The Second Lady Southvale Read online

  ‘Yes, Miss Carberry.’ Annie got up and then hesitated, smiling shyly. ‘I don’t know how to thank you, madam.’

  ‘You don’t have to.’

  The maid bobbed a curtsy and then hastened out.

  The next morning was wet, cold, and windy. Leaves were torn from the trees in Green Park, and the smoke from London’s chimneys was snatched raggedly away by the blustering wind. Breakfast in the rotunda was out of the question on such a disagreeable autumn day, and so Rosalind ate inside with Katherine and Lady Eleanor, who both approved of her actions concerning Annie’s mother. No one mentioned Philip’s imminent return, and the omission was very loud indeed. Rosalind already had grave doubts about the outcome of meeting him again, and by the end of the meal she knew that his sister and great-aunt shared those doubts.

  Gerald’s arrival to escort her again came almost as a welcome diversion, for it served to take her mind off her unhappy situation. Annie accompanied them, because it was once again necessary to have a chaperone, especially for a lengthy drive across London. The maid was in a much lighter mood, for the doctor had performed the operation on her mother straightaway, and with complete success. A lengthy recuperation now lay ahead, but the immediate danger was past, and the change in the maid was very noticeable indeed.

  No one could have been more attentive and considerate than Gerald Beaufort. He showed Rosalind all the sights, from Greenwich and the Tower of London, to St Paul’s cathedral and the Palace of Westminster. He took her to Ranelagh Gardens and then showed her the prime minister’s residence in Downing Street, Almack’s assembly rooms in King Street, and the Italian Opera House, where Signora Segati was soon to appear. They had luncheon at Grillion’s Hotel in Albemarle Street and then joined the afternoon display in Hyde Park’s Rotten Row, where he pointed out numerous famous people, from politicians and admirals to artistocrats and actresses.

  Gerald was kindness personified, and so very conscious of her every need that she began to feel a little uncomfortable, for it was plain that from disliking her intensely in the beginning, he now viewed her very warmly indeed. Far too warmly. He held her hand for a little too long when she alighted from the carriage, and he smiled a little too frequently whenever she spoke. There was an admiring and inviting look in his hazel eyes and something that told her she had to tread very carefully, for fear of seeming to encourage him in any way.

  But at last the afternoon began to draw to a close, and it was time to go back to Southvale House. The moment of Philip’s return was very near now, and with each passing moment her feeling of deep apprehension increased. The streetlamps were being lit as the carriage bowled along St James’s Place and into the courtyard of the house, and as it drew to a standstill, Gerald leaned forward to take her hand suddenly.

  ‘Miss Carberry, I would like to be present when Philip arrives,’ he said.

  ‘I – I can hardly prevent you, sir,’ she replied, gently with-drawing her hand.

  ‘If you would prefer me not to, I will do whatever you wish, but I do feel that you may be glad of as many friends as possible.’

  He did know something, there was no mistaking the certainty in his eyes. He knew that Philip was going to reject her. Her pulse quickened, and the awful feeling of vulnerability that had first come over her in Falmouth now returned with swinging force.

  Gerald alighted, turning to assist Annie down first and then Rosalind. His fingers closed a little too warmly over hers, and again she began to pull her hand away, but he tightened his grip a little, drawing her resisting fingers to his lips. ‘I will call again within the hour, Miss Carberry.’

  ‘As you wish, Mr Beaufort,’ she replied, almost snatching her hand free.

  Followed by Annie, she hurried up the steps to the doors, which opened before her as a vigilant Richardson attended smoothly to his duties.

  In the warmth and brightness of the entrance hall, Rosalind turned to the maid. ‘Mr Beaufort knows something, doesn’t he?’

  ‘Well, he does seem to,’ agreed the maid.

  ‘He’s far too certain that things aren’t going to go my way tonight, and he was equally as certain yesterday as well.’

  ‘But what can he possibly know, Miss Carberry?’

  ‘I wish I knew.’

  ‘Things are going to go well for you tonight, madam,’ reassured the maid. ‘I just know they are.’

  ‘Well, we’ll soon see, will we not?’ murmured Rosalind, moving toward the staircase.

