The Phantom Lover (24 page)

Her behavior, too, became a matter of gossip and concern. She challenged Tubby Reynolds to another race, and Harry learned that bets were being laid at all the gambling clubs. She was heard to say something quite rude to the Princess Esterhazy, and although that spirited lady laughed heartily, those who overheard it were quite shocked. At the Gordon's ball, she pushed Thaddeus Wickenham into a potted palm, and although there were many who declared that he had molested her and had therefore deserved it, others murmured that she had probably encouraged his attentions in the first place. All this gossip became embarrassing to Harry, whose affianced bride was the offspring of a very respectable family, members of which were beginning to feel that Nell's antics reflected discredit upon
them
.

The day appointed for Nell's race with Tubby was fast approaching, and interest in it ran high. Although curricle races were all the rage, it was not often that a female participated in such competitions. Nell was not the only young lady who could handle the ribbons, but most of those who
could
knew that indulgence in such sport was not at all seemly for well-born, well-nurtured females. Edwina, who had found herself enduring several conversations in which Miss Belden's forthcoming adventure was the primary subject of discussion, felt impelled to speak to her betrothed about the matter. One afternoon, when they were returning from a ride, she broached the subject. “Henry, my dear,” she ventured, “I'm very much afraid that the race your Miss Belden has proposed is a matter to which you must give your attention. Mama says that if Miss Belden persists in this scandalous conduct, it cannot help but reflect badly upon
us
. Can't you stop her?”

Harry, who had been himself quite irked at Nell, felt an inexplicable resentment at Edwina's interference. Keeping his eyes on the horses he was handling, and with what had become his customary restraint, he said quietly that the matter was not his affair. “Miss Belden is not a relation of
mine
, you know,” he reminded his betrothed, “but of my aunt and uncle. She is
their
ward, and her behavior must be their concern. I would be merely interfering if I took it upon myself to offer criticism or chastizement.”

“I honor your scruples, my dear,” Edwina said, her expressive, blue eyes smiling up at him approvingly, “but you are too nice in your feelings. Remember that you are the head of the family. She
is
a member of the family, if only by adoption, and you are quite within your rights to exercise control over her.”

Harry was beginning to understand that Edwina's serene manner came from her unshakable conviction that she had only to smile into someone's eyes to get her own way. She had never in her life needed to raise her voice, to pout, or to stamp her graceful little foot in vexation. From the time she was a little girl, her regal air and eloquent eyes had made the people surrounding her her slaves. And now she looked at him with the same expectation of having her way. He was expected to be another slave in her entourage.

He could almost feel a slave collar tightening about his neck. Yet there seemed to be no way to fight back. Edwina's manner was so calm, so assured, so reasonable. She never made demands, only requests. She never insisted. How could one fight with a
paragon
? If only she would once lose her temper, once say something rash, once do something impulsive. The prospect of spending his lifetime harnessed to a pattern-card of perfection was becoming more and more galling. He whipped up the horses to vent his rising spleen and said brusquely, “I do not choose to exercise control over my family. I am not anyone's master. I find it difficult enough to master myself.”

Edwina protested with a little laugh. “Oh, Henry, really! One would think I had asked you to
horsewhip
the girl. I only want you to
speak
to her.” She placed a gloved hand gently on his arm. “After all, you cannot like
our
being sullied with such gossip.”

“How can
we
be affected by it?” Henry demanded.

“The reputation of the entire family can be affected,” Edwina insisted calmly, “when one of the members appears so often and so shockingly on everyone's tongue.”

“Balderdash!” Henry's jaw clenched and a muscle in his cheek twitched. In a kind of last-ditch rebellion, he said irritably, “Your family's reputation is not on such flimsy ground that a distant association with a headstrong girl will cause it to collapse. And as for
my
reputation, I don't care a jot what the damned prattle-boxes say of me!”

