The Passionate Friends. Meg Alexander

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СКАЧАТЬ shall need very little,” Judith told her quietly. “Ma’am, who is to pay for all this? I would not put you to so much expense.”

      An unbecoming flush stained Mrs Aveton’s cheeks. “The expense must fall upon the bride and her family, naturally. When you are wed, your husband will control your fortune. The creditors will wait until then.”

      “I see.” Judith realised that she herself was to pay. “Shall I finish the invitations for you?”

      “You may continue. Dear me, there is so much to do. My girls, at least, are pleased with their new gowns.”

      Judith was silent, glancing down at the list of names upon the bureau. An exclamation escaped her lips.

      “Well, what is it now?” her stepmother cried impatiently.

      “The Wentworths, ma’am? Lady Wentworth is with child. She won’t be able to accept.”

      “I know that well enough. It need not prevent us sending her an invitation. I detest the woman, and that uppish sister-in-law of hers, but we must not be lacking in our attentions to Lord Wentworth and his family. I have included the Earl and Countess of Brandon, of course. My dear Amelia will be certain to attend.” With this pronouncement she swept from the room.

      As Judith walked upstairs she permitted herself a wry smile, knowing full well that Amelia, Countess of Brandon, would be furious to hear herself described in such familiar terms. Mrs Aveton was her toady, tolerated only for her well-known propensity for gossip.

      Judith sighed. She liked the Earl of Brandon. As head of the Wentworth family and a highly placed member of the Government she knew him only slightly, but he had always treated her with courtesy and kindness. His wife was a cross which he bore with fortitude.

      She removed her coat and bonnet and then returned to the salon. There she sat dreaming for some time, the pile of invitations forgotten. Her life might have been so different had she and Dan been allowed to wed. Now it was all too late.

      “Great heavens, Judith! You have not got on at all.”

      The door opened to admit the Reverend Charles Truscott, with Mrs Aveton by his side.

      “Now, ma’am, you shall not scold my little bride. If I forgive her, I am sure that you may do so too.” The preacher rested a benevolent hand upon Judith’s hair, as if in blessing.

      It was all she could do not to jerk her head away. She rose to her feet and turned to face him, but she could not summon up a smile.

      “So grave, my love? Well, it is to be expected. Marriage is a serious step, but given to us by the Lord especially for the procreation of children. Better to marry than to burn, as the saying goes.”

      Judith had the odd impression that he was almost licking his lips. Revulsion overwhelmed her. How could she let him touch her? Her flesh crawled at the thought. For an instant she was tempted to cry out that it had all been a mistake, that she had changed her mind and no longer wished to wed him, but he and Mrs Aveton had moved away. Now they were deep in conversation by the window. She could not hear what they were saying.

      “The arrangement stands?” Mrs Aveton asked in a low voice.

      “I gave you my word, dear lady. When the money is in my hands, you will receive your share.” The preacher glanced across at his bride-to-be. “I shall earn mine, I think. Your stepdaughter is the oddest creature. Half the time I have no idea what she is thinking.”

      “That need not concern you, sir. Give her enough children, and you will keep her occupied, but you must bear down hard upon her radical notions. She likes to read, and she even writes a little, I believe.”

      “Both most unsuitable occupations for a woman, but she will be taught to forget that nonsense.”

      The Reverend Truscott glanced at his betrothed. There was much else that he would teach her. Judith was no beauty. The brown hair, grave grey eyes, and delicate colouring were not to his taste at all, but her figure was spectacular. Tall and slender, he guessed that his hands would span her waist, but the swelling hips and splendid bosom promised untold pleasures.

      His eyes kindled at the thought, but the prospect of controlling her inheritance gave him even greater joy. He banished his lascivious expression and looked down at the list of guests upon the bureau, noticing at once that there were no ticks against the names of the Wentworth family.

      “My dear child, you must not forget to invite your friends,” he chided. “I know how much you think of them, and I must learn to know them better.”

      “I could well do without the ladies of the family,” Mrs Aveton snapped. “Lady Wentworth is mighty free with her opinions, and as for the Honourable Mrs Peregrine Wentworth…? Words fail me!”

      “A little…er…sprightly, perhaps? The privilege of rank, dear lady. After all, we must speak with charity of our fellow-creatures. And, you are friendly with the Countess of Brandon, are you not?”

      “She thinks no better of them than I do myself…”

      Judith made an unsuccessful attempt to hide her amusement. The animosity was mutual.

      “There now, we have made our dear Judith smile at last! Believe me, my love, your friends will always be welcome at our home.”

      Judith gave him a grateful look. Perhaps he would be kind. It was fortunate that she could not read his mind. The Reverend Truscott knew an enemy when he met one, and Prudence, Lady Wentworth, had left him in no doubt of her own opinion.

      He’d seen her look of disgust as he moved about among his congregation, fawning on the women, and flattering the men. She had surprised him once, when he’d cornered one of his young parishioners beside the vestry. He’d gone too far on that occasion, and the girl was looking distressed.

      Her ladyship had not addressed him, but her dagger-glance was enough to persuade him to hurry away, leaving the girl to rearrange her bodice as best she could.

      Mrs Peregrine was quite another matter. She was a beauty, that one, and he’d sensed the fire beneath the Madonna-like appearance. She hated and despised him. That much was clear. He could not mistake the expression in her huge, dark eyes, but her dislike only served to whet his appetite. He’d conquered such women before, with his talk of love and salvation. It would be a pleasure to add her to his list of victims.

      Looking up, he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror, and felt his usual sense of satisfaction. His looks were the only thing for which he had to thank his actress mother and his unknown father.

      Was he growing too gaunt? He thought not. His tall, spare figure and the dark head with the deep-set eyes and narrow jaw had just a touch of the fanatic. It was no bad thing. A certain air of the vulpine had served him well in his chosen profession. Who could resist him when he thundered forth his message from the pulpit?

      He sensed that Judith was watching him.

      “Forgive me, my dear,” he said easily. “I should not have come to you looking as I do. My duties with parishioners have kept me out all day. You must think me sadly dishevelled, but I could not resist the temptation to call upon you.”

      “Judith thinks nothing of the kind,” Mrs Aveton interposed. “It is good of you to call again, when this foolish girl СКАЧАТЬ