‘Miss Ashling. Mmm, well I daresay he will not be the only one to wish you uncharitable thoughts in the near future.’
‘What do you mean?’ Sir Lucius frowned, bemused.
‘Miss Ashling and yourself, Lucius. Can’t say I didn’tfancy a tilt in that direction myself, but she is a difficult girl to get close to, and it all seemed a bit like hard work in the end. But I wish you well, truly I do.’
‘But there is no understanding between Miss Ashling and myself.’
Lord Bensthorpe blinked. ‘As of this moment, perhaps177not, but I mean, if you have got as far as the purchase of a ring, then—’
‘A ring? What on earth are you talking about, Bensthorpe?Burgundy or claret, was it, last night?’
‘No, no, my dear fellow, not bosky at all. Couldn’t have been. Heard it from my mother, and I wouldn’t be sitting there with her if I was on the go, now would I? Besides, this has been common knowledge for days. Everyone knows you are about to make the Unassailable an offer. In fact, some fellows were wondering why you were delaying, afraid to put it to the touch, perhaps. She can be quite daunting, the Unassailable.’
Sir Lucius’s expression was one of horror. ‘But this is ridiculous. My mother asked me to take a family piece to be cleaned, after which I made an insignificant purchase, certainly not a ring, and even if I had, what cause would there be to assume I was going to propose to Miss Ashling?’
‘No idea how the ring came up, but you know, everyone has noted how you have become a bit like a guard dogabout the Unassaila—’
‘For Heaven’s sake, stop calling Miss Ashling that, Bensthorpe. She is not a bastion.’
‘Well, no doubt poor Escott, who is clearly dicked in the nob, as poets so often are, believed every word, saw what he thought was true, and was overwrought. Old Farncombe is going to have to take him in hand, or he’ll be clapped up in Bedlam. You can’t have fellows dashing about Town threatening violence like that. Dear me, no.’
Sir Lucius was by now only half attending. He was thinking, and the results of his cogitations were not pleasant.178The rumour had sprung from a half truth, so someone had seen him with Mr Rundell. Lady Rendlesham’s arrival came to mind. Yes, she was the sort of woman who would enjoy mischief, and he had little doubt she knew the truth to be different. She was also reputed to be Easby’s most recent flirt. Why she should advance Easby’s cause by putting a spoke, as she would see it, in his own wheel …
‘Oh my God, that was why she was like that in the park.’
It was Lord Bensthorpe’s turn to look perplexed. ‘Who,my dear fellow?’
Sir Lucius merely shook his head, his brows drawn together in a frown. ‘Try and keep what passed here to yourself, Bensthorpe, for the sake of old Farncombe, and also the lady.’
179
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Declining Lord Bensthorpe’s repeated invitation to the Board of Patrons of St George’s Hospital, Sir Lucius continued home, a frown of concentration upon his brow. In view of the circulating rumour, he was surprised that Miss Ashling had been civil to him at all in the park, and the very fact that, at times, she had been on more comfortable terms, yes, friendly terms, gave him reason to hope that shewas not impervious to him.
However, the current problem was their next meeting. He had to persuade her, by being perfectly friendly but un-lover-like, that he had no thought of making her an offer, even though that thought, which would have seemed ridiculous even a fortnight since, now loomed large in his mind. The more he saw of Elizabeth Ashling, even when she held him off as now, the more he knew no other woman would do. He found her beautiful, yet it was not her beauty that enthralled him. There was simply some magical ‘something’ within her that called to his soul. He180laughed mirthlessly at himself. That sounded far too like Escott. However, the closer he got to the lady, the more she was likely to shy away like a nervous thoroughbred. Well, rattling a bucket of oats would not bring this filly close enough to halter. He coloured at having made such an analogy, but, since he knew far more about thoroughbreds than women, perhaps it was natural.
Lord Easby, by contrast, knew an awful lot about women and far less about horses, but the gossip that reached him, which declared confidently that Radstock was about to put things to the touch, gave him cause to think. He had dismissed Sir Lucius Radstock as a rival, largely because of his inexperience with the weaker sex, and to Easby they were weaker. What he had failed to consider was that the simplicity of his approach might find favour with a woman such as the Unassailable. He himself had been tangential, hunting without fear of alerting his prey, while Radstock had blundered in so boldly that perhaps she had not realised anyone that obvious could be serious, until he had got so close that his rather mundane honesty slipped past her guard.
