Читать книгу Regency Pleasures and Sins Part 1 - Louise Allen, Christine Merrill - Страница 12

Tallie spent a week engaged in exemplary hard work at Madame d’Aunay’s, activity that entirely failed to distract her mind from worrying about Miss Gower or, when all self-discipline failed her, brooding about Lord Arndale. She was dwelling upon him, she told herself, because he had proved so infuriating. It was nothing to do with their encounter at the studio and most certainly had not the slightest connection with the fact he was an extremely attractive man.

As she had feared, Lady Parry’s special hat proved beyond rescue, so it had to be entirely remade from scratch. Faced with the sale of it twice over, Madame was not moved to scold Tallie for the accident and instead recommended her personal service to a certain Mrs Leighton. ‘A cit, of course,’ she confided, ‘but newly married and her husband is as rich as they come and denies her nothing. I expect her to spend at least as much as Miss Gower ever did and I would not want you to suffer from the loss of a client.’

But Tallie was not concerned about the size of Miss Gower’s orders, and her grief when she heard the news that the old lady had finally slipped away two days after her last hat was delivered was as genuine as if she had been a relative.

On Saturday evening the residents of the lodging-house in Upper Wimpole Street found themselves together in the parlour before dinner. Although they were each engaged upon some small task, Tallie sensed a palpable air of relaxation amongst all of them with the end of a busy week.

‘This is pleasant to be all together,’ Zenna observed cheerfully. ‘Do you not go to the Opera House this evening, Millie?’

‘No, the run finished yesterday and they are staging a masquerade tonight. The new production begins on Monday—it is called The Lost Italian Prince and is a very affecting melodrama.’

‘And do you have a good part?’ Tallie enquired. She was sorting through a pile of coloured silks, which had become, through some alchemy of their own, hopelessly tangled whilst untouched in a closed box. Millie was a rarity in the world of the theatre—a genuinely chaste young lady—and her aunt and her friends did their best to support her, while living in constant anxiety about the bucks and roués she inevitably encountered.

‘Yes!’ Millie glowed with pride. ‘I have a speaking line all to myself and I sing in a trio in the second act. I play one of the village maidens who, with her friends, helps hide the Prince whilst he is fleeing his Wicked Uncle.’

‘What happens in the end?’ Mrs Blackstock enquired, looking up from the account book she was filling in at the other end of the table from Zenna, who was marking her pupils.’ French vocabulary work.

Millie put down the sheet she was hemming, curled up more comfortably on the rather battered sofa and prepared to explain the plot. ‘Well, the Prince falls in love with this village maiden—only she isn’t really, she’s the daughter of the Duke in disguise because he wants her to marry this awful man—and when the Wicked Uncle—the Prince’s uncle, that is, who is trying to murder him—finds where he is hiding, she sacrifices herself by throwing herself from the battlements in front of his troops and—’

The sound of the front door-knocker thudding with great force in a resounding tattoo brought each lady upright with a start, for one moment convinced that the Wicked Uncle himself must be at the door.

‘My goodness, who can that be?’ Mrs Blackstock demanded, putting down her quill.

‘Someone’s very superior footman, I should imagine,’ Tallie replied, getting up to edge the curtain aside and peep out into the dark, wet street. ‘That was a fine example of the London Knock if ever I heard one. It is too dark outside, I cannot make out who it is. Oh, yes, now Annie has opened the door I can see the livery. Why, surely that is one of Lady Parry’s footmen! I wonder why she is sending me a message here, she always sends orders to the shop.’

Annie came in, her sharp face flushed with importance. ‘There’s this footman, mam, and he’s brought this letter for Miss Grey, mam. Cor, he is tall, mam.’

‘Thank you, Annie,’ Mrs Blackstock said repressively. ‘Wait and see if Miss Grey has a reply for him.’

Tallie turned the letter over in her hands, then, realising that she was never going to find out what it was about until she opened it, cracked the seal in a shower of red wax and spread out the single sheet.

‘But how strange!’

‘What?’ Zenna demanded at last, when, after the one exclamation, Tallie fell silent.

