Page 15 of What the Lady Wants
‘I was wondering…’ said Lady Irlam – she had been invited to call her Cassandra; said Cassandra. ‘We plan to leave London soon and return to our home in Hampshire, so I thought we might make up a house party there. Nothing grand, just a few friends who will spend some weeks with us there in a very relaxed, informal sort of a way. Town is emptying out, it seems to me, and I believe Lady Blanche plans to return to Ireland while the weather remains relatively clement. You will be at a loose end, then, so would you care to accompany us and make one of our party?’
It was perfectly true; Lady Blanche had discussed her intention of leaving England in a few weeks’ time, and Isabella had been closing her mind to all that this implied. She had even formed some vague idea of taking lodgings in London, although it would be hard to do so without some respectable lady to accompany her, which naturally was the last thing she wanted, and even with such an inconvenient companion, her parents would hold the idea in great disfavour when they heard of it. It seemed likely that her father would be despatched to fetch her home, and though he couldn’t and wouldn’t drag her back to Yorkshire against her will, the pressure he and most of all her mother could bring to bear would be considerable. Women ofher age, even widows, simply did not set up house in London with no close male relative to lend them countenance. Whatever would their friends and neighbours say when they heard of such peculiar and not quite respectable behaviour? But here was another alternative…
Cassandra saw her momentary hesitation and said, ‘Of course, you might very easily dislike the notion of committing yourself to a party where you are not well acquainted with any of the other guests, and I quite see that it is unfair that I should ask it of you, so I shall describe them to you, to allow you to make a more informed choice. I had hoped that my great friend Lady Silverwood might come, with her husband Sir Benedict and daughter Lucy and little son Teddy – he is the sweetest baby – but she is increasing again and prefers to stay at home. My husband’s aunt, Lady Louisa Pendlebury, will be with us, and her friend Lady Carston. I don’t know if you have met either of them in more than a casual way?’
‘I haven’t,’ said Isabella, ‘but I was talking with Georgiana, with the Duchess, a few days ago before she left London – of course, how foolish of me to forget that you must already know her far better than I do yet – and she said that she had hoped to introduce me to Lady Carston, as she was sure we would deal extremely well together. But in the end, she had no chance to do so, as Gabriel was so eager to leave.’
‘Did she say that? That’s interesting,’ said Cassandra rather enigmatically. ‘Well, I’m sure she was right, and you may take her word for it that you and Jane Carston will be firm friends. And Lady Louisa is excellent company, you know – not like an aunt at all, if you have aunts and are picturing someone terribly stuffy and dull and disapproving. She was very kind to me when I first met her, even though I was a mere nobody; she’s not at all high in the instep. Let’s see, who else…? My husband’s friend Mr Wainfleet, who is not in the petticoat line, as he’d say himself.Oh, I should not use horrid slang, forgive me! I spend altogether too much time with my husband and his brothers! If you do not know, to be or not to be in such a line signifies a gentleman who does or does not frequent the company of women, with all that that implies. Poor Mr Wainfleet very much does not, and I think is a little scared of young, attractive ladies, if truth be told, so he won’t trouble you at all.’
Isabella was quite touched that Cassandra thought of her as a young, attractive lady, though of course it was not true and could not signify in the least, and was smiling a little at this as her guest went on, ‘There may be a few other people present, I’m not sure yet, but nobody intimidating, I assure you, and besides that, we will be a family party, more or less. My brother-in-law Bastian will be there, and my childhood friend Matthew Welby – you’ll have a great deal to say to him, he’s from Yorkshire too, he’s like a brother to me and has become very close to Bastian; they share a set of rooms in London now. And my husband’s Aunt Sophia, Mrs Winterton, of course, and her son Leo, Captain Winterton. I know you are acquainted with him, so that will be a friendly face – did he not accompany us on a turn around the park a few weeks ago? And I am sure I have seen you dancing with him once or twice.’
Isabella gulped and gazed at Lady Irlam in wild surmise, but her face was completely open and innocent, and it was ridiculous to think she meant anything particular by her last remark. ‘Yes,’ said Isabella slowly. ‘Yes, of course I am acquainted with the Captain, though I have never met his mother.’ Good God, his mother!
‘He is a most agreeable man, is he not? I do not know him very well – he was at sea, I believe, when Hal and I married, and then we went abroad for several months, so I have only properly met him this year while he has been staying with us. But I like him very much.’
‘Just so,’ Isabella replied in hollow tones. There were many other things she could have said, things that she’d wager would have made her companion’s fiery locks stand on end, but perhaps fortunately she refrained from giving utterance to any of them.
‘Well,’ said Cassandra with a mischievous smile that Isabella could not help distrusting, ‘I suppose I should not ask a young lady’s opinion of an eligible gentleman; indiscreet of me to enquire, and it would be indiscreet of you to answer, so you are very wise not to do so.’
‘I do not consider myself a young lady – or not in the sense I believe you mean,’ Isabella responded with a tolerable assumption of calm. ‘I am not on the hunt for eligible gentlemen, not in the slightest, I do assure you, even though you must be right to say that the Captain is indeed extremely so.’
