Lord Darleston had been a trifle over optimistic in thinking that the park would be bereft of all the Ton that morning. At least two other people had seen him exercising the mare, and had also observed his conversation with the Ffolliots. The murmurs of interest which followed this episode came inevitably to the ears of Lady Caroline, who began to be seriously worried. Worried enough to be betrayed into making some rather snide remarks to Miss Ffolliot at a ball. Miss Ffolliot did not attempt to reply but simply looked extremely puzzled.
Quite apart from all the gossip, Lady Caroline had noticed an even greater degree of detachment in her lover than was normal. Never one to indulge in displays of demonstrative emotion, Darleston seemed to her to be more aloof and untouchable than ever. It was as though his mind was far away, even when he made love to her with all his usual skill and expertise. Lady Caroline turned various schemes over in her mind and finally decided on a course of definite action, for which she prepared by ensuring that Darleston did not see her privately for over a week.
The first direct step in her campaign was a discreetly worded invitation bidding his lordship to supper one evening. She knew that she would have to step warily. Darleston was neither to lead or drive. If he once suspected what she was up to then she might as well give up. Hence the supper invitation. A delightfully romantic evening à deux with his favourite wines and food would serve her turn. Afterwards, when he was in a relaxed mood, she could begin her task of distracting him from immediate thoughts of matrimony. Convincing him that she would be a suitable wife was much further on in her plans!
Accordingly Lord Darleston presented himself for a late supper on the designated evening, in a mood of agreeable anticipation. Lady Caroline kept a talented chef, and knew his taste in wine to a nicety, besides which her personal attractions were definitely alluring. He had seen little of Caroline recently, except at parties where perforce discretion was necessary. It did not occur to him that the lady had deliberately made quite sure he had had no opportunity to see her alone for some time. Better for her plans if he was eager to see her and enjoy her favours, she reasoned.
Darleston entered the drawing room to find Lady Caroline attended by her companion, Miss Jameson, a depressed-looking creature of about sixty. She was a cousin of the late Sir Neville Daventry and was supposed to lend an air of respectability to her relation’s ménage. In reality Lady Caroline did very much as she pleased, dispensing with Miss Jameson’s chaperonage whenever it suited her convenience.
Darleston greeted both ladies politely, and was especially kind to the older lady. ‘Miss Jameson! What a pleasure to see you. I hope you are keeping well?’ It was part of his charm that he was always kind to those less well off than himself. Kind, but never patronising, and Miss Jameson, as always, responded to his friendly greeting with a smile that very few ever saw.
‘I am very well, Lord Darleston. And you? We have not seen you for an age!’ she said.
Lady Caroline cut in at this point, ‘Yes, I am sure Lord Darleston is well, Cousin Lucy, or he would not be here! Now, we wouldn’t want to keep you from your bed at this late hour, so we will bid you goodnight!’
This abrupt dismissal brought a slight frown to Darleston’s brow, not because he was eager for Miss Jameson’s company, but because he found the ruthless manner of it faintly distasteful. Lady Caroline did not notice the frown. Like many self-centred people, she was unable to comprehend that anyone would put up with an inconvenient companion from a combination of good manners and kindness.
Miss Jameson appeared unsurprised by the curtailing of her evening. She had known perfectly well from the outset that Caroline would get rid of her as quickly as possible. The two years since Sir Neville’s death had left her few illusions about her charge’s character, and she had no doubts at all about the nature of Lady Caroline’s relationship with Lord Darleston. It was certainly not her place to remonstrate with Lady Caroline, she reflected, but it seemed a dreadful thing to see such a fine man as Lord Darleston in her coils.
‘I shall bid you goodnight, then, dear Caroline, and you, my lord,’ she responded in a dignified manner, which afforded no hint of the sense of hurt she felt. It would give her great pleasure, she thought, to put a spoke in Lady Caroline’s wheel. She was not quite sure what Caroline was up to, but she knew her charge well enough to know that something was afoot.
Darleston went immediately to the door and opened it for her, saying, ‘Goodnight, Miss Jameson. It is most unkind of you to deprive us of your company. Perhaps I shall be luckier on another occasion!’
She looked up at him in wry amusement as she exited the room and her soft reply reached only him. ‘Most unlikely, my lord! Goodnight, and God bless you!’
After shutting the door behind her, Darleston turned back to his hostess, who looked a little miffed. ‘Really, Peter dear, I cannot imagine why you bother with Cousin Lucy! I only keep her here to silence all the tabbies!’
