April Lady Read online

  ‘For God’s sake, no! At least let me be spared that!’

  She was startled, for the words had burst from him with savage violence. Her eyes leaped to his, and she recoiled instinctively from the blaze of anger she saw there. ‘Cardross – !’

  ‘Be silent!’ He flung round towards his desk, and wrenched open one of its drawers. ‘You need explain nothing to me – as you perceive!’

  She stood staring in utter amazement, almost unable to believe her eyes, for what he had taken from the drawer and tossed contemptuously on to the desk was the Cardross necklace.

  From a whirl of conjecture nothing coherent emerged; she was so much at a loss that she could only gasp: ‘You have it!’

  ‘Yes, Madam Wife, I have it!’ he replied.

  Relief swept over her. ‘Oh, how thankful I am!’ she cried. ‘But how – why – I don’t understand!’

  ‘Don’t you? Then I will tell you!’ he said harshly. ‘It was brought to me not an hour ago by an astute little jeweller whose son – neither as astute, nor, I fancy, as honest as himself! – had bought it, yesterday, for the sum of two thousand pounds! I imagine he must have blessed himself for his good fortune: it cannot be every day that such easy clients present themselves! He would be obliged to cut the necklace up, of course, but even so it is worth a trifle more than two thousand, you know. No, you don’t know, do you?’

  She hardly heard the bitter, jeering note in his voice, or grasped the implication of his words. She was staring at him with knit brows, rather pale, and with her breath coming short and light. ‘Yesterday,’ she repeated. ‘Yesterday? Who – Did he tell you – who?’

  His lips curled disdainfully. ‘No, he didn’t tell me that. His fair client – understandably, one feels! – was heavily veiled.’ He caught the tiny sigh of relief that escaped her. ‘Nor am I quite such a flat as to have wished for further information on that head!’ he said, the savagery again rampant in his voice. ‘A lady – unquestionably a lady! A young lady, dressed in the first stare of fashion, who would not disclose her name – how should she, indeed? – or accept a banker’s draft in payment! Do you suppose, when I had been told that, that I catechised Catworth?’

  ‘Catworth?’ she said quickly. ‘The man who came to see you – came twice to see you – has just been with you?’

  ‘Exactly so! If only you had known! – Is that what you are thinking, my sweet love? How should you have known? It was not he who bought the Cardross necklace for a song! You met the son – quite a knowing one, in his way, I should suppose, but by no means as downy as the father! If my new-found acquaintance is to be believed, he had never seen or heard of the Cardross necklace. Well; it may be so! I am much in debt to the father, and should be reluctant to disbelieve him. After all, I have never dealt with a Cranbourn Alley jeweller. Perhaps young Catworth is not fly, but green! It is otherwise with the elder Catworth. He recognized the necklace the instant it was shown him, and saw his duty clear before him! I must always regret that I was not just in the humour to enjoy the scene as it deserved to be enjoyed! So discreet, he was! so virtuous! Not an ungentlemanly word spoken throughout! He did not even permit himself to hope for my future patronage, and he accepted without a blink every whisker that I uttered! An admirable man – I must certainly place a little business in his way! How very shabby it would be if I did not!’

  He paused, but she did not speak, or move. There was a queer, blank look in her eyes: had he but known it, she was less concerned with the injustice of what he had said than with the realization of what must be the true story.

  He picked up the necklace, and put it back in the drawer. Turning the key in the lock, and removing it, he said sardonically: ‘You will forgive me, I trust, if henceforward I keep it in my own charge! I am persuaded you must, for you have never admired it, or wished to wear it, have you? You should have discovered its worth, however, before you set out to dispose of it. I cannot have my wife so easily gulled, Lady Cardross!’

  At that, she blinked, and half lifted one hand in a beseeching gesture. ‘Ah, no! Giles, Giles!’

