Chapter Fifteen
FIFTEEN
EVER SINCE THE evening when Lord Wrotham had escorted Hero to Almack’s Assembly Rooms in his stead, Sherry had been careful to afford no other altruistic gentleman an opportunity for displaying his chivalry.
If Hero were invited to attend the Assembly under some matron’s wing, he hailed this as a reprieve, and took himself blithely off on his own amusements; but if no matron came forward he offered himself up on the altar of duty with a very good grace, even going so far as to check any attempt on Hero’s part to convince him that she would be pleased to stay at home.
Heedless his lordship might be, but however little, during the twenty-four years of his existence, he had been in the habit of considering any other desires than his own, he was not deliberately selfish, and he would have thought it a shocking thing to have condemned his wife to forgo a pleasure she obviously enjoyed merely because he himself would have preferred to have been disporting himself in quite another fashion.
It was true that when he had so light-heartedly embarked on matrimony he had not bargained for the obligations attached to it; it was equally true that he had warned Hero that he had no intention of altering his habits to suit her convenience.
He had moulded his ideas on the conduct of various sportive young matrons of his acquaintance, who certainly felt no overmastering desire to keep their husbands at their sides, but contrived – perfectly discreetly, to be sure – to amuse themselves without these complaisant gentlemen.
But Sherry had realised early in his married career that Hero differed essentially from such worldly-wise ladies.
Having neither the training that would have fitted her for fashionable life, nor relatives to whom she could turn, she was dependent upon her husband to a degree that would have alarmed him very much had he known at the outset how it would be.
Within a month of their taking up their residence in Half Moon Street, it had been borne in upon his lordship that his wife was no more fit to carve her way through life than the kitten he called her.
His lordship, who had never known responsibility, or shown the least ability to regulate his own career on respectable lines, found himself sole lord and master of a confiding little creature who placed implicit faith in his judgment, and relied upon him not only to guide her footsteps, but to rescue her from the consequences of her own ignorance.
A man with a colder heart than Sherry’s would have shrugged and turned a blind eye to his wife’s difficulties.
But the Viscount’s heart was not cold, and just as his protective instinct had one night made him search all night through the woods at Sheringham Place for a favourite dog which had dug deep into a rabbit burrow and had been trapped there, so it compelled him to take such care of his Hero as occurred to him.
She had always looked up to him and adored him, and while he took this for granted he was by no means oblivious to it, and did his best to be kind to her.
He was amused, but a little touched, to discover that no deeper felicity was known to her than to go about in his company; she would grow out of that soon enough, he supposed, quite forgetting that when she had shown a willingness to go out with Lord Wrotham the instinct of possessiveness in him had led him to discourage such practices in no uncertain manner.
So the Viscount gratified his wife and all his well-wishers by appearing with staggering regularity at the Assemblies, causing even leading optimists, like Lady Sefton, to prophesy that his marriage would be the making of him.
Another gentleman who had taken to patronising Almack’s more than was usual was that ladies’ favourite, Sir Montagu Revesby.
Blackballed he might have been by his fellow-men at Watier’s, but for all their exclusiveness the patronesses of Almack’s were not proof against air, manner, and the easy address which characterised Sir Montagu.
Had he been of plebeian birth, of course, no amount of air or manner would have availed him in those august eyes, but happily for himself his lineage was irreproachable.
Such censorious remarks as were made by Mr Fakenham, and others of his kidney, were generally ascribed to jealousy, and not much heeded; and it was only the older and soberer members amongst the ladies who viewed with disapproval Sir Montagu’s increasing attentions towards Miss Milborne.
For there could be no doubt that Sir Montagu’s sudden predilection for dancing had its roots in his admiration of the Incomparable.
Until his entry into the lists, the knowledgeable had considered Lord Wrotham to be his Grace of Severn’s most serious rival.
But Wrotham had never succeeded in walking away with Miss Milborne from under his grace’s nose, and this was what Sir Montagu in the easiest manner possible contrived to do.
