CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Lady Etchingham, standing at the top of the elegant stairway, receiving her guests, watched Sir Lucius Radstock’s approach with interest. Rumour had it that he had aspirations when it came to Miss Ashling and had been talking with her when she had suffered ‘the accident’.
He did not look, she admitted to herself, a man torn by worry this evening, but then perhaps he had received positive news about the lady’s recovery. He drew close, and bowed over her hand.
‘Good evening, Sir Lucius. I am so glad to see you this evening. I had wondered …’ Lady Etchingham left the sentence unfinished, but arched an eyebrow questioningly.
‘Well, we all know what made Lady Caroline Lamb slash at her wrists, poor thing. Perhaps Miss Ashling was also openly rejected, yet again, and could not face the repetition. She was never “strong”, you know. I suppose Lady Chalford might even send her back to the country and somewhere where she can be, ahem, “cared for” quietly. Such a shame.’
For a moment he froze. To compare what had happened with the very histrionic scene that Lady Caroline had made, some years earlier, when confronted and rejected by her former lover, Lord Byron, was worse than he had even imagined.
Lady Caroline had always been – erratic, indeed wayward, and so distant in character from Miss Ashling that it would have been laughable, had it not been so damaging at this moment.
He addressed the lady’s back, in a cold, clear voice. ‘Your supposition is wrong, Lady Rendlesham, and so far-fetched as to be ridiculous.’
Lady Rendlesham turned to face him, caught between triumph and just a little fear. She was not a woman who gave in easily, and certainly not gracefully, and she had one singular advantage – she was a lady and in a public place.
‘Sir Lucius. Really, sir. A lady is never wrong.’ She looked almost coy, but her eyes glittered with anger.
‘Indeed. But I say again, you are wrong.’ The implication was calculated.
‘How dare you!’
‘And how dare you make insinuations, without any 313basis, ma’am. I did not “reject” Miss Ashling, and the accident was just that, a most unfortunate accident that cut the palm of her hand. The palm.’
‘Well, you would say that, sir, if you felt some self-blame, so your words do not really count, do th—’
‘I rather think that my word counts.’ Lady Jersey’s voice, not raised, but very clear, interrupted.
‘I myself attended Miss Ashling, and the injury was to her palm.’ That she had only seen a blood-stained cloth pressed to the hand was close enough to full proof for Lady Jersey, who also disliked Aurelia Rendlesham.
‘And I heard Miss Ashling say, “I fear the glass has broken.”’ A young lady, emboldened by being on the same side as the Patroness of Almack’s, spoke up in a soft voice.
‘I am sure nobody intending to harm themselves would say that.’ The young lady then reddened as eyes turned upon her. ‘Would they?’ She faltered slightly.
‘No, my dear, they would not.’ Lady Jersey’s voice was gracious, and also grateful.
The young lady’s mama, who had, for a moment, seen her daughter’s chances of a successful Season crumble to dust from her temerity, now beamed at her progeny.
The gratitude of Lady Jersey, however brief, would mean her dear Jane being presented with more eligible gentlemen as dance partners, perhaps even an invitation to one of the lady’s more select dinners.
Jane’s chances of finding a good husband were increased.
‘And I am in agreement with Sir Lucius, Lady Rendlesham. You are wrong.’ The voice lost all graciousness and became icy.
314Lady Rendlesham reddened as if she had been slapped.
Lady Jersey was not an enemy it was wise to have.
Several of those who had been listening to Lady Rendlesham moved very slightly back from her, distancing themselves and isolating her.
Sir Lucius, whilst still seething, realised that Sally Jersey could do what he could not, and crush this poisonous snake of a woman.
‘I – may have made an error,’ faltered Lady Rendlesham, ‘though it was an easy one to—’ The last attempt to fight back was an even bigger error.
‘The doors of Almack’s are closed to you, Lady Rendlesham.
Please do not cause yourself further embarrassment by attempting to gain admission.
’ It was Lady Jersey’s coup de grace, a sanction used sparingly but always to great effect.
There was an audible gasp from some ladies present, and Aurelia Rendlesham could do no more than curtsey her acceptance of defeat and withdraw.
