Tess told Henshaw the story. “What is this scheme of attaching Revel for Dulcie, Tess? I hoped you and
he ...”
“He is totally unsuitable for either of us, Henshaw,”
Tess said, and gave some details of the matter. “It is unconscionable of Mama to throw Dulcie at his head.”
“What makes you think he was only using you to make Mrs. Gardener jealous?”
“Mama said—”
Tess stopped and frowned.
Henshaw just looked. She never voiced any disparagement of her mistress, but her look spoke volumes. “Perhaps she was mistaken,”
she said discreetly, “Revel has not such a bad reputation as that. Those dashing fellows often make the best husbands. Better to sow their wild oats before marriage.”
“He is like Papa. He has plenty of wild oats to last after marriage.”
“I always thought a sensible lady could manage him,”
Henshaw said. Then she left to get the brandy and to lay out the mauve suit with the lace fichu.
Belowstairs Dulcie was testing her mettle on Revel. She had no real interest in him, but she was practicing to be an Incomparable, and this was her first real opportunity to hone her skills.
“Your arrival is all that saved us from utter disgrace, Lord Revel,”
she said, making big eyes at him.
Revel swallowed his amusement and replied, “All in a day’s work for a corsair. I wonder what is keeping Tess.”
“She is probably reading. She reads a great deal. What are we to do about Papa?”
“Time is the best healer.”
She was disappointed in him. A corsair should not speak of time healing. That was
his
job. “My life is in ruins,”
she said, staring bleakly into the grate. “I shall
never
get to London. I shall probably marry the groom, and end up a hag with a dozen children.”
“Not you, Dulcie!”
He smiled. “Marchant will come home, dragging his tail behind him.”
“Not while Esmée holds him in her thrall.”
She cast a sapient look on Revel. “If only some other gentleman would divert her for a spell ...”
she said. “He would have to be top of the trees. A lord, handsome, rich.”
Revel was not slow to grasp her meaning. “Esmée wants a husband, not a wealthy patron. I ought not to discuss such things with you, but as you presented the idea ... Or did you mean that I should marry her?”
“Oh, no! You must not
marry
her. I wonder, though, since she accepted the diamond bracelet from Papa, if she would not accept a carte blanche from you, now that she is getting so old.”
“She is only twenty-seven.”
“Only?
But that is ancient!”
“Three years younger than my ancient self,”
he pointed out.
“That’s different. You are a man.”
“What can be keeping Tess?”
he asked again.
“Why do you keep harping on Tess?”
Dulcie pouted. “Are you in love with her?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I merely want to discuss what should be done.”
“We
are
discussing it.”
“Is that what we’re doing, minx? I rather thought you were sharpening your claws on me, in preparation for your coming Season.”
“I shall never have a Season if you don’t do something about this mess, Lord Revel.”
He glanced impatiently at his watch. It occurred to Revel that he should warn Cousin James of the gathering storm at Bartlett Street. James would want to distance himself from it all, or he might find himself involved in a duel. He also wanted to hear an intelligent account of what had happened after the rout last night.
He knew the Marchant ladies, with the exception of Tess, were given to melodrama. Ten minutes, and still she had not come. He concluded she was putting her mama to bed. Mrs. Marchant’s hysterics might take an hour. He would go to see James and return after lunch.
“Tell Tess
—
”
“You are not leaving?”
Dulcie exclaimed.
“I must go. Fear not, fair Dulcinea. I will not forsake you in your hour of need.”
He swept a playful bow and left.
When Tess returned a moment later, she did not know whether to be relieved or angry that he had left, but she knew she was disappointed. At least Dulcie had not ensnared him—although she was looking strangely smug.
“Where has Revel gone?”
she asked.
“He didn’t say, but you must not think he has deserted us, Tess. Before leaving, he said, ‘Fear not, fair Dulcinea, I will not forsake you in your hour of need.’
Was that not romantic?”
“Very romantic, but not very helpful,”
Tess retorted, and went to gather the mail. Northbay still had to be run, and this was not the moment to show Mama a lesson.
Fair Dulcinea indeed! Revel had never complimented
her.
