Patricia Veryan - [Sanguinet Saga 07] - Married Past Redemption (40 page)

Not glancing his way, Strand nodded. "Two o'clock!"

"Good God, no!" Devenish was nursing the hope of reaching
Leith and
somehow calling a halt to this, and he expostulated, "That's
ridiculous!"

Bolster gestured fatalistically. "Two o'clock is acceptable to
me, Dev."

Strand took up his belongings and marched to the door Bolster
called
to him. He scowled and swore under his breath, but turned back.

Bolster held out the fateful whip. "F-forgot this," he said
quietly.

A wave of grief racked Strand. His exquisite and wanton wife…
and
Jeremy
… ! He took the whip and strode out,
leaving the door open.

Passing Mrs. Strand's cloak to the footman. Powers relayed the
news
that her family had been delayed due to the weather and was not yet
returned from Park Parapine. "Meanwhile, Miss Lis—ah, madam," he
intoned, "we are so fortunate as to entertain my lady."

Lisette was ill-prepared to cope with Beatrice, and, her heart
sinking, could not restrain a dismayed, "Oh, dear!"

"Wicked, wicked girl!" snarled an irate voice. "How I wish I
might box your ears!"

Turning joyously, Lisette cried, "Grandmama!" And ran to kiss
that vexed
grande dame
and say fondly, "Oh, but
how famous to find you here! Do you stay with my parents? Please say
you do not mean to rush away."

Mollified, Lady Bayes-Copeland allowed herself to be ushered
tenderly to the drawing room, settled into a chair by the fireside, and
begged to wait while her granddaughter hastened upstairs to change her
gown and tidy her hair. Returning very soon to the old lady, Lisette
drew a chair closer, expressing her concern that her grandmother should
have journeyed to Town in such weather.

"Is a new form of madness," declared my lady, sourly. "No
sooner
does heaven visit a second Flood upon us than everyone takes to the
roads! Beatrice, yourself, Jeremy Bolster, my new grandson and, most
unwilling and innocent of victims, myself!"

Surprised, Lisette asked, "You have seen Strand? And Bolster?
Here?"

"I have seen neither. Only arrived half an hour before you. I
was at
Brighton. My footman brought the post down to me, and there was a
letter from Strand which disturbed me. On my way back to Town, I
detoured, suffering my poor old bones to be jolted over more miles of
cart ruts for his sake, only to reach the hall and find him gone!"

"I am so sorry, dearest. Justin is at Silverings, working on
the yacht."

"Ain't. According to Fisher and your housekeeper, that
skitterpate
Jeremy Bolster rid in, was closeted with Beatrice, and went off
uttering some fustian about being called to Oxford.
Oxford!
From what his mama told me of his undergraduate years there, the town
would throw up barricades to keep his disastrous person from the
environs!"

Trying not to dwell on what Beatrice might have said to alarm
Bolster, Lisette probed, "And—my husband, ma'am?"

"Galloped in as though the devil capered on his shoulder, to
hear
Fisher tell it. Threw some necessaries into a valise, ordered up his
chaise, and drove off again!" She rapped her cane on the floor, then
shook it at her bewildered granddaughter. "Well you may stare, miss!
The man's betwattled, just as I always held! You should never have
married him, and you'd best not set up your nursery, for it will surely
be inhabited by caper wits!"

Lisette was silent and, her heart touched by those great
frightened
eyes, the old lady said in gentler tone, "Now, for Lord's sake, child,
never look so scared. I did not mean it. Is a fine boy, else I'd not
have gone to such lengths to find him. For that is why I came here.
Truth to tell, I feared you had—er—bolted, and that he'd followed you."

Lisette flushed. Evading her grandmother's shrewd gaze, she
explained that she had become bored in Sussex and decided to visit
Rachel and Charity for a few days. "But the roads were dreadful," she
appended, and to forestall the comment she dreaded, went on hurriedly,
"Indeed, I find it most unkind that Justin would ask you to come to us
in such a storm."

"Well, he did not. Matter of fact, he wrote asking if he might
visit
me.
But—well, here. Read it for yourself." Lady Bayes-Copeland drew a
crumpled sheet of paper from her pocket and offered it with an
impatient jerking of her frail hand.

