Miss Verey’s Proposal

Chapter Two

‘It’s true, I’m afraid,’ Lady Eleanor Fane said bluntly. ‘It’s the on dit all over Town, Alex, even eclipsing poor Maria Scrope’s elopement with the footman! Everyone knows that Philip described Miss Jane Verey as an ugly, illiterate brood mare! Which,’ Lady Eleanor added fairly, ‘would be bad enough even without the rest!’

She removed her gloves, discarded her parasol and collapsed into an armchair with a heavy sigh.

Lady Eleanor, the Duke of Delahaye’s aunt and godmother, was one of the few women allowed past the portals of Haye House. Impeccably connected and with a wide circle of friends, Lady Eleanor often acted as the Duke’s eyes and ears in Society. And her intelligence system was faultless. Which was why Alex Delahaye did not interrupt, but simply waited for her to continue.

‘Lady Verey has brought her daughter up to Town,’ Lady Eleanor went on, reaching for the silver teapot and pouring herself a generous cup. ‘Jane is not out yet-she makes her debut at Almack’s next week. When I met Clarissa Verey in Bond Street she had not yet heard the rumours, but it can only be a matter of time before some spiteful scandalmonger stirs up trouble!’ She watched Alex’s face set in lines of deep displeasure. ‘The girl is practically ruined before she starts! It was the utmost folly of Philip to speak as he did.’

‘I know it.’ Alex got up from the desk and strode across to the window, hands in his pockets. ‘The foolish young cub! He could never resist bragging to his cronies. No doubt they all thought it a great jest, but if the Vereys hear of it-’

‘If! When!’ Lady Eleanor said energetically. ‘The presence of Jane Verey in Town will stir the gossip to a positive maelstrom! Oh, Clarissa Verey glossed over Philip’s desertion, claiming that the betrothal had been a mere suggestion rather than a definite match, but she will not be so kind when she hears what Philip has been saying about her daughter! And there is worse, Alex, far worse!’

Alex raised one black brow, a look of faint amusement on his face. ‘What could possibly be worse?’

‘Simon Verey has returned from the wars and is accompanying them to Town,’ Lady Eleanor said, grimly. ‘They are not without protection! If he should hear of the slur cast on his sister’s name-’

‘Scarcely her name,’ Alex said mildly. ‘Even Philip has not suggested Miss Verey is anything but virtuous!’

‘Her intellect, her appearance!’ Lady Eleanor amended crossly. ‘Must you be so literal, Alexander? Simon-Lord Verey, I suppose we must now call him!-will hear some mention of it in the clubs and we will all be in the suds!’

‘Very poetic, Aunt Eleanor!’

Lady Eleanor gave a snort of disgust. ‘Upon my word, you are in an odd mood today, Alex! But I know that you have always rated Simon Verey most highly!’

‘I have indeed-he is spoken of as a most intelligent and sound man!’

‘But wait,’ Lady Eleanor said impatiently, ‘you have not heard the final piece of news!’

‘I am all attention, ma’am,’ her nephew murmured politely, betrayed only by the twinkle in his eye. Lady Eleanor let it pass in the interests of conveying her information.

‘On the strength of our old friendship, Clarissa Verey invited me back to Portman Square,’ she said. ‘Well, of course, I could scarce decline, although I hoped she would not ask my advice on how to make her hideous daughter presentable. Don’t smile at me, Alex, this is serious! Try to follow my chain of thought!’

‘Yes, ma’am!’ the Duke said meekly.

Lady Eleanor looked suspiciously at him but his expression remained quite bland.

‘Well, naturally enough, Clarissa Verey suggested that both Jane and the friend she has brought with her from the country should make their curtsies to me! Clarissa had already ordered tea, and mentioned in passing that Jane had a sweet tooth so, coupled with Philip’s comments, I made the obvious connection that the girl ate too many cakes!’

‘Naturally enough!’

‘Then the door opened, and a divine child tiptoed in and curtsied to me! She was tiny, all pink and white, with golden curls! A veritable angel!’

