The Spanish Marriage (22 page)

“Cousins!” Thunderstruck, Matlin looked intently
at the Chases. “Her cousin? What sort of hum is that? Or—oh my God,
perhaps that was what she was trying to tell me.” With the air of a man
suddenly and overwhelmingly exhausted, Matlin collapsed into a straight chair
and sat staring at the backs of his hands. “It appears I have been every
kind of fool there is. I still do not trust that man....”

Bess flew to Joaquín’s defense this time. “He
would never do anything to hurt Thea, I know it.”

Matlin and Tony Chase exchanged dubious glances.

“Lady Matlin was not at Ocott House?”

“Not when I stopped there. I left word with my uncle’s
butler to have word brought here if she arrived while I was out. Of course, she
may have countermanded me. Damn, where can she be? What is she thinking of me?
I tell you Chase, this business of marriage is the very devil.”

“So I’ve heard sir. I’d say the thing to
do is to return to Hill Street and see if they have any word of her. With your
permission,” he colored slightly. “I would like to come with you.”

“If you wish.” Matlin had not the heart to
refuse the younger man, although he would have welcomed the solitude in which
to berate himself for what seemed to be limitless stupidities in dealing with
his wife. He was aware of Chase’s infatuation with Thea, but it was such
a chivalric boy’s
tendre
that he had had no qualms about it. As
for Joaquín: “Her cousin, Joaquín styled himself? I wonder. He looks
Spanish, certainly.”

“Perhaps he has taken your wife for a drive to clear
her head, and by now they are returned to your uncle’s house, sir. A
runner may be on the way with the news at this moment.” Chase’s
words lacked total conviction, but Matlin was grateful for them nonetheless.

“It’s possible,” he agreed. “Well, let
us go and see if we can learn what’s to do there. Miss Chase, will you
send word to my uncle’s house if you hear anything from my wife?”

“Yes.” Bess offered him her hand. “I’ve
thought rather horridly of you, Sir Douglas. Will you accept my apology?”

Matlin took her hand. “None is needed, Miss Chase. I
have bungled this whole business from start to finish. If I have the chance
now, I mean to make amends to her.”

“Good. She loves you terribly, you know.”

“I hope you’re right. We’ll need it.
Chase?” The men started for the door. “If there is any word?”

“I will let you know at once,” Bess promised.

Neither man said a word on the short drive to Hill Street. Platt
opened the door to them with a look of expectancy that vanished ludicrously
when he saw who it was.

“No word, I take it?’

“No sir. Sir, my lady is home, and considerable upset....”

“Damnation, I’ll just wager she is. It needs
only that. No, Platt, I do not wish to see my aunt. Some brandy, I think, in
the library?” He looked at Chase. “I think I need to consider what
to do next.” As Tony seemed to exhibit signs of departing, he added, “I
would appreciate it if you would stay, Chase. I realize this is a hellish
imbroglio to invite you into, but I need a friend tonight, and you are in it
already. Come have a brandy, in any case.” As he followed Chase into the
library he muttered, “Where the devil can she have got to?”

“Does Lady Matlin have family in London, sir?”
Tony asked ten minutes later, after silent contemplation of the glass in his
hand.

“In London? No. Some family of her father’s in
Cumberland who refused to take her in after her father’s death, and the
heir to her father’s estate in Somerset.... If I know my wife, she’d
rather sink than go to them. If she has not gone to your sister, who the devil
is there left, unless my aunt has arranged for her to stay with some one of
her
friends. Perhaps I ought to have a word with my aunt.” Matlin rose
out of his chair far enough to reach the bell-pull. When Platt appeared he
asked, “Has my aunt retired yet? No? Would you ask her if she would grant
me a word after all?”

Platt returned five minutes later.

“Her ladyship says,” he began, but was
forestalled by her ladyship herself, dishevelled and distracted.

“I want to know what sort of imbecility you have been practicing,
Douglas. The story was all out at Lady Pickett’s half an hour after it
happened: Godfrey Webster was at Ranelagh and had no better sense than to
spread it among the
ton.
Kissing that revolting Towles woman in the
middle of a public garden, as if she were a
fille de joie
and you were a
mooncalf of eighteen!”

“
She
was kissing
me
,” Matlin
protested.

