Mesalliance (2 page)

‘But there’s
always Lucilla,’ Rosalind reminded him. And then, with a choke of
laughter, ‘Or is there?’

The Duke’s gaze
transferred itself to Lord Amberley.

‘Forget the
Bishop’s niece,’ he advised.

‘Yes,’ came the
regretful reply. ‘I suppose I’d better.’

He got
Rosalind’s elbow in his ribs for that but, before he could
complain, she was inviting his Grace to tell them about
Lucilla.

‘Yes.
D
o
tell us about Lucilla,’ agreed Amberley cordially. ‘And, after
that, you can tell us about Nicholas … and Kitty. We already know
about Nell and Aunt Augusta.’

Rosalind
frowned. ‘Stop being facetious.’

‘I’m not.’ He
grinned. ‘I always liked Kitty.’

‘If, by that,
you mean you preferred her to Lucilla,’ said Rockliffe languidly,
‘I entirely agree with you. But then, I prefer almost everyone to
Lucilla. Even Nell – which is saying a good deal.’

‘No, it isn’t,’
objected Rosalind. ‘Nell may be wilful but no one could help liking
her.’

‘Lucilla can.
However, it is true to say that Lucilla doesn’t actually like
anyone. She merely approves or disapproves – usually the latter.
For those who, like yourself, are fortunate enough to be
unacquainted with her, she can be summed up by one simple fact. To
the best of my knowledge, no one has ever called her Lucy. True,
Dominic?’

‘Well,
I
never did – but then I never called her anything if I could avoid
it,’ came the cheerful reply. ‘Has she also banned Nell from
entering her portals?’

‘Not at all.
Her Christian Duty would forbid it. She merely contents herself
with pointing out that she has the moral welfare of her own
children to consider and Nell constitutes a threat to it … being,
like myself, Addicted to Frivolous Pastimes and – also like me –
Vulgarly Prone to forming Violent Attachments to Unsuitable
Persons.’ The Duke paused and, entirely without haste, helped
himself to an infinitesimal pinch of snuff. ‘In short, Lucilla
believes that it is high time I fulfilled my dynastic obligations
by choosing a wife so that I will be in a position to look after
Nell myself.’

‘And will you?’
asked Rosalind casually.

‘Between now
and Friday? I doubt, my dear, that even
I
possess sufficient
address.’

‘Then you’d
better bring Nell to us, hadn’t you?’

There was a
brief silence as Amberley and Rockliffe exchanged collaborative
glances. Then, ‘No,’ said the Marquis firmly. ‘It isn’t that I
don’t like Nell, but --’

‘But you prefer
Kitty,’ interposed his wife calmly. ‘We know.’

‘ – but she’s
about as tranquil as a tidal wave and she’d wear you out inside a
day. She’d wear
me
out inside a day.’

‘That’s silly,’
objected Rosalind. ‘I’m perfectly fit. And I like Nell. She makes
me laugh.’

‘No,’ repeated
her husband. His tone was as pleasant as ever but utterly final.
‘After September, we’ll see … but until then I’ll not have you
disturbed. And if we allow Rock to get a word in, I think you’ll
find that he agrees with me.’

‘Completely,’
drawled his Grace. ‘But I thank you for the thought. And the
problem, mercifully, is only temporary for I intend to present her
this winter. If, that is, I can find anyone courageous enough to
chaperone her.’

‘Is she old
enough?’ asked Amberley. ‘I thought she would spend another year at
school.’

‘She’ll be
eighteen in October – and, even if she were not, I doubt the school
would have her back. The only reason they’ve kept her as long as
this is because I have the inestimable advantage of a coronet,’
explained Rockliffe caustically. ‘No. It’s a great pity that Kitty
chose to marry a diplomat and is therefore scarcely ever in England
for she could have saved me a good deal of effort. As it is, I
shall simply have to hope to find a gentleman with a sense of
humour and a partiality for tidal waves.’

‘And what,’
asked Rosalind, ‘if Nell doesn’t like him?’

‘Given that his
nose has an eye on either side, I expect she will,’ came the
careless reply. ‘She’s very susceptible – and, to date, her
requirements haven’t been what you could call exacting.’

She was not
deceived. ‘And yours?’

‘Ah.’ He smiled
suddenly. ‘Now that is a very different matter. Or are we still
talking about Nell?’

