Authors: Stella Riley
Tags: #romance, #history, #humour, #duel, #18th century, #highwaymen, #parrot, #london 1774, #vauxhall garden
This was too
near the bone. ‘That’s not the point. Rosalind’s nothing to do with
him and he had no right to say any of the things he said!’
‘But surely
someone had to say them? Otherwise it might never have … ‘ She
stopped, belatedly recognising the lack of tact in this remark.
Philip eyed her
with smouldering resentment.
‘Otherwise it
might not have occurred to me? Is that what you were going to say?
I thank you! No doubt you’d also like to tell me that I’m stupid or
selfish – or both!’
‘Oh no,’
replied Isabel lightly. ‘I’m not so uncivil.’
Philip stared
back at her, unable to believe that he had heard aright for nothing
in his previous experience of Mistress Dacre had ever suggested her
capable of such a riposte.
And Isabel
smiled serenely back at him, a gleam of mingled amusement and
satisfaction in her dark eyes as she wondered what had become of
the oppressively polite young gentleman she had been betrothed
to.
Much of
Philip’s rage deserted him and he sat down, saying in a much more
moderate tone, ‘I beg your pardon. But I don’t like the fellow and
he’s set me all on edge.’
‘Yes. I’d
noticed that,’ she responded placidly. ‘Why don’t you like
him?’
‘Because I
watched him win three thousand guineas from your brother at a time
when he knew perfectly well that Robert was too drunk to know what
he was doing,’ said Philip. And then, ruefully, ‘Oh Lord! I suppose
I shouldn’t have told you that.’
‘Why not?’
Although Isabel had turned a little pale, she did not seem shocked.
‘Robert is always playing deeper than he should. The only thing I
can’t understand is how he managed to pay such a sum – for if he’d
asked Papa the whole house would have known about it.’
Philip coloured
a little and made a pretence of arranging the folds of lace at his
wrist.
‘Oh no.’ The
brown eyes flew suddenly wide. ‘
You
lent it to him, didn’t
you?’
‘Well, yes.’ He
looked up, rather taken aback at the flatness of her tone. ‘Did I
do wrong?’
It was Isabel’s
turn to flush. ‘Not wrong, no. It was … it was very kind of you.
But I … oh dear, I would so much rather that you had not! You will
never get it back, you know and it only encourages him. He will
come to you again and again and – I know I shouldn’t say so, but he
is quite foolishly extravagant and I know of no reason why
you
should be saddled with the cost of it.’
‘Do you not?’
asked Philip very directly.
‘No! You can’t
have supposed that I wished you to frank Robert?’
‘I didn’t
suppose it. But naturally I wondered if you did. How could I not?
He is your brother, after all.’
‘Yes. But …
th-though I’m not aware of the precise terms,’ she said haltingly,
‘I do realise that you must already have been more than generous or
Papa wouldn’t have … ‘ She tailed off uncertainly and then, making
a brave effort, met his lordship’s gaze and said simply, ‘You know
how it is with us.’
‘Yes,’ said
Philip with an almost imperceptible note of chagrin. ‘And since –
if you’ll forgive my bluntness – that is why you accepted me, I can
surely be pardoned for thinking that you expected me to assist
Robert.’
This was a bit
more than Isabel had bargained for and her composure vanished into
a confused morass of half-sentences behind which lay a foolhardy
urge to ask why – if his lordship wanted more than a complaisant
wife – he had offered for her. But that was something that even
one’s feckless Mama would not approve of and, worse, one might not
like his lordship’s reply. On the whole, reflected Isabel
miserably, it was a lot safer to say nothing, so she relapsed into
silence and stared fixedly down at her hands.
Suddenly as
embarrassed as she, Philip was regretting his impetuous words but
had no idea how he might take them back. He got to his feet saying
jerkily, ‘I’m sorry. I had no right to say that. In fact, the whole
topic is grossly improper so it’s probably just as well that I have
to go. Please present my apologies to your mama and say that I am
sorry not to have been able to deliver them in person.’
‘Yes, of
course,’ replied Isabel colourlessly, rising from her seat. ‘And
pray give my regards to your sister. Shall you bring her back with
you, do you think?’
‘I don’t know –
though it seems unlikely. It’s a preposterous scheme and I daresay
Rosalind will think so too.’
‘But you will
ask her?’
‘I suppose so,’
he agreed reluctantly. ‘Don’t tell me you think it’s a good
idea?’
