A Desirable Husband Page 9

  ‘You would have done better to have stayed by his side instead of breaking his heart.’ He did not add, ‘And mine’, which he might have done at the time because now he realised his heart had not been broken; he was surprisingly heart-whole, although with the beautiful and spirited Lady Esme in town he wondered for how much longer.

  ‘It was a question of ideals. Jacques Peaucille was no traitor; it was necessary for him to do as he did. The revolution succeeded.’

  ‘So why aren’t you with him now?’

  ‘He was one of the first to be killed in the uprising.’

  ‘And your father? What of him?’

  ‘He died six months ago.’

  ‘I am sorry for that. I liked him.’

  ‘I know that or you would have come over to the Revolutionary Party with me. You always said you sympathised with the aims of the workers.’

  ‘So I did and still do—it is the methods employed by the mob leaders I could not stomach. It looked to becoming the Terror all over again.’

  ‘It is over now. The old monarchy is no more and we have a new Napoleon, but I am all alone in the world.’

  He gave a harsh laugh. ‘And so you thought of me?’

  ‘I ’ave never stopped thinking of you. And you ’ave thought often of me, n’est-ce pas?’

  ‘Only to wish to God I had never met you.’

  She laughed. ‘Ah, that is better than not thinking of me at all.’

  ‘Go away, Juliette. I have nothing more to say to you.’

  ‘You will change your mind.’

  ‘Never!’

  He hailed a cab. ‘Where are you staying?’

  ‘I am a guest of Mrs Ashbury,’ she said. ‘She ’ave a ’ouse in Clarges Street.’

  ‘I did not know you knew her.’

  ‘I did not before I come to England. ’Er nephew, Mr Gorridge, wrote and asked ’er to invite me.’

  ‘Edward?’

  ‘Yes, Edward. He was kind to me after Papa died and, when ’e ’eard I wanted to come to London, ’e wrote to ’is Aunt Sophie. Victor met me at Dover.’

  ‘Did you know she was also my aunt?’

  ‘Yes, Edward told me.’

  ‘Why didn’t he come himself?’

  ‘Oh, ’e ’ad business in Paris.’

  He helped her into the cab and directed the driver to the address in Clarges Street, but he made no move to accompany her.

  ‘Felix, come with me, I want to talk to you.’

  ‘No, Juliette, we have done talking.’

  ‘Then let us kiss and make up, we do not need speech for that.’

  He did not answer, but nodded to the cabbie, who whipped up his horse and carried her away.

  He considered going back to the ball, but he was so unsettled he knew it would be difficult to act naturally and Esme was perceptive enough to know something was wrong. He needed to calm down before facing her again and apologising for his abrupt departure. Damn Juliette, damn the past, damn the revolution, damn his cousins and everything that came between him and the real love of his life. He could admit it now. Compared with Esme, Juliette was nothing and he had agonised over her betrayal for no good reason.

  Why had she come back into his life now, just when he had begun to see a rosy future with Esme and the only obstacle was the dragon woman who could be overcome in time? The fact that Juliette professed to be alone, had lost both lover and father, would hardly account for it. She was handsome enough and clever enough to find herself a new meal ticket without much trouble. Edward or Victor? He ought to be able to dismiss her, but he found he could not. Something was not right.

  He walked for hours, reliving the past, rehearsing what he would say to Esme, worrying that she might not understand. His personal concerns allowed little space in his head for thinking about his place in society and less for wondering about the effect Juliette’s arrival would have on his standing with the commissioners for the Exhibition and the Duke of Wellington in particular.

  This was brought to the forefront of his mind the following morning when a messenger arrived from Apsley House, asking him to call on the Duke that afternoon. The ageing Duke was still revered by almost everyone and, as Ranger of the Parks, was responsible for ensuring the security of the site and of those involved with every aspect of the Exhibition, be they workmen, exhibitors or visitors. He was especially concerned with the safety of the Queen, the Prince Consort and the Royal family.