‘You know we
are. Though I’ve no objection at all to changing the subject,’
offered Rosalind kindly.

Having a shrewd
idea of what was coming next, Amberley said quickly, ‘But Rock
might.’

‘In which case
he will simply describe his newest snuff-box to me in minute and
excruciating detail,’ said Rosalind, smiling in his Grace’s
direction. ‘Won’t you?’

‘How well you
know me.’ The dark eyes gleamed appreciatively. ‘But there is no
need. In respect of Nell, I hope to see her married to a man who
can make her happy - but would naturally draw the line at her
dancing-master or the like. As for myself … you wish to ask if I
have ever been in love and the answer is yes. A dozen times, at
least – though not, it has to be admitted, very recently.’

‘But – ‘

‘Rosalind.’
Amberley’s light voice stopped her. ‘Rock is being extremely
patient – but any more of this and you’ll earn a snub.’

‘I only wanted
to --’

‘We know.’ The
Duke came slowly to his feet and a disquieting smile lit his face.
‘And the answer this time is that none of them were in the least
special – or even significantly different from each other. But
then, it would be singularly profitless if any of them had been.
For a girl so totally unlike her fellows would scarcely make a
satisfactory duchess, would she?’

The blind eyes
were troubled.

‘And is that
what you’re looking for? A duchess?’

‘Of course,’
replied his Grace urbanely. ‘What else?’

Later that
night after Rosalind had retired, the two gentlemen sat down to a
hand of picquet and a companiable glass of port. For a time, the
conversation roamed desultorily over a number of different topics
and then the Duke said, ‘Have you made any progress in your search
for a doctor who can help Rosalind?’

‘No. Or, at
least, nothing I’d care to rely on.’ Amberley laid his cards face
down on the table and sat back, eyeing his friend bleakly. ‘You
have no idea, Rock, just how many quacks, charlatans and tricksters
there are in the world. They all claim to know a cure that can’t
fail to work but no two of them agree on what that cure is. All
they really have in common is a desire to prise as much money out
of me as possible.’

‘That is not
particularly surprising, is it?’ His Grace also tossed his cards
down, clearly abandoning the game. ‘They must know you can afford
it – and also what such a cure would be worth to you. You’re their
golden goose, Dominic.’

‘You think I
don’t know it? And the truth is that I’d give the man who could
restore Rosalind’s sight every penny I have. But I won’t be
fleeced. Not because of the money – that’s hardly important. But I
can’t have her living with false hope. Or myself, either, come to
that.’

‘She still
doesn’t know what you’ve been doing, then?’

‘No – and she’s
not going to. Not unless I can be sure there’s a point to it.’

Rockliffe toyed
idly with his wine-glass for a moment and then said, ‘There must be
some
honest doctors, surely?’

‘There are.
They’re the ones who listen very carefully and absorb the fact that
– aside from a blow to the head when she was nine years old – there
is no discernible cause for Rosalind’s blindness; no illness, no
infection, no gradual loss of vision. And that’s when they shake
their heads regretfully and say that it’s unlikely anything can be
done to reverse it.’ The Marquis paused and then said, ‘There’s a
professor in Germany who might know something … but I can’t do
anything about that now. Not until well after the baby is born,
anyway.’

Something in
Amberley’s eyes told Rockliffe that here was a new source of
torment. He said quietly, ‘What is it, Dominic?’

For a moment,
he did not think he was going to receive a reply. Then, running a
distracted hand through his hair and speaking as thought the words
were being wrenched out of him, Amberley said, ‘She never mentions
it and never complains or appears to worry. But she’s going to have
a child she’ll never see and I don’t know how she’ll bear it.
Christ – I don’t know how
I’ll
bear it. The mere thought of
it is crucifying me. But I can’t tell her that because, hearing it,
would only make it harder for her and she hates being pitied. But
this isn’t pity, Rock. It’s my personal bloody nightmare. And you
are the only one I can talk to about it.’

Seconds ticked
by in silence. Then, finally, the Duke said simply, ‘I wish I could
do more than listen. But, for that, I am entirely at your disposal
whenever you feel the need.’

‘I know – and
I’m grateful.’

‘Now you’re
being insulting. There is no question of gratitude between us.’

‘I know that,
too.’ The Marquis managed a faintly crooked smile and then changed
the subject. ‘We’ll be staying here at Amberley through the autumn
– possibly even until Christmas. Failing Lucilla and Aunt Augusta,
have you any idea what you’re going to do about Nell?’

