Читать книгу Regency Collection 2013 Part 1 - Хелен Диксон, Louise Allen, Хелен Диксон - Страница 50

Lily did not expect to see Jack at dinner, but he strolled into the salon where the ladies were congregating before the meal, looking immaculate. Her surprise must have shown on her face, for he came over to her side, one brow raised quizzically.

‘Did you expect to see me with black fingernails and coal dust in my hair? I scrub up reasonably well, I believe.’

Lily had had an afternoon, in the intervals between adjudicating in spirited arguments over fashions, to decide on her future tactics with Jack. She could not make her excuses to Lady Allerton, pack her bags and sweep out, nor could she be thrown into blushing confusion every time she saw him. She was too honest to believe that this was all his fault, so there appeared to be only one tactic: ignore it and play games.

She smiled, lowered her eyelashes and murmured, ‘You most certainly do.’ She was rewarded by both his brows flying up and a glint of grudging amusement in his eyes.

‘Society tricks, Miss France?’

‘My aunt always emphasises how important it is to minister to a gentleman’s vanity,’ she replied sweetly.

‘And why is that? You appear to have only just recalled this piece of advice, unless I have been very unobservant.’

‘Firstly, because if one does not, then they sulk; secondly, because it is the best way to get what one wants.’

‘And have you ever observed me to sulk, Lily?’

‘Well …’ Lily flirted her fan and was rewarded by a reluctant grin.

‘To take your second point, what is it that you want from me?’ Jack had lowered his voice and Lily kept her face straight. Now he thinks I am going to blush and stammer and reveal that I really want him to … that I want him.

‘Why, to let me stay here a little longer and to study this wonderful old building, of course. I do believe that I could bring the Baronial style back into fashion in London if I put my mind to it.’

‘What? Crumbling, gloomy and atmospheric?’

‘No, romantic, solid—and brightly coloured. I like bright colours.’

‘I had noticed that—but there are none here.’ She had his interest, Lily realised. He was no longer playing games.

‘But there were. Look at this tapestry.’ She moved to one side and indicated a hanging. It was muted, mostly greens and browns, dull yellows and deep reds. ‘See—have you never looked at the back?’ She flipped up the corner, revealing the almost unfaded original colours, glowing like jewels. ‘Imagine the walls, hung with these when they were new. The armour gleaming silver, the torches in their sconces, the firelight, the banners fluttering.’

‘Lily, you are a romantic—I had not realised it.’

‘Yes,’ she conceded, knowing he was teasing, but choosing to take it seriously. ‘I am. But I am also a realist. Sometimes those two things clash and when they do, chasing the romantic dream is usually a foolish thing to do. Sometimes it takes me a little while to realise what is possible and what is not, but I get there in the end.’ She made herself hold his gaze steadily, praying that the message she was trying to send showed, and not the love and the yearning under it.

‘Touché, Lily,’ Jack murmured as Lady Allerton came up to them.

‘We were just talking about romance,’ Lily explained brightly. ‘Knights, and battlements and banner waving.’

‘That, or we were duelling,’ Jack added, earning him a puzzled look from his mother and a sharp glance from Lily. It would never do to underestimate Jack Lovell. ‘What have you all been doing this afternoon?’ he asked as his sisters joined them.

‘Gloating over the lovely dress lengths you brought us, and turning out all the pieces and trimmings we have squirrelled away. Lily looked at the latest fashion plates with us—she had some more in her own luggage as well—and has been making suggestions.’ Susan was still overflowing with excitement about the experience.

Lily met Jack’s eye and said earnestly, ‘I have recommended purchasing considerably more trimmings, a number of sprays of artificial flowers and practising appliqué work, ruching and French pleating for hems. I think padded and quilted hems might be a little difficult to attempt at home, but might be tried.’ This provocation appeared to be working, so she added, ‘I think the muslins you brought are a little plain, if you do not mind me saying so, all those creams and pastels—I recommend having them dyed. Strong yellows, hotter pinks and bright blues would all be excellent. And, of course, the use of gold and silver lamé.’

‘Over my dead body are you parading yourselves—’

Penelope burst into giggles, and the other two girls laughed. ‘Jack, Lily is teasing you! She has been making the most lovely sketches for us, showing what the gowns in the fashion plates look like with most of the ornamentation removed,’ Caroline explained. ‘Lily says that no lady would appear hung around and bedizened in that way, they just show them like that for impact.’

Lily, conscious that her evening dress had been pared down to elegant simplicity by Janet’s skilful hands, met Jack’s eyes with an expression of limpid innocence.

She should have known better. ‘I really cannot pretend to understand the rules of female fashion,’ Jack confessed, taking his mother’s arm as Grimwade announced dinner. He waited until the ladies had settled around the table before taking his place at the head and shaking out his napkin. ‘Does this rule about simplicity not apply to riding habits? Because I am sure I recall a most striking garment of yours, Miss France.’

