Nicola Cornick (11 page)

It was Caroline who spoke, but James could have said much the same about her. Caroline Kilgaren might now be a society matron, the proud mother of two delightful offspring, but her diminutive figure had not
altered and the only difference he could see in her piquant face was a becoming gravity. He was willing to lay bets, however, that this solemnity would soon be banished by the same irrepressible high spirits that had led her, as Caroline Oxley, to be one of the toasts of her generation.

Marcus Kilgaren was waiting quietly to greet him, his casual calmness as much of a foil for his wife as ever. It had always been Marcus who had counselled against the wilder escapades of their group of friends and who had soothed the ruffled feelings of disapproving dowagers with his charm and apparent good sense. The same spark of humour still burned in those shrewd blue eyes as he shook James’s hand.

‘My apologies for not being here to greet you,’ James said as he handed his sodden coat to a hovering footman with a word of thanks. ‘I spent far longer out on the estate than I had intended. It was all very interesting—’ He broke off as a small, wet bundle of black and white fluff streaked into the room with a triumphant barking, and sat down at his feet to gaze up as adoringly as Tom Patch had done.

The hapless butler arrived a moment later, out of breath. ‘I’m sorry, sir! I had him down in the kitchen and he suddenly took off when my back was turned! Shall I take him away?’

James was laughing as he bent to scoop the puppy up in his arms. ‘Don’t worry, Russell! He may stay here with us for the time being.’

‘I don’t think he is house-trained, sir…’ Russell continued with a worried frown, but James waved him away airily.

‘House-trained or not, I’ll swear he is as hungry as I am!’ His eye fell appreciatively on the table, groaning under the weight of the supper dishes. ‘I detect your influence here, Caro! Let’s eat, shall we?’

There was much news to catch up on during the meal. They ate informally on their laps and James entertained his visitors with some of the more light-hearted anecdotes from his time abroad. They had stayed in touch during the past years and picked up the threads of their old friendship without any trouble. The conversation ranged widely from the French political situation to the latest fashionable plays, and the time passed agreeably for them all. The puppy, which Tom Patch had solemnly assured James was called Nod, sat beneath James’s chair and ate the bits of food surreptitiously passed to him by all three.

The last of the cold chicken and ham pie was finished and James rose to put more logs on the fire whilst Marcus poured the port and rang for a pot of tea. Caroline had stated with characteristic frankness that she had no intention of withdrawing whilst the men drank and chatted together. Thus they settled themselves in a circle before the fire
and a contented hush fell upon them which no one felt inclined to break. After a few moments, however, Caroline stirred herself. She could never sit quietly for long.

‘I do like this house, James. It has a very restful atmosphere.’

‘Yes.’ James looked around him with surprised approval. ‘I have scarce been here since I was a boy and could hardly remember it, but it is rather charming. I had intended to let the place shortly,’ he added thoughtfully, ‘but it’s usefully placed between London and Cardace Hall. If I am to visit my grandfather much, it might prove a convenient staging post.’

‘How is your grandfather?’ Marcus enquired. ‘Did you find him improved?’

‘Fortunately I did, although he was out of charity with me!’ James smiled, albeit ruefully. ‘Not surprisingly, he was ill-disposed to forgive me my neglect of him over the past few years! I shall have to work hard to regain his approval. I wish now that I had not stayed away so long.’ He remembered suddenly Alicia’s searing indictment of him as a man who had cared nothing for his responsibilities, and shrugged irritably. She had an uncanny aptitude for finding out his weaknesses.

Caroline and Marcus exchanged a look. ‘Why did you not come back sooner, James?’ Caroline asked, tentatively for her. ‘We have all missed you, you know!’

James’s face softened and he smiled at her. ‘Thank you, Caro! To tell the truth, I never planned to be away so long; it just turned out like that.’ He looked sombrely into the flames. His confrontation with Alicia was still at the forefront of his mind, the urge to talk about her was strong.

‘I suppose,’ he said slowly, ‘that I left in the first place for all the wrong reasons. I was young and I had too much pride.’

