, as an entity, had swiftly taken her to its heart and worshipped the ground upon which she trod.

  However, the combined effect of all this care was that in the week following his lordship’s departure for London, Kitty improved to a marked degree, and by the middle of the second felt well enough to take a gentle hack about the countryside, with Pulley in attendance.

  ‘You’ll feel the better for getting out and about in the fresh air, my lady. Being a-cooped up indoors is no good for horse nor rider. Fresh air is the best cure, always said so. It’ll drive away those blue devils of yourn, and stop you fancying yourself frailer than you are.’

  ‘Blue-devilled? Do I look blue-devilled?’

  ‘Course you do. As if I wouldn’t know it, seeing as how I have watched you from but a littl’un. You can’t fool me, my lady. And what I says is this. What cause have you to feel low when you have wished a healthy good riddance to a life that offered nothing, have a place like this, aye, and in prime hunting country too, and the advantages of a married lady? What’s more, you and his lordship will be getting on like a house on fire, seeing as how he is as keen on his stable as you are.’

  At this, the smile which had wavered on her lips twisted a little, and she made no reply.

  *

  Meanwhile, Lord Ledbury was holding to his word about getting the house in Manchester Square into a fit state for entertaining. He had barely set foot in it since inheriting his title, since it provided a good rent and was far too large for a bachelor existence. He found it draped in Holland covers and with a skeleton staff, but those who had been there some years delighted in the thought of ‘the family’ being back in residence, and turned to with verve. He was dimly aware that it wore an air of faded grandeur about it, and would be the better for fresh distemper upon several ceilings and the replacement of worn carpets and faded curtains. The latter items could await his lady. Of course, all he had to do was give orders, which did not take up much of his time and thereby left him free for entertainment, whilst, as he told Lord Inglesham, feeling virtuous. He spent a considerable amount of time at Tattersall’s, though his friend noted that he neither laid many bets, nor succumbed to buying any horseflesh, with the exception of a very tidy little mare that he thought would be ideal for Kitty in Town.

  ‘It will be a nice surprise for her,’ he asserted, as Lord
Inglesham smiled at his enthusiasm.

  ‘And are you going to set tongues wagging by trotting about the park with your own wife every morning?’

  ‘Well, perhaps not every morning, but… Now, stop looking at me like that, or I will invite Claverton to join us for dinner this evening, and he will bore you with his latest acquisition of Flemish painting.’

  ‘That is blackmail.’

  ‘Agreed. But be fair, will not the mare be a nice present?’

  ‘You might call it a belated wedding gift.’

  ‘Wedding… Oh Lord! I never thought of that. You know what, Henry, we are going to have to make a detour on the way to the club. Would sapphires or emeralds suit her best do you think? I am inclined towards sapphires.’

  ‘You have bought more jewellery for ladies than I have, so how should I be a judge, George?’

  ‘Yes, but what one buys for a mistress is not what one would buy for one’s wife.’

  ‘Which begs the question, who gets the better jewel?’

  ‘Oh, no contest, dear boy.’ Ledbury gave him a broad grin.

  ‘Which is not an answer.’

  When he saw the items from which Ledbury was going to make his final selection, he commented that if the better jewel went to the mistress his friend would have been rolled up years ago.

  ‘Thing is, I have not seen my wife dressed up to the nines, beyond just dressing for dinner at home, so I am not sure of her taste.’

  ‘You may also have to consider that confined to Northamptonshire she has not much in the way of fashionable gowns suitable for a young married lady.’

  ‘How true. Mind you, if she spends all her time about the furniture warehouses and the dressmakers she will not be “clingy”. Now, the pearl necklace with the sapphire pendant or the sapphire bracelet?’

  *

  Lord Ledbury’s purchases did not mean that his wife was at the centre of his thoughts, but Lord Inglesham privately wondered whether she was in them more than he had expected. He did not speak of her with blatant affection, but he did say the words ‘my wife’ rather often, and not in a gloomy way. It gave his lordship hope, which would otherwise have sunk without trace as their evenings were spent in much the same way as in the past, barring the fact that Ledbury was not entangled with a mistress. As far as he knew, the Yarningale woman had been in London some months because of her lord’s political activities, but his friend had never mentioned her since their return, nor been inexplicably absent, which would have been the case had she still been his latest ‘entertainment’. Much would depend, thought Lord Inglesham, on what happened when Lady Ledbury arrived in Town, and the Season got into full swing. If George Ledbury started ‘hunting’ it would not bode well for the new countess. It would be a pity, because he still thought that this impulsive match might rather be the making of his best friend.

  *

  Her ladyship was about to arrive in Town rather sooner than her lord expected, and possibly wanted. She had pondered Pulley’s wisdom, and decided that she had let herself wallow. Well, she was going to stop wallowing, and show her husband that she was perfectly well and… Just for a minute she daydreamed, saw herself in a new gown, flirting with her own husband, the object of envious eyes. She sighed. That was too much to hope for, but there was Ledbury House to restore, and she was going to take her place with her head held high. It was not stretching the imagination too far to think that he might come to like her enough that ‘duty’ need not be a burden, and they could find at least a form of friendship. She deluded herself that that would be enough.

  She ordered Wootton to prepare her bags, and informed Norton and Mrs Gowthorpe that she was following her lord to the capital, and hoped that the new curtains would be in place and the dining chairs newly covered by the time they returned in the summer.

  ‘Melling Hall can take its place among country seats without anyone needing to apologise for it. I am terribly grateful for all the hard work that has been put in, and look forward very much to entertaining his lordship’s guests, as well as simply living in it. It feels like home, “my home”, even after so short a time.’ She smiled, and Norton admitted to Mrs Gowthorpe afterwards that it ‘fair brought a lump to my throat’.

