‘No, but…’
‘Being kissed in “inappropriate places” is one of the penalties of being wed to a rake, my sweet. Devil-may-care, that is me, with no notion of propriety,’
‘You do have a notion, but you just ignore it.’ She glanced sideways at him.
‘True enough, but never having been married before, I find myself thinking that impropriety between us ought to be impossible.’
‘But Society, sir, would be as offended by the sight of a man being openly affectionate to his wife as to a mistress.’
‘Possibly more so. Society is sometimes less moral than it tries to appear.’
‘Oh, I do not think Society moral. I saw a girl in my first Season married off to a man older than her own father, and Society lauded the match merely because he was rich and titled.’
‘Prittlewell.’ Lord Ledbury’s lip curled. ‘Not edifying I thought, but at least an extreme case.’
‘You recall it too.’
‘It was, shall we say, a topic of much interest in the clubs.’
‘No doubt they thought him a “lucky dog”.’ She shuddered.
‘Actually, there was much sympathy for his er, victim. She was a sacrifice upon the altar of avarice, it was generally agreed, but why she agreed to the match… She must have been weak-willed.’
‘Like me?’
‘No, because although you were faced with an impossible choice, you evaluated both courses and picked the better option. I do hope I am still the better option, by the way.’
‘Yes, my lord, you are.’
‘Good. Now let us canter to the gate and get you home in time to change for “frippery discussion”.’
*
When Lord Ledbury entered the house it was in anticipation of perhaps impeding his wife’s swift change of raiment, but any thoughts of stolen embraces were cast from his mind the moment the door was opened. From above came the sound of raised and uncouth voices. He indicated that Kitty should wait downstairs, but she shook her head.
‘I have to change from my habit, my lord, whatever the problem.’
She followed him up the stairs, which he took two at a time and with an expression that did not bode well for those making the disturbance. At the top of the stairs he saw the door of Kitty’s bedchamber under renovation open wide, and his heart sank. He strode to the door but the question he was about to ask withered on his lips. It was obvious what was going on. The wall opposite the door was minus the ghastly lilac roses, but it was also minus large patches of plaster. He stared at them.
‘My lord,’ Syde regarded him, almost in tears, ‘I am sorry.’
‘Sorry ain’t a-goin’ ter ’elp. All I sez is as we can’t put paper on no wall.’ The gruff workman, who seemed to be in charge, waved his arms at the damage. He then looked balefully at Lord Ledbury. ‘M’lord, that there plaster was busted, blown we calls it. Paper comes off, see, and plaster with it.’ He shook his head. ‘Until that there wall is plastered and dry, we can’t put paper on it.’
‘But her ladyship…’ bemoaned Syde.
Lord Ledbury held up a hand to halt him.
‘Tell me. How quickly can this be repaired and papered?’
The man sucked his uneven teeth.
Mr ’Owlett, as employs us, could lay ’is ’and on a plasterer in two shakes of a lamb’s tail. But even if this ’ere wall is fixed up in two days…’ he sighed, ‘if plaster is right off, and you needs three good coats, you’ll be looking at a year, afore it is dry enough.’
Lord Ledbury paled.
‘But ’ere we is lucky, m’lord. Them’s shallow ’oles, just top skim layer, and the weather is getting warmer. I reckons as it ’ud be three weeks afore I’d put paper on.’
‘Three weeks.’ Lord Ledbury heaved a great sigh of relief, but could not keep the tinge of disappointment from his voice.
‘Yer can’t rush dryin’, not even if yer woz the King’s Majesty Hisself.’
‘No, I see that. Well, remove any damaged plaster today and have a plasterer here first thing.’
‘M’lord.’ The workman touched his forelock respectfully, and Lord Ledbury went to his wife’s temporary chamber and knocked. Wootton came to the door, and curtsied but did not look as if she would grant him admittance.
‘Kitty,’ he called, over her shoulder.
‘Come in my lord, though I am not yet ready.’ Wootton stood aside with some reluctance and he advanced into the room. His wife stood in her petticoats, awaiting her gown. There was rather more Kitty than he had seen for some time, and it disordered his thoughts.
‘Your chamber.’
‘I gather something awful has happened. Do not tell me the roses will not come off by the window.’