‘The friend from the country?’

‘Of course,’ Lady Eleanor said, discontentedly. ‘Miss Sophia Marchment! It’s a tragedy!’

‘That the friend is so pretty and Miss Verey not?’

‘No!’ Lady Eleanor glared. ‘Really, Alex, how you do leap to conclusions! No, the tragedy is that Philip has made even more of a fool of himself than we had imagined. For then, Miss Verey herself came in. Oh, dear!’

‘Pray compose yourself, ma’am,’ the Duke said, lips twitching. ‘I am desperate to hear the end of the tale!’

‘Why, but she is quite beautiful! Quite distractingly lovely!’ Lady Eleanor said crossly, reaching for a handkerchief and blowing her nose hard. ‘And the sweetest of girls! How could Philip do such a thing? How could he?’

The Duke was accustomed to his aunt’s slightly long-winded and sometimes circuitous route when approaching a subject. There was no doubt, however, that he had not been expecting this.

‘The girl is beautiful?’ he echoed, dumbfounded. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Of course I am sure! How can you be so nonsensical? She is beautiful and charming and intelligent! They are the perfect foil for each other, the one so fair and the other so dark! They’ll break all the hearts in Town!’

There was a silence. Alex got to his feet and strolled over to the window, hands in the pockets of his beautifully cut bottle-green coat. Lady Eleanor viewed his tall figure hopefully. If anyone could think of a way to bring them out of this mess, it had to be Alex. He was as cool-headed and resourceful as Philip was rash and quixotic. In fact, Lady Eleanor regretted that he sometimes seemed too cold, too passionless.

It had not always been thus. She could remember the youthful Alexander, Marquis of Hawarden as he was then, flushed with happiness and good humour on his wedding day some fourteen years before. Before his parents had died so tragically in a carriage accident, before he had had to take on the upbringing of his five siblings and before his beautiful young Duchess had disgraced his name with her open affairs, her gambling and the drinking which had lead to her premature death some six years after their marriage…

‘Are you still of a mind for Philip to wed, Alex?’ she asked a little hesitantly, as her godson seemed sunk deep in thought.

‘I am.’ Alex shook himself, turning away from his contemplation of the view of Berkeley Square. ‘He has to be made to conform, Aunt Eleanor, and what better way than by a respectable marriage and a brood of infants? And the Verey match is a good one! You may remember that it was my grandfather’s dearest wish that there should be an alliance between the Delahayes and the Vereys! I even went to Ambergate myself a few years ago to speak to Verey about it! All was set fair, and now Philip-’ He broke off, his lips tightening in exasperation.

‘You went to Ambergate?’ Lady Eleanor sat forward. ‘I had no notion! Did you meet Miss Verey whilst you were there?’

‘I did not. I saw her, but I did not speak to her. She was unaware of my visit since her father wished to keep the proposed marriage a secret from her at the time. I believe she was but fifteen and no doubt he did not judge her of an age to be considering her future husband!’

Lady Eleanor raised her brows. In her experience young ladies with far less than fifteen years in their dish were pre-occupied with their marriages.

‘What was your opinion of her?’

Alex shrugged as though he did not have an opinion. ‘Her looks were pleasant enough, I suppose, although she was a little plump. She seemed a bright, lively girl and hardly the frumpish dullard Philip is suggesting!’

Lady Eleanor frowned. ‘How could he have been so mistaken in her? I can scarce believe it! Why, the girl he described and the one that I met cannot be the same person!’

Alex was also frowning now. ‘Yes, I confess that that is the part that exercises me the most! I have every respect for your judgement, Aunt-’ he flashed her a grin ‘-and were it a choice between your assessment and Philip’s, I should settle for yours any time! But the fact remains that Philip describes Miss Verey in terms of pungent denunciation whilst you have seen her to be a veritable angel! One of you must be mistaken!’

