LONDON, DECEMBER 1859
It was different now. Different from how it had been this morning when Oliver Temple’s note arrived on her breakfast tray. The stiff white envelope was propped against the teapot with her name, Miss Carina Temple, scrawled in her uncle’s hand. Carina waited until she was up and dressed before she opened the letter. There was no ‘be so kind’ or ‘at your convenience’, only a single line summoning her to attend upon him at three o’clock of the afternoon.
All the way there, Carina promised herself she would be civil. Her uncle, Oliver, was also her guardian with total control over her finances. Their dislike for each other was mutual, but on no account must she lose her temper. Oliver’s brusque note had nothing to do with the other matter, she was sure.
The carriage turned the corner of Hyde Park and a recent conversation flooded her mind.
‘What possible harm is there? Lord Danby’s lonely with his wife tied up at Court,’ Carina had argued with her aunt, Alice. ‘We keep each other company, that’s all. There’s no impropriety in our friendship.’
‘It is nothing to the purpose. Lord Danby is a married man.’
‘He has always behaved impeccably.’
‘That’s not the point! My brother, Oliver, will come to hear of it and I will be held responsible. If you refuse to consider your own reputation, please have some consideration for mine!’
Alice had ended the conversation by getting up and going over to the piano. She was upset and played too fast, Carina recalled with a pang of guilt. She was happier when Aunt Alice was content, but she had continued to meet with Danby. Why shouldn’t she? Her long period of mourning was finally at an end and she was starved of life. It was unnatural to be shut up, entombed in black crêpe and seeing no one. The gloomy ritual imposed by society couldn’t bring back her father and, when it was over, Robert Danby had been the first person to take an interest in her. He was self-assured and worldly and she enjoyed his company – at least, that was so, until last week.
The weather had turned cold and Lord Danby escorted her to the picture gallery at Stafford House. He was knowledgeable, pointing out the best paintings and greeting various acquaintances with a nod of the head, not stopping to speak to them. Then, as they walked out of the front door, he slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her to him. Right there in the middle of St James’s Street! Carina freed herself and glared at him.
‘I’m only helping you down the steps, Miss Temple. We don’t want you to slip and twist your pretty ankle, now do we?’
How easily he laughed it off, but Carina was appalled. Just imagine if anyone had seen them! It only took one person and rumour would spread like wildfire. They would be talked about in every salon and ballroom of London. Robert Danby had overstepped the mark, but he wouldn’t be blamed. Oh no, the man was never guilty. His misdemeanour would be shrugged off and her character vilified.
She mustn’t fear the worst, Carina decided as they arrived at the mansion in Belgrave Square. A footman ushered her into her uncle’s study and Oliver Temple did not stand up. He sat behind his desk, indicating the chair opposite with a wave of his hand. Before Carina had time to arrange her skirts, he began.
‘You know why I’ve sent for you?’
‘I expect you wish to talk about my overdraft.’
‘No, Carina, not this time. You’re here to explain your conduct over these last weeks.’
Carina looked her uncle straight in the face. Oliver was a stocky man and had put on weight since she last saw him. Ginger side-whiskers could not hide the folds of his chin and his cheeks were as red as the claret he had consumed over lunch.
‘I refer to your acquaintance with Lord Danby. What do you have to say for yourself?’
‘Nothing. It is entirely my own affair.’
‘There, you’re mistaken.’ Oliver leant forward and placed his hands on the desk. ‘I had words with Lord Danby in White’s club last night.’
He was bluffing, Carina thought. He must be! Robert Danby despised her uncle. He would go out of his way to avoid him. Her heart beat faster and Oliver continued.
‘Rumour has it that you are intent on breaking up his marriage.’
‘I’m surprised you take notice of such gossip.’ Carina made an attempt to sound indifferent. ‘Lord Danby is merely an acquaintance.’
‘Merely an acquaintance? His wife is lady-in-waiting to Her Majesty, does that mean nothing to you?’
‘As I’ve not been presented to the queen, I’ve not the slightest interest in either her or her courtiers.’
She had struck home, Carina saw by the way Oliver’s mouth thinned and he shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Her uncle had no intention of arranging her presentation at Court. He was determined to keep that privilege for his own children.
Oliver picked a letter from his tray and read it through before he placed it face down on the blotter.
‘Has Lord Danby been invited to your home?’
‘No, he has not.’
‘But you accompanied him to Lord Stafford’s house last week, contrary to my sister Alice’s prohibition?’
‘Alice did not prohibit me. She knew nothing of it—’
‘So you deceived your aunt in order to have an assignation with a married man?’
He gave her a hard stare, but Carina had herself in hand. She sat straight, a sea of blue velvet skirts around her, and kept her face blank. So they had been seen! And whoever recognised them, had gone straight to Oliver. But why, Carina wondered? She had no enemies as far as she knew. Who could have informed on her? Certainly not Alice or her friend, Harry Carstairs. They were the two people she trusted most in the world. It was possible Oliver might have had her followed. She wouldn’t put anything past him and now he was speaking again.
‘You’re a great disappointment to me, Carina. Since your father’s demise I’ve done everything in my power to take care of you. How do you repay me? By dragging the family’s name through the mud!’
Carina’s expression did not change, but her lips went white. She couldn’t bear Oliver talking about her father. You pompous little man, she thought. Papa was worth a hundred of you. You’re only my guardian because he died unexpectedly – not because he respected you. Hot words bubbled up and she forced them down for Alice’s sake. Putting her hands on the arms of her chair, she made as if to rise.
‘I will not remain here and be insulted, sir! Please would you order my carriage?’