Darleston was silent for a moment, and then said with an assumption of lightness, ‘Kindness costs nothing, Caroline, and I think her situation as a dependant cannot be a happy one.’
Although she could not understand his attitude, Lady Caroline was quick enough to realise that she had erred in some way. She glided across to him and twined her arms around his neck, ‘Oh, Peter! ’Tis not that I meant to be unkind to poor Lucy! But I have seen so little of you recently that I longed to have you all to myself!’ ‘The blue eyes gazed up at him meltingly from under long curling lashes. A provocative smile was on her lips, deepening as she felt his arms slide about her waist.
Darleston looked down at her with a faint smile. Perhaps it was as well to let Miss Jameson have an early night, he thought as he kissed Lady Caroline. Her response was immediate and demanding. Nothing loath, Darleston tightened his arms about her and set about the enjoyable task of satisfying her obvious desire. His own physical desire was easily a match for hers, but as always some small part of him remained detached and indifferent.
After a few moments he released himself carefully and said, ‘Perhaps we should have supper first, Caroline! Otherwise I fear your chef’s talents will be quite unappreciated in comparison with your own charms!’
Satisfied that she had well and truly aroused him, Lady Caroline agreed. ‘Whatever you wish, my lord. Just as long as the supper does not spoil your appetite!’ She cast a meaning glance over her shoulder as she led the way to the small table set for two. A side-table nearby held a small but choice supper and several decanters.
As they sat down Lady Caroline said languidly, ‘Do you know, Peter—except, of course, for your presence—London is so dreadfully dull at the moment? One gets so tired of seeing the same faces and hearing the same gossip! I declare it is beyond anything!’
Darleston was amused. ‘My dear, are you contemplating a repairing lease in the country? I fear you will find that even more dull!’
A shudder of horror greeted this suggestion. ‘The country! At this season! What an insupportable idea! Of course not! I am thinking of going to Paris. I have friends there, you know. And it seems such a long time since I visited France! And Paris is always so gay! Will you have a little duckling, Peter?’ She judged that she had said enough for the time being.
Having accepted the duckling, and some asparagus, Darleston returned to the subject of Lady Caroline’s projected sojourn in Paris. ‘And what will be so different about Paris, my sweet? New clothes, admirers? New gossip?’
She gave a tinkling laugh. ‘But of course, my dear! All those things! Now, enough of me! Tell me what you have been doing to keep you away from me all these days!’
Darleston hesitated for a moment. The last thing he wanted to do was confide in Caroline! ‘Oh, just catching up with old friends and seeing to some business,’ he said easily. ‘Carstares and Carrington are in town at the moment. I’ve seen a lot of them.’
‘Do you know, I even heard that the three of you had been seen at Almack’s?’ she said daringly. ‘Surely a most unlikely place to find any of you! Let alone all three together! You must have raised such hopes in the hearts of all the young ladies and their fond mamas!’ This last was followed with another tinkling laugh.
Sipping her wine, she watched his reaction carefully. She was perfectly aware that practically every woman in town with a marriageable daughter would be in full cry after such a prize as Darleston. She was also tolerably certain that this would be irking her lover almost unbearably.
His quick scowl confirmed her suspicions, and again she changed the subject. ‘Do tell me. How does Mr Carstares, and Lord Carrington, of course?’
‘Oh, they are well enough. Carrington has gone down to Bath to visit his young sister for a few days. She is at school there and has been unwell.’
‘Poor child,’ said Lady Caroline, thinking it was as well that one of Darleston’s close friends was out of town. Carstares and Carrington together might manage to spike her guns!
She kept the conversation to neutral topics until the end of the meal.
When Darleston reached for the brandy decanter she rose to her feet and said with a smile, ‘Perhaps you would excuse me briefly, Peter.’
He stood up and said, ‘Only very briefly, Caroline! I’m sure you would not wish to keep me waiting!’ After escorting Lady Caroline to the door and closing it behind her Darleston returned to the table and poured himself a glass of the late Sir Neville’s very fine old brandy. Sipping it reverently, he sat down to give some thought to Caroline’s scheme to visit Paris. He suspected that her main reason for finding London dull was simply that she had been subtly but effectively ostracised by quite a number of influential society hostesses.
Caroline had not been quite discreet enough with one or two of her lovers. It was even said that she had entertained a number of gentlemen at her Scottish home during her period of strict mourning. The Patronesses of Almack’s had let it be quietly understood that for her to apply for vouchers would be useless. Nothing was said openly, of course, but Lady Caroline did not make the attempt. To be publicly denied would be insupportable.