‘My dear Alex,’ Lady Eleanor said trenchantly, ‘the whole Town will shortly see that my description is the accurate one! And not only can I vouch for Miss Verey’s personal charms, I know she has wit and style to match!’

‘Then,’ Alex Delahaye said slowly, ‘Philip must be lying. I can only assume he made up this outrageous fabrication to strengthen his refusal of the match. Perhaps he thought that I would relent if I believed Miss Verey to be utterly unpresentable! Evidently he is prepared to go to extreme lengths to avoid the marriage!’

‘Foolish,’ Lady Eleanor said shortly, ‘and dangerous. It only needed for Miss Verey to come to Town for him to be seen to be a liar and a scoundrel! I am surprised at Philip! He may be a loose fish but he is no fool!’

‘No,’ Alex said, ‘he is no fool. Which is why-’ He broke off and Lady Eleanor looked at him curiously.

‘What is in your mind, Alexander?’

‘I am thinking that there are various strands to be resolved here,’ the Duke said thoughtfully. ‘I am still of a mind to try to save the Verey match if I can. More importantly, I must speak to Philip about the sudden transformation in Miss Verey’s person and character. It is that, dear ma’am, which interests me the most.’ His dark gaze, reflective but with a faint hint of humour, rested on Lady Eleanor’s puzzled face.

‘We have assumed that it is Philip who is at fault here,’ he enlarged, ‘but no one has yet thought to ask of Miss Verey’s reaction to the proposed match. I imagine that you had too much delicacy to mention it to her, Aunt?’ Then, as Lady Eleanor nodded in bewilderment, he continued.

‘You say that she has wit and charm. Supposing, dear Aunt…just supposing…that Miss Verey herself has objections to Philip’s suit, objections that have been set aside by those making the match. She might have told her mother that she did not wish to marry, only to be overruled. Would she perhaps take matters into her own hands? And take any steps within her power to make herself displeasing to him?’

Lady Eleanor gasped, recoiling, grasping her parasol as if for comfort. ‘Alex! What a suggestion! How could she possibly-?’

‘Anyone may play the fool if they choose,’ Alex said drily. ‘It is more difficult to appear ugly if one is not, but scarcely impossible with a little disguise! And Philip is not very discerning! I wonder…’

‘Are you truly suggesting that Miss Verey has tricked Philip?’ Lady Eleanor looked as though she would be reaching for the hartshorn next. ‘No! Oh, no, I cannot credit it!’

Alex smiled. ‘I may, of course, be doing Miss Verey the greatest injustice. But it should be possible to discover the circumstances under which she and Philip met, the witnesses, the words that passed between them. I believe that I could find out quite easily whether or not Philip has been cozened!’

Lady Eleanor was still looking confused and deeply reproachful. ‘Alex, you have the cunning of the devil even to think of it!’

‘Thank you, Aunt Eleanor!’ Once again, Alex grinned at her. ‘I confess to a certain curiosity about Miss Jane Verey! It is stimulating to suspect that I may have met an adversary as devious as I!’

‘No, it is impossible! Not that sweet girl!’

‘Well, we shall see!’

‘How do you intend to go about it?’ Lady Eleanor asked with misgiving.

‘I will make inquiries,’ Alex said slowly, ‘and I intend to meet Miss Verey. I will judge for myself if she be innocent angel or cunning jade!’

‘Oh, Jane, is this not fine?’ Sophia sighed in ecstasy. ‘Such beautiful shops! Why, not even Bath can rival it! I declare, I could spend an entire day just looking!’

Jane stifled a yawn. She already felt as though she had spent a whole day doing precisely that. This had to be the twentieth shop that they had visited that afternoon.

When the shopping trip had been mooted after breakfast, Jane’s brother Simon had looked horrified and had taken refuge at his club. Jane wished that she had a similar choice. It was not that she disliked shopping, precisely-she paused to watch her mother and Sophia agonising between two exquisitely painted fans-it was simply that she grew bored with it so very quickly. The silks and taffetas, slippers and shoes, hats and gloves that so fascinated her friend could not hold her attention for long. Now, if only it had been books…Jane smothered a giggle as she remembered the look of pained disapproval on her mother’s face when she had tentatively suggested that they visit James Lackington’s ‘Temple of the Muses’ in Finsbury Square.

