The Husband Season Read online

  ‘Is she home?’

  ‘Not yet, for which I am thankful, for if she had been here while you were out, I do not know what I would have said to her. She would most likely have turned me off for allowing it.’

  ‘She can’t turn you off, Bessie. She does not employ you—my father does. And in any case, no blame can be attached to you for anything.’

  ‘I am glad you think so.’

  * * *

  Once more respectably dressed, Sophie went down to the drawing room to await the return of her aunt. Teddy was waiting for her, his long legs straddling the arm of the chair in which he sat. He righted himself on her entrance. ‘Racketing about on your own is not the thing, Sophie, not the thing at all. And as for accepting rides in high-perch phaetons, that is beyond anything. What can you have been thinking of?’

  ‘I only wanted to get home quickly to change my dress. It was either ride with Reggie or walk through the streets in a soaking wet dress that was clinging to my legs. It would have been too mortifying.’

  ‘That won’t fudge, Sophie. If you had had any sense, you would have gone into the nearest dress shop and bought a dress to come home in.’

  ‘I didn’t think of that and if I had I couldn’t have done it, I did not have enough money on me.’

  ‘You could have put it on account.’

  ‘Whose account? Yours? Aunt Emmeline’s? Mark’s?’

  ‘It would have done no good naming me, but Aunt Emmeline would have stood buff and certainly Mark would.’ He sighed. ‘It is too late now. The damage is done. Reggie wanted to buy you a new dress, but I dissuaded him. It would not do, you know, unless you were affianced to him.’

  ‘I am not completely devoid of sense, Teddy, and I am not affianced to him and never will be. You may rest assured I would certainly not accept a gift from him. And if no one saw me in the phaeton, then there is no damage done, is there?’ As she spoke the image of a smiling stranger with warm brown eyes flashed into her mind.

  ‘Let us hope you are right. I have Reggie’s word he will not speak of it. When Papa gave you into my care, I had no idea what an onerous task it would be. I beg you, Sophie, try not to get into any more scrapes.’

  * * *

  It was after dinner when Sophie and Lady Cartrose retired to the drawing room for tea that Sophie began diffidently to tell her aunt of the morning’s episode. It was a tortuous business, her aunt being so deaf she had to shout what she would rather have whispered in shame, but she got through it at last and waited for her aunt’s reaction.

  ‘To be sure I have seen those high-perch phaetons about,’ she said. ‘They look extremely dangerous to me. It is a wonder you were not upset and killed.’

  Sophie had been expecting to have a peel rung over her. This calm acceptance that all that mattered was that she was not hurt took her by surprise. ‘You are not angry with me?’

  ‘No, child. I did far worse things when I was your age and it never did me any harm, but it is to be hoped the young gentleman will not boast of it.’

  ‘He has promised Teddy he would not. Teddy trusts him. They have been friends since their schooldays. That’s how I met him.’

  ‘Then, there is no more to be said. Thankfully I have no more engagements to take me out without you, so I will be able to accompany you in future. Tomorrow we will take one or two afternoon calls and we will shop and buy that ribbon you are so set on. We can play a hand or two of whist in the evening. Mr and Mrs Frederick Malthouse usually come to me on a Thursday evening and Margaret makes up a four, but she will forgo it so that you may take her place.’

  ‘But, Aunt, I do not excel at cards,’ Sophie protested. ‘In fact, I am the world’s worst at whist. Teddy is the card player in our family.’

  Teddy joined them at this point and heard Sophie’s last remark. ‘Not me,’ he said. ‘I have forsworn gambling, as Sophie well knows.’

  ‘I am glad to hear it,’ Emmeline said, giving him a beaming smile. ‘But a little game among family and friends is perfectly in order. You may join us if Sophie does not care for it.’

  He had a cup of tea with them and, hating the idea of spending the whole evening indoors with them struggling to converse, he made his excuses and took his leave. If Sophie wondered where he was off to, she dismissed it as none of her business, and she really had no right to haul him over the coals when her behaviour had hardly been exemplary.