‘Indeed.’ Lily could feel herself colouring up. ‘That was an extreme of fashion, I will admit, and probably an error of judgement in retrospect.’

‘I thought it most attractive,’ Jack observed blandly, gesturing for Grimwade to start serving. ‘But then, what do I know?’

‘Do describe it, my dear Miss France,’ Lady Allerton interjected.

‘It is a deep sea-green superfine, with a very long skirt,’ Lily said, not meeting Jack’s eyes.

‘Go on,’ urged Susan.

‘Completely plain in the skirt. The bodice fastens with several rows of frogging after the military fashion and there is a little bolero jacket. And the sleeves have epaulettes and more frogging.’

‘Do not, whatever you do, omit the hat,’ Jack urged.

‘It is modelled on a shako,’ Lily said repressively. ‘With ostrich plumes and a cockade of French lace.’

‘It sounds very dramatic,’ Caroline observed. ‘And I imagine the colour would look wonderful on you. I think I would find all that frogging and the jacket a little heavy in appearance, but perhaps I am not envisioning it correctly. And how do you manage your hair under a shako? I have admired them before, but I cannot see what one can do unless one has a crop.’

‘I just bundled it up inside,’ Lily admitted, whisked back to the woman-only gossip of the afternoon and forgetting that Jack and the servants were in the room. ‘And the bodice is very form-fitting.’

‘Ooh!’ Penelope sighed. ‘How dashing.’

‘It was. Very.’ On the surface Jack’s voice held nothing but simple agreement, but Lily’s gaze flew to his face and saw the heat in his eyes and the suggestion in his slightly parted lips. He had never commented on that habit—had he? She racked her brains as she accepted the dish of peas from Susan beside her. There had been some recognition in his expression that she was riding out to make a splash that day, but when she had come back to his room and pulled off her hat …

She could almost feel the weight of her hair tumbling free, very improperly. And she could recall that Jack had seemed rather strange, distant perhaps, that afternoon. Oh, goodness, he thought that outfit provocative and now it is making him think about … about the sort ofthing we were doing this afternoon.

‘But not, I think, the sort of habit that would be suitable away from London.’ Lady Allerton’s pronouncement flattened Penny, who was quite obviously calculating how she would look in it herself. ‘But we will need a trip into Newcastle to take the dress lengths and the sketches to the modiste. Presumably we will be able to have the use of the carriage horses tomorrow, Lovell?’

‘Certainly you may, Mama.’

‘Thank you, dear. I was surprised you wanted them for ploughing, but then, I have never understood agriculture. What exactly are you ploughing?’

Caroline broke into a fit of coughing, the footman hastened to fill her water glass and Jack made a considerable business of ensuring his sister was quite all right. It occurred to Lily that he had not answered his mother’s question, but if she did not pursue it, a guest hardly could.

‘I hope I will have news tomorrow about my own carriage. I really should call on my agent and there is also a warehouse I want to look at.’

‘I am sure we can fit all that in,’ Lady Allerton said, nodding to the footman to clear the first remove.

‘But we wanted Lily to help us choose things,’ Penny protested.

‘Miss France has more important things to do,’ her mother reproved her.

‘My business should not take too much time.’ Lily smiled reassurance at the flushed girl. ‘I will simply call upon Mr Lovington’s office and collect some paperwork and have him arrange a visit to the warehouse later in the week when I return.’

‘Do you mean to pore over dusty old ledgers?’ Penny asked. ‘Jack is bad enough—I did not think ladies had to do such things.’

‘I enjoy it,’ Lily said lightly. ‘I find it satisfying to make things work better than they did before.’

‘Miss France is a notable businesswoman, and an example to you to pay attention to your lessons.’ Jack sounded infuriatingly pious and earned himself a scowl from his youngest sister and a laugh from everyone else. Lily found herself relaxing into the warmth of this close, loving family.

It was only later, as she climbed into the high, curtained bed, and snuggled down to sleep, that she was conscious of the small ache of envy. What joy to have sisters to share with, how wonderful to grow up with a mother to guide you, what a pleasure to have an elder brother to tease and look after you. All the money in the world could not buy her those treasures.

Lily woke the next morning with the disconcerting feeling that she had been dreaming, but with no recollection of the night at all. She had left strict instructions for Janet to wake her in plenty of time to be down for breakfast.

She had been only half-joking when she had told Jack she was worried about getting lost. She was also distinctly nervous that she did not know how one went on in a castle. Luncheon and dinner had appeared reassuringly normal, but for all she knew, breakfast was different up here in the north. She was sure she had heard something about porridge, which did not sound very appealing. Or perhaps that was Scotland.