  He had been brought out of retirement two years before when the uprisings all over Europe and particularly in France, had threatened to spread to Britain and coincided with the Chartists holding a mass rally on Kennington Common. Extra troops had been brought to the capital and thousands of special constables recruited to guard public buildings. The Queen, on the advice of her ministers, left London. In the end the rally had fizzled out in the rain and those marchers who turned up were peaceful. It was fear of the resurgence of what someone had dubbed ‘those of the pink persuasion’ that caused so much feeling against the Exhibition.

  ‘Pendlebury, glad you could come,’ the Duke greeted him. ‘We are faced with a new threat. Our ambassador in Paris has written to Lord Palmerston that he has heard certain characters of the Revolutionary Party intend to use the Exhibition as a means of promoting unrest among the thousands of British workers expected in town. The Prince will not have troops billeted in the Park because he says it would be against the spirit of the Exhibition, so we must be doubly vigilant.’

  ‘Do you know who these characters are, your Grace?’

  ‘None specifically, but there are many foreigners entering the country even now. They come as visitors to our shores, but their intent is not peaceful.’

  ‘We cannot watch them all, my lord Duke.’

  ‘No, but you have contacts in France, I believe. The name Lefavre has been mentioned.’

  ‘Lefavre!’ he exclaimed in dismay, wondering if the Duke knew his connection with the family. ‘His daughter told me he had died. She has recently arrived in London.’

  ‘It is not the Comte who concerns me. You are acquainted with his daughter?’

  ‘Yes.’ It was said guardedly.

  ‘Then I ask you to do all you can to find out what she knows, particularly in relation to a certain Frenchman called Maillet.’

  The last thing he wanted to do was to have anything to do with Juliette and he wanted to refuse, had almost decided to find some excuse for doing so, when the Duke added, ‘The safety of the realm depends upon being able to nip trouble in the bud. We, in these islands, must be able to sleep peacefully in our beds. And as Prince Albert has set his heart on inviting the world and his wife to London, we must do our best to protect the populace, not least of whom is her Majesty and her consort.’

  Felix nodded and bowed his way out.

  Esme was miserable. She and Felix had been getting along so well; she had even begun to hope that Rosemary was softening towards him because she had stopped grumbling about him and did not snub him when they met in company. As he was so obviously accepted by all their friends, her sister really could have nothing against him except prejudice and that might be overcome. But she had been deceiving herself; the man had only been playing with her, amusing himself until his lady love arrived.

  He was constantly in the Frenchwoman’s company. Esme had seen them laughing together, dancing together, riding in the park, taking carriage rides, attending soirées. Poor Victor’s nose had been properly put out of joint. As had hers. And Rosemary was crowing that she had known all along that he was a queer fish.

  ‘Forget him,’ Miss Bannister said, when she found her crying into her pillow one evening. She was supposed to be dressing to go to a concert with Rosemary and Rowan, but had made no move to take off her afternoon dress. ‘He is not worth your tears.’

  ‘Why, Banny, why did it happen? Am I too plain? Am I too young? Or boring? Miss Lefavre is beautiful and she is more his age and I do not think she can bore him or he would not spend so much time i
n her company. And she is very popular with the gentlemen. They are always crowding round her laughing. I wish I could be like her.’

  ‘Never wish that, child. You are you and worth a dozen of her; if he cannot see that then he is blind.’

  Esme rubbed the tears from her eyes and sat up. ‘Perhaps I should try and open his eyes.’

  ‘Now, miss, if you are thinking of more mischief, I beg you to think before you act. The consequences could ruin your reputation and with it your chance of finding a husband.’

  ‘Why, Banny?’ she asked in surprise. ‘What did you think I had in mind?’

  ‘I don’t know, but when I see that gleam in your eye it reminds me of the times you fell into scrapes when you were little and the day you came home after going up in that balloon. I nearly had a seizure when Lady Trent came back and told me what had happened.’

  ‘You are not to speak of that. No one knows it was me.’

