The Convenient Marriage

Chapter Twelve

Horatia partook of breakfast in bed some six hours later. She was too young for her troubles to deprive her of sleep, but though she had certainly slept she had had horrid dreams, and awoke not very much refreshed.

When she had fled from the little card-room at Ranelagh she had been so angry that she had forgotten that her mask was off. She had run right into Lady Massey, also maskless, and for one moment they had faced each other. Lady Massey had smiled in a way that drove the blood up into Horatia’s cheeks. She had not spoken a word; and Horatia, dragging her domino closely round her, had slipped across the terrace, and down the steps into the garden.

A hackney coach had conveyed her home, and deposited her in the cold dawn in Grosvenor Square. She had half expected to find Rule sitting up for her, but to her relief there was no sign of him. She had told the tire-woman she might go to bed, and she was glad of that too. She wanted to be alone, to think over the disastrous events of the night. But when she had extricated herself from her gown, and made herself ready for bed, she was so tired that she could not think of anything, and fell asleep almost as soon as she had blown out the candle.

She awoke at about nine o’clock, and for a moment wondered why she should feel so oppressed. Then she remembered, and gave a little shudder.

She rang her silver hand-bell, and when the abigail brought in her tray of chocolate and sweet biscuits she was sitting up in bed, her curls, with the powder still clinging to them, tumbled all about her shoulders, and a deep frown on her face.

While the waiting-woman collected her scattered jewels and garments she sipped the chocolate, pondering her problem. What had seemed a mere prank twelve hours earlier had by now assumed gigantic proportions. There was first the episode of the curl. In the sane daylight Horatia was at a loss to imagine how she could ever have consented to play for such a stake. It was—yes, no use blinking facts, it was vulgar: no other word for it. And who could tell what Lethbridge might not do with it? Before that kiss she had had no fear of his discretion, but now he seemed to her monstrous, capable of boasting, even, that he had won the curl from her. As for the kiss, she supposed that she had brought that on herself; a reflection which gave her no comfort. But worst of all had been the meeting with Caroline Massey. If she had seen, and Horatia was certain that she had, the tale would be all over the town by tomorrow. And the Massey had Rule’s ear. Depend upon it, if she refrained from telling anyone else she would be bound to tell him, only too glad of the opportunity to make mischief between him and his wife.

Suddenly she pushed the tray away from her. “I’m g-going to get up!” she said.

“Yes, my lady. What gown will your ladyship wear?”

“It doesn’t m-matter,” Horatia answered curtly.

An hour later she came down the stairs, and in a resolute voice inquired of a footman whether the Earl was in the house.

His lordship, she was told, had that instant come in, and was with Mr Gisborne.

Horatia drew a breath, as though in preparation for a dive into deep waters, and walked across the hall to Mr Gisborne’s room.

The Earl was standing by the desk with his back to the door, reading a speech Mr Gisborne had prepared for him. He had evidently been riding, for he wore top-boots, a little dusty, and buckskin breeches, with a plain but excellently cut coat of blue cloth with silver buttons. He held his whip and gloves in one hand; his hat was thrown down on a chair. “Admirable, my dear boy, but far too long. I should forget the half of it, and the Lords would be shocked, quite shocked, you know,” he said, and gave the paper back to the secretary. “And Arnold—do you think—a little less impassioned? Ah yes, I thought you would agree! I am never impassioned.”

Mr Gisborne was bowing to Horatia; my lord turned his head, and saw her. “A thousand pardons, my love! I did not hear you come in,” he said.

Horatia bestowed a rather perfunctory smile on Mr Gisborne, who, accustomed to the friendliest of treatment from her, instantly wondered what could be the matter. “Are you very b-busy, sir?” she asked, raising her anxious eyes to Rule’s face.

“Arnold will tell you, my dear, that I am never busy,” he replied.

“W-well, could you spare me a m-moment of your time n-now?” Horatia said.

“As many as you desire,” he said, and held open the door for her to pass out. “Shall we go into the library, ma’am?”

“I d-don’t mind where we go,” said Horatia in a small voice. “But I want to be p-private with you.”

“My dear, this is very flattering,” he said.

