Lady Susan Plays the Game (22 page)

Now Frederica raised her eyes to her own image. Humbly she examined what she saw with the clarity of eye she brought to her nature drawings. She was not a beauty but she was not ugly. She noticed the swell of her breasts under her bodice. For a moment she fingered them, enjoying their softness. She had been conscious of her mother's breasts under her light night attire or their roundness above the plunging décolleté, but she had never seen them entirely. Was there so much difference in the two bodies?

Not long after Christmas day Madam Dacre received more instructions from Lady Susan. She was informed that the suitor Lady Susan had chosen for her daughter, a man of impeccable breeding, manners and large fortune, young and in every way eligible, would be paying his approved addresses in due course. Frederica was inexperienced and did not know her own mind and it was usual for girls of her age to be diffident. By whatever means Madam Dacre cared to employ, she should be brought round. The headmistress would be amply rewarded for her troubles.

Madam Dacre considered the new letter and the payment still owed. If this match was as glorious as Lady Susan promised, she might well receive what was in arrears and more. She resolved to speak to Frederica. Not perhaps yet, but in a week or two. She wondered idly what she did all day, sneaking about the house. But she was a lazy sort of girl, so she probably spent a lot of time in bed as young people did if they had half a chance. She would ask one of the maids to check on her.

Reginald stood admiring the formal pleasure gardens. Even though they were bare, he liked their geometric arrangement at the edge of the shrubbery. He was aware that Lady Susan had entered the room and was looking in the same direction.

‘My sister and brother-in-law must have a splendid display in the spring,' he remarked.

‘I believe they will,' replied Lady Susan, who had little idea of what was in the beds, ‘I love all pleasure gardens but, I confess, I feel most at home with wild flowers. At Someyton we had meadows of spring and summer blooms. It was quite delightful.'

‘You enjoy the outdoors?'

‘Few people would admit to not liking wild flowers.' She smiled at him, then turned to gaze through the window again.

She is like a flower herself
, thought Reginald,
not a wild flower, rather one of the delicate orchids in the Royal Botanic Gardens at Kew
. The blooms looked too fragile and pure for any hand to touch. Yet he ached now for those ringed white fingers to smooth his hair. His emotion startled him and he turned away.

‘It is so peaceful here,' Lady Susan resumed, ‘your sister has been unfailingly kind. She's been both soothing and amusing, just what I needed. I owe her much. She has such good humour.'

Reginald was fond of Catherine but had never found her especially amusing – or always good-humoured. It must be Lady Susan's kind nature that made her see the best in everyone.

‘My daughter will I know greatly benefit from her company when she leaves school.' Contrary to expectation, she'd discovered that Reginald liked seeing her as a loving mother as well as a virtuous widow.

Before he could reply, she gave another smile, inclined her head and quitted the room, knowing that the young man wished very much that she would stay.

She left behind a faint smell of flowers – was it lavender or roses? He couldn't tell. Was he imagining it?

Mr King had not contacted Lady Susan since she left Someyton although she had some time ago asked him for names of moneylenders in London. It was curious. Even more oddly, lawyer Burnett had written to say that another sum had been sent to Reeve & Reeve for her use. Since it was the second time money had arrived unexpectedly she wondered again if Burnett had been fooling her when he read out the will – or had he miscalculated? It was a strange business.

The new sum, so very close to what she had lost in her final game at Lady Harriet's made her momentarily consider whether she could pay off some pressing debts and still afford to return to London and live in suitable style. The idea didn't now overwhelm her as it would have done some weeks ago. She'd never expected anything to please her in Churchill, but she was rather enjoying the game with Reginald. She was gratified both by the infatuated brother and the irritated sister.

She had not heard lately from Jack Fortuny either. He'd last sent a perfumed note in a scrawling hand to make it look as though it came from a lady friend – or so he wrote mischievously within. He'd claimed he had to travel somewhere out of town – he was quite vague. She thought he mentioned Vernon Castle but the writing was so indistinct she couldn't be sure. If he had, it must mean he was going visiting somewhere in the area. She wondered who of their old neighbours he could possibly know.