‘Actually, I
do. I know that I wouldn’t like to live alone – and I can see. It
must be a lot worse for her. Perhaps you’re right and she won’t
want to come but I think she ought to be given the chance to
choose. And,’ she added deviously, ‘you wouldn’t like to think of
Lord Amberley visiting her again at Oakleigh – which he might do
since he seems to feel so strongly about it.’
His lordship’s
brow darkened again. ‘I’ll take good care that he doesn’t. If Rose
stays in the country, then she’ll have to have a chaperone. And
that,’ he concluded, ‘should settle my lord Marquis once and for
all.’
For a long time
after he had gone, Isabel remained deep in thought and even a
fitting at her mantua-maker failed to occupy more than half of her
mind. The path ahead, it seemed, was fraught with pitfalls – for
how, even if the opportunity should arise, did one explain that one
had been fortunate enough to have duty go hand in hand with
inclination? That the wealthy and eligible husband of her father’s
choice and the dashing young cavalry officer whose dark good-looks
troubled her thoughts were one and the same? There came a point,
Isabel realised pessimistically, when the chances of saying so and
being believed would be negligible. Not that one
could
say
so unless one received some small indication that such tidings
would be welcome and, until today, his lordship had behaved with a
degree of formality that was almost depressing. And, as if that
wasn’t enough, there was Robert blithely making things worse.
It was not
until late afternoon that she saw her elder brother and, before she
could so much as open her mouth, he dragged her outside to admire
his latest acquisition.
‘Well?’ he
demanded gleefully. ‘What do you think?’
Isabel surveyed
the smart racing-curricle and its pair of gleaming greys with a
sinking heart. ‘I think it looks very expensive. I also think that
you and I had better have a little chat – in my room where we can
be private.’
‘Oh don’t be
such a kill-joy!’ snapped her brother. ‘And if all you want is to
lecture me on the expense, you can save yourself the trouble.’
‘That,’
returned Isabel with unaccustomed firmness, ‘is only part of it. I
want to talk to you about the three thousand guineas you borrowed
from Lord Philip – and you can either discuss it now in my room or
tonight over the dinner-table. The choice is yours.’ And she walked
away into the house and on up the stairs.
As she had
known he would, Robert followed and, slamming the door behind him,
leaned sulkily against it and said, ‘Well? I suppose Vernon blabbed
the whole to you?’
‘He told me of
it, yes,’ she replied calmly. ‘And I’m very glad he did, for it
gave me the chance to tell him never to lend you money again.’
Robert jerked
himself upright. ‘You did
what
?’
‘I’m sorry,
Robert – but I won’t have you sponging off him. So if you were
hoping to persuade him to pay for your curricle and pair, you’ll
have to think again.’
‘Oh
will
I?’ he demanded furiously. ‘Well, let me tell you, Mistress
Interference, that I’ll have no need. It’s already paid for.’
He had ample
time, before Isabel spoke, to regret this carelessly bestowed piece
of information. Then, ‘Is it?’ she asked sharply. ‘How so?’
‘That’s no
business of yours – or of Phil Vernon’s, come to that.’
Isabel stared
at him, chaotic thoughts chasing each other through her brain.
‘Robert – you
did pay your debt to the Marquis, didn’t you?’
He flushed.
‘Ask your precious Philip. He’s seen the vowels.’
‘Oh.’ Weak with
relief but still somehow anxious, she said, ‘Then how did you pay
for the curricle?’
‘I’ve had a run
of luck,’ replied Robert just a fraction too quickly. ‘It does
happen, you know – especially when I’m not playing that devil
Amberley.’
Isabel’s brow
creased thoughtfully. She knew her brother very well indeed and
certainly well enough to know when he was lying. Also, there was a
great deal about Lord Amberley which did not seem to add up; for,
in her opinion, a man who’d put himself out to look after his
coachman or improve the lot of a lady he scarcely knew, didn’t
sound a likely candidate for fleecing drunken youths. And if he was
not, that only left one alternative that she could think of.
‘I don’t
suppose,’ she mused, half to herself, ‘that Lord Amberley likes you
well enough to return your vowels for nothing?’ And then,
sickeningly, read the answer in her brother’s face. ‘Oh God – he
did, didn’t he? And you let him. I don’t suppose you even
argued.’