‘Temple of the Muses!’ Lady Verey had repeated. ‘Why, it sounds like a house of ill repute rather than a bookseller’s! I cannot believe it a suitable place for us to visit unescorted!’

So Jane had been obliged to enlist her brother’s help to buy the books she wanted and was denied the pleasure of browsing amongst the galleries of bookshelves and of watching the other bibliophiles thronging Mr Lackington’s ‘lounging-rooms.’

Lady Verey and Sophia had moved on to consider a very pretty straw hat adorned with blue ribbons. Jane’s eye was caught briefly by a silky scarf of emerald green, and she moved over to take a closer look, letting it run through her fingers like water. Beyond the wide bow windows, Charles Street was busy with ladies and gentlemen strolling in the sunshine. Across the road was a spirit booth, with crystal flasks of every shape and form, cunningly lit from behind so that the different coloured spirits sparkled alluringly. Jane smiled. Now there was something worthy of her time; glass and china were fascinating commodities and she hoped to visit Mr Wedgwood’s emporium in Great Newport Street, where she had heard that the displays of china were arranged especially to amuse and intrigue the visitor…

There was a gentleman standing across the road just to the left of the spirit booth. His very stillness caught Jane’s notice and, once she had looked up, she found that his intent gaze appeared to be directed through the bow windows of the shop and fixed upon her person. It was oddly disconcerting, not least because she was certain that she had seen him before. He was very tall and very dark, and his penetrating gaze locked with her own. Suddenly it was as though they were only a matter of feet apart, with no glass window between them, nor bustling street, nor indeed any barrier of any kind. Jane found herself unable to look away and break the spell.

His gaze pinned her to the spot, so searching and intent that Jane felt the colour coming up into her cheeks.

Then a dray cart came between them, the carter shouting to his horses and blocking the view, and Jane drew a shaky breath and turned away from the window.

‘Jane?’ Lady Verey had noticed nothing amiss. ‘Come here, my love, and tell us which is the finer of these two shawls. Sophia has a fancy for the pink with the lace, but I am not sure-’ Her eye fell on the scarf, which Jane was still clutching unknowingly in her left hand.

‘Oh, how pretty! You must have it, my love, for it matches your eyes to perfection! What excellent taste you do have, Jane! Now, tell me what you think of this shawl…’

Both the shop assistant and Sophia were looking at her expectantly. Jane obediently looked where her mother pointed but she was scarcely thinking of fripperies and furbelows.

It was him! she thought, still a little breathless inside. I recognised him. I know it was him.

Gradually her fluttering pulse stilled and her breathing slowed. No doubt she had imagined it. One dark stranger might look very like another and London was full of people. It seemed foolish to think that she would recognise one man, glimpsed four years before at Ambergate and never seen again. All the same…

She was still puzzling over it as they came out of the shop and on to the sunlit pavement.

‘Now then, girls,’ Lady Verey said, shepherding them into the street, ‘the milliner’s is just across from here-’

‘Oh, look, ma’am!’ Sophia exclaimed, clutching Lady Verey’s arm. ‘I did not see those gloves! Oh, they would be perfect for tomorrow night! I positively must have them! Jane-’ she turned anxiously to her friend ‘-you do not mind?’

Jane smiled a little. Sophia would be spending all her allowance in one morning at this rate!

‘I shall wait for you out here in the sun,’ she said. ‘It is a pleasant day and there is no need to hurry.’

‘Stay in sight of the window, Jane,’ Lady Verey instructed, turning to follow Sophia into the shop. ‘I wish to keep you in view. And should anyone accost you, I pray you to come straight back into the shop-’

‘Yes, mama,’ Jane said patiently, gesturing to her mother to follow Sophia. ‘I can come to no harm in full view!’