  Annie exchanged an unhappy look with the butler and then followed her new mistress up to the pagoda room.

  Now that darkness had fallen, the autumn wind seemed to howl even more around the eaves. It drew down the chimney, making the fire flare in the hearth, and the slight draft swayed the candles glowing in the porcelain pagodas.

  It was nearly eight o’clock, the time appointed for Philip’s return, and Rosalind sat before the dressing table while Annie put the final touches to her hair, which was pinned up in the Grecian style that became her so well. She wore a long-sleeved gray velvet gown, high-waisted with a low, scooped neckline, and with it an amethyst pendant and matching earrings. The amethysts winked and flashed in the light of the candlestick placed on the dressing table next to the mirror.

  Putting the last pin in place, Annie went, as previously agreed, to keep watch from a window overlooking the courtyard, so that she could tell Rosalind the moment Philip’s traveling carriage arrived. Everyone else, including Gerald, was already waiting in the drawing-room, and they had been expecting Rosalind to join them for some time now, but she couldn’t bring herself to sit in awful anticipation with them. No, she intended to let Philip arrive and speak to them first, before she summoned the courage to face him, or them.

  Only a few minutes had passed before Annie came hurrying back. ‘He’s here, madam!’

  Rosalind’s heart almost stopped and then began to race unbearably. Annie brought the same knotted shawl she’d carried at the Washington ball, and she rose to her feet, feeling almost sick with anxiety. Please let the outcome of this be good….

  She went slowly to the head of the staircase and paused there, leaning over the marble balustrade to look down past the gilded Chinese lanterns toward the entrance hall, two floors below. Richardson was already waiting and must have heard Philip’s steps, for he went quickly to the doors, flinging them open. ‘Welcome home again, my lord.’

  Rosalind waited breathlessly for her first glimpse of the man she loved and had come so very far to see, but as he stepped inside, all she saw was his heavy gray Polish greatcoat and his top hat.

  Richardson waited attentively. ‘I trust you had a good journey, my lord?’

  ‘The five miles from Greys isn’t exactly arduous, Richardson,’ replied Philip, turning for the butler to help him with his coat.

  ‘Greys, my lord? But—’

  ‘I needed to think, and it’s as good a place as any.’ Philip teased off his black leather gloves and gave them to the butler.

  ‘Is all well here?’

  ‘Yes, my lord, except—’

  ‘If there are any problems, I’ll make myself available a little later.’

  ‘Yes, my lord, but I think you should know—’

  ‘I said later,’ interrupted Philip firmly, removing his top hat and pushing it into the other’s hands.

  Richardson fell silent.

  Philip glanced around the entrance hall, and Rosalind could see him properly at last. He wore a dark-purple coat and tight-fitting cream breeches, and there was a large diamond pin in his complicated neckcloth. He was a little thinner than she remembered, and his face looked pale and drawn, but his eyes were still an incredible blue. He ran his fingers briefly through his tangle of coal-black hair, glancing at the butler.

  ‘Are my sister and great-aunt in?’

  ‘Yes, my lord, they are waiting in the drawing-room. Mr Beaufort is also here.’

  ‘Dammit, what the devil’s he here for?’

  ‘I believe he wish
es to see you, my lord. We’ve all been most concerned about you.’

  ‘I’m a big boy now, Richardson, and well able to take care of myself,’ Philip replied drily.

  ‘Yes, my lord.’

  ‘I’ll go to them, then.’

  ‘My lord.’ The butler bowed and withdrew.

  Philip paused for a moment, toying with his cuff, then he turned abruptly to come lightly up the first flight of the staircase.

  Rosalind drew hastily back from the balustrade. She heard him pause again on the floor below, then he pushed open the doors of the drawing-room and went in.

  She took a deep breath in an endeavor to compose herself, then she went very slowly down to the next floor.

  17

  Rosalind could hear the voices in the drawing-room before she could see through the doorway.

  Lady Eleanor was the first to speak. ‘Ah, there you are at long last, Philip.’

  ‘Good evening, Great-aunt Eleanor. Katherine. Gerald.’

