Page 34 of A Gentleman’s Offer

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Next day, after a flurry of messages, the two conspirators – for so Meg and Dominic felt themselves to be, even if Mr Nightingale was as yet unaware of it – found themselves in Clarges Street, in Lady De Lacy’s purplish sitting room. They arrived half an hour before the third guest was expected, and took tea with their hostess and her cousin; it was a rather stilted occasion, upon which mere commonplaces were exchanged and the hideous word ‘blackmail’ was, unsurprisingly, never mentioned. Meg wasn’t sure, since she had forgotten to ask and could scarcely do so now, whether Dominic’s mother knew that she, Meg, knew of her father’s outrageous threats… Everything was becoming hideously tangled, and she could only hope that today’s actions would go some way to cutting through the Gordian knot to the truth; a reference, she thought, worthy of Lord Nightingale.

An awkward silence fell. In other circumstances, Meg supposed, they’d be talking excitedly about the impending wedding, but since nobody but Miss Sarah could be feeling entirely confident that this event was actually going to go ahead, let alone what form it would take, it wasn’t the most promising topic of conversation, and soon faltered. Meg felt sorry for the poor little companion, who obviously sensed that something was amiss on what ought to be a happy occasion, but had not the least idea what it might be or what could be done about it.

Mr Nightingale’s arrival came as a relief to everybody. Lady De Lacy greeted him graciously, albeit in the manner of one who, though innocent of all wrongdoing, was scheduled to be beheaded in the Tower of London quite shortly, but whose exquisite manners prevented her from mentioning it to anybody. After exchanging a few commonplace words with Francis, she whisked Cousin Sarah away, saying that she was quite sure that the Nightingales had family matters to discuss, upon which she would not think of intruding.

As the door closed behind her, Dominic said, smiling at Meg, ‘Although my mother does enjoy an atmosphere of melodrama, she is of course right. Shall I leave you alone with your brother, my dear? I am sure you have a thousand things to say to each other, and my presence cannot be necessary.’

Meg was grateful for his tact, but all at once felt a little shy, and thought she should welcome Dominic’s support. How long had she known him – could it really be less than a week? It was a little alarming to think that he already seemed indispensable for her comfort. ‘No,’ she said. ‘Unless you greatly dislike it, sir, I would prefer that you stay. I have no secrets from you, do I?’

He took her hand and pressed it, appearing to understand some part at least of the confusion of her thoughts. Francis said gruffly, ‘I want to thank you for asking me to come and see you, Maria. I should have broken the ice myself, but I’m very glad you were braver.’

Meg took a deep breath. It was so hard to know where to begin. ‘I have a great deal to tell you, but I am very glad that you are here. It has been far too long. Shall we sit down and be comfortable while we talk?’

She took a seat, and her companions followed her lead. She said, ‘Francis, I would be excessively glad if we could overcome this horrid estrangement, which I know was no more of your making than it was of mine. I would like nothing more than to be a proper sister to you, and although I have had no opportunity to discuss the subject with her, I know my twin must feel the same.’

She had thought, when she began speaking, that this was a mere preliminary to the real reason she had summoned Francis here, something that must be said as a sort of nod to the conventions, but to her surprise sudden tears thickened her voice as she uttered the words, and she knew them to be true. She’d never realised before how much she had missed knowing her brother, and how deeply the sight of him, smiling at her with an almost painful eagerness, would affect her. She stopped, unable to continue for a moment.

Francis reached out and took her cold hand in his large, warm, pink one. He had tears standing in his eyes too, she saw. ‘No need to distress yourself,’ he said. ‘Perfectly understand what you’re saying, and quite agree with you. Not another word on the topic after today, unless you want to say it. Not your fault, not your sister’s, nor mine. Not Lady Nightingale’s, either, for that matter. She was always very good to me, you know, right from the start. She told me that she knew she could never replace my poor mother and wouldn’t dream of trying, but that she’d like to be a good friend to me, a sort of aunt or something of that nature, if I wouldn’t mind that. Didn’t occur to me at the time that she couldn’t have been twenty herself when she said it. Just a chit of a girl, really, not much older than you are now, trying to make the best of things.’ He cleared his throat of some obstruction.