The shop door closed behind Lady Verey and Jane turned to scan the street. Although her acquaintance in London was still small, she recognised the lady and gentleman who were strolling along the opposite side of the road, for they were neighbours of the Vereys in Portman Square and had been most welcoming. And just beyond them…Jane took an involuntary step forward as she saw the dark gentleman again, pausing before a gunsmith’s, his back turned to her.

There was a sudden, irate shout and she spun around in alarm. A cart was passing close by and she felt her skirts snag on something, tugging hard and catching her off balance. She slipped on the cobbles, her skirt hopelessly entangled in the cart’s left wheel, and felt herself dragged to the ground. It all seemed to happen in the blink of an eye before Jane could scramble back to safety.

‘Oh!’ It was Jane’s dignity that had suffered most, but tears of shock swam in her eyes. Her hands felt bruised from the sudden contact with the ground and she had bumped one knee painfully as she fell. Tumbled in the gutter in a heap of petticoats and rubbish, she struggled to recover herself.

‘Allow me to help you, ma’am.’ A quiet voice spoke in her ear at the same time as the gentleman slid a supportive hand under her elbow and helped her to her feet. ‘Are you injured at all?’

Jane looked up and experienced her second shock. This time there could be no mistake. It was certainly the man that she had seen at Ambergate, though this time more formally dressed in immaculate buckskins, top-boots and a mulberry-coloured jacket. At such close quarters he was disturbingly attractive, a man quite outside Jane’s limited experience. He was certainly handsome, with wicked, dark good looks that quite took her breath away, but there was a rather austere expression in those very dark eyes that contradicted the impression of slightly rakish attraction. There was also an aura of strength about him and an impression of power held under tight control that was instantly reassuring.

He was holding her very gently with an arm supporting her about the waist and there was concern in his face and something else…an extraordinary tenderness, surely, that made Jane feel suddenly faint. She swayed a little and his arm tightened.

‘You should sit down, I think, to recover from the shock. Where did your companions go?’

‘I thank you, sir, I am quite well,’ Jane said shakily, catching sight of her mother’s face peering in horror through the shop window. The carter chose the same moment to start justifying himself to the gathering crowd. His diatribe on foolish young women who did not look where they were going was silenced by one glance from the gentleman.

Jane realised that she was bruised but not badly injured. She felt foolish and embarrassed. She noticed that one of her hands was resting confidingly against the lapel of the mulberry jacket, whilst the gentleman’s arm still held her close. It was most comforting, but surely rather improper. Dark eyes smiled down into her hazel ones. Jane felt her knees tremble again.

‘Thank you for your help, sir,’ she said again, trying to extricate herself. ‘You have been most kind, and I am quite well enough to-’

‘Jane!’ Lady Verey and Sophia came dashing out of the shop, accompanied by the modiste and half of the staff, adding to the confusion on the pavement. The carthorse started to stamp and rear, disturbed by the noise. Sophia helpfully removed a cabbage leaf from her friend’s skirt.

‘Jane!’ Lady Verey said again. ‘Are you hurt? Whatever has happened-’ She broke off, staring in sudden confusion at the gentleman. ‘Your Grace!’

The gentleman removed his arm from Jane’s waist at last and executed a bow. ‘Lady Verey. How do you do, ma’am.’ Jane thought that she could detect the very slightest hint of rueful amusement in his voice. ‘I do not believe that Miss Verey has come to any lasting harm, but perhaps she should be conveyed home for a rest. I shall call a hack for you.’

‘Yes of course, but-’ Lady Verey’s gaze was darting from Jane to her rescuer. ‘I had no notion that you were the gentleman who had come to Jane’s rescue. We had no idea that you were even in Town! Is your brother with you? You must permit us to call and express our sense of obligation-’

‘Of course, ma’am, I should be delighted.’ The gentleman cut her short in the politest, most deferential manner possible. ‘I shall not detain you any longer. Good day…’

He bowed again and the crowd parted to let him pass as though obeying some unspoken authority. The cart pulled away and a hackney cab took its place. Jane, bewildered and shaken, allowed Sophia to help her solicitously inside.

