Letters to a Lady (17 page)

“I never wanted to lord it over anyone. Only to be allowed to hang on the fringes and watch the great at work and play. I begin to feel even that is overestimated.”

Harrup was out that evening. He didn’t dine at home or tell Diana where he was going, but she learned from Mrs. Dunaway that some of his colleagues were having a party at one of the clubs to celebrate his promotion, which meant that Lady Selena would not be with him. Perhaps the young lady would spend her free time memorizing her list. Diana felt sorry for the girl and for Ronald, but mostly she was angry with Harrup.

He had promised he would ingratiate Selena. She felt he could do it, too, if only he would put himself to the bother. Why did he not? It looked as though he meant to continue his libertine ways after marriage and didn’t want a wife who clung too closely to him. Perhaps he had even hired Ronald to give Selena a convenient young cicisebeo, someone to amuse her while he amused himself with the muslin company?

This interpretation explained a series of otherwise inexplicable decisions on Harrup’s part—hiring Ronald, encouraging proximity between him and Selena, and doing nothing to make his future bride like him. It was a disgusting, cynical way to behave, especially with such innocents as Selena and Ron, but no other explanation could she find.

Diana had some intention of accosting him when he came in and taking him to task, but his party lasted very late. She was sound asleep when Harrup returned, slightly bosky, and looked hopefully into his office to see if she was there.

Chapter Nine

After his late night, Harrup did not reach the breakfast table till nine the next morning. Diana was already in hand with the rout arrangements. It was in the ballroom that he found her later, overseeing the placement of some bentwood chairs to hold the dowagers while the younger members of the party danced. Purple smudges shadowed the area beneath Harrup’s eyes. The eyes themselves showed signs of ravage from his late-night revels. With these traces of dissipation on him, Diana found it easy to believe him capable of her worst imaginings.

She regarded him with distaste. “Good morning, Harrup. No need to ask if you slept well. You look like a roué.”

Harrup sensed that he was in poor aroma and answered carefully. “It’s not every evening a man celebrates a major triumph. I confess, the wine flowed freely. Did anything interesting happen here?”

She glared at him mutinously. “Nothing that would interest you,” she said curtly.

“What happens under my roof always interests me. I sense this discussion requires privacy,” he added, when a few servants began listening in. “Shall we go to my office?”

Diana was undecided whether to oblige him or not, but her anger was choking her, and she went. Harrup carefully closed the door before turning to her. “Let’s hear it,” he said. “Your eyes aren’t burning like flame for no reason. What has my new assistant been up to?”

“Your assistant, unfortunately, hasn’t the backbone to rake your hair with a stool as he ought to. I, being Ronald’s elder sister, shall undertake to do it for him. I am not at all happy with the situation you’ve created here, Harrup, and I don’t mean to return home without rectifying it.”

“Situation?” he asked, blinking.

She stared scornfully at his face, which was pale from drinking and from his late night. “The situation of your making Ronald your assistant, whose major chore appears to be entertaining your bride-to-be. I have warned you before of the attachment between them. Unlike Peabody, I don’t believe it was any desire to oblige old neighbors that led you to honor Ronald. I thought at first it was only mischief, but I begin to see a more sinister plan.”

“Indeed? Perhaps you would care to enlighten me as to the nature of this sinister design?” he asked stiffly.

“I cannot think it necessary, but I will tell you what I think, because if I don’t tell someone, I shall scream. I think you hired Ronald to provide a convenient escort for your bride, thus leaving you free to continue your wanton ways with such females as Mrs. Whitby. If that is how you intend to proceed as a married man, I must insist you choose another dupe than my innocent young brother. How your conscious can allow you to play off such a stunt on Selena passes my comprehension, but then, I have not had the advantage of a career in the asylum of politics, where apparently anything goes. Fifteen years now you’ve been on the town. I should think that would be enough to give even you your fill of debauchery.”

Harrup listened in rigid silence. She expected every moment that he would attack. He looked tense, ready to spring at her throat, but he said nothing till she had finished.