To her relief, breakfast at Allerton could have been taking place in any London house containing three lively young ladies. Porridge did not make an appearance and Jack was reassuringly untalkative, remaining immersed in his newspaper and apparently content to allow the chatter about modes and bonnets to wash over his head.

Only when he was drinking his second cup of coffee did he remark, ‘You will be uncomfortably tight with five in the carriage, Mama. I need to visit Newcastle. I was going to take my curricle and there would be room for—’

‘Me!’ Penelope was bouncing up and down in her seat. ‘You promised me you would take me in the curricle next time we went into Newcastle.’

‘I was going to offer the seat to Miss France. She is our guest, Penny.’

‘And a promise is a promise. I am more than happy to travel in the carriage, Lord Allerton. But thank you for the offer.’ Goodness, an hour alone in a curricle with Jack, even with a groom up behind, would be terrifying—in fact, even more so with a groom, when one would have to watch every word one said.

‘As you wish, Miss France.’ The twist of his lips told her he knew perfectly well that she was nervous of travelling with him. ‘I will take you up on the return journey.’ Lily opened her mouth to protest, realised just in time that it would sound most ungracious to do so, and shut it again with a snap. He was smiling now, the exasperating man, although what he hoped to achieve, other than to infuriate her, she had no idea.

Expecting a somewhat workaday team, Lily was surprised at the sight of the four matched bays harnessed to Lady Allerton’s rather shabby travelling carriage and the neat pair in the curricle.

Her wonder changed to suspicion as they bowled down the drive and on to the road and they remained surrounded by unbroken grazing and coppices. ‘Caroline,’ she said, low-voiced, while Lady Allerton was busy discussing a distant cousin’s impending wedding with Susan.

‘Yes, Lily?’

‘Where exactly were these horses ploughing yesterday, Caroline?’

‘Um …’

‘They were nowhere near a plough, were they? And the pair in the curricle did not have new shoes either.’

‘Oh, dear, you have caught me out—I am afraid I kidnapped you.’

‘But why? I mean, I am a complete stranger, I was obviously at outs with Jack …’

‘I liked you. And it seemed so inhospitable to let you drive off all the way back to Newcastle in the rain after Jack had been such a grouch.’

Lily regarded her doubtfully. It appeared to her that there was rather more to it than Caroline was saying. She had recognised Lily from Jack’s description of her, and she obviously knew about the duel and his wounded arm, unlike the rest of her family—but that ought to have made her hostile, not welcoming.

But Lily could hardly dispute the point or probe further with the others in the carriage, so all she could do was smile and accept it. It was not until they had driven a further three miles and there was a lull in the conversation that Lily recalled that Jack had said nothing about Caroline’s transparent fabrication. Had he really wanted her to stay? Lily watched the passing countryside abstractedly while she wrestled with the problem—and the unanswerable question: what good will it do me to know?

‘Where is your agent’s office, Miss France?’ Lady Allerton broke into her thoughts and she realised they were coming into Newcastle.

‘I have it written down.’ Lily flipped through her notebook and offered it to Lady Allerton. ‘I am afraid I have no idea where it is.’

‘Very conveniently placed, as it happens. We can leave the carriages at the Maid’s Head, which is what we usually do. I have some calls to make and Lovell can escort you to your agent’s. With Caroline, of course.’ Lily managed to keep from blushing. What Lady Allerton would think if she knew what had taken place yesterday in her own picture gallery she shuddered to imagine, but now she thought it correct for Lily to be chaperoned in public with Jack. For which one could only be grateful.

‘We can meet for an light luncheon and you can all do your shopping after that, while Jack sees to his own business,’ Lady Allerton continued, satisfied she had organised everyone’s conflicting needs to a nicety.

The agent’s office was so commonplace to Lily that she was amused at the well-bred interest Caroline was showing at being in such surroundings. A clerk came forward with a polite enough greeting, which turned to positively obsequious grovelling when he realised with whom he was dealing. They were ushered into an inner office with much ceremony. Lily kept an eye on the clock and was not surprised to see Jack doing exactly the same thing.

‘Taking a suspiciously long time,’ he observed. ‘Do you think they are digging out the second set of books?’

‘I sincerely hope not,’ Lily said with feeling. ‘I really do not want to spend a week going through everything with a fine-tooth comb … Good day, Mr Lovington. I imagine you are surprised to see me.’

As soon as she saw him Lily thought she could see the problem: Lovington was a worrier. Appointed by her trustees several years ago, he had seemed a straightforward, cautious and reliable man, but now he looked ineffectual and indecisive. Unless he was a first-class actor, Lily could not imagine he had the wit to defraud her.

‘Miss France! What an honour! I had no idea! Is something wrong?’

