Valentine's Day (3 page)

“Since I, dear Mrs. Jessington, have no rich relations, I can only take your word for it.”

Anna Jessington wasn’t at all abashed at the rebuke. It was a constant irritant to her that Eliza Mountjoy, born plain Eliza Harvill of no particular breeding, a mere country squire’s daughter with a trivial fortune of a thousand pounds, had managed to capture the heart and hand of Lord Mountjoy. Apart from the fact that he was a shocking rake who was bound to make any wife miserable, Mountjoy was considered a most eligible bachelor. Now, as she looked out of the wide window and across the extensive and well-kept grounds, Mrs. Jessington resented anew the fact that Eliza Mountjoy was chatelaine of the historic and beautiful Mountjoy Castle.

“Well,” Mrs. Jessington went on once the servants had brought in refreshments and withdrawn, “I am sure you will have heard recently from Mountjoy, because of course the whole world is all agog to know who is the young woman who has taken up residence at Mountjoy House.”

Eliza Mountjoy strove to wipe any display of emotion from her countenance at this startling news, delivered with a sharp look and a note of venom in her guest’s voice.

“Has a young woman taken up residence at our house in London?”

“Ah, so you have not heard the news? It should have been obvious to me that you had not heard from Mountjoy or someone else, otherwise you would not be so calm. Were I in your shoes, I would have posted directly to London to turn the hussy out. It is outrageous that a man in Mountjoy’s position should behave in this way, but I suppose it is only to be expected.”

Lady Mountjoy said, “My dear Mrs. Jessington, you must not abuse my husband to my face, you know.”

“It is all over town that the reason Mountjoy is in London and you stay here at the castle is because there is some estrangement between you.”

“Mountjoy went ahead of me to London to attend to business. There is a bill coming before Parliament with which he is closely concerned. I shall spend the season in London, as I generally do, and intend to travel up to town within the next week or so.”

“I always say that it is very unwise for a woman to leave a husband to his own devices.”

“Yet you yourself have left Mr. Jessington to the temptations of town while you travel to Harrogate.”

“Oh, in my case, it is completely different. Never was a man so faithful and uxorious as Jessington; I have no fears on that count.”

Eliza Mountjoy silently agreed, for Jessington was a man who held no appeal to the gentler sex except for his extraordinary wealth and a certain position. He had little personal physical presence; he was not a good sportsman, nor a wit, nor possessed of any great intellectual facilities. So, however much she must restrain her wish to snap at Mrs. Jessington, Lady Mountjoy could take solace in the fact that her guest must endure the day-in, day-out purgatory of life with such a husband.

Eliza also knew that although Mrs. Jessington’s family had been delighted at the match, a good one in the eyes of the world, they nonetheless had their doubts about whether it would prosper in the long run. Anna Jessington was a woman of strong passions, while Arthur Jessington was something of a prude and almost Presbyterian in his moral code. Only his stupidity had prevented him from noticing his wife’s adulterous escapades.

Eliza silently rebuked herself: it was not for her to pass judgment on her fellow human beings. But what was Mountjoy up to? It was inconceivable that he would have brought a mistress of whatever age and attractiveness into his house; it would be such a dishonourable thing to do. But it was a mystery, and one which must be solved.

Which it quickly was. Almost as soon as Mrs. Jessington had gone to her chamber to wash off the dust from her journey, a servant came to tell Eliza that there was an express come from London. She swiftly scanned Mountjoy’s letter, penned in his strong, unmistakable hand. So much for rumours and gossip. It might be enjoyable to have a young lady to introduce for the season, and she hoped that Miss Welburn wouldn’t turn out to be a pale, characterless girl with failed seasons in India behind her, desperate to find a husband—any husband.

She rang for the butler and told him that she would leave for London the following day, then greeted Mrs. Jessington again with a pleasant smile and a flow of apologies that she would be unable to entertain her for more than a single night. “Mountjoy has summoned me to London to take care of his goddaughter, Miss Valentine Welburn, and so I must go at once.”