‘Why, Lady Parry asks me to call at ten on Monday morning upon a personal matter. Annie, please say to the footman that Miss Grey will be happy to call as Lady Parry asks. Can you remember that?’

‘Yes, miss.’ The maid closed the door behind her, mouthing the words of the message silently.

‘What can it mean, Zenna?’

Tallie handed the letter to Zenna, who scanned it and handed it back with a shrug. ‘I have no more idea than you, goose.’ Her friend laughed. ‘Perhaps she wants to set you up in your own millinery business, producing exclusive hats only for her and her circle of bosom friends.’

‘Now that would be wonderful,’ Tallie agreed, smiling back. ‘But somehow I do not think it likely.’ Rack her brains as she might, she could think of no plausible explanation for the mysterious note and she could not help but feel a twinge of apprehension at the thought of another visit to Bruton Street so soon. What if she met Lord Arndale again? ‘I wish tomorrow were not Sunday,’ she said with a little shiver. ‘I hate mysteries and being kept in suspense.’

Sunday did indeed drag, despite Matins at St Marylebone Church and a damp walk in Regent’s Park. By mid-afternoon Tallie was disgusted to find herself apprehensive and, as she described it to Zenna, ‘all of a fidget'.

‘But what on earth is the matter with you?’ her friend enquired, looking up at Tallie quizzically from her position on the hearthrug where she was burning her fingers roasting chestnuts. They had the parlour to themselves and had settled down to an afternoon of comfortable relaxation before the chilly walk to church for evensong.

Tallie considered confessing that her wild imagination was conjuring up images of Lord Arndale denouncing her to Lady Parry as an immoral and wanton young woman who posed nude for artists, but the words would not form on her lips. ‘I am afraid I may have done something to displease Lady Parry and she is summoning me to say that she no longer requires my services,’ she blurted out at last.

‘What nonsense,’ Zenna stated. ‘Ouch! Oh, do pass that bowl, Tallie—these are so hot.’ She dropped the nuts into the dish and gave the matter some thought while she sucked her fingers. ‘Even if you had displeased her, surely she would write to Madame d’Aunay, not ask you to call?’

Not if Lord Arndale had told her such a scandalous story, Tallie thought miserably. Lady Parry was too kind to spread such a tale abroad, but she would certainly not tolerate continuing contact with such an abandoned young woman.

Zenna twisted round on the rug and studied Tallie’s face thoughtfully. ‘Has this anything to do with that incident at the studio the other day?’ she demanded.

‘Oh! How did you guess? Zenna, I met the man who found me in the closet—I would know his voice anywhere. And he is Lady Parry’s trustee and nephew and he came to the house when I was there last.’

‘And did he cry, “There is that beautiful woman I saw in a state of nature the other day"? Or did he quite fail to recognise you face on, fully clad, with your hair up and a bonnet on your head?’

‘He did not recognise me then, I am sure of it. But, Zenna, he may have thought about it afterwards and something might have jogged his memory …’

‘What nonsense. You told me you had your hair loose and it was falling around your face, did you not? It is a lovely colour, but not such an unusual shade that he could recognise you from it—and you look very different with it up, in any case. Besides, I somehow feel it would not have been your hair he would have been looking at.’

Zenna got to her feet and took the bowl of chestnuts from Tallie’s limp grasp. ‘If you are not going to eat these, I most certainly am. Do you really think that he took so much notice of you? At Lady Parry’s, I mean? He would have had to be made of stone not to take notice before, of course.’

‘No, you are quite right, Zenna. I am being foolish. All he saw at Lady Parry’s was a milliner, not a young lady, or an artist’s model.’

‘Ah, but you rather wish he had.’

Tallie made a face at her friend, but some treacherous part of her mind did indeed wish that those lazy grey eyes had looked at her and seen neither a naked model nor a humble menial, but the real young lady beneath those guises. Stop it, she thought. He is dangerous, and leaned over to take a still-hot chestnut from the bowl.