As Lord James Drake did not often receive a visit from his nephew, he was curious to learn what had brought Revel that morning.
“I would like an unembellished account of just what occurred last night at Bartlett Street, James,”
Revel said, accepting the glass of wine that was handed to him.
“High dramatics, my lad.”
Lord James laughed. “Were it not for my quick wits, that ass of a Marchant would have called me out.”
“Was it really that bad? I made sure the ladies were exaggerating, as ladies are inclined to do.”
“It was no exaggeration,”
Lord James replied, and gave a brief account of the interlude. “I shouldn’t have minded knocking some sense into the old bleater, but then it would not do to strain relations with my future papa-in-law.”
Revel smiled satirically at this notion. “I doubt you will make much headway in that direction. I shall save you the embarrassment of a refusal, and tell you quite frankly Tess is not interested.”
“She could do worse,”
Lord James said, observing his nephew with a wary eye. “Tess would be Lady James. I take leave to tell you that impresses the mama, at least. Surprising how folks do like the title, even if
it is only an honorary one. Of course from a worldly point of view, Miss Marchant could do better. Does she have someone else in mind?”
“She has not received an offer, to the best of my knowledge. I happen to know, however, that a certain titled gentleman of good family and fortune is ... interested in her.”
Lord James considered this a moment. “This paragon you describe could do a great deal better than our outspoken Miss Marchant.”
Revel listened, unfazed. “There is something to be said for frankness, though—for knowing that a young lady actually means what she says. I find her conversation a
refreshing change.”
Noticing his cousin’s growing suspicion, he added, “And I expect her beau feels the same way.”
Lord James rose and began pacing the room. “Demme, I thought I had a chance with Tess Marchant. Had I realized she was taken, I might have given myself the pleasure of putting a bullet through Marchant’s shoulder, to show the old fool a lesson. She has not actually had an offer?”
“Not yet.”
Revel knew of old the capricious nature of his cousin. He felt things would ride more smoothly if James were out of town. “You would have better hunting in London,”
he suggested. “Even out of season, there are more heiresses there than anywhere else.”
“I haven’t a feather to fly with till quarter day,”
James said, peering sideways to see what he might weasel out of his nephew. Revel was certainly eager to see the last of him.
“My London house is not open, but I always keep a couple of servants there to tend it. You are welcome to rack and manger. I daresay my housekeeper would feed you,”
Revel said reluctantly. “You may use my season’s ticket to Drury Lane.”
“A kind offer, Revel, but I have a few accounts here at Bath that I cannot settle until quarter day. I wouldn’t want to embarrass you by doing a flit.”
“I do not take your antics so personally as all that, James. They have ceased to embarrass me. How much do you owe?”
Lord James mentioned a sum in excess of what he owed. Revel knew it was more than was required, but was so eager to be rid of James that he scribbled out a generous check. “There is a little something extra to see you settled in London,”
he said, fanning the check to dry the ink.
Lord James reached eagerly for it. “Very kind of you, Revel. I’ll drop around and take my leave of your mama tomorrow.”
Revel held on to the check. “Shall we say ... today, James?”
“You are mighty eager to be rid of me.”
“Your lesser antics do not disturb me. A duel, however, is something else. You have caused quite enough mischief for the present.”
“Very well,”
Lord James said, and seized the check. “It must be nice to hold the cheese and the knife, Revel.”
“You were left more than a competence, James. With a little more industry on your part, and a good deal less of gambling, you would be high in the stirrups. Whining does not become you. Your style is more dashing and devil-may-care. I shall take my leave now.”
Revel rose and made a graceful bow. His cousin cast a malevolent glare on him and showed him to the door. Revel should be shown a lesson. It galled Lord James to be led by an upstart nephew fifteen years his junior.
“You are welcome for the use of the house, and the money,”
Revel said pointedly.
“Did I forget to thank you, Revel? An oversight, I assure you.”
He closed the door, still without mentioning his gratitude.
Revel just gave a rueful shake of his head and left. Lord James was a hard man to like. The more you did for him, the more he resented it. But he would soon be gone.