  ‘I know that and my lips are sealed, but you are a grown woman and should behave like one. If the man does not want you, for whatever reason, look elsewhere for a husband.’

  Esme did not answer, simply because her head was buzzing. It was foolish to sit and mope when it was not in her nature to mope. She had to do something. Faint heart never won fair lady, and it never won a handsome man, either. But how to go about it, she had no idea.

  The conundrum occupied her all through the concert. How could she make him see her, not as an amusing companion, but as a wife? She was so absorbed she did not even notice he was in the audience until the interval when everyone moved from their seats to go into the next room for refreshments. She suddenly found herself within three feet of him.

  ‘Good evening, Lady Trent, Lady Esme, my lord.’ This last addressed to Rowan who managed a grunted ‘Pendlebury’ in acknowledgement.

  Esme looked into his face, trying to see if there had been any change in his countenance, if his eyes betrayed the fact that he had cooled towards her, but they were searching her face, just as they had done the first time he had seen her. They were as warm and intent as they had been then, except there was now no sign of amusement there. She had resented that at first, thinking he was laughing at her, but now she would have given anything to see evidence of it in his eyes. She began to hope that she could regain what had been lost. She smiled. ‘Lord Pendlebury, are you enjoying the concert?’

  ‘Very much.’ The sight of her smiling face twisted his gut into knots. He wanted to grab her into his arms and kiss her until she was breathless. He might have been tempted to try if they had not been in a crowded room and if she had not been accompanied by the dragon and her husband. But even the dragon was less of a threat than Juliette, who stood behind him, waiting to be presented to Viscount and Viscountess Trent.

  ‘Your friend is waiting for you,’ Esme said, as her sister and brother-in-law avoided the civility by proceeding into the dining room, expecting Esme to follow.

  He wanted to tell her the truth, longed to tell her Juliette was not his friend and if he had his way he would never see her or speak to her again, but he had been sworn to secrecy. If he told Esme he was acting on the Duke of Wellington’s orders and she let slip what he had said, however innocently, the consequences could be disastrous. ‘Yes.’

  ‘I wish you a pleasant evening, my lord.’

  He hesitated wondering what he could say to detain her, to let her know that his evening would be far from pleasant, that pandering to Juliette and pretending to have forgiven her for her betrayal was the last thing he wanted to do. How he had ever thought himself in love with her, he could not imagine. If he could only obtain the information the Duke wanted, then he could put an end to the whole sorry business. He smiled a little wryly. ‘Good night, my lady.’

  Esme watched the Frenchwoman drag him off and then followed her sister, but the encounter had told her one thing. Lord Felix Pendlebury was not happy. She wanted to smooth his brow and take away that forlorn look and make him smile again, but she could not compete with an old love that had never quite gone away.

  Esme was out riding with Rosemary one afternoon when they came upon MrAshbury, also riding, and stopped to speak to him. He had no title and so Rosemary did not consider him as a husband for Esme, for which Esme was much relieved. She did not like the man; there was something slimy about him. She could not blame Miss Lefavre for preferring Felix. He greeted them politely, talked of the weather, spoke of Lady Aviemore’s ball, which had raised a considerable sum for the Exhibition. ‘It looks as though it will be going ahead,’ he said. ‘Money is coming in thick and fast.’

  ‘More’s the pity,’ Rosemary told him. ‘We have always been against it.’

  ‘I can see you would find the upheaval almost on your doorstep somewhat of a nuisance,’ he said. ‘But it will disappoint those planning to visit these shores from abroad and those hoping to profit from it. There are always two sides to a coin.’

  ‘Quite.’

  ‘You are not with Lord Pendlebury today, MrAshbury?’ This from Esme, who really wanted to know if Felix was with Juliette.

  ‘No, but I shall see him this evening. We are going to the Adelphi to see Esmeralda.’ He smiled suddenly. ‘Is that your true name, Lady Esme?’

  ‘No, I have always been plain Esme.’