“Thank you for that edifying reading of my character,” he said coldly. “I am sorry to have caused you concern. You will be pleased to know that even I, steeped in lechery as I am, do not enter into marriage with any intention of offering my bride’s favors to the first pup who comes sniffing around. Fifteen years of dissipation has indeed proven sufficient for me. Like most ladies, you overrate the attraction of your sex. My career is more important to me now, and after the Whitby affair, I see the two do not mix.”

“Then why do you not forbid Ronald to dangle after Selena?” she demanded.

“Forbidden fruit is always sweeter. My long experience in ruining women has taught me that much at least. Let ‘em have their fill of rolling their eyes at each other. It won’t go further than that, I promise you.”

Diana listened but was still not satisfied. “You’re doing everything in your power to turn Selena against you. Writing her that list, and telling her she must suddenly be an accomplished political hostess, when she doesn’t even know the prime minister’s name.”

“High time she learned,” he snapped. “My wife will have strenuous social duties. If Lady Selena is incapable of fulfilling them, then the time to learn it is before the wedding, not after.”

“No, Harrup, the time to learn was before the betrothal. The fact of the matter is, you snatched at Groden’s offer because Selena is pretty, wellborn, and well dowered, and you thought you’d have a better chance at the coveted promotion if you had a wife. That she is a peagoose who holds you in the greatest aversion didn’t matter a groat. Now that you realize the inconvenience of a child bride, you have decided to turn her into something she is not and never will be. I wish you luck of your bargain, but pray leave Ronald out of it.”

Harrup narrowed his eyes in a frown. “Are you asking me to dismiss him?”

“No! Change the nature of his duties. Even a greenhead like Ronald can be pushed too far. Put him behind a desk and give him some real work to do, instead of encouraging him to taggle at her apron strings. You shouldn’t have sent him here yesterday when you knew Selena would be here. You owe me that much,” she added, and held his eyes with an imperious blaze from her own.

“Perhaps you’re right,” he admitted mildly.

“You know I’m right. Will you do it, Harrup? Will you promise to keep him busy and out of mischief with Selena? It is to your own advantage to do it. Don’t expect him to share your sophisticated mores regarding women. He won’t try to seduce her behind your back, you know. He’ll convince her to divorce you, and you may imagine what that would do to your career.”

“I notice you couch your urgings in a manner to appeal to my self-interest. That is hardly flattering, Diana.”

“I do you the honor of saying precisely what is in my mind, milord.”

“No, madam, you try to manipulate me. What you actually fear is that Ronald will make a flaming jackass of himself and be booted out on his ear. You don’t give a tinker’s curse about my career or my reputation.”

“Didn’t I rescue your letters from Markwell?” she reminded him.

“Did you not do it to have a club to hold over my head so I’d be obliged to find your brother a job?”

“That was only part of the reason. I also disliked to see disgrace come into our parish, and to see your mother suffer.”

“Your benevolence extends to everyone except myself, in fact.”

“You didn’t need my benevolence. You’ve been cock of the walk for so long, you don’t need anyone. If Whitby becomes a problem, you’ll pour money into her purse. Slice a libertine where you will, he’s a libertine all the way through. You’ll buy whatever you need or want. Too much money and too much consequence—I expect that’s what has made you the way you are,” she added, with a derisive sneer.

“Kind of you to find an excuse for the inexcusable. Is there anything else you wish to say to me? If not, this walking pattern of sin and corruption has some duties to attend to.”

She made a mock curtsy. “I would not wish to detain the nation’s chief law officer. By all means, you must write up some taboos for the mere mortals of the land. We must be careful to do as you decree and not as you do.”

Harrup observed her for a moment before leaving. The lines etched from nose to lips gave him a satirical appearance that was not lessened by the glint in his eyes. “Did you always hate me,” he asked, “or is it only familiarity that has bred this contempt?”

“To tell the truth, I scarcely thought about you at all. It wasn’t till I had an opportunity to see you at close range that I realized your deficiencies.”

A flush suffused his lean cheeks. “It would be ungentlemanly for me to say that cuts two ways. And incidentally, Miss Beecham, you might be interested to know I spoke to Ronald yesterday afternoon about his outing with Lady Selena. I warned him away from too much familiarity—I told him some people would be small-minded enough to discern harm in it. Ronald agreed with me that we would not wish to cast any aspersions on the future Lady Harrup. He is busy at his desk this morning and will spend the day there.”