‘You will stay until I’ve finished and pay attention to what I have to say! News of your liaison with Danby is bandied about by every gossipmonger in London. So much so, I felt obliged to ask His Lordship if there was any truth in the allegations.’
He was trying to catch her out, Carina thought. She didn’t believe him but a knot tightened in her stomach.
‘Lord Danby claims you threw yourself at him and have pursued him relentlessly. He went so far as to describe you as an unscrupulous hussy. What he meant by that, I dread to imagine.’
Oliver was poisonous as a snake and hot colour washed Carina’s cheeks. It was a preposterous allegation. How dare Danby say such a thing when she had ignored his overtures in the beginning and only accepted an invitation for luncheon when his wife was present? Admittedly, it had gone on from there but they both knew the rules. She had broken with Lord Danby immediately after the incident at Stafford House. Since then, his letters had been returned and his calling cards ignored. But none of this was Oliver’s business. Let him think what he liked. She was under no obligation to justify herself.
‘Well, do you deny it?’
Carina fixed her gaze at a point over Oliver’s shoulder, looking at a landscape of cows in a field on the wall behind him.
‘For shame, Carina! You’re a disrespectful young woman!’
Oliver pushed back his chair and stood up. Walking over to the window, he opened the latch and let a stream of cold air into the room. Carina infuriated him and he blamed his brother for her unruly nature. Why John had married a foreigner in the first place, he didn’t know. When Sonia died in childbirth, he had failed to find himself a suitable second English wife to discipline his only child. John may have taught Carina to ride and shoot as well as a man, but she had her way for the asking. As a consequence, she was as wild and wilful as the wind.
This was the age of the self-made man and Oliver Temple was not about to give way to a girl of eighteen. Unlike his older brother, he was the one who had worked, overseeing the cotton mills that provided prosperity for the Temple family. Apart from Melton, the family home, everything he owned had been gained by his own endeavour. Last year he had received a knighthood from the queen and was proud of his success. If Carina thought she could jeopardise all he had achieved on a whim, she was mistaken.
Oliver closed the window and gave himself a moment to study his niece. Carina was striking with her sloping eyes, so like her father’s and sea green as a Russian cat. Her mouth was delicately curved and her copper hair pinned high above her collar to show off her slender neck. She was slim like her Sicilian mother, a small waist accentuated by the tight-fitting jacket. He could understand why a man like Danby might be attracted to her. On the surface, Carina appeared delicate as a spring flower, but he had seen the fire in her eyes moments before. Tempestuous blood ran in her veins and this time she had gone too far.
Carina wondered what Oliver was thinking. The muscles of her face were stiff from keeping still and she lowered her eyes as he returned to his chair.
‘I’ve decided you’re to go to Sicily until this unfortunate business has blown over.’
Carina’s head came up, her chin lifting. For a brief moment the only sound in the room was the ticking of a clock. Then, hardly trusting herself to speak, she asked him to repeat what he had said.
‘I dispatched a letter to your grandmother this morning, informing her you will arrive in Palermo early in the New Year.’ Oliver paused, his voice dropping reverentially. ‘Her Majesty is most concerned for Lady Danby’s welfare and I’m charged with resolving the matter. A sojourn in Sicily is the obvious solution.’
‘Damn the bloody queen and damn you, Oliver Temple! You’ve no right to order my life!’
As the words came out of her mouth, Carina leapt to her feet. In response, Oliver slammed his fist down on the desk.
‘You’ll not speak of our beloved sovereign with such disrespect! You’re a spoiled and ungrateful child. I can think of nowhere to suit you better than a barbaric island like Sicily!’
‘I’m not going to be sent away!’
‘Then I shall cut your allowance with immediate effect.’ Oliver collected himself swiftly. ‘Not only will you be penniless but homeless as well.’
As if he expected her to jump across the desk and attack him, Oliver reached for the hand bell and rang it loudly. The door opened and the footman marched in carrying her cloak. Her uncle had manipulated the interview from the beginning, Carina thought, and the man had probably been standing by the door throughout.
‘Your Aunt Alice will travel out with you as your chaperone.’ Oliver stood up. ‘Your passage is booked for the first week of January. That’s all I have to say to you.’
Carina snatched her cloak from the footman and slung it over her arm. Without another word, she marched out of the room, her footsteps clattering on the marble stairway as she went down. She heard the footman hurrying after her, but did not stop. The front door was open and she ran through the hall and down the steps to where the brougham was waiting.
The lamplighters were already at work and, once inside, Carina took off her bonnet and threw it on to the seat. She wrapped her cloak tightly about her. Her heart was beating so hard in her chest it hurt. Oliver was a liar. Care for her indeed! When her father died, he couldn’t wait to get his hands on Melton, the home where she had lived all her life. The house in Mount Street had been acquired with undue haste and she and Alice packed off to London within a month of her father’s accident. For that alone she would never forgive him.
Tears pricked the back of her eyes and Carina squeezed them shut. She hadn’t cried since leaving Melton and she would not now. Anger drove out pain and she flexed her fingers until the joints cracked. The conversation with Oliver had been a charade! He knew the dalliance with Danby wasn’t serious – only a diversion to pass the time, easily begun and as easily ended. Her uncle had been looking for an excuse to send her away and Lord Danby had handed him one on a plate.
Carina was seized suddenly by panic. What was she going to say to Alice? It was all a pack of lies, but her aunt would be mortified. Fresh anger struck her. Robert Danby had behaved despicably and Oliver was ruthless – but they wouldn’t get away with this! ‘I won’t let them bully me,’ she swore under her breath. ‘I’ll think of a way to stop them before I talk to Alice.’