The following Thursday night, Davie stood in front of his glass, knotting his cravat in preparation for walking to dinner at the Lyndlingtons’. He smiled at his image, recalling the scornful predictions of his fellow Hellions that, now that he had income and a position, he would get himself a proper valet and turn into a veritable Macaroni.
‘No, my friends,’ he’d answered. ‘At heart, I will always be a simple farm boy.’
As Faith would always be a duchess.
And there they were.
Sighing, he completed the knot and shrugged into his coat. Those unalterable facts might not have changed, but neither had his resolve to seek out—in a more restricted environment—and enjoy her company for as long as he could.
Which would make the inevitable parting even more wrenching, the voice of prudence warned.
So be it, he answered. You don’t refuse to hang a borrowed Rembrandt in your study just because you can’t keep it for ever.
Catching up his hat and walking stick, he set off. A stroll through the cool night air would calm him, let him distance himself from the complex and tedious business of managing the reform legislation and concentrate instead on the anticipation of spending time with Faith.
* * *
Giles was in the drawing room to greet him when he arrived, once again unfashionably early. Handing him a glass of wine, he said, ‘Did I mention this was to be mostly a family party? Maggie’s father, Lord Witlow, and her great-aunt, the Dowager Countess of Sayleford, are coming—and also Ben and Christopher.’
Davie stifled a groan. ‘The very friends who have most strenuously urged me to forget “the Unattainable”. Do they know I’ve been seeing her again?’
‘Not unless you’ve told them. That’s your business, and I try not to meddle. Though I did recommend you let them know before they found out some other way.’
Davie shrugged. ‘Then they’ll find out tonight. I only hope they will behave themselves.’
‘I don’t think you need to fear any embarrassing disclosures at table. But when we meet for our usual conference tomorrow morning at the Quill and Gavel—I can’t predict their response, but if I were you, I’d be prepared with answers to some hard questions.’
Davie smiled wryly. ‘I only wish I had some.’
Giles hesitated, then took a sip of his wine before saying, ‘Are you sure seeing the Duchess is wise?’
‘I’m sure it is not,’ Davie replied. ‘But, having unexpectedly been handed the opportunity to do so, I’m also sure there is no way I could have refused it. And I do think I can help her.’
‘As long as you emerge from it with a whole skin.’
‘I gave her my heart long ago. There’s nothing more I can lose.’
‘I only hope you’re right,’ Giles said cryptically before the butler announced the arrival of the next guests, Benedict Tawny and Christopher Lattimer.
Having been forewarned, Davie wasn’t unsettled by the appearance of their fellow Hellions. In fact, in the few minutes between learning of their impending appearance and their actual arrival, he’d decided to take Giles’s advice and tell them about Faith straight away, before the rest of the party made its entrance.
‘Just a convivial dinner tonight—we’ll save the politics for another time,’ Giles said as he handed each a glass of wine.
‘No politics?’ Ben rejoined. ‘What, you would have us miss an opportunity to continue pressing—very politely, of course—Lord Witlow on moving forward with the Reform compromise?’
‘I would. I want my father-in-law to relax and enjoy the company. There will be other females present besides Maggie, so the two of you start thinking of something that could be considered acceptable conversation for a lady’s dinner table.’
‘One lady attending is someone you won’t be expecting,’ Davie said. ‘The Duchess of Ashedon.’
Both Ben and Christopher turned to stare at him. ‘“The Unattainable”?’ Ben asked. ‘But how—why?’
Quickly Davie summarised the events that had brought them together, and his intentions for the immediate future. ‘She should be arriving any moment. I didn’t want her presence to take you by surprise—’
‘Leading us to make some...inappropriate remark,’ Ben inserted.
‘Like calling her “the Unattainable” to her face,’ Christopher added.
‘Yes, that,’ Davie said, having a hard time not snapping back, though he knew his friends were trying to goad him. ‘Or tasking her about her intentions, now that Ashedon is dead, or referring in any way to the...unfortunate circumstances of his passing.’
‘Were they unfortunate?’ Ben asked, raising his eyebrows. ‘How so?’
‘Later,’ Davie ground out.
‘Actually, she’s not so “Unattainable” now,’ Ben remarked.
‘A widowed duchess?’ Christopher said. ‘Of course she is, halfwit.’
