Mask of Duplicity (The Jacobite Chronicles Book 1) (29 page)

She had the Cunninghams’ blessing; the Earl of Highbury was indecently rich and very influential, just the sort of person both Edward and Richard wanted to cultivate. With her family’s encouragement everything was made easy. They attended the opera and the theatre together, sitting in the Earl’s permanently reserved box. To Beth’s delight Lord Daniel did not chatter throughout the performances, but listened carefully. During the interval he would talk about the piece, commenting on the actors’ or musicians’ proficiency. He had seen many plays and been to innumerable concerts and once he realised how much she loved the theatre, he took her at every opportunity.

She could have loved him for that alone; but he was also amusing, intelligent, and seemed to share almost every interest with her, with the exception of taking long outdoor walks in cold weather. He preferred to sit in coffee houses during the day or spend time at his club, which was banned to women.

In looks they were opposites; his hair was dark, his eyes a warm light brown. He was taller than her by some six inches, broad of shoulder, but slender of hip, and his legs were long and well shaped. He was perfect, and latterly Beth had found herself leaning towards him when he was talking to her, longing to kiss his smiling mouth but afraid to do so in case he should think her too forward. He was a model of propriety, and whilst she knew he was behaving that way out of respect for her rather than a lack of interest, it had become increasingly frustrating as the weeks passed and her feelings for him strengthened. He was considerate and attentive, showering her with compliments and presents, flowers, books, and lately jewellery; a pair of pearl earrings, a gold bracelet. But he had made no move toward her until last night, in the comparative privacy of an alcove during a ball.

More than half of the becoming flush of her cheeks today was due to the memory of that kiss, gentle and warm, but with the promise of much more to come. At the first touch of his lips desire had raged through her blood and when he had pulled back reluctantly, she had been shaking and breathless, totally defenceless against the unfamiliar sensations which had possessed her.

“If I did not know better,” he had said, smilingly. “I would say that was your first kiss.” His hands were resting lightly on her shoulders; she could feel them burning through the thin silk of her dress.

“It was,” she had admitted, blushing. She had read about kisses, she had seen her mother and father kiss each other, but nothing had prepared her for this. A footman had walked past at that moment, and they both shrank instinctively further behind the large palm plant that sheltered them from public view.

“Ah,” he said, a note of satisfaction in his voice. “Then may I assure you that it is much less painful the second time.” He chuckled to himself, but before she could ask what was amusing, he had taken her in his arms and kissed her again, this time far more thoroughly, his mouth demanding on hers, his arms crushing her to him in an embrace that was almost painful. This time when he broke away from her he was also breathless, whilst every bone in Beth’s body seemed to have turned to water and she leaned helplessly against him for the support that her legs were unable to give her.

He had felt her slight weight and the erection straining against his breeches, and had been tempted to push her up against the wall, lift her skirts and take her now. The risk of discovery would only add to the pleasure. But if they were discovered his prudish father would kill him. This was no servant girl to be tumbled in a cupboard and forgotten about. She was virgin, the girl he hoped to marry. He moved away from her reluctantly and peeped round the side of the plant, surreptitiously adjusting his breeches, which had grown somewhat uncomfortable around the groin.

“I think we had better leave separately,” he suggested, slightly huskily. “I wouldn’t want anyone to think I had compromised your virtue.” He had slipped out of the alcove silently, Beth reappearing a few minutes later when the blush had faded from her cheeks.

Remembering that now, her cold cheeks flamed, and Daniel, noticing, smiled fondly at her.

“It really
was
your first kiss, wasn’t it?” he said softly. She nodded.

“Yes. Do you mind?”

“Mind? God, no. I feel privileged. I just find it hard to believe that no one has tried to kiss you before.”

“Oh, plenty have tried,” Beth replied, pulling her gloves back on. “You are the first that has succeeded, that’s all.”

