Jane Feather - [V Series] (29 page)

“Miss Moreton’s a very sweet-natured girl,” Judith observed after a minute.

“Very,” the earl concurred. “It’s unfortunate her mother’s ill health makes it difficult for her to be launched as she deserves.”

“But Lady Barret seems willing to take a mother’s place.”

“Ah, yes, Agnes is all kindness,” he said. “Harriet has reason to be grateful.”

“I understand she’s something of an heiress.”

“Is she? I didn’t know.”

Thank you, my lord Gracemere.
The disingenuous denial had told her everything she needed to know.

Shortly after, she set the earl down again at the Apsley House gate and turned her horses toward the Stanhope gate and home. It was later than she’d realized and she was now unlikely to be at home before Marcus. Sebastian, however, appeared fortuitously, just as she turned out of the gate. She drew rein.

“Sebastian, you must accompany me to Berkeley Square.”

“Of course, if you like.” Her brother acceded to this imperative declaration with customary good humor. “Any special reason?”

“I need to arrive home suitably escorted,” she told him. “And besides, there’s something we need to discuss.”

“Carrington objects to your driving without a groom.” There was no questioning inflexion to the remark.

Judith laughed. “How did you guess?”

“Because it’s only natural he would. You’re too careless of convention, Ju.”

“Goodness me! Since when have you become so straitlaced?”

“I haven’t,” Sebastian denied, startled. “At least, I don’t believe I have.”

“It’s Harriet’s influence, I’ll lay odds.”

“Well, what if it is?”

“Don’t be so defensive. I think she’s very sweet, and if you love her then so shall I.… But that brings me to what we have to discuss.”

“Well?”

“I believe Gracemere is courting Harriet—or courting her fortune, at any rate.”

Sebastian was very still beside her. When he spoke, his voice was almost neutral. “What makes you think so?”

Judith told him and he heard her out in silence. “After all, he’s married one heiress … snatched her from under the nose of a most desirable suitor. It doesn’t seem unlikely he’d try it again,” she concluded. “And I can’t think of any other reason why Agnes Barret should be so sedulously cultivating an innocent girl in her first Season. The situation’s perfect: Harriet’s mother can’t—or won’t—oversee her progress. Agnes steps in, wins their confidence, and what’s more natural than that she should introduce Harriet to her own friends … or lover, as the case may be? The Moreton fortune will benefit both of them, presumably.”

“Damn the man to hell!” Sebastian hissed with abrupt vehemence. “Everywhere we turn, he’s there, twisting his black evil into every thread of our lives.”

“You can defeat him on this,” Judith said calmly.
“When you bring him down with the cards, you’ll destroy every other plan he has.”

Sebastian said nothing, but his jaw was tight as he stared rigidly ahead.

“Harriet loathes Gracemere.”

“She told you?” Surprised, he turned to look at her.

“Yes. Although I’m sure she doesn’t realize why he’s so encroaching. But if she’s not offering him any encouragement, he’s going to have his work cut out to make any headway.”

“If only this was over and done with!” Sebastian exclaimed in a vehement undertone.

Judith said nothing, knowing her brother would recover his equilibrium in his own way, and by the time they reached Berkeley Square, he was chatting quite easily again as if that impassioned wish had never been uttered.

Lacking a groom, she drove the horses to the mews herself. Marcus was standing in the cobbled yard, talking with the head stableman as his wife drove in. He strolled over to her. “One of these days, we must have a discussion on the concept of ‘immediately,’ Judith. It seems to be one of the increasingly long list of words we understand differently,” he said in pleasant tones.

Judith scrutinized his countenance for indications of real annoyance. If there was any it was only slight. “But as you see,” she pointed out, “I have an irreproachable escort.”

Marcus nodded. “Do you ever object to being brow-beaten and manipulated by your sister, Sebastian?”

“Not in general,” Sebastian said. “I’m resigned. How about you?”

“Not yet resigned. I must persuade you to teach me how such a peaceful state can be attained.”