“Valentine,” said Mrs. Jessington in a discontented voice. “What an extraordinary name, and how odd that you should not have been aware that she was to pay you a visit.”

“Miss Welburn is recently arrived from India, and it is never possible to know exactly when any vessel may come in from such distant parts,” said Eliza, not wanting to let Mrs. Jessington suspect that she herself had not, until just now, been aware that any such creature existed.

Chapter Six

L
ord Mountjoy was delighted to see his wife when she arrived in London. He was still surprised, even after ten years of marriage, at how much he missed her when they weren’t together, but this time he felt extra relief at the sound of her arrival. He went into the hall as soon as he heard the carriage pull up, and as she came swiftly into the house, he stepped forward to gather her into his embrace. She laughed and smiled at him. “Yes, I am glad to be here, my lord, and no, I am not tired from the journey. Pray, where is Miss Welburn? I long to make her acquaintance.”

Valentine had been told by her father that Lord Mountjoy was said to have married a very lovely woman, but nothing had prepared her for Eliza Mountjoy’s extraordinary beauty. It was a beauty that came not merely from a perfection of feature, but also from her fine eyes and a face alive with humour and vitality. Valentine knew herself to be handsome enough, but she felt few women could hold a candle to Eliza Mountjoy.

She wondered whether Lady Mountjoy was vain, whether her appearance mattered a great deal to her, or whether she would be one of those unusual and fortunate women who, as she aged, felt no regret for her fading looks. Although when so much beauty resided in bones and lovely eyes and smile—combined, Valentine suspected, with a good deal of charm—it seemed likely that Eliza Mountjoy would turn heads at any age.

Now she came forward with a little cry of pleasure, clasped Valentine’s hands warmly in hers, looked into her eyes, and then impulsively leaned forward to give her a kiss. “I am so happy to see you, Valentine. You are the reason for my early return to London; you must know that Mountjoy sent a cry for help. And I can see why: that gown you have on is a disgrace. I do hope that Mountjoy has not allowed you out into company. You must not appear anywhere until we have dressed you properly.”

With Eliza Mountjoy’s presence, the house took on new life, a sense of expectation and feminine energy. In no time at all, she had swept Valentine up to her bedchamber to inspect her clothes while footmen were dispatched to summon dressmakers and milliners and a hairdresser. “And, dear Valentine, what about dancing? Can you dance?”

At that, Valentine threw Eliza a wicked look, tossed off her shoes, and with a curved hand held out from her waist, began to sing a strange tune as she moved her head gracefully from side to side, stamping her feet on the floor, heel to toe.

“Good gracious, I did not mean that. Wherever did you learn to dance in such a way?”

“It is how they dance in India. I was taught the art by a famous dancer, but I am a mere novice, I assure you.”

“I daresay it is very pretty when danced by Indian women, but I cannot believe you danced like that in Government House.”

“No, indeed. I can prance through minuets and quadrilles in a perfectly correct manner.”

“Well, I beg you will not give a demonstration of the Indian style of dancing, at least not in company. You will have to guard your tongue and your manners, for if you gain a reputation for eccentricity, you will find that society cold-shoulders you. No, do not glare at me like that; it is the way of the world, and you are a sensible, intelligent young woman. You will not want to languish away your evenings at home because no one invites you to their parties and you are refused entry to Almack’s. It is a word of warning, that is all. Your arrival has already set the town’s tongues wagging; we must be careful you do not alarm the
ton
.”

Valentine looked at her in surprise. “I have hardly set foot out of the house; I don’t see how I can have done any such thing.”

“My dear, by simply being here in the house with Mountjoy. His reputation is such that the presence of an unknown female in his house is enough to start the wildest gossip. No, don’t frown, there is no point in pretending it is not so. You will soon learn not to pay any heed to the gossip and scandal that will come to your ears, and I am sure that you will tell me it is not so very different in India.”

