A Regency Officer's Wedding. Carla Kelly

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      ‘That’s it, that’s it, go away, Lord Edmonds,’ he said out of the corner of his mouth as he smiled and waved.

      ‘You’re quite good at that,’ she commented. ‘You know, looking as though you are sorry to see him leave.’

      ‘I’ve had plenty of practice with any number of members of parliament and lords in their chamber who thought they knew more about the management of the fleet than I did,’ he told her. ‘And lately, my sisters have given me ample reason to wish them to the devil.’

      She turned to go back inside and stopped. ‘I can’t face that hallway again.’

      ‘I can’t, either. Let’s go down to the beach.’

      She went with him in perfect agreement. He helped her down the wooden steps to the sand below, where the tide was out. As she watched, perched on a well-placed rock, he went to the edge of the tide and threw in ten keys, one at a time, sending them far out to sea.

      ‘They’ll sink in the sand or be carried further out,’ he told her, wiping his hand on his trousers. He sat beside her on the rock, waiting a moment before he spoke, as though choosing his words. ‘During our walk in the garden, I had told the old rascal that we were newly married. He wondered why we were sleeping in separate chambers.’

      ‘Oh, dear,’ she murmured.

      ‘I politely told him it was none of his business. Still…are we going to lie to my sisters? I own it makes me uneasy to prevaricate any more than I already have. Any thoughts?’

      It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him her real last name, and what had caused her to use her maiden name. One or two breathless sentences would explain the matter, except that she knew the moment for confession has passed. Anything now would paint her as the worst sort of opportunist, and she couldn’t face more recrimination, not after the last five years. ‘No thoughts, really,’ she said, feeling the blush and slow burn of the hypocrite scorch her breasts and face. Maybe he would put it down to the delicacy of the subject.

      ‘I had planned to tell Fannie and Dora precisely why I was marrying The Mouse, but that would have caused The Mouse humiliation. I know. I know. I should have thought of that before I hatched this silly scheme. Maybe it shows you the level of my desperation.’ He turned to look at her directly. ‘So what are we? Long-lost lovers, or a marriage of convenience? Do we lie or tell the truth?’

      She wondered if he was reading her mind, because his eyes had hardened in a way that gave her the shivers. She couldn’t look at him.

      He sighed and returned his gaze to the ocean. ‘I just gave you my admiral look, didn’t I? I fear it is second nature, Sophia. If I tell the truth, that’s just humiliation for you, isn’t it?’

      She nodded, thinking of times in the past five years she had been humiliated, from the ringing denunciation of her late husband by the Admiralty lords, to the quick glances of former friends, only to have them avoid her, until she disappeared into cheap lodgings.

      He was waiting for her to say something. ‘I think you should tell the truth,’ she said, her voice low. ‘Just get it over with. Maybe they will leave you alone then. That’s what this is all about, isn’t it?’

      He seemed struck by that notion, which surprised her. ‘I suppose it is,’ he said finally, and he sounded disappointed, as though something had changed, but she couldn’t see it. ‘I’m sure you are right. Still…’

      After a long, long silence, he nudged her shoulder. ‘Maybe I can manage one more lie,’ he said at last as he stood up and offered her his arm again. ‘Why should you be embarrassed again?’

      ‘I don’t mind,’ she told him.

      ‘You should,’ he said. ‘After all, you’re the wife of a retired admiral now and someone of consequence.’

      ‘I’m a penniless lady’s companion!’ she said, feeling anger flare, where before there had been embarrassment. ‘Who are we fooling, when it is just the two of us?’

      He stopped then, took her hand from his arm and clapped his arm around her shoulders for a brief moment, as though trying to squeeze a little heart into her. ‘No, you’re Lady Bright. Humour me. Lady Bright. Sounds perky, doesn’t it?’ He grew serious, matching her mood. ‘We’ll think of something.’

      When? she wondered as they went into the house. She made a point to look up at the ceiling, with all the naughty cupids. This kind man has married me. I need to start proving my worth, she told herself. She returned her gaze to the man beside her. ‘Charles, it is time we took the bull by the horns. This house must be painted, and soon.’

      ‘I know. The neighbours, is it?’

      ‘The neighbours. We will visit them and ask for advice. We will throw ourselves on their mercy and see if we can poach a bailiff.’

      ‘Madam, why didn’t I think of that?’

      ‘Simple,’ she told him. ‘You are used to commanding people. Now it is time to grovel and plead for help. I am going to change into my one other dress and my ugly but serviceable walking shoes.’

      ‘Just near neighbours,’ he told her a half-hour later, as they went down the front steps.

      Sally peered into the bush by the front door. Penelope the Statue was now recumbent, and Starkey was busy on her with a sledgehammer, pounding her into smaller chunks to haul away. ‘That’s a good start,’ she said. ‘We are moving towards respectability.’

      ‘I wonder if lemon trees would grow in this climate,’ her husband said as they walked down the weed-clogged lane. ‘I would like lemon trees flanking the door.’

      ‘We can ask our nearest neighbour.’ Sally pointed to the end of the lane. ‘The banker?’

      ‘Yes. The estate agent apologised over and over for that particular neighbour. He feared I might take exception to settling in the vicinity of a Jew. I assured him I could stand the strain. Hypocrite!’

      They came to the end of the lane. ‘Now we stop and look both ways,’ he said, amusement in his voice. ‘Such a quiet neighbourhood! Come, my dear, let us visit our neighbour.’

      The lane was far tidier than their own, which the admiral pointed out to her with some glee. ‘I expect the man would like our rutty mire to look more like his entrance. I think the estate agent had it all wrong, Sophie dear; we are the liability.’

      ‘Speak for yourself, Charlie,’ she teased, happy to see him in more cheerful spirits.

      ‘Let us be on our best behaviour. You say Jacob Brustein, founding father of Brustein and Carter, is banker to half the fleet? I love this man already.’

      He knocked on the tidy door, then pointed to the small box beside the door. ‘It’s a mezuzah, Sophie. If we were Jewish, we would put a finger to our lips and then touch it.’

      Sally looked around with interest and envy. While not as large as the ramshackle house across the road, it was everything the admiral’s was not. From the honey-coloured stone, to the trellis of yellow roses, to the delicate lace of the curtains in the front room, she saw perfection. I am too impatient, she thought, as she watched СКАЧАТЬ