Meanwhile, Manwaring, dear Manwaring, was beyond her reach, still in the country in disgrace.

‘Do you know Sir James Martin?' Lady Susan asked her brother-in-law as they played a game of whist one evening after a particularly noisy day with the children.

Mr Vernon said he'd heard of the family but was not personally acquainted with the young man. ‘He has a good estate, with fine hunting,' he offered.

Reginald pricked up his ears. The name sounded familiar.

‘Yes, I believe so,' Lady Susan continued, ‘and it's pleasing to me that my daughter has chosen to bestow her heart on such a man. When she's finished her schooling they will make, I believe, an admirable couple.'

Mrs Vernon was surprised to hear things were so advanced. She was fairly sure this was the man promised to the Manwaring girl. It was all very murky, but a mother of a daughter with no dowry might stoop to stealing, she supposed. Her thoughts returned to Frederica. Could she be quite ready for marriage?

Reginald had been silent but his gaze was on Lady Susan while she spoke to his sister. He had never seen eyes like that, so very deep, wells of limpid water. They thrilled him. It was the oddest sensation – nothing like it had happened to him before. And it had come upon him so suddenly. He began to wonder if this could be love. No, the idea was preposterous. He tried to banish it from his mind. If her face had the innocence of a girl, it none the less belonged to a mature woman, far older than he. It was his feelings that were playing havoc with him, not those sculpted features before him.

Yet even as he repelled the thought of real passion he looked fondly at his partner across the table. The look made his sister almost throw down her cards in vexation.

She resolved to have a heart-to-heart talk with Reginald. She must warn him not to let himself be so entrapped; she would tell him how his friends would mock him if he didn't take care. Surely her wonderful brother could see he was being led about like a child. Lady Susan was a dangerous spider; yes, a great spider at the centre of a web of words. Yet even now Mrs Vernon found it difficult to reconcile that image with the charming figure before her. She must ensure that she herself was never, even for a moment, taken in.

She was playing badly and irritating the other three, but all her exertion went to keeping a pleasant expression on her face. Life was usually so easy at Churchill that this kind of effort had become foreign to her and it cost her much.

‘I think I must write tonight to Sir James,' said Lady Susan while the cards were being dealt again. ‘It will soon be time for him to visit Frederica. Madam Dacre tells me she's gained so much from the school; I am pleased – this was why I wanted to be sure she was there as much as possible.' She paused. ‘Otherwise I would of course have wished her with us here in Churchill where I know you would have made her welcome.'

They played for a while in silence. Reginald managed his cards well. It made Lady Susan try harder to control her own hand. She had some skill at whist but knew a man should seem stronger. Mrs Vernon was the type she detested: a trifler with cards, playing at playing.

Lady Susan and Reginald together had ace through jack of the trump suit, honours, and could score four points. Even in so trivial a matter she felt torn. Her instinct was always to win, but for contentment in the house it was better that her sister and brother-in-law do so. She needed to stretch things out so that the game took more than one hand. She must play badly – this would also put the lie to the rumours they must have been hearing of her gaming. If she could let the Vernons have five points, all would be well.

She had no worry that Reginald would think poorly of her – quite the contrary. In any case he was spending more time looking at her than he should. She was aware of it – and so presumably was his sister.

Now, despite beginning well, he was indeed playing badly – badly enough for them to lose with no help from her. So, half way through the second game Lady Susan decided to tax him and get his concentration back on the cards. Despite her initial intention, then, she and Reginald won the game – not by much – Lady Susan saw to that – but enough to put Charles Vernon a little out of humour since he'd wanted to finish the rubber.

