The Courtesan's Daughter (32 page)

Read The Courtesan's Daughter Online

Authors: Claudia Dain

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #General, #Mothers and Daughters, #Love Stories, #Historical, #England, #Historical Fiction, #Great Britain, #Arranged Marriage, #London (England), #Regency Fiction, #Mate Selection, #Aristocracy (Social Class)

BOOK: The Courtesan's Daughter
11.84Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
“No,” Anne said, squirming in her chair, “thank you. I did think I might go up and refresh myself.” Anne was halfway out of her chair by the time she had finished speaking.
“Nonsense,” Sophia said. “You look beautifully refreshed right now, doesn’t she, your grace?”
“Uh, yes,” he said, casting his glance about the room disjointedly as the sounds of banging on the other side of the door rapidly increased in tempo. “Beautifully. Refreshed. Beautifully.”
Anne sank back down upon the chair with a sigh.
“You are aware, of course,” Sophia said, “that you cannot desert Caro now. There must be reliable witnesses, and I’m afraid I don’t qualify. There are certain people of an unhappy and suspicious frame of mind who might believe that I invented this entire morning.”
“I will never breathe a word,” Calbourne said stiffly.
“Oh, come now, your grace,” Sophia said. “That defeats the purpose entirely. I
want
you to breathe more than a word. I want you to repeat every detail. The clock declares it to be just past one. You will both agree that Caro and her darling Ashdon have been making merry in the dining room for just over an hour? Details are so important in these cases. They simply make all the difference between an interesting deception and the startling truth.”
Something fell in the dining room and they all stopped to listen. It sounded rather large. Perhaps the sideboard?
My darling Caro, what have you done to the poor man?
“One twenty-two,” she said, looking at the very pretty clock on the mantel. “I wonder how much longer he can keep it up?” At Anne’s gasp of shock, Sophia said, “Merely a manner of speaking, Anne. You cannot think I meant it literally.”
But, of course, they did. And of course, she had.
If there was any way to begin a marriage, this was definitely it. Poor, dreary Westlin would be spinning in his grave, though, unfortunately, he was not in his grave yet.
Well, the day was young.
 
