The duchess’s wheelchair could be heard long before it appeared in the quadrangle, emerging from the porch pushed by a strong footman. The bright sunlight seemed to dazzle the old lady for a moment, and she shielded her eyes with a hand clad in a black lace fingerless mitten. She wore somber charcoal-gray silk, a rather dull color for the day of the summer ball, but then her visage was scarcely cheering either, for her lips were pursed in a particularly sour manner and her eyes bore an expression which boded ill for anyone who happened to cross her.
As Bryony waited with Delphine beside the open barouche, ready to leave for the water party, she was suddenly reminded of Felix on the day he had returned from London. His expression then had been exactly as his mother’s was now—mean, spiteful, and filled with the hardness of one who easily bore grudges, and who did not lightly forget any insult, imagined or otherwise.
The chair halted before the two young women and the duchess glanced briefly at her daughter, hardly lingering on the turquoise sprigged-muslin dress, the pale pink velvet jockey hat and trailing white scarf, or the unbuttoned pink spencer which so neatly revealed the many golden chains she wore around her neck. With a slight sniff, which signified to Bryony that all was not well between mother and daughter, the duchess waved Delphine into the carriage. Delphine obeyed, her face unsmiling, and when she was seated, she kept her head averted so that she would not accidentally catch her mother’s eye again.
The duchess watched her for a moment, her thin fingers tapping irritably on the silver handle of her cane. “Don’t think to play the high-and-mighty with me, my lady, for you are hardly in a position to do so. I am extremely displeased with you, and your brother is entirely right to censure you for what you have so foolishly tried to do.”
Delphine’s cheeks colored a little, but she still did not look at the upright figure in the chair. Bryony glanced from one to the other, guessing straightaway that the ill feeling had arisen because of Delphine’s offer to settle Liskillen’s debts, an offer which Felix had overheard when hiding away in the conservatory the night before. That was why he had been so angry with his sister the night before, and could only be why the duchess was offended with her now.
Then the duchess seemed to forget her daughter, turning her gaze upon Bryony instead. Her cold eyes moved slowly over the yellow-and-white-striped lawn gown, the white fringed shawl with its border of embroidered yellow flowers, and the straw bonnet with its especially wide ribbons. “Somewhat provincial garb for an elegant water party, missy, or perhaps you do not think so.”
“My wardrobe has not yet arrived from London, your grace. I have only two gowns—”
“I have been informed exactly what went on at Tremont last night,” interrupted the duchess frostily, “and I confess to complete astonishment that my nephew should still look upon you with favor. You made a great deal of mischief at the assembly, and you did it quite willfully, from all accounts.”
“I caused nothing.”
“Silence! My information is reliable, missy, and I know at whose feet the blame may be laid! You have caused nothing but trouble ever since your arrival, and I wish with all my heart that even at this late stage my nephew would see you for what you really are, a scheming, ill-bred adventuress of mediocre taste and little talent for anything except scandal. But I doubt if he will, not if his latest conduct is anything to judge upon, and so tonight I must suffer the supreme humiliation of seeing his ring placed upon your finger, and I must endure this insult beneath my own roof! If he was not my dear sister’s only child, I would have disowned him for what he has done to his family’s pride and dignity.”
At that moment Felix’s bay thoroughbred was brought from the stableyard, and almost immediately he came out of the house. He wore a light blue coat and off-white breeches, and his top hat was tipped back slightly on his dark curls.
He gave his sister a cool nod and bent to kiss his mother on the cheek before quickly mounting the horse and preparing to accompany the barouche to the party, it being the custom for the ladies to drive and the gentlemen to ride to these occasions. As soon as he was mounted, he looked down at Bryony, but she did not turn toward him for even a moment; she would not forgive him for all that he had said and done, but especially not for the forceful advances he had made the night before.
As the barouche proceeded smartly down through the park, Felix only once maneuvered his horse alongside as if he would speak to Bryony, but she gave him a look so cold and discouraging that he hesitated and then allowed his horse to fall a little way behind the carriage again.
Delphine said not a word throughout the short journey to the lakeside. Bryony felt very uncomfortable, for she had tried earlier to set matters right, but to no avail; it seemed that the second refusal of the offer the night before had caused deep offense, and nothing Bryony said or did now would soften the atmosphere which had come between them.
That short journey was the worst Bryony had yet endured since arriving in England, worse even than the evening before when she had traveled to and from Tremont alone with Sebastian, and she was almost relieved when the site chosen for Petra’s party was in view.