‘Only if Davie has marriage on his mind,’ Ben said, giving Davie a sly look. ‘Whereas, after worshipping her from afar for so many years, the Saint might just be ready for something a little more car—’
‘Pray do not transfer your lustful ambitions to me,’ Davie said, holding on to his temper with an effort made more difficult by knowing there was more truth than he’d like in Ben’s assessment. ‘Unlike you, I don’t feel compelled to seduce every woman I meet.’
‘Be a sight more affable if you did,’ Ben shot back, unrepentant.
At that moment, the butler announced the arrival of the rest of the party. Giles’s wife walked in on her father’s arm, following by her great-aunt, Lady Sayleford, who was chatting with the Duchess.
‘Can’t wait to meet your paragon,’ Ben murmured as Giles walked over to take his wife’s arm, then turned to make the introductions.
‘Just make sure you behave yourself,’ Davie muttered.
‘Oh, around ladies, I always do.’ Ben flashed him a smile.
Knowing what his friend always did around ladies, Davie stifled a curse. Ben loved females, and they returned the favour, responding to his practised charm and tall, lithe, handsome form with universal gratification and approval.
Whereas Davie, who confined most of his conversation to politics, had never developed the art of strictly social conversation. On the few such occasions he had joined his friends, Ben’s flattering attentiveness and clever wit with the female guests made him feel like a large, backward, doltish farm boy.
The idea that Ben might try to captivate Faith made Davie want to wrap his hands around his friend’s throat and throttle him. Surprised at the intensity of that reaction, he made himself take a deep breath. Ridiculous that he should be jealous of his friend.
Fortunately, Ben was only barely more suitable a match for a widowed duchess than he was.
Then Faith stepped out from behind the Dowager Countess, and smiled at him, and every other concern slipped out of mind while his whole being responded to her. She looked glorious, as always, gowned tonight in dark grey overlaid with a silver net that seemed to twinkle and glow as she moved in the candlelight. Small diamond drops winked at her ears, and something equally sparkly was threaded through the curls pinned atop her head. She looked like a chef’s iced confection, good enough to eat.
He wasn’t aware of walking towards her, but suddenly he was at her side. To his annoyance, so too was Ben. ‘Duchess,’ his friend drawled, ‘I’m so delighted to make your acquaintance at last. Davie has sung your praises on innumerable occasions over the years.’
Faith smiled at his friend. ‘Mr Smith has told me about you, too, Mr Tawny. You served in India, did you not?’
To Davie’s relief, before Ben could launch into one of the amusing army stories that always delighted female listeners, the Dowager Countess said, ‘Shall we go in at once, Witlow? I’m famished, and it’s not good to keep an old lady waiting. Might faint dead away.’
Lord Witlow laughed. ‘If you like. Although I’d wager you possess as much vigour as all of us put together. Duchess, if you’re ready?’
‘Certainly, Lord Witlow. I’m sure we will talk more later, Mr Tawny,’ Faith said, before going over to take her host’s arm. Giles led in the Dowager Countess, Maggie took Davie’s arm with a smile, and they all followed, arranging themselves as directed. To his delight, Davie was once again seated adjacent to Faith, while Ben and Christopher flanked Maggie at her end of the table.
‘Duchess, I’m pleased to see you looking so well,’ Lady Sayleford said to Faith. ‘My niece tells me you have an active interest in politics, which the late Duke did not share. How fortunate that you can now attend events that may provide more stimulation than the usual society party. I must warn you, though, politics is somewhat of an obsession with Maggie and my nephew. Given the least encouragement, she will have you riding to the hustings with them.’
‘I can’t think of anything more vital to the well-being of our country,’ Faith replied. ‘Lord Coopley urged that more society ladies encourage their relations and acquaintances to take an active part, and I shall certainly do that. If I could be of any use on the hustings, I’d be happy to assist.’
‘I’m making a note of that offer,’ Maggie warned from her end of the table. ‘I shall certainly call on you when the time comes!’
‘You’re in for it now,’ the Dowager Countess said with a chuckle. ‘Maggie is a force as powerful as one of those new steam locomotives when some political business needs to be done. But don’t I recall that you began debating politics with Mr Smith some years ago, when he was secretary to your cousin, Sir Edward Greaves?’