‘You mean because you could not tolerate what Alicia had done?’ Caroline asked directly. ‘Don’t glare at me, Marcus! We both know that’s what James meant!’

James smiled, a little reluctantly. ‘Near enough, Caro! And, once away, I found that I had no inclination to come home. Until now.’

‘So you went to Paris and plunged into two years of dissipation and dangerous living,’ Marcus observed, deliberately cheerful, and after a moment the tense lines on James’s face eased and he laughed.

‘Well, Paris is the best of places for that!’

‘So I’m told!’ Marcus looked at him with speculative amusement.
‘The whole of London Society heard of your exploits with Ghislaine de Fleuriot,
and
Marguerite Santony,
and
that delightful actress…’

‘Not forgetting that Italian opera singer,’ Caroline added mischievously. ‘The one who apparently entertained her guests one evening wearing your pearls and very little else, James!’

‘I see you know more of it all than I do,’ James commented, undisturbed by their teasing. ‘It was an…educational two years, one might say, but there were pressing matters relating to my father’s estate which still needed to be dealt with, so I went to Ireland to sort them out.’

‘And exchanged a life of dissipation for one of seclusion?’ Marcus prompted, with a grin.

‘Hardly that,’ Caroline objected. ‘They say Dublin Society is very fast—is that not so? And remember the tales of Jane Clancy and that heiress—Elizabeth Daubenay? Rumours reached us that you were to marry her, James!’

James managed to look amused and cynical at the same time, and for a moment there was an expression in his eyes which led Caroline to reflect whimsically that she could perfectly understand why the besotted Elizabeth had tried so hard to fix his interest. He seemed so dangerously attractive, she thought soulfully; the temptation would always be to try to reform him. Then she smiled at her own fanciful ideas.

‘There was never the least possibility of my marrying Elizabeth Daubenay!’ James was quite definite. ‘Such stories were much exaggerated, Caro! I was too—’

‘Exhausted?’ Marcus suggested wickedly.

‘I was going to say busy, actually!’ His friends’ teasing was having the desired effect and James appeared to be relaxing. Both the Kilgarens had noticed the latent tension within him earlier and were curious to learn its cause, but they also knew well enough that he would tell them in his own time if he wanted them to know.

‘Turning the stud farm around so that it became profitable again took both more time and more work than I had anticipated,’ James finished, by way of explanation.

‘Well, you’ve been remarkably successful,’ Marcus commented. ‘The pair of greys you sent to Tattersall’s last autumn were sweet goers and I know Saltburn paid a fine price, so keen was he to secure them. But what do you plan to do now that you are back in England, James?’

The arrival of the tea tray provided a short distraction at this point and Caroline poured for herself whilst the port decanter made another
round. Once the footman had withdrawn, James tossed another log on the fire and turned back to the question.

‘I’ve made arrangements to sell the stud, and I intend to settle back in England permanently.’ He looked thoughtful. ‘It’s plain to me that I need to consolidate my estates and there’s a lot of work to be done putting them in order. First I had planned to see Tadcaster, my agent, and arrange for a new tenant here with a view to selling eventually. However, I am not so sure now that I wish to let the house, since I may need to keep it for my own use.’ He sighed unconsciously. ‘There is another complication in that, however.’

When he did not elaborate, Caroline glanced at her husband, then seized the bull by the horns in her usual blunt manner. ‘You mean because of your proximity here to Alicia Carberry? But surely you would not be intending to spend a great deal of time here, James—it should be possible to avoid her if you try hard enough!’

James looked up, aware of an undercurrent in Caroline’s voice that made her own feelings on the subject quite plain. He knew full well that Caroline and Alicia were still close friends, and until the previous week he had not seen why this should affect him at all. Now he realised that this had been naive—if he intended to avoid Alicia and the complicated effect she appeared to have on him, he needed to make a complete break with everyone and everything connected with her. He sighed. He had no desire to lose Caroline’s friendship.

‘It’s not as simple as that, Caro. Bear with me and I shall explain in a moment. As for the rest of my future plans—in a few weeks I am travelling up to Worcestershire to see Louisa and her family, and finally—’ he grimaced ‘—I plan to open Cardace House for the Season. My grandfather feels himself so improved that he wishes to come up to London for the first time in an age.’