Lisette unfolded the page and read:

"Dear Grandmother B.C.—"

"D'ye see the way he names me, the saucy rogue?" demanded the
old
lady, stabbing a finger at the letter. "B.C. indeed!" She cackled
mirthfully. "I'll B.C. him! Well, never sit there like a lump!
Read
the thing, girl!"

Dear Grandmother B.C
.—

You once told me that I know nothing of how to treat
a lady. You were perfectly right, and I stand in need of help.

May I come and see you? If I do not hear to the
contrary, I
shall drive down on the morning of the twelfth inst., and call upon
you. I am desperate, ma'am, else I would not beg that you
please
receive me. Pray forgive this invasion of your
privacy.

Your devoted admirer, Strand

Lisette lowered the page slowly. Retrieving it, my lady
sniffed,
"Now tell me what has gone amiss. Have you quarelled because he spanked
you?"

Startled, Lisette gasped, "You knew about that?"

"My spies are everywhere! Did Strand believe the tales
Beatrice set
about he was well justified, but I doubt he beat you half as hard as
you deserved!"

"Deserved! I had done nothing!
Nothing
!"

"Save tilt your haughty nose in the air because you fancied
him
beneath you, which he ain't! Child, oh, child!" The old lady leaned to
place one hand on her granddaughter's wrist. "Never be so foolish as to
throw away the love of a good man for the smooth words of a pretty
scoundrel like Garvey!"

Sudden tears stinging her eyes, Lisette answered huskily, "I
am not
that big a fool, Grandmama. But Strand has an odd way showing his love.
On our wedding night, he—"

"I know all about that and am sworn to say not a word." My
lady
leaned back in her chair, both hands clasped atop her cane, waiting
with smug anticipation. She had not long to wait.

"You—you
know
?" stammered Lisette. "Oh,
Grandmama! I implore you to tell me. Who is she? Have I met her? Is—is
she very beautiful?"

The twinkle in the old lady's eyes brightened. "A suprising
degree of concern from a girl who cares naught for her husband!''

Lisette drew back, turning her face aside, and, after a
contemplative moment, my lady murmured, "She is young. And of a very
kind and gentle disposition, and—"

"Not a spoiled little shrew—like me!" Lisette interpolated
through suddenly clenched teeth.

Lady Bayes-Copeland scanned her thoughtfully. "No. Not at all
like
you, my dear." She noted the way the white hands gripped the sides of
the chair, and how the sweetly curved lower lip trembled, and went on,
"But he loves her very deeply. She has something better than mere
looks, you see. A compassionate soul; a warm and tender heart."
Lisette's proud head bowed low, and the old lady added slyly, "But that
does not concern you, since you have interests elsewhere."

"Much chance I shall have of—of finding another interest,"
said
Lisette, blinking rapidly. "If Strand served me so brutally over a
silly rumour, heaven knows what he might do did I take a lover!"
Flashing a glance at her grandmother, she surprised a grin on that wise
countenance and cried indignantly, "Well you may laugh, ma'am! Had you
ever known how it feels to be beaten, you…" The mirth on the old lady's
face faded into nostalgia, and Lisette interrupted herself to breathe
an awed, "Grandmama… ? My grandfather—he did not—
you
were not… ?

"Ah, but I was, child. Such a gentle soul was my Donald. And
I, the rage of London—
and
Paris! I was promised to him in my cradle, but despised his quiet ways,
and he so patient through all my tantrums. I thought I could do as I
chose, but he showed me my error…" My lady sighed, her eyes very soft
by reason of that distant memory.

Leaning to her, Lisette breathed, "And did he strike you
very
hard?"

"No." Her grandmother chuckled. "Not really. It was the
humiliation
hurt the most, and the knowledge I had indeed been most naughty. But
never had I admired him more, through I did not let him see that, of
course, and wept so that he was horrified by what he had done and—oh,
so sweetly repentant."

"And—and so you forgave him?"

"Of course." My lady cackled and gave Lisette a conspiratorial
dig
in the ribs. "But not before I had made him promise never to raise his
hand to me again. He never did, and although we had our squabbles and
differences from time to time, I gave him no cause to doubt me, and I
always held him in respect—to the day he died, God rest his dear soul…"
With another sigh for yesterdays, she put her snowy head back against
her chair and closed her eyes for a moment. Strand's letter slipped
from her hand, and taking it up to fold it absently, Lisette said, "But
I thought you had many lovers!"