‘Nothing, I am sure, Mr Lovington.’ He was not going to recall his manners without a prompt, so she introduced her companions. ‘Miss Lovell and Lord Allerton accompany me, as you see; I am staying with them and thought I should not let the opportunity pass to drop in and see how you go on.’

Now she had met him again, she certainly did not want to find herself a guest in his house. It had not occurred to her just how uncomfortable that might be, given that she wished to scrutinise the books. Could she continue to stay at the castle? Caroline and Lady Allerton had both been most pressing. Lily fought a brisk battle with her conscience and lost. She wanted to stay at the castle, for several reasons; not least was the completely unacceptable one that she wanted to be near Jack. Well, she had spent her entire life doing more or less what she wanted; while her hostess appeared to enjoy her presence, she would stay.

Half an hour later, Lily emerged with a clerk and a boy trotting at her heels, both laden with ledgers and the keys to the warehouse, which Mr Lovington had obviously been dithering about—should he visit it himself? Could he make a decision without further guidance? Lily had firmly removed the keys and assured him she would assess it.

Her trustees were certain that a location nearer the waterfront would be advantageous, and pointed out that the current warehouse was too small. Lily was not so sure they were correct, and increasingly certain she could not trust Mr Lovington’s judgement in any case.

‘I cannot decide whether he is lazy, incompetent or merely lacking in confidence,’ she murmured to Jack. ‘Something will have to be done about him.’ She nodded briskly to the clerk. ‘Just run those ledgers along to the Maid’s Head and have them placed in Lady Allerton’s private parlour,’ she instructed. They hurried on ahead, Lily strolling after them until they reached the corner. ‘I just want to make sure they actually get there,’ she confided.

‘What a very suspicious mind you do have, Miss France!’ Jack grinned at her and Lily found herself smiling back.

‘I do like to make sure.’ Something across the street caught her eye as she tucked the warehouse keys in her reticule. ‘Caroline, I think that lady is waving at you.’

‘Oh, yes. Jack, see, it is Jane Henderson and her sister Kate.’ Caroline waved back and the Henderson ladies, their maid on their heels, joined the Allerton party.

‘We were just on our way to visit Mrs Hodges,’ Jane explained once the introductions had been made. ‘You remember her from dancing lessons, Miss Allerton—she was Maria Bates. She has just had her first baby.’

‘But of course I remember her! Dear Maria—how wonderful. What a pity I cannot call today, but do give her my warmest wishes.’

‘Why can you not visit?’ Lily asked. ‘Is her house so very far?’

‘No, I think only five minutes’ walk away, but there are rather a lot of us.’

‘I meant alone, with your friends. We can meet you back at the Maid’s Head.’

‘I will send my maid back with you,’ Miss Henderson offered. ‘Maria would love to see you.’

Jack regarded Caroline’s retreating back as, times to meet up again at the inn agreed, she tripped off happily with the Henderson sisters. ‘So much for my Mama’s careful provision of a chaperon for you, Miss France.’

‘I am sure she was only concerned about me going to a place of business without a female companion, not that she thought I needed chaperoning when in your company,’ Lily said repressively, and with a complete disregard for past experience. ‘If you would just see me back to the Maid’s Head, I will wait for the others.’

‘Who, as we agreed, will be another hour and a half at least. You will be bored to tears. Shall we go and look at this warehouse?’

‘Have we time?’

‘I should think so, if we take a hackney carriage.’ Jack hailed one as he spoke, calling up the address Mr Lovington had given Lily before handing her in. ‘At least this will eliminate it altogether if it is no good, and if it is promising you can always pay another visit.’

‘I suspect that this is a situation where Lady Allerton would expect me to have a chaperon,’ Lily remarked thoughtfully as the hackney headed down to the quayside, clattering over the cobbles.

‘Not the most promising location for attempting to ravish a lady,’ Jack murmured, watching her from under hooded lids.

‘Adrian did not find it inhibiting, if you recall.’ Lily thought back to that foggy night and shuddered.

‘That was a private carriage, presumably—quite unexceptionable for seduction, whereas this vehicle is thoroughly inappropriate.’ Jack prodded a worn seat disdainfully. ‘I can assure you that your virtue is completely safe in this.’

‘I have no doubt about that whatsoever,’ Lily agreed doucely, letting her reticule, weighed down by the heavy warehouse keys, thud meaningfully into her palm.

From the glint in Jack’s eyes she wondered for a moment whether he would regard that as a challenge, then the coach jolted to a halt. From the window she could see a glimpse of the Tyne, its waters almost obscured by river craft large and small, and the noise and odours of the docks filled the carriage as Jack opened the door.

‘Well, Miss France? Armed with your loaded reticule, are you willing to venture into a deserted warehouse with me?’