The Second Lady Southvale (16 page)

Annie stared at her. ‘Are – are you saying that Lady Southvale is still alive, madam?’

‘Yes, I am. And not only is she still alive, but she’s on the point of returning to her husband.’

‘Oh, no, it can’t be so.’

‘It is, and what’s more, Mr Beaufort knew about it. First impressions are nearly always right, aren’t they? I knew him for a toad during the first few seconds, and now he’s proved himself to be just that.’

‘Miss Carberry, has Lord Southvale said he’s taking her back?’

‘Yes.’

‘But he loves you, madam!’

Rosalind smiled wryly. ‘No, Annie, he doesn’t love me. I was but a fleeting fancy, a diversion to take his mind off his sadness. He still loves her and has told me that there’s nothing here for me.’

‘He really doesn’t love you?’ Annie’s eyes were urgent.

‘No. She’s the one he’s always loved.’

The maid lowered her eyes. ‘I wish he wanted to be rid of her,’ she said quietly.

‘I’m afraid it’s me he wishes to be rid of, so the sooner I leave, the better for all concerned.’ Rosalind looked quickly at the maid. ‘I shall still honor my promise to you concerning your mother’s medical expenses.’

Annie lowered her eyes, blinking back sudden tears. In the brief time she’d known Rosalind, she’d come to hold her in very high regard indeed.

Taking a deep breath, Rosalind went to sit at the dressing table. ‘I’ll leave as soon as a chaise can be secured for me. Will you tell Richardson in the morning?’

‘A chaise, madam? Isn’t his lordship going to provide you with his traveling carriage?’

‘I haven’t asked him, and I don’t intend to. I prefer to hire a chaise.’

‘Yes, miss. I’ll tell Mr Richardson.’

‘I’ll take the chaise to Falmouth and then obtain passage on the first available packet.’

‘I’m so very, very sorry, Miss Carberry. If only his lordship still loved you.’

‘Well, he doesn’t, Annie, there’s no mistake about that. His first reaction on seeing me was the true one: he told me there was nothing here for me, and that the sooner I returned to America, the better. Those aren’t the words of a man in love with me, are they?’

‘No, madam, they’re not.’

‘Unpin my hair, Annie, for the sooner I change and retire to my bed, the sooner I bring this dreadful day to an end.’

‘Yes, madam.’

But Rosalind wasn’t able to retire to her bed for a little while, because Lady Eleanor and Katherine came to see her just as she was about to take her wrap off. At first she didn’t want to face them, but at last gave in and told Annie to open the door.

Katherine hurried straight to her. ‘Oh, this is all quite
dreadful
!’

‘I take it you know what’s happened?’

‘Yes, the
chienne
has returned out of nowhere.’

Lady Eleanor went to sit on one of the fireside chairs. ‘
Chienne
, indeed,’ she murmured.

Rosalind glanced at her in surprise. So the old lady was yet another who didn’t admire Celia.

Lady Eleanor made herself comfortable and then looked at Rosalind. ‘I can’t tell you how much I regret all this, Miss Carberry, for although you’ve only been with us for a very short while, I’ve nevertheless formed a very favorable opinion of you.’

‘Thank you, Lady Eleanor.’

‘I cannot believe that Philip is still so blind as to love that odious creature and can only presume that he’s taking her back out of duty.’

Rosalind shook her head. ‘He still loves her, my lady, there’s no question of it.’ She hesitated. ‘Is he still here?’

‘No, my dear, he chose to avoid the inevitable quizzing he’d received from Katherine and me, and he’s removed to his club for the rest of the evening. He refused to answer any questions before he left, so we’re rather hoping that you may be able to shed a little light on everything.’

‘Me? I don’t know anything,’ replied Rosalind.

‘Did he tell you where Celia has been for the past year or more?’

‘No, and I didn’t ask him. All I know is that she’s still alive and that he expects her to be with him again soon.’

Katherine sat dejectedly on the edge of the bed. ‘I can’t believe all this is happening,’ she murmured. ‘I really hoped that you were going to become my sister-in-law, Rosalind.’ She smiled sadly. ‘I know it may seem pointless now, but I really would like to call you Rosalind. Do you mind?’

‘No, of course not.’

‘And you must call me Katherine. Oh, this is all so unfair! Celia’s coming back to make us all miserable again, and Philip’s turning his back on the one he should marry.’

‘He still loves Celia,’ Rosalind reminded her quietly.

‘I don’t even think she was faithful to him,’ cried Katherine, getting up from the bed.

Lady Eleanor looked severely at her. ‘That’s quite enough, Katherine.’

‘But—’

‘I said that’s quite enough,’ repeated the old lady sternly. ‘Whatever you may think, you must not say it. Your brother’s wife is returning to him, and since he evidently still loves her, then you must hold your tongue.’

Annie kept her gaze fixed firmly on the floor, but Rosalind looked quickly from the old lady to Katherine, remembering Mrs Penruthin and the mention of a certain Dom Rodrigo de Freire.