The tide was high in the lake and the water already covered with a variety of little pleasure boats, ribboned posies fixed to their prows and garlands draped around their sides. More boats waited in rows close to the shore, ready to be pulled in whenever the guests desired to use them, while a little way out on the water a large barge had been anchored. On it an orchestra was playing, the pretty music drifting clearly to the shore, where people strolled among the trees or displayed themselves gracefully upon the many cushions and rugs set out upon the grass.
Swathes of pink satin had been draped through the branches, and the breeze fluttered through it, rippling the costly material and making it flap like flags. There were flowers everywhere, placed in buckets which had been sunk into the ground, so it seemed as if this was some enchanted place where roses, carnations, delphiniums, dahlias, lilies, lupins, and chrysanthemums all bloomed together, springing from the ground in full flower.
Long tables covered with starched white cloths were set to one side, groaning beneath the weight of the magnificent cold feast Petra’s chefs had provided. There were cold meats, pies, shellfish of every description, salmon mousses of a particularly splendid appearance, cheese, salads, breads, and fruit, to say nothing of a seemingly endless selection of cold sweets, including sorbets, each one nestling on a tray of broken ice. Footmen dispensed chilled champagne as if it had been drawn from a spring, and already the atmosphere was lighthearted, the gentlemen laughing and the ladies smiling, their parasols twirling. The party seemed set to be yet another of Petra’s famous successes.
The track leading to the waterside site was cluttered with carriages, while in a clearing nearby the gentlemen’s horses were being looked after by a small army of Tremont grooms. Bryony was looking toward this clearing when suddenly she noticed Sebastian. He was standing in conversation with several army officers. He was taller than his companions and had for the moment discarded his top hat so that the sun shone directly on his golden hair. There was something very distinguished about him, from his undisputed good looks to the elegance of his clothes and the grace with which he wore them. His coat was brown and his breeches the palest of fawns; his silk cravat had been tied in a loose, informal way; and spurs gleamed at the heels of his highly polished boots.
Almost as if he sensed her gaze, he turned and their eyes met. He excused himself from those he was with and began to walk toward the barouche.
Felix had already dismounted and was handing Delphine down. He then held his hand up to Bryony, and she very reluctantly accepted. He glanced across at Sebastian and his fingers tightened urgently around hers. “I must speak privately with you, Bryony.”
“No, sir.”
“Please, for I must apologize for my actions last night—”
“Consider yourself to have apologized then, sir,” she replied coolly, uncomfortably aware that Sebastian might again misconstrue what he was seeing.
“Please, Bryony,” insisted Felix, “is it so very much to ask? You will be safe, I promise you, but please agree to speak with me a little later.”
“Very well,” she said hastily, “but only for a moment and only where others may see us at all times.”
He nodded, releasing her. He withdrew at the very moment Sebastian came to her, and she was aware of the flush on her cheeks as she turned. “Good afternoon, Sir Sebastian.”
He watched Felix disappear among the other guests. “Good afternoon, Bryony,” he murmured. “You look very fresh and charming in yellow and white.” He offered her his arm.
She saw many faces she had seen the evening before as they circulated, and many that she had not. Word of events at the assembly had evidently spread very rapidly and she was aware of a certain sly curiosity on many faces, that curiosity becoming out-and-out inquisitiveness when at last she and Petra came face to face on the shore, just as Petra was alighting from one of the little pleasure boats.
She looked very bright in marigold silk, the gown having no adornment at all save the richness of its material, and little white ribbons trailed prettily from the knot of hair at the back of her head. She was laughing with her gentleman companion, but her laughter died away as she saw Bryony. Her glance was decidedly cool. “Good afternoon, Miss St. Charles, how very ... er, charming you look.” The pause was very deliberate, bringing attention to Bryony’s Liskillen clothes.
“Good afternoon, my lady, how very sweet of you to say so,” replied Bryony, glancing at Sebastian. Today his mistress had been the guilty one, but was there any anger on his face? No, there wasn’t.
Petra smiled a little and then turned to her companion again and they strolled away toward the tables.
Bryony could sense the disappointment of the guests who had witnessed the brief exchange, for they had evidently been hoping for a repetition of the evening before, but she wasn’t concerned with what they were thinking, she was concerned about Sebastian’s apparent indifference to his mistress’s rudeness toward his intended wife. Oh, how different a matter it would have been had the wife been rude to the mistress!
He did not seem aware of her anger as they strolled on, for suddenly he turned to her. “You appear very collected today, Bryony.”
Nothing could have been calculated to goad her more. “I’m always collected, sir, until I am provoked,” she replied icily.
“Provoked? You’re referring to last night, no doubt. It seems to me that there was a great deal of provocation on all sides. Let’s hope it doesn’t happen again.”
