The Passionate Friends. Meg Alexander

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      “These are strong words, Elizabeth.” Sebastian’s smile had vanished. “The man is a well-known preacher. Why have you taken him in such dislike?”

      Elizabeth glanced at her husband, and knew that she must speak with caution. Perry’s temper was as hasty as her own. She must not mention the leering looks with which the preacher always greeted her, the silky murmurings in her ear with offers to counsel her alone, or the fact that the Reverend Truscott always held her hand for much longer than courtesy demanded.

      “I don’t quite know,” she murmured. “I find him sinister. There is something of the night about him.”

      “It must be your imagination, dearest.” Perry took Elizabeth’s hand. “I suspect that you have no wish to lose your friend to anyone.”

      Sebastian looked at Prudence. “You are very quiet, my love. Have you no opinions on this matter?”

      Prudence was struggling with her own emotions. She knew Dan’s heart almost as well as she knew her own.

      Dan had stiffened for just a moment at Elizabeth’s news, but when she forced herself to glance at him his expression was carefully neutral.

      “Judith’s announcement came as a shock to us,” she said lightly. “We had no idea, you see, that Mr Truscott thought of Judith, or she of him. He gave no indication of any special attachment to her.”

      “Until she became an heiress,” Elizabeth cried fiercely. “Can you be in any doubt of the reason for this sudden offer?”

      “My darling, that is unfair,” Perry protested at once. “We all love Judith for her special qualities. I wonder only that she had not wed before.”

      It was at this point that Dan excused himself, with a muttered explanation of a forgotten engagement. He had grown so pale that the freckles stood out sharply against his fair skin, and there was a strange, lost look in his blue eyes.

      “Everyone is behaving so strangely today,” Elizabeth complained. “What ails Dan? Have I said something to upset him?”

      “Perhaps he doesn’t care to listen to gossip,” Prudence soothed. “He is still out of things as yet. He doesn’t know the people of whom we speak.”

      “He knows Judith. I should have thought that he’d like to know about the man whom she is to wed. Oh, Prudence, now that he is back, do you think that she will change her mind?”

      “I doubt it. She seemed quite determined.”

      “Then something must have happened to persuade her. I’d lay odds that her frightful stepmother is behind all this. That woman should have been drowned at birth!”

      Prudence felt unable to argue. She was well aware that it was Mrs Aveton’s violet opposition to Dan’s suit which had caused so much unhappiness between the two young lovers all those years ago. The woman had conducted a campaign of hate, telling all her acquaintances that Dan was naught but a penniless foundling, sprung from who knew what vile slum in the industrial north of England.

      Her venomous tongue had done its work. Dan had been cut dead by certain members of the ton on more than one occasion. His friendships fell away, and Prudence had been surprised to find that he was no longer included in the invitations which reached her daily.

      She had made it her business to find out why, and when she had discovered the truth she confronted Mrs Aveton. It had been an unpleasant interview, with protestations of innocence on the lady’s part, and Prudence in such a towering rage that Mrs Aveton was forced to retract her slanderous remarks.

      By then the damage was done, and Judith could bear it no longer. Though it broke her heart to do so, she had sent Dan away, vowing as she did so that no other man for whom she felt the least affection would be subjected to such inhuman treatment.

      Dan had fought her decision with everything in his power, but she would not be swayed. His honour and his good name were at stake.

      She placed no reliance on Mrs Aveton’s promise not to return to the attack. Her stepmother’s machinations might become more subtle, but they would not cease.

      Now, as Judith was borne back to the house which she shared with her two half sisters and their mother, she regretted the impulse which had taken her to Mount Street that day. Prudence and Elizabeth had been shocked by the news of her betrothal. That much was clear. How could she explain the reasons which had led to her decision?

      The news of her inheritance had caused uproar within the Aveton family, though the money was to be held in trust for her unless she married. True, she might use the income from it as she wished, but she might not touch the capital.

      Mrs Aveton had spared no pains to discover if it was possible to break the terms of the old man’s will. When Judith’s lawyers explained that this could not be done, the girl had been subjected to a series of merciless attacks. They had continued until Judith began to fear for her own sanity.

      There was nothing she could do. A woman of her age might not set up her own establishment, even had she the means to do so. The constant quarrelling caused her to retreat even further into her shell. Until today she believed that she’d succeeded in crushing her emotions to the point where nothing mattered any more.

      Yet it wasn’t entirely out of desperation that she’d accepted the Reverend Truscott’s offer for her hand. She’d been moved by his kindly interest in her, and the way he took her part against her stepmother.

      Mrs Aveton had seemed a little afraid of him. Certainly the preacher’s tall cadaverous figure was imposing. Dressed always in funereal black, when he thundered forth his exhortations from the pulpit the deep-set eyes held all the fire of a fanatic.

      Yet, to Judith’s surprise, Mrs Aveton had welcomed his suit. Perhaps she welcomed the opportunity to be rid of a girl who was a constant irritation to her.

      Judith walked across the hall, intending to seek the sanctuary of her own room. Her thoughts were in turmoil. The sight of Dan had brought the agony of her loss flooding back again. She had deceived herself into thinking that she had succeeded in forgetting him. Her present pain was as raw as it had been six years ago.

      A footman stopped her before she reached the staircase.

      “Madam has asked to see you, miss, as soon as you returned.”

      With lagging steps, Judith entered the salon, to find Mrs Aveton at her writing desk.

      “There you are at last.” There was no note of welcome in her stepmother’s voice. “Selfish as always! Had you no thought of helping me to write these invitations?”

      “I’m sorry, ma’am. Had you mentioned it, I would have stayed behind.” Judith glanced at the pile of cards. “So many? I thought we had agreed upon a quiet wedding.”

      “Nonsense! The Reverend Truscott is a man of note. His marriage cannot be seen as some hole-and-corner affair. It is to take place in his own church, and he tells me that you are to be married by the bishop.”

      “He called today?”

      “He did, and he was not best pleased to miss you. One might have thought that you would wait for him. What an oddity you are, to be sure! You take no interest in arrangements СКАЧАТЬ