  ‘Esme, yes,’ he said gallantly. ‘But plain, decidedly not.’

  She blushed. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Do you have a message you wish me to give Lord Pendlebury?’

  ‘No, no,’ she said quickly. ‘It was only that you are so much in his company, I wondered if he had gone away.’

  ‘No, he would not go while the inducements to stay are so compelling.’

  ‘You refer to Miss Lefavre?’

  ‘Who else? We are constantly a three.’ He paused, suddenly brightening. ‘Would you consider coming to the theatre with me, my lady, and making up a four? We have taken a box.’

  ‘We are engaged for tonight, Mr Ashbury,’ Rosemary said quickly. ‘Another time, perhaps. Now, if you will excuse us, the horses are becoming restless.’

  He touched his hat and they parted.

  ‘I did not know we were engaged for tonight,’ Esme commented as they rode on.

  ‘Rowan and I are dining with Colonel Sibthorp.’ The Colonel was a Member of Parliament and one of the most vociferous voices to be heard against the Exhibition. ‘I have to go to support Rowan. I am sure you can amuse yourself for once.’

  ‘Of course I can. Don’t give me another thought.’

  It was as well that her sister did not notice the gleam in her eye, which Miss Bannister knew presaged mischief, or she would have been alarmed.

  While Rosemary was dressing to go out, Esme wrote a note to Mr Ashbury, telling him that she found she could accompany him to the theatre after all, and if he would like to call for her at half past seven, she would be ready. She sent a footman to deliver it to his lodgings. Then she made some alterations to one of the gowns Lucy had given her. It was a black taffeta with huge puffed sleeves, over narrow beige lace under-sleeves. The same lace was used to make a shawl collar to fill in the neckline. In no time the lace had been ripped out and the gown hung back in her wardrobe. Then she went down to dine with Miss Bannister, demure in watered silk, buttoned up to the neck.

  Rosemary and Rowan came to say goodbye as they finished eating. ‘You’ll be all right, won’t you?’ Rosemary asked her.

  ‘Of course I will. I have Banny for company.’

  As soon as they had gone, Esme jumped up. ‘Come on, Banny, help me to dress and then put on your best bib and tucker, we are going out.’ She did not wait for a reply, but hurried from the room to put action to words.

  ‘Esme, what do you mean, we are going out?’ Miss Bannister demanded, toiling up the stairs behind her. ‘I never heard Lady Trent mention it.’

  ‘No, she was too busy getting herself ready. I believe it is an important evening for her.’ She began stripping off her gown as she spoke. ‘Come on, we mustn’t
be late.’

  ‘But you can’t go out alone, child, you know you can’t.’

  ‘I am not going alone. You are coming with me and we are to be escorted by Mr Ashbury.’ She fetched the black dress and pulled it over her head. ‘Do it up for me, please,’ she said, presenting her back to the governess.

  ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘To the theatre. The Adelphi. We are going to see Esmeralda. Mr Ashbury asked me this afternoon when we were out riding.’

  ‘And your sister agreed?’

  ‘She did not exactly disagree.’ She sat down at her dressing table. ‘How shall I do my hair?’

  Miss Bannister, looking in the mirror at her charge, was taken aback by what she saw. ‘Esme, you cannot go out like that. It is not becoming. You are showing far too much…chest.’

  Esme did indeed feel a little naked, but having decided on her course of action, she was not going to back out and there was no time to replace the lace. ‘I shall wear the silk shawl Rosemary bought me, the one with all the lovely colours in it, and take a fan.’

  ‘I am not at all happy about this, Esme.’

  ‘It is not for you to be happy or unhappy,’ Esme told her tartly and then regretted her words when she saw the look of shock and hurt on the old lady’s face. ‘Oh, Banny, don’t look so downpin. I did not mean to be unkind, but I intend to go and if you do not come with me I shall go without a chaperon.’

  ‘You would not be so daring.’

  ‘Try me.’

  ‘Why? Whatever has got into your head?’