It was five minutes to seven, and Linnet paced restlessly up and down in the drawing room. She was alone, for her aunt hadn’t emerged from her room all day, having been more than a little wearied by the long journey. In a way, Linnet was relieved, for her aunt’s presence would have made the forthcoming interview even more difficult.
Fingering her carved ivory fan, she felt almost sick with apprehension. What did he wish to say to her? He surely didn’t imagine they could set the past aside and meet as friends? Oh, if only Benedict were here to give her the support she needed.
Catching a glimpse of her reflection in the great mirror above the fireplace, she paused to inspect her appearance. Tonight she needed to look her very best, her pride wouldn’t endure anything less. Her chestnut hair was swept up into a Grecian knot which was fixed with a turquoise-studded comb. A circlet of the same stones lay across her forehead, and there were more in her earrings. Her evening gown was made of the sheerest ivory silk, with a very low-cut square neckline and dainty petal sleeves that fluttered at the slightest movement. Elbow-length fingerless mittens made of ivory lace encased her arms, and there was a knotted shawl, woven in a turquoise-and-gold design, resting lightly around her shoulders. The train of the gown dragged richly behind her, the tiny ivory sequins adorning it sparkling in the early evening light that poured in through the courtyard windows.
It had been another glorious summer day, and the windows stood open, allowing the light breeze to drift refreshingly into the room. The drawing room of Carlisle House was a handsome place, its walls hung with pale-gray brocade, and the furniture was upholstered with plum velvet. There were touches of gold everywhere, and a honeysuckle design that was repeated on the cornices, the architraves, the arms of the chairs and sofas, and around the elegant fireplace.
The ormulu clock on the mantelpiece began to strike the hour, and as it did, Nicholas’s dark-blue landau turned into the courtyard, the team of roans stepping high as the coachman drove them toward the house.
Linnet hurried to the windows, glad of the lace drapes that allowed her to look secretly out. The landau’s hoods were down, and she saw him stand up to alight. He was dressed formally, and was evidently going on somewhere after seeing her. He stepped down, pausing for a moment to remove his black tricorn hat and tuck it under his arm. He wore a black velvet coat, very tightly cut, white silk breeches, a white waistcoat, and a shirt that was lavishly trimmed with lace. For a moment her thoughts winged back to the Christmas ball, when he’d claimed her for the ländler. There was something compellingly attractive about him even now, and in spite of the destruction of all her foolish illusions, he still had the power to affect her. She wished him in Hades, for he was surely a devil that was going to haunt her for the rest of her days, even though she now loved Benedict. She drew back from the window, for he was approaching the steps to the main entrance of the house.
She moved quickly to a sofa by the fireplace, picking up a book she’d taken at random from her uncle’s library. She hadn’t bothered to glance at the title, but she did so now, and saw to her dismay that it was a work on the origins and rules of the noble game of cricket!
Steps approached the double doors, and Sommers entered, standing aside to announce Nicholas. “Lord Fane, madam.”
As Nicholas came in, she feigned deep interest in the book, closing it at last, as if his arrival had caught her completely unprepared. Her glance was cool, but the palms of her hands were hot. “Good evening, Lord Fane,” she said in a tone devoid of cordiality.
“Good evening, Miss Carlisle.” He sketched a brief bow, and then came to take her hand, raising it to his lips.
She quickly moved her other hand to conceal the title of the book, but his sharp glance had already perceived it. He straightened, smiling a little cynically. “Cricket? I had no idea you found it interesting.”
“You wished to see me, Lord Fane?” She trusted her manner was suitably chill, and that he couldn’t see how much he’d already managed to fluster her.
“We’re to get immediately to the point? The lakeland air evidently didn’t give you an appetite for polite conversation.”
“Polite conversation? Very well. How is Radleigh Hall, my lord?” she replied coldly.
“Prospering, thank you. How thoughtful of you to ask.”
“I trust Miss Jordan found it to her liking.”
“She hasn’t had the opportunity to either like or dislike it.”
“That isn’t what I’ve been told,” she replied, setting the book abruptly aside and rising angrily from the sofa. “If you’ve come to toy with me, sirrah, you’re wasting both our time. What is the purpose of this visit?”