Katherine was close to tears of frustration and anger. ‘I don’t owe that creature any favors.’

‘No, you don’t,’ agreed the old lady, ‘for she was very unkind to you, but if you set out to try to alienate her from Philip, I fear that in the end you will be the one who is alienated from him. He wants her back, child, and no matter how much we may chafe against it, there’s nothing we can do. Miss Carberry is the one who has to pay the highest price, for she has forfeited her reputation. She is innocent, the victim of circumstance, but I’m sure that Washington gossip is as odiously unfair as in any other city. Am I right, Miss Carberry?’

‘I fear you are, Lady Eleanor.’

‘When do you intend to leave us?’

‘As soon as a chaise can be secured. I’ve told Annie to instruct Richardson in the morning.’

‘A chaise? But, my dear—’

‘I don’t want the use of Philip’s carriage, Lady Eleanor,’ Rosalind interrupted firmly.

For a moment the old lady seemed about to try to persuade her, but then decided against it. She rose slowly to her feet. ‘I fear I must retire to my bed, for I have one of my headaches. There’ll be another change in the weather before morning. Thunder, if I’m not mistaken. Come along, Katherine. Good night, Miss Carberry.’

‘Good night, Lady Eleanor.’

‘I’m deeply sorry that all this has occurred, for I would have been very glad to welcome you permanently to the family. You do know that, don’t you?’

‘Yes, I do.’ Rosalind smiled at her.

As the old lady went out, Katherine suddenly hurried to Rosalind, flinging her arms around her neck, and hugging her. ‘I wish you weren’t going, I wish so many things, and none of them is going to come true. I was unhappy in love, so I know how desperately miserable you must be now.’ Then, stifling a sob, she hurried out after her great-aunt.

Annie closed the door quietly behind them and then came to turn back the bedclothes for Rosalind. ‘Is there anything else you wish me to do, madam?’

‘No, that will be all, Annie. Oh, you may extinguish the candles.’

‘Very well, madam.’

A moment later the candles were all out, leaving curls of smoke to drift in the firelit room. Rosalind took off her wrap and then climbed into the bed. She lay staring up at the Oriental canopy, conscious of a feeling of great emptiness. Her worst fears had been realized – oh, how they’d been
realized
– and now all thought of happiness had been cruelly wrenched away. She still loved Philip de Grey with all her heart, but that love was no longer returned, if, indeed, it ever had been. Had he loved her in Washington? Or had it just been an illusion, not only to her, but to Philip himself? He had gazed upon her and had been momentarily distracted, that was all it now seemed to have been. How she wished she hadn’t so blindly followed the dictates of her heart, but had listened to John instead. But fools rush in where angels fear to tread, and now she was paying the price of that
foolishness
.

Sleep didn’t come, and the minutes passed interminably slowly as she lay gazing at the canopy. A church clock struck midnight, and then one o’clock, and still sleep eluded her. She heard a carriage in St James’s Place and realized that it was turning into the courtyard. It must be Philip returning from his club.

She tried to close her eyes, but it was impossible to
contemplate
sleep. Flinging back the bedclothes, she got up to go to the window, drawing back the curtains and then folding the
shutters
.

The wind had subsided outside, and all was very still, so still that a mist had risen in the park, caused, no doubt, by the unseen waters of the Tyburn. A movement on the terrace below
caught her eye, and she looked down to see Philip walking toward the little rotunda. He went inside and closed the door behind him.

She hesitated and then impulsively turned to put on her wrap. She had to speak to him, for there was still so very much to be said between them.

The night air was cold and damp as she emerged onto the terrace, and she could smell the autumn leaves in the park. The mist swirled eerily between the trees, but was as yet lower than the terrace. She shivered as she went quickly toward the rotunda, for her wrap was only flimsy.

She opened the door and saw him lounging wearily back on one of the chairs. He leapt to his feet as she appeared. ‘Rosalind?’

‘I saw you from my window. I must speak to you again, Philip.’

‘No good will come of it.’

‘Maybe not, but I had to come down here to see you. I’m leaving as soon as a chaise can be secured, hopefully some time tomorrow, I mean, today …’

‘A chaise? Rosalind, I insist that you use my carriage.’

‘No, Philip, I won’t be beholden to you.’

‘Beholden?’ He gave an ironic laugh. ‘That is surely the last thing you will ever be.’

‘Maybe so, but it’s how I feel. It’s better if I hire a chaise.’

‘My carriage will be at your disposal if you change your mind,’ he said quietly, his glance moving over her and coming to rest on her golden hair as it spilled loosely over her
shoulders
.

‘Did you ever really love me, Philip?’ she asked.

‘Yes. You know that without asking.’

‘Do I?’

The faintest of smiles played on his lips. ‘You should do,’ he said softly.

‘Then you should know that I still love you,’ she said with
painful honesty.