THE day was still young when Lord Westlin found his way into White’s looking for his son. It was less than pleasant to find that a bet had been placed regarding the exact hour of his death upon learning that Lord Ashdon, his heir, had married Lady Caroline Trevelyan. The odds were that he would die at exactly 6:15 that evening.
The Earl of Westlin, swearing violently, left the club. As soon as he was out of earshot, the betting continued more vigorously than before, with the favored time now shifting to four as it was now three and no one who had seen his face could believe he would last more than an hour in that condition.
It was in that state that he arrived at Lady Dalby’s town house.
Fredericks opened the door and said, “Lord Westlin. How interesting to see you again. Come to celebrate the nuptials?”
“You are not called upon to make remarks to guests, you ignorant American,” Westlin said, clutching his cane like a club.
“I know I’m not called upon,” Fredericks said, “but I make a special effort, for those I have special memories of.”
That they remembered each other from earlier days was memorable to them both, for differing reasons, naturally.
“Announce me,” Westlin commanded.
“Certainly,” Freddy responded. “If you’ll wait here?” He pointed to an exact spot on the floor as if he expected Westlin to sit and stay, rather like a large, unwelcome dog. It need not be stated that the comparisons were obvious.
Westlin was shown into a room done all in white in which Sophia stood to greet him, similarly dressed in white with a large pale green shawl draped across her back. She wore jade earrings that dangled down to caress her throat in the most seductive manner imaginable. The white salon. He’d heard of it, as had everyone else in London, but only he knew the significance of the room. The blanc de Chine cup held pride of place, as well it should.
“Ah, Westlin,” she said, “you finally made it, though I’m sorry to say the wedding was hours ago. It was a delightful affair. I’m so distraught you missed it.”
“Show me the license,” he demanded, his hand out.
“You mistrust me?” she said with a raised brow. “When have I ever lied to you, Westy?”
“You’re lying to me now, pretending that I was invited to this horror when you
know
that, had I come, I would have put a stop to it.”
“I know no such thing. I did send a messenger round with an invitation. I would certainly want my daughter’s marriage to begin on the proper footing, wouldn’t I?”
“I don’t think you care where her feet fall as long as they’re planted on a mattress!”
“Really, Lord Westlin,” she said in mock severity, arranging the fringe on her shawl in obvious boredom, “I must ask you to restrain yourself. Such vulgarity. And we are family now, aren’t we? We must strive for civility, no matter our past differences. One must do one’s best by one’s children.”
“They’re really married, then?”
“They really are,” she answered with a smug smile.
“But not yet consummated.”
“Most assuredly consummated,” she said. “There are witnesses.”
“What the devil do you mean there are witnesses!” Westlin roared. “How can there be witnesses?”
“My dear Westlin,” she said softly, “they were married barely an hour when he”—she shrugged delicately—“I suppose one might say he
had at her
, which you will surely believe as you had that very same tendency. Do you remember our carriage ride through Hyde Park? I lost everything but my earrings.”
“Blast it, Sophia! I will not believe it! He cannot have done—”
“But I assure you, Westy, he has done. The Duke of Calbourne was sitting exactly where you are now when, well, the sounds coming from the dining room could only have one meaning. He is your son, after all.”
“I will not have your child be the Countess Westlin,” he snarled, tightening his grip on his cane.
“I would love to hear what you plan to do to stop it,” she said serenely, leaning back against the sofa, studying him. “Particularly as my daughter could well deliver your son’s heir in precisely nine months.”
“He’ll put her aside,” he growled.
Sophia laughed in delight. “I hardly think so. She has him quite in the palm of her hand. I daresay I have never seen a man so well managed. It’s quite delicious to see. I do hope you’ll stay so that you may see it for yourself.”
“Ashdon is here?”
“Not at the moment, though it took a full hour of false starts before he was finally able to make his departure. He almost couldn’t bear to leave her,” Sophia said. “It was rather precious.”
Revolting was more like it, but that was neither here nor there. He knew Sophia, and he knew that their dance of revenge went beyond this moment of triumph she was clearly enjoying.
“What do you want?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“What do you want? What will it take to make this marriage disappear?”
“You never cease to intrigue me, Lord Westlin, which surely stands in your favor,” she said slowly. “And do sit, Westy. My neck is growing stiff.” He remained standing out of pure stubbornness. “Sit, Lord Westlin,” she commanded sternly. He sat. “There,” she cooed, “that’s so much better, isn’t it? Now we can converse properly and in complete civility.”
“You managed it very well, didn’t you?” he said in a low tone.
“I like to think so,” she said.
“You’ve had your revenge, then, Sophia,” he said. “I concede the point. Now, let’s get this undone. You can’t want your daughter in my family any more than I want her there.”
“But of course I do, darling. I want her there completely. She’s marvelous for Ashdon, that poor child you have mishandled for far too many years, and she’ll be marvelous for you as well. You shan’t be able to manage her, Westlin. She will be quite too much for you. So unlike your dear, sweet, docile wife. You mishandled her as well, which was truly awful of you.”
“This has nothing to do with her,” Westlin said.
