Lady Jane's Ribbons (21 page)

Jane had to smile. ‘You’re quite incorrigible, do you know that?’

‘Yes. Now then, about Mr Wheddle’s court appearance.’

‘Well, we still have our license and Mr Wheddle isn’t languishing in jail but is safely back at the Feathers.’

‘Excellent. And have you found out about the new Nonpareil yet?’

Jane sat down, laughing a little in astonishment. ‘Well, I’m sure that Melville didn’t tell you about
that
!’

‘No, Henry did – indeed, he talked of little else throughout luncheon, it was most disagreeable. I’m at a loss to understand the change in him. Tell me, is coaching now his sole topic of conversation?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then he does indeed warrant teaching a lesson he won’t forget. Otherwise he’ll sink beyond all hope of retrieval. Do you know, he didn’t mention poor Blanche once, not once. Anyway, where were we? Ah yes, the new Nonpareil.’

‘We don’t know anything, just that it seems to be very low, which suggests that it might be one of those new safety coaches.’

‘Is it very important that we find out before the race?’

‘Yes, because if it’s fitted with brakes it will have an advantage.’

‘Brakes? Is this Chapman fellow likely to be that new-fangled?’

‘Lewis – Lord Ardenley thinks he is.’

‘And Lewis’s judgment in such things is always so very sound, isn’t it?’

‘So I’m told.’

‘Don’t be huffy, dear, it isn’t becoming.’ The tambour hook began to move again. ‘So, Nonpareil permitting, we’re well on our way still?’

‘
Our
way?’

‘You don’t think I’ve come here to sit and do nothing, do you?
Au contraire, ma petite,
I’ve come to do my bit. I have to earn my place in the Swan with you on the day.’

Jane was startled. ‘But you can’t possibly!’

‘Why not?’

‘Because not even Blanche will travel on the Swan with me.’

Now it was Aunt Derwent’s turn to be surprised. ‘Blanche? Is
she
in on it too? How splendid!
That
will teach young Henry to be so silly. You say she isn’t traveling with you on the day? Why not?’

‘Because the Swan has to be as light as possible. Blanche’s following in her carriage, and I’m sure she’d be only too pleased to have you join her.’

‘That would be most agreeable. Very well, I’ll forgo the Swan, just as long as I’m there on the day, that’s all that really matters.’ She continued her
work a moment longer. ‘Actually, I’ve come up with rather a capital plan myself,’ she murmured.

‘You have? In what connection?’

Her aunt’s smile was positively sleek. ‘That would be telling.’

‘But….’

‘Wild horses wouldn’t drag it out of me – it’s going to be my little secret. Oh, by the way, I forgot to mention, I shall be staying here tonight, but tomorrow I’m going to visit Lady Lindleigh and I shall stay there for a day or so. I intend to be back here in time for the race.’

‘Lady Lindleigh? Isn’t she in Paris at the moment?’

‘Paris? Oh no, of course not, for if she was, how could I be staying with her?’ Aunt Derwent drew a deep, satisfied breath. ‘Do you know, I haven’t enjoyed myself so much since I pretended to elope to Gretna Green with that odious Percy Byrde.’

Jane stared. ‘Since you what?’ she asked faintly.

‘It’s not something I care to talk about now, but at the time it was such a scream, Jenny Lindleigh and I laughed until our sides split.’

‘What happened?’

‘It was a bet. Jenny said that no one could persuade a stuffy miser like Percy to do something as rash as that, so naturally I took her up on it. I got him as far as Doncaster, which was pretty good going, if I say so myself, but the fellow was such an unmitigated bore that I couldn’t carry on any more and so came home with no one any the wiser, excepting Jenny – and Percy himself, of course. He hasn’t spoken to me since.’

‘I’m not surprised. Well, I’ve heard a whisper or two about you, but never in connection with Percy Byrde.’

