Chapter 4 #4
She was surprised and delighted to find a shelf of modern novels and wondered if these were the taste of Nicholas’s “guests.” She would certainly make full use of them.
One of the worst things about the months in Derby Square had been the lack of reading material other than newspapers.
Perhaps there would be a copy of that interesting new novel, Pride and Prejudice, or Lord Byron’s The Giaour.
She found neither, but there were enough other treasure to distract her. With greedy fingers she traced the spines of Camilla and The Wanderer by Frances Burney, and a group of Minerva novels. The Demon of Sicily sounded exciting, but The Miraculous Nuptials caught her eyes and she took it down.
As she went to sit and read Eleanor noticed a large portfolio upon the central table.
Somewhat hesitantly she opened it, then gasped softly at what it contained—beautiful oriental prints such as she had never seen before.
They were exquisite jewels of fresh color and graceful line, and she settled to study them, her novel forgotten.
After a while she closed the boards again and sat in thought. Those prints were not bought as a job lot. They were carefully acquired treasures.
What had such a nondescript person as herself to do with the owner of this house?
She remembered the marriage she and Lord Stainbridge had planned, one in which she would simply have to be conformable and bear children for a mostly absent husband.
She had to admit that was no longer the marriage she wanted.
Nicholas Delaney had truly entranced her, consciously or not.
She was spellbound. She could imagine nothing more satisfying than to study him and warm herself at the fire of his spirit.
She longed to learn from him the secret of life.
But then she sighed, the flash of excitement failing.
Ashes do not burn. All she had to offer was that which she had contracted to give, but she could at least ensure he was not cheated of that.
She would match him as best she could. She would strive to be a pleasant and undemanding companion when they were together, uncomplaining when they were apart.
If he wished it, she would be a credit to him in Society, and above all she would build a life for herself so that when he wished to leave he would feel no remorse.
With a tightening of her stomach, she made another resolution. She would endeavor to respond to his lovemaking. It was hardly fair to expect him to handle her always like plaster lace.
The previous night, however, had not removed her fear. For one thing, she was aware that he had been careful. One day he would forget…
She realized her hands were clenched painfully tight. Slowly she relaxed them. This is what you must fight, Eleanor, my girl.
Nicholas Delaney had a brief interview with his new brother-in-law at his house in Derby Square and came away with a wry smile.
He then went straight to a much more elegant mansion near Grosvenor Square, where he was soon shown into a richly appointed study and into the presence of a tall, broad-shouldered man of about fifty.
“Mr. Delaney,” intoned the footman. Lord Melcham rose smiling to his feet.
“Delaney! It is indeed a pleasure to meet you, sir.”
“And you, Lord Melcham,” Nicholas said politely as he took a seat.
“The government is most grateful for the assistance you are giving us, young man.”
Nicholas took the glass of sherry offered and commented, “I cannot say I have done anything as yet, though I have made contact with Madame Bellaire again, as instructed.”
“Yes, I understand she crossed the Channel on the same packet as you. That was well done!”
Nicholas sipped the Amontillado. “Completely fortuitous, I confess, my lord. Personal business forced me to come home immediately. As it happens, I did not even know Therese was on the ship, but I did speak with her briefly in Newhaven.”
The older man frowned. “Briefly? Would that not have been an excellent opportunity to reestablish your … er … relationship?”
Nicholas smiled down at his glass. “I was slightly hampered, sir, by the presence of my wife.”
Lord Melcham stared. “Dammit, man. You’re not married!”
“I am now. Very recently.”
Lord Melcham jerked to his feet to pace the room, his color high and his strong jaw tight. “You’re an irresponsible blackguard, Delaney! What do you mean by it? You had no thought of marriage a month back. How can you pursue this matter for us now?”
Nicholas’s own features had tightened slightly under this attack, but his tone was level as he replied. “The reason for the marriage is my own business—”
“Ha! You dallied once too often and got caught!”
Nicholas’s fingers tightened on his glass. “If you wish, sir. My marriage will not affect our plans. I will resume my liaison with Therese if she is willing. I should mention, however, that she had a young companion at Newhaven who appeared to be to her taste.”