Valentine said, “Certainly not. My own father had a reputation for being very wild in his younger days, and—” She stopped. “In any event, I am very grateful to you, ma’am, for taking me in, and I hope my unexpected arrival has caused no lasting damage to Lord Mountjoy’s reputation or caused you any inconvenience.”

Eliza said dryly, “Have no fears on that score. There is nothing that can be said about my husband that has not been said a thousand times, and I take no notice of malicious words. Now, let me see what you have brought with you from India.” She exclaimed over Valentine’s beautiful silks and muslins and cottons and complimented her on her taste.

“You will be elegant indeed, and once your hair is cut and dressed and not long and tangled like a gypsy’s, we shall have a stream of suitors knocking on our door. I trust you have not left your heart behind in India?”

Valentine, thinking of a past amorous interlude with a dashing army captain that had nearly taken her over the brink into danger, looked thoughtful but said she hadn’t. “I know Papa hopes I will find a husband, but I do not see why I should have to marry if I don’t want to.” She looked sideways at Eliza Mountjoy to see how she would take this. It alarmed her, given her close and easy relationship with her father, that she would have to submit to a future husband’s authority in a way that she suspected she would find difficult.

“It is hard for a young lady brought up as I believe you have been, with a certain degree of freedom, to accept what some people call the shackles of matrimony, but the bonds are not so very tight if the husband one chooses is a man that one can respect and admire as well as love. But you are not to be thinking that you need to rush into marriage. I know you will hear from other young ladies doing the season that it is somehow shocking not to have found a husband even at sixteen or seventeen, and that at nineteen or twenty you are on the shelf, but that is complete nonsense. It is better that a young woman marry when she has sufficient knowledge of herself and the world to make a wise choice. I myself was five-and-twenty when I met Mountjoy, and certainly the romantic fancies I had when I was seventeen or eighteen in no way corresponded to the reality of life.”

Valentine pulled a face, and Eliza laughed. “Now, do you have any jewellery?”

Mountjoy had not been able to answer Eliza’s query about Valentine’s fortune. “I am in daily expectation of a letter from Philip. He must have written to me; he would not have sent his daughter off without doing so. He will doubtless explain why he is sending her home this year, and also what she may expect as a dowry. Although he was a younger son, sent to India more to get rid of him than in any hope he would prosper, he has done so. His wife was of good family, with only a modest fortune, but that doesn’t signify. He is extremely rich, as I told you, quite a nabob, and I daresay she will have a considerable portion.”

So when Valentine replied, “Yes, I do,” and proceeded to unroll a long felt package, Eliza expected nothing more than trinkets that might have belonged to her mother, perhaps some pearls. She was amazed when Valentine shook the contents of the roll on to a table, diving down to pick up some stones that fell to the floor.

“Good heavens, these are worth a prince’s ransom,” Eliza exclaimed, dazzled by the collection of diamonds, rubies, emeralds, and sapphires spread out before her.

“Some of these were my mother’s, which Papa gave her, and the rest he bought over the years; he has an eye for fine stones.”

“They are beautiful, indeed.”

“He gave me pearls every year, so I have a pearl necklace, do you see, and earrings and a bracelet to match. Papa did say that I would not be able to wear most of the jewels at my age, and told me to hand them over to Lord Mountjoy for safekeeping.”

“They must be put in the strong room at once after an inventory has been made—or do you have one? No? Well then, Mr. Halton, an admirable young man who is Mountjoy’s secretary, will attend to that for you. Meanwhile, you may wear the pearls and perhaps one or two of the smaller diamond necklaces and earrings. Don’t look dismayed; I have an idea that you are a rich young lady, so you will need to take care not to display your wealth ostentatiously. That would not be at all the thing.” She paused. “Do you know what your fortune will be?”

“A hundred thousand pounds.”

Eliza blinked. “You are an heiress indeed.”

She was dismayed; once that became known, every fortune hunter in London would be courting Valentine.

Now it was Valentine’s turn to smile. “I know exactly what you are thinking, but set your mind at rest. I am well used to fortune hunters, and I am not so easily taken in by men eager for a wealthy wife, I assure you.”