Although she vowed that such entertainments were insipid and not at all to her taste, Darleston was perfectly aware that she wanted that entrée, even if only for the pleasure of spurning it. Obviously if she were in Paris there was no question of Almack’s, and her reputation would not be such a barrier where she was not so well known.
The excellence of the brandy gave rise to more thought, and to a great degree mitigated against his lordship’s rising impatience at the inordinate length of time Lady Caroline was taking. It did not occur to him that she wanted him to be extremely eager or that she wanted to give him time to think over her plans.
It suddenly struck Darleston that if Caroline decamped for Paris it would be deucedly inconvenient for him. He enjoyed her favours very much and was loath to go to all the effort of finding and setting up a new mistress. His own married experience led him to eschew all married women. Something in his nature revolted at the thought of offending another man as he had been offended. Unfortunately his preference was for women of his own order, which therefore meant a widow, and he was damned if he could think of another likely candidate to fill the position which would be left vacant by Lady Caroline’s departure.
He had no illusions about the quality of Caroline’s affection for him. She might go to Paris alone but she would certainly not return so. Not that she needed a protector in financial terms for she was quite well off! In fact that was one of the things that Darleston found agreeable about the relationship. It was conducted on equal terms with none of the necessity to buy expensive presents to keep his mistress happy.
He was just beginning to toy with the notion of following Lady Caroline to Paris when she returned. Her elegant gown of deep blue satin had been replaced by a dressing gown which consisted of floating layers of pink gauze. It was quite evident to Darleston that her ladyship was not wearing a stitch beneath it. He said nothing, but tossed back the last of his brandy with scant respect for so noble a vintage and stood up.
Lady Caroline glided to the sofa and seated herself with an inviting smile. The dressing gown fell open, exposing one elegant white leg which Caroline did not bother to cover. Darleston shrugged himself out of his coat and removed his cravat without taking his eyes from her face. He walked over to the sofa unhurriedly, but Lady Caroline could see the tension in every line of his athletic body. He stood before her, looking down at her voluptuous curves with increasing lust.
‘Do you like my dressing gown?’ she asked provocatively. ‘It’s a new one.’
He answered lightly enough, ‘Very elegant my sweet, but I’ll appreciate it more when I’ve torn it off you!’
The following morning Darleston slept late, not having returned home until four in the morning. His lordship’s valet, Mr Fordham, was finally summoned from the servants’ hall by his master’s bell at midday.
Fordham found his lordship fully dressed except for the finishing touches to his cravat. He waited quietly, not wishing to disturb so delicate and important an operation.
Darleston caught his eye in the mirror, ‘Ah, there you are Fordham. Good morning, or rather, since I perceive the day to be advanced, good afternoon!’
‘Good afternoon, my lord. I trust your lordship enjoyed an agreeable evening?’ replied Fordham very politely.
The long, powerful fingers on the cravat stilled in the act of setting a crease and the brown eyes glanced into the mirror again. ‘Very agreeable, Fordham,’ answered the Earl gravely.
‘I am glad to hear it my lord. May I remind your lordship that you had promised to wait on Lady Edenhope this morning?’ asked Fordham.
‘You may remind me, and you may also tell me why the devil you didn’t awaken me over an hour ago to this purpose!’ said Darleston, carefully examining the results of his labours.
‘Your lordship may remember that upon the last occasion I ventured to do such a thing you hurled a boot at my head with great accuracy and consigned me to a place of extreme heat!’ was the unperturbed reply.
Darleston, satisfied that his cravat would pass muster, swung around with a distinct twinkle in his eye and asked curiously, ‘Why do you bear with me Fordham?’
The valet answered simply, ‘I like you, my lord, and even if you did hit me with the boot you apologised later and informed me that you would prefer I remained in your employ rather than seeking the post you had recommended in the heat of the moment.’
Darleston chuckled and said, ‘Very well, Fordham! Did you by any chance send a note round to Lady Edenhope?’
‘Certainly, my lord. She sent this note back for you.’ He handed Darleston a sealed billet.
‘Thank you, Fordham.’ He broke the seal and read the enclosed missive.
My Dear Darleston
I shall forbear to ask exactly how you amused yourself last night if only you will have the goodness to be my escort tonight! My little protégée is unwell and my lord has gone into the country so I am bereft of a companion for the concert at the Hanover Square Rooms this evening. I know you love music and the programme this evening is rather lovely: all Mozart. So if you feel you can bear my company I shall look forward to seeing you this evening.
