Page 45

And with that, he stood up, so tall next to Sybella and James she found herself tilting her head to meet his eyes. He bent to shake her son’s hand and, taking her own, brushed her fingers with his lips. He hardly glanced at her, but she sensed an energetic force in the room. Pulling on his gloves, he opened the drawing room door for her and together they descended the staircase to the hall where he collected his coat from Samson. This usually unimpressed old retainer was beginning to approve of Mr Brabazon’s elegance and correctness of bearing, so different from the young lords who treated the house like their own. He swung back the great front door with aplomb. Mr Brabazon raised his hand in farewell and descended the stone steps to the street, before turning left towards Grosvenor Square.

At that moment, Lady Godley called down to Sybella from the first-floor landing, ‘Ma chérie, can you spare me a moment?’ Sybella scooped James up under her arm and walked up the stairs with her son giggling at her hip. Lady Godley was on the sofa where Mr Brabazon had just been seated, looking rather pleased with herself. ‘Do close the door, dearest. And come and sit beside me.’ She patted the sofa. ‘Lucie’s just told me her tremendous news. I want to know what you think.’

Sybella hesitated and sighed. ‘It’s complicated. I like Lord Ravenell a great deal. And on the surface of it, it would be an excellent match, more than we could ever have hoped for. The Ravenell wealth, the title and eventually his father’s dukedom all are welcome.’

‘My dear! He’s the absolute prize of the Season. It is rare for the son of a duke to be on offer and here is one who has attached himself to our dearest Lucie. How can there be a “but” on the tip of your tongue, tu as des doutes?’

‘I wish I could embrace it wholeheartedly, Augusta. But I want Lucie to be loved as a woman and not just a sister.’

‘Tush, Bella! Why is that not possible? They are both beautiful, they both like each other. You put a young man and a young woman together and allez hop! Que la nature suive son cours. It is nature’s way.’

‘Not exactly, I fear.’ Sybella shifted uneasily. She could not spell out to Lady Godley something that even she, a woman of the world, would consider so aberrant and shocking. She felt protective of Lord Ravenell and of Lucie too, and alarmed by the danger of the situation in which just this morning they been embroiled. She decided discretion was essential. ‘All I want is for Lucie to be happy,’ Sybella added lamely.

‘Pardieu! Bella, everyone wants Lucie to be happy, but when great wealth, thousands of acres of prime land, and a dukedom are all attached to a highly personable young man like Lord Ravenell, what doubts can you have? Love follows where riches lead.’

Sybella laughed without mirth. ‘You are a cynical woman, Augusta!’

‘I am a realistic one, my dear. When you’ve lived in the world as long as I have, it is the only way. But come! Let’s not be gloomy. Lucie seemed very happy when she told me of her betrothal. Let’s smile with her and not demur. Mlle de Scudéry, whom I grew up reading secretly at night, wrote something that has consoled me all my life, L’amour est un je-ne-sais-quoi, qui vient je-ne-sais-où, et qui finit je-ne-sais-quand. So we must enjoy whatever love we’re offered, while we can.’

Lady Godley’s words reminded Sybella again of the melancholy she felt at just how fleeting love could prove to be. As Mlle Scudéry had declared, we know not what love is, from whence it comes or when it might go. She wished she could relinquish the burden of Lucie’s happiness. ‘Augusta, I’m so tired of being the sensible one, Lucie’s pretend parent. Responsibility for her happiness weighs on me so.’

‘Then lay it down. You can’t ensure her happiness. You can only live your own life, my dear. And love her and those others who need your love.’

‘I have known such happiness but for so short a time. Is it possible to love again, when love has been snatched away and what is left is overwhelming memory?’

‘What’s brought this doubt, dear Bella?’

‘I don’t know. I thought I was content, but something has been awakened in me. I can barely think it, but I can’t go back to my life quite as it was. But then neither can I strike out anew and betray my beloved Captain. It’s unresolved and troubles me greatly.’

‘I understand. You’re like Scipio. You are tired of constraint and want to break free? But freedom is alarming, isn’t it? When caged beasts are set free, they’re at first afraid of the sky.’

‘Perhaps that’s all it is. I’ve grown accustomed to my smaller world.’ Sybella thought of her great-hearted horse stamping and snorting in his stable. He had not given up his longing for liberty and she felt an answering sympathy: she too dreamed of kicking over the traces to run unfettered. But this conflict in her between sense and sensibility brought a feeling of vulnerability and confusion in its wake. She was exhausted. And tomorrow she was riding Scipio to Richmond Park accompanied by Gem and Mr Brabazon.