  It did not move him. ‘Oh, don’t waste your cajolery on me, my pretty one! You will catch cold at that now! I was a bigger flat than you, but, believe me, the game is up! You hoaxed me wonderfully: bowled me out with that sweet face, and those innocent ways! I thought I was up to every move on the board, but when I saw you – when you put your hand in mine, and looked up at me, and smiled –’ He broke off, and seemed to make an effort to master the rage that was consuming him. ‘You must pardon me! I had not meant to open my lips on this subject until I had had time to recover, in some sort, from the chagrin of having every suspicion, forced on me during the few months of our marriage, confirmed! Well! I have come by my deserts! I should have known better than to have been taken in by that lovely face of yours, or to have believed that under your charming manners you had a heart to be won! To be sure, you never gave me reason to think it, did you? How unjust of me to blame you for that! I will engage not to do so again, but must try to fulfil better my side of the bargain. It has been brought home to me how lamentably short of expectation I have fallen, but that can be mended, and shall be. Tell me, my sweet life, at what figure do you set your beauty, your dutiful submission, your admirable discretion, and your unfailing politeness?’

  She had stood quite still, neither flinching from the ugly shafts aimed at her, nor making any further attempt to speak. She was very white, but although she heard what was being said to her she hardly attended to it. He was saying such terrible things, but he did not know the truth: he was saying those things to some creature who did not exist, not to her. It hurt her that he could so misjudge her, but she never thought of blaming him. Just so had she misjudged Dysart, and with far less cause.

  ‘Well? Why do you hesitate? Or don’t you know what I’m worth?’

  She looked at him, and saw a stranger. She couldn’t tell him all the truth while this black mood held him, much less disclose to him the shocking suspicion in her own heart. In the end he might have to know that too, but it was not certain yet. But if a worse disaster than he knew threatened him there might still be yet time to avert it. Only she must not waste precious moments in trying to justify herself, or expose Dysart and Letty to the white heat of his anger. Later she would tell him, but not now, when her own part in the affair had suddenly become a matter of very little importance beside what might well prove to be Letty’s.

  She tried to speak, and found that she had too little command over her voice. He was still watching her with those hard, angry eyes. That hurt her, and made tears spring to her own. She winked them away, and managed to say, with a pathetic attempt at a smile wavering on her lips: ‘I can’t answer you, you s-see. Later, I will. Not now!’

  She went rather blindly towards the door. His voice checked her, even startled her a little. ‘No, come back! I didn’t mean it, Nell! I didn’t mean it!’

  He took a quick stride towards her, only to be brought up short by the opening of the door, and the entrance of his butler.

  ‘I beg your lordship’s pardon!’ Farley said apologetically.

  ‘Well, what is it?’ Cardross snapped.

  ‘I thought you would wish to know, my lord, that Sir John Somerby called to see your lordship ten minutes ago. He is waiting in the saloon.’

  ‘Tell him I will be with him presently!’

  ‘No, please go to him now!’ Nell said gently, and left the room without again looking at him.

  She went swiftly up the stairs, past her own rooms, and up another flight to Letty’s. Martha, running up two minutes later, in answer to the summons of a bell clanging so wildly that it was plain its pull had been tugged with peremptory vigour, found her standing in the middle of the room, and quailed under the sternly accusing look in her eyes. ‘Oh, my lady! I didn’t know it was your ladyship!’

  ‘Where is you
r mistress, Martha?’

  With the instinct of her kind to admit nothing, Martha said defensively: ‘I’m sure I couldn’t say, my lady.’

  ‘Indeed! Then will you come down, if you please, to his lordship,’ Nell said calmly, gathering up her half-train and moving towards the door.

  That was enough to induce Martha, in a panic, to tell all she knew. It was not very much. She had indeed accompanied Letty to Bond Street that afternoon, where they had met Selina Thorne. Letty had sent her home then, saying that she would go with her cousin to Bryanston Square, and her aunt would convey her home later in the carriage.

  ‘Was Mrs Thorne with Miss Selina?’ Nell demanded.

  ‘Oh yes, my lady!’ Martha said, a little too glibly.

  ‘Did you see her?’

  Martha hesitated, but the unwavering blue gaze disconcerted her, and she muttered that Miss Selina had said she was in Hookham’s.

  ‘I see. At what hour was this?’

  ‘I – I don’t know, my lady! Not to say precisely! It was when my Lord Dysart was with your ladyship that we stepped out.’

