‘Vastly pretty,’ Deborah said, smiling, ‘and very old. It is the dower house for Kestrel Court, you know, Miss Odell. Lady Sally and her husband named it Saltires when the Duke leased it to them on their marriage. Justin Kestrel and Stephen Saltire were the greatest of friends, you know.’
Rachel had wondered how Lady Sally Saltire came to be living so close to Kestrel Court, for the tall, twisted chimneys of the larger house could just be seen beyond the trees of the deer park.
‘One would have thought it unconscionably awkward,’
Deborah continued, ‘for the Duke and Lord Stephen were both suitors for Lady Sally’s hand in marriage. When she chose Lord Stephen it was rumoured that there would be a duel for her hand!’ Deborah’s eyes sparkled. ‘How romantic is that?’
‘Not very,’ Olivia said crushingly. ‘The whole story was only a hum—Justin Kestrel would scarce have offered his old friend a home afterwards if they had fallen out over a lady, would he?’
Deborah’s face fell. ‘I suppose not.’
‘The Duke and Lady Sally have not rekindled their romance since her widowhood?’ Rachel ventured, hoping that Olivia would not think her prying. ‘If not, that might suggest there was no truth in the tale.’
‘No, they have not,’ Deborah said. She looked dissatisfied. ‘I do not believe they see each other very often, for Justin Kestrel travels a great deal and Lady Sally is for the main part settled in London. Oh, it was such a romantic story and now the two of you have utterly deflated it—and me into the bargain!’
Olivia laughed. ‘Romance, my dear Deborah, is a sadly overrated commodity,’ she said, unconsciously echoing Rachel’s comments to Cory earlier. ‘Far better to aim for a comfortable match and a settled life.’
Rachel smiled. ‘I had heard that Lady Sally was once a prodigiously famous beauty. Has she never wished to remarry?’
‘No.’ It was Olivia who answered. ‘With wealth and position and good society, why should she need to marry?’
‘Well,’ Deborah began, ‘she might need a man to—’
‘Deb!’
Olivia shot her sister a warning look, which Rachel intercepted. She almost laughed. It seemed that Olivia had been worried that her sister would make some unguarded remark about a woman’s need for male companionship. Such a comment was scarcely proper in front of a young
unmarried lady, but Rachel wryly suspected that she would be unlikely to be shocked. It was Lady Marney and Mrs Stratton who would no doubt be horrified if only they knew the education that Rachel had been subject to from an early age. It did not matter that the frescoes and sculptures of bacchanalian pleasures and erotic excess had been unearthed by her parents and were supposedly classical; they were still explicit and shocking and had left the young Rachel Odell in open-mouthed wonder. She could remember clearly the day that Cory Newlyn had come across her almost standing on her head in an attempt to work out whether a certain position indulged in by two figures in a fresco was physically possible…
Still, it was better to allow Lady Marney her illusions, Rachel thought. She was enough of a curiosity as it was, without shocking the ladies further, and she knew her unorthodox upbringing would give some people a disgust. It was a great pity, when all she had ever wished for was to lead an ordinary life. She smiled gently and said nothing.
‘I suppose it is too late for Lady Sally now,’ Deborah said with a sigh, ‘for she must be all of three and thirty if she is a day. Far too old to be contemplating remarriage!’
The gig drew up outside the main door and a liveried footman immediately appeared to help the ladies descend. Tucking her copy of
The Enchantress,
which she had borrowed from Lady Sally’s extensive library, under her arm, Rachel followed Olivia and Deborah inside.
The reading group was a very select affair. Only six of them sat around the polished walnut table in Lady Sally Saltire’s library. In addition to Deborah Stratton and Olivia Marney there was Lady Sally herself, Helena Lang, the vicar’s daughter, and Lily Benedict, a dark beauty married to a gentleman who lived retired.
‘Well, my dears,’ Lady Sally said when they had all discussed the first couple of chapters of
The Enchantress,
‘we
all suspect that Sir Philip Desormeaux will get more than he bargained for from his advertisement, but then any gentleman who
advertises
for a wife deserves to be put in his place…’
She smiled at them all conspiratorially and it felt to Rachel as though she was drawing them all into the warmth by the sheer force of her personality. From the top of her elegant head to the tips of her kid slippers, Lady Sally Saltire exuded the sort of style that left Rachel in open-mouthed envy. Lady Sally was sleek, elegant and effortlessly modish. Nor was it simply a matter of dress. Rachel reflected that Olivia Marney, for example, was fashionable but rather lifeless. Sally was vivacious, with all the style conferred through being a rich and supremely elegant society widow.
