“Get out of here,” she breathed, her eyes filled with utter loathing.
“Certainly.” Still smiling, he made an elegant bow and then strolled out past her, pausing in the doorway to look back. “By the way, should you choose not to believe me, I suggest you ask someone to look in White’s betting book; it’s all written down there, in Thornbury’s own fair hand.” Touching his hat to her, he strolled on out. She heard the front door close behind him.
* * *
Later that morning, before she had had time to go to see Guy, she and Katy were ordered yet again to take some of the pupils for an airing in the park. As they emerged from the seminary, they came face to face with Rupert, who was on the point of calling upon Leonie once more.
He smiled. “Good morning, I—”
“Don’t waste your breath, sir!” she interrupted coldly. “I now know exactly what you are about.”
The smile faded from his lips. “About? I don’t quite follow you.”
“Your associate has failed abysmally, and now has protected his interest by informing me all about the wager. My instincts concerning you have always been correct, and I wish to have nothing more to do with you. Please leave me alone from now on, sir.”
He quickly caught her arm. “It’s not true, I swear it. Edward Longhurst is lying.”
“Is he? I mentioned no name, and yet you know perfectly well to whom I am referring.” She shook her arm free. “I find you totally despicable, my lord duke.”
“Leonie—” he began, seizing her arm again.
It was the last straw. Furiously she dealt him a stinging blow across the cheek, much to the incredulity of the watching pupils and several passersby, who halted to watch the scene on the seminary steps.
Anger leapt into his eyes, and in that brief moment his desire for her died. He loathed her now for publicly humiliating him. A nerve flickered at his temple, and he took a step toward her, but he knew that too much attention had already been drawn. Without another word, he turned on his heel and strode away.
* * *
Edward looked up from the billiards table at White’s as Rupert came into the room, his face still dark with anger. The man with whom Edward had been playing immediately detected the strained atmosphere, and discreetly he withdrew, leaving them alone.
Leaning on his cue, Edward smiled a little. “What’s this? A tête-à-tête?”
“No, Longhurst, it’s the formal ending of our friendship.”
“Is it indeed? I’d put you down as many things, Thornbury, but never a poor loser.”
Rupert kept his fury in check, but only just. “I don’t mind losing fairly, but I will not be cheated.”
Edward’s smile faded. “Don’t go too far,” he said warningly.
“You were the one who went too far, Longhurst, and since you’ve now laid down new rules, let me warn you that I’ve learned them very thoroughly indeed.”
“And what is that supposed to mean?”
“Simply that I fully intend to have my revenge for your cheating. The heavy betting on my marriage plans is about to prove your undoing. You’d have been wiser keeping your mouth shut instead of whispering that you believed I would marry Nadia Benckendorff in September.”
Edward felt a cold finger deep inside, but he gave a light, incredulous laugh. “I was joking, and they knew it, for they know as well as I that no man in his right senses would take a woman like Nadia as his wife!”
“It seems they took you seriously, dear boy, as I pointed out to you some time ago.” Rupert gave a cool smile. “They aren’t going to be very pleased when I announce at Poyntons that I am married, are they? Especially when it is first rumored, and then proved, that you have secretly laid a small fortune on precisely that.”
Edward stared at him. “I haven’t laid anything on your damned wedding plans,” he said shortly.
“Oh, I know that, and you do—but they don’t, and I’ve employed the services of a very discreet but very reliable undisclosed agent. Word will gradually get about concerning your duplicity, dear fellow, and it won’t be long before you’re
persona non grata
.”
Edward flung down his cue, his face pale now. “You’ve taken leave of your senses! Your anger I can understand, but not that you’d actually encumber yourself with Nadia Benckendorff simply to be avenged.”
Rupert smiled. “Enjoy the coming days, Longhurst, for by midnight on the ninth of February your name will be spoken of as contemptuously as Richard Conyngham’s, and it seems to me that there is some poetic justice in that. Oh, maybe your crime will not be on exactly the same level, but if there’s one thing society doesn’t take to it’s a lying cheat, and you will be seen as just that.” Inclining his head, he left.