“Then I feel doubly privileged.” He leaned forward and took her hand in his. “I intend to write to my father today and ask him if I may bring you to meet him.”

Her eyes widened. “Are you sure?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said. “But I don’t want to do anything without your agreement.”

“Do you think your father will approve of me?” she asked.

“How could he not?” Daniel smiled. “He will love you at first sight.”

“And will you tell him what I have told you today?” she asked, looking him straight in the eye. This morning, sensing that their relationship had taken a more serious turn, she had told him about her mother’s origins. Her origins, but not her religion or political sympathies. She had half-expected Daniel to back off, but to her surprise and relief he had not turned a hair, telling her it was her he cared for, not her family background.

“No, not immediately,” Lord Daniel said. “I think it is something that would be better told in person. But once he sees you he will have no doubts that you will make a perfect wife for me, of that I’m certain. You need not be ashamed of your mother, my love.”

Beth pulled her hands from his grasp.

“I am not ashamed of my mother!” she said hotly. “I will not have you deceive your father.”

He softened his tone, aware that he had upset her.

“Nor should you be ashamed. I would love you no matter what your birth. But my father is of a different generation. Once he has met you he will see at once that you are a lady indeed. I have no intention of deceiving him, but let us wait for the right time to tell him.” He took her hand again and squeezed it gently, relieved when she did not withdraw it, although she did not return the pressure.

“Come, my love, let us not argue,” he said. “You know that I love you. But one day I will be the Earl of Highbury. I will have you for my wife, but I must tread carefully with my father. We have only known each other a short time. I know that you are the only woman I want but if I tell my father that, he will think I am being indecently hasty. We must take things slowly, convince him that we have taken the time to get to know each other, before we tell him we wish to marry. I will tell him only that I have met a lovely girl and that I would like him to meet her and give his blessing before we pursue our relationship. That will please him.”

He looked tired, she noticed. Maybe the kiss had disturbed him as much as it had her. She had not slept well last night.

“And what if he says no?” she asked.

“He will not, believe me,” Daniel replied.

Later at home she realised that he had not answered her question. What would he do if his father disapproved? What would she do, for that matter? On a practical level, Lord Daniel was a perfect match. From a noble, influential and wealthy family, he could easily afford to purchase Richard’s commission in the dragoons and provide him with enough money to buy his way further up the ranks as positions became vacant. And his father was one of the most influential peers in the House of Lords. Edward’s standing would be vastly elevated. Yes, if she sought a husband merely to escape from Richard, she could not do better. But she had not anticipated falling in love with her rescuer. It weakened her judgement, she was aware of that. But try as she might, she could see no faults in him. His father
would
like her, she determined; she would make him like her.

She could understand why he was reluctant to tell his father about her mother’s low birth before he had met her. She too had not confided totally in Daniel yet, but only because she did not want to deluge him with information. She would tell him about her Catholic and Jacobite leanings before she agreed to marry him. It would not bother him unduly, she was sure. Once she was married, she could be herself. He loved her for what she was, not for her money, that was certain. To the son of the Earl of Highbury her dowry of twenty thousand pounds would be a drop in the ocean, of no importance at all.

Lord Daniel was also in his room, pacing the floor like a caged lion. He was tired and irritable, angry with both himself and Beth, although he realised that was irrational. It was not her fault that he had been both inflamed and frustrated by the kiss in the alcove. So inflamed that after leaving the party he had made his way straight to the stews of Covent Garden, where he had quenched his lust in a young whore, closing his eyes as he climaxed in a vain attempt to conjure up Beth’s perfect delicate features instead of the coarse painted face and rotten teeth of the girl he panted and sweated over.

Nor was it Beth’s fault that he had met an old acquaintance as he left the whorehouse, a man he had vowed to his father that he would never speak to again, and that the man had invited him to a card game that was about to start at his club. It was not her fault that he had then gone on to lose a great deal of money, his whole year’s allowance, in fact. But he was still annoyed with her for tempting him with her fresh, innocent beauty. If he did not blame her, he would have to take the responsibility for his own actions, which would never do.