It may have been that the Beauty did not altogether relish the certainty with which Severn claimed her hand for the German waltz; it may have been that she found Sir Montagu’s light touch a relief after the passionate earnestness of her younger admirers; certain it was that she bestowed her hand on him for the waltz, and left his grace discomfited.
His self-consequence was too great to allow of his following George’s example of folding his arms and gloweringly watching Miss Milborne’s progress round the room.
He led another lady out to dance, but his manoeuvres on the floor to keep Miss Milborne under observation were extremely diverting to several persons who had been watching the little comedy, notably my Lord Sheringham, who gave a spurt of laughter and bade his wife, with whom he was dancing, watch Monty cutting Severn out with the Incomparable!
His grace was too pompous to be popular with the greater number of his contemporaries, and the notion of cutting him out himself occurred to Sherry.
He entered into a wager with his cousin Ferdy that he would do it, backing himself for a handsome sum, and engaging not to make the attempt until the Duke was again soliciting Miss Milborne’s hand.
He surrendered Hero to Mr Ringwood, who had come with them to the Assembly Rooms, and bore down upon Miss Milborne just as the Duke made her a formal bow, and began to say: ‘May I hope, ma’am –’
‘’Evening, Severn!’ interrupted his lordship cheerfully. ‘My dance, Bella, I think!’
The Duke eyed him frostily. ‘I was about to beg Miss Milborne to do me the honour of bestowing her hand upon me,’ he said. ‘Ma’am –’
His most mischievous smile danced in Sherry’s eyes, drawing an answering gleam from Miss Milborne. ‘Oh, I was before you in the lists!’ he said outrageously. ‘For old times’ sake, Bella, my sweet life!’
‘Sherry, how can you?’ she said, a tremor of laughter in her voice. But she gave him her hand and let him lead her on to the floor. ‘You are quite shameless!’ she told him, as they began to circle round the room. ‘I had not thought what a long time it is since I danced the waltz with you!’
‘Too long, by Jove!’ responded his lordship promptly. ‘Ah, Bella, you should never have refused me! What a couple we must have made!’
She laughed up at him. ‘I never liked you as well until you gave up wanting me to marry you, Sherry!’
‘I? Good God, don’t I carry a broken heart in my breast?’
‘You hide it admirably! Wretch! You did not wear the willow for my sake for as much as one day!’
His arm tightened round her waist; he smiled down into her eyes. ‘If there weren’t so many people watching, do you know what I would do, Bella? I’d kiss you! Dashed if I ever saw you look more beautiful!’
‘For shame, Sherry! Remember, you are a sober married man now!’
‘Lord, yes, so I am!’ He glanced round the room. ‘What has become of Kitten? I left her with Gil, and I’d give a pony to see the old fellow waltzing! No, by Jupiter, he’s ratted! She’s dancing with George.’
‘Yes,’ said Miss Milborne, losing her sparkle. ‘How well they suit, to be sure! I am happy to see George in better spirits.’
‘Kitten always can contrive to cheer the poor fellow up,’ said his lordship unconcernedly.
The poor fellow was saying at that moment: ‘I should like to know what the deuce Sherry means by making Isabella laugh like that! Yes, and he made her blush a moment ago! I saw her!’
‘Do not look at them!’ said Hero. ‘If I were you, I would not let Isabella see that I cared whom she danced with, George!’
‘Well, I do care,’ he replied unnecessarily. ‘Besides, I don’t see what should get into Sherry to make him flirt with her when he is married to you! For that is what he is doing, Kitten! There’s no getting away from it!’
‘Well, if I do not mind it I am sure you need not.’
His brilliant, dark eyes glanced down into hers. ‘Do you not mind it?’ he asked forthrightly.
She sighed faintly. ‘Only a very little, George. If we went into the other room we need not see them, and you could bring me a glass of orgeat, and we should be comfortable, don’t you think?’
He led her off the floor. ‘No. There is no comfort for either of us!’ he said, with suppressed passion.