Edward remained by the table, his blue eyes both angry and uneasy, for he could remember some of the names he’d seen in the betting book. It wouldn’t do to be ostracized by such men as those; too many doors would be closed. But then gradually the alarm and unease began to fade away, to be replaced by his usual clever confidence. A great deal could happen before the ninth of February was out, and Thornbury’s ring was far from being on Nadia Benckendorff’s finger yet…. He picked up the cue again and eyed the ivory balls on the green baize table, but as he bent to make a stroke, the door opened once more and his partner returned. Edward glanced up at him and saw a rather hostile look on his face. “What is it, James? You look as if you’ve lost a sovereign and found a farthing.”
“The analogy may not be far out.”
Edward straightened. “Meaning?”
“Meaning that there are whispers about your financial dabblings, Longhurst.”
“Dabblings?” Edward laughed. “I don’t dabble, dear boy.”
“No, you connive.”
Edward’s smile began to fade. “I take it you’re referring to this business of Thornbury’s marriage?”
“I am.”
“Well, let me assure you that whatever you’ve been told is untrue. I haven’t placed any secret bets, nor do I know who or when the fellow intends to get spliced. I do know one thing, though, and that’s that no one will be expecting the actual announcement made at Poyntons on the ninth of February.”
“What do you mean?”
“Patience, dear boy. Oh, and do have more faith in me, it’s very tiresome having you scowling at me like that.” Edward smiled and gestured toward the table. “Your shot, I believe.”
He watched as the other hesitated for a moment and then went to take up his position by the table. As the ivory balls struck one another and then rolled silently over the baize, Edward’s unease returned a little. Thornbury had thought carefully about gaining his revenge, and the only way of defeating him was to see that at midnight on the ninth Nadia Benckendorff remained a free woman.
* * *
As Edward planned his next careful move, Nadia was standing on the pavement outside the embassy in Harley Street, watching as her sleigh was unloaded from the flat-topped wagon on which it had been conveyed from the ship. She huddled shivering in her fur-lined cloak, thinking that there was something decidedly incongruous about
carrying
a sleigh across ice-covered streets which were ideal for driving it along. It was, she decided, typical of the eccentric and incomprehensible English.
She watched the unloading with little pleasure. She had been looking forward to the sleigh’s arrival, but the complete failure of the plan the night before had left her in a very sour mood. She couldn’t believe that after everything, Leonie and Stella had somehow succeeded in eluding the trap, or that they had actually managed to convince Guy de Lacey that they’d never been out. It was so galling to have to remain silent, for to say anything would mean risking awkward questions, which might lead to embarrassing facts coming out into the open. So Leonie Conyngham remained where she was, and as far as Nadia was concerned, that meant that she was still available to Rupert.
A carriage drove carefully over the hard-packed snow and ice toward the embassy, and Nadia’s face cleared as she recognized it. Dorothea! At
last!
Now something could finally be done about Leonie.
The travel-stained carriage halted and Dorothea alighted, followed by a maid carrying Baryshna, the pug dog, in her arms. Dorothea shook out her skirts and then thrust her hands deep into the warmth of her fur muff. She wore crimson, and looked radiant and content. Lord Palmerston was evidently good for her temper. She offered her cheek for Nadia to kiss, and then she smiled. “Nadia,
cherie
, how good it is to see you again. I’ve so much to tell you. Ah, I see that your troika has arrived at last. What a dash you’ll cut now, to be sure.”
“Dorothea, I must speak urgently with you.”
“Urgently? Nadia, I’ve only just arrived back after a very tiring and cold journey.”
“It’s very important.”
Dorothea sighed. “By which you mean it concerns the Duke of Thornbury.”
“I want Leonie Conyngham removed from the seminary, and only you can see that she is.”
“My, my, how your tune has changed,” murmured Dorothea. “When I left, you were delighted to keep her there. I presume that all this is because your wretched duke is still pursuing her. Well, I did warn you.”
“I don’t want a lecture, I simply want her dismissed.”
“There’s no need.”
“No need? What do you mean?”
“Let him bed her, it’s of no consequence, since he doesn’t intend to marry her. He’s going to marry you.”
Nadia’s breath caught. “You’ve heard something?”
“Yes, I’ve heard that he intends to marry on the ninth of February, and the bride is a lady who hasn’t long been in the country.”