  * * *

  ‘Mark, you have been closeted in this room long enough,’ Adam said. ‘Leave all that paper and come out and have dinner with me at White’s.’

  ‘It is this concert,’ Mark said. ‘You have no idea how much preparation is involved. Musicians, singers, all of them temperamental in their demands, have to be appeased, the programme decided on and the order of all the items arranged so as not to offend any of them. Refreshments and the moving of the furniture must be organised, besides deciding how the donations are to be accepted, on a tray, in a bag, during the interval or at the end. That is, if I have any. If I don’t, it will all have been a dreadful waste of time and effort, not to say money, and Jane will be very disappointed.’

  ‘Don’t you have a secretary to do that sort of thing?’

  ‘I left him behind at Broadacres. I thought he would be more useful there.’

  ‘There is still a week to go, Mark. You can afford to take one evening off, surely? Who was it said to me, not two days ago, that all work and no play is not good for a man?’

  Mark laughed and stood up. ‘You are right. Let us go out.’

  They could have used Mark’s town carriage or hired chairs but decided to walk. The rain had gone, the night was fine and balmy and Mark said he needed some fresh air. ‘How have you been amusing yourself?’ he asked as they walked.

  ‘I would hardly call it amusement. I have been endeavouring to track down Henry Hunt to find out his intentions but no one will tell me where to find him. I think he is avoiding me.’

  ‘I am not surprised. You represent the enemy, the hated oppressors of the poor.’

  ‘But I do not.’

  ‘They don’t know that, do they? I am sure if you were to infiltrate his meetings you would be looked on as an agent provocateur and quickly bundled out of it.’

  ‘You are probably right. I shall have to rely on my speech. Perhaps after that, they will see I am on their side.’

  ‘How is the speech coming along?’

  ‘Slowly. I begin to wonder if I did right to come to London and might have fared better staying in Saddleworth.’

  ‘Well, you are here now, so you might as well enjoy your free time.’

  Adam laughed. ‘And the same goes for you, cousin.’

  ‘Touché.’

  They turned into the club and were soon seated in the dining room, giving an order for onion soup, turbot, roast partridges, raised mutton pie, broiled mushrooms and a selection of vegetables. They followed this with sweet pastries, clotted cream and a jelly. Once replete, they adjourned to the card room for a few hands of whist.

  They played well together, not too deep but enough to satisfy the two gentlemen who made up the four, one of whom was Sir Reginald Swayle, known to Mark, and the other Captain Mountworthy, of the Hussars, on leave and looking for a little diversion. The captain, not being as well up in the stirrups as the other three, broke the party up a little after midnight, having come to the end of the stake he’d allowed himself. Adam and Mark both said they fancied an early night and rose to go.

  They were about to pass two gentlemen who had just arrived when Adam heard his cousin address one of them. ‘Teddy, you here?’

  ‘Yes, you cannot expect me to sit listening all evening to Sophie trying to hold a conversation with Aunt Emmeline. I should die of boredom or laugh aloud and disgrace myself.’

  Mark turned to Adam. ‘Adam, may
I introduce my wife’s brother, Mr Edward Cavenhurst. Teddy, my cousin, Adam Trent, Viscount Kimberley.’

  The two men shook hands, murmured, ‘How do you do?’ then Teddy, indicating his companion, said, ‘Do you know Captain Toby Moore?’

  ‘I do.’ Mark’s voice was clipped and made Adam turn to him in surprise. There was obviously no love lost between the two men. He shrugged his shoulders and followed his cousin, leaving Teddy and Captain Moore to make their way into the club. They heard Teddy greeting Sir Reginald with great affability as they made their way out of the building.

  ‘A young dandy,’ Adam said as they walked on. ‘You seemed not pleased to see him.’

  ‘Oh, I like him well enough, but he is too fond of the gaming tables. He is in town to escort his sister, not to indulge his weakness.’

  ‘His sister being the young lady you have recently left in the care of her aunt?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I would have expected her parents to bring her to town.’