‘That’ll cause a stir,’ Marcus commented. He was happy to follow James’s lead and not press him on the subject of Alicia Carberry, but he knew that James’s hint had already led to Caroline being consumed with curiosity. ‘You don’t seem very enthusiastic at the prospect of the Season,’ he added. ‘Has middle age caught up with you already, James? You used to be so sociable!’

James shrugged. ‘I don’t know.’ Once more a touch of constraint entered his manner. ‘Perhaps I’m simply not looking forward to having all the old history raked up. In my heart I knew that I could not escape it, but now the prospect of having my past picked over by a bunch of quizzes is hard to bear!’

Caroline poured herself another cup of tea. ‘You must confound them all by being a pattern-card of virtue!’ she said, with a hint of malice. ‘Perhaps you should take a wife! That should silence the gossips!’

Unbidden, infuriatingly, the image of Alicia Carberry rose in James’s mind once more. Alicia, who had refused his proposal only last week. Alicia, whose memory was provoking, infuriating, tantalising…With a painful jolt of the heart he wondered if he would ever be free. He shook his head abruptly to dispel the image. Caroline was watching him over the rim of her cup with her steady, perceptive gaze and he was afraid that she might see too much, but she said nothing and a moment later an impish light had entered her eyes.

‘We could help you in your search for a wife,’ she suggested lightly. ‘We know all the eligible debutantes who will be making their come-out this year.’ She wriggled down comfortably in her seat. ‘Let’s see,’ she mused.’ Amanda Edgecot is pretty and biddable, but perhaps a little young for you at seventeen? Do you remember her? A skinny brat with pigtails? What would you prefer, James—a demure young thing, or perhaps someone slightly older, with a little more conversation?’

James winced. He had acknowledged to his grandfather that he needed to find himself a wife, but now the whole process sounded horribly commercial and—worse still—a dead bore. His thoughts turned once more with a predictable inevitability. Alicia…She was never boring or insipid…difficult, perhaps…challenging, even…Now he was starting to get really angry with himself for his preoccupation with her. He completely missed the conspiratorial glance which flashed between Marcus and Caroline Kilgaren, so profound was his combined distaste at an arranged match and his annoyance with himself.

‘Well,’ Marcus continued casually, when James had failed to answer, ‘I don’t doubt that you will be viewed as quite a matrimonial prize!’ He met Caroline’s eyes with a smile and they both studiously ignored James’s look of disgust.

‘If you do prefer someone older,’ Marcus pursued, ‘there are several sensible girls who have been out for a few seasons. They are up to snuff and would not expect too much from you!’

It said a lot for James’s preoccupation that he completely failed to realise that they were teasing him. Caroline picked up the cue neatly.

‘Yes,’ she said thoughtfully, ‘there is Maria Marston, although I hear she is a little…’ she paused delicately ‘…well, stupid really, but ideal if you require an amenable wife! Or Georgiana Stapleford,’ she added hopefully. ‘Now, she is
very
beautiful!’

‘But equally spoilt and selfish!’ Marcus said roundly. ‘No, my dear, I doubt we can foist Georgiana off on James even if he were not too particular in his requirements! Now, how about—?’

‘When you two have quite finished!’ James put his glass down with a snap indicative of irritation as much as amusement. ‘I fail to see why my matrimonial plans cause such fascination! Not,’ he added ironically, ‘that I could not do with some assistance! Only last week I had a proposal of marriage rejected out of hand!’

The reaction to this deliberately provocative statement was all that James could have desired. Caroline gave a smothered squeak and clapped her hand to her mouth, the teacup in her other hand tilting at a dangerous angle. Even Marcus’s habitual nonchalance suffered a severe blow. He ran his hand through his fair hair, adjusted his cravat and cleared his throat.

‘Well, if that don’t beat the Dutch! Dash it all, James, you can’t just leave it at that!’ A twinkle entered his blue eyes. ‘Who is the lady who is discerning enough to reject your suit?’