The Conqueror's Dilemma (22 page)

Tiffany had
listened to this fluent account with a flower of suspicion overlaying the
bemusement she had been under up to this point. She had not forgotten the close
association with the Conqueror enjoyed by Mrs Membury’s brother. And the events
at Astley’s were all too strong in her mind.

But Eva’s
reaction had tended to outrage. ‘Am I to understand you are inviting Tiffany to
take the place of your maid?’

‘Certainly not.
What in the world gave you that notion? No, indeed. I merely wished for someone
to travel with, and the moment I thought of Tiffany, it occurred to me how much
more enjoyable I would find the house party if I had her companionship. So you
see, there is nothing at all to take a pet at. Tiffany, dear, you have not
taken an affront into your head, I hope?’

Tiffany had
disclaimed at once, holding her breath against the insistent little rise of
hope. She had allowed herself to be ushered out to pack, Ariadne Membury in
close attendance.

‘You will allow
me to help you, I trust, for it is always difficult to decide what to take and
what to leave, and I know just what will be needed.’

The moment the
door was shut, with her duenna inside the saloon and unable to hear, Tiffany
had gripped Mrs Membury’s arm, lowering her voice so she might not be heard
inside the parlour.

‘I beg you to
tell me if this is Mr Westerham’s notion.’

The other’s gaze
had widened. ‘Good gracious, why should you think so?’

Tiffany had looked
away. ‘I—don’t know. I only thought…’ She had faded out, unable to think how to
proceed without giving herself away.

‘I thought I had
explained how it came about,’ said the other, heading towards the stairs. ‘Is
your bedchamber up here?’

‘Yes, Mrs Membury.’

The lady halted
on the bottom stair and turned. ‘Oh, do stop calling me that. You know my name.
Do use it.’ She reached out a hand and Tiffany took it. A charming smile was
bestowed upon her. ‘We are going to be great friends, you and I.’

Tiffany allowed
herself to be led up the stairs, but her suspicions deepened, despite Ariadne’s
denial. Or had she merely avoided the question? Tiffany wanted to raise it
again, but she shrank from explanations impossible to make. Nevertheless, she
could not help wondering just how much Ariadne knew.

Her
apprehensions had overcome her again as the two of them bestowed the items of
Ariadne’s choice in Tiffany’s capacious portmanteau.

‘This blue
sarcenet is an excellent colour, for it matches your eyes.’ She folded the vest
and slipped it in with the rest. ‘I do wish it was not
de rigueur
for
debutantes to wear white. It does little to enhance and nothing to attract.’

Beset with a
leaping tongue of heat, Tiffany lost all caution. ‘Whom must I attract? Had you
someone particular in mind?’

Was it her
imagination, or had Ariadne avoided her eye. ‘There is no saying which eligible
gentlemen might be present.’

‘The Conqueror,
for instance?’

Ariadne’s gaze
had fixed upon her face, in a look oddly steady if speculative. ‘You seem to
cherish an inordinate interest in Will’s actions, Tiffany. May one ask why?’

‘No, one may
not!’ A second later, Tiffany recovered her temper. ‘I beg your pardon, Mrs
Mem—I mean, Ariadne. I am—a trifle out of sorts.’

Her newfound friend’s
brows lifted. ‘Indeed? There is a lot of that about at present.’

Was there a hint
of mischief in her voice? Tiffany was too occupied in controlling her welling
emotions to be sure. She closed her lips upon further mention of Mr Westerham,
not daring to pursue the question of his possible attendance at Lady Altass’s
house party.

Eva had made one
more attempt to alter the arrangements when they had returned to the saloon,
Tiffany having changed into her one gown more suitable for travelling, the cotton
lawn worn as an overgown with seersucker beneath and providing several layers
for warmth. Although she took the precaution of wrapping up in her thick
woollen cloak.