‘Why, yes—but that was quite long ago, before I made my come-out,’ Faith said.
Maggie laughed. ‘Aunt Lilly knows everything about everyone—or soon finds out. So, gentlemen...’ she looked over to Ben and Christopher ‘...if you have any secrets, beware.’
Faith blushed a little, and Davie wondered if she were remembering that forbidden kiss. A timely reminder that nothing in society ever remained secret, providing helpful reinforcement of his intention to be more prudent in future.
Conversation became more general, a smattering of politics interspersed with some of the stories Ben was induced to tell about his army days in India, which led to a lively discussion of the relative merits and peculiarities of society in England and the subcontinent. Davie was content mostly to watch Faith, but as the evening went on, that enjoyment became tempered with concern.
To Davie, it seemed that she was somewhat...withdrawn, for though she smiled, and answered any questions put to her, she made no attempt to initiate conversation. When the conversation was centred elsewhere, her smile faded and a quiet, almost troubled look took over her countenance.
What could be causing her unease? Surely not some gossip about their lapse at her sister’s earlier this week—something that scandalous would be so volatile, Giles would have heard of it and warned him.
Some confrontation at her home?
‘You seem preoccupied tonight,’ he said quietly, under cover of the larger conversation. ‘Is Carlisle giving you trouble?’
To his relief, she brightened. ‘Oh, no! As I was planning to tell you, that interview went off very well. I was firm, and purposeful, and didn’t let him get in a word of response. Very duchess-like! Even better, he vacated the house yesterday. Until I finish reviewing the dossiers Englemere sent and choose someone to replace him, I’ll have the boys all to myself.’
‘That’s wonderful! Where do you mean to take them?’
‘We went to Green Park today, watched the milkmaids with their cows and bought some fresh milk. Tomorrow, if the weather is fair, I may take them to the Tower of London.’
‘They should enjoy that! Especially if you embellish the visit with stories of the famous inmates, mentioning scaffolds and beheadings.’
She laughed. ‘Yes, the more bloodthirsty the story, the better.’
Dinner concluding, Maggie stood. ‘This being a family party, we’ll not leave you gentlemen to port and cigars, but all go in to tea directly.’ Waving them to the salon, she took her husband’s arm. Lord Witlow walked with his aunt, allowing Davie to claim Faith.
After cups had been filled and emptied, Lord Witlow said, ‘We don’t have any formal entertainment planned, but Maggie did promise to play for me. Normally after dinners in company, I’m stuck with a bunch of loquacious old politicians fighting some old election or arguing for a new.’ He gave Giles and the other Hellions an amused glance. ‘Listening to music is a treat I get too rarely.’
‘Yes, I did promise,’ Maggie said. ‘But though my fond papa enjoys my piano, I’m competent merely. If you gentlemen would rather seek more skilled entertainment, there’s still time to make the theatre or the opera—or your favourite gaming house.’
‘Or house of another sort,’ Lady Sayleford said with a pointed look at Ben.
‘Aunt Lilly!’ Maggie said with reproof. ‘In any event, we very much enjoyed having all of you to dinner, but you mustn’t feel obligated to remain.’
‘Not that I don’t appreciate your playing, my dear, but these old bones are longing for their sofa,’ Lady Sayleford said.
‘Ben and I arranged to meet some associates later. Political associates,’ Christopher emphasised, with a smile for the Dowager Countess.
‘Is that what they’re calling them now?’ she responded with a twinkle.
‘Off with all of you, before you put me to the blush,’ Maggie said.
‘If it won’t seem to be intruding, I should like to stay and listen,’ Faith said. ‘I’m no good at all, but my sisters used to play for us in the evening. It’s one of the things I missed so much after leaving my family,’ she concluded, her voice wistful.
‘We should be delighted to have you stay,’ Maggie said. ‘And Davie, if you like.’
‘You know how much I enjoy hearing you play.’ Although he’d stay for a caterwauling soprano, if Faith remained.
With expressions of thanks for the fine dinner and congenial company, Ben, Christopher, and the Dowager Countess took their leave. Lord Witlow, Maggie, Giles, Davie and Faith moved into Maggie’s private parlour, where a piano stood near the window. Lord Witlow chose a wing chair near the hearth, while, declining to sit beside Faith on the sofa, Davie angled a straight chair next to it. That put him close enough to feel her nearness, but saved him the torture of sitting next to her, knowing with one subtle movement in the candlelit dimness, he could slide his leg over to touch hers.