  ‘Lady Cavenhurst is a very poor traveller and Sir Edward much wrapped up in his estate, which is only now recovering from a near disaster two years ago—a disaster I might add, partially brought about by that rake shame, Captain Moore. I wonder at Teddy associating with him. I fear I shall have to keep an eye on him while I am here, though what I can do to stop him, I have no idea. Besides, I shall have to go home to Hadlea after the concert.’

  ‘You are not his keeper, Mark, and he is surely of an age to know what he is about.’

  ‘Gambling is an addiction with him, Adam. He has the best of intentions, but they fly away at the least temptation. I wish he had not come to town, but he was the only person who could escort Sophie, and Sophie was determined.’ He grinned ruefully. ‘When Sophie is determined, there is no gainsaying her. Being the youngest she has always been indulged, not only by her parents but by her brother and older sisters.’

  ‘She sounds like a spoiled filly to me.’

  ‘No, you mistake me. She is a charming young lady, if a little headstrong, which don’t signify to the young blades who crowd round her at Hadlea. Whether she will enjoy the same adoration in town, I cannot say. She will be at the concert, so you may be able to judge then.’

  ‘I shall look forward to being introduced to her and making up my own mind,’ Adam said.

  * * *

  He was busy in the meantime lobbying for support for the mill workers and the repeal of the Corn Laws, but found very few takers, certainly not among his peers. What he needed was support in the Commons, but even there, the rules for standing for that institution were such that very few of them could claim working-class roots. If only he could prevail upon the likes of Orator Hunt to compromise on their demands, he might have some success, but Hunt seemed to have gone to ground. He had asked Alfred Farley if he could winkle out his whereabouts.

  Alfred might be a valet who looked after his clothes and brought him his shaving things of a morning, but he was more than that. He had been serving him since he had found him in a back alley in Seven Dials, half-starved and begging, four years before. Something about the man had made him take pity on him and he had learned he had once been a soldier and had served under Adam’s brother, but he had been discharged when he’d taken a piece of shrapnel from a cannonball in his leg. It had healed, but his leg was scarred and he walked with a limp. He was not an ideal valet, but he was a faithful servant and could be relied on in a crisis.

  * * *

  Adam had had to put all that aside in order to attend Mark’s concert. He could hardly fail to do so considering the house was in an uproar of preparation and Mark distracted. The house was large, airy and well furnished, if a little old-fashioned, not that such a thing would have put off his guests; the Wyndhams were known and respected in town as well as at Hadlea, and he did not for a moment share Mark’s doubts that no one would turn up. All was ready on the night, and after a light repast with Mark at six o’clock, he went up to his room to change.

  He had long given up the exaggerated dress he had adopted in his youth and now favoured simplicity, but it was an elegant simplicity that set off his splendid physique and spoke volumes for his tailor, not to mention Farley, who had learned to make sure his cravats were starched to exactly the right stiffness, enough to maintain their folds, but not enough to cause him discomfort. Tonight he favoured a dark blue tailcoat in superfine that he had been assured was called midnight blue, matching pantaloons and a white brocade waistcoat with silver buttons. Never one to be fussy about his hair, which had a natural curl, he succumbed to Farley brushing it and combing into some semblance of style.

  He could hear people arriving as he left his room to go down to the first floor, where he found his cousin standing sentinel at the ballroom door that had been furnished with a small stage and rows of chairs.

  ‘How goes it?’ Adam asked, standing beside him.

  ‘Well, I think. The chairs are filling up.’

  ‘So I should hope, considering you have the cream of the musical world to entertain everyone.’

  They heard voices down in the hall as more guests arrived, and in a few moments, a party came up, led by a matronly woman in a hideous purple gown and a turban with a long feather, escorted by young Cavenhurst, but he hardly had eyes for them because they were accompanied by a young lady who caused him to catch his breath.

  ‘Lady Cartrose, how do you do,’ Mark said, while Adam endeavoured not to allow his twitching lips to become a broad grin. ‘May I present my cousin, Lord Kimberley.’

  Pulling himself together, Adam bowed. ‘Your servant, my lady.’