‘I do believe I
must insist upon accompanying you, Mrs Membury. I have been thinking of it
while you were upstairs, and—’

‘Out of the
question, Lady Drumbeg,’ Ariadne had cried at once. ‘I am travelling in my
chaise, not the family coach, and there is only space for two. Don’t fear for
your charge, ma’am, she will be safe with me.’

Her chaperon had
come out with them to wave farewell, perhaps to verify Ariadne’s words. Her
chagrin was obvious to Tiffany, but she was unprepared for Ariadne’s candour,
which burst out once the horses had been given the office and the chaise was
safely away.

‘Well, that is
one nose put well and truly out of joint.’ And she had laughed with real
enjoyment. ‘I do believe poor Lady Drumbeg will hate me to her dying day.’ She
had eyed Tiffany with eyes now brimful of mischief. ‘Come, Tiffany, you are not
feeling sorry for her, I trust? She is a frightful woman, you know, and I could
not possibly allow her to batten upon Lady Altass.’

‘No, I see
that.’ Tiffany had sighed. ‘But I cannot help feeling traitorous.’

‘Fiddle. You
should be relieved to be rid of her, even if temporarily. And if she truly
means to try and marry you to that repulsive old lecher, you ought to be
grateful to be rescued.’

Tiffany
stared. ‘Your brother! So that is why—’

‘Yes, Hector ran
to me with the tale, thank goodness, and I concocted this scheme to bring you
off.’

Once more,
Tiffany found herself prey to suspicion. ‘You? He came to you with it?’

‘Have I not said
so?’

For several
moments, Tiffany held the woman’s eyes, unwilling to say more, but unable to
leave the subject alone. Then Ariadne laughed out and reached to clasp one of
Tiffany’s hands.

‘Silly child, I
promise you Will knows nothing at all of my scheme. Oh, don’t look so
woebegone. I am aware there has been something between you, though I am not
privy to the details. If he finds us out, you may be sure he will lay the blame
squarely at my door. You need not fear his wrath, I assure you.’

Tiffany was
swept with an upsurge of feeling. ‘Fear his wrath? You don’t know me, ma’am.
Believe me, I am more than a match for any wrath the Conqueror may display.’

She had been
chagrined when Ariadne laughed out, but her hand was strongly squeezed.

‘Bravo, Tiffany.
I see I have much to learn of you. I look forward eagerly to doing so.’

After which,
Ariadne had fallen silent, leaving Tiffany to her own thoughts. They were
troubled at first, but the feeling of escape could not but strengthen as the
chaise bowled along in the direction of Acton, and her spirits began to lift.

Contrary to Tiffany’s expectation,
Loscombe Manor proved to be a far from imposing edifice. From Eva’s discourse,
she had supposed all members of the upper circle inhabited massive mansions.
This one, to her eyes at any rate, was a fairly ordinary house, tending to the
rambling rather than the usual four-square block. The drive was not long, the
grounds and gardens were landscaped after the naturalistic style of Capability
Brown, and the entrance at which the chaise drew up had a simple portico under
several scattered pillars.

‘It’s a great
deal bigger than it looks,’ Ariadne informed her upon enquiry, ‘for there are
two extensive wings at the back. The original manor is long gone, of course.
This house was built by Altass’s father, I believe. I gather he was disposed to
favour informality.’

Tiffany was
relieved. A little rise of apprehension had drained away some of her new-found
cheer as she realised her stay would be among those members of society who
expected all the rules to be followed. She had spent an anxious half-hour
trying to remember the little details about what she might acceptably eat and
who came before whom in the hierarchy. In general, so Lady Drumbeg had told
her, rules were more relaxed in the country, and perhaps if the Altass
household did not hold to the stricter regimes, she might manage not to
disgrace herself.

But as soon as
they had alighted from the chaise and she saw the imposing butler awaiting them
in the open doorway, Tiffany took fright and seized Ariadne’s arm. Her
companion turned in surprise.

‘What in the
world is the matter, Tiffany?’

‘Ma’am—I mean,
Ariadne—you must promise me, before we go in, that you will help me with the
names, for I—’

Ariadne laughed.
‘Or you may go about asking people what they are?’