But a long night tossing and turning did nothing to calm Tallie’s nervous apprehension. She dressed with care and penned a note to her employer explaining that she had been called away for the day unexpectedly and sent little Annie off to deliver it, keeping her fingers crossed that Madame would not take exception to this rare absence.

Tallie took a hackney carriage, reluctant to risk arriving either late or windswept on Lady Parry’s doorstep, but even a safe and punctual arrival did not make her feel any better.

Rainbird opened the front door with his usual stately demeanour, although a spark of something more than welcome showed in his eyes as he regarded the shabby visitor. ‘Good morning, Miss Grey. Her ladyship asked me to show you through to the library.’

Tallie followed across the hall to a door she had never entered on her previous visits and was startled when Rainbird opened it and announced with some emphasis, ‘Miss Grey.’ It was not treatment she was used to and Tallie looked around the room with interest as she entered.

The first person she saw was Lord Arndale standing by a heavy mahogany desk set in the window embrasure. He had apparently been leaning over studying a document spread before the other occupant of the room and had glanced up at Rainbird’s announcement. Tallie’s heart gave a hard thump at the sight of him and she looked in confusion at the other man, a complete stranger to her.

The two could hardly have been a greater contrast. Nick Stangate towered over his seated companion, broad shoulders filling his riding coat, everything about him seeming to exude life and ruthlessly controlled energy. The other man was more than twice his age, his hair scant and greying, his face thin and of an unhealthy shade. His eyes, though, were sharp and intelligent and Tallie almost stepped back as he fixed them on her face.

There was no sign of Lady Parry and, in the few seconds of silence as the two men regarded her, Tallie felt the colour ebbing out of her face. Why she should feel she was on trial in some way she had no idea, unless it was her guilty awareness of her scandalous secret.

As Mr Dover rose to his feet Nick Stangate straightened up and studied the young woman who had been shown in. The same shabby gown and pelisse as before; the same rather elegant bonnet, but this time she looked as though she had passed a very indifferent night. He stopped speculating as his companion spoke.

‘Miss Grey, good morning. We have not met: I am James Dover, Miss Gower’s attorney at law. I believe you are acquainted with Lord Arndale, who is her executor?’

Now, what the devil had there been in that introduction to cause her to go white to the lips? Nick stepped forward and took her hand. ‘Miss Grey, you have gone quite pale. Are you unwell? Please, sit here.’

She did not resist him as he urged her gently into a chair. ‘I am sorry, my lord, I am being foolish. It is just that meeting a lawyer brought back the memory of the last encounters I had with members of Mr Dover’s profession. You must forgive me, sir,’ she added, turning to the older man. ‘I mean no disrespect, Mr Dover. The situation when my father, and then my mother, died was … difficult.’

Nick realised that he was still holding her hand lightly in his. Her wrist felt cold under his fingers and she looked up to meet his eyes. Hers were candid, green and intelligent. He realised that although she must be deeply puzzled she had asked no questions. Her reticence was refreshing and also disconcerting. ‘I am sorry we alarmed you, Miss Grey, your pulse is racing.’ Her gaze dropped, and on an impulse he added, ‘For a moment I thought you had a guilty secret.’

There was a silence. Then her eyes flew back to his face and to his surprise Nick saw the colour staining her throat, rising up to her cheeks. Without meaning to he had touched a raw spot and some hunter’s instinct in him stirred. Instinctively his grasp on her wrist tightened and she pulled her hand free, leaving Nick staring down at her bent head in wild speculation. He thought he had found out all there was to know about Miss Talitha Grey. Had his investigators been so careless as to have missed a scandal?

With a rustle of skirts his aunt swept in. ‘I am sorry to have kept you all. Good morning, Miss Grey. I do hope you did not get wet—it is a perfectly dreadful morning is it not?’

‘Indeed, my lady,’ Tallie agreed. She stood up and bobbed a curtsy. Nick saw her hand go to the wrist he had been grasping. Had he hurt her? She had made no protest. ‘On days like this one wonders if spring will ever come,’ she added politely.