Miss Manning, not being a fool, did not fail to observe his irritation and wisely let the matter drop. She had little liking for Miss Belden and the rest of Lord Thorne's rackety family, but
he
was a rich prize. She would not let him slip through her fingers for so little cause. So she folded her hands in her lap and remained silent.

Harry, however, could not shake off his irritation so easily. Having been prevented from venting it on Edwina by her unshakable ability to avoid quarrels, his ire found another target—Nell herself. The irksome girl was behaving in an exasperating, provoking, vexatious manner, and he had an irresistible urge to wring her neck. He stormed into the house intent on carrying out the urge, but learned from Beckwith that she was out and not expected back until late. Even the fact that she had been escorted by his own friend, Sir Roderick, did little to ease his frustration. Fortunately, Lady Sybil was at home. There, at least, was
someone
on whom he could vent his spleen.

Poor Lady Sybil had to endure a most difficult half-hour. Lord Thorne told her without roundaboutation what he thought of her manners, her morals, her taste, her finances and her ability to raise a daughter. He informed her that he would hold her personally responsible if Nell so much as
left the house
on the day of the race, and that, if Nell
did
participate in so inappropriate and vulgar an activity, he would see to it that they
both
were confined to their rooms for a month! With that, he marched awkwardly out of the room and locked himself in the library for the rest of the day.

On her return, Nell found Sybil waiting for her in her bedroom. Sybil had dismissed Gwinnys and was pacing nervously between the fireplace and the window when Nell entered. The girl took one look at her godmother and knew something was amiss. “Heavens, Sybil, what's wrong? You look ghastly!”

“And well I might,” Sybil snapped. “You've gone too far, you ninny. Lord Thorne is furious with you!”

“Why?” asked Nell in surprise. “What have I done?”

“What have you
done
?” Sybil repeated furiously. “Surely you must be aware of what you've done. You've been behaving like a veritable hoyden. You have all of London gossiping about you. Your clothes, your flirtations, your wild races—”

“What has all this to do with Lord Thorne?” Nell cut in coldly.

“It has a great deal to do with him. We are his
family
!”

“
You
may be his family. I am not,” Nell declared with icy dignity.

“That is nothing but a sophistry. I do not care to quibble over mere terminology. Whether you consider yourself part of his family or not, the fact remains that you live on his largesse,” Sybil stated bluntly.

Nell whitened. “What do you mean? It is you and Charles who are my guardians! You don't mean—”

“That, too, is a mere quibble. If Charles and I live on his indulgence, and you live on
ours
, it is all the same in the end, is it not? Besides, we haven't paid
your
bills since your return from Cornwall. We pass them on directly to the Earl's man of business who has set up a separate account for you. Henry ordered the arrangement.”

“I see,” Nell said, stunned. “Of course. I don't know why I didn't think of this before.” She sank onto her bed and stared across the room at her godmother. “What does he want me to do?”

“The answer should be obvious to you. He wishes you to cancel the race with Tubby Reynolds, of course.”

“What nonsense,” Nell muttered. “Why should he kick up a dust over so silly a matter? What difference can my racing make to
him
?”

“Do you think a man of his consequence enjoys having a member of his household engage in so indiscreet a display?”

“Indiscreet?” She put her hand to her forehead, for her head was whirling in confusion. “But why? It's only to be a short dash through the park in the early morning when most of London is still abed.”

“Half of London plans to
be
there, you goose! The affair is talked of everywhere. Everyone knows you to be wild and flirtatious. Do you think that Henry can abide having someone in his own family who behaves in so vulgar and wanton a fashion?”

Nell's eyes widened in dismay. “
Vulgar and wanton
? He couldn't think—! Did
he
say that?” she asked, a tremor in her voice.

“His very words,” Sybil answered unfeelingly.

Nell shuddered, closing her eyes in pain. There was a long silence. White-lipped, Nell sat at the foot of her bed staring at the fingers clenched in her lap. After a while, she looked up at her aunt with unseeing eyes. “Go to bed, Sybil,” she said flatly. “You need have no further concern for my behavior. I shall not race Tubby.”