All my love, Louisa Edenhope.
Darleston grinned. He wouldn’t put it past Lady Edenhope to know perfectly well where he had been last night. He glanced at Fordham and said, ‘You may send a footman round to tell Lady Edenhope that I shall be delighted to be her escort this evening.’
‘Very good, my lord. I will go myself, if your lordship has no further need for me this afternoon.’
‘Yourself, Fordham?’ said Darleston in surprise. ‘You are welcome to do so if you wish, but why?’
‘Some exercise will do me good, my lord. Mr Meadows has informed me that I am getting fat!’ There was a slight hint of indignation in Fordham’s tone of voice.
‘I see,’ said Darleston, somehow preserving a straight face. ‘You have my permission to take a walk every day if you deem it necessary. You know my routine. No doubt you can pick a time which will be mutually acceptable to us both. That will be all for now. You will lay out my clothes later, of course.’
‘Naturally, my lord.’ Fordham left on his message and Darleston gave himself up to laughter. No doubt Meadows, the old butler, was enjoying himself at Fordham’s expense, but there was no denying that Fordham was starting to look a little tubby!
Darleston did enjoy the concert that evening. He found Lady Edenhope’s company restful, and it was pleasant to sit back and listen to the music. One of the things he missed most about his mother was her music. She had been a fine singer and had played the pianoforte with great talent. There had always been music in his home and he missed it greatly. He thought idly to himself that he must try and choose a musical wife.
During the interval he remained with Lady Edenhope, chatting about the performance. Two of Mozart’s string quartets had been played, and Lady Edenhope felt that a better balance of the parts had been needed.
They returned to their seats for the second half. ‘That cellist was by far too loud in places, Peter. Particularly in the slow movements!’ she asserted, and then realised that Darleston was not listening. He was staring at a lady she had already noted as being most oddly dressed.
All in severe black and heavily veiled, the lady sat two rows ahead of them and slightly to the right. She was escorted by a young person who was obviously a maidservant and had made no effort to speak to anyone during the interval. Looking at her more closely, Lady Edenhope came to the conclusion that she was quite young. The severe black was extremely flattering to an already slender figure.
Darleston continued to stare until his companion gave him a gentle nudge and asked, ‘Do you know that girl, Peter?’
‘What…? Oh, I’m sorry, Aunt Louisa! I wasn’t really attending,’ he apologised.
‘I noticed,’ she said dryly. ‘Is the young lady an acquaintance of yours?’
‘I’m not quite sure,’ said Darleston slowly. ‘I think I know who it is, but I can’t for the life of me imagine what she is doing dressed like that!’
‘Most odd!’ agreed Lady Edenhope. ‘Oh, here is the orchestra. We had better stop chattering.’
They sat back to enjoy the two symphonies which followed. The last one was Mozart’s final essay in this genre. Darleston had never heard the work before and was taken aback by the power of the music, particularly in the final movement. Here the closely knit interweaving of the melodies was utterly exhilarating, and when the end came Darleston felt that he wanted to leap up and yell like a boy. He contented himself with clapping vigorously.
The slender lady in black appeared to be similarly affected. She was leaning forward, applauding enthusiastically, and Darleston became more and more certain that he knew her.
Turning to Lady Edenhope as the audience began to make its way to the doors, Darleston said, ‘Would you excuse me for a moment, Aunt Louisa? I should like to speak to that lady.’
‘Of course, Peter,’ she replied. ‘I shall wait here.’
Darleston made his way forward against the crowd, nodding to acquaintances as he went. The girl in black had not moved from her seat, but seemed to be waiting for the crush to disperse. No one spoke to her, although many curious glances were cast in her direction.
She did not notice Darleston until he sat down beside her and said, ‘Good evening, Miss Ffolliot! Did you enjoy the concert?’ Several heads turned at once as he identified the mysterious lady.
There came a startled gasp and she swung around towards him. What he could see of the lovely face behind the veil suggested shock and consternation. Rather surprised, he said, ‘I’m sorry. I did not mean to startle you.’
For a split second she hesitated, and then said, ‘It is Lord Darleston, is it not?’
He smiled and said, ‘Quite correct! Although I am surprised you can see a thing through that veil!’
‘But I…’ She stopped, appeared to recollect herself, and said with an assumption of lightness, ‘Well, my lord, you have lost me my wager!’
‘Miss Ffolliot, I most humbly beg your pardon! What wager was that?’ he asked in amusement.