  ‘And this is my sister-in-law, Miss Sophie Cavenhurst,’ Mark went on, unaware of the unspoken message going from Sophie to Adam, though that gentleman was fully cognisant of the appeal in her blue eyes.

  ‘Miss Cavenhurst, your obedient servant,’ he said, bowing.

  There were more people coming up the stairs, and Mark was obliged to turn to greet them. ‘Adam, will you take Lady Cartrose and Miss Cavenhurst to find good seats before they are all taken up? I will join you later.’

  ‘With the greatest of pleasure,’ he said, offering them an arm each and smiling to himself when Sophie hesitated before taking it.

  They found four seats in the middle of the room, and he found himself seated between Sophie and her aunt. He had a little time to study her while she perused the programme she had found on her chair. She was lovely, there was no doubting that, with her fresh complexion, fair curls and expressive blue eyes, which he could not see because she was determined not to look in his direction. He could hardly believe she was the same girl he had rescued from the soldiers, nor the one he had seen flaunting herself in that high-perch phaeton with that coxcomb, Sir Reginald Swayle. He hadn’t known his name at the time, only having been introduced to him at White’s.

  ‘Are you enjoying your stay in London?’ he asked her.

  ‘So far,’ she said, without looking at him.

  ‘Only so far?’

  ‘Well, one never knows what is around the corner, does one?’

  ‘No, nor whom one might meet,’ he added.

  ‘Very true, and sometimes they are not the people one would wish to meet.’

  ‘I am sorry if that has happened to you,’ he said, assuming she meant him. ‘But sometimes we find ourselves in situations where it cannot be avoided.’

  ‘Quite.’

  There was a long silence after this. She was evidently not in the mood to explain herself and as the seats were filling up and the musicians tuning their instruments ready to begin, he gave up trying. Instead, he turned to Lady Cartrose, but as she could not hear what he was saying above the noise of the orchestra and people talking round them, he gave that up, too.

  Mark came in to introduce the quartet that was going to provide the opening music and ever
yone ceased chatting and turned towards the front.

  The seats were so close together, Adam was very aware of the girl beside him; he had only to lean a little sideways and their arms and heads would touch. She appeared engrossed in the music, but there was a tension in the air around her that told him she was not unmindful of his proximity. What was she thinking? Was she wishing him anywhere but where he was? He ought to reassure her he would not speak of the episode with the soldiers, or her indiscretion in riding in the phaeton; it would not be the action of a gentleman. But perhaps it would be better to remain silent.

  * * *

  Refreshments were served during the intermission and Adam had perforce to escort his uncommunicative ladies to the dining room, where they were joined by Mr and Mrs Malthouse and Cassandra, and Lord and Lady Martindale with Lucinda.

  It was immediately apparent that Miss Sophie Cavenhurst was not normally taciturn, because she entered into a lively exchange with Cassandra and Lucinda about the merits of the music and the audience and their dress.

  ‘Your gown is exquisite,’ Cassandra said to Sophie. ‘Where did you find that lovely fabric? That green reminds me of sage shot through with silver.’

  ‘My sister found it for me. It might have come from India. Both my brother and brother-in-law spent some time out there. They may have brought it back.’

  ‘And the style is so elegant. Don’t you think so, my lord?’

  Thus appealed to, Adam turned towards Sophie as if to study her sage-green gown, although he had already decided he had rarely seen anything so becoming. It was exquisitely made and fitted the young lady’s figure beautifully. ‘Most certainly,’ he said. ‘But your own gown, Miss Malthouse, is a match for it. It suits its wearer to perfection.’

  Cassandra blushed crimson. ‘You are too kind, my lord.’

  ‘You must not leave Miss Martindale out of your praises,’ Sophie said, smiling at her old friend. ‘I think that pale pink is just right for her colouring.’

  ‘I had no intention of leaving the young lady out,’ he said. ‘You are all three beauties of the first order. I am at a loss to choose between you and you must therefore excuse me.’ He bowed to each in turn and made his escape.