Jo Beverley - [Rogue ] (19 page)

Nicholas smiled fully with relief. "Thank you. I know this is not at all heroic, but it is service of a kind and it will be soon over."

Chapter 7

As he had predicted, Nicholas had already left by the time Eleanor rose the next morning. She had slept longer than normal and woke with a tightness in her head she thought must be the aftereffect of the wine. Perhaps it was also the dregs of the wine that made her feel depressed. Or perhaps it was the fact that her husband, that new and yet already potent part of her life, was no longer present.

Come, my girl, she told herself as she scrubbed at her face and rinsed her mouth, this will never do. You will do him no service by sinking into a decline every time he goes away from home.

As she ate her breakfast she resolutely analyzed her life, seeking only the positive.

She could not deny that the recent change was amazingly for the better. She supposed a true lady would have been so undone by what had happened to her that recovery would have been long and difficult. Perhaps her mother had been correct in lamenting that she would never become a true lady, that she lacked sensibility. That horrible night, however, had always seemed to be a nightmare rather than reality, and since her marriage she had only once had any sort of bad dream about it. She had little difficulty in pushing it to that dark corner of the mind where such unpleasant events are stored.

Solely as a result of that night, she was now a woman of independence, or as much independence as was possible within marriage. No, she considered, rather more. Few women had husbands so insistent on the freedom of their wives.

She had a kind and thoughtful husband—rather more than that, her honesty prodded. She possessed a lovely home, fashionable clothes, and more pin money than she knew what to do with. She could call her carriage or spend the day in bed; go out and purchase whatever took her fancy or commission some fabulous item especially to her design.

And what did she owe for all this? She pondered as she stirred her tea. All the payment required was that she be an undemanding wife.

If her husband was a clever manipulator he did not seem to use his wiles to her detriment. She must not be so resentful of it. Neither must she fall into a decline whenever he left, nor feel hurt if he did not tell her all his business. Above all, she must never ever show she knew he had a mistress, much less that she cared.

It took a few minutes for her mind to handle this matter to her satisfaction, but at last she felt she had done it. She told herself bravely that even if he brought Madame Therese home to dine she would not so much as blink an eye.

Having dealt with all that, Eleanor had plans to make. It was not enough, she knew, to sit at home and be complaisant. Nicholas must see that she was happily living her own life and making a place for herself within his level of society.

Her nerve almost failed at the thought. Lionel Chivenham's sister... Well, she could put aside all thoughts of Almack's, that was certain. She chuckled when she remembered the horror the young men had expressed last night at the thought of the marriage mart, and here she was wishing she could gain admittance.

Then, a piece of toast halfway to her mouth, she thought of the aunts. Lady Christobel and Mrs. Stephenson both moved in the best circles. Would they help her? She rather doubted it. If, however, she could find a way to use their rivalry, they might be willing to make the attempt.

How was the trick to be turned? To go to one before the other ran the risk of the slighted one taking offense. She wished she could consult with her devious husband, but he was out of town and it needed to be put in hand immediately.

Lord Stainbridge? She was not happy at the thought of seeking his help. On the other hand, he should be made to do something to make up for his actions, even if it seemed unlikely he would ever acknowledge them. With a nod, she put her food aside and went to the library to write a note asking him to call on her at his convenience.

She also made a note to herself to order personal stationery.

Lord Stainbridge clearly did not feel the awkwardness of their situation. He arrived within the hour.

She cut short his searching enquiries as to her well-being and laid her idea before him.

"Yes," he said, "you are right that they could do the trick, put into harness. Aunt Christobel is very close with the Drummond-Burrell. If anyone can get you into Almack's it is she. And Aunt Cecily is extremely well connected."

He fell silent, considering, biting his lip. She found herself thanking the heavens that Nicholas had no such irritating habits. It obviously was effective, however, in enabling him to make decisions.

"The only way," he said at last, "is to give them separate duties, and stress how the other lady could not do it. Aunt Christobel can be given the task of getting you into Almack's. It is certain Aunt Cecily could never achieve that. But I could ask Aunt Cecily to give a party for you. She gives beautiful entertainments, solely because she has an excellent staff and her invitations are rarely refused. Those invited are a select group, too, only the most correct, of course, but just the sort you need to get in with."

"What should I do then?" she asked him.

"Nothing. Leave it to me. I think I can carry the trick. Just be prepared to act as proper and as appreciative as can be."

He rose to leave, but hesitated by the door. She knew something was coming that made him feel uncomfortable. She wondered if he was at last going to express remorse.

"About your brother..." he said.

"Yes?"

"You won't feel it necessary to have much to do with him, will you? I know he's your only family..."

Eleanor realized that expecting him ever to refer to that dreadful night was unrealistic. He had probably wiped it from his mind. On the whole, she was not sorry. She couldn't imagine how she should respond.

"Lionel is a toad," she said flatly. "I never want to see him again."

"Good, good. Nicky said he'd handle him, so I don't suppose he'll importune you..."

"I don't suppose he will," she said, "especially as he must now be moving to take charge of my part of our inheritance. It should suffice him for a year or so, if his debts are not too enormous."

