Chapter Eight #2
But no, these were Jack’s refined, almost delicate features, his pale face and his smooth black hair, although it had been cut into a smarter style.
His slight frame was encased in a superbly cut blue coat and elegant pantaloons, perfect for afternoon visiting.
His cravat was snowy white and well if plainly tied, fastened with a simple gold pin. And he was not even looking at her.
His eyes cold and indifferent like the rest of his face, he gazed around the garden or upon his hostess whenever they spoke.
Lily said, “But that’s...”
Tabitha leaned into her, digging with her elbow, and Lily trailed into silence. Fortunately, everyone else’s attention was on the duke, because Louisa, as Tabitha’s friend, had brought him to meet her first.
“Goodness, so many introductions to make!” Louisa said, coming to a halt between the chaperones’ table and the young people’s blanket. “Your grace, allow me to present Lady Sark.”
Durward and the other remaining young man had risen to their feet, but the duke’s uninterested gaze focused briefly on Tabitha without recognition or warmth. He bowed very slightly from the waist, and Tabitha inclined her head. She felt stiff and...and hurt.
His cool gaze moved on as he acknowledged each of Louisa’s introductions in the same manner.
“The Duke of Isbourne,” she finished, rather like a conjurer at a fair. “He bears a message to you, Tab, from someone called Sir Hubert, but I am trying to persuade him to join our little party. Tea will be served any moment. Do sit down, your grace...”
She flitted off, taking an unnecessarily circuitous route back to the house, no doubt to spread the gossip of the duke’s arrival as she went.
The duke sat down in the vacant chair at the chaperone’s table.
Tabitha, for once, could think of nothing to say. Had he really brought a message from the magistrate whom she had told about the highwayman? Or was that a mere excuse to see her? Or Lily?
“Very pleased to meet your grace finally,” Durward said in his easy manner. “I have always accounted myself indebted to you for the princely sum of five guineas which I won in a wager at Oxford.”
The duke’s expressionless lips parted. “Over whether or not I would die there?”
Only Durward seemed immune from the chill shock of that. “Oh no, whether or not you were there at all! I glimpsed you through a guard of prissy old bores on Magdalen Bridge.”
Everyone seemed to hold their collective breath, waiting for his haughty grace to take offence. Behind Jack’s chair, Carily and his acolyte strolled past, blowing at the back of the ducal head. One of the youths on the blanket giggled.
Jack’s gaze met Durward’s. His lip twitched. “That would have been me,” he allowed. “Though I confess I do not recall you.”
“No reason why you should. You can’t have been there long, and I was in my final year.”
“We must have been in the same year,” Barty remarked. “I remember you too.”
“I’m only sorry we were not acquainted at the time,” the duke said graciously.
Behind him, Carily and his friend, strolled past once more, closer this time, blowing audibly this time and creasing up with laughter.
Everyone pretended not to see them, though Tabitha felt her lips tighten.
“Does anyone else feel the draught of hot air?”
Tabitha laughed, and Carily coloured angrily to have been so neatly and so unanswerably reduced. Durward grinned at the duke, and the young girls looked bewildered, though Lily was frowning.
Perhaps Jack could deal with society’s snakes after all.
He seemed to have judged to a nicety just how far to let Carily go without making fuss or complaint.
She could almost see those who were nearby adjusting their opinions and expectations.
Amelia gazed at him with new interest and Miss Saunders put on her best, sophisticated smile.
Tabitha glanced at the duke once more, and found his gaze on her face, still cool, still expressionless.
“Perhaps, Lady Sark, you will allow me to discharge my duty by Sir Hubert?”
“Of course,” she said, allowing only the faintest hint of curiosity into her voice. She waited.
“Then do accompany me to the arbour before tea is served.” He rose, moved toward her and even held down his hand to help her rise.
It was an oddly commanding gesture, which inevitably set her back up. On the other hand, she needed to know what he was up to. The faintest twitch of his brow acknowledged her dilemma, but there was no humour in his eyes.
Touching only the tips of his fingers, she rose. “Come, then, tell me all from Sir Hubert.”
She moved quickly toward the arbour, obliging him to catch up with her, although he seemed to accomplish that easily enough in one leisurely stride.
“Sir Hubert?” she murmured. “Really?”
“Indirectly. On my way down from London, I happened to hear of a highwayman captured in Sussex whose identity was causing some problems for the local magistrate. From curiosity—”
“Of course,” she murmured.