His aunt disregarded the distinction. “I arrive home
to find that Platt has word to send to you when Thea shows herself, which made
me not at all comfortable in my mind, I assure you. She’s a sensitive
little thing, Douglas; can’t you imagine what she must have felt?”

“Aunt Sue....”

“Be quiet. I don’t want to hear excuses from
you. Perhaps Thea will forgive you someday, although I honestly do not see why
she should. It is one thing for a man to have his outside
amours
, but to
make them public in that fashion, when you’ve not been wedded two months,
is unconscionable and indelicate beyond anything I have ever heard. I have only
one question.”

Matlin sighed and waited.

Lady Ocott drew herself up to full height. “What have
you done with her?”

Incongruously, Matlin began to laugh. Under Lady Ocott’s
and Tony Chase’s scandalized eyes, he sank into his chair with his head
in his hands.

“Douglas?” Lady Ocott started toward him, one
hand outstretched nervously. “Oh dear. Douglas, I really did not think,
really, my lamb, you must not upset yourself this way. We
will
find her;
I know it. O dear.”

Matlin raised his head from his hands. His face was white,
but, from his expression, he had regained his control. “My apologies,”
he said first, to Chase. “Honestly, Aunt Sue, of all the things of which
I might be accused, making away with my wife is the very last.”

Lady Ocott settled herself into a wing chair and tucked a trailing
strand of hair into the ruins of her coiffure. “I know it is, dear lamb.
I never thought it would come out that way, what I said, I mean. Don’t
you know where Thea is by now? For heaven’s sake, at least tell me what
really happened. And yes,” she added thoughtfully. “Will you pour
me a brandy as well? For my heart.”

Tony Chase poured the liquor while Matlin gave his version
of the evening events.

“You have no idea what happened after she left
Ranelagh?” she asked Chase.

He seemed surprised to be addressed, but shook his head. “No,
ma’am. Since her cousin was with her....”

“Cousin? What cousin?”

Matlin answered. “That’s the queerest part of
the story, Aunt. It seems that this Joaquín is one of Thea’s Spanish
cousins. He told the Chases he would bring her home. By God, if I find him....”

“Yes, dear, I’m sure you will,” Lady Ocott
said obscurely. “I only wish I could. The most pressing matter is to
figure out where he has taken Dorothea. Then you may run him through or shoot
him or whatever you like.” She folded her hands complacently and regarded
her companions with a look of expectation.

“His lodgings....” Chase began once.

“Do you know where they are?” Matlin asked
eagerly.

Chase slumped back. “No.”

A few minutes later: “His carriage.... If we can trace
that, find out where it went after they left Ranelagh....” Matlin sat
bolt upright.

Tony Chase shook his head unhappily. “He had hired a hansom
cab for the evening, a nice rig, but not in the least remarkable.”

Matlin sank back again, his face a mask of frustration. “How
the deuce do you trace a man and woman in a hansom cab in the dead of night in
London?” As if to confirm his thoughts, the hall clock struck one.
“If he has harmed her, I will kill him, cousin or no.”

No one said anything for some time.

At last, Lady Ocott rose. “I can see that I am not
helping you in the least. Perhaps what we all need is some sleep, Douglas. In
the morning we may be thinking more clearly, or Thea may send to tell us where
she is. Nigel will be home to help.”

“Perhaps you’re right, Aunt Sue, though I don’t
see how I shall sleep—yes, Platt?”

The man seemed flustered. “Excuse me, sir. This just
arrived for you. The young person as delivered it, sir, was a foreign person,
sir. I thought as you would like to know.”

Matlin snatched an envelope from the footman and looked at
it. His own name and address were inscribed in a small, flourished hand.

“Well?” Lady Ocott prodded.

“For the love of God, Sir Douglas, open it.”

“I will. I will.” Matlin replied equally to
Chase and his aunt. He tore the envelope open with unsteady hands and removed a
card of the sort used for invitations. The message was written out in the same
small, dramatic hand.

Sir:

My cousin is well and sends you her greetings. It is vital that
I speak with you on a matter of importance to us both. I will send to you in
the morning with information as to where Lady Matlin and I can be found. I beg
you will then come at once.

It was signed: Joaquín Raul Ibañez-Blanca y Mores.

“I will kill him.”

“Douglas, for the love of God, what does it say? Is
she all right? Has he got her?”