“It isn’t,” replied Horatia mournfully. She went into the library, and watched him shut the door. “I want to be p-private because there is something I m-must tell you.”

The veriest hint of surprise flickered for an instant in his eyes; he looked at her for a moment, rather searchingly, she thought. Then he moved forward. “But won’t you sit down Horry?”

She stayed where she was, her hands gripping the back of a chair. “No, I think I’ll s-stand,” she answered. “M-Marcus, I had better tell you at once that I’ve done something d-dread-ful!”

At that a smile quivered at the corners of his mouth. “I’m prepared for the worst, then.”

“I assure you, it isn’t f-funny,” said Horatia tragically. “In f-fact, I’m afraid you will be amazingly angry, and I m-must own,” she added in a rush of candour, “I d-deserve it, even if you beat me with that whip, only I d-do hope you won’t, M-Marcus.”

“I can safely promise you that I won’t,” said the Earl, laying both whip and gloves down on the table. “Come, Horry, what is the matter?”

She began to trace the pattern of the chair-back with one finger. “Well, I—w-well, you see, I—M-Marcus, did they give you my m-message last night?” She raised her eyes fleetingly, and saw him gravely watching her. “I desired the p-porter to tell you, if-if you asked, that I was gone to Ranelagh.”

“Yes, I did get that message,” Rule answered.

“Well—w-well, I did go there. To the ridotto. And I w-went with Lord L-Lethbridge.”

There was a pause. “Is that all?” Rule asked.

“No,” confessed Horatia. “It’s only the b-beginning. There’s m-much worse to come.”

“Then I had better reserve my wrath,” he said. “Go on, Horry.”

“You see, I w-went with Lord Lethbridge, and—and left the message, because—because—”

“Because you naturally wanted me to know that you had—shall we say?—thrown down the glove. I quite understand that part of it,” said Rule encouragingly.

She looked up again. “Yes, that w-was the reason,” she admitted. “It wasn’t that I wanted very p-particularly to be with him, Rule. And I thought since everyone was to be m-masked that nobody would know, except you, so that I should just make you angry and n-not cause any scandal at all.”

“The matter is now perfectly clear,” said Rule. “Let us proceed to Ranelagh.”

“W-well, at first it was very p-pleasant, and I liked it excessively. Then—then we had supper in one of the boxes, and I t-teased Robert to play cards with me. You must know, M-Marcus, that I wanted dreadfully to play with him, and he never would. At last he said he would, but—but not for money.” She knit her brows, puzzling over something, and suddenly said: “Rule, d-do you think that perhaps I d-drank too much champagne?”

“I trust not, Horry.”

“Well, I c-cant account for it otherwise,” she said. “He said he would p-play for a lock of my hair, and it’s no use d-deceiv-ing you, Rule, I agreed!” As no explosion of wrath greeted this confession she took a firm grip of the chair-back, and continued. “And I l-let him take me to a p-private room—in fact, I wanted it to be p-private—and we played p-piquet, and—and I lost. And I m-must say,” she added, “though he is the most odious m-man I ever met he is a very, very fine card-p-player.”

“I believe he is,” said the Earl. “I need not ask, of course, whether you paid your stake.”

“I had to. It was a d-debt of honour, you see. I let him cut one of my c-curls off, and—and he’s got it n-now.”

“Forgive me, my dear, but have you told me this because you wish me to get that curl back for you?” inquired his lordship.

“No, no!” Horatia replied impatiently. “You c-can’t get it back; I lost it in fair play. Something much, m-much worse happened then—though it w-wasn’t the worst of all. He—he caught hold of me, and took my m-mask off, and—kissed me! And Rule, the m-most dreadful thing! I f-forgot about my mask, and I ran away, and—and Lady Massey was just outside the w-window, and she saw me, and I know she had been w-watching all the time! So you see, I’ve m-made a vulgar scandal, and I thought the only thing I could do was to t-tell you at once, because even if you are furious with me, you ought to know, and I couldn’t b-bear anyone else to tell you!”

The Earl did not seem to be furious. He listened calmly to the whole of this hurried speech, and at them end of it walked forward across the space that separated the, and to Horatia’s astonishment took her hand in his and raised it to his lips.“My compliments, Horry,” he said. “You have surprised me.”

