Page 17

As he had promised, Marcus called upon Lady Amelia the next afternoon to take her driving, and happened to encounter her brother Rafe as he was entering the house.

They greeted each other cordially, of course, and he felt obliged to explain why he was there, feeling devilishly awkward as he did so, like one of his own young cornets or subalterns.

He received a rather penetrating look in response, from dark blue-grey eyes that greatly resembled Amelia’s own.

Though he flattered himself he was learning to know her a little, so that he could read the fine nuances of her myriad changeable expressions, with her brother, he could not claim such insight.

He had no idea what the man might be thinking.

Lord Wyverne was a man of much his own height, but of a rather less massive build.

He was as dark as both his half-siblings, but a very different character from his younger brother: a Corinthian rather than a dandy, in immaculate but casual sporting dress, and practical top-boots rather than gold-tasselled Hessians.

‘Come into my library for a moment,’ he said affably enough.

‘My sister will only keep you kicking your heels in the hall.’

This was an invitation that could not be refused, and Marcus soon found himself seated opposite the Marquess in a comfortable, book-lined room much like his own.

If it had till fairly recently been the previous Lord Wyverne’s private den, it showed no sign of his occupation, apart perhaps from a fine modern painting of Danae in her shower of gold (and not much else) about the mantel.

Marcus dragged his eyes away from the piece, which disconcertingly somewhat resembled the current Marchioness in face and form, and concentrated upon the man opposite him.

Lord Wyverne was toying with some ornament on his desk, and said rather abruptly, ‘I received a note from Lady Keswick this morning – I was about to say, from my aunt, but she is not my aunt though she is Amelia’s; she was my first stepmother’s oldest sister.

We are a somewhat complicated family,’ he added with a reluctant grin of brief duration.

‘At any rate, she wrote to me in aunt-like fashion to tell me that in her opinion, I might expect to receive an offer for Amelia’s hand from you soon enough.

I wish I might show it to you, for she has a high opinion of your character, and expresses it in such stately periods as must be a matter of wonder and admiration.

I dare say I have never received such a letter before. ’

Marcus opened his mouth to speak, but Lord Wyverne interrupted him before he could begin.

‘I didn’t call you in here to interrogate you as to the nature of your intentions.

I am sure Her Ladyship might easily be wrong, though I would not choose to be the man to tell her so.

What I wanted to say to you was that if by chance you should be considering my sister as a prospective bride, I hope you will not allow yourself to be deterred by any gossip you may have heard – damn it, must have heard – about the Wyverne family.

If you are a man of sense, which you appear to be, it will be obvious to you already that Amelia has had no part in anything disreputable, and if indeed there is some Wyverne “taint” that comes from my late father’s mode of life and the last woman he married, it has less than nothing to do with her. ’

‘Of course I know that,’ Marcus said readily. This at least was an answer he could give honestly. ‘Only a fool would not see it directly upon meeting her.’

‘I’m glad to hear it. I can only say that there are a great number of fools in the world, some of them are scoundrels too, and many of them have asked me for her hand in less than flattering terms and been sent away, each of them with a flea in his ear.’

‘I know,’ Marcus could not prevent himself from replying. ‘She has told me so, and I was very sorry for it.’

‘Has she indeed? That’s… interesting. And if you should know all this, believe as you do and yet still be reluctant to ally yourself with such a notorious set of relatives, I hope you will accept my solemn assurance that the stepmother who is still living – as half of London will attest, having seen her half-naked on the stage with their own eyes – was never my mistress.

I know the world believes she was, but she was not.

The rumour originated with her and is entirely false. ’

‘You do not need to tell me such private things, Wyverne. Even if the worst of the rumours were true, it is none of my affair.’

‘Well, I could put two very different interpretations on that statement. But you note I do not ask you, still, if you intend to offer for Amelia. I do hope you appreciate my forbearance.’

Marcus smiled with a little effort. ‘I was about to say that I too have been the subject of most unwelcome gossip – I still am – and so I would not be the first one to rush to judge a man because of what some chattering idiot told me about him. I also know,’ he added with feeling, ‘that life is damned complicated, and one’s actions can often bear a construction that is most discreditable, without there being so much as a grain of truth in it. ’

‘God knows I can understand that,’ Rafe said soberly.

‘But though you do not ask, despite your brotherly right to do so, I will tell you that I do mean to offer for your sister.’ In the moment, he was unexpectedly affected by his own words, sham though it all was, and perhaps this was what brought surprisingly raw emotion to his voice when he said, ‘I think the man who wins her love will be a lucky man indeed.’