Matlin handed the card to his aunt with an almost offhanded
gesture. She and Chase read it quickly and turned back to him. “My God,
he
has
abducted her,” Lady Ocott protested faintly. “I
didn’t think gothick tricks like that happened to people like
us.
”

More to the point, “What does he want?” Tony
Chase worried. “If Lady Matlin is his cousin, surely he cannot want—that
is to say,” he started again with an apologetic glance for his hostess, “he
cannot be in love with her.”

“Pray, Mr. Chase, don’t consider my delicacy at
this late date. I assure you I have none; so don’t mince words. If this
Mr. Joaquín Iba—which
is
his surname? If Thea is not what he
wants, what can it be?”

Matlin spoke in a dangerously calm tone. “He wishes to
speak with me; didn’t you notice? That unmitigated blackguard has
abducted my wife, taken advantage of her confusion and their relationship,
forced her off to God knows where....” He broke off angrily. “The
poor child must be terrified,” he added more gently.

“You know, Douglas, when Thea does come home, it would
do you a world of good if you ceased to refer to her as ‘child.’ It’s
all very well for me; I’m old enough to be her mother, or your own for
the matter of that. When you consider that you are only nine and twenty
yourself, it is hardly the appropriate way to speak of your wife.” Lady
Ocott settled herself in her chair again and reached for her glass.

“What on earth has my age to do with it?” Matlin
asked, exasperated.

“I rather think it has more to do with her age,”
Lady Ocott replied. “You’ve mixed with girls of come-out age since
you were breeched, and why you continually refer to
this
one as a baby,
a child, an infant, is beyond me.”

“You don’t understand.”

“I don’t suppose I do.” Lady Ocott sighed
prosaically. “Well, what are we to do until Mr. Joaquín whatever-he-is
sends his next message? Sleep? Mr. Chase, you are more than welcome to stay the
night here.” Lady Ocott looked significantly at her nephew. “Douglas
would be glad of your support in this, I think.”

“Since Lady Matlin was abducted out of my care I feel
myself—and after all, Joaquín has been making advances to my sister
and....” The young man swallowed a lump in his throat. “Yes, I want
to be in on this, if you don’t mind, Sir Douglas?”

“What?” Matlin roused himself from a deep funk.
Chase repeated his offer. “Oh God, yes, if you wish. You can assure my
aunt that I did not kill Señor Ibañez-Blanca except in a fair fight. As for
sleep, I don’t think I could. If you wish, go ahead. I’ll send for
you before I leave.”

“I think I’ll sit up, if it’s all the same
to you.”

Lady Ocott looked at both men, sighed, and made it known
that if she was going to sit awake all night, she would do so in the privacy of
her own chamber. “The fact remains that you will not be in any condition
to run Mr. Joaquín through unless you get some sleep, Douglas. I am going to my
room, and I advise you boys to do likewise. Mr. Chase, I shall ask Platt to
have a room made up for you.”

They exchanged thanks and good evenings. Looking tired and
old, Lady Ocott left them.

“Look, Chase, if you wish to go upstairs for a while
and rest in comfort....” Matlin began some fifteen minutes later. They
had been sitting in silence, staring at the fire as if some answer would be
revealed there. “Platt will have seen to your room by this time.”

“Don’t be an ass,” Chase advised. “I
can no more sleep than you can. If you don’t mind my saying so, sir, an
ass is exactly what you have been, allowing that woman to make a public
spectacle of you, treating Lady Matlin as if....”

“I
do
mind. I am aware of each and every one of
my follies, but I am damned if I will be scolded yet again; by anyone other
than my wife, in any case. I’ve been read quite enough lectures for one
day.”

“I’m sorry, I had no intention, I
mean....” Chase stared at Matlin as if a new idea had come into his head.

“Well?”

“You care for her, don’t you, sir?” Matlin
nodded. “Did you never tell her so?”

“Dammit, that was what I went to Ranelagh to do.”

“I see.” Chase said. After that, neither of them
felt very much like talking.

A maid woke them in the early morning when she came to light
the fire and to sweep the ashes from the hearth. From the pale light that shone
in the chinks of the shutters, it was just dawn. In the hallway a clock struck
five. The maid finished her work, bobbed an apologetic curtsy to the two half-recumbent
men, and left.