Her aunt chuckled. ‘No, well he was hardly likely to spread abroad how much we’d fooled him, and Jenny and I were always mindful that discretion meant we could be a little naughty in the future, if we felt so disposed. It was all harmless, of course. We never did anything too wicked.’ She became more serious then. ‘No, you won’t have heard about Percy, but I can well imagine who you
have
heard about. You may ask me about it if you wish; it’s only fair considering I’m in possession of facts concerning
your
secret amours.’

‘My secret what?’

‘Amours, dear, amours. I was referring to the jaunt to Brighton with Lewis.’

‘It wasn’t a jaunt, and it certainly wasn’t an amour.’

‘I used the latter word as meaning affection, not liaison,’ pointed out her aunt. ‘Don’t be so huffy each time Lewis’s name is mentioned, it’s really rather tiresome and it doesn’t fool me in the slightest. But to change the subject, before coming here today I called on several friends in order to become
au courant
with all the gossip. I understand that Lewis is at Maywood with that Cyprian Alicia Brantingham.’

‘Yes.’

‘They’re far too much together for comfort, my dear.’

‘Are they? I really wouldn’t know, and I certainly don’t care.’

‘Stuff and nonsense, you care to your very marrow. I know all about the little scene on the beach at Brighton.’

‘Melville, I suppose.’

‘Melville.’

‘I wonder if the milkmaid knows, and the butcher?’

‘I doubt it, Melville’s tongue-wagging stops with me. So, Lewis told you it was on your knees or nothing, did he?’

‘That would appear to be his requirement. Then he
might
, just
might
consider me again.’ She mimicked his voice. ‘He’s insufferable.’

‘And quite, quite irresistible. Just like the dear Duke of Wellington. Yes, my dear, those whispers are all true, and I freely admit it to you. He was
such
a man, and such a lover. I threw caution to the winds with him, and have never regretted it. In fact, my toes curl with pleasure even now when I think of some of the …well, perhaps some things are better kept secret.’ She looked over her spectacles at her niece. ‘You should go to him, my dear.’

‘I nearly did.’

‘What happened?’

‘I learned that he’d taken Alicia to Maywood with him.’

‘I see. Well, if you don’t mind my saying so, that shouldn’t make any difference.’

‘It makes all the difference.’

‘I’m afraid I don’t agree with you. If you want Lewis Ardenley, you’re going to have to fight for him, not shelter behind your bruised pride. He’s far too good to let slip through your fingers, my dear, and that’s what’s going to happen if you’re not very careful.’ She said this last rather mysteriously.

‘Why do you say it like that?’

‘All in good time, and
now
isn’t the time.’ The tambour hook began to dart in and out again. ‘Jane, if you’re not prepared to get up and
do
something to get Lewis back, I’m afraid that I’m going to have to do it for you, so I hereby give due warning that I’ve a trick or two up my sleeve to do just that.’

The following afternoon, Aunt Derwent declared that she wished to drive in Hyde Park, and accordingly at four o’clock she and Jane set off in the open landau, the wind having gone now and the weather being fine and warm. Jane wore a pink velvet spencer over a cream muslin gown, and she carried
a cream Pagoda parasol, which she twirled a little from time to time. The pink ribbons of her straw bonnet were very firmly attached, and there was no chance today of a repeat of events in the Feathers’s windy stableyard.

Opposite her, in a russet silk pelisse and matching gown, her aunt was in high spirits, smiling and nodding at friends and acquaintances as the landau drove past. She hadn’t elaborated on what her mysterious plan was, and Jane felt vaguely uneasy about it, knowing now that her aunt was capable of attempting anything if she felt so disposed.

Hyde Park was a crush, much more so than usual, and soon after the landau had driven through the elegant gates, the traffic became so congested that it barely proceeded at all. It wasn’t long before Jane realized why, for in the distance she heard familiar chanting and shouting – the queen was making another of her progresses. Luckily, they had happened upon the end of her procession, which was emerging from the far side of the park as Jane’s landau entered, but they were still inconvenienced by the delays as fashionable carriages were forced to wait for the way to clear completely.