‘I think so too.’ There was a brief silence between them, then Lord Wyverne added, ‘I turned away all the others without consulting her, because it was plain that they would have brought her swiftly to ruin and misery. I should not dream of telling my sister whom to marry – only of hoping she will listen when I beg her not to tie herself to a rogue, an imbecile, an inveterate gambler, a fortune-hunter or a libertine. Thornfalcon, if she tells me one day that she wishes to take you, I shall be happy for you both. But it must be her choice. She has not so much as mentioned your name to me, you must understand.’

It was horribly awkward, to have a man be so open and confiding and reveal so much that must cause him embarrassment, when the declaration Marcus had just made was not genuine, so that he was here entirely under false pretences.

He felt low as a snake, and was glad when the door opened to admit Amelia, in smart red bonnet and pelisse, with a poorly concealed expression of trepidation upon her animated little face.

They both rose at her entrance, and her brother said smoothly, ‘I was just asking Lord Thornfalcon a few questions about the possibility of buying a commission for Charlie; you know he has mentioned the idea more than once, and it is not good for him to be idle on the town now that he has left Oxford.’

Her brow cleared instantly and she smiled on them both. ‘I do not know if Charlie would enjoy soldiering as much as he appears to think, but naturally Lord Thornfalcon would be the perfect person to ask. He must have a great deal of experience of what it takes to make a good leader of men.’

‘And I am happy to be of help. I see no reason why Lord Charles should not do well. I have observed that his manners are easy and he does not set up his back when he is teased by others, which counts for more than you would imagine. Fellows with a short temper and a great sense of their own consequence are the last people we need, and often struggle to make a go of it. Of course, being too amiable can also be a problem, but that is usually the case when the boys are very young and unformed in their personalities and too easily influenced to unsteady courses. He is perhaps a little older than the general run of new officers, but that may be for the good. I too did not join as a mere stripling; I was almost eighteen. He is twenty-one or so, is he not? It is no great age, after all. We are not the navy; we do not take up mere children, or if we do, we should not.’

‘I am glad to hear it,’ Lord Wyverne said seriously. ‘You do relieve my mind…’

In this pleasant manner, Marcus and Amelia extricated themselves from the mansion after a little more conversation, and it was only when she was seated beside him high up in his phaeton, which had once been his brother’s, that she said doubtfully, ‘Is that really what you were talking about?’

‘No,’ he replied in low tones. ‘It was a ruse, I think, meant most kindly – to avoid making you feel uncomfortable or pressurised by walking in on a serious discussion regarding the future. But we cannot discuss it now.’ His groom Williams was in attendance behind him, solid and imperturbable and impossible to miss.

Although it was not entirely unheard of for a gentleman to set down his servant so that he could converse privately with a young lady – there being a limited amount of mischief that even the most eager and inventive of couples could be expected to get up to in broad daylight in an open, high-perch vehicle – Marcus thought he should have more of a care for Lady Amelia’s good name than others might, and therefore would not be seen with her in public unaccompanied by any sort of chaperon.

It would not help her fragile reputation at all if he were to be anything less than perfectly correct in his treatment of her.

Perhaps when they were officially betrothed, it might be different.

But no – the relationship was to be of brief duration, he must remember.

He would not wish to leave her worse off than she had been before she met him.

That would be poor recompense for her trust in him.

‘It is very frustrating always to be obliged to converse in front of others. I know my brother has been quizzing you, and it is the outside of enough that there is no way in which you can tell me the details of it.’

‘If we are discreet… He had an extraordinary letter from your aunt this morning.’ They were speaking in little more than whispers, and though Marcus was driving, paying due attention to his horses and keeping his eyes alert and fixed on the road and the carriage traffic around them, he was doing it largely by instinct and could not have said much about their surroundings if he’d been asked.

‘I see. I suppose it is no great surprise. And is he displeased by its contents?’

‘I am sure you could see that he was not. He wished to share certain matters with me, not ask me any questions. To assure me that if I had heard certain unpleasant rumours that might influence my decisions, they are absolutely untrue.’

‘It’s dreadful that he should be obliged to say as much to you, or anyone. He is a very private person, as perhaps you could see.’

‘I told him had no need to tell me anything of the kind. But he wanted to. And I answered the crucial question he was too considerate to ask.’

‘In the affirmative?’

‘Naturally. He said he would not attempt to influence you now, though he did before – but that if you came to him and gave him news, he would be very happy.’

She digested this, and said very low, ‘I do not like deceiving him at all. I should have been braver and told him the truth before now. He is the best of brothers and guardians.’

‘I can see that he is. I felt like the basest creature in existence when I lied to him by omission. Should we tell him how matters really stand?’

‘I can’t decide. My fear is that if we did, he would be hurt and distressed at my behaviour, and perhaps even dislike the scheme so much that he would forbid me from seeing you, or something of that nature, and I don’t want that.’

He didn’t want that either. ‘Then we have no option but to continue as we are. Maybe things will be easier…’

‘When matters are made public. Do you think so? Truly?’