Authors: Mary Nichols
'I have not
been in the best of health and am much fatigued, Mr Martindale,' her ladyship
said. 'And I have promised myself a comfortable coze at home with an old
friend, but if Juliette wishes to go, then her maid may accompany her.'
Juliette
suppressed a little gasp. This was the first she had heard of her mother
meeting a friend and she had never heard her tell an untruth before. Was she
trying to throw them together? In view of the story of the family quarrel, she
was not at all sure she should accept the invitation without first asking her
father. It would put her mother out of countenance if she should point that out
in front of the young man, so she hesitated, wondering if she ought to make
some excuse to decline. She had almost made up her mind to do so, when Mr
Devonshire was announced.
Wearing a
military-style frockcoat and kerseymere pantaloons, he came into the room,
smiling easily, and strode over to the ladies to make his bow before them and
ask how they did. On being assured that both were well, he added, 'I had hoped
to speak to his lordship...'
`I am afraid he
is not at home,' Lady Martindale said. `But please sit down.'
Philip turned
to James, apparently noticing him for the first time. 'Good day to you,
Martindale.'
`Good day to
you.' James grinned at him, though his eyes flickered, as if he could not quite
meet the other's steady gaze. 'You see, I beat you to it. I am to escort Miss
Martindale in the park this afternoon.'
`I congratulate
you on your good fortune,' Philip said.
Then, to the
ladies, he added, 'Please excuse me, I will withdraw and return another time,
if her ladyship and Miss Martindale will do me the honour of receiving me.'
Her ladyship
smiled a little stiffly. 'Of course.'
The grin on
James Martindale's face as he watched him go, was one of unalloyed triumph and
Juliette found herself feeling sorry for Mr Devonshire. Was she supposed to be
pleased that two men were so obviously at daggers drawn over her? Or was there
more to it than that?
And now it had
been taken out of her hands; James had assumed she had consented and there was
no opportunity to contradict him because her other partners from the ball
arrived in quick succession, bringing flowers and sweetmeats, and after a few
desultory remarks about the success of the occasion, James took his leave,
saying he would call for her at three o'clock.
Lord Martindale
returned to the house from the House of Lords a little after two. He went
straight into the library, ordering food and wine to be taken in to him.
Juliette waylaid the servant with the tray and took it in herself.
`My,' he said,
smiling up at her from his armchair on one side of the hearth, 'what have I
done to deserve such attention from the belle of the ball?'
`Who said I was
the belle of the ball? Surely not Mama?'
`Why not Mama?
She is as proud of you as I am and it is due to her that you looked so well.
She said you had been a great success.'
Juliette smiled
with pleasure; her mother rarely praised. `Oh, but I have to own that I was
tempted to accept a third dance with the same partner.'
`Oh,' he
teased. 'And who had the temerity to ask you three times?'
`Mr James
Martindale. He called earlier and asked me to take a carriage ride with him in
the park.'
`Did he, by
Jove!'
`Papa, should
we be receiving him? He told me you and his father had quarrelled.'
`So we did, but
it was a long time ago and all forgotten now.' He sounded unnaturally jolly.
`Then you have
no objection to my going?'
`None at all,
my dear. But do not let him monopolise you. I want you to meet every eligible
in town and make your own choice. You must have met and danced with others.'
`Indeed, I did.
There was Mr Arthur Boreton and Mr Macgregor, but he is so fat he had no idea
where he was putting his feet. And Lord Hart took me on the floor for the
Lancers, which must have been very unwise at his age. He hardly had breath left
at the end to speak. I began to think he would have a seizure. And there was
Selwyn Lampeter, but he is hardly out of the schoolroom and I think he was
using me to practise his dance steps. And Mr Devonshire, but he danced with me
out of duty.'
`How can you
say that? I am sure he did not.'
`He implied it
was to prevent me making a fool of myself over Mr Martindale, Papa.'
`Were you about
to make a fool of yourself?'
`No. I simply
had not taken note of the number of times we had danced. I cannot see that it
matters anyway.'
`Oh, it does -
you ask the tabbies who sit round the floor counting. I am indebted to Mr
Devonshire.'
`He came this
morning, too, but he left very quickly when he saw Mr Martindale was here. Mr
Martindale was crowing over him. Papa, I do not think they like each other. Do
you know why?'
`No, except a
little rivalry perhaps. You are a very beautiful young lady, you know.'
Juliette
sighed. She didn't understand the ways of Society, in spite of her mother's
careful instruction. It all seemed so false. 'Mama has said I may accept Mr
Martindale's invitation and Anne is to come too.'
`And you were
doubtful, is that what all this is about?' He reached across and patted her
hand. 'Do not worry, my dear. If you wish to go, you may.' He smiled suddenly.
'And if Mr Devonshire were to ask to escort you on another occasion, I shall
give my blessing to that too. If they are to be rivals...' He smiled knowingly.
`For me, Papa?
I hardly know either of them. It seems to me that Mr Martindale is too
flamboyant and confident of his own charm and Mr Devonshire is too sombre. He
rarely smiles, unless he is laughing at me, which isn't at all the same thing.'
'Mr Devonshire
has not had an easy life, my dear, and perhaps the social graces have passed
him by, but he is an excellent fellow.'
'Oh, he is not
graceless, Papa, far from it. In fact...' She stopped, blushing furiously. 'I
do not know quite what to make of him.'
He smiled. 'You
are not alone in that. Half London has become curious about him, but do not let
that concern you.'
'And Mr
Martindale?'
'Until
recently, I have had little to do with him, and it is not fair to condemn him
for the intolerance and sheer cupidity of his father.'
`What was the
quarrel all about, Papa? May I not know?'