There were, as always, a number of horsemen in the park, and one of them detached himself from his group of companions to ride over to the landau. It was Charles Moncarm. He reined in, doffing his hat and smiling as he controlled his capering mount. ‘Good afternoon, Jane, Lady Agatha.’

Aunt Derwent was delighted. ‘Charles! What a pleasure it is to see you! You appear to be in fine fettle.’

He glanced at Jane. ‘I could be even finer.’

Aunt Derwent pursed her lips and nodded. ‘Dame Fortune isn’t always kind.’

‘So I’ve discovered. Well, Lady Agatha, you’ve deserted darkest Beaconsfield for the pleasures of the wicked city. I trust I will be welcome if I call upon you?’

‘My laddo, if you don’t call, I shall make a monstrous fuss and cause you no end of embarrassment over Town.’

He grinned. ‘Then I shall be careful to avoid any such dread possibility by calling on you in the very near future.’

‘I shall be at home this evening, but then I’m visiting Lady Lindleigh for a day, possibly two, I can’t really be sure.’

‘Lady Lindleigh? Hasn’t she gone to Rome?’

‘Why does everyone keep insisting she’s abroad? Jane thinks she’s in Paris, you think she’s in Rome, when all the time she’s languishing at home in Kensington.’

The traffic was beginning to move again and he gathered his reins to take his leave. ‘I shall call then, Lady Agatha.’

‘I look forward to that.’

‘Good-bye.’

‘Good-bye.’

He looked at Jane. ‘Good-bye, Jane.’

‘Good-bye, Charles.’

They watched him ride away, a dashing figure in a dark green coat on a fine mettlesome bay. Aunt Derwent’s eyes slid thoughtfully toward her niece. ‘He’d make a splendid husband, Jane, although I concede that as a lover he most probably lacks Lewis Ardenley’s flair.’

‘If I loved Charles I’d marry him, whether he had flair in that direction or not.’

The landau drove on, completing the circuit of the park and emerging again into the busy thoroughfare of Park Lane, but having to wait for some time for a chance to join the constant flow of vehicles. As they waited, Jane looked out and saw Lewis’s traveling carriage driving smartly southward toward the narrow, congested corner of Piccadilly with both Lewis and Alicia inside. Alicia wore white, from the soft plumes springing from her velvet hat to the snowy lines of her modish pelisse. Her eyes were downcast and she wasn’t smiling – indeed, there was something strange about her demeanor, although Jane couldn’t have said exactly what it was. Opposite her, Lewis wore a wine-red coat and, as was his habit, he had tilted his top hat back on his golden head. His expression was thoughtful, and he gazed out of the carriage window without seeming to be looking at anything in particular.

The carriage passed out of sight among the rest of the traffic, and at last the landau could pull out as well, turning south toward the corner of Curzon Street and then into South Audley Street. Aunt Derwent hadn’t said anything about seeing Lewis and Alicia, but as the carriage drew to a
standstill
at the door of the house, she remained in her seat looking at her niece. ‘They didn’t appear to be in the seventh heaven of delight, did they?’

‘Not really.’

‘Now he’s back in Town, are you going to do anything about things?’

‘Things?’

‘Winning his affections again.’

‘There’s nothing I can do. ‘

‘Rubbish.’

‘This is old ground, Aunt Derwent.’

‘Yes, well now I think it’s time to tell you what I’ve heard. When I called upon my various friends yesterday, I heard a snippet of information which I doubt very much you’ve been told, since it’s very new. It’s about my dear old friend the Duke of Brantingham.’

‘The
duke
?’

‘He has a new love, Jane, and he adores her so much that he intends at last to divorce Alicia.’

Jane stared at her. The duke had always refused to countenance such a course in the past, even though Alicia had given him more than sufficient grounds. It was said that he still loved her. ‘Who – who is this new love?’