He paled at this. "He will have to prove that you have broken the terms of the will. I wonder what..."

What his complaint will be, Eleanor completed silently. She reassured him. "My 'elopement' will be excuse enough if I do not contest the matter, and I will not."

"There may be legal papers," he said. "Do not do anything without consulting Nicky, will you?"

"Of course not."

"Where is he?"

Eleanor's heart sank. She had doubted she could avoid the question, but she had hoped.

"He has had to go out of town for a few days. He left this morning."

His lips pursed as they always did when he was put out. "What could be so important—"

"It was business he had arranged long ago," she interrupted calmly. "He will be back for the family gathering on Friday."

"He says he will. It is really too bad! To leave you in a strange house like this, to make all these arrangements without any assistance when he must know how unused you are to all of this-"

"I do not think he will break his word, Lord Stainbridge," Eleanor broke in before her patience snapped and she said things better left unsaid. "I am a rather independent person, and I'm completely happy to have been left to arrange my life to suit myself. It is a luxury I have never had before, or at least not with the money to make the situation comfortable. If I do need help," she added diplomatically, "I am sure you are more able to help me with these social matters than he would be."

With this she sent him on his way happy. She thought ruefully that she had little reason to carp at her husband for playing people on a string when she was so assiduously copying the technique.

It was a relief to be rid of the earl, though, and a relief to have avoided the worst question, which concerned Nicholas's whereabouts. She knew only that it was Hampshire, a county that stretched from close to London down to the coast. She knew he would have seen her ignorance as a further affront to her and a further cause for complaint against his brother.

Did a wife have a right to know? What if there was some family disaster, would she not be expected to send for him?

She put the problem aside for a moment and started her attack on Society. She ordered the carriage, and Jenny to accompany her, and went out to open a subscription at Hookham's. There was always a chance that by moving in the right circles she might meet up with an acquaintance from her school days, though Miss Fitcham's did not attract the highest levels of society. It had been chosen for Eleanor because of its low fees.

Indeed, she did not meet any school friends in that elegant and lofty establishment, and emerged with books and not acquaintances. That did not surprise her, and at least she had the longed-for
Gaiour
.

When she returned home she sent out Thomas, the footman, to order cards both for herself and for her husband. When she left cards she would be expected to leave one of his for the master of the house, and she had no way of knowing whether he had sufficient. She also requested styles of stationery to consider.

She sent a standing order to a florist recommended by Hollygirt so there would always be fresh flowers in the reception rooms. She invaded her husband's stored treasures in a more systematic manner, finding any number of items suitable for display.

Finally she summoned a house decorator and a cabinetmaker for the next day. From the taste he had shown so far in the house, she knew it might be wiser to wait for Nicholas to return, but she felt a tendency always to wait for his advice was unhealthy.

Then, satisfied with her day's work, she allowed herself to relax with Lord Byron.

The next day Sir Stephen called with his sister, Miss Fanny Ball. It was doubtless kindly meant, but Miss Ball proved to be a trenchant bluestocking with a proselytizing spirit. Eleanor accepted an invitation to a literary evening the lady was holding the next week, but conditionally, as the speaker was apparently a Mr. Walker, the author of a critical analysis of Lord Bacon's philosophy. Eleanor was sure she ought to be fascinated by such a subject, but she could summon little enthusiasm.

She was rather better pleased when she encountered Lord Darius Debenham in Green Park and was introduced to his cousin, Lady Bretton. This also resulted in a promise of cards for a small soiree to be held the next week, one Eleanor could look forward to, for the lady was so lively and witty she was sure her entertainments would be delightful.

There was no possibility of a developing friendship, however. Eleanor had thought the lady merely plump, but Lady Bretton confided she was to leave London within weeks, being yet again—with a sigh—in an interesting condition. "And always in the Season," the woman bewailed.

Next, Eleanor received an invitation to a theater party to be held by Lady Maria Graviston, the marquess's sister. The invitation was brought by Lord Arden, along with an offer to escort her.

"And what did you tell your sister, my lord?" Eleanor asked, surprised to be recognized by such a member of the haut ton.

"The truth," he said with a smile. "That you are new in Town and need introductions. She's very good-hearted." With a naughty twinkle he added, "If you come, you'll see Blanche."

"In your sister's party?" Eleanor queried in astonishment.

He laughed. "On the stage. Mrs. Blanche Hardcastle, the White Dove of Drury Lane."

She found his proud acknowledgement of the woman endearing, and had to admit her curiosity was piqued. She had a morbid interest in the subject of mistresses.

Lady Graviston proved to be a pleasant lady some ten years older than her brother. She bore little resemblance to her handsome brother, being brown haired and of sallow complexion, but she was impressively elegant. No matter what she had said to Lord Arden, Eleanor was aware that she was subjected to a thorough scrutiny before the lady warmed to her. From then on, however, everyone in the party was very pleasant.

Eleanor began to think that she might be able to establish herself in Society on good behavior alone—with the backing of the Delaney name and help from the Company of Rogues.