Although Diana was relieved to hear it, she  resented that Harrup hadn’t told her before she flew into her unnecessary rage. “You might have told me before—”

“Before you made a gudgeon of yourself?” he asked, smiling through thin lips. “If I had interrupted your tirade, I would never have learned what you really think of me. He bowed ceremoniously and strode toward the door.

“Harrup, wait!”

He turned slowly and looked at her. Was it possible that glint in his eyes was amusement? If so, it ran his anger a close race. “I—I’m sorry,” she said brusquely. “I misunderstood. I didn’t mean to plunge myself into your affairs.”

He hunched his shoulders. “Plunge away. You weren’t totally wrong in your assessment of my character. You merely forgot that I have a brain, too. When a man reaches my age, he begins to take an accounting of his past life. I was not quite so harsh on myself as you were, but our conclusions ran in the same groove. Where we diverge is in your believing me beyond redemption. Friends?” he asked, lifting a brow.

She nodded reluctantly. “Friends,” she agreed.

But it was an uneasy parting. She felt she had said more than was necessary and lost Harrup’s goodwill into the bargain. Harrup went to get his coat, and Diana remained behind in his office, thinking, mostly regretting her outburst. She should have known Harrup wasn’t that bad. He wasn’t a fool, at least. Pride, if nothing else, would make him straighten Ronald out. To distract her mind from these worries, she thought of the party. Now what needed doing? She could oversee the setting of the tables.

She went into the hall just as the door knocker sounded. She feared it was Lady Selena, but with Ronald absent, the young lady would not remain long. Stoker opened the door and a lady’s genteel accent was heard. Diana recognized Mrs. Whitby’s voice and gasped audibly, her eyes flying to Harrup, who was putting on his coat.

Mrs. Whitby looked very beautiful in a violet pelisse with mink collar, on which rested a dainty bouquet of violets. An impressive bonnet composed of feathers and flowers sat on her raven head, and in her hands she carried a mink muff. Her bright blue eyes toured the hall, spotting Diana and roving on till they espied Harrup in the corner.

“Mrs. Whitby to see you, milord,” Stoker announced with a disapproving stare.

“Good morning, Charles,” the woman said, and walked in, her hips swinging insouciantly. “I expect you know why I am here.” With a mocking smile she added, “I have come to offer my congratulations on your appointment.”

“Good morning, Laura,” Harrup replied woodenly. “Nice to see you again.”

He smiled numbly and showed her to his office. Over his shoulder he looked a plea at Diana, beckoning to her with a toss of his head to follow them. She was surprised, but not at all loath to accept, and hastened after them.

Mrs. Whitby turned in surprise. “Miss Beecham, isn’t it?” she asked politely, as though this were a normal morning call.

“Yes,” Diana answered. Her voice sounded strangely high.

They all sat down. Harrup looked expectantly at his caller, who smoothed her skirt and glanced around at the office. “Very nice, Charles. I believe this is the first time I’ve been here.”

“And, I trust, the last,” he answered blandly. “Why have you waited so long, Laura?”

“I don’t believe you ever invited me to your home before.”

“I didn’t invite you today. I referred to your delay in coming to dun me.”

She smiled demurely. “Timing is so important, don’t you think? Two days ago a minister without portfolio called on me with a little pourboire of five hundred pounds to buy my silence. That bought two days, Charles. Today the attorney general will be more generous, I think. Rather like the stock market. Your stock has risen, dear boy. Now is the time to sell out.”

“Then you kept the letters?” Harrup asked.

“I could not bear to part with those special two,” she taunted. “You do remember the gist of them, Charles? Perhaps not. Truth to tell, I feared you were disguised when you penned them—such an uncharacteristic warmth from the discreet privy councillor. You have no idea how precious they had become to me. You must know after quizzing my woman how close the billets-doux are to my heart.” She smiled fondly.

Diana figured this farce has gone on long enough and looked a question at Harrup. “She has them on her. This is our chance,” she said.

Mrs. Whitby laughed benignly. “She is precious, Charles. Wherever did you find this original? One of your milkmaids,
peut-être
?”