‘Lady Mary someone or other – I really didn’t recognize the name.
Anyway, that’s hardly the point. All that matters is that he’s so besotted that he’s all eagerness to rid himself of Alicia, and the moment he does so, she will be free to marry Lewis.’ Aunt Derwent held Jane’s gaze. ‘It’s time to make a move, my dear, because if you don’t, Alicia Brantingham is going to emerge the final victor, and you are going to be miserable for the rest of your life. Oh yes, I mean exactly that, and I speak as one who knows only too well the result of apathy and pride. I could have married the Duke of Wellington, Jane, but I was foolish enough to take a stance, just as you are doing now. Kitty Pakenham won him instead, but she hasn’t the spirit to stand up to him and so he walks all over her. He wouldn’t have walked all over me, I’d have taken him on and oh, how those sparks would have flown. I’d have loved every minute of it, and so would he, but I allowed my vanity to cloud my vision, and I’ve regretted it ever since. I still love him with all my heart, Jane, just as you will always love Lewis Ardenley. I said last night that I had a trick or two up my sleeve, and so I have, and I shall use them on your behalf, you mark my words. The rest is up to you. Either you want him back or you don’t, there’s no in-between anymore.’

Jane felt cold all over, in spite of the warmth of the June sunshine. Until this moment, she hadn’t realized how much she’d come to rely inwardly upon the elderly duke’s obstinate refusal to consider divorce, but now that small comfort was being removed.

Her aunt was looking at her. ‘Well? Does what I’ve just told you make any difference?’

Slowly, Jane nodded. ‘Yes,’ she whispered.

‘I trust that that means you’re going to fight for him?’

‘Yes.’

‘Good.’

Jane and her aunt dined alone that evening, prior to her aunt’s departure for Lady Lindleigh’s house in Kensington. Henry wasn’t at home, having sent word that he was having problems with his new coach and didn’t know how long it would take to put right. Jane wondered if he’d managed to find anything out about the new Nonpareil, and thinking about this inevitably led to thoughts about the new Swan. Would it be ready in time for the race? With only three days left, time was beginning to run very short indeed.

Aunt Derwent was a stickler for dressing correctly at all times, and that meant dressing formally for dinner even when there were only two of them. She had chosen a lilac-and-gray-striped taffeta gown trimmed with
matching
ribbons, and a lilac turban looped with a number of strings of pearls. A black lace shawl was draped lightly over her shoulders, and there were matching fingerless mittens on her hands. At her throat was a black velvet ribbon bearing a golden locket, the contents of which had always been a closely guarded secret, but Jane guessed now that it contained a likeness of her aunt’s great love, the Duke of Wellington.

As Jane sat down in the chair Melville drew out for her, she reflected that if she didn’t somehow manage to win Lewis back soon, then she too would probably one day wear such a locket…. She’d chosen to wear primrose muslin that night, a gown of very simple lines but heightened by Marie sleeves of great intricacy. With it she wore topazes, including a jeweled comb decorating the knot of hair Ellen had pinned up so expertly on her head, and as she made herself comfortable, arranging the folds of her skirts, she knew that she looked well enough to take her place at any fashionable dinner party.

Her aunt looked approvingly at her. ‘You’ll do, my girl, you’ll do.’

‘Thank you.’

‘I can’t abide sloppiness at the dinner table. It’s quite unnecessary and shows ill breeding. Not that I’m suggesting you are ever anything less than well groomed, you understand, it’s just that I happen to think that dinner is a meal to be enjoyed to the full, and for me that means dressing up as much as possible.’

‘I trust it also means enjoying your favorite dishes.’

‘Naturally.’ Her aunt paused. ‘Am I to understand that you’ve chosen my favorites for tonight?’

‘You are. It was too late yesterday, I’d already arranged the meals with Mrs Beale, but today I’ve taken great care to consider your particular taste.’

‘What are we to have?’

‘Tomato soup, made to Mrs Beale’s special recipe, the one you’ve always lamented she will not divulge to your own cook. Then boiled gammon garnished with spinach and dressed with carrots and beans, followed by strawberries and cream, and if you still have room there is cheese, with nectarines, walnuts, and that peach liqueur you once swore you’d sell your very soul for.’