“Well, among other things, I wished to see you again.” His glance moved over her. “I prefer you in yellow, but you’re looking very well for all that, so perhaps the lakeland air didn’t entirely disagree with you.”
“The lakeland air proved a sovereign remedy for my malady, sir, and I promise you that I’m fully recovered now.”
He smiled a little. “I’m glad to hear it. I take it from your togs that you’re sallying forth this evening?”
“l am.”
“Let me guess. The theater? Yes, that will be it. The Theatre Royal, to see your favorite actress in your favorite play.”
“I’m flattered you remember.”
“I remember a great deal about you.”
“As I do about you, sirrah, particularly your insincerity and villainy.”
He sighed. “You haven’t improved after all,” he observed dryly.
“Your belle de nuit evidently has much to answer for, sirrah, for although she may have convinced you she finds your small talk entertaining, I find it the end in tedium so will you please come to the point of this?”
“My belle de nuit? Are you by any chance referring to Miss Jordan?”
“With how many such persons do you consort, my lord?”
“What a very improper question for a lady to ask.”
“No doubt you imagine your wit to be the dryest of things,” she retorted, turning away.
“It wasn’t wit, madam, it was an entirely suitable response to your continuing ill manners. Your conduct a year ago was reprehensible in the extreme, and you seem set to continue in the same vein now you’ve come back.”
She whirled around, her breath catching sharply. “My reprehensible conduct?”
“Yes.”
“How dare you!”
“How dared you, madam. You should not have questioned my actions last year, and if I chose not to dignify your demands with replies, then you have only yourself to blame.”
She stared incredulously at him. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this,” she said then, turning away again. “You said in your note that you have things of importance to discuss.”
“We haven’t finished about last year yet.”
“Oh yes we have. Or are you going to tell me you didn’t cheat my uncle out of Radleigh? And that your tawdry Bird of Paradise is a figment of my imagination?”
“I still have no intention of humoring your wounded pride, madam. I just wish you to know that I regard what happened as your fault, not mine.”
It was too much. “Please leave immediately,” she said, her voice shaking.
She reached for the little bell to summon Sommers, but Nicholas stopped her, putting his hand quickly over hers so that she couldn’t take the bell.
“Very well,” he said, “I’ll come to the point of my visit. When I saw you yesterday, you were in Lady Hartley’s carriage. Was Gresham with you?”
She twisted her hand away, turning furiously to face him. “And if he was? What business is it of yours?”
“It’s very much my business. So, he was with you?”
“Yes.”
“And had been to Grasmere?”
“Yes.”
“Not for the first time, I know.” His eyes were very penetrating. “What is he to you, Linnet?”
“That is none of your concern, my lord,” she breathed, her whole body quivering with anger, and with a confusing tumult of other emotions.
Another carriage was arriving outside, and he turned quickly, seeing Venetia and Benedict in Venetia’s town barouche. He looked at Linnet again. “Your escorts for the night, I take it. I asked you what he is to you, Linnet, and I would be much obliged if you gave me an answer.”
“Why are you so concerned? You made your choice a year ago, my Lord, and what I do now really isn’t anything to do with you.”
“I’m fast losing patience, madam. What is Gresham to you?”
His tone was flint-sharp, and she drew back a little. “A very close friend,” she said.
“How close?”
“Close enough. And that’s all I’m going to say.” She seized the bell, ringing it loudly. “Please leave, Nicholas, before I have you thrown out.”
“Oh, I don’t think you need to be so uncivilized, madam,” he said softly, “for I intend to leave. I came here tonight to see if you were improved enough to be rational, but that’s evidently not the case. What I had to say, therefore, will remain unsaid. For the time being. Good night.”
She didn’t reply, nor did she look at him as he crossed the room. Sommers opened the doors, standing quickly aside as Nicholas passed.
“You rang for me, Miss Carlisle?”
“Please see Lord Fane to the door, Sommers.”
“Yes, madam.”
But Nicholas had already gone. As the butler hurried after him, Linnet moved quickly to the window, looking through the nets to see Venetia and Benedict standing in some consternation by their barouche, having recognized Nicholas’s landau.