Revel turned his thoughts to other matters. Tess should be free of her mama by now. He wanted to learn what had happened after James left Bartlett Street last night. He glanced at his watch—nearly lunchtime. He’d eat at home and warn Mama not to give James any money. James would certainly try his hand at dunning her as well. She wouldn’t be happy that James was being allowed to use the London house when she wasn’t there. They’d have to warn the housekeeper to keep an eye on the silver.
At Bartlett Street, Mrs. Marchant made good her threat of taking lunch in her room. A morning locked up alone was more than enough to induce a case of the jitters. She wanted to be out around town, to see what was going on and to hear what was being said. That a small scandal might be included in her outing was no deterrent, but rather a goad.
She rang for Henshaw and began her preparations. An afternoon toilette did not last for two hours. She was ready to leave in thirty minutes, only to be struck by the notion that Lord James might call. His attendance was more necessary than ever now, to incite Lyle to jealousy. She found Tess and Dulcie in the saloon, discussing their situation.
“Get your bonnet, Dulcie. We’re going out,”
she said.
“Oh, Mama! I do not feel like it,”
Tess said.
This was excellent. She had foreseen a battle to keep Tess at home, in case James called. “Then you need not come,”
the mama replied, feigning indifference.
“Do you think it wise to go out today?”
Dulcie asked.
“Good gracious, the world does not stop wagging because your papa has taken a mistress,”
she said
angrily. “Do I not still require silk stockings and gloves?”
“What will you do if we see them?”
Dulcie asked.
There was no need to further identify “them.”
“Ladies do not hear lewd conversations, and they do not see lewd goings-on,”
Mrs. Marchant declared. “We shall stare through them as if they were not there.”
While Dulcie ran upstairs for her bonnet and pelisse, Mrs. Marchant gave her elder daughter instructions. “If anyone calls, be sure you take a message, Tess. I have no engagement for this evening, if anyone should enquire.”
“You mean Lord James?”
Tess said, with an accusing look. “If he comes, I shall have Crimshaw tell him we are all out. I do not want to be alone with him.”
“Naturally I do not expect you to entertain him alone. You must call Henshaw down. If he comes, he can leave a note telling me his plans. I shall get a reply back to him.”
“You really should not go on seeing him, Mama.”
“What should I do, Tess? Tell me from your vast experience of losing beaux. Should I run and hide my head because your papa is a rake?”
This discussion was cut short by Dulcie’s return. The ladies left, and Tess told Crimshaw that if Lord James called, she was not at home, but he could leave a note if he wished.
It was not many minutes later when the door knocker sounded, and Tess flew to the farthest corner, in case Lord James got a peek into the saloon. Crimshaw had some difficulty finding her in the shadows when he came to announce Lord Revel.
“Send him in, Crimshaw,”
Tess said.
She was in some confusion as to how she should behave vis-a-vis Lord Revel. Anger and jealousy urged her to cut up at him. On the other hand, his having performed a useful function for the family that morning deserved thanks.
Overriding both these thoughts was an overwhelming desire to make him fall in love with her. Perhaps if she used some of her mama’s and Dulcie’s wiles ... Oh, dear, and she really ought not to meet him alone.
“Shall I ask Henshaw to come down?”
Crimshaw enquired.
“It won’t be necessary to disturb her. Lord Revel won’t stay long,”
she said, blushing like a blue cow.
Crimshaw gave a mutinous look, but did as he was told. In seconds, Revel was shown in.
“Mama and Dulcie are out,”
Tess said. “I did not bother asking Henshaw down to accompany us.”
“Good,”
he replied, and walked to the gloomy corner, where she stood. “Why are you hiding in the shadows, Tess?”
“I didn’t know who was calling. I thought I might not want to be home.”
“I shall take that as a compliment,”
he replied.
He took her hand and led her to the sofa. Tess knew that if she was ever to have her chance with Revel, this was it. They were alone, sitting side by side. She glanced shyly at him. “I want to thank you for helping us this morning, Revel. We felt so helpless, being caught in the Pump Room like that.”
"I didn’t do anything but walk you to the door. I daresay you would have handled the matter as well, or better, without me.’“