The Incomparable Countess. Mary Nichols

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СКАЧАТЬ it made his somewhat sombre face come alive, the light in his eyes giving depth to his expression. ‘And considering your subject, you should take that as a compliment.’

      ‘People do not pay to see the truth, your Grace.’

      ‘And it is important they should pay,’ he murmured softly.

      ‘Yes, it is,’ she said bluntly.

      ‘I shall pay. I shall pay handsomely.’

      ‘I have a set fee for pupils who join my class.’

      ‘I do not want Vinny to join a class. I expect her to receive your undivided attention.’

      ‘I am not sure I have the time for that.’

      The maid came in answer to the summons and removed the tray. He waited until she had gone and closed the door before speaking again. ‘Two hours twice a week—surely you can manage that, especially for twenty pounds every time she comes.’

      ‘Now you are being ridiculous,’ she snapped, taken aback by the amount. ‘No one is worth that much.’

      ‘Oh, do not underrate yourself, Countess, it will be worth every groat of it to have my daughter properly taught.’

      ‘And what if she shows no aptitude?’ She was feeling very confused. What was he up to? She ought to refuse to do as he asked, ring for a footman to show him out, but in the back of her mind she was doing sums. Twenty pounds twice a week, that would pay for all the food, clothes and hired help at the orphanage. It might even help to furnish the new home, once they had bought it. She would be mad to turn it down.

      ‘Drawing can be taught, can it not?’ he countered.

      ‘Up to a certain level, perhaps, but if the talent is not there, then…’ She shrugged her shoulders, lifting her breasts within the bodice of her gown, so that he felt a sharp surge of desire, which he quickly stifled. ‘I do not make a practice of attempting to teach what cannot be taught.’

      ‘I do not wish to make a genius of her, nor even an artist, dependent on patronage for a living. I wish her to have a modicum of competence, no more.’

      ‘Mediocrity is not something to aim for, my lord, whatever one’s station in life and whatever one is doing,’ Frances said, with some asperity. ‘You would not subscribe to that for yourself—as I recall, you were always the perfectionist—so why think that a daughter should not excel? It does not preclude her from making a good marriage.’

      He laughed suddenly. ‘Blunt as ever, my lady. But you are right, of course. So what do you say? Will you take Lavinia on? She is a delightful child but, without a mother to guide her since my wife died two years ago, she has been let run a little wild and I can think of no one more suited to become her mentor than the incomparable Countess of Corringham.’

      She refused to smile, though it was difficult when he was so blatantly trying to gammon her. ‘So, I am to provide the polish, am I?’

      ‘Why not?’ He grinned at her and the hard lines of his face softened, so that he looked years younger and less overbearing. If she agreed with his outrageous suggestion, did that mean she would be often in his company? Could she bear that if, as now, he was smiling at her, trying to win her over? ‘You have it in abundance. While you are instructing her, she might learn a little polite conversation, a way to conduct herself in company.’

      ‘Twice a week. How much polish can be applied in so short a time?’

      ‘Enough, for now. I am expecting my sister from Ireland; she is married to Lord Felmore, you know. I hope to prevail upon her to take Lavinia in hand and bring her up to the mark for her come-out next year.’

      ‘Then why do you need me?’

      ‘Oh, I need you,’ he said softly and she wished she had not spoken, but if he thought that his flummery would have her eating out of his hand, he would have to think again. She would not be caught out a second time, but then he showed how wrong she was in that assumption when he added in a far more practical tone, ‘Besides, I have business to deal with and I do not have the time to be continually taking her out and about.’

      ‘So, I am to keep her out of mischief.’

      ‘And be paid well for doing so.’

      He would not bring his daughter himself, she decided; he would send her in the carriage with her governess and a footman, so she would not have to meet him, except every now and again to report progress and she could keep those meetings strictly businesslike. ‘You think I need the money?’

      ‘Don’t you?’ he asked mildly.

      ‘Yes, but not for the reason you suppose, your Grace. And it is only that which inclines me to agree, but I would have to meet and talk to Lady Lavinia before I finally make up my mind. We may not deal well together…’

      ‘That is understood. Let us arrange a day and time.’

      ‘Bring her here, tomorrow, at two in the afternoon.’

      ‘I shall look forward to it.’

      She rang the bell for a footman to conduct him to the door, bringing the interview to an end.

      He picked up his hat from the floor at his side and got to his feet. ‘My lady, your obedient,’ he said. ‘Until tomorrow.’

      As soon as he had gone, she sank back into her seat and shut her eyes. The encounter had exhausted her. She thought she had got over him, had learned not to care, and to remain cool in a crisis, so why was she shaking? Why had she been such a fool as to agree? Did she really want to spend hours in the company of his daughter, who could so easily have been her daughter too, if her early hopes and dreams had been realised? No one expected her to pay the whole cost of that orphanage, nor even the major part of it, she did not need to put herself through torment just for that. She could easily find other commissions which would not be anything like as stressful.

      She stood up and poured herself a glass of wine from the decanter on a side table and sat down again to give herself a good scold. She was too old to let a middle-aged roué upset her. It was business, he had said so, and business was all it was, and she really ought to thank Lady Willoughby for recommending her so highly. Incomparable! She laughed suddenly and the wine spilled over her hand. She downed the rest before she could spill any more.

      She spent the afternoon teaching a class of half a dozen young ladies about line and perspective and in the evening she went to a soirée given by Lady Holland. Her ladyship was sharp and imperious, and some people made fun of her, but she was still a great Society hostess and Frances knew she would enjoy the conversation of her guests, which was usually well-informed and witty and ranged from the financial troubles that the end of the war had brought with it to poking fun at the Regent. Frances returned home in a happy frame of mind, ready to take on the world.

      She was not so sure about that the next afternoon when the Duke of Loscoe was shown into her drawing room, bringing with him a reluctant Lady Lavinia, but she did not let that show as she rose to greet them.

      He was dressed in a dark blue superfine coat, white pantaloons tucked into tasselled hessians which would have done duty as mirrors they were so polished. His cravat of white lawn was tied in an intricate knot which undoubtedly had a fancy name but which eluded her.

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