‘Don’t say that, Rosalind. Please don’t say that.’

‘But I do still love you, and I can’t stop just because of what’s happened. I came all the way just to be with you, to give myself to you …’

He came closer, putting a finger swiftly to her lips to stop her words. ‘Do you think I’m made of stone, Rosalind? Do you think I’m finding it easy to turn away from you?’ His hand fell away again.

‘I don’t know, Philip. All I know is that Celia has come back, and there’s no longer any room for me in your heart.’

‘She’s my wife, and she’s been ill. Now she needs me and I have a duty toward her.’

‘Ill?’

He turned away, going to a window and looking out over the misty park. ‘It seems she was saved from the shipwreck by a passing Portuguese vessel. She was barely alive and had struck her head, with the consequence that she’d lost her memory. She didn’t recover it until a few months ago, when she struck her head again in a riding accident. The family who have been looking after her all this time wrote to me, and the letter was waiting here when I returned from Washington.’

So Katherine had been right, the change in him had been due to something in the accumulated mail. ‘Where has Celia been all this time?’

‘Somewhere just outside Lisbon.’

Rosalind stared at him. Mrs Penruthin’s voice suddenly echoed in her head: ‘… A Portuguese nobleman by the name of Dom Rodrigo de Freire. He’d been in England for some three months, visiting London after serving with the Duke of Wellington in Spain. He was very handsome and dashing, and very wealthy, for he had fine estates outside Lisbon. His ship set sail for Portugal on the same tide that hers left for Ireland …’ Surely it was all too great a coincidence? ‘Philip, what is the name of the family she’s been with?’

‘Name? I don’t know, the signature was illegible. I think someone called Dom João wrote it, yes, that’s it, Dom João, but as to the surname, well, it was impossible to read. It’s strange actually, because the rest of the letter was very clearly written indeed.’

Rosalind fell silent, but her every instinct told her that Celia hadn’t lost her memory at all and hadn’t even been on the ship that had gone down. She’d been in Portugal for the past year, with her lover, Dom Rodrigo. The affair had probably run its course and now she wanted to come back.

Philip turned to face her again. ‘The letter said she’d soon be leaving for England and that I was to expect her at any time. I knew that it was out of the question for me to continue our betrothal, Rosalind, so I wrote a brief note, asking you not to leave Washington, and I sent a man to Falmouth to catch the
Queen of Falmouth
before she sailed. I didn’t want to give you up, but I had no choice, for I was no longer free to offer you anything.’

‘You – you didn’t want to give me up?’

His eyes were very blue, even in the virtual darkness of the rotunda. ‘No.’

‘Philip, do you still love Celia?’

He hesitated and then shook his head. ‘No.’

She stared at him. ‘Do you love me?’

‘My darling Rosalind, I love you so much that it hurts to be so close without taking you in my arms. Somehow I’m going to have to exist without you, and it’s a prospect so bleak that I don’t know how I will endure.’

A limitless joy swept weakeningly through her. ‘Oh, Philip, I think I can bear anything if I know you still love me.’

He closed his eyes for a long moment. ‘I have no right to love you now, Rosalind.’

She went to him, linking her arms around his neck and
kissing
him on the lips. For the space of a heartbeat he tried to resist, but then he swept her into his arms, almost lifting her
from the floor as he crushed her close. His fingers curled richly in her hair and he could feel the wild beating of her heart. The love and desire she’d aroused from the first moment cried bitterly through him again now. He’d never love anyone as he loved her, but he had to give her up.

Slowly he relinquished his hold, putting his hands up to disengage her arms. ‘This is wrong, Rosalind …’

‘I know,’ she whispered, tears wet on her cheeks.

He cupped her face in his hands. ‘You’re so very lovely,’ he said softly. ‘You will fill my nights and my days, and you always will. That’s why I had to move Celia’s portrait back into the drawing-room. I tried to remember her, but all I could see was you.’

Rosalind closed her eyes, more tears wending their way down her cheeks.

He rested his forehead against hers, his thumbs caressing gently. ‘I know I deluded myself about Celia, for she wasn’t the paragon I chose to convince myself she was. I’d even begun to suspect her of having lovers, but I didn’t want to believe it of her, and when she died, I felt guilty for having doubted her. I think I was out of love with her before she left for Ireland that last time, but I was conscience-stricken because I’d secretly thought ill of her. Rosalind, any feelings I may once have had for her are now quite cold, and if I could with honor take you as my wife, believe me I would, for you mean everything to me. But she is still Lady Southvale, and I owe her a duty. You do understand that, don’t you?’

She nodded, unable to speak.

He brushed his lips tenderly over hers, tasting her tears. ‘Go now, my love, before I give in and beg you to stay with me.’

A sob caught in her throat as she drew back from him, then she turned and hurried out into the night. The mist had crept up over the terrace now, lying in a swirling, silver-gray carpet across her path. It recoiled as she went by, and then folded silently over again, hiding the telltale marks of her passing.