  ‘Lord Dysart left this house before two o’clock. It is now half-past six, but Lady Letitia hasn’t returned, and you felt no anxiety?’

  ‘I thought – I thought it was her ladyship that rang for me!’

  Nell’s eyes swept the room. ‘But you have not laid out her ball-dress?’

  ‘Her ladyship said – perhaps she should not go to the Assembly, my lady! She said – not to get in a pucker if she was late, or to say anything to anyone, except that she was gone to Mrs Thorne’s, but she didn’t tell me more! On my truth and honour she didn’t, my lady!’

  ‘You must have known, however, that she didn’t mean to return. No, don’t tell me lies, if you please! Lady Letitia does not take her brushes and combs and her toothpowder when she goes shopping.’

  Martha burst into tears, sobbing that she had not known, that her ladyship had given her a parcel to carry, saying it contained some things she meant to give to Miss Selina. Yes, it was quite a large bundle, but she didn’t know what was in it; her ladyship had packed it herself, and never told her; and she would happily lay down her life for her ladyship, particularly when the dear angel was being made so miserable as never was, and not a soul to turn to but one who had served her from the cradle, as it were.

  ‘That will do. I think you have acted this part with the intention of doing your mistress a service, and did not mean to help her to do anything that would bring down the most dreadful consequences on her. But if she has indeed eloped you will have done her the worst turn that lay in your power. I hope she has not – indeed, I believe that Mr Allandale has a greater regard for her reputation than you have shown. I don’t know what I may be obliged to tell his lordship: that must depend on whether I can find her ladyship, and bring her safely home. And also, a little, on your conduct now.’

  The terrified Martha, eyes starting from her head, and teeth chattering, began to gasp out promises of abject obedience, but Nell cut short her protestations, saying: ‘Stop crying, and listen to me! I am going immediately to Mrs Thorne’s, and if I find your mistress there, or can discover from Miss Selina where she may have gone, perhaps no one need know what has taken place today. So you will not speak of this to anyone. Do you understand me? If you should be asked where I am, you must say that you don’t know. Now go downstairs again and desire Sutton to come to my bedchamber, if you please!’

  Sutton, entering her room five minutes later, in the expectation of helping her to change her dress, found her clad for the street, in her bonnet and a light pelisse. Before she could give expression to her surprise, Nell said coolly: ‘Sutton, it is very vexatious, but I am obliged to go out. I don’t know how long I may be.’ She raised her eyes from the gloves she was drawing over her fingers, and said: ‘Perhaps you may guess my errand. I am persuaded I can rely on your discretion, if that is so.’

  ‘Your ladyship may always do so. But if, as I fancy is the case, you are going to find Lady Letitia, I beg you will permit me to accompany you.’

  ‘Thank you. It is unnecessary, however. I – have a particular reason for wishing you to remain here. I am very reluctant to let it be known to anyone – if Lady Letitia has done something foolish which – which perhaps I may be able to mend!’

  ‘I understand you perfectly, my lady. My lips shall be sealed, come what may!’ announced Sutton, in prim accents, but with the resolute mien of one bound for the torture chamber.

  ‘Well, I don’t think anything very dreadful will come of it,’ said Nell, smiling faintly. ‘His lordship doesn’t dine at home tonight, so perhaps he will not enquire for me. But if he should do so, could you say that you suppose me to have gone out to dinner? He won’t ask then where Lady Letitia is, because he will think she must be with me.’

  ‘Certainly, my lady. He shall learn nothing from me.’

  ‘I am very much obliged to you. One other thing: can you, do you think, contrive to draw George out of the hall so that he doesn’t see me leave the house? He would think it odd, and perhaps talk of it, you know.’

  ‘Very likely, my lady! I will step downstairs immediately, and desire him to fetch up your ladyship’s dressing-case from the boxroom,’ said Sutton with aplomb.

  ‘But what in the world should I want it for?’ Nell objected.

  ‘That, my lady, is none of George’s business!’ replied Sutton coldly.

  Whatever George may have thought, the ruse proved successful. There was no one in the hall to see Nell slip out of the house; and no one within earshot when she softly shut the front-door behind her. She heaved a sigh of relief, and set off quickly in the direction of the nearest hackney-coach stand.