‘Who was that gentleman, ma’am?’ she heard Sophia ask Lady Verey as the cab set off in the direction of Portman Square. ‘He seemed quite…’ Sophia hesitated, but Jane knew just what she meant. The gentleman in question had seemed quite awesome. She felt again the power of his glance, the tender strength with which he had held her. Jane shivered.

‘That was the Duke of Delahaye,’ Lady Verey was saying composedly, ‘the elder brother of Lord Philip. Jane…’ she saw her daughter’s pale, stricken face ‘…are you sure that you are quite well? You must go to bed as soon as we reach home or you will not be well enough for Almack’s this evening! I am sure that the accident must have overset you!’

‘Yes, Mama,’ Jane said submissively. ‘I confess I feel a little shaken.’

‘Well, perhaps we should not go tonight-’ Lady Verey broke off, looking torn. ‘But on the other hand it could be construed as a snub to the patronesses…oh, dear, how provoking! I do not know what to do!’

‘I shall be better directly, Mama!’ Jane said, leaning back and closing her eyes. ‘I pray you, do not consider cancelling our attendance…’

‘I had no notion that the Duke was in Town,’ Lady Verey said, smoothing her gloves. ‘He is seldom in London, you know, for he much prefers the country!’ She frowned. ‘How odd! And how curious that he should be passing just when you fell, Jane!’

Jane, remembering the way in which the Duke of Delahaye had stood watching her from across the road, was tempted to say that he had hardly been passing. She held her peace. The whole episode had been most disconcerting. Why had the Duke been watching her beforehand and what could account for her strange reaction to him? The colour flooded her face as she remembered the sensation of his arm about her. She had met plenty of personable gentlemen in the past week, but never before had she been so aware of a man’s touch. She closed her eyes. It was best to forget it, best to forget him. It seemed that, between them, the Delahaye brothers were causing her nothing but trouble.

It was Simon Verey who heard the rumours first. Whilst the ladies were out shopping he had had a meeting with Pettishaw, his man of business, and had then spent a convivial afternoon with Lord Henry Marchnight, one of his oldest friends. They had met by chance at Tattersall’s and, as the evening advanced, made their way to Brooks.

‘Covered yourself with glory on campaign, I hear,’ Henry said with a lazy grin, after they had tried the claret and considered it more than tolerable. ‘Whatever will you find to do with yourself here that could compare?’

Simon laughed. ‘I intend to enjoy the pleasures of Town for a little, then turn into the complete country squire! Ambergate will be back in good order soon, but I don’t want to be an absentee landlord for too long!’

‘A country squire needs a wife and brood to look the part!’ Henry observed. ‘Plenty of pretty girls out this Season!’

Simon grimaced. ‘So my mama keeps reminding me! She is forever pushing likely heiresses under my nose! It will be a little while yet before I set up my nursery, though I don’t deny I’m looking out for a potential bride!’ He shot his friend a look. ‘If Mama becomes too pressing I suppose I could always offer my hand and heart to Lady Polly Seagrave-’

Lord Henry’s gaze narrowed. ‘She wouldn’t have you! Lady Polly has just turned down her seventh suitor this Season!’

‘And it would be a shame to ruin our good friendship,’ Simon murmured, signalling for more wine.

Lord Henry relaxed infinitesimally. ‘As you say…’

‘Are you settled in Town for the Season or do you travel again?’ Simon thought it wise to turn the conversation away from his friend’s unrequited passion for Lady Polly. The Earl of Seagrave’s daughter had rejected Henry’s plea to elope some three seasons before, but Simon knew that, despite Henry’s apparent indifference, his friend’s feelings were still deeply engaged.

