The Disgraced Marchioness. Anne O'Brien

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СКАЧАТЬ Stamford’s face brightened as she saw the value of the connection and so allowed a complete volte-face. ‘Lady Painscastle is a lively and eminently sensible young woman. She might indeed have noticed something between the pair—which you did not.’ Thus Mrs Stamford damning the inadequacy of the whole male race.

      ‘Do you agree, my lady?’ Henry took the empty glass from Eleanor’s hand, noting the return of colour to her face. ‘It might be a painful encounter.’

      ‘It might.’ She stood and raised her chin. He nodded at the air of determination and the bright sparkle in her eyes. She did not lack for courage, no matter the odds. ‘I shall be ready immediately after luncheon.’

      Judith Faringdon, now Countess of Painscastle and most eligibly married to her beloved Simon, was in residence in the family home in Grosvenor Square. She had made an excellent match, with love and affection on both sides, and was now enjoying life as a wealthy and fashionable young woman with all the freedom allowed to a married lady. She was a true redhead with green eyes, both characteristics inherited from her mother, and an abundance of energy all, on this occasion, attractively packaged in an afternoon gown of cream and white muslin. With a pretty face and a lively manner, coupled with an appreciation of the fashions that suited her and a wealthy, well-born husband who adored her and pandered to her every whim, she had entrée into the Polite World. Her love of the pleasures of London was immeasurable. As was her ear for gossip.

      ‘Hal! I did not know of your return. You look wonderfully well. Life in the colonies suits you. I cannot imagine its attraction but …’ She allowed him to kiss her hand and then opened her arms to clasp him in a warm embrace.

      ‘And Nell. Mrs Stamford. A family party, no less. I did not expect …’ She hesitated as she recalled the circumstances. ‘I am so sorry, Nell. Forgive me. I did not mean to be so insensitive or unfeeling. Indeed I did not! I too miss Thomas dreadfully—but life must go on, you know.’ She rambled on. All good humour and welcome, if a little shallow. All in all, it was difficult not to like Lady Painscastle.

      ‘And who have we here?’ She lifted Tom from his mother’s arms and spun him round to his obvious delight, tickling his neck until he chuckled. ‘What a charmer he will be. Another Faringdon, if I am not mistaken, to break our poor female hearts.’ She kissed him enthusiastically. ‘Just look at those dark curls and those eyebrows.’ She frowned at Hal over the baby’s head. ‘And have you broken many hearts in America? I expect so.’

      He flushed, the faintest of colours on his lean cheeks, but otherwise ignored her comment.

      ‘He has your eyes, dear Nell,’ Judith continued. ‘How delightful. Perhaps it is time that I pleased my lord and presented him with a son and heir. You almost tempt me to do so!’

      Out of which artless comment, it was clear that the Faringdon Scandal had not yet reached the Polite World!

      The visitors seated themselves in a cream-and-gold withdrawing-room, stylishly and expensively furnished, tea was served with due ceremony and Tom returned to his mother’s lap, where he proceeded to gnaw the carved ivory head of her parasol with serious intensity.

      ‘You all look very grave.’ Lady Painscastle disposed her embroidered and flounced skirts with casual grace as she surveyed her family.

      ‘Yes. It is a delicate matter, Judith. And not one that we wish to spread around.’ Henry frowned discouragingly at his cousin. ‘I believe that you can help us.’

      ‘You can trust me, dear Henry!’ She smiled winningly. ‘Of course I will help. And I am always discreet.’

      ‘Judith! You are the most incorrigible gossip of my acquaintance.’ Lord Henry could not help but smile at his cousin’s naïvety.

      ‘But not if it will hurt one of my family.’ And however shallow she might be, they knew Judith was right. It made the forthcoming conversation more bearable.

      ‘Think back to your coming-out, Judith,’ Henry prompted. ‘Four years ago, I think, in the spring of 1812.’

      ‘Yes.’ Judith nodded, lifting up her bone china teacup with an elegant hand. ‘I have been married to dear Simon for three years now.’

      ‘Can you recall a young girl—about your own age. Octavia Baxendale. Fair hair. Blue eyes. A little shorter than you, perhaps. A neat figure. A quiet and unassuming girl, not one to take the town by storm, but pretty enough. She would have been accompanied by her brother and perhaps her mother. I have no recollection of such a female, but you might.’

      ‘Well, you wouldn’t, Hal! Melissa Charlesworth came out in that year. You were besotted, I remember. I doubt you noticed anyone else!’

      ‘Never!’ His frown was definitely more pronounced.

      ‘You even went to Almack’s, drank tea and lemonade, danced country dances and allowed yourself to be sneered at by the Princess Esterhazy for making a comment about the war or some such taboo subject! You were in love! Until Melissa threw you over—a mere younger son as you were!—and married the Earl of Saltmarshe. She always did have an eye to a fortune, no matter how ugly and old the husband.’

      ‘Never mind that.’ He rose to his feet to pace the room with impatience and perhaps a little unease. Eleanor hid a smile in spite of herself. ‘What about Octavia Baxendale. Do you have any recollection of her?’

      ‘Well, now. Let me think. Perhaps I do recall … But it is so long ago—and Thomas flirted with any number of ladies. I particularly remember one débutante—but she had curls as black and lustrous as a crow’s wing. I believe I envied her, admired her colouring more than my own—foolishly, as Painscastle was quick to reassure me …’

      Lord Henry sighed. ‘Do try to concentrate Judith. Fair hair, blue eyes …’ He looked to the ceiling in despair.

      ‘Well!’ She folded her hands and thought, the effort palpable. ‘I think I might remember her at some of the occasions. With a brother, perhaps? The name Octavia seems familiar … But I am not at all certain. Why do you wish me to remember something so inconsequential?’

      ‘Can you recall—did Thomas flirt with her? He escorted you to enough balls and soirées—he must have come across her if you did.’ Henry ignored her demand for some clarification.

      ‘I don’t know … Well, yes, perhaps I do remember a fair girl, and perhaps he did. If it is the girl I am thinking of, she had a liking for pink. A colour I can never wear.’ She bared her teeth as Hal’s temper came close to boiling point. ‘I know … I am trying, Hal. If it is the girl in question, I remember thinking that he could not be serious about her as a bride—a respectable family only. As Marquis of Burford he could look so much higher than a mere country miss …’ She flushed with mortification as she heard her own words, the deep wash of rose clashing remarkably with her auburn colouring as she saw Eleanor blush with discomfort and Mrs Stamford’s eyes flash a warning.

      ‘Oh, Nell.’ Immediately remorseful, the lady put down her teacup and stretched out a hand to touch Eleanor’s cold fingers, ‘My tongue runs away with me, as you know. I meant no criticism. Indeed I did not. Anyone could see that you and Thomas were so well suited to each other.’

      Henry sighed and tried manfully both to preserve his patience and steer the conversation back into its previous channel. Neither was easy. ‘Judith—did it ever occur to you that Thomas was more serious about the lady than a mild flirtation?’

      ‘Perhaps. СКАЧАТЬ