She halted furiously. “Yes, sir, do let us hope that, but then, it will rather depend upon you, won’t it? To say nothing of the countess.”
His face was very still. “So nothing I said last night has changed your mind: you still believe Petra is my mistress.”
“I have the evidence of my own eyes to tell me that you are lying.”
His face was angry now, and he drew her farther away from the nearest guests. “You cannot possibly have seen anything to prove I am lying, because I am telling the truth!”
“But I have, sir, I have seen a copy of the countess’s loving letter to you.”
He seemed taken aback. “What letter?”
“The one she wrote after you had explained to her the real reason for wanting to marry me.”
“There was no such letter.”
“She wrote it, the writing was hers.”
“Was? Where is this letter now?”
“It was accidentally destroyed.”
“So its authenticity cannot be proved.”
“I do not need it to be proved, sir, for I know it was genuine. It was hidden in my reticule during the night I spent in Falmouth on first arriving from Liskillen. It was couched in most intimate and loving terms and left no doubt as to the nature of your friendship with the author. It also told of your great desire to succeed to your kinsman’s fortune, but that in order to do so you must first find a suitable wife, one who would not object to or make trouble about the way of life you intend to pursue to the full once the marriage has taken place.”
“So that is where that particular story originated,” he breathed angrily. “It wasn’t Felix, it was you!”
“I told him, yes, but I did not originate the story, sir, you originated it yourself when you told your sly mistress! She will do all in her power to stop you from marrying me—that much was obvious from the tone of the letter—but then, it isn’t as if you intend the marriage to be all sweetness and light anyway, is it? I am to be a cipher, Sir Sebastian, no matter what you might pretend to the contrary, for when you say that I will be your wife ‘in every sense of the word,’ you merely mean that you will consummate the marriage and thus deny me a legal loophole which might deny you your ill-gotten extra inheritance!”
“None of this is true!”
“Oh, spare me any more, for I know that it is, I knew it last night when you saw fit to blame me for everything your mistress caused to happen. You deny that she is your lover, but you defend her at every turn. Of course the letter was true, and I was a fool ever to hesitate for a moment, wondering if just maybe I should believe you. You are a convincing liar, Sir Sebastian Sheringham!”
“Don’t go too far, Bryony,” he warned, “for I will not be called a liar!”
“Don’t you tell me not to go too far, sirrah,” she breathed, “not you who have had the arrogance this morning to praise me for being collected! Collected? Since my arrival in this place I have been provoked most cruelly, the victim of your mistress’s jealous spite! First there was the letter to Felix, and then the one hidden in my reticule, then the miniature which replaced the one I carried of you! There was the so-called accident with the trained lurcher, an accident after which I saw running away the same cloaked figure I had interrupted in my room in Falmouth! Oh, she was clever then, wasn’t she? How smooth to liken the whole thing to an incident in a book! She did that because she knew I’d seen that figure, and wished to discredit anything I might say about it!
“And you supported her, Sir Sebastian, you supported everything she told you, ridiculing me when I attempted to tell you the truth! Last night she did everything she could to make a fool of me: she had her footman spill wine over my gown, she had one of her gentleman friends wreck a dancing set and make out that the fault was mine, and then she had three more gentlemen come and each claim I had promised them the same dance. I wasn’t responsible for any of those things, sir, but I was blamed all the same. You blamed me, sir, and you were angry when I at last turned upon her! I’ve endured so very much and I’ve been more unhappy than you will ever know or care, and so perhaps it’s small wonder that I fleetingly turned to your cousin. Oh, I do not deny it, for what point is there? Besides, you no doubt believe I’ve graced his bed every night since the first—and why should you not believe it, when you will be judging everyone else by your own low standards?”
Tears hung brightly on her lashes and her lips were trembling. “I came to England determined to do all I could to be a credit to you—I was going to be a Lady Sheringham you could escort with pride.” She gave a short, ironic laugh. “I was going to try to turn my cold marriage of convenience into something much more, I was even going to try to love you and earn your love in return if I possibly could. I have had all that slowly squeezed from me, and I can now only see the marriage for what it will be, a hollow thing, made hollow because you will take everything from it and give nothing in return. I know all this about you and still I will go through with it, but don’t ever again prate to me about how collected I am! Don’t patronize me, Sir Sebastian Sheringham, for I’m not the fool you and your mistress appear to think I am, and I’m no longer prepared to let you go on thinking it!”
The tears were wet on her cheeks now and suddenly she could bear it no more. She gathered her skirts and hurried away through the gathering, drawing many surprised glances as she did so.
Her precipitate flight gave Sebastian no time to reply and no time to prevent her from leaving. And as she hurried away, she did not once look back.