Mrs Vernon wondered how Lady Susan knew that Frederica was improving since she'd seen no letters from that quarter. When she'd mentioned this to her husband he'd replied that not all letters coming into the house were scrutinised by them, and Bevan the butler could have delivered them straight to her ladyship. His wife doubted it, for the regular letters from Mrs Manwaring were always on the silver tray in the hall, and one from a rather affected lady who used scented notepaper. But she did recollect that Lady Susan herself went sometimes to the post office in the village. It was just possible that she picked up letters then – or that they came by private hand when she herself was unaware. She sent a great many expensive fat ones to Mrs Johnson and not quite so many came back, so perhaps these too might have arrived in the house by a different route.

Her mind reverted to Reginald. Suddenly she felt weary. ‘I'm so sorry, I feel too tired tonight. Do please excuse me.'

The men stood up and Mr Vernon attended her to the door.

‘I will join you shortly, my dear. The room has become rather stuffy – one of the candles has been sputtering while we played. It tires the eyes.'

‘It must be that,' said his wife and with a last glance at Reginald she went slowly up to her room.

Without Mrs Vernon they could not think of starting up whist again. Soon Charles Vernon excused himself. Some papers needed attending to before bedtime. Lady Susan and Reginald were left alone, only the servants coming in to stoke up the fire and bring wine, sweet biscuits and fruit when called for.

They decided to play a quiet game of piquet, neither of them much concerned with its outcome.

Lady Susan's left hand lay idly on the table. Quite suddenly Reginald put his hand over hers. He had done it involuntarily and he shocked himself.

She felt the hand's heat and intensity and left hers below just for a moment. Then she turned to him and smiled gently, looked down at her cards and removed her hand.

Well
, she thought,
he is well and truly hooked. If only this passionate hand were dear Manwaring's
. She kept her eyes down and sat quite motionless.

‘Will you ride tomorrow,' he said, his voice thick.

‘I shall be happy to, Mr de Courcy.' In the dusk her low voice was thrilling.

Reginald felt light-headed. What could be happening? His sister had mentioned more than once the difference in their years, but he could not see them. Instead in her company he simply felt older and more mature. She made him seem a man, a man in charge of himself and others.

Next morning she was waiting for him by the stables, with the groom holding the pale brown mare that Catherine Vernon had let her use during her stay at Churchill.

They mounted their horses together and cantered into the park, passing through the woodland and out into the open meadows.

As he had expected she rode well, her neat figure looking elegant sidesaddle on the light, slender horse. For her riding dress she had abandoned her customary black and grey and wore a thick gown of deep red from which protruded a clean white petticoat. Reginald
had long ago put out of his mind his old association of Lady Susan and scarlet: now deep red seemed a colour both luxurious and demure. She still wore black on her head, two black standing feathers caught round the rim by a pale pink ribbon.

Reginald found his heart beat faster. He loved riding but not usually with a woman. He'd once enjoyed racing Constantia Holland, a stout girl with whom his mother had wanted him to make a match, but when they had last met it had been in a ballroom and she was much less fun as a bored yet nervous young girl than as an honorary boy riding astride over the downs. He'd not suggested any outing with her for fear his mother and Lady Holland would start plotting. He remembered her now only as foil to the serene lady beside him.

Lady Susan and Reginald rode along the grassy track skirting the parklands until they reached an eminence from which they could see the house, its formal pleasure gardens and shrubbery spread out before them. They were both elated by the ride and, as the horses came close, they reined them in and stopped; they exchanged pleased looks.

‘It's a fine sight, so snug and secure,' remarked Lady Susan. ‘It appears the very embodiment of home.'

‘Yes it does,' replied her companion. ‘Charles is a capital manager. Such a view reminds us why we're fighting this war. I'm all for breaking down barriers between people but no French abstractions of liberty and equality can beat a gentleman in his country residence caring for his land and people.'

He wondered if he had spoken too earnestly. He was reassured when Lady Susan answered in the same strain: ‘It's always right that the strong should look after the weak, and good husbandry is a form of strength.'

They fell silent. Lady Susan gazed towards the house. She had manoeuvred herself so that her horse was on the left side of Reginald's. While she contemplated Churchill, his gaze lay firmly on her.