Nicholas emerged from the house, and they turned. He paused to briefly accord Venetia a nod, but he looked right through Benedict. A moment later he was in the landau, being driven swiftly away across the courtyard.
Benedict hurried into the house ahead of Venetia, and Linnet moved from the window, waiting for him to enter the room.
He didn’t pause to hand Sommers his tricorn, but came straight into the drawing room, snatching the hat off and tossing it on to a table. He glanced around, and saw that she was alone. “What was Fane here for?” he demanded. “Did he bother you?”
“I’m quite all right, Benedict, and as to what he wanted, well, I have to confess that I really don’t know.”
“Are you sure he didn’t upset you?”
She managed to look composed, but the truth was that she was very upset indeed. She smiled. “Of course he didn’t.”
He relaxed then, coming quickly over to take her in his arms. “I can’t bear to think of him anywhere near you,” he whispered, tilting her lips to meet his.
She clung to him, needing his comfort and strength, then she smiled a little ruefully. “Well, at least I’ve had my first encounter with him.”
He drew away. “An encounter that took place when you were alone. Where is your great-aunt? I thought she was determined to protect you from such things.”
“She’s in her room, still resting after the journey. It isn’t her fault, Benedict, for she didn’t know anything about it. Nicholas sent a note to me yesterday, and I chose not to say a word to her. I’d be grateful if you’d do the same, for there’s no need for her to know he called, it would only bother her.”
Venetia spoke from the doorway, where she’d been waiting at a discreet distance. “It’s Linnet’s prerogative, Benedict, not yours.”
Reluctantly he nodded, smiling at Linnet. “Forgive me, I didn’t mean…”
She stopped his apology by hugging him briefly. Then she turned to survey Venetia, who wore a pale-pink satin gown, a dazzling array of Hartley diamonds, and a Grecian stephane in her dark hair. A white feather boa trailed casually to the floor, and she looked very lovely, the satin of the gown perfectly outlining her figure, but without the sort of impropriety that would have raised eyebrows.
Linnet went to her, taking both her hands. “You look absolutely wonderful.”
“And you, you wretch, look divine. I wish more than ever that you’d stayed in the Lake District. Perhaps I won’t invite you to dinner after all, for you’ll steal all the praise, and when I hold one of my famous dinner parties, I like to be the center of attention.” Venetia smiled at her, but then looked more serious. “You are sure Nicholas didn’t upset you?”
“Perfectly sure. Don’t let’s talk about him, or it will spoil the evening. Tell me, are we to be a threesome tonight?”
Venetia cast a cross look at Benedict. “No, it seems my dear brother has seen fit to include Freddy Grainger in our party. We’re to be joined at the theater, and no doubt the bonds of matrimony will be rattled in my ears again.” She tweaked the boa, glancing at the clock. “Isn’t it time we left? The streets near the theater always become such a crush on first nights.”
Benedict retrieved his tricorn, putting it on, then he turned to his sister. “Venetia, you may speak airily about Freddy’s wish to marry you, but he is a fine catch, and if he should see you giving glances to that damned hack of a poet…”
Venetia’s hazel eyes flashed angrily. “I intend to manage my life as I see fit, Benedict, and I suggest you stop worrying about my affairs and turn your full attention to your own.” Humming, she walked away across the entrance hall and out to the waiting barouche.
An awkward silence fell on the drawing room, then he gave Linnet a rather sheepish smile. “Am I overstepping the mark?”
“Well, look at it from Venetia’s point of view. She’s a free agent, her own mistress, and you suddenly come back into her life after years of absence, expecting her to toe your line. It’s hardly likely to go down well, is it?”
“She should accept Freddy.”
“In your opinion.”
“And in yours, if I’m not mistaken.”
She smiled. “I happen to think she and Freddy would do well together, but I don’t make the error of pressing her on the point. Now then, are we going to the theater, or not?”
“We are.” He offered her his arm. “And I promise to hold my tongue tonight, Coleridge or no Coleridge.”
Linnet said nothing more, and together they emerged from the house to join Venetia in the barouche.