‘Good morning, my lady. As you can see, the fresh plaster is very wet, but the foreman seemed very pleased with it and thought that what with the weather being warmer than usual, and the plaster being but a thin layer, another three weeks should see it dry enough to paper, in fact possibly a few days less than that may be needed if a fire is kept in the grate, as you can see we are doing. I have a maid check it every few hours. The curtains and bed hangings are already completed and being kept from dust and creasing by the housekeeper.’ The butler coughed, meaningfully. ‘I am well aware that his lordship is not pleased by the protracted nature of the repairs, but the process cannot be hastened beyond having a fire lit in the grate each day, which I have seen is done.’
‘Thank you, Syde. You are quite right. His lordship would prefer all such things done by magic and a snap of the fingers.’ She smiled at the retainer. ‘It will be worth it when it is ready.’ Secretly, this was a hope not an assertion.
*
Lord Ledbury did not encounter his wife until late afternoon, when she returned from paying several rather mundane morning calls to distant connections who had sent round their cards upon discovering that Kitty, no longer her brother’s ‘pensioner’ and only an afterthought in the mental list of relations, was now in Town and might prove socially useful. Having been exposed to a litany of a second cousin’s marriageable qualities, listened to another mother bemoaning an untimely appearance of ‘freckles’ which sounded very much like adolescent blemishes, and a third making clear indications that she would cling like a limpet to Kitty’s social ‘flagship’ given even half a chance, Kitty was rather subdued upon her return, and was drawing off her gloves and about to order tea when Lord Ledbury emerged from the book room with a thin-faced and stoop-shouldered man whom he introduced as Greenodd, his man of business. Mr Greenodd made a low bow, and Kitty could not quite rid herself of the impression that he eyed her as if she were capital in the bank, as she afterwards remarked to her husband.
‘He is certainly delighted at the boosting of the family finances, although he might be less pleased if he knew how much I have set aside for my stable.’ Lord Ledbury grinned. He had no qualms about admitting the destination of much of Kitty’s dowry.
‘And you have not told him about the renovations at Melling Hall, or the purchases here?’
‘I, er, made vague intimations that you found it necessary to make some few improvements.’
‘Not enough to prevent him looking at me as if I were the fatted calf.’ Kitty pulled a wry face.
‘You are neither fat nor bovine, my dear, I assure you.’ The earl’s grin broadened.
‘Such compliments, my lord, are like to make my head spin, instead of ache.’ She rubbed her brow.
‘I had not thought you would be junketing about this afternoon.’
‘I have not been “junketing”, as you put it. I made calls, out of duty and with some reluctance.’
‘So would you prefer to lay upon your bed, or will you tell me of these “duties” over tea?’
The thought of lying in peaceful silence was enticing, but he was evidently trying to make time for her, so she declared that tea, if augmented by sympathy, would be very nice.
‘I am not sure I am cut out for sympathy, but I will certainly listen as long as is it not to a list of ailments.’
‘I would not bore you with a graphic description of my headache, sir, though you may become bored by my uninspiring distant relations, who now view me as “useful”.’
‘As opposed to “useless”?’
‘Oh, decidedly. You see, as Bidford’s sister I was just the sort of non-person they would forget, but now…’ Kitty smiled, despite the thumping in her head, ‘I am the Countess of Ledbury, and they are “so delighted” to renew, or more accurately, commence, our acquaintanceship.’
‘Ah, hangers-on. I see.’ He took her elbow and walked with her up the stairs, having requested tea. ‘Why not just ignore them?’
‘Tempting.’ She sighed.
‘I would.’
‘Yes, you would, but that does not mean it is the polite thing to do, my lord.’
‘Politeness is just another virtue and you know how little I think of virtues.’ He followed her into the blue saloon, and seated himself casually where he had a good view of her face. She shook her head.
‘Are there any virtues which you do not consider overrated, sir?’