‘I always think that a man who needs to advertise for a wife must have something seriously wrong with him,’ Helena Lang said. Her tone suggested that she would never give such a poor-spirited fellow the time of day. ‘After all, there are plenty of dreadful men who still manage to attach a wife without having to resort to the newspapers, so how bad would one need to be to advertise? It is quite shocking when one comes to think of it.’
There was general laughter at this.
‘It is true that appalling men can marry quite easily if they are rich and titled,’ Lily Benedict agreed. ‘One sees it all the time.’
Lady Sally rang the bell for the servant. ‘More refreshments, ladies? I have another project that I wish to discuss with you all before you leave.’
Two footmen brought in trays laden with cake, tea and lemonade. Rachel accepted a glass of the latter for the day was very warm and it was quite stuffy in Lady Sally’s library. Though the casement windows were open to allow in a thread of breeze, the low, plaster ceilings seemed to trap the heat.
‘Lady Sally is well known for her charitable projects,’
Deborah Stratton whispered in Rachel’s ear. ‘Last summer she sponsored a race on the river and all the fashionable crowd came down from London to attend. It was the most exciting occasion! We seldom see such society in Midwinter.’
‘So, ladies…’ Lady Sally said, when the footmen had retired, ‘I wished to share the plans for my new project with you—and to ask for your help.’
Five pairs of eyes rounded with speculation.
‘I would like,’ Lady Sally continued, ‘to raise some funds for one of my benevolent societies. I thought that a little project might distract everyone rather pleasantly from rumours of this annoying invasion, so…’ she smiled with a hint of wickedness ‘…I thought that it might be rather fun to produce a watercolour book.’
A little sigh rippled around the group. A book sounded nowhere near as exciting as last year’s regatta had been.
‘Do you mean a book with watercolour drawings, Sally?’ Lily Benedict enquired. ‘That seems a little tame compared with your usual projects.’
‘Local views would look attractive in watercolours,’ Olivia Marney suggested. ‘The river, the watermill…’
‘I did indeed have local attractions in mind,’ Lady Sally said, stretching out a languid hand to pour herself another cup of tea, ‘but nothing so tame as the river, Olivia. I had in mind pictures of local
gentlemen.
’
Olivia almost choked on her tea and had to be patted on the back by her sister. Helena Lang, a buxom beauty given to vulgarity, gave vent to a thoroughly over-excited scream.
‘Portraits of gentlemen in a book? Lady Sally, you are so
wicked!
’
‘I know,’ Lady Sally said calmly. ‘Conceive of the potential profit to my charity, ladies. A few drawings of eligible gentlemen, with a little bit of text giving some essential information about them—’
‘Such as whether they are married and the size of their
estate,’ Deborah Stratton suggested. She laughed. ‘It will be like a gazetteer!’
‘Precisely.’ Lady Sally nodded. ‘I had it in mind to host a ball in town during the little season and hold an auction. The ladies would be queuing out of the door to place a bid on a book that gives details of the most eligible gentlemen on the marriage mart! I am persuaded it would be all the rage, particularly if the gentlemen in the drawings were to attend as well.’
Lily Benedict was laughing. ‘It’s an outrageous idea, Sally! No one but you could get away with it.’
‘Which gentlemen will be featured?’ Helena Lang enquired, putting the question that everyone else was too reticent to ask.
Lady Sally ticked them off on her fingers. ‘Sir John Norton has already agreed to pose for me, as has Lord Northcote—’
‘But he is married already,’ Helena protested, pouting, ‘and Sir John Norton is a dreadful bore. You must have some more attractive gentlemen, Lady Sally. Positively you must!’
‘It would certainly make the watercolour book more popular,’ Lady Sally agreed. ‘Now that Justin Kestrel and his brothers are here for the summer, I intend to persuade them to take part…’ she gave a little smile ‘…and then I do believe we shall be overwhelmed with eager purchasers!’
Rachel, who had been listening quietly, saw Deborah Stratton look quickly away and fidget slightly with the cover of her copy of
The Enchantress.
Her colour had risen at the mention of Justin Kestrel and his brothers and Rachel could not help wondering which Kestrel brother it was that could cause such a reaction. Fortunately Helena Lang distracted everyone’s attention before Deborah’s discomfiture became too evident.