He released her hand, and went towards the desk that stood in the window. Taking a key from his pocket he unlocked one of the drawers and pulled it open. Horatia blinked at him, utterly at a loss. He came back to her, and held out his hand. In the palm of it lay a powdered curl.

Horatia gave a gasp, staring at it. Then she looked up, quite dumbfounded. “M-mine?” she stammered.

“Yours, my dear.”

“But I—but—How did you c-come by it?”

He gave a little laugh. “I won it.”

“Won it?” she repeated, uncomprehending. “How c-could you? Who—Rule, whom did you win it from?”

“Why, from you, Horry. Whom else could I have won it from?”

She clutched his wrist. “Rule, it—it was not you?” she squeaked.

“But of course it was, Horry. Did you think I would let you lose to Lethbridge?”

“Oh!” cried Horatia on a sob. “Oh, I am so th-thankful!” She let go of his wrist. “But I d-don’t understand. How did you know? Where were you?”

“In the next box to yours.”

“The m-man in the black d-domino? Then—then it was you who trod on my g-gown?”

“You see, I had to contrive that you should be out of the way for a few moments,” he apologized.

“Yes, of course,” nodded Horatia, quite appreciating this. “It was very c-clever of you, I think. And when I c-came back and thought your voice odd—that was you?”

“It was. I flatter myself I imitated Lethbridge’s manner rather well. I admit that the noise those fiddles made helped me.”

She was frowning again. “Yes, b-but I don’t understand quite. D-did Robert exchange d-dominoes with you?”

A laugh lurked in his eyes. “It was not precisely an exchange. I—er—took his, and hid my own under a chair.”

Horatia was regarding him keenly. “D-didn’t he mind?”

“Now I come to think of it,” said the Earl pensively, “I am afraid I forgot to ask him.”

She came a little nearer. “Marcus, did you m-make him give it to you?”

“No,” replied the Earl. “I—er—took it.”

“T-took it? But why did he let you?”

“He really had no choice in the matter,” said his lordship.

She drew a long breath. “You m-mean you took it by f-force? And didn’t he do anything? What became of him?”

“I imagine that he went home,” said the Earl calmly.

“W-went home! Well, I n-never heard of anything so poor-spirited!” exclaimed Horatia, with disgust.

“He could hardly do anything else,” said the Earl. “Perhaps I ought to explain that the gentleman had the—er—misfortune to fall into the lily-pond.”

Horatia’s lips parted. “Rule, d-did you push him in?” she asked breathlessly.

“You see I had to dispose of him somehow,” said his lordship. “He was really quite de trop, and the lily-pond so conveniently situated.”

Horatia gave up all attempt to preserve her gravity, and went off into a peal of laughter. “Oh, R-Rule, how famous! I w-wish I had seen it!” A thought occurred to her; she said quickly: “He w-won’t call you out, will he?”

“Alas, I fear there is no likelihood of that,” Rule replied. “You see, Horry, you are my wife—a circumstance that makes Lethbridge’s position a little awkward.”

She was not satisfied. “R-Rule, suppose he tries to do you a m-mischief?” she said anxiously.

“I hardly think he would succeed,” said Rule, unconcerned.

“W-well, I don’t know, but I wish you will take care, Marcus.”

“I promise you you need have no fear for me, my dear.”

She looked a trifle uncertain, but allowed the matter to drop. She said rather gruffly: “And perhaps you will tell Lady M-Massey that it was you all the time?”

His mouth hardened. “Lady Massey,” he said deliberately, “need not trouble you—in any way, Horry.”

She said with difficulty: “I think I would rather you told her, sir. She—she looked at me in a way that—in a way that—”

“It will not be necessary for me to tell Lady Massey anything,” said Rule. “She will not, I think, mention what happened last night.”

She glanced up at him, puzzled. “Did she know then that it was you?”

He smiled rather grimly. “She did indeed know it,” he replied.

“Oh!” Horatia digested this. “Were you going to t-tell me all this if I hadn’t t-told you?” she asked.