‘Since I am not inclined to think about them, I am not sure that I do, though I disapprove of the vices of gluttony, sloth and avarice, which is not the same, before you say a word, as wanting to be able to keep my racing string up to scratch.’
‘I was not going to say a thing.’ A dimple peeped.
He rose, and was going to lean and kiss the dimple, but the tea was brought in at that moment, and so instead he stood before the fire as the tea things were laid out. When she poured him a cup and proffered it, their fingers touched for an instant.
‘I missed you on our ride this morning,’ he murmured.
‘Our ride. That sounds very regular.’
‘I wish it to be so. You are most “you” when upon horseback.’
‘As opposed to…?’
‘I mean you relax. And you show to advantage. In fact,’ he admitted, ‘you look remarkably attractive. It is a good job we ride early or I would be warning off all manner of fellows wishing to flirt with you as you trot round.’
Kitty spilled tea on a cushion. Fortunately it was not one which would survive the arrival of the new furnishings.
*
Lord Ledbury’s desire to return to his wife’s good favour was not the mood of an afternoon, but persisted, rather to her surprise. At dinner he was all consideration, and offered to squire her to a concert which she knew perfectly well would bore him in the first ten minutes, and a bored Lord Ledbury was ‘dangerous’. She smiled at him.
‘I think I would rather stay at home myself, to be honest. And besides, I would feel very guilty exposing you to an evening of Italian songs and harp playing. You would be itching to leave after the first piece.’
‘And how do you know I am not, very quietly, cast into raptures by er, harp music?’ He was smiling back at her, that smile that made her feel the most fortunate woman in London.
‘Call it wifely intuition, sir.’
‘I shall do no such thing. I would hate to think you could read me like a book.’
‘If I did, you would be a book with a very complicated plot, I assure you, not some simple tale.’
‘It gets worse.’ He pulled a face. ‘Now I am reduced to being some Gothic villain.’
‘I did not mention “villain”. For all you know I might see you as the hero.’ She looked sideways at him.
‘There is not much scope for heroism in our own drawing room.’
‘No, and I have to say that when I was faced with my new sister-in-law you exhibited every sign of cowardice.’
‘I did, didn’t I.’ He sounded unrepentant and his smile became a grin.
‘And you are proud of this?’
‘Oh yes. It is a wise man who knows when to withdraw. Look at Wellington. He withdrew in the Iberian Peninsula and saved his army for victories in the future.’
‘Yes, but against the same foe, my lord. In order to match his Grace, you would have to face her when she comes again.’ She laughed.
‘You are not seriously suggesting inviting her here, are you?’ The earl looked appalled.
‘Regretfully, I cannot see how we can avoid inviting them both to our party. Not doing so would look very much as though there was a rift between us.’
‘But there is.’ His lordship frowned.
‘You know this, and so do I, but we need not let the whole world be privy to it.’
‘Can’t see why not. Bidford is hardly the life and soul of the party and is generally thought of as a tight-fisted bore. I only sat and listened to him that night he…’
‘Tried to sell me?’ Kitty filled the pause.
‘Yes. If you want the word with no bark on it. He was drunk, and I was not entirely sober.’ He looked intently at her. ‘Which is not the same as saying it was a mistake, my dear.’
‘No, but was it?’ She asked the question directly.
‘I do not think so. Not everything that is unplanned ends in disaster. I well remember buying a yearling filly of quite unremarkable lineage upon the spur of the moment and she not only won consistently but now produces foals that sell at four times the price I paid for her.’
Kitty covered her face with her hands. ‘And now I am like a horse!’
He came and sat beside her, taking down her hands to reveal her face with tears of mirth upon the cheeks. ‘I like horses, as you know.’ There was a twinkle in his eye.
‘Beast.’
In response, he leaned and kissed her wet cheek. She coloured slightly.
‘Since I have freed you from the chains of musical performance, will you be going out this evening, my lord?’