‘No.’ He had to clear his throat, which felt dry. ‘Er, the wall came off.’
‘The w… Oh no.’ She turned to face him fully, and looked so disappointed that he felt strangely cheered. If she was also looking forward to its completion already… ‘Will it take long to repair?’
‘Three weeks from plastering, though that could be tomorrow and the next day if no further damage appears on the other wall.’ He looked over his shoulder at Wootton. ‘Leave us a minute.’
Wootton looked to her mistress, who nodded. The maid left with a sniff and a reminder that her mistress still needed her hair tidying. Lord Ledbury held out his hands to his wife, who took them in her own. He stepped close, and looked down at her.
‘Ten days seemed so long. Three weeks… I am not sure I can bear three weeks,’ he managed, a little huskily. His hands moved up her bare arms, and he pulled her close. ‘Kitty I…’
She smelt of some light fragrance; her skin was soft and warm. He made a noise akin to a low growl and began to run kisses down the curve of her throat. She did not stop him, did not want to stop him, and yet gasped, ‘Richmond Park.’
‘Say you are laid upon your bed with a headache,’ he mumbled. ‘At least the first part will be true.’
She gave a low, slightly hysterical laugh.
‘But I was seen riding but ten minutes past. My lord, I… we cannot, not now. Please.’
Her entreaty halted him as reason would not. He lifted his head and looked at her.
‘You do not want to.’ Chagrin and disappointment were mingled.
‘I do not want to disappoint my friend, or indeed Lord Inglesham. As for what I “want”, my lord,’ she smoothed the back of her fingers down his cheek, ‘I am learning to “want”, but it is… I am afraid if I disappoint you this time…’
‘You will not.’
‘I cannot be sure, in myself, not yet. It is so important to me.’
‘It is?’ His disappointment was alleviated by a peculiar elation. ‘I… our marriage…’
She had never seen him look eager but unsure.
‘I want to say “I love you” when I lie in your arms, my lord, and dream that just perhaps you may echo those words as sincerely.’ There, she had admitted it. It would be false, and foolish, to deny she wanted his love, not just his loving. His hold slackened a fraction and his expression became serious.
‘I cannot promise what I have never experienced, but you are important to me too, Kitty. I do not know why, just that you are. Will that suffice, for the present?’
‘It will suffice.’ She smiled, tentatively. ‘Now, if I am not to travel in my petticoats, and be a terrible torment also, I must dress, and Wootton will be horrified if you remain.’
‘The day will come, my wife, when she will have to be horrified, as she departs.’ He kissed her cheek, squeezed her shoulders and gave her a lopsided smile as he withdrew. The smile was gone by the time he crossed the threshold and told Wootton she might return to her duties.
*
To all but the most astute observer it was a perfectly serene couple who joined the picnic party. Lord Inglesham however, was very acute. Once Lady Ledbury was caught up in conversation with Lady Rowington, he looked questioningly at his friend and asked what was up, sotto
voce.
‘It is what is down that is the problem.’
Lord Ledbury explained what had happened with the plaster. Lord Inglesham could not help but be amused at his companion’s expressions.
‘How… unfortunate. A chamber like unto Jericho, eh?’
‘It is all very well for you to laugh, Henry, but…’ Lord Ledbury could not simply reveal why the completion of the bedroom had such importance. There was a pause, and the earl made his big bay hang back a trifle. ‘Henry, how do you not think about… I mean celibacy is not natural so… But ever since we met…’
Lord Inglesham looked resigned rather than miserable, and shrugged.
‘At first it was that grief pushes all such thoughts away, for a long, long time. Thereafter I suppose one becomes used to the state, and of course I do not put myself in situations where… And I have never found anyone who could fill the place of… Emily.’ Unconsciously, he glanced at Miss Sudbury, who, with her back to the coachman, was in full view ahead of them in the second carriage of the party and the strange half-remembered feeling washed over him again.
‘I am not used to the state, and I am constantly in “situations”,’ complained Lord Ledbury. ‘You said I ought to see things from my wife’s viewpoint. I have tried, am trying, but by God, it is not easy.’
‘Patience is a virtue, George.’
