Page 45 of The Devil to Pay

There was a taut silence during which Selina stared out unseeingly across the ballroom. Though she had made up her threat to Hubert, the possibility of doing as she’d told him seemed increasingly likely.

“Davenport.” His voice was soft, but somehow made her flinch. “I’m sorry you had to find out that way. I was going to explain everything to you tonight.”

She nodded, feeling somewhat numb. “Yes, my lord, you did say you would.”

“Please, don’t start ‘my lording’ me,” he said, an edge to his voice. “You may call me Jules in private, or Blackstone in public.”

“Not Mark, then… oh, the Marquess of Blackstone,” she said with a little laugh. “That’s quite funny.”

“Briggs’ idea of a joke,” he said, watching her. She could feel his gaze upon her like a weight but could not quite bring herself to meet his eyes.

“So, you are heir to the Bedwin dukedom. That makes you the biggest prize on the marriage mart, surely? I imagine your parents have a list of suitable young ladies as long as their arms. Though it could run for a mile and a half, and my name would still not be there. If you would excuse me—”

“No! Dash it, I won’t let you run out on me. My parents haven’t got a list,” he retorted, adding judiciously. “At least, I don’t think they have, but either way, they aren’t the usual aristocrats wanting a marriage of fortune and property. They want me to marry someone of my choosing.”

“That does not mean they will approve if you marry beneath yourself. I beg your pardon, here comes Hubert.”

Selina thought she had never been so pleased to see her brother in all her days. Abigail, having taken an age to carry out her mission, arrived at the same moment.

“Here’s your lemonade,” she said to Selina, holding out a glass to her before noting their sibling. “Oh, Hubert, you came!”

It made Selina’s heart hurt to see the way Abigail’s eyes lit up at the sight of her big brother. Her sister did not know how her brother and father squandered their funds on pleasure seeking rather than taking care of them, for Selina had shielded her from the truth of it. And though Abigail might reproach Hubert for visiting so seldom, she was still young enough to be in awe of the big brother who made her laugh and brought her trinkets and sweetmeats. She did not know that the ridiculous get up he was rigged out in would have cost a fortune, probably more than enough to repair their leaking roof. Not that the idea of paying for the roof instead would cross their darling brother’s mind for even a second.

“Yes, and now we’re going, pet,” Hubert said with a sigh. “Your sister is as green as pea soup. Did you eat some bad chicken, Lina? I did that once. Lord, never been so sick in all my days.”

“No,” Selina said, holding onto her patience by a thread.

“Oh, Selina, don’t say it!” Abigail said in dismay.

Selina regarded her beautiful little sister, her eyes wide with disappointment, and knew she could not spoil this for her. Poor Abigail had been looking forward to tonight for weeks and to make her leave so early would be cruel.

“No dear. Hubert will see me to my carriage. I’m quite capable of travelling home alone and he will stay to chaperone you. I’ll send the carriage directly back so it will be here in time to pick you up.”

Abigail heaved a sigh, as though some dreadful disaster had been narrowly averted. Selina smiled despite herself.

“Is the carriage ready, then?” she asked Hubert, who nodded.

“Waiting outside, so come along before you make a spectacle of yourself and flash the hash.”

Selina tolerated the indelicate cant comment with as much grace as she could manage, before kissing Abigail’s cheek and wishing her a lovely evening.

“It won’t be the same without you, though,” Abigail said wistfully, and with such sincerity Selina was touched. Perhaps they did not all think her such a harridan after all.

Then she turned to Mark—no, to Blackstone. “Good evening, Lord Blackstone, I hope you have a pleasant journey back to London.”

Then, with what she thought was remarkable composure bearing in mind she wanted to weep with disappointment, she walked away.

Chapter 16

Jules,

If you think I’m going to find you roses so you can strew their petals over your latest light o’love’s boudoir at this time of year, you’ve lost your mind.

However, supposing there is a slim possibility this was a sensible question, I know a fair bit. If you are serious, I would need to know the soil, and situation they would be planted in – is it in full sun, sheltered, etc. Climbing or shrub roses? What colours are you thinking of and is there a design to follow?

What are you up to?

―Excerpt of a letter to The Most Hon’ble Jules Adolphus, Marquess of Blackstone from Mr Hartley De Beauvoir (adopted son of Inigo and Minerva De Beauvoir).