‘I think I too shall remain at home, and keep you company.’
‘You will?’
‘No need to sound quite so surprised, madam. We enjoyed our one spent together alone, and might pass another entertaining evening.’
‘Ooh, and you could tell me about your racehorses.’
For a moment he thought she was being ironic, then he realised she was serious and burst out laughing.
‘I could, I really could, and you, perhaps alone among the women of my acquaintance, would not be bored.’
‘Indeed not.’ She leaned, a little tentatively, into his shoulder. ‘Tell me.’
He stretched out his legs in front of him, slid his arm about her, and began with the first horse he had purchased after he had been sent down.
‘Oh dear. Were you so poor a student?’
‘No, but I kicked over the traces far too often. There was nobody to beat one, as there had been at school, and temptation was so tempting.’
‘I feel this is where I ought to “tut”, sir.’
‘You are at liberty so to do.’
‘Tut, tut.’ She giggled, and he gave her shoulders a squeeze. ‘The thing is afterwards I decided gaming with cards was far less interesting than betting upon horses, and that owning the horse oneself made it better still. So when I won a decent figure, I went and bought Cornucopia.’
He warmed to his theme, and Kitty relaxed. For over an hour he talked, and she was content to listen, storing up the information and treasuring the sharing of what was important to him. When he stopped she said nothing, and he thought she had fallen asleep against him.
‘Kitty?’
‘Mmm? I am listening. Why did you sell Wait and See?’
‘You really were listening.’
‘I said so.’
He did not answer her question, but was silent, enjoying the novel warm feeling of close companionship. He had not been flirting but talking as he might with Henry Inglesham, and she, his wife, had been listening. She really was the only woman he had ever met who would not have fallen asleep or expressed boredom. He looked down at the top of her head.
‘You are a remarkable woman, and I am very glad I married you.’
Kitty moved to sit up and stare at him. Her hair was slightly disordered and one cheek red from the warmth of prolonged contact with his body.
‘Truly?’
‘Truly.’ He bent and kissed her softly, a kiss of genuine affection, and she sighed a sigh that combined pleasure with a sense of relief.
‘This is… nice, isn’t it? I never considered it would be part of being married.’ He sounded surprised,
Kitty did not want to break the spell by asking what he had considered the ‘parts’ of being married.
‘Yes, very nice indeed.’ At that moment the love for him that had been building but kept under control, broke through all her reserve and doubt, and her eyes misted even as she smiled at him.
‘But this reduces you to tears?’ he questioned.
‘In a good way. I am sorry. I am prey to my emotions at present.’ She sat up straight and took a deep breath, accompanied by a small sniff. ‘Now, the evening is not so advanced you might not yet go out in male company, so…’
‘Trying to get rid of me? When you said this was nice too.’ He shook his head in mock disappointment.
‘Not at all. I simply do not want it ruined by you becoming bored, and I shall retire shortly after the tea tray is brought in. It would be a waste of your evening.’
‘Well, I was not suggesting we abandon Society and spend every evening like this.’ He stroked her cheek. ‘I shall remain, very happily, until you retire to your solitary couch, and perhaps thereafter stroll down to my club.’ He paused, then added, ‘And I look forward to it not being solitary, Kitty.’
*
When Kitty did retire, she did so with a lightened heart, and lay for some time, wallowing in the pleasure of the evening. So little had happened, and yet so much. He had not wooed her, well, not more than a trifle, but the intimacy between them had been natural, restful, and a revelation. Oh, if only that could be what they might have at Melling Hall, when not entertaining. If it were a summer evening they might walk together to the stables, and talk horses, and return in the sunset to lie in one another’s arms. If it were winter and the nights long, there would be a fire in the drawing room and they would find other subjects they might share, the house, hunting, their views upon the local squirearchy even. In her reverie, the topics multiplied. She was not so foolish, she told herself, as to think a man would do something he did not enjoy for very long, but he had enjoyed their evening as much as she, and been as taken aback. More than anything, even their rides together, this gave hope for their future as a couple. When she slept, it was to dreams that she awoke without remembering, but with a happy glow.