‘However will you convince the
Duke
to pose, Lady
Sally? I heard tell that he is very high in the instep, for all that he is a thorough-going rake!’
‘I shall use my native charm, Miss Lang,’ Lady Sally said. ‘And if I fail, I shall ask one of you to approach him instead. Justin is very susceptible to a lady’s persuasion, I assure you. In fact, that is where I need your help.’
The ladies looked enquiring.
‘I need you to work your charms on all the gentlemen visiting Midwinter,’ Lady Sally said, smiling. ‘A little flirtation can work miracles, ladies! If you can persuade the Duke and his friends to take part in my book of watercolour drawings, then I shall be able to establish another school for the ragged children in Ipswich. No one can deny that it is for a good cause.’
‘You are still a few gentlemen short,’ Deborah observed. She appeared to have regained her composure. ‘Did you have any others in mind?’
Lady Sally smiled at Olivia, who had remained quiet throughout most of the discussion, as she often did.
‘I had thought that Lord Marney might be persuaded to take part,’ Lady Sally said. ‘I wondered if you might speak to him, dear Olivia.’
Olivia Marney’s head jerked up and bright colour came into her cheeks.
‘My husband pays no attention to my requests,’ she said sharply. She brushed the biscuit crumbs from her skirt with sharp little movements. ‘You would have better success were you to ask him yourself, Lady Sally!’
The atmosphere in the room was suddenly tense. Rachel had no notion why matters should be so awkward, but she could not miss the significant glance that Lady Sally shot Lady Benedict. The only person who appeared unaware of her sister’s tension was Deborah Stratton.
‘
I
will ask Ross if he will take part, Liv!’ she said cheerfully. ‘I am sure he will agree.’
‘Oh, well, if
you
ask him, Deborah, I am sure that there
will be no difficulty at all!’ Olivia Marney said, and the bitterness was suddenly clear in her voice, so marked that even Deborah fell silent.
There was another awkward pause.
Lady Sally threw herself into the breach. ‘How splendid,’ she said, quite as though there had been no undercurrent to Olivia’s words. ‘And if I might prevail upon you, Miss Odell, to speak to Lord Newlyn, then I think we might rightly be proud of the collection of truly distinguished gentlemen who will grace my watercolour book.’
Rachel jumped. She had just been reflecting that Cory would detest being part of a project such as this when she realised that Lady Sally was addressing her. Rachel felt the eyes of the group fixed on her. Helena Lang was looking rather envious all of a sudden.
‘I doubt I have any influence with Lord Newlyn,’ Rachel said. ‘It is true that I have known him for years, but I would not say that he was a very persuadable gentleman.’
Lady Sally’s eyes widened with amusement. ‘Oh, do you think not?’ she said. ‘A great pity, for he is quite the most charismatic man of my acquaintance.’ She smiled gently at Rachel. ‘Would he not be susceptible to a little flirtation, Miss Odell?’
‘Not if I was the one doing the flirting with him,’ Rachel said, laughing at the very idea. ‘I believe he would ask me if I had had too much sun!’
Everyone laughed, although Lady Sally looked pensive. ‘It seems a pity,’ she said. ‘Lord Newlyn would look vastly attractive in watercolours.’
‘He would look vastly attractive in anything,’ Lily Benedict added drily, ‘or nothing.’
Rachel bit her lip and concentrated very hard on not thinking about Cory wearing nothing at all. She had only just managed to banish the image and here it was back with a vengeance. She fanned herself surreptitiously with her book.
‘Oh, please try to persuade him, Miss Odell,’ Helena Lang interposed. ‘Lord Newlyn would be the most perfect choice. He is so dashing.’
Rachel looked at the pleading faces. Her strongest impulse was to refuse. The thought of asking Cory to grace Lady Sally’s watercolour book was an excruciating one.
‘I really do not think—’ she began.
Lady Sally put out a consoling hand. ‘Please do not worry. I would not wish you to feel obliged to approach Lord Newlyn, Miss Odell, not if it would embarrass you. Perhaps one of the other ladies could exert a little charm to persuade him.’
‘I am sure that we shall be drawing lots for the privilege,’ Lily Benedict said.
Rachel frowned. The idea of another lady flirting with Cory made her feel rather possessive, although she knew this was entirely inappropriate. She looked at Lily Benedict’s face, with the slanting dark eyes that held a flicker of malice, and decided that she did not like her very much nor would she give her the chance to flirt with Cory. The same went for that vulgar Miss Lang.