“To be frank with you, Horry, no: I was not,” Rule answered. “You will have to forgive my stupidity. I did not think that you would tell me.”

“W-well, I don’t think I should have told you if Lady M-Massey hadn’t seen me,” said Horatia candidly. “And I d-don’t suppose Robert would have explained it, because it m-makes him look quite ridiculous. And I w-wouldn’t have spoken to him again. Now I see, of course, that he did not behave so very b-badly after all, though I must say I d-don’t think he should have proposed that stake, do you?”

“Most certainly I do not.”

“No. Well, I won’t have him for a friend, Rule!” said Horatia handsomely. “You won’t m-mind if I am civil to him, will you?”

“Not at all,” Rule replied. “I am civil to him myself.”

“I d-don’t call it civil to push a person into a p-pond,” objected Horatia. She caught sight of the clock. “Oh, I said I would d-drive out with Louisa! Only look at the time!” She prepared to depart. “There is one thing that makes me very c-cross,” she said, frowning at him. “It was odious of you to l-let me win the second game!”

He laughed, and caught her hands, pulling her towards him. “Horry, shall we consign Louisa to the devil?” he suggested.

“N-no, I must go,” Horatia answered, suddenly shy. “B-besides, she hasn’t seen my landaulet!”

The landaulet, the possession of which was enough to set any lady in the forefront of fashion, was glitteringly bright and new, having only just come from the coach-maker. Lady Louisa duly admired it, pronounced it to be extremely comfortable, and was so obliging as to say that she had not in the least minded being kept waiting over half an hour. Since she had shopping to do in Bond Street the coachman was instructed to drive there first, and the two ladies leaned back against the cushions and embarked on a discussion concerning the proper kind of ribbons to wear with a ball dress of green Italian taffeta for which Lady Louisa had just purchased two ells of stuff. By the time the rival merits of ribbons a Vinstant, a Vattention, au soupir de Venus, and a great many others had been fully weighed, the carriage drew up outside a fashionable milliner’s, and the ladies went in to select a branch of artificial flowers which Lady Louisa hoped to make bearable a hat she had bought two days ago, and quite detested already.

It was naturally impossible for Horatia to visit a milliner without purchasing something on her own account, so when the flowers had been selected, she tried on a number of hats, and bought finally an enormous confection composed chiefly of stiff muslin in Trianon grey, which was labelled, not without reason, “Grandes Pretentions’. There was a collet monte gauze scarf in the same delectable shade of grey, so she bought that as well. A cap a la glaneuse caught her eye as she was about toJeave the shop, but she decided not to add that to her purchases, Lady Louisa having had the presence of mind to declare that it made her look rather prim.

Horatia was just a little nervous of her sister-in-law, whom she suspected of disapproving of her, but Lady Louisa was behaving quite delightfully, and had not suggested by so much as a look that she thought it extravagant of Horry to buy that hat. She had even said that it was ravishing, so when they stepped into the landaulet again Horatia was feeling more friendly towards Louisa than she ever remembered to have felt before.

This was precisely what Lady Louisa wanted. As the carriage moved forward she pointed her furled sunshade at the coachman’s back, and said: “My dear, how much does he hear of what one says?”

“Oh, n-nothing!” Horatia assured her. “He is very d-deaf, you know. D-didn’t you notice how I have to shout at him?”

“I fear it would take me an age to grow used to an open carriage,” sighed Lady Louisa. “But if he is really deaf—my dear, there was something I wanted to say to you. That is—no, I don’t want to say it at all, but I think I ought to, for I know Rule never would.”

Horatia’s smile faded. “Indeed?” she said.

“I detest people who interfere,” said her ladyship hastily, “but I do feel you have a right to know why you shouldn’t admit Lord Lethbridge to your friendship.”

“I am aware, L-Louisa,” said Horatia stiffly. “His r-reputa-tion—”

“It isn’t that, my love. Only he, and Rule, and I know, and Rule won’t tell you because he’d never give me away, bless him!”

Horatia turned, round-eyed. “G-give you away, Louisa?” Lady Louisa sank her voice to a confidential murmur, and started bravely to tell her sister-in-law just what had happened in a mad spring-tide seven years ago.