*
Lord Inglesham surveyed his image in the dressing mirror, most critically, his neckcloth as yet untied. Had his friends, and even more so the ladies of Society, been asked, they would have said he was a well-favoured fellow, and none would have described him as ‘long in the tooth’. This provided him with no solace, however, since he saw himself as simply ‘too old’, not for sparring at Jacksons, or enjoying convivial evenings that lasted well into the early hours, but for wooing the enchanting Miss Sudbury. That the thought had occurred to him at all was a great thing, for not once since Emily and the baby had died had he looked with yearning at another woman. He had assumed his heart was interred with them, and it came as rather a surprise to him that it did beat with greater vigour and romantic stirrings at the sight of a young lady once more. It did not mean that he was blind to the obviously insurmountable barrier to her reciprocating any feelings he might develop. He sighed. He was conscious that he was being foolish. The girl was far too young for him and would be wooed by more youthful and suitable suitors and he would watch from the wings and have his heart bruised. He might excuse his actions by saying that Miss Sudbury was doing him a service, reigniting his emotions, but an excuse it remained.
‘If only she did not look at me and smile in that particular way,’ he said to his reflection. ‘It must be the way she looked upon her father, but it is so beguiling.’
Had he asked Miss Sudbury the age of her late lamented sire at the time of his fatal accident, she would have told him that he was three and fifty, not a mere four and thirty, but of course it was not a subject he was going to raise with that damsel.
‘I am a man of honour, and what a man of honour would do in this situation is make a push to put young men who will appeal to her in her way. Not for Miss Sudbury the empty-headed or shallow youth. She needs a sensible young man who will appreciate her qualities.’
He frowned, mentally reviewing those who might fit the bill. He did not in general pay much attention to the youngsters eight or ten years his junior. He was still frowning when his valet re-entered the room bearing the coat which he had felt it necessary to press a second time, owing to an unfortu
nate crease. That worthy wondered whether his employer was considering a new and complicated arrangement of the starched muslin.
Lord Inglesham dined at his club, and regarded his friend thoughtfully, when Lord Ledbury sauntered in a considerable time later, looking remarkably pleased with life. Of late he had been often preoccupied, and Lord Inglesham had a fair inkling as to the cause. He wondered for a moment if matters had resolved themselves, but it became clear from the earl’s conversation that this was not the case. Astonishingly, his happy mood seemed to have arisen from an evening of convivial domestic conversation. Like Lady Ledbury, Lord Inglesham thought this a great step forward, though it cost him a pang of envy. What would he not give to be similarly entertained.
17
Henry Inglesham’s repeated weekly presence at Almack’s did not go unnoticed, although it did not occur to him that it might do so. The first assumption was that he was showing an interest in the Sudbury chit, since he frequently gravitated to her or her chaperone, Lady Rowington. However, no sooner had this appeared probable, than his behaviour gave it the lie. He still sought out the two ladies, but always with some other gentleman, whom he would present and then leave to make conversation or lead Miss Sudbury onto the dance floor. It was most perplexing, not least to Miss Sudbury herself.
The first time it happened she thought he was being kind to the youthful Lord Otterburn, who was most certainly a very shy young man. Out of sympathy, and a desire to do what Lord Inglesham evidently wished, she took pity upon the poor fellow, put him down for a cotillion and made an effort to put him at his ease. He scarcely dare look her in the eye, and spoke in a soft, somewhat tentative voice, as if expecting a rebuttal of whatever he said. Miss Sudbury could quite see why Lord Inglesham had sought her ‘help’ with him, poor boy. Towards the end of the evening she had the opportunity to exchange a few words with the generous peer, and thanked him.
The Devil You Know Page 20