Tiffany felt
herself go hot. ‘Oh, dear. Yes, I did ask you that, did I not? Well, you see. And
as for the rules—I am forever making mistakes, and—’

‘Set your mind
at rest, dear. Should it become necessary, I will certainly intervene and help
you out. But I doubt you will find Lady Altass and her guests to be in the
least intimidating. I am sure you will manage well enough.’

While she could
not subscribe to this view, Tiffany was grateful for the reassurance. In any
event, there was no time for more, for the butler had been reinforced by a
black-clad female, who greeted Ariadne with deference, although her ease of
manner argued long acquaintance. It transpired she was the housekeeper and in
no time at all, Tiffany found herself installed in a pretty room done out in
chintz situated right next door to Ariadne.

It did not take
long to wash away the stains of travel and tidy her dress, and before long
Ariadne, who had changed into her elegant leaf green muslin, arrived to collect
her.

‘Before we go
down, Tiffany, there is just one thing I wish to mention.’

Tiffany’s breath
stopped, the instant thought flying into her head that Ariadne meant to impart
some matter concerning the Conqueror.

‘Yes?’

Ariadne’s brows
drew together. ‘Faith, why do you look so afraid? What have I said?’

‘Nothing—I
only—nothing at all.’

A moment longer Ariadne
continued to eye her searchingly, while Tiffany strove to look unconcerned.
Then her lilting smile appeared.

‘I was only
going to ask if you will oblige me with one tiny favour.’

Since she owed a
debt of gratitude to Ariadne, Tiffany felt she ought to have responded with
unhesitating acquiescence.

‘What is it?’
she asked instead, aware her voice was breathy with suspicion. ‘I mean—yes. I
will if I can, if it is not—’

‘Dear me, you
are getting yourself in a tangle, aren’t you?’ Ariadne let out her characteristic
trill of laughter. ‘There is nothing at all to alarm you, silly child. I merely
want to ask you to try and make a friend of Melinda.’

Bewildered,
Tiffany stared at her. ‘Melinda?’

‘Lady Altass’s
daughter, Melinda Loscombe.’

‘Yes, I know,
but—but why?’

‘Hector is in
love with her, and I mean to find out her feelings towards him. And, if she is
disposed to like him even a little, you and I may put our heads together and
find ways to throw them in each other’s way.’

The only item in
this devious plot with any power to capture Tiffany’s attention was the
implication it contained.

‘Throw them in
each other’s way where? Here in this house? Then your brother is coming.’

If Lord Kilbride
was coming, what of the Conqueror? Tiffany’s mouth had gone dry and her pulses
were kicking like a terrified mule. She was only half aware of Ariadne’s
interested regard, and her mind refused to concentrate on the request that had
been made of her.

‘To be truthful,
I have not asked Hector,’ said Ariadne at last, ‘but it is possible he has been
invited. Unless Lady Altass is averse to his suit, which, from my observation,
does not appear to be the case. Besides, once you are accepted, there will be
opportunities enough in Town, and if you are able to use this chance to get
upon terms with Melinda, there is no saying what schemes we may not concoct
between us to bring the thing off.’

Tiffany’s head
felt light. Until this moment she had not given a thought to the possible
consequences of her attendance at this country house visit. Other than as they
concerned William Westerham. But here was Ariadne Membury, talking as if her
acceptance was a mere matter of form. Could it be as easy as this? Such a song
and dance as the Conqueror had made about her elevation, Tiffany had become
inured to the notion she must be considered forever beyond the pale.

She refused to
entertain the natural conclusion to such a change edging at the barriers of her
mind. That was out of the question. He had made it plain enough. Tiffany Felton
had not the means required to tempt Mr Westerham from the path of ambition.

The remembrance
strengthened her against him, and she followed Ariadne from the room with her
head held high.

In the event, no
great strain was put upon Tiffany’s ingenuity for it was readily apparent she
and Melinda Loscombe were the only unattached females of the party, and Miss
Loscombe took immediate possession of her.