‘I’ll start with your favourite, Papa,’ Maggie said, and launched into Beethoven’s First Piano Concerto. With a little gasp, Faith leaned forward.
Before Davie could enquire what the matter was, she turned to him to whisper, ‘Lady Lyndlington was far too modest. How wonderfully she plays!’
‘She is very good, isn’t she?’ Davie agreed, delighted that the company he’d introduced her to was providing another unexpected treat.
* * *
For the next hour, while Lord Witlow tapped his toe in time to the music before eventually nodding off, Maggie played and Giles sat beside her on the bench, turning the pages for her. From time to time, Maggie looked over at her husband and they shared a smile; once, as she paused between one passage and the next, he whispered a ‘bravo’ and kissed her cheek.
As Faith became more immersed in the music, the tension Davie had noticed in her at dinner seemed to ease. Though he was relieved that the music’s magic had driven from her mind whatever was disturbing her, he still fretted over the cause. He would have to try again to get her to tell him.
With the tutor gone, was she having more problems with the Dowager, who didn’t approve her sending Carlisle away or spending so much time with her sons? As he speculated about what the problem might be, he heard the echo of Giles’s voice warning that Davie couldn’t solve Faith’s problems, that she and her family would direct her future.
Despite Giles’s well-meant advice, he didn’t seem able to keep himself from wanting to make everything smooth in her world. It might not be his responsibility or his privilege, but during the short time they had together, he would do what he could.
At that moment, Maggie paused again, the piano falling silent before she began the next movement. She looked over at Giles, who returned a glance so tender, Davie felt a stab of envy and longing. He gripped the arms of his chair to keep his hand from reaching out for Faith’s.
Just before the music began again, Faith sighed. To his infinite delight, in the dimness of the candlelight, while their host and hostess remained absorbed in the music and each other, and Maggie’s father dozed, she moved her hand from the arm of the couch and reached for his. Both of them still watching at the musicians, conscious of sharing a guilty pleasure, he let his hand slip from the chair’s arm and reached over to link his fingers with hers.
‘They look so happy,’ she whispered.
‘They are,’ he murmured. ‘Well suited, and perfectly attuned to one another.’
‘It must be wonderful, to be in a marriage like that.’
‘They are certainly a good advertisement for the wedded state.’
She nodded. ‘My sister and Englemere as well.’
‘Maybe you will find that one day. No one deserves it more.’
She looked back at him then, her melancholy gaze sharpening, her eyes sparking with some more powerful, physical reaction.
‘Maybe I want something else just as much. Something more...immediate.’
He felt it, too, the pulse of desire that seemed to vibrate around them, in the music, with the music, urging them together. They were like Beethoven’s sonorous chords, he thought, distinct and separate notes that could blend into a harmonious whole, something new, more powerful and more beautiful than the single note alone.
‘I want that, too,’ he whispered, tightening his grip. ‘But we dare not have it.’
‘I know.’ She sighed again and detached her fingers from his as the movement ended with a final triumphant chord.
They both clapped, the sound waking Lord Witlow, who added his applause. Much as Davie enjoyed the music, he felt more like protesting its conclusion than applauding its performance.
The end of the piece meant the end of his time with Faith. Though, unlike at the political dinner, he might leave when she did, even offer to see her safely home without anyone present thinking his behaviour suspicious, he knew he didn’t dare subject himself to the temptation of riding alone in the coach with her.
After the music ended, Giles would take his wife up to their bedchamber and make sweet, slow love to her. The spell of the music having only intensified the connection of mind and attraction of body he already felt to Faith, Davie couldn’t keep himself from envisioning doing the same.
Seeing her sitting there, the candlelight sparkling off the spangled silk of her gown, he could imagine leaning over to worship the bare skin of her neck and shoulders with his lips. Wrapping her in his arms, angling her head up for another mesmerising kiss...
Sweat breaking out on his brow, he wrenched his mind from the images. Maggie belonged to Giles in a way Faith would never belong to him, he told himself angrily. Could he not keep that one simple thought in his head?