Her aunt was beaming. ‘My
dear
, I shall have to walk all the way to Kensington to pay penance for such overindulgence!’

After the meal, they took the fruit, nuts, and liqueur on the blue saloon balcony. The evening was very fine indeed, the sunset just beginning to tinge the houses and trees with a warm blush. Time was marching on and Jane was beginning to wonder exactly when her aunt intended to set off for Lady Lindleigh’s, but the minutes passed and still she sat there, surveying the gardens and appreciating the scent of roses and honeysuckle filling the air.

In the saloon behind them the long-case clock chimed half-past nine and Jane looked at her aunt. ‘Please don’t think I wish to be rid of you, but shouldn’t you be thinking of leaving?’

‘There’s time yet.’

Melville entered the saloon then, clearing his throat discreetly as he approached the windows standing open onto the balcony. ‘Begging your pardon, madam, but Lord Ardenley has called.’

Jane sat up quickly, but it was her completely unruffled aunt the butler was addressing.

Aunt Derwent nodded. ‘Very well, Melville, please show him up.’

‘Yes, my lady.’

The butler withdrew and Jane looked accusingly at her aunt. ‘You’ve been expecting this, haven’t you?’

‘Yes, my dear, I have. I sent a note to Lewis when we returned from the park this afternoon.’

‘You might have warned me!’

‘That wouldn’t have done at all. You’d have worked yourself up to a fine old pitch if I had. As it is, it’s been sprung upon you and there’s little you can do.’

‘Why has he come? What have you told him?’

‘If you think I’ve told him about your change of heart, you may rest easy, because I haven’t. As a matter of fact, I’ve invited him to discuss purchasing a particular Canaletto of mine that I happen to know he’s long wished to add to his own collection. It’s all perfectly innocent, my dear. I haven’t hatched anything improper behind your back. Hush now, I can hear him coming.’

Jane’s heart was thundering as she heard Melville approaching, Lewis’s steps close behind. The butler stopped at the open door. ‘Lord Ardenley,’ he announced.

Lewis paused in the doorway for a moment, toying with the lace spilling from the cuff of his dark blue single-breasted evening coat. There was more lace on his shirt front, and his cravat was tied in a soft, loose style. His tight trousers were of white kerseymere and he wore white gloves. The silver buttons on his coat gleamed a little in the fading evening sunlight as he crossed the room toward them.

He bowed first over Jane’s hand, his gloved fingers warm and firm about hers before he released her.

‘Good evening, Lewis,’ said Aunt Derwent, looking approvingly at him. ‘You’re looking as splendidly attractive as ever.’

‘The same can more than be said of you, Lady Agatha,’ he said, raising her hand to his lips.

She smiled. ‘Ah, still the silken tongue. Do sit down, sir, and take a liqueur with us.’

He flicked his coat tails and sat on the chair she indicated. Opposite him, Jane was very conscious indeed of the warm blush which had stolen into her cheeks. She felt very vulnerable now that she’d decided she must fight to win him back. Her hands were trembling and she clasped them in her lap.

Aunt Derwent poured him a glass of the liqueur and then sat back. ‘Now then, Lewis, I didn’t explain fully in my note earlier, I just mentioned that a painting you’d long desired just might be available. I was referring to the Canaletto, the view of St Paul’s from Southwark. Are you still interested?’

‘Naturally.’

‘I thought you might be, since you once droned on at considerable length about how perfect it would be for the head of the staircase at Maywood.’

‘For the library at Maywood,’ he said, correcting her. ‘I fear that even such a splendid Canaletto would be rather lost at the head of Maywood’s staircase.’

‘Ah yes, I remember now,’ she replied, nodding, ‘Maywood is rather vast, isn’t it. The library it is, then. I confess that I shall be sorry to part with it, but something has to go because I’ve purchased several very fine portraits by Reynolds.’