“Oh, it’s perfectly simple. The only drawback is that it takes a long time. Like rock erosion.”

“I object to this habit you two have developed of talking about me as if I weren’t here,” Judith announced with offended dignity.

“I’m afraid you invite it, lynx. It’s the only weapon we mere males have against your wiles. Let’s have you down from there.” Marcus reached up to grasp her waist, swinging her to the cobbles. “Do you come in, Sebastian? Or were you kidnapped en route to some other engagement?”

“The latter,” he said. “I was engaged to meet some friends in the park. I daresay they’ve given me up now, so I may as well return home.”

“If you think to make me feel guilty, brother, I can tell you you haven’t succeeded.” Marcus still held her by the waist and she took a step away from him. His hands tightened and she retraced the step, smiling slightly even as she wondered what the grooms and stablehands must be thinking.

“I never attempt lost causes,” Sebastian said with a grin. “And I don’t think you need me around at the moment, so I’ll bid you farewell.”

“We have some unfinished business,” Marcus said, his bantering tone disappeared. Sebastian raised his eyebrows and his brother-in-law went on, “I’ve been trying to catch you these last five days. Will I find you at White’s or Watier’s later tonight?”

“White’s,” Sebastian said without hesitation. Gracemere had said he would be at the faro tables at White’s that evening.

Marcus felt the stirring of the air between brother and sister as if it were palpable. He’d noticed before these strange, suspended instants of tension, when they both
seemed to hear something different from the actual words spoken. “Then I’ll find you there,” he said.

“I’m intrigued,” Judith said. “What unfinished business could you have with Sebastian?”

“None of your business, ma’am.”

“Oh, is it not?” A flare ignited the golden eyes.

Sebastian, chuckling, left them to it and strolled out of the yard. Matters seemed to be going less bumpily between his sister and her husband these days.

“Inside,” Marcus directed. “We’re going to have that discussion on semantics.”

“Oh, good,” Judith said happily. “That’s bound to be interesting.”

“Yes, I believe it will be. Walk a little faster.”

Meekly Judith obeyed the pressure in the small of her back. “How did you find Lady Moreton?”

“Invalidish, in a word. Toad-eating, in another. A dead bore, in three more.
Must we encourage this connection?”

“Yes.”

“I detect a note of finality.”

“Admit that Harriet is charmingly pretty, has the sweetest manners, and will make Sebastian a splendid wife.”

“I accept the first two, although she’s shy as a church mouse, but for the third—it seems to me a veritable mismatch.”

“Sebastian knows what he wants,” Judith said with quiet confidence. “And what he wants, he gets.”

“Not unlike his sister,” Marcus observed, but Judith could hear no sting to the statement.

“I
don’t know why the silly chit should be so standoffish.” Gracemere paced the firelit salon, his mouth twisted with annoyance.

“She’s shy, Bernard.” Agnes poured tea. “And she’s very young.”

“So was Martha, but I didn’t have such difficulty with her. I had her eating out of my hand in two weeks.”

Agnes refrained from pointing out that the earl had been younger then. “Martha was ripe for the picking,” she said. “Carrington’s proprietorial indifference left her with so little self-esteem that she could be easily flattered into love.”

“You do me such honor, ma’am,” Gracemere said with chilly irony.

“Oh, don’t fly into a pucker, Bernard. You know
perfectly well it’s the truth. Harriet hasn’t yet felt her wings. It’s her first Season.” She rose from the sofa, carrying his tea across to him. “However, have you noticed how Judith seems to have taken the child up? And Sebastian seems always to be at her side.”

Gracemere gave a crack of derisive laughter. “That greenhorn! He’s a ninny with more money than sense.”

“So long as he’s worth plucking.” Agnes turned back to the tea tray.

“I only wish it could be more of a challenge,” the earl said, sipping his tea.

Agnes looked up at him. “Count your blessings, my love. Why would you want to work harder than you must?”

He laughed, touching a finger to his lips in salutation. “I take your point. But to return to the Moreton chit. You must contrive to ensure she’s more in my company.”

