Page 59 of The Devil to Pay

A prickling quietness filled the room.

“I was a damned fool.”

The words were hoarse and barely audible, but heartfelt, and Selina regarded the man who was staring down into the fire with an expression that made her heart turn over.

“Yes, you were,” Lady Haversham said in trembling accents.

“Everyone mocked me for being so in love with you,” he said, avoiding their gazes. “They said I needed to put you in your place before I was living under the cat’s paw. I didn’t want to go out, Maisie. I wanted to stay with you, but all my friends kept on and on, taunting me and… Christ, what an imbecile I was. I had something lovely and precious, and I threw it away for the respect of men I don’t even like above half. I wish I could go back. I wish I could change everything, but I cannot.”

“Oh, Ronald, you fool” Lady Haversham whispered, tears streaming down her face. “And n-now it’s too late.”

There was a taut silence from Ronald, who looked utterly wretched as the lady buried her face in her handkerchief and wept.

“Nonsense.”

Selina’s impatient voice cut through the hysterical wailing and both parties looked up in surprise, staring at her.

“It seems to me you’ve both acted foolishly indeed. I feel wretchedly sorry for you both, but I cannot help but point out that you brought it on yourselves. I have half a mind to tell you both to go to the devil if I’m honest. If I thought you would do so without involving Blackstone or myself, I might let you do it too,” Selina said irritably. She took a breath and let it out slowly, her dismay at being involved in this dreadful scene mitigated by their obvious misery. With a softer tone, she added, “However, I cannot help but observe that you are both utterly miserable.”

“Utterly,” Haversham said with feeling, casting his beautiful wife a look of such regret, Selina almost felt a grain of sympathy for him. Almost.

“Yes,” said Lady Haversham simply, her pretty nose red now. “I was so happy the day we married. I thought we would always be so. That we would live together in blissful harmony, and nothing would ever disturb our little idyll.”

Selina fought her instinct to return a cutting remark over this treacly sentiment, which bore no relation to real life whatsoever. If the lady had truly believed that, she was a first-class ninny.

“Well, then. I should say it is about time you both stopped behaving like you’re acting out a bad melodrama and reconciled your differences.”

“But Ronald is taking us to court,” Lady Haversham wailed.

“Then Ronald is a bigger fool than I credited him with being. Is that truly what you want?” she demanded of Lord Haversham in frustration. “To shame yourself and your wife in public, to end any chance of ever having the marriage you presumably both wanted not so long ago? Good heavens! Where is your spirit, man? You still love her, fight for her, don’t throw her away because your pride has been dented. You created the situation, you mend it.”

“If I thought… If I believed for a moment that there was a chance for me,” Lord Haversham said desperately.

“A chance for you?” Lady Haversham screeched in outrage! “A chance for you? How many chances did I offer only to have them thrown back in my face?”

“I know, my darling, but now you are in love with Blackstone!” he raged furiously. “I cannot compete with that.”

Lady Haversham pulled a face at her husband, looking remarkably indignant. “No, I’m not!”

Lord Haversham stared at her. “N-Not?” he whispered.

“Oh, Ronald,” she said with a sigh. “Of course not. I thought you knew.”

Lord Haversham looked like he’d been hit in the head with a cricket bat. “But he’s a marquess, and handsome, and younger than me, and—”

Maisie rolled her eyes. “Yes, but he talks about books and such dull things, Ronnie, darling. He doesn’t make me laugh like you do and… and oh, I missed you so.”

“Oh, Maisie.”

“Oh… Ronald.”

Chapter 19

Dearest Aunt Sally,

I’m so sorry this letter is late again. I just don’t know what happens to the days and then when I sat down to write yesterday, I managed to knock the ink over. I’m not sure how. I could swear I did not touch it nor jog the desk, but over it went and ruined five sheets of paper. Papa was very cross. Our housekeeper, Mrs Everly, was none too pleased either as a few drops splattered the carpet. So, I have been in disgrace.

I wish I was back with you. I think of you often and wonder what you are doing. It is comforting to me to know that at Inglenook Cottage all is going on just as it did before I came to stay with you, the same as while I was there, and shall always be the same. Here everything changes, moment to moment, and I find it dizzying. There are too many people and too much noise and the more people and the noisier it gets, the more likely I shall do something foolish and make everyone stare.