‘Do sit down, everyone.’ Lady Parry took the chair next to Tallie, and regarded the men. ‘You have introduced yourselves? Excellent. Well, Mr Dover, you had better explain to Miss Grey, who is doubtless wondering what on earth this is all about, why she has been asked to come here this morning.’

Mr Dover inclined his head, adjusted his spectacles, coughed and flattened the document before him with one hand. Nick, to whom none of this was new, watched Talitha from under hooded lids. Her first reaction was going to be very instructive.

‘Miss Grey, as I told you, I was the attorney at law to Miss Gower and, with Lord Arndale here, it falls to me to administer her will.’ He paused and regarded Tallie benevolently. ‘I have to tell you that you are remembered in that document.’

‘Oh, how very kind of Miss Gower!’ To Nick’s surprise he saw her eyes were filling with tears. Why had he thought her so composed that she would not give way to emotion? She hastily pulled her handkerchief from her reticule. ‘I beg your pardon.’ She dabbed her eyes, tried to speak, tried again and with an apparent effort managed to say, ‘I will treasure any keepsake that she has left me; I was very fond of her.’

Nick chuckled softly to himself. If she thought she had inherited a pretty ornament or a book or two, Miss Grey was in for a surprise. He was startled as she shot him a reproachful glance. She was not going to pretend she was not affected by the old lady’s thoughtfulness, the expression said as plainly as though she had spoken, even if his lordship found a milliner’s gratitude for a trifling gift amusing. He absorbed the reproof silently. What very expressive eyes she had …

‘It amounts to rather more than a keepsake, Miss Grey,’ the lawyer said, smiling at her. ‘I am happy to tell you that you stand to inherit fifty thousand pounds.’

‘But … but that is …’

‘Several thousand pounds a year if invested prudently. I must congratulate you.’

‘I was going to say “impossible”,’ Tallie stammered. ‘There must be some mistake, surely? Lady Parry?’

Appealed to, Lady Parry shook her head, laughing kindly at Tallie’s confusion. ‘No mistake, my dear. Miss Gower knew of your history, as I do. You must forgive us for looking into the past of such an unusual young milliner as you are. You must also forgive us for a little plot to restore you to the sort of life to which you were born and bred. It gave Miss Gower such pleasure to think of the difference this would make for you.’

Tallie looked from one face to another, her gaze skimming hastily over Nick’s, set in an unhelpfully bland expression. She finally settled on the lawyer. ‘But, Mr Dover, is this legal? I am no relative of Miss Gower’s—surely someone else has a better claim to her fortune?’

‘She was so devoid of relatives that she had to borrow me from my aunt to stand in as a nephew and executor,’ Nick remarked, reaching the decision that she was as genuinely incredulous as she appeared and liking her for the lack of any sign of pleasure at the inheritance. No grasping little miss, this one. ‘You are cheating no one of their dues.’

‘But her servants, her friends …’

‘Her servants have been left well provided with generous annuities and her few close friends such as myself have all been left keepsakes—pictures, jewellery and so forth.’ His aunt leaned across and patted her hand. ‘None of us need her money, my dear Miss Grey. It is quite all right. This is not a dream, and you are perfectly entitled to your inheritance.’

Mr Dover got to his feet and began to shuffle papers into a portfolio. ‘You will need a day or so to recover from the surprise, Miss Grey, but I will write to confirm what I have said and you will doubtless be able to furnish me with the direction of your bank and your man of business.’ He tied the cords around the folder and bowed to the ladies. ‘Your ladyship, Miss Grey, I bid you good day.’

Lady Parry got to her feet. ‘If I could just have a word, Mr Dover. There is the question of Miss Gower’s house—the staff asked me for advice on several matters, which I am sure you are far better equipped than I to answer. Miss Grey, would you be comfortable here for a few minutes? There is something I would very much like to discuss with you.’

The door closed behind her, leaving Nick alone with Miss Grey. Now was as good a time as any to confirm what his agents had found out about this young woman who had so won the hearts of his aunt and Miss Gower. Was she all she seemed? And what was the guilty secret that made her blush so? He suppressed a stirring of interest, which he recognised as sensual. She was far from his usual type; possibly that other blonde in the studio had had more of an effect than he thought.