‘Of course I
didn’t argue! Why should I?’ Robert knew better than to waste his
breath on fruitless denial. ‘He can afford it. And it was his idea,
not mine. He only did it because he didn’t want to feature in
society as the next best thing to an ivory-turner.’
‘In that case
he wasted his money,’ replied Isabel, quietly contemptuous. ‘Only,
of course, the truth is that he didn’t want to feature that way to
himself. If he cared for society’s opinion, he’d be making sure
people knew – but he hasn’t, has he?’ She leaned back in her chair,
hands pressed against her cheeks and gazed at him with helpless
exasperation. ‘Oh Bob – what’s the matter with you? Have you no
moral sense at all? Don’t you care that, in addition to cheating
Philip, you’re causing him to dislike a man who’s done nothing to
deserve it? And now you’ve spent the money and I can’t even tell
you to pay it back.’
‘I’m glad
you’ve worked that out,’ he retorted brazenly, ‘because I wouldn’t
anyway. And you needn’t ask me to tell Vernon the truth because I
won’t do that either. Amberley deserves everything he gets.’
She stood up
and faced him resolutely. ‘Then I must do it.’
‘No! Bella, you
can’t – what if Vernon tells someone? What if he tells
everyone
?’ He was frightened now. ‘Damn it, I’m your
brother. You can’t want to see me ruined. And you owe me some
loyalty.’
‘Perhaps. But
you don’t deserve it, do you?’
Robert crossed
the room to grasp her wrists, making sure it hurt.
‘Do you want to
see me in the Fleet? A word of this and I’ll have a pack of damned
tradesmen down on me like vultures. And what good will it do? You
know I can’t pay either Vernon or Amberley – let alone both of
them.’
Isabel looked
at him out of stark brown eyes. ‘I
have
to tell Lord Philip.
It’s my duty to do so – surely you can see that?’
‘No, I can’t.
Your duty is to your family – to me.’ He released her hands and
smiled coaxingly at her. ‘Bella, please. I’ll promise anything you
ask if only you’ll keep quiet.’
She shook her
head sadly. ‘I can’t trust you. I wish I could but I can’t.’
‘Yes, you can,’
he wheedled. ‘I’d have to keep my word, wouldn’t I? If I didn’t,
you’d tell.’
She gave a
shiver of distaste. Discovery of the full sum of his weakness and
dishonesty made her feel physically ill. There was a long pause and
then she said despairingly, ‘Oh very well. But don’t ever ask this
sort of thing of me again for my silence makes me no better than
you.’
‘I won’t.’
Grinning with relief, Robert lifted her hands to his lips only to
have them snatched away.
‘And I want you
to promise me two things,’ she went on relentlessly. ‘First, that
you will never, under any circumstances, try to borrow money from
Lord Philip again.’
He shrugged. ‘I
can’t, can I? He wouldn’t lend it.’ Then, catching her eye, ‘Oh
alright – I promise.’
‘Good. And
second, that you’ll stop making mischief for Lord Amberley. Not
just between him and Lord Philip – but generally. I want your word
that you won’t do or say anything that will add to the trouble
you’ve already caused. In fact, I want you to be as polite to him
as it’s possible for you to be. Do you understand?’
He scowled and
turned away. ‘Yes. Alright.’
‘Look at me,
Robert.’ Isabel waited until he did so. ‘Now – give me your solemn
word.’
For a second he
hesitated and then, with a fulminating glance, said grittily, ‘Very
well. I give you my word that I’ll leave Amberley to dig his own
pit. Is that good enough for you? But if you breathe a word of any
of this to a soul, I swear I’ll make you regret it!’
And with that,
he flung out of the room, slamming the door behind him and leaving
his weary sister to placate her conscience as best she could.
‘Phil – oh,
Philip!’
Rosalind cast
herself against her brother’s chest and hid her face in the folds
of his cloak, brought perilously close to tears by the surprise of
his arrival.
Faintly
surprised by this reception, Philip hugged her whilst trying to
peer down into her face. ‘Rose? Whatever’s the matter? Anyone would
think I’d been away for a year on active service.’
The dark head
moved in a gesture of negation.
‘It’s just that
I didn’t expect you,’ she explained in muffled accents. ‘And I’m so
glad you’ve come.’
Frowning
slightly, his lordship grasped her shoulders and took a step
back.
‘You’re upset
and you don’t look yourself,’ he accused. ‘What’s wrong? Is it
something to do with that fellow Amberley?’