The Virtuous Cyprian. Nicola Cornick

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СКАЧАТЬ was frowning. ‘But if you already knew about the Cyprian, why did you not take action?’

      He waited, and heard his brother sigh again. ‘I did not think that it mattered,’ Seagrave said, with the weary boredom that was habitual.

      ‘Did not think—?’ Peter broke off. He was one of the very few who knew the depth of his brother’s disaffection since his return from the wars, his apparent lack of purpose in civilian life. They had shared similar experiences whilst on campaign and Peter could see why Seagrave had been so deeply affected and had found it difficult to settle in a society that seemed to offer only instant, superficial gratification. Peter had the happy temperament to be able to recover from his harrowing experiences, albeit slowly, but Seagrave had always been much deeper, had dwelt more on all that he had experienced. It was as though some part of him had become shut away, unreachable and uninterested.

      Nothing could hold his attention for long. He had the entrée into any ton function that he chose to honour with his presence. He had women fawning on him and a fortune to spend at the card tables. He could not even be accused of being a bad landlord and neglecting his estates, for he made scrupulously careful arrangements to ensure that all his tenants’ needs were met. He just chose never to attend to such matters himself. No wonder then that a letter from Josselyn had met with such indifference.

      Seagrave sighed again. ‘I see now that I was naive in thinking that it did not affect me.’ His tone was coolly reflective. ‘It needed only for some busybody to hear the tale—as they have done—for it to be all over Town. And now Miss Elliott is to give me my congé! I wish I cared more!’

      Peter frowned. He knew that Seagrave had never pretended to have any more regard for Louise Elliott than the mutual respect one would expect to have for one’s future wife, and he also knew that this had nothing to do with the exquisite actress which his brother currently had in keeping in a discreet villa in Chelsea. But even if his feelings were not engaged, the match with Louise was worth preserving if possible.

      ‘Go and see the Elliotts tomorrow,’ he urged. ‘I am sure all can be put to rights. Louise is a sensible girl and will understand the truth of the matter.’

      Seagrave’s mouth twisted with wry amusement. ‘Just so, Peter. I am persuaded you are correct. My future wife is indeed the sort of cold-blooded young woman who could easily ignore the fact that I had a Cyprian in keeping. What she is less likely to forgive, however, is the public humiliation that will reflect on her now that this story is known. And in order to avoid future misunderstandings, I reluctantly feel it is my duty to travel to Dillingham and ascertain exactly what the situation is.’ His voice hardened. ‘I am sure that, with the right inducement, Miss Kellaway can be impelled to see sense.’

      Peter had never met Susanna Kellaway but suddenly, hearing the underlying anger in his brother’s voice, he found himself feeling very sorry for her indeed. A thought occurred to him.

      ‘I say, Nick, do you know Miss Kellaway at all?’

      ‘Not in the sense you mean,’ Seagrave said dryly. ‘I’ve met her, of course.’ His tone was unpleasant. ‘A cheap little piece with a commercial mind—and the commodity she sells is herself.’ He hesitated. ‘Do you remember Miranda Lethbridge?’

      ‘Cousin Sally Lethbridge’s girl?’ Peter frowned. ‘Yes, of course—she was about fifteen when I went away in ’12. Why do you ask?’

      ‘Miranda made her come out a couple of years ago.’ Seagrave sounded amused. ‘You may remember her as a child in pinafores, Peter, but she had improved dramatically and there were plenty who fell at her feet.’ The amusement fled from his tone. ‘Amongst them was Justin Tatton, whom you may remember served with me in Spain. He was bowled over by Miranda and she was equally smitten. We all thought they’d make a match of it.’ Seagrave’s voice was suddenly savage. ‘Miss Kellaway had other ideas, however. This was before Penscombe swam into view, and though Justin has no title, he was rich…Anyway, she made a dead set at him, and in a weak moment he succumbed.’ Seagrave shrugged, a little uncomfortably. ‘God knows, I am in no position to judge another man, but the unutterable folly…Justin said later that it had been a moment of madness, that after a single night he felt nothing but disgust and repulsion. But the damage was done. He begged Susanna Kellaway to tell no one, but she was furious that she could not hold him, and she made very sure that Miranda heard—and in the worst terms possible. Naturally the poor girl was devastated. She refused to even speak to Justin, and last year she made that hasty marriage to Wareham…’ Seagrave shook his head.

      ‘I am not a sentimentalist,’ he added with a touch of humour, ‘but I deplore the way Miss Kellaway takes whatever she wants with no concern for the destruction she causes! Even in my worst excesses I was never so careless of the feelings of others, and God knows, I have done some damnably stupid things in my time!’

      Peter was silent. When Seagrave had first returned home from the Peninsula he had been possessed by a spirit of wildness which Peter suspected was the result of escaping the war with his life intact. He knew that as one of Wellington’s most promising officers, his brother had been sent on some secret and highly dangerous missions and had brushed with death on more than one occasion. He had fought with the Portuguese militia, the ordenanca, as well as covering himself with glory in a more orthodox manner on the battlefield of Talavera. Seagrave’s reaction to civilian life had been a very public and unrestrained year of hell-raising that blazed a trail through the ton until it had burned itself out and he had changed into the deeply world-weary individual he was now.

      Seagrave looked up to where the crescent moon was perched above the rooftops, fading from the summer sky as dawn approached. He sighed. ‘No, with Miss Kellaway it is one excess after another! There will always be some poor fool who is besotted and will fall victim to an experienced woman preying on impressionable young men for their fortunes!’

      Peter grimaced. ‘I wonder what she wants with you, Nick,’ he mused. ‘You could scarcely be described as an inexperienced youth!’

      His brother gave him a cynical glance. ‘Come on, Peter, you’re not an innocent either! She wants money—in one form or another! It’s what she always wants! And I’m damned if she’ll get any out of me!’

      

      The reception which Seagrave met with the following morning at Lord Elliott’s house in Grosvenor Street was not auspicious. The butler had at first tried to turn him away with the news that Miss Elliott was not at home, but Seagrave greeted this information with well-bred disbelief. The butler, flustered, could not stand his ground and could only protest as the Earl swept past him into the drawing-room, where he found both Lady Elliott and her daughter. Seagrave’s intended, a plumply pretty blonde with pale, slightly protruberant blue eyes, looked up from her embroidery frame at his entrance and uttered a small shriek.

      ‘You!’ she gasped, in tones of outrage. ‘Seagrave! How could you! Oh, I wish I were dead!’ She burst into noisy tears.

      Lady Elliott was made of sterner stuff. She swelled with indignation. ‘I am astounded that you see fit to show your face here, my lord! To come from the arms of that creature to my own, sweet, innocent Louise! It defies belief! The notice terminating the engagement has already been sent to the Gazette!’

      Louise sobbed all the louder. Seagrave, who had as yet uttered not one word, found that there was no necessity for him to do so. His sense of humour, long buried, began to reassert itself. Giving the outraged matron and her snivelling daughter the full benefit of a wicked smile, he executed an immaculate bow, turned on his heel and left the room.

      

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