‘Oh goodness,’ said Lady Irlam, flushing, ‘I am so sorry – of course you are not. Forgive me for my clumsiness, I beg you. I have indeed spent too much time with my husband’s family, and they do tease each other so terribly that I dare say I have fallen into the habit of it myself. How provoking! Now I have offended you, and given you a disgust of the Pendleburys and their rag manners besides, and the result of it all is that you will not come, and it will all be my fault when I am sitting alone in the Castle with no other young lady to bear me company.’
She did appear to be genuinely distressed, and Isabella was obliged to rush to reassure her that she was not in the least upset, and the upshot of it all was that she found herself agreeing to accept the invitation, and with a speed that took her breath away all was arranged; she would travel down to Hampshire with Lady Irlam in her carriage the very next week.
When her guest had taken her leave, Isabella reflected that, although the entirely unexpected invitation had been initially alarming – and the thought of keeping company with CaptainWinterton’s mother remained so, for how would she contrive to look her in the face? – it would at least enable her, enable them, to continue to make the necessary progress on her list. This would have been difficult enough upon Blanche’s departure, and impossible if the Captain was engaged to go down to Hampshire with his family, which appeared to be the case, though he had never told her of it. Perhaps he had not known how to broach the subject. She would ask him, next time she saw him, and they could make a plan for how to proceed once they were at the Castle. It suddenly occurred to her that, if they were discreet – and they would have to be – they would for the first time have all night, or most of it, and the comfort of a bed at their disposal. That was food for thought.
Isabella remained touchingly confident that Lady Irlam – indeed, that everybody not directly concerned, apart from Georgiana, in whom she had confided and who was now safely in Yorkshire – remained in ignorance of her plan and its execution. She would not have been so sanguine if she had been privileged to read the letter that Cassandra dashed off to the Duchess of Northriding as soon as she arrived home, and she would have been quite appalled if it had been possible to overhear the conversation the Countess had with her lord when next they encountered each other.
Cassandra had almost finished dressing when Hal lounged into her chamber; she dismissed her maid Kitty with a smile. Or attempted to. Kitty could not be described as the regular sort of lady’s maid, but was a tall, imposing, buxom and outspoken countrywoman who had known Lord Irlam from the cradle, and although she took her leave, she did so shaking her head andmuttering that she could tell they were hatching some mischief between them, and not to come running to her when it blew up in their faces. ‘We won’t,’ said Hal, bussing his old nurse soundly upon both cheeks and practically pushing her out of the room.
He turned to survey his wife, who was looking particularly becoming in an evening gown of deepest indigo velvet, which flattered her pale skin and flaming curls. He was obliged to tell her so, and kiss her shoulders and her graceful neck, and it was a little while before he gathered his wits enough to ask her what he had come on purpose to enquire: ‘Is she coming?’
‘Yes, she has agreed to stay with us, and did not think it the least odd that I should ask her, as far as I can tell.’
‘Good. And can you divine what she thinks of him – are her affections in the least engaged? The poor fellow is at the end of his tether, you know, and we must do anything we can to help him.’
‘I don’t know,’ said Cassandra, lovingly smoothing back the rakish black lock that fell across her husband’s forehead and would not be tamed. ‘She was initially very nervous when I arrived, and I’m not quite sure why.’
‘Perhaps she has some inkling that he cherishes warm feelings towards her, and is wary of him and of his family as a result?’
‘I couldn’t tell. Possibly. At any rate, I was very clever and put her in a position where she had no choice but to accept my invitation; I can’t say if she thought I was matchmaking or not, but in any case, I’m tolerably sure she has not the least suspicion of me or my intentions. I hope she does care for him – I do like her, Hal, and I’m sure you will too. There’s something straightforward about her that is very engaging.’
‘Leo’s head over heels in love with her and that’s good enough for me. I only hope the whole affair isn’t as desperateas the poor fellow seems convinced it is. But I dare say we shall know soon enough!’
16
NUMBER SEVEN AND NUMBER SIX
Lady Ashby was able to contrive another meeting with Captain Winterton a night or two later; she was becoming quite disturbingly skilled in deception, she reflected, as she put her gloved hand on his arm and accompanied him into the house of assignation, loo mask firmly in place. They needed to talk with some urgency; perhaps all they would do this evening was talk.
Or perhaps not.
Alone with him in the small candle-lit room with its red and gold furnishings, she stripped off her evening cloak, mask and gloves, and turned to look at him. ‘I presume you have heard that your cousin’s wife has invited me to stay with them in Hampshire, and I have accepted?’ she said, frowning unconsciously.
The Captain had removed his outer clothing too, and undid his mask now with elaborate care; she thought he was purposely not meeting her eyes. She could not wonder at it. It must be difficult for him, this conversation. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Cassandra, Lady Irlam, did mention it. Of course, I did not reveal that it was of any particular interest to me.’
Isabella was conscious of an inevitable awkwardness – they were discussing the woman he loved, as they had at the outset agreed never to do – but it must be overcome. God knows she had no desire to hurt his most tender feelings, but she must know if she would be walking into some hideous situation that would end badly for all of them. ‘Why has she asked me?’ she demanded. ‘I hardly know her. Is she trying to make up a match between us, do you think? In which case it must be horribly painful for you, and perhaps I should invent some excuse to withdraw my acceptance.’