Playing her violin never failed to calm and restore her, but before Sybella could retire to her room to practise quietly, Lucie, accompanied by Alice, dashed in from the street, full of excitement. The words tumbled from her lips. ‘Oh, Bella, we’ve just been to Bond Street to replace my oyster-pink gloves, you know, the ones that go with my gauze evening dress, and we came across Freddie, who had been sparring in Gentleman Jackson’s rooms at No. 13. He said everyone was there, not Val, of course, he doesn’t box, but Lord Byron with a friend, and Mr Brabazon, even Lord Rockliffe!’

‘My goodness, Lucie.’ She laughed. ‘Don’t let your dear godmother hear you. She’d think you very unladylike.’

‘I know. But then I am unladylike because I discuss most things with Freddie and Val. When I quizzed Freddie about why he liked boxing so much, he said it was the perfect sport to keep gentlemen fit. I told him I thought sporting black eyes and bruised fists was not very attractive in polite society, but he asked me to inspect his face and knuckles, which again I’m sure was very improper. Still, once I’m married, then I don’t have to be such a prig!’

Sybella did not answer. Lucie continued breathlessly, ‘It’s true, Bella. You told me so! Oh, and Val has posted the notice of our betrothal in the London Gazette. He said we’ll set the whole Town talking.’ She looked excited and not a little overcome. ‘And his father wants to come and see us in an hour. Does that suit you, too?’

‘Of course, dearest Lucie. I shall be delighted to receive him. Is Valentine coming too?’ Sybella rallied her lowering spirits, straightened her shoulders, and smiled.

‘Yes, he says his papa is threatening to jump over the moon for joy. It’s so gratifying to make people you like happy, isn’t it, Bella?’ Her glowing face turned towards her elder sister with a brilliance in her eyes she had not seen before.

‘Dearest, it is indeed. But it’s only wonderful if it also makes you happy.’ Sybella was sorry to feel she was a damper on Lucie’s high spirits as she noticed that bright face cloud over with the effect of her words.

She hardly had time to change her clothes, tidy her hair and ask Nurse to dress James in his best blue velvet suit before Samson was opening the door to the Duke of Ely and his son. This handsome old grandee was dressed for a special occasion in an elaborately embroidered garnet-red silk coat over oyster satin knee breeches. His lean patrician face was smiling. He would have quite outshone his son, dressed as this young beau was in his immaculate dark wool coat, tailored, no doubt, by the Great Weston, if it hadn’t been for the striking beauty of Lord Ravenell’s face, still pale but quite restored in humour, his deep blue eyes sparkling with life.

Samson approved of this grand old nobleman and liked his taste in clothes. Those were the days! A time when men rivalled women in their much-embellished dress, their jewels, their powder, patches and paint. Today’s young dandies’ liking for intentionally windswept hair à la poète distrait and a lounging demeanour was rather shocking to a toplofty butler who had served the nobility through the heyday of Georgian high society.

Lady Godley was delighted to welcome father and son to the drawing room, where champagne was waiting. They were about to celebrate the match of the Season and she was proud of her role in her goddaughter’s elevation.

Having affectionately greeted his hostess, the Duke strode over to Sybella and took her outstretched hands. ‘My dear Mrs Lovatt, I am so delighted our families are to be united at last. As you know, I had the greatest regard for your late mama and have even greater regard for both of her beautiful, resourceful daughters.’ His eyes looked intently into hers as he drew her to the sofa between the two great windows. ‘Valentine told me everything, painful as it was to us both. It is what I had feared most, I think you know. I have told Lucie I will always be in her debt for her courage and enterprise in the matter.’ He bowed his head.

Sybella leant across to take his hand. ‘I know. She and Freddie were very scared, not knowing what best to do. They were determined to rescue Valentine and did not involve anyone else. I knew nothing of it until later. Like you, I am proud of their enterprise and spirit.’

‘I gather Anthony Brabazon provided the resources that oiled the wheels, not that he knew so at the time.’ The Duke smiled. He continued in a more ruminative vein, ‘He told Freddie he did not want any repayment. I will, of course, repay him anyway. He has hidden depths beneath that reserved shell. A good man in a crisis, as cool as ice.’ Sybella caught his eye looking at her speculatively.