Sybil sighed and hurried to Nell's side, kissing her cheek in relief. “That's my good girl,” she murmured. “I
knew
you would be reasonable. Now, if you can only avoid getting into any other scrapes, we shall all be easy again.”

Nell sat unmoving long after Sybil had gone. The clock striking midnight seemed to rouse her. Moving like a somnambulist, she went out of her room and down the hall to Lord Thorne's bedroom. Heedless of the hour, she knocked at his door.

“Come in, Beckwith,” he said.

She opened the door and went in. The room was dark, lit only by the glowing embers of the fire dying in the grate and the moonlight spilling in through the uncurtained window. Harry, wearing a long dressing gown, had evidently been unable to sleep and had been gazing out of the window. He turned at the sound of the knock and stood leaning against the window-frame, peering into the shadows at the doorway.

“It is not Beckwith,” Nell said in a low, rigidly controlled voice.

“Nell?” Harry asked, puzzled. “What is it?”

“I have something to say to you.”

“This is a strange hour and a strange place to hold a conversation. Should you not wait until morning?”

“I want to tell you now.”

“Very well.” He reached for his crutch, which had been propped against the wall near him, and swung across the room to his nightstand, where he struck a match and lit a candle. He held it up and looked across the room at her. “Please sit down,” he said politely, motioning her to an easy chair near the fire.

“No, thank you. This won't take long.” Irrelevantly, she added, “You are using your crutch, I see.”

“Yes,” he said wryly, “but only in the privacy of my room.”

Nell nodded but said nothing. Harry crossed the room with the candle and was able to see her more clearly. He noted that her lips were pale and her eyes glittered with some suppressed emotion. “What is it, Nell?” he asked in some anxiety, setting the candle on the mantelpiece.

“I've come to tell you that I shall obey your wishes and cancel the curricle race—”

“I'm glad of that,” he said, eyeing her uneasily. “You'll be glad, too, when you've had time to reflect on it calmly.”

“I shall never be glad,” she said coldly. “I am merely obeying the commands of the man who provides for my support. I can in good conscience do no less.”

“What?” Harry asked in bewilderment. “I don't understand you. What on earth is this all about?”

“It is quite plain. I reside here and take my meals under your roof and buy my frippery clothing and everything else I need all at your expense. I did not think about it before, but—”

“You needn't think about it now,” he told her shortly. “It has nothing to do with—”

“It has
everything
to do with it! The man who pays the piper calls the tune—is that not how the old expression is worded?”

“Nell, you become offensive! I never gave a
thought
to such matters!”

“Of course I become offensive. It is to be
expected
of such a vulgar, wanton creature as I!”

“Nell!” he cried, appalled.

“Why are you so astounded? That is how you yourself described me, is it not?”

“You're mad! I
never
—!”

“You said I was wild, flirtatious, vulgar and wanton. I have it on excellent authority.”

He grasped her shoulders and shook her furiously. “
Stop it!
You're behaving like a fool!” His crutch toppled unheeded to the floor. With his hands grasping her shoulders, they glared at each other angrily until two tears rolled down Nell's cheeks and her whole body began to tremble. With a groan, he pulled her into his arms. She clung to him, sobbing uncontrollably. With his lips against her hair, he murmured brokenly, “Oh, Nell, surely you know—! If only I could tell you—!”

When her sobs had subsided, he tried to let her go, but for an unwitting moment, she hung on to him desperately. Then, with a gasp of shame, she withdrew her arms from around him. He knelt awkwardly, picked up his crutch and swung himself back to the window, turning to stare out at the moonlit roofs below. She watched silently as he stood framed in the window, silhouetted in silver. Then she walked softly to the door. “It's quite clear that I must find a way to leave this house,” she said dully.

His silence signified his reluctant agreement.

She nodded unseen. “That's what I came to tell you. I've decided to marry Nigel after all.”