‘I was just a schoolboy, lonely little fellow, would have been glad… but my father wouldn’t stand for it, of course. Never could quite see why, still don’t know, really, but realised after a little while, especially after you two girls were born, that when she was kind to me, he made her suffer for it in a dozen tiny, petty ways. So… I stayed away. Didn’t like to, but felt I had no option. And I dare say you don’t recall, but I came round to Grosvenor Square a few times after your mother had gone, thought I’d see if he’d let me be a brother to you, at least. Wanted to take you to Astley’s to see the horses, something like that, or to Gunter’s for ices. Sort of thing an older brother ought to do for his little sister. Thought we might both enjoy it. But there was no question of it being allowed.’ Mr Nightingale still seemed to be experiencing a certain difficulty in speaking; his voice was congested and he was flushed with emotion.

Meg said unsteadily, ‘I can see that we have all suffered at my father’s hands, and I am very sorry for it. If we can set right what he has done to us in keeping us all apart – for you must know that he has contrived to separate me from my sister too, as well as from you – then I should be very glad of it. But there are things you do not know, and which I must tell you.’ She paused and said, ‘I think I must be as honest as I can be with you from the start, or what is the point? I’m not Maria, Francis, though I have been pretending to be for a little while – I’m Meg.’

‘Eh?’ said her brother, goggling.

Meg told him briefly of Maria’s flight and her dislike of the marriage her father had arranged for her, and Mr Nightingale shot a rather startled glance at Sir Dominic. That gentleman smiled wryly and contributed, ‘Naturally, if I had realised how much Miss Nightingale disliked the idea, I would never have offered for her. But I had no private speech with her and was lamentably ignorant of her feelings.’

‘Where is she?’ asked Francis, his brows creased with concern. ‘I don’t like the sound of this at all. My father forcing her into marriage in a dashed shabby way… Is she safe?’

Meg hastened to reassure him that she was, and that she, Meg, had seen her just a day or so ago. She went on to tell him that, once she had realised that Sir Dominic was blameless in the matter and that her sister was in no danger, the situation had begun to seem rather odd to her.

‘I should say it is!’ her brother said fervently. ‘Never heard of such a rum go in all my life! Twins masquerading as each other – not like real life at all, but puts me in mind of a play I once got dragged to, some famous fellow wrote it, can’t quite recall his name. I dare say you know the sort of thing I mean. It was funny in parts, but had a lot of devilish tedious songs in it, hey nonny nonny, fol de lol, and so on.’

She was aware of Sir Dominic imperfectly stifling laughter at her side, and said repressively, ‘No, I know, but what I ask myself is, why was Father so desperate for Maria to marry Sir Dominic in particular?’

‘Dashed good catch, I’m sure,’ said Francis politely. ‘Beau De Lacy and all that. Eligible, you know.’ Sir Dominic was sitting, so he couldn’t bow properly, but he inclined his head and upper body in gracious acknowledgement over the teacups. He seemed to be enjoying himself enormously now.

She sighed impatiently. ‘Yes, yes, I’m sure we can all agree that he must be quite the most eligible man in London, but why should my father care for that? I don’t believe he would trouble himself for so much as a minute over Maria’s happiness. You know as well as I do that he doesn’t care a button for any of us, nor for what society thinks of him, since he doesn’t mix in it. It’s not my secret to tell, but please believe me when I say that he has gone to quite extraordinary lengths to make sure that Maria marries Dominic – marries Sir Dominic, I should say – rather than any other man. And I had to ask myself why.’

‘Not at all like the old curmudgeon,’ agreed Francis disrespectfully. ‘So your idea is, there’s something devilish havey-cavey going on, eh?’

‘There must be,’ Dominic said, the humour fading from his grey eyes. ‘The truth is that your father has gained a sort of hold over my mother, and has used it to induce her to press the match on me by threatening to reveal the truth to the world.’

‘Good God, do you say so, old fellow?’ uttered Mr Nightingale, deeply shocked. ‘Blackmail, by Jupiter!’

‘Precisely so.’

‘The more I hear about this,’ Francis said profoundly, ‘the more I realise that something cursed smoky really is afoot. He must have a strong reason for doing something so rum.’

‘We think so too.’ Meg knew the time to utter her suspicions aloud had arrived. ‘I have been puzzling over the matter a great deal, and I believe that our father has stolen Maria’s money – her inheritance from our grandmother. I think he’s taken it all and spent it.’