He stopped pacing and sat down at his writing desk. If he wrote to his father now he could catch the early post. He dipped his quill in the inkpot and bent wearily to his task.

* * *

Sir Anthony sprawled languidly on the geen velvet chaise longue, long crimson satin-clad legs crossed delicately at the ankle. At his elbow was a small spindly-legged gilt table, on which were a glass of wine and a plate of juicy purple grapes. He popped one into his mouth, and looked at Caroline with amusement.

“Do close your mouth, my dear. It is most unbecoming,” he said. “Have you not seen chiné silk before?”

“Yes,” Caroline replied, running her fingers reverently over the luxurious cream silk, woven with a pattern of red flowers and green foliage. The outlines of the flowers were blurred, giving a watercolour effect. She tore her eyes away from the roll of material reluctantly. “I have never seen such a fine one as this, though, and such a length. There is enough here for a whole dress!”

“Well of course there is. I could not see you walking around in public dressed in only half a gown. What would people say?”

She threw a cushion across the room at him, which he caught deftly and placed in the small of his back.

“Ah, that is better,” he sighed blissfully. “Coach travel is
so
uncomfortable these days, the state of the roads being what they are. I swear that every bone in my body has been put out of joint by the infernal jolting.”

“You know full well what I mean,” she said, expressing no concern for the alarming state of his skeleton. “I have never seen a dress made from one length of this silk before. There is always a seam, somewhere. But there is enough here to make...” she stopped. “What have you been up to?” she said, eyeing her companion suspiciously.

Edwin walked in just in time to hear his wife’s last words and to catch Sir Anthony’s look of injured innocence.

“What
have
you been up to, then?” he echoed.

Sir Anthony clapped his hand to his breast, an expression of the utmost distress on his face.

“Oh, you have wounded me mortally! What a terrible state of affairs when those who profess themselves to be one’s friends are suspicious of the most altruistic acts. I declare, I am quite overcome with grief.” He slumped dramatically backward into the cushions.

Edwin raised one eyebrow.

“Now I
know
you’ve been up to something,” he said, bending over to pick up a grape from the plate next to his guest. “What do you suspect him of, Caroline?”

“It’s more than a suspicion,” she said, folding the length of silk carefully. “The reason I’ve never seen a dress made of chiné silk without a seam is because it’s only imported into England in short lengths. Too short to make a full gown. You have been smuggling, have you not, Anthony? Or at least dealing with those who have.”

“Oh my dear, I will not deny that I have...ah...associates in all echelons of society. Merely by chance I happened to run into an acquaintance who expressed a desire to rid himself of a large quantity of silk at a most economical price. I thought to make you a present of it. But if you do not want it, then...” He reached out a hand towards the shimmering fabric, and she slapped it away.

“I did not say that,” she said, and all three of them laughed. “Would this acquaintance of yours happen to be an English smuggler, or were you still in France at the time?”

Sir Anthony popped a grape into his mouth.

“I do not ask the nationality and profession of every gentleman I meet, Caroline. That would be vulgar. But no, his accent proclaimed him not to be of this fair land. As for the country I was in when the transaction took place...well, one piece of land is much the same as another, don’t you think?”

As half the countries of Europe were now engaged in full-scale war because they considered their piece of land to be very different from the others, or because they felt another piece to be extremely desirable to them, this was not a viewpoint shared by his companions. Indeed, Edwin had just spent a long and weary day in the Commons defending a motion he did not personally agree with, that foreign troops defending the piece of land known as Hanover, so dear to King George, should be paid for by the British parliament. He loosened his stock and sat down.

“I don’t think I want to know any more about how this piece of cloth arrived in our drawing-room, my love, and whether our friend here is a smuggler himself or merely buys from them,” he said to his wife. “Just say thank you, or return it and let’s leave the matter there.”