‘Oh no, not you too. That is a phrase far too often quoted. Let us catch up with the ladies, and you can “not look” at Lady Rowington’s sister as much as you please.’
Henry Inglesham blushed and denied any interest in Miss Sudbury. This was met with a laugh, which reached Lady Ledbury’s ears. She might not be able to see her husband, but the sound of him clearly happy made Kitty feel buoyed up to a quite remarkable degree. Her friend glanced at her profile.
‘You know, I think marriage does suit you. I wondered, briefly, but it does. This morning you look… very…’ She frowned. ‘Very something upon which I cannot quite put my finger.’
It was Kitty’s turn to laugh.
‘It must be the spring fresh air, Charlotte. I was never one to enjoy being cooped up.’ She wanted to steer the conversation well away from her marriage. ‘Perhaps that was why I did not flourish during my London debut. Had all the entertainments and dinners been al fresco I might have appeared to advantage.’
‘And that, my dear,’ remarked her friend, knowledgeably, ‘is a polite way of telling me to leave well alone. I ought, I know, but I am not sure that I will… eventually. You see, Kitty, I account you as one of my dearest friends, and I so want you to be happy, as happy as I am myself.’ Her gloved hand gave Kitty’s a squeeze, and then she sighed. ‘I want Lucy to be happy too, but I fear I am doomed to disappointment in that quarter. It is as if she wears her blacks even when in the most fetching shades. If she smiles once in a day I consider us blessed. What gentleman will see past such an open grief? For underneath she is a sweet and happy girl, or rather she was until…’ Lady Rowington shook her head. ‘Now I am like to put us both into gloom too. Cheer me up, and tell me who has come to visit you in Manchester Square.’
‘I can cheer you, but you must promise not to laugh at my adversity, or else I will instruct the coachman to stop immediately, request my lord to take me up before him, and gallop away home.’
‘Goodness!’ Lady Rowington looked suitably aghast.
‘Annabel, my new sister, deigned to call, and rarely have I desired to shake her more. Or to laugh, for that matter. She could not decide which was worse, the amount Bidford spent to get rid of me, or my profligacy with that money upon new curtains. She attempted to give me advice, Charlotte, upon economy! I very nearly rushed out to buy three new carpets just to annoy her.’
‘They have come up to Town?’
‘Yes, but fear not, they are being frugal.’ Kitty giggled. ‘Annabel explained that it was cheaper than visiting all her relations one by one, and they are staying with her parents, because her sister Cassandra is coming out this year.’
‘Cassie might have come out last year had not Annabel been “unclaimed”. I feel sorry for her, poor thing, and even more so if Annabel and Bidford are staying and putting a blight upon everything.’
‘My brother Bidford is a blight, but I suppose I should be just. He “sold” me because Annabel would not share Bartons with me, and cared not to whom I was handed over. At first I was outraged, but I think no situation could be worse than having to have remained under the same roof as that pair.’
‘Really, Kitty. That is not very flattering to Lord Ledbury.’
‘Am I being maligned, ma’am?’ The earl and Lord Inglesham drew abreast of the barouche. His words were jesting, but there was a glint in his eye. Kitty did not flinch.
‘Not maligned, sir, but I have to declare you a coward, turning tail as you did when my sister Bidford appeared yesterday.’
‘“Appeared” as in “an apparition” would be fitting, and that was not cowardice, just plain good sense. Had I remained I would have likely strangled her.’
‘And thereby done Society a favour. Craven, there is no other word for it.’ Kitty lifted her chin and challenged him, her eyes dancing.
‘You see my problem, Lady Rowington,’ bemoaned Lord Ledbury. ‘My wife of less than two full months wishes to see me dragged off in chains and cast into Newgate, if not face the noose.’
‘Untrue! I should have thought to see you applauded, not arraigned.’
‘Which shows a fatal lack of knowledge in matters of law, even if it is a more cheering sentiment, my lady.’ His lips twitched, and Kitty laughed.
Lady Rowington drew her own conclusions.