Lord Melcham turned on his guest the stern stare that had made subordinates quiver. “My information was that her affection for you in Vienna went very deep. I am sure you can rekindle it … if you put your mind to the matter.”
Nicholas met Lord Melcham’s challenging gaze.
“I will do what I have pledged to do if it is at all in my power. I am sure the matter can be easily handled. Despite your evidence, I cannot believe Therese is involved in a plot to free Napoleon, or that she was responsible for Anstable’s death.
She is completely apolitical and dislikes violence. She cares for nothing except herself.”
Melcham shrugged and, obviously deciding his plan was not threatened, resumed his seat. “Perhaps she thinks to gain Bonaparte’s interest and favor. I hear she is a most attractive woman.”
“Most. But also shrewd enough to know that chances of fortune or glory through Napoleon are now remote. His day is past.”
“True enough, though some of us would rather he was farther away than Elba.” Lord Melcham studied the young man who had been recruited into his undercover force.
He was handsome in an unusual kind of way. Well-enough looking but it was the way he moved and something in the eyes that set him apart. He could see why his man in Paris had thought Nicholas Delaney could twist a woman around his fingers.
Lord Melcham was used to judging men, and he judged this one to be intelligent and not without character. But unpredictable. He didn’t like dealing with these bored sprigs of the aristocracy who thought it fun to dabble in espionage. Anstable had been one, and look where that had got them.
“You’ll carry on with it then?” he asked at last.
“Yes.”
“Then I thank you, Delaney, and wish you luck. We have finally put an end to war, and it is the duty of every man to preserve the peace.” Knowing he had been resented, Lord Melcham attempted a genial tone. “Don’t suppose it’ll be a hardship at all, Delaney, making love to a woman like that. Eh?”
Nicholas stood and his expression was very cool. “On the contrary, Lord Melcham, it will be most unpleasant. But then, having missed the Peninsula, I feel it is time to suffer in the cause of my country. Good day to you.”
Lord Melcham was left to stare at the door.
“And damn your eyes too,” he muttered. After a moment he managed to dismiss the qualm he felt about the plan he had put in hand.
It was too important a matter to fret over damaged sensibilities.
He resolved, however, to be a little more careful in his future dealings with Nicholas Delaney.
Eleanor was still sitting curled up in the library, delighting in the unlikely adventures of the heroine of The Miraculous Nuptials, when Nicholas returned. He gave her a friendly kiss on the cheek.
“What have you found to do with yourself, my dear?” he asked. He looked at the title of her book and said, “Is reality not miraculous enough for you?”
They both burst out laughing.
She gave a brief account of her activities and obtained his approval of her management of the accounts. Then she turned the question back on him.
“Oh, besides seeing your brother—a most slimy individual—I have been setting in train some business.”
“What did Lionel say?” Eleanor asked, feeling sick at the thought of him.
Nicholas just laughed. “I have to give him credit for nerve. He welcomed me to the family and tried to borrow money. Short of thrashing him, which was a temptation, there seemed nothing which could disturb his good humor. You needn’t fear him. He won’t defy me and bother you.”
“Thank God.” Eleanor began to believe that particular nightmare at least was over.
Nicholas then turned the talk to books, and over dinner he talked of his travels, switching from France to America to Austria to China.
At his instruction, the servants had brought the food and left. They served themselves and each other. Dining at a small table, isolated by the pool of candlelight, they could have been alone in the world. Eleanor was deliciously happy.
“Surely travel to such places must be very uncomfortable,” she said. “I have heard even the finest vessels can be primitive on long voyages.”
“That is certainly true,” he replied with feeling. “But not important. I like my comforts as well as the next man, but I think it foolish to be so afraid of a little hardship that one always stays on the safe, familiar path.”
“I would not call capture by Chinese pirates a ‘little hardship,’” Eleanor said with a smile. Then she sobered as she considered his words. “It can be difficult, you know, to escape from those familiar paths, even when they are not particularly comfortable.”
He nodded. “For women, yes, unless they are very rich or very brave. I met a lady missionary in Ceylon who had gone there against the opposition of her family. And Lady Hester Stanhope is, of course, notorious.”
Eleanor felt again that crushing sense of unworthiness.
“You must think me a very paltry specimen to have done nothing to better my situation.”