Page 61 of The Book of Lost Stories
‘It was not the act of a gentleman and the offence would be compounded should you mention it to anyone.’
‘No, really I will not. I was not myself and I am very sorry for it.’
‘I accept your apologies, but I believe they would be better directed at your wife, whom you forced into betraying a secret.’
‘There should be no secrets between husband and wife,’ he said defensively, and she said no more, fearful of falling out with him to the extent that she must leave the house.
She wished she could extricate her friend from the unhappiness of her situation, but she had not yet even managed to think of a way of extricating her heroine from hers withhonour, despite Drusilla’s growing suspicion that her husband was responsible for his first wife’s death.
While she could – and probably would – kill off Sir Lemuel Grosby, in real life things were unfortunately not so easily arranged.
23
Old Loves
It was with a fast-beating heart that Drusilla heard Sir Lemuel say, ‘I feel, dear Cousin, that I have come to know the sterling worth of your character even in so short an acquaintance, so that you should not be surprised at the nature of the proposal I am about to lay before you.’
Death or DishonourbyORLANDO BROWNE
On the morning of Bella’s ball, Alys chose to revisit Westminster Abbey, which she had been longing to do.
That the expedition was by no means an unqualified success was entirely due to Lord Rayven’s manner, for from the start he was both distant and curt, so very different to their last expedition together, when they had laughed over Pug’s supercilious airs as he was driven through the park.
Alys thought that must have been an aberration due to somekindly impulse, and her suspicion grew that he had no further interest in her, now he had discovered her secret.
Not, of course, that she cared forthat, she told herself as they arrived back in Portman Square. No, indeed! She had never desired his company in the first place.
‘Lord Rayven,’ she said, as he helped her to alight, ‘I believe I have now visited every object of interest to me in London, and need no longer impose upon you to escort me.’
For a moment his dark, hawk-nosed face stared down at her impassively. Then he replied indifferently, ‘As you wish.’
Alys, not trusting herself to say more, turned away and walked into the house, blinking rapidly.
‘Miss Weston,’ the butler said, closing the door behind her, ‘there is a’ – he paused – ‘gentlemanto see you. A Mr Puncheon. I have put him in the small front sitting room.’
‘Mr Puncheon?’ exclaimed Alys, and thinking immediately that some mishap must have befallen Miss Grimshaw, she went quickly into the room where she found the elderly tea merchant pacing up and down in an agitated manner.
‘Oh, tell me at once, sir, what is the matter? Is it Letty – Miss Grimshaw? Is she taken ill?’
‘Ill? No, pray do not alarm yourself, Miss Weston, for she is very well.’ He fixed his steady, china-blue eyes on her face. ‘That is, she is in some distress of mind over a matter which I wish to lay before you, entirely without her knowledge, I may add.’
Alys sank down on to the nearest chair. ‘If she is in any kind of distress, then you do well to tell me of it, for having been my kind companion from childhood she has both my affection and obligations of duty.’
Mr Puncheon also sat down, twitching aside the skirt of his old-fashioned coat and beaming at her. ‘Ah, but that is precisely it, for she too is fond of you, Miss Weston, so fond that she couldn’t tell you herself for fear of disappointing you.’
‘Disappointing me?’ echoed Alys, puzzled. ‘Pray explain, Mr Puncheon. I have noticed that she has been in low spirits lately when I have visited her, but assumed she was fretting for the time when we should be living together again.’
‘She finds herself torn – quite torn! But while she is prepared to sacrifice her happiness and my own on the altar of duty, I have decided to lay the matter before you.’
Alys, illumination slowly dawning, ventured, ‘Your happiness? You mean …?’
‘Yes, I have asked Miss Grimshaw to be my wife, but she will not consent, for she believes you to be relying on her company and support when you set up your own establishment.’
‘And – pray excuse me! – Letty wishes to marry you?’
‘We loved each other from the moment we met,’ he said simply.
‘Then there is no more to be said, except to offer you both my sincere congratulations and best wishes, and to tell Letty that she is a goose to think I would wish her to accompany me at the expense of her own happiness!’