'It wasn't
exactly a quarrel. I had no heir. You know yourself that it was three
miscarriages which ruined your mother's health. My brother was due to inherit.
Nothing could change that and, indeed, I had no wish to do so.
'But he took
exception to your arrival on the scene when I made it quite clear that he might
have the title and the estate, but that the bulk of my wealth would be passed
to you, the best dowry I could manage. At that time he was himself a very
wealthy man, he had no need of it. But he was also a gambler and his wife was a
spendthrift. By the time they died, there was little left. I have been
supporting James with an allowance for some time now and recently found him a
clerical post at the War Department, though he chooses not to acknowledge his
indebtedness and has never until now visited us. Pride, I suppose.'
'Is he like his
father, Papa?' she asked, wondering if her father knew about the new carriage
and pair. The allowance and his salary must indeed be generous if they
stretched to such luxuries.
`That I do not
know. We will doubtless find out.'
`Mama seems to
like him.'
`Yes, I believe
she does; who am I to quarrel with her judgement? She chose me, after all.' He
smiled and poured himself a glass of wine. 'Now you had best run along or you
will keep James waiting.'
She jumped up
and bent over to kiss his cheek. 'Thank you, Papa, you are the best of fathers.
I shall remember what you said.'
The carriage way in Hyde Park was crowded with vehicles of
all kinds, from barouches and town coaches, to phaetons and curricles which
paraded at a pace that was little more than a walk, so that their occupants
could see and be seen. On the other side of the fence, riders walked or gently
cantered, showing off themselves and their mounts. Juliette, sitting on the
padded seat of the open carriage, in a matching skirt and jacket of red and
green checked cloth, her pale curls topped by a green bonnet trimmed with a
peacock feather that swept across the brim and down on to one cheek, looked
very fetching and James was not slow to tell her so.
She pretended
to accept his compliments coolly and sat with her gloved hands in her lap,
looking about her. She recognised Lady Carstairs and Lucinda in one barouche
and James asked the driver to stop so that they might pass the time of day and
thank her for an enjoyable evening.
Lucinda blushed
scarlet when James spoke to her and seemed to be concentrating on one of the
buttons on her pelisse, unable to look him in the eye until her mother dug her
in the ribs with her fan.
`Poor thing!'
Juliette said, as they bowled away. 'She is so dreadfully shy.'
`And so
dreadfully plain, too.'
`Mr Martindale,
that is very unkind of you! And it is not true. She has wonderfully expressive
eyes and lovely hair.'
He turned to
smile at her. `You can afford to be generous, Miss Martindale, when you have so
much to commend your own appearance.' He grinned and leaned forward to whisper
in her ear. 'You are lovely, cousin, quite lovely. We make a handsome couple,
don't you think?'
`Mr Martindale!'
she exclaimed.
`Could you not
call me James when we are alone?'
'We are not
alone.' She glanced across at Anne, who was pretending not to listen.
`Then I think
we should take steps to remedy that. We will stop and take a stroll, shall we?'
He called the driver to pull up. As soon as the coach came to a standstill
under a group of trees a little off the road, he stepped down and turned to
offer her his hand. She hesitated and he added, 'Come, you have nothing to
fear. There are a great many people about and your maid will watch over us.'
She took his
hand and stepped down on to the grass, but before Anne could follow he shut the
door. 'From here,' he said, smiling at the maid. 'We will not go out of sight.'
Before Juliette
could protest, he had taken her elbow and was guiding her along a path away
from the coach.
`I am very fond
of walking, Miss. Martindale,' he said. `Are you?'
`At home in the
country, yes.' She was very apprehensive and wishing she had never left the
carriage. What did he want with her that necessitated leaving Anne out of
earshot? Surely not a proposal? It was far too soon for that. Her heart was
beating uncomfortably fast. She must control her breathing and converse with
him as naturally and impersonally as possible.
`To be sure, in
the country,' he said, apparently unaware of her doubts. 'Hartlea is quite an
extensive estate, is it not?'
`I suppose it
must be. I never thought about it. Have you not seen it?'
`I have passed
by, skirted it, you might say, but I have not been privileged to see it
properly.'
`But it is your
inheritance.'
`Yes, but it
will not fall into my hands for some time and by then I hope my fortunes will
have changed and that I will have the means to see to its upkeep.'
`You have
expectations?'
He smiled. `Oh,
yes, I have expectations.' He stopped suddenly. 'Oh, forgive me, we should not
be speaking of so sad a happening. His lordship is your father, after all.'
She did not
know why this statement made her shudder, as if someone had poured cold water
over her. On the surface he was charming and attentive, but there was something
about those flickering eyes that told her to beware.
On the other
hand, perhaps she was being fanciful. A match between them might be considered
by her parents to be ideal. He would have her dowry to spend on the upkeep of
the estate and she would still be able to live in her beloved home. She could
not imagine living anywhere else. But where was love?
They turned
back towards the carriage and she gave a gasp of surprise to see Mr Devonshire
standing beside it, holding a beautiful black horse by its bridle and talking
to her maid.
He doffed his
riding hat as they approached. 'Miss Martindale, your obedient.'
She wanted to
ask him if he had followed them and, if he had, why he had taken so much upon
himself, but she found she could not find the words. He was looking directly at
her, his dark eyes seeing right into her heart, understanding her discomfiture.
She was forced to look away.
`Devonshire,
what are you doing here?' James demanded, barely hiding his annoyance.
`I saw the
carriage and the young lady sitting in it, looking distressed. I thought it had
broken down and rode over to offer assistance. Miss Golightly informed me she
was waiting for her mistress and very upset she was, too.'