‘Why, that no one would recognise me like this! I did not think it possible. And indeed I do not think anyone else did know me!’ she said, laughing.
Darleston chuckled and said, ‘I’m sure they didn’t. Certainly my companion Lady Edenhope did not. But I’m afraid that I gave the game away by speaking your name so loudly.’
She shrugged her shoulders and said surprisingly, ‘Oh, well, I dare say it does not matter too much now. Did you enjoy the concert?’
‘Yes, very much indeed. Especially the last symphony. I had not heard it before.’
‘Had you not?’ she asked. ‘I have once. I think it is my favourite of his works. The last movement—I wish it could go on for ever!’
‘That movement is particularly splendid,’ he agreed. ‘What is it that you like about it?’
She thought carefully for a moment and then said, ‘It’s all the melodies, I think. You know, how he fits them all together, especially at the end in the coda, where they seem to be tumbling over one another. It makes me want to run and jump. It makes me forget…’ Again she stopped herself in mid sentence.
‘Forget?’ he asked curiously. ‘What can a child your age wish to forget?’
‘Oh, nothing really, my lord,’ she answered awkwardly. ‘I really should be going now.’ She turned to the maid. ‘Anna?’
‘The crowd is gone, miss. Just his lordship, and a lady seems to be waiting for him,’ was the reply.
Darleston was very puzzled by now. Wishing to prolong the encounter, he asked, ‘May Lady Edenhope and I escort you home, Miss Ffolliot? I assure you it would be no trouble.’
She shook her head firmly. ‘Thank you, my lord, but the carriage will be waiting for me.’
Sensing that she would really prefer to be alone, Darleston did not press her, but said, ‘Then I had better return to Lady Edenhope! Goodnight, Miss Ffolliot, it was delightful to run across you again so unexpectedly. Please convey my regards to your parents, and of course to your dog!’
‘Oh, Gelert!’ She choked on a giggle. ‘Not even I would dare try to bring him to a concert! Goodnight, my lord! If I had to lose my wager, I’m glad it was to you!’
‘You are very gallant, Miss Ffolliot! Goodnight!’ Darleston returned to Lady Edenhope, who was looking distinctly amused.
‘Well, you have stirred up the gossips! Was it really Miss Ffolliot?’ she asked as they went out into Hanover Square.
Before Darleston could answer, a bluff, hearty voice was heard from a carriage. ‘Hello Darleston. Was that Miss Ffolliot? Charming lass! Good for you, boy!’
Darleston blinked into the amiable countenance of old Lord Warboys, who tipped him a knowing wink and continued to his coachman, ‘Well, drive on, man! Drive on! Catch me death of cold!’ The carriage clattered off, leaving Lord Darleston staring.
Several more encounters of a similar nature served to finish the job begun by Lord Warboys’ example of well-meant but tactless jocularity. By the time Darleston had escorted Lady Edenhope back to Half Moon Street he had quite made up his mind to end all the gossip and speculation at least temporarily.
Five days later Lady Caroline Daventry left London for Paris. Three days after that Lord Darleston was reliably reported to be on his way to Dover to catch the next packet. Society shrugged its collective shoulders and forgot all about the momentary excitement raised by Darleston’s supposed pursuit of the lovely Miss Ffolliot and invented other gossip for its amusement.
Lord Carrington, returning to town, shook his head at George Carstares and said, ‘It will be the same next season! If only the silly fool doesn’t take it into his head to marry Caroline Daventry!’
George looked up, shocked, from his copy of the Gazette. ‘Don’t think he’s that taken with her, do you?’
Carrington looked cynical and said, ‘I’d be prepared to lay odds that’s what she’s after! As for Peter, he seems to think that all women are much the same as each other. In that mood, there’s no saying what he might do!’
‘Good God!’ said George, staring in disbelief at the Gazette.
‘What’s that?’ asked Carrington, momentarily diverted.
‘Says here that Mr John Ffolliot has been killed in a driving accident!’ answered George.
‘Lord, that’s bad. Young Geoffrey isn’t up to much. Doubt he’ll make the grade. He’ll be running through his inheritance in no time! Hard on Mrs Ffolliot. I believe they were devoted to each other.’
George nodded, ‘Sad. Oh, well. Just have to wait and see what happens when Peter comes back. No good us taking a trip to Paris. He’d be furious if he thought we were checking up on him!’
‘Can’t say I’d blame him,’ said Carrington. ‘He’s two and thirty and ought to be capable of looking after himself, even if he is an ass at times!’