“I’m not sure how much good it would do. If the child is doe-eyed for Sebastian, and Judith has decided to take up his cause, then we face some difficulties.”

Gracemere’s pale eyes hardened. “If the girl can’t be persuaded, there are other methods.”

Agnes pursed her lips. “Abduction, you mean?”

“If necessary. A night in that Hampstead inn is all that’s required. It doesn’t much matter if the girl spends it willingly or not. She’ll be ruined either way.”

“Society is so unjust,” Agnes murmured with a smile. “A girl’s innocence is wrested from her with an act of ravishment, and she’s considered no longer fit for decent company.” She glided toward Gracemere, a fluid, undulating walk, reminiscent of a serpent’s slither.

“But an honorable marriage will conceal her shame,” he replied, both lust and cruelty in his smile. Agnes went into his arms, her breathing swift, her lips parted, her
eyes glittering with an almost feral excitement. He fastened on her mouth with a savage hunger, reflecting yet again that the planning of evil and the prospect of suffering were for Agnes the most potent aphrodisiacs. It was yet another link in the chain that bound them.

“An honorable marriage that will cost her family every penny of thirty thousand pounds,” Agnes whispered against his mouth. “Poor child, I could almost pity her. Will you be kind to her?”

“I have kindness only for you, my own. The kindness that I know pleasures you.” Gracemere smiled and bit down on her lower lip, his fingers closing fiercely over her right breast, pinching the rising nipple.

Agnes shuddered as the hurt blossomed and she moaned, pressing her loins against his, and the inevitable, blissful excitement surged in her blood.

The earl smiled to himself as he felt her response. Life was full of attractive propositions at the moment, with Carrington’s wife begging like a fawning puppy for his help in taunting her husband and young Davenport offering himself as meekly as any sheep to the shearer.

“Judith, are you feeling quite well?” Sally looked anxiously at her sister-in-law, who seemed listless, lacking her usual burnished luster.

Judith had a headache and a dragging pain in the base of her belly. It had come on since she’d arrived at the Herons’ soiree, and she didn’t need a visit to the retiring room to confirm what she already knew. That wild and glorious night of lovemaking had had no fruitful consequences, and she didn’t know whether she was glad or sorry.

“It’s just the time of the month,” she said. “And this party is so insipid.” The soiree had so far featured a
harpist of mediocre talent, a meager supper, and indifferent champagne. “Let’s go into the card room,” she suggested, putting aside her nearly untouched supper plate.

“There’s a loo table in the small salon,” Isobel said. “We could join that.”

Judith’s expression was not encouraging. “No, come and play basset instead. The stakes aren’t too high, and I’ve explained how to make the best calculation on the card order, so at least you have some tool against pure chance.”

“I don’t feel clear-headed enough tonight,” Sally said. “I don’t think I can play properly if I haven’t prepared myself beforehand.”

“And all the preparation in the world doesn’t necessarily help me,” Cornelia declared. “I’m in favor of loo.”

“But it’s limited loo,” Judith said disgustedly. “There’s no challenge in that.”

“The words of a true gamester, Lady Carrington.” Agnes Barret’s soft tones came from behind Judith, and it was only with the exercise of supreme self-control that she kept dislike and unease from her expression as she turned.

“Good evening, Lady Barret. Have you just arrived? I’m afraid you’ve missed the harpist.” She offered a bland smile.

“I understand she performed magnificently.”

“I fear I’m a poor judge,” Judith said.

“But not of the cards. Anyone who plays at Amelia Dolby’s must have both inclination and skill … or perhaps simply need?” she added, her eyes narrowing as she awaited Judith’s reaction.

Judith bowed. “As you would know, ma’am.”

Lady Barret smiled faintly. “Husbands can be so difficult about money, can’t they?” Her tawny eyes held
Judith’s for a long minute, then with a word of excuse, she moved away.

“Good heavens,” Isobel said, taking a cream puff from a silver salver presented by a waiter. “Are you at war with Agnes Barret, Judith?”