Rockliffe
shrugged. ‘I’ll take her down to the Priors for the summer. As for
her debut, if no other solution presents itself, I’ll ask Serena
Delahaye. She and Charles will be presenting their eldest – so
having Nell in tow shouldn’t be too much of an inconvenience.’

Amberley agreed
that Lady Delahaye would be an ideal choice … and the conversation
moved on to other shared acquaintances. The Duke asked whether
Rosalind’s brother and his new bride had yet visited them and the
Marquis replied that they were to come for a week or two the
following month.

‘And how
is
Philip?’ asked Rockliffe. ‘No longer anxious to put a
bullet through you, I assume?’

Amberley
grinned. ‘No. And he did apologise for that. Repeatedly.’

‘Ah. Well, no
doubt that completely made up for any discomfort.’

‘Not entirely,
perhaps – but you can’t expect me to bear a grudge against my
brother-in-law, can you?’

‘Dominic … I
don’t expect you to bear a grudge against
anyone
,’ sighed
Rockliffe. ‘Speaking of which … what did Philip do with
his
tedious brother-in-law?’

‘He bought him
a commission.’

‘In which
unfortunate regiment?’

Amusement
brimmed in the grey-green eyes. ‘The 22
^nd
Foot.’

‘An
infantry
regiment? Dear me!’ Rockliffe smiled slowly and
then added meditatively, ‘Of course the 22
^nd
has a long
and distinguished history.’

‘It did have.
Sadly, it now also has Robert Dacre. And a posting to the war in
America.’

Their laughter
woke the occupant of the large gilt cage in the corner who opened
one beady eye and said clearly, ‘Sod it.’

‘I see that
bird’s manners haven’t improved,’ remarked Rockliffe lazily.

‘No.’ Amberley
grinned and, rising, strolled across to the parrot. ‘Sleep,
Broody.’

‘Bugger!’ said
Broody crossly. ‘Buggrit, buggrit,
buggrit
!’

‘Sleep,’
repeated the Marquis firmly, throwing a cloth over the cage.

‘Buggrit,’
repeated Broody. And then, in slightly more muffled tones,
‘
Merde
.’

Rockliffe sat
up. ‘Did he – ?’

‘Yes.’

‘Who taught him
… or no. Of course. Your mother?’

‘Unfortunately,
yes,’ sighed Amberley. ‘Who else?’

And watched as
the Duke dissolved into rare, helpless laughter.

All his very
considerable charm having failed to placate Aunt Augusta, Rockliffe
set foot in Bath still with no practical plan for the disposal of
his sister. A lesser man might have allowed this, combined with the
catalogue of misdemeanours that greeted him in Queen’s Square, to
dismay him; the Duke, having expected both, was able to accept them
philosophically and with no diminution of his customary
sang-froid
. He merely smiled languidly upon the
head-mistress, bestowed a hefty donation upon the school and
removed his sister with impressive speed and efficiency.

It was not
until the chaise set forth again that any real conversation passed
between them. And then, casting her demure bonnet triumphantly into
the corner, Lady Elinor Wynstanton said forcefully, ‘Well! I never
thought you’d come for me yourself.’

‘I beg your
pardon.’ His Grace achieved a mocking bow. ‘And who should I have
sent? Who do you suppose there is left who would come?’

‘Hercules?
Christian? St George?’ Dark eyes, very like his own encompassed him
unabashed. ‘But – truly, dearest Rock – if I wasn’t perfectly
awful, would I ever see you at all?’

‘Dear me! Do I
take it that I only have myself to blame? How very flattering. I
had no notion that I was worth so much effort to anyone.’

Nell grinned.
‘It’s no effort, I assure you. But it
is
true that, for some
reason I can’t fathom, I like you best of all our horrid
family.’

‘Thank you. I
am suitably honoured. Tell me … did you indeed burn off one of the
Honourable Cecily Garfield’s lustrous tresses with the curling
irons?’

‘Well, yes. But
I didn’t do it on purpose. And it wasn’t lustrous. It was thin and
straggly and mud-coloured. You aren’t upset about
that
, are
you?’

His Grace
shaded his eyes with one shapely white hand.

‘Oh no,’ he
said valiantly. ‘Not at all. Her brother Lewis and I were never on
more than what you might describe as nodding terms.’