Tallie was unconscious of the regard bent upon her face. She found it difficult to concentrate on what she had just been told, it was too unbelievable. Instead she found her mind wandering to the Peerage, which she had rather secretively conned the day before. Nicholas Stangate, 3rd Earl of Arndale … The family seat in Hertfordshire, a town house in Brook Street. Unmarried, twenty-nine years old with no brothers or sisters …

‘You do not appear very pleased by the news you have just received,’ he remarked, sinking into the seat opposite hers and leaning back. Tallie looked at him: he appeared completely relaxed, but his gaze was anything but casual.

‘I was not thinking about it,’ she admitted. She waited for that dark brow to lift, and, as she had anticipated, it did. Despite everything she smiled slightly, liking the expression of dry humour.

‘I have said something to amuse you?’

‘No, it was just that I was expecting you to raise one eyebrow when I admitted to such odd behaviour—and you did.’

Both brows shot up and he grinned at her disarmingly, instantly subtracting years from his age as the cool reserve vanished. ‘I am appalled that I am so predictable in my mannerisms. I can see that acquaintanceship with you will be a salutary experience, Miss Grey.’ She dropped her eyes, suddenly conscious of how intimate the conversation seemed, alone in the room with him. ‘Not only do you have a keen eye to depress affectation, but you have a mind above the acquisition of a fortune. Do tell me, how is it you can dismiss fifty thousand pounds with such ease?’

‘Oh, no! I cannot do that.’ Her eyes lifted swiftly. ‘No, you misunderstand me, my lord. It is such a shock that it does not seem real. I cannot think about it without becoming confused, so I was just letting my mind wander until I felt more rational.’

‘Then I think you should have a glass of sherry, which will restore the tone of your mind a little, and we can discuss it. You will have some practical affairs to consider almost immediately.’ He saw her dubious expression as he reached for the decanter that stood on a table beside his chair. ‘Now, what is disturbing you, Miss Grey? The thought of consuming wine at this hour of the day or my presumption in making free with my aunt’s decanters? If it is the former, think of it as medicine for your shock; if the latter, rest assured that I take no liberties without my aunt’s permission.’

Tallie bit her lip in vexation. Was she so easy to read that he could observe her every emotion in her face? ‘Neither, my lord. It is simply that I do not feel that it is my place to be—’

‘But what is your place, Miss Grey?’ He reached over and handed her the glass before picking up his own. ‘To your good fortune, and to your happy restoration to your natural position in Society.’

Tallie took an experimental sip and decided she liked the taste. It still felt very strange to be having such a conversation with a gentleman, let alone this one, but she refused to appear a simpering miss, so she retorted frankly, ‘If I knew what that was, I might welcome my restoration to it, my lord!’

‘I wish you would call me Nick.’

‘Certainly not, Lord Arndale!’

‘You could adopt me as an honorary cousin,’ he suggested gravely. ‘Miss Gower considered me as a nephew and, as you are her heiress, I am sure that makes us cousins.’

In spite of her efforts Tallie could not help but laugh. ‘I beg leave to tell you that this is ridiculous, my lord. I stand in no need of cousins, only of a recommendation to a bank and to a respectable man of business who is used to managing the affairs of single ladies, and I am sure Lady Parry will be kind enough to suggest how I go about finding those.’

At that moment her ladyship opened the door and sailed in with her usual energy, smiling gratefully at Nick as he stood to offer her the chair he had been occupying.

‘I see the two of you are getting on famously, which is just as I had hoped,’ she announced, sinking down and smiling at Tallie. ‘Now, Nicholas, pour me a glass of sherry and be off with you; Miss Grey and I have plans to make.’

He handed her the glass and began to stroll out of the room but halted by Tallie’s chair. ‘I will bid you good day, Miss Grey. I have every expectation of seeing a great deal of you in the near future.’ Lady Parry appeared to notice nothing odd in his voice, but Tallie was left uncertain as to whether she had just received a threat or a promise.