  Gerald murmured the usual reply, but Katherine gave a glad cry, and Rosalind heard the rustle of her turquoise taffeta skirts as she ran to greet her brother. ‘Philip! Wherever have you been?’

  ‘Greys.’

  Katherine gave a disbelieving gasp. ‘But I sent a message there, and Mrs Simmons—’

  ‘I instructed her to say I wasn’t there.’

  ‘But why? Philip, what has been going on?’

  Lady Eleanor made a concurring sound. ‘Yes, Philip, what has been going on?’

  ‘I had something of immense importance on my mind.’

  ‘So important that you couldn’t be bothered with the courtesy and consideration we usually merit?’ inquired the old lady a little tartly, for she was very displeased with her great-nephew for behaving in such a cavalier fashion.

  Philip knew he deserved to be on the receiving end of this displeasure. ‘You must forgive me, Great-aunt, but I really did need to be on my own for a while.’

  Rosalind had reached the floor below now, and she moved hesitantly toward the drawing-room doors. She could see the little group quite clearly, and Celia’s portrait, watching over them as if paying attention to every word they uttered. Rosalind paused just beyond the pool of light by the doorway, where the softer glow of the Chinese lanterns by the staircase lost the battle to the brightness of the chandeliers in the drawing-room.

  Lady Eleanor was surveying her great-nephew rather severely. ‘Yes, Philip, I’m quite sure you do have something to think deeply about, for matters of marriage aren’t to be lightly brushed aside.’

  Philip was very still for a moment. ‘Matters of marriage?’ he replied slowly.

  ‘Yes. Come, now, sir, let’s not beat about the bush, for all of us here present know what’s behind all this.’

  ‘You do?’ His glance moved briefly to Celia’s portrait and then away again.

  ‘Yes, and we rather feel we’re due an explanation. It really isn’t good enough for you to leave us in the dark like this. It’s all come as a dreadful shock, you know.’

  He gave a dry laugh. ‘Oh, I know that, Great-aunt, I know it only too well.’

  ‘Don’t you think you should have given us some intimation of what had happened? As it was, we simply had the lady in question turn up at the door.’

  He stiffened, his piercing blue eyes resting urgently on the old lady. ‘She’s here already?’

  ‘Yes, of course she is. How else do you imagine we’ve found out about it?’

  ‘I just presumed …’ Philip looked at Gerald for a moment.‘I presumed wrongly, it seems,’ he finished, his voice little above a murmur.

  Gerald met his gaze and then looked at the fire.

  Katherine, who still stood next to her brother, having hurried to hug him on his arrival, now looked at him, a little perplexed. ‘Philip, you don’t seem exactly pleased to know she’s here in London.’

  He smiled a little wryly. ‘Are you pleased, Katherine?’ he asked softly.

  ‘Of course I am, for she’s everything that is pleasing and kind.’ Katherine couldn’t hide her indignation. ‘Why do you think I’d be displeased?’

  ‘I may have been blind in the past, Katherine, but I’ve worked a few things out for myself since then.’

  She stared at him. ‘What on earth are you talking about?’

  ‘I’m talking about you and …’ He suddenly broke off, whirling about as if some sixth sense told him Rosalind was there. He stared at her as if he’d seen a ghost, and his face, already pale, became more pale still. ‘What in God’s name are you doing here?’ he breathed.

  Rosalind’s heart faltered and she couldn’t reply. There was no welcome in his eyes and no kindness in his voice.

  He came slowly toward her, halting a few feet away. ‘You shouldn’t have come, Rosalind, for there’s nothing here for you, and the sooner you go back where you belong, the better.’

  Had he physically struck her, she wouldn’t have known more pain than she did in those few shattering seconds. She’d prayed for a happy reunion, and she’d feared a rejection, but she’d never dreamed that that rejection could be as cruel as this. ‘Philip, I …’

  ‘We need to talk in private, madam,’ he interrupted, glancing back at the astonished trio behind him. ‘I’ll await you in the library.’ He strode past her, walking along the landing to another doorway on the other side of the staircase. The room beyond seemed to be in darkness, but he went inside and closed the door behind him.