Dismay lanced through Nadia. “Marguerite St. Julienne! It’s
her
, not me!”
“No, my dear, I’m assured that it is you.”
“Assured? By whom?”
“Lord Palmerston.”
Nadia gave a disbelieving laugh. “And what does
he
know about it?”
Dorothea was at her haughtiest, “He knows a great deal. On our return to town, we came here by way of White’s, where Lord Palmerston had some private business to attend to. The place is seething with rumor because a certain anonymous bet has come to light in the book. It’s for a vast sum of money and wagers that the duke will marry on the ninth. It is firmly believed that the bet was laid by Lord Edward Longhurst, although he strenuously denies it. When the duke himself was challenged to say if there was any truth in the matter, he did not deny it; he said that he was indeed intending to marry a lady new to England. Like you, many believed he was referring to Miss St. Julienne, but he merely laughed and said that he liked his women pretty. So there you have it, Nadia: everyone at White’s is convinced that you will be the new Duchess of Thornbury on the ninth of February. I’m further convinced that it is true because Lord Edward is very ill-thought-of at the moment, since he is believed to have deliberately misled a number of gentlemen simply in order to make a financial coup himself.”
Nadia wasn’t interested in Edward Longhurst. “Lord Palmerston is certain Rupert did not deny planning to marry me in a week’s time?”
“Quite certain. There can be little doubt, my dear Nadia, that you are soon to be the next Duchess of Thornbury.”
Nadia’s eyes shone. She hardly dared believe it. From the depths of despair she was suddenly raised to the heights of joy. Nadia, Duchess of Thornbury….
“By the way.” Dorothea glanced a little coldly at her. “What’s all this I hear about you and my rubies?”
Nadia’s smile faded, “Oh. Dorothea, I can explain—”
“I trust you can,” replied Dorothea, sweeping past her and into the embassy.
Early that afternoon, Leonie was at last able to set off to walk to Berkeley Street to see Guy, but at that moment he wasn’t at home; he had gone to a repository of fine art in Bond Street with Imogen, who was undecided about which of two landscapes to purchase.
Imogen was struggling to appear all amiability and sweetness, but inside she was seething with anger because of the way things had gone wrong the night before. She was also uneasy, because Guy had once again believed what Leonie Conyngham had told him. Like Nadia, Imogen was frustrated at not daring to tell the truth, for fear of inviting unwanted questions about her own complicity. She knew even more than Nadia now, since Edward had confided in her the previous night about the wager, and the last thing she wished was for Guy to realize how much she was remaining silent about. It was all a great strain, but she was endeavoring to go on as if there was nothing wrong. She only pretended to study the landscapes, for neither of them was to her liking. “I don’t know,” she murmured thoughtfully. “Perhaps they’re both too dark. What do you think?”
“Mm?”
She laughed lightly. “Guy de Lacey, I do believe you haven’t heard a single word I’ve said to you this afternoon.”
He smiled a little ruefully, quickly raising her hands to his lips. “Forgive me, my mind is still on that wretched business of last night.”
“Oh.”
He didn’t notice her reaction. “I can’t help wondering who thought it amusing to send me on such a wild-goose chase.”
Suddenly she couldn’t bear it anymore. “Are you so sure that it was a wild-goose chase?”
“What else could it be? Neither my niece nor Miss Conyngham had even been out.”
“They had. Edward saw them both.” She’d said it almost before she knew the words were on her lips. A hot color flushed swiftly to her cheeks, but she knew she had to go on now that she’d started. “They’ve made a fool of you, your beloved niece and your precious Leonie Conyngham!”
He was very still and unsmiling. “If they have, they do not appear to be the only ones to do it to me, do they? Well, since you’ve embarked upon this confession, I trust you intend to finish.”
She looked quickly, wishing that she hadn’t let her jealousy and frustration get the better of her, but it was too late now. “I….
I
didn’t want to say anything, I wanted you and Stella to come together again, and so I thought it best not to say anything.”
“Did you?”
“Yes! I did!” She felt trapped, both by her own foolishness and by the chill in his eyes.
“What, exactly, did your brother tell you he saw?”