*
Whilst the journey to Richmond was taken at a far more sedate pace than either of the Ledburys would have chosen, they arrived with the sun still so high and bright as to make the ladies demand that the picnic be set out in the light shade of a beech newly come into leaf. The entourage of servants, which had reminded Kitty of the drawings of caravanserai bringing silks from the Orient, placed chairs and cushions in neat array, and the two carriages of ladies and their attendant gentlemen settled themselves to partake of the best that Lady Rowington’s cook could create. Besides Lady Rowington and her sister, the Ledburys and Lord Inglesham, there were present Miss Erith, a young lady making her debut like Lucy Sudbury, and her mama, Lady Erith, and two young gentlemen whom Lord Ledbury dismissed as wet behind the ears cubs. One of them was Lord Erith, only down from Cambridge the previous summer, and his companion was a tongue-tied youth whom he addressed as ‘Cuthbert’. Lord Ledbury missed the surname and had no inclination to find it out thereafter. Cuthbert possessed a very noticeable Adam’s apple, which bobbed up and down quite disconcertingly, and gave Miss Erith a fit of the giggles. When Lady Rowington was asked why her lord had not also accompanied them, she pulled a face, and laughed.
‘I shall not repeat his expressions of horror at the thought, Lord Inglesham. He holds that eating out of doors is for farm labourers with their heel of cheese and part loaves, and nothing would persuade him to give me his “protection”. How grateful I am that you and Lord Ledbury were not so…’
‘Sane?’ Lord Ledbury raised an eyebrow.
‘Oh dear, do you dislike the pastime too, sir?’ Lady Rowington looked a little concerned.
‘I am ambivalent, ma’am.’
‘Then all credit to you, my lord, for not abandoning your wife for the day.’
‘Oh, I have no intention of abandoning my wife, today or any other,’ he responded swiftly, and Kitty blushed, just as he hoped she would.
Lucy Sudbury, who viewed Lord Ledbury with great wariness, frowned a little. The dalliance seemed too ‘grown up’ to her, and made her feel even more awkward. Lord Inglesham, who had tried, and failed, to avoid glancing in her direction, noted the expression but said nothing. After all, there were two young gentlemen who might be considered far more likely to amuse her out of her sobriety. At least, that was what he told himself.
&nbs
p; In fact Lord Erith, having realised that a party, al fresco but under the maternal eye, was not going to be the jolly spree he had envisaged, was making his boredom known, and ignoring the pained looks of his mama. Cuthbert, he of the bobbing Adam’s apple, was too overawed to be loquacious, and confined himself to blurted praise for the food, and thanks to his hostess. Miss Sudbury played her minor role dutifully, if without enthusiasm. She liked the fresh air and the trees, but then they also reminded her of home, and home reminded her of loss.
Lord Ledbury was bored, and thinking how much better it would be if he and his wife were elsewhere. Those who knew him better would have awaited some very dry comments. Yet whether out of consideration for his wife, or a more general humanity, he kept Lady Erith just short of a blush, made Lady Rowington giggle on two occasions, and threw his lady such looks as indicated, covertly, that he would most certainly have preferred it had they cried off the expedition and confined themselves within her bedchamber. He was on his second slice of a fine raised pie when Miss Erith let out a shriek which made her mama spill her wine over her gown.
‘Marianne, whatever…’
‘An ant!’ screamed Miss Erith.
Lord Ledbury could not contain himself. His attempts at being ‘pleasant company’ came to an abrupt halt.
‘One ant? A single ant? I was sure it must have been a snake from the degree of your alarm, ma’am. If it offends you with its presence, squash it.’
Miss Erith shuddered.
‘Be fair, my lord,’ mumbled Cuthbert, unhelpfully, ‘where there is one ant, many are likely to follow.’
Miss Erith squeaked, and rose quickly to her feet.
‘For heaven’s sake, Marianne…’ Her mama gave her a stern look, and told her, with an asperity born of the knowledge that removing traces of even white wine would probably be impossible and that her gown would be ruined, not to be ridiculous.
Miss Sudbury let out a sharp cry of pain.
This stopped the reprimand, which was in full flow. All eyes turned upon Miss Sudbury, who held up her left hand.
‘I have been stung.’ Her voice trembled a little.
Lord Erith, to her right, recoiled, but Lord Inglesham promptly took the pale hand tenderly in his own, begging Miss Sudbury’s forgiveness at his temerity and peering closely at it.
The Devil You Know Page 16