  Lady Eleanor and Katherine seemed to be rooted to the spot with shock and dismay, for nothing could have been more embarrassing than what had just happened.

  It was Gerald who seemed to recover first. He came quickly over to Rosalind, closing the drawing-room doors so that he and she were alone outside. He took her hands. ‘Don’t forget that I’m here if you need me,’ he said quickly.

  She hardly heard him, for she was still too overcome with misery at the way Philip had behaved.

  ‘Look at me, Miss Carberry.’

  His urgency penetrated and she did as he bade, but her green eyes were accusing. ‘You know why he’s changed toward me, don’t you?’

  ‘I’ll be here if you need me,’ he said again.

  ‘It’s Philip I need, sir,’ she replied, noting that he’d evaded her question.

  ‘But Philip now appears to be beyond your reach, Miss Carberry, whereas I am most definitely here.’

  It was a blatant declaration, and her breath caught in astonishment. ‘What are you saying?’ she whispered.

  ‘I think my meaning is clear enough,’ he said, holding her gaze. ‘Philip may no longer want you, Miss Carberry, but I most definitely do.’

  With a gasp, she pulled away from him, gathering her skirts to hurry toward the library door.

  As she went inside, she saw Philip holding a candle to the fire. Shielding the new flame with his hand, he went to a table, lighting a candelabrum that stood there. The new light wavered softly over bookshevles and damson velvet curtains, and she was aware of the comfortable smell of leather from the armchair and the bindings of the books.

  He faced her. ‘Why did you come here, Rosalind?’

  ‘I mistakenly believed you loved me, sir,’ she replied, her voice shaking a little.

  A nerve flickered at his temple and he looked away for a moment. ‘You left Washington before you were due to, I take it?’

  ‘That much is obvious, sir.’

  ‘If you’d done as we’d agreed, you’d have received a letter from me. I wrote it in time to catch the Queen of Falmouth packet.’

  ‘The Queen of Falmouth is believed to have been lost at sea, and anyway I’d probably left before she was due to arrive. What did you say in the letter, Philip?’

  He drew a long breath, returning to the fireplace and leaning a hand on the mantelpiece, his back toward her. ‘It wasn’t a very explanatory letter; in fact, it was little more than a note. I wrote in complete detail a few days ago.’

  It was like talking to a stra
nger. This wasn’t the Philip de Grey who’d laid such sweet siege to her in Washington; it was someone she didn’t know at all.

  He glanced at her again. ‘Why did you leave early?’

  ‘Several reasons. My mother became unwell and my father decided that the wedding would have to be put off well beyond Christmas, and then the political situation worsened so much that it really did seem as if war would break out at any moment. I decided I couldn’t risk the possibility of being parted from you for what might prove to be a very long time, so I left secretly and alone to join you here.’

  He turned quickly. ‘You’re here alone?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Oh, Rosalind …’

  ‘I realize now that I’m a complete gull, but I had no idea that you’d changed so much toward me. After all, when last we spoke, you did beg me to join you, and I was rather under the impression that you wished me to be your wife. Evidently I was wrong.’

  He met her gaze for a moment and then turned back to the fire. ‘This is the very last thing I wished to have happen, Rosalind. Please believe me.’

  ‘I no longer know what to believe, sir,’ she replied. ‘You did ask me to marry you, didn’t you? I begin to wonder if I dreamed it all.’

  ‘You have my ring to prove it wasn’t a dream,’ he said, glancing at her left hand.

  ‘Well, that can obviously soon be rectified.’ She removed the ring and placed it on the table by the candelabrum.

  He gazed at the gleaming gold and said nothing.

  ‘Philip, aren’t you at least going to give me an explanation?’ she asked.

  He nodded. ‘Yes, I’ll tell you what’s happened, but before I do, I want you to know that I meant everything I said to you in Washington.’

  ‘Yes, I think you probably did, Philip, but that was before you came back here to her, isn’t it?’ She spoke quietly, but every word was clear. This was all because of Celia, so why not be open about it?

  He looked at her. ‘Do you mean Celia?’

  ‘Has there ever really been anyone else?’