“Darling,” Sophia said, “this has everything to do with her. Did you not realize that? You can’t have thought I’d have spent so much time and effort on a discarded lover? Goodness knows, I have more than enough of those and we get on quite well. You, on the other hand, used me to inflict a blow upon your wife. That was very wrong of you and quite unforgivable.”
Unfortunately, he knew exactly what she was talking about. He could admit now, barely, that it had been a poorly conceived idea. Certainly it had not had the result he had intended. Where Sophia was concerned,
nothing
turned out as planned. He was more than tired of that particular trait of hers.
There was a soft knock on the door to the white salon and then Fredericks stuck his head in.
“Lord Staverton is here, Lady Dalby.”
“For Mrs. Warren?”
“No, for you. He’s just come from White’s.”
“Show him in, Freddy.”
“I have no interest in discussing this publicly,” Westlin said, standing.
“Do sit down, Westy. You must learn not to pop about so,” Sophia said. “Lord Staverton will not stay long. You would create more gossip if you ran out now. After all, most of London shall soon know our children were married this morning. We must put a good face on it; call it parental duty if you must. Always lovely to see you, Lord Staverton,” she said, rising to give him her hand. “And how are things at White’s?”
Lord Staverton halted upon seeing Lord Westlin, but shrugged slightly, nodded a greeting, and then proceeded to ignore him. Most people had found it to be the best way of dealing with Lord Westlin and his uncertain temper.
Staverton cast an uncertain glance at Westlin and said, “You’re certain you wish to discuss this now, Sophia?”
“Why, naturally,” Sophia said regally, sitting down upon the silk cushion. “Lord Westlin is family now, after all. We certainly need keep no secrets from
him
, no matter how much he might prefer it.”
“What the devil do you mean by that?” Westlin snarled.
“Now, really, Lord Westlin,” Sophia said glibly, “you must learn to keep your temper on some sort of rein, no matter how loosely held. You are becoming quite the social outcast, which I’m certain must hurt Caroline in some way and so therefore I cannot allow you to continue on as you have done. ’Tis a new day, darling,” she said with a calculating smile, “and you must adjust to it. Or die trying.”
“A poor attempt at a threat, Sophia,” he said.
“Darling, if ever I threaten you, you shall most assuredly be in no doubt of it,” she said softly. She watched Westlin suppress a shiver with complete delight. “It was merely an observation, and a suggestion, that was all. We simply must do something about your rather laggard sense of humor. All the fun seems to have gone right out of you. I do remember you as laughing on occasion,” she said, and then, putting a hand to her chin said, “or was that Lord Atwick? I was forever getting the two of you confused when I first came down to London, wasn’t I? Tell me, Westlin, was it you who laughed when I had myself delivered in place of the brandy or was that Atwick? ”
“It was Asterley,” Staverton said.
“Oh, yes,” she said dreamily. “Asterley had the most engaging laugh, as well as his other engaging qualities.”
“Good lord,” Westlin muttered. “Must you parade your list of customers before us all?”
“Why, of course I must, as it is so very entertaining to provoke you. Why should I stop?”
“For the sake of your daughter’s propriety for one!”
“Oh, but I never talk about these things in front of my children. One must keep up appearances, after all, but
we
know the truth of things, of how things were before this new, conservative age descended upon us like, well, to be blunt, like a blade. I blame the furor in France, I truly do. Things were so much more pleasant before revolution became the order of the day, although the new fashions are quite enjoyable. I never did care for the tightness of those old-fashioned stays.”
“The proof of your upbringing,” Westlin said, snarling yet again. The man had almost no other way of communicating, obviously. How terribly tedious.
“Are we onto that again?” Sophia said. “I happen to have enjoyed my upbringing, Lord Westlin. I rather think you could have done with some of the same. I think it would have done wonders for your temperament, at the very least.”
“I hardly care what your opinion is of the matter. Of any matter, as far as that goes.”
“Yes, well, more proof, I’m afraid, of my point,” she said. “But come, come, we are boring Lord Staverton to tears, though he is too much the gentleman to admit it. What is the word at White’s, darling? I am all aquiver.”
“The Duke of Hyde grumbled a bit, claiming that he suspected you had played a part in the events of last night, but he will honor the wager,” Staverton said. “His man will be around tomorrow with the blunt.”
“It is so pleasant to wager against a man who has the funds to pay his accounts,” Sophia said, eyeing Westlin. “And Viscount Tannington? ”
“He’s coming over himself,” Staverton said. “I do hope you know that he took this bet merely for the opportunity to meet you.”
“Yes, and isn’t that charming of him? I do so enjoy eagerness, especially when it combines with money.”
“What bet are you talking about?” Westlin snapped.
“Why, the bet I had Lord Staverton make that Caroline and Ashdon would marry by six o’clock today,” she said, smiling pleasantly.
“I beg your pardon?” Caroline said from the door to the white salon. Freddy stood behind her with an apologetic look on his face, as if that helped.
“Darling, come in. Have you met Lord Ashdon’s father?”
Caroline, her dark blue eyes stormy, made her curtsey, said the appropriate greetings in the appropriate tone of voice, took a graceful seat on the sofa next to Sophia, and then said stiffly, “You made a wager, Mother? About me?
At White’s?

Other books

El sol de Breda by Arturo Pérez-Reverte
Dirty Little Thing by Sara Brookes
A Secret Fate by Susan Griscom
Lachlei by M. H. Bonham
Profane Men by Rex Miller
First Command by J.S. Hawn
Hush My Mouth by Cathy Pickens
Whistle Blower by Terry Morgan