Lady Jersey cast Sir Lucius a swift glance that showed both triumph and understanding, nodded graciously and then declared that she, for one, was in need of one of the delightful ices that Lady Etchingham had so thoughtfully provided on this sultry evening.
Sir Lucius withdrew quietly, but before he left the party, sought out Lady Jersey.
‘Thank you,’ he said, simply.
‘Not at all, Sir Lucius. On dits are delicious, and gossip interesting, but lies out of spite are intolerable. Aurelia Rendlesham is a poisonous woman and – well, it was a pleasure. And just.’ She paused.
‘She failed to realise that it is this lady who is never wrong.’ And then, with her tinkling laugh, she offered him her hand.
He bent over it, and if, 315when he wrote later to Lord Godmanchester, he admitted that he felt he had done very little, he did say he had played a part in the fall of ‘the Rendlesham woman’.
Elizabeth left Mount Street the next day, thankfully in ignorance of what had taken place the previous evening, and with a hug from Amelia, who was too caught up in her own blossoming romance to be cast down for long by her cousin’s indisposition and departure, and a watery embrace from her aunt, who secretly felt guilty at the relief that departure would bring.
Lord Carbrooke had arranged to call upon his return from a brief visit to his parents, and with the express purpose of an interview with Lord Chalford.
Her ladyship was thus torn between triumph and the vague fear that Elizabeth’s matrimonially cursed presence might make history repeat itself in some horrible way.
To be sure, Carbrooke was not the great matrimonial prize that Lord Nuneaton would have been, but rank and wealth were not quite everything.
She had come to terms with events, and her maternal desire to see her daughter happily, as well as suitably, wed was uppermost. Carbrooke was perhaps a little young, but in the eyes of a seventeen-year-old, far more appealing than a confirmed bachelor of nearly forty; he was personable, affectionate and wealthy enough that his wife would never have to penny-pinch.
Amelia’s mama might have been flattered by Nuneaton’s attentions, but not once had the mention of his name brought the glow to Amelia’s cheek that the Viscount Carbrooke’s did, nor had she ever waxed lyrical as she did over the small services that her younger beau performed for her, whether it be picking 316up a dropped glove, or taking her up in the park, with her maid of course, in his phaeton, and driving her home when an unexpected downpour threatened.
Lord Godmanchester had no intention of taking his lady home at more than a gentle pace, as befitted her condition.
He had expected to be confined in a carriage with two ladies who would chatter, but in fact both, for their own reasons, were more inclined to sit in companionable silence.
He had bespoken rooms at The Swan, in Bedford, where they would stay the night before finishing the journey the following day.
Elizabeth leant back against the squabs and closed her eyes.
‘Is it wrong of me to think “thank goodness”, Helen?’ She broke the silence.
‘No, my dear friend, it is not. After all, you have departed upon the most cordial of terms, and what you are thankful for is the prospect of not being in this stifling metropolis, not parting from your relations.’
‘If that were but entirely true. I am conscious, when in that house, of being a failure, a disappointment.’ Elizabeth sighed. ‘Nothing is said, I grant you, but I feel it nonetheless. At least my aunt can forget that once Amelia is settled.’
‘Your cousin looks likely to make a very happy match.’
‘Oh yes. Carbrooke is a pleasant young man, neither slow-witted nor so intellectual that he will notice that Amelia is … not bookish. They will deal extremely well together, and after a few Seasons in London I have little doubt he will spend most of his time on his estates, and Amelia will settle very contentedly into the role of country lady. She confessed to me that though she was having “a 317very nice time” in London, she found it very fatiguing, and would in some ways prefer to be back in Sussex. It wasn’t something she dared admit to her mama, of course. ’
‘Oh no. I sometimes think the mamas put so much time and energy into a come-out that they forget that there is anything except the Season.’ Lady Godmanchester giggled, and placed her hand upon the just burgeoning roundness at her waist. ‘If this babe is a girl, remind me of this conversation eighteen years hence.’
Lady Godmanchester, despite the tiring nature of the journey, became quite animated as they neared Thornby Park, in eager anticipation of seeing her son, wondering how much he had grown, and with all her natural maternal instincts to the fore.
It was easy for Elizabeth to let her rattle on, and to contemplate a few weeks of rest, before addressing how she should set about setting up her own establishment.