“From curiosity,” he continued as though she had not spoken, “I took a short detour to the home of the magistrate, one Mr. Dunwoody, and was happy to identify the prisoner as the highwayman who robbed me and no doubt tried to hold you up too. There had been some doubt involving an army officer, apparently, but my testimony appeared to remove that and this Whitey is now bound over to the assizes.”
“Did you get your horse back?” she asked lightly.
“No, the wretch must have sold him and spent my money.”
“You seem to have come in to some more.”
“The new rig?” He picked an imaginary thread off his sleeve. “Will it do?”
“Eminently.”
He fished inside his coat and produced a folded document which he presented to her with a civil half-bow.
“What is this?” She frowned, breaking the seal and unfolding it to reveal a blank page. She lifted her gaze to his face and her heart turned over for here at last was the smile she had missed, shy and humorous and indescribably necessary to her sense of wellbeing.
“It’s the message from Sir Hubert. I felt I should give you something to satisfy the curious.”
She refolded it and stuffed it into her reticule. “You came here just to tell me this?”
“I thought you would like to know. I have more to tell you, too, though neither are really why I came.” Before she could ask, he hurried on. “Smith’s story turns out to be substantially true, apart from the one important fact of his name.”
“Which is?”
“Lisle.”
She blinked. “Lisle?”
“He is another nephew of the late Lord Sark, one Hunter, son of Carrington. Which makes him, I understand, the true earl.”
“It does. Oh dear.” She sank down on the arbour seat, inappropriate laughter tugging at her breath. “No wonder there has been a delay with Ralph’s writ... He said it was because the poor king is mad.”
“I’m rather afraid it is Ralph who has gone mad. Someone shot at Hunter-called-Smith outside the solicitor’s office, and if it was not Ralph, I’m pretty sure it was someone sent by him.”
Suddenly she didn’t want to laugh anymore. “But Hunter has a son who also stands in Ralph’s way... It is incredible, Jack, are you sure it is true? Could Smith have been lying to you?”
“He could,” Jack allowed, sitting down beside her. “But I don’t believe he was.” He met her gaze and his lips curved ruefully. “You are right. I have little enough experience of people, but I have met all sorts over the last few weeks, and my judgments have always been substantially correct.”
“No one is infallible.”
“True. And I have alerted all authorities concerned, just in case.”
“Is that why you stopped hiding?” she asked curiously. “To have the authority of the duke?”
“No.” He hesitated. “I had already decided that. You were right at the Headless Horseman. Perhaps I needed my escape to find my way, and I did have a lot of fun. But it is time to do so openly. As myself.”
“And so the world opens at your feet.” She spoke lightly and yet her voice almost cracked, for she already missed her shy, mysterious young friend with the unique outlook and matching humour...
“And at yours, I see.” Unexpectedly, he reached up and touched her hair.
Her breath caught until she saw the circlet of daisies hanging from his finger. She laughed, her face heating with embarrassment. “Oh, the devil, I forgot all about that! And here I was on my dignity among all the dowagers and dukes!”
“A token from an admirer?” he asked lightly.
“Oh no, only Durward. He is an old friend.” She jumped to her feet. “Look, here comes tea. We should go back. Is there anything else?”
“Yes.” He rose and again walked beside her, not touching.
Was that his ducal dignity back in place?
“Ralph is struggling for money, even with the earldom behind him. As part of Lily’s settlements, I’m sure he plans to extract a personal payment from me that neither Lily nor the earldom could touch. ”
Tabitha frowned. “Can he really think you are so desperate?”
“I imagine the uncles must have painted me as such.” He spoke with so little expression that she knew it hurt as well as annoyed.
He cast her a quick smile, Jack once more.
“They know I am here. I expect at least one of them within the next few days. I suspect you should also prepare for Ralph’s arrival.
Shooting at Hunter might well have been a moment of madness, but now he’ll be determined to get Lily’s imaginary dowry before news of the alternative earl is out. ”
Tabitha regarded him. “Do you know, before I met you, my life was dull?”
His smile dawned, sweet and yet heady in a way that was entirely adult. “Oh, so was mine.”
She almost took his arm, but quite suddenly her eyes fell on Carily, throwing himself back on the blanket and attracting the attention of the three young ladies. “Watch your back around him,” she said abruptly.
“Who is he?”
“Lord Carily. He doesn’t like not to be the centre of attention, and I’m afraid that will be you as long as you are here. Are you staying?”
He didn’t answer, for they had returned to the chaperones’ table, where he bowed her into the vacant chair.
As if by magic, a servant placed another for him beside her.
It was only as her tea was poured that she realized he had never returned her daisy chain.
Either it sat forlorn on the arbour seat, or it was in his pocket.