  *

  Lady Yarningale looked in the mirror and surveyed her reflection critically. Yes, it would do. The new bonnet, about which she had entertained doubts, framed her face as well as the vendeuse had declared. She would show George Ledbury just what he was missing. He had not replied to her impassioned letter, but then she knew him well enough to know that he was unlikely to do so. It would have planted the idea in his mind, however, and now he was back in London, and without his bride. According to report, the new Lady Ledbury was recuperating from indisposition. Her ladyship wondered if she was recuperating from Lord Ledbury. He might have swept her off her feet, just because he knew he could, but Louisa Yarningale also knew he had never dabbled among the debutantes. Some wide-eyed innocent who knew nothing, pretty or not, would not keep his interest, and if he was alone in London the proof was before her. Part of her admitted that the relationship was past its best, but then was not any when the thrill of the chase, or in her case, being chased, reached the point of capture? At the same time, she disliked the idea that Ledbury could simply rise from her bed, walk away, and never think of her again. It hurt her self-belief, and Lady Yarningale’s self-belief was a mighty edifice, unlike her intelligence, which was of a very middling sort.

  She set out for Ledbury House with a very simple strategy, and her visiting card. Should nobody be at home, she would leave it in the normal manner, and Lord Ledbury would see it upon his return, and wonder. Should he be in the house she felt certain that she would manage a private interview with him. She made no secret of her destination, saying that she wished to visit the new Lady Ledbury, and simply omitting that she knew full well that she was unlikely to be in residence. Her lord did not attend to tittle tattle, and even less to the chatter of his wife.

  Only as she prepared to walk up to the door did she have the least qualm, but she dismissed it, and rang the bell. Her imperious manner was enough to gain her admittance into the vestibule.

  ‘Is Lady Ledbury at home?’

  ‘I regret, ma’am, that her ladyship is not currently in residence.’

  ‘Then perhaps Lord Ledbury?’ She presented her card. ‘I have known the family some years.’

  What she meant was that she had known one member intimately for some months, but she decided it amounted to the same thing.

  ‘I shall ascertain if his lordship is at home,’ the card was perused, ‘my lady. If you would care to wait.’

  She was shown to a small panelled chamber, and sat, primly, on the edge of a chair which she dismissed as outdated in the extreme. Just when she was expecting to hear that he was not at home, the earl entered the room. His greeting left much to be desired.

  ‘Indiscreet, Louisa, and ill-timed. I am busy with my accounts.’

  ‘Really, my lord?’ She looked arch. ‘Would you prefer to see me in the evening, very late?’

  He wondered how he had ever overcome his dislike of her coquettishness. Had he ignored it, or had he been so foolish as to pander to it?

  ‘That would be equally inopportune, and even more indiscreet. I am a married man.’

  At this she laughed, her tinkling laugh, though it was so ingrained it had become natural to her.

  ‘Goodness, George, do not stand there looking moral, you of all men. You never worried about me being married, and nor did I.’ She rose, and came close enough to tap his chest with one finger. ‘Playing our games is so much more entertaining, and I notice your new wife is not with you. Bored already, my lord? You are, I can tell.’

  ‘So you think we simply carry on as before?’

  ‘Why not? I have not changed, and I hardly think that you will have done so. I accept a loss of… exclusivity. After all, a man marries for money, if he lacks it, and for the continuation of his line. So you will have
“duties”.’ She shrugged her well-shaped shoulders, and a wave of her expensive perfume swirled about him. ‘I can accept that.’

  ‘But you see, you do not have to.’ His voice was little more than a purr, and his eyes glittered. He was angry, not only with her, but with himself. He had no interest in her, found her now rather distasteful, truth to tell, and his heart had never stirred for her, but his body had, and it did still. Her perfume, not the one she used on letters, her proximity, reminded him all too plainly of what he had been missing these long weeks, and she was good. He could feel his body waken, and want, and felt… ashamed.

  ‘We have played our last “game”, Louisa. It was fun, yes, but neither you nor I thought of it as more.’

  ‘You did not love me, even a little bit?’ She pouted and looked under her long lashes at him.

  ‘Don’t act more foolish than you are, madam. We never confused the act with the emotion. Have done, and flaunt your availability at some other man. You will not be lonely.’

  She stiffened. He really did mean that there was no future for them. She was not so much disappointed as angry.

  ‘No, but will you, if you keep yourself to your well-dowered dowd? I suppose I should be pleased. You have not thrown me over for another, more beautiful woman, but for a bank draft. So be it. I would wish you well of it, my lord, but I really would not mean it.’

  She smiled, and offered her hand to be kissed. He simply ignored it.

  ‘Good day to you, Lady Yarningale.’

  She wavered, withdrew the hand, and the smile twisted. She left the room without another word. She would have felt better if she had seen how his lordship frowned, clenched his fists, and swore to himself.

  9

  Kitty’s confidence waned as the carriage slowed its pace to negotiate the busy thoroughfares of the capital. She had set off full of hope and anticipation, but it had ebbed away very quickly. London had not been a happy place for her. She had told herself repeatedly that this would be different, as mistress of a house, as one of the ‘young matrons’ set who had secured husbands and had nothing to prove. Yet the fear sat, waiting, inside her. She had the Earl of Ledbury’s name, but would anyone believe she had ‘secured’ even his affection? She had received but two short missives from him since his departure from Melling Hall, and both were couched in polite but disinterested terms. Her decision to arrive without warning as a surprise had been the thought of a moment, a moment when she had let herself dream of his face lighting up at the sight of her, and delighted that she had taken the initiative. She ought to have been more sensible. He was more likely to greet her with a scowl, not least because it was entirely possible that, if any of his chères amies were in Town, he would have found ‘entertainment’.

 

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