  Thirteen

  Mrs Thorne’s butler, opening the door to Nell in time to see the hackney which had brought her to Bryanston Square move slowly away, was very much surprised that her ladyship should have deigned to enter such a lowly vehicle, but she had expected that he would be, and told him in the easiest way that her carriage had suffered a slight accident. He seemed satisfied with this explanation, but when she asked for his mistress he was obliged to tell her that Madam had retired to her room to change her dress for dinner.

  ‘Then, if you please, be so good as to ask your mistress if I may go up to her,’ said Nell, as though it were the most natural thing in the world for a lady of quality to arrive in a common hackney half-an-hour before dinner-time, wearing a morning-dress, and coolly demanding to be taken up to her hostess’s bedroom. The butler looked doubtful, but he went to deliver this message, returning almost immediately to beg her ladyship to step upstairs.

  Mrs Thorne was seated before her dressing-table, enveloped in a voluminous wrapper, and with her hair only half-pinned up into the elaborate fashion of her choice. She was a stout, goodnatured looking woman, and when she rose to greet Nell she seemed rather to surge out of her chair. ‘Oh, my dear Lady Cardross, pray come in, and forgive my receiving you in such a way! But I would not keep you waiting while I scrambled on my clothes, and so I told Thomas to bring you to me straightaway.’

  ‘It is very kind of you. I should not be troubling you at such an awkward time,’ Nell said, shaking hands. ‘May I talk privately to you for a few minutes?’

  ‘Oh, my dear! Yes, yes, to be sure you may! Go and see if Miss Fanny is dressed yet, Betty! I will ring for you when I want you back again. Set a chair for her ladyship before you go! Do, pray, be seated, Lady Cardross!’ She herself sank back into the chair before the dressing-table, saying, almost before her maid was out of the room: ‘Tell me at once, my dear! When Thomas came to say that you were below, such a presentiment shot through me! And I can see by your face I was right!’

  ‘I don’t know – I hope not! Mrs Thorne, has Letty been with you today?’

  ‘Oh, my goodness gracious me!’ cried Mrs Thorne. �
��If I didn’t know it! No, my dear, I haven’t seen Letty since she visited us last week. Don’t tell me she has gone off with young Allandale! Wait! Where are my smelling-salts? Now tell me everything!’

  Clutching the vinaigrette, and warding off a series of palpitations by frequently sniffing its aromatic contents, she managed to listen to the story Nell unfolded without succumbing to the various nervous ills which threatened to prostrate her. She was very much shocked, interrupting the tale with groans, and horrified ejaculations, but there was nothing she could do to help Nell, because she knew nothing. She had never encouraged Mr Allandale: girls liked to flirt, and there was no harm in that; but when she had learnt that Letty considered herself engaged to a young man without a penny to bless himself with, and no prospects worthy to be mentioned, she had never been more upset in her life.

  Nell was obliged to break in on her volubility, and to beg that Selina might be sent for. Mrs Thorne was perfectly agreeable, but she could not think that Selina would be able to throw any light on the mystery of her cousin’s whereabouts. When she was told of the meeting that afternoon in Bond Street, she could scarcely be brought to believe that such a thing could have happened. ‘Selina going off to Bond Street! Oh, you don’t mean it, Lady Cardross! I never heard of such a thing! To be sure, girls aren’t kept so strict now as they were when I was young – why, not a step outside the house could I take unless my mother, or the governess was with me! And very irksome it was, I can tell you! I made up my mind I wouldn’t use my girls so, and nor I have, but as for letting any of them go jauntering about town without one of her sisters, or Betty, to go with her, that would be quite beyond the line! Good gracious, whatever would people say? It doesn’t bear thinking of, and if I find Martha was telling you the truth, which, however, it’s very likely she wasn’t, I declare Selina shall go to Miss Puttenham’s seminary, say what she will! It was what Mr Thorne said she should do, when Miss Woodbridge left us, but she pleaded so hard against it – well, there! But that Martha would say anything! Depend upon it, my dear Lady Cardross, Selina knows no more than the man in the moon where her cousin may be!’