"So I did!" The fierce eyes snapped open again.
"Cicisbeos
merely, but I'd the largest court of any woman in London, I'll have you
know. In fact—" The door burst open. Irked, she swung her head around
and began, "How dare—"

Amanda Hersh rushed in, dropped the old lady a hurried
curtsey, and
turned a distraught countenance to her friend. "Thank heaven I found
you Lisette! You must stop him you
must!"

Standing to greet her, Lisette was struck by foreboding. "What
is it? Has something happened to Lord Bolster?"

"I pray not!" cried Amanda, wringing her hands. "I do not know
the cause but Strand struck Jeremy in the face with his whip!"

Lisette gasped, "He—
what
? Oh, your
pardon, but you must be mistaken. They are the very best of friends."

"They were! No longer. Strand must be all about in his head
but he struck him I tell you!''

"The devil he did!" Lady Bayes-Copeland rose with unusual
alacrity
and, proceeding straight to the heart of the matter, said "They'll go
out, then?"

"This—this afternoon!" wailed Amanda.

Too stricken to utter a word, Lisette stared at her.

"Where?" barked the old lady. "When?"

"Alas I do not know ma'am I can discover naught of it I am
sure Mr.
Devenish knows but he would not tell me." Amanda moved to clasp
Lisette's arm imploringly. "I
cannot
understand
it but they are to fight with pistols that much I did learn and it
means—that— Oh, Lisette help me! For pity's sake
help
me!"

Lisette raised a trembling hand to her brow. "Yes, but what—
whatever are we to do? This afternoon! My God! Why ever must it be so
soon?"

"Because men are incredible ninnies!" raged my lady, rapping
her
cane on the floor in frustration. "And this is no time to stand on
ceremony. Come!"

Two terrified pairs of eyes turned to her. "Where?" asked
Lisette.

"To the servants' hall." My lady began to march to the door,
her
step surprisingly brisk. " 'Tis the one sure source of information. But
if those two idiots kill one another before we can stop them, I shall
never speak to either of 'em again! And so I warn you!"

The
drizzle had stopped by the time the
carriage halted,
and pale rays of sunlight were beginning to slant through the warm,
misty air. Strand drew the collar of his greatcoat higher about his
throat and, shivering, started off with his usual rapid stride, only to
check as a shattering howl blasted the damp silence. "That damnable
hound will raise every constable for miles around does he keep that
up!" he gritted.

Marcus Clay nodded and, praying that Leith would receive his
message, offered to go back and let Brutus out of the carriage.

"Lord, no! He would hang on everyone's neck, blast him!"

Walking on, Clay asked, "Why did you bring him if he's such a
nuisance?"

"I didn't
invite
him! The brute jumped
in just as my groom
was putting up the steps and raised such a fuss when we tried to drag
him out that two old ladies who chanced to be passing threatened to
have me arrested for cruelty to animals! It seemed less trouble to haul
him along, but that is why I'm late." He scowled to see Bolster's
chaise drawn up beside some trees. "Damn it! I knew he'd be punctual!"

Clay muttered that he'd best consult with Devenish and
wandered over
to the small group awaiting them. The surgeon, a cold-eyed man with a
military bearing, vouchsafed the information that he'd not been in
attendance at a duel since "poor young Hedges" was killed in May. Clay
and Devenish exchanged grim glances and went off to measure the
distance.

"Any word?" Devenish asked, low-voiced.

"None. Even if my man finds Leith, I doubt anything can be
done. What a
damnable
coil this is! Poor
Bolster's face looks dreadful. How's he taking this?"

"A sight calmer than I would do. But there's an air of
resignation about him. I've an idea he means to delope."

"Good God! He must be mad! But if he
does
fire in the air, I give you my word Strand won't! He's like a man
possessed. Have you learned what set it off?"

"Something about Lisette, which I cannot fathom, because
Bolster's
crazy for his Amanda. This spot's level, eh? Strand's— Jupiter! What
was that?"

The long-drawn-out howl echoed eerily through the swirling
vapours.
Glancing in some amusement at Devenish, Clay saw the fine young face
was pale and scared—a most uncharacteristic reaction from this
fire-eater. "It's only Brutus," he said reassuringly. "He stowed away
in Justin's chaise. Something bothering you, Dev?"