Faith rose, and he followed her lead, bludgeoning his disobedient mind into performing the normal rituals of politeness, complimenting Maggie on her playing, thanking her for a fine dinner and a lovely evening. After giving her hostess an impulsive hug, she turned to Davie. ‘I suppose I must have my carriage summoned and go home.’
‘I don’t want the evening to end either,’ he admitted. A sudden thought occurred, and he frowned. ‘Are you worried that you’ll have to endure another of the Dowager’s harangues?’
‘No. That’s actually better, too, now that I’ve stopped meekly following all her commands. Every time she begins to criticise, I either interrupt her or leave the room. I don’t think she’s yet figured out exactly what to do about it. It’s lovely, to finally feel I have some power within my own house.’ Her bright smile faded. ‘Though not enough, I fear.’
Before he could question her about that, Lord Witlow finished his conversation with his daughter, and looping her arm in Giles’s, Maggie walked over to them. ‘We’ve sent for your carriage, Faith. Papa is so fatigued, he’s decided to spend the night with us. Davie will wait with you until it arrives. Would you like him to escort you home, too?’
‘No, that won’t be necessary. John Coachman and the grooms will see me safely to Berkeley Square.’
‘I’ll bid you goodnight, then, and see my father to his room. You will call again soon, won’t you? I already have some ideas about some political work we could do together.’
‘I should be delighted to help in whatever way I can.’
‘Good.’ Maggie reached out to give Faith a hug. ‘I knew we would make great allies!’
Each footfall as they descended the stairs seemed like the bong of a clock sounding the hour marking the end of their time together. Unwilling to part without knowing when he might see her again, Davie said, ‘With the special election and Parliament reconvening last June, many members with agricultural interests haven’t been home to see to their tenants and crops. We’ll soon be taking a brief recess so they can check on the upcoming harvest before the vote is called later this month. If you’d like, I could take you and your sons for a walk around Hyde Park. In the morning, of course, when we’re less likely to get trampled by horsemen and carriages.’
She turned to smile at him. ‘That would be lovely! I know the boys would enjoy it.’
‘Shall I meet you at Hyde Park, or call for you in Berkeley Square? Maybe I could help you review the dossiers of tutors Englemere sent you before we go out.’
To his surprise, that offer brought the anxious look back to her face again. ‘I don’t really need to review them. Englemere has already ensured all those he recommended possess the proper credentials. I only need to interview the candidates to see which one seems the best fit. Perhaps it would be best if we meet you in the Park.’
Taken aback, Davie couldn’t help feeling a little hurt. Obviously, Faith didn’t want him appearing at her front door. Was she embarrassed that some other society caller might discover she had received him?
Immediately, he rejected the thought. He knew Faith cared little for the opinions of society. But the Dowager would certainly not approve of her associating with someone so far beneath her station. Most likely, she was reluctant to invite him into her mother-in-law’s domain, thereby almost goading the Dowager to give her a lecture on the proper behaviour of a duchess.
‘Very well, the Park it shall be. Hyde Park Corner, day after tomorrow at ten o’clock, shall we say?’
‘At ten, yes.’ She smiled, her look of anxiety fading, confirming to him that he had correctly interpreted the reason for her disquiet. ‘How can I thank you enough? Taking me to see Sarah, bringing me into a circle of congenial friends, and then, tonight, reminding me of a joy I’d almost forgotten. I only wish I could provide something so special for you.’
You do—just by letting me be near you. But that sounded too hopelessly besotted, so he said instead, ‘Being a friend is special enough.’
Her smile grew tender. ‘It is indeed.’
Then the butler walked over, announcing the arrival of her carriage, and helped her into her evening cloak. ‘Goodnight, Davie. I shall be looking forward to the Park!’
‘I’m determined to get a laugh out of Ashedon, if I have to play hopscotch through the mud with him. He needs to learn to act like a boy again.’
‘A dignified Member of Parliament, hopping through the mud?’ she laughed. ‘Now that, I truly must see.’
The butler was holding open the door for her. Giving him one last smile, she walked out, leaving him staring after her. Leaving him bereft, with only his lonely room and lonely bed to return to.
But he had the park to look forward to, the day after tomorrow. Which would give him time to make the outing something truly memorable.