She was an unusual female, and in truth, he could not judge whether Sir Lucius’s offer might be accepted. He thought not, and if so Radstock would have no further chance with her, but she was so unpredictable there was always a chance she might, out of sheer perversity, say yes. It was a risk, but Lord Easby decided, logically, that it was one he could do little about, unless he could engineer time alone with Miss Ashling before the declaration was181made. Frustratingly, she had cried off his last invitation to go driving, and been absent from several parties where he might have hoped to encounter her. He would therefore have to work on the assumption that Radstock would be rebuffed, either by her alone, or with the benefit of his ‘encouragement’. He would have to become a little less subtle, and start to hint at more than friendship, or the prize might slip through his fingers.
Miss Ashling proved elusive to both gentlemen for the next few days, but it might be said that Sir Lucius had the advantage, because he knew the day of her birthday, and because it was he, rather than Lord Easby, who frequently interrupted her thoughts.
Lady Chalford was not of an age when birthdays were celebrated except very privately. She had come to find the day depressing, although her husband never failed to remind her, very cheerfully, that she should be rejoicing at living another whole year. He did, however, sweeten this by remarking how beautiful she still looked to him, and presenting her with some expensive trinket.
This year she had had so much to keep her mind busy that she had almost forgotten the anniversary altogether. She had every hope that Amelia would end the Season betrothed, and to a man whose position would mean comfort and social elevation. Amelia shared the aspiration, but with an entirely different gentleman in mind. Blinkering herself when it came to Lord Carbrooke, whom she dismissed as a ‘mere boy’, he being no more182than twenty-five, Lady Chalford had once cherished hopes of Lord Nuneaton. These had been quite dashed when he had overstepped the mark, and he had withdrawn from the lists. However, unbeknown to Elizabeth, he had approached Lady Chalford but three days previously at an evening party, and been abject in his apologies, and, he said, was desperate to make restitution. He had, he claimed, been so smitten with Miss Ashling that he had not known how to make himself agreeable to her, and having not sought out a young lady in many years, went about it in entirely the wrong manner. He sounded so desirous of absolution that her ladyship had relented, and granted that he might again ask her daughter for dances. If he was prepared to grovel, and Lady Chalford felt this was so, he must be very keen. Hope was rekindled in her maternal breast.
With regard to Elizabeth, she had initially despaired of her niece’s disinclination to put herself out in any way to be appealing, and then been surprised by that damsel’s popularity. Most of the gentlemen who were inclined to court her were, in Lady Chalford’s opinion, unworthy, but there were a handful she would not think a bad match. When her daughter had nonchalantly mentioned how Sir Lucius Radstock seemed so frequently in her vicinity, she had at first dismissed the idea as girlish over-optimism, but she had paid more attention. He did not act like an aspiring lover, but then, perhaps it was the aspiring lover in men that put Elizabeth on the defensive. When Amelia reported the rumour of Sir Lucius’s impending proposal, she quite rightly chastised her for listening to gossip, but hastily sent an invitation to him for the party that they were holding in183Mount Street to celebrate Elizabeth’s coming of age. What better occasion for him to request the pleasure of a private interview at Elizabeth’s earliest convenience.
Elizabeth herself was unaware of these machinations. She felt oddly out of sorts, and flitted about the house unable to sit still long enough to set more than a few stitches, or turn a few pages of a book and thereafter have no idea what she had just read. She told herself that it was the sultry weather, that it was being cooped up indoors, which was Sir Lucius’s fault, since she was having to avoid him – any reason except the truth. That truth was so disturbing to her mind as to be banished to a dark recess, from which it clamoured to escape. Giving in to it, admitting just how much keeping herself away from him cost her, how easy it would be to let herself be carried away with the idea of placing her future in his hands, was against everything she had learnt in the past decade. Her heart ached to trust him; her head cried ‘No surrender’.
She tried to set aside her confusion and look to her cousin’saffaire de coeur. Amelia was exhibiting every sign of, at the very least, infatuation. Excepting in the presence of her mama, she spoke frequently of Lord Carbrooke, and Elizabeth noted that ‘Lord Carbrooke says’ was now more frequently used than ‘Mama says’. Part of her wanted to warn her of the dangers of giving her tender heart into another’s keeping, but the girl was so innocently happy that Elizabeth could not bring herself to disabuse her of her happy ignorance. She was very fond of Amelia, and wished her nothing but joy. From what she could tell of the young Viscount, he was perfectly genuine in his affection184and clearly held Amelia in the highest esteem.
The morning of her birthday dawned to rain, which Ditcham berated as she drew the curtains as if it had fallen just to disrupt her mistress’s day. Elizabeth was unconcerned by it, but laughed.
‘My birthday will be much the same whether the clouds are grey or not, Ditcham.’
‘That’s as may be, Miss Elizabeth, but I know as how you like your ride, and it would be nice if you could get out this morning, having kept indoors a few days.’