Lord Henry shook his head slightly. ‘My plans are uncertain…I must go abroad again shortly and I think that there may be trouble brewing closer to home but…’ he shrugged ‘…I seldom know where I will be sent from week to week!’

Simon let it pass. He knew that Lord Henry worked for the government in various shadowy capacities and equally knew that his friend wished that to remain a well-kept secret. They paused in their conversation as a couple of slightly inebriated young men staggered past on their way to the card tables.

‘Are you staying for a hand of whist?’ Henry asked.

Simon shook his head. ‘Promised to look in at Almack’s tonight. M’sister and Miss Marchment are making their debut. Bound to be a crush!’ He put his glass down and got to his feet. ‘Damned slow, squiring one’s own sister about Town!’

‘You’re too kind-hearted,’ Henry mocked. ‘Can Miss Marchment be the reason for this generosity?’

Simon stared. ‘Sophia? Hardly!’ He realised that he sounded less than gallant and flushed at the sardonic light in Lord Henry’s eyes. ‘Miss Marchment is a charming girl, but I know her like my own sister and besides…I prefer women a bit more-’

‘Voluptuous?’

‘Intelligent!’ Simon finished, on a note of rebuke. ‘Unfashionable it may be-boring it ain’t!’

‘Miss Verey is highly intelligent,’ Lord Henry murmured.

‘Jane?’ Simon paused. ‘Well, I suppose that she reads a lot-

‘Not just intelligent-clever. Clever enough to evade marrying Philip Delahaye, by my reckoning, and making him look churlish into the bargain!’

Simon sat down again. ‘You’ve lost me, Harry. What are you trying to tell me?’

‘You were still away when Delahaye went to Ambergate to pay court to your sister, weren’t you?’

‘Came back a few weeks later,’ Simon confirmed. ‘Mama said Philip Delahaye had cried off. Jane didn’t seem to mind and I was always a bit uncomfortable about the match, to tell the truth. I knew it was mooted-knew m’father had been keen and that the Duke was pushing for it to go ahead.’ He shifted in his chair. ‘Thought that was the end of the matter.’

Lord Henry shook his head slowly. ‘Better that you hear it from me, Simon, than through rumour and falsehood. There are a hundred-and-one stories circulating about Philip Delahaye’s visit to Ambergate because he arrived and left again so swiftly. Everyone knows that he intended to make Jane an offer and the speculation is all about what made him change his mind. The worst matter is that Philip himself appears to have encouraged the rumours by saying that he cried off because-’

‘Verey!’ Lord Henry had broken off as someone stumbled against Simon’s chair and hailed him at a volume more suited to a hundred yards than the three feet actually involved.

‘Cheriton,’ Simon said, with a cold inclination of the head for the painted dandy before him, ‘how do you do?’

‘Well, old fellow, very well! I’m for Almack’s-I hear that your lovely sister is to be there! I can barely wait to make her acquaintance!’ Lord Cheriton gave a crack of laughter. ‘You will have heard what a fool Philip Delahaye has made of himself by disparaging Miss Verey! The on dit is that Delahaye was so foxed when he arrived at Ambergate that he mistook some pox-faced serving wench for your sister! We had a fine laugh at his description of her! Pudding-faced, freakish, barely literate-’ Cheriton’s shoulders shook. ‘He said that he would rather starve than tie himself to her in marriage! Then Freddie Ponsonby met Miss Verey in Charles Street and said that she was divinely beautiful with a wit to match, don’t you know! Philip could not believe it and swears he’ll be at Almack’s to see for himself! We gave him a roasting he’ll never forget and all he could think of was that he must have confused her with some serving doxy! He was paying his addresses to a damned serving maid!’ Cheriton sauntered away, still chuckling.

The detail might have been confused but the gist of Cheriton’s words was all too clear. Simon was half out of his chair and Henry Marchnight laid a restraining hand on his arm. As was often the way, a hush had fallen over the room as everyone else, sensitive to the slightest scandal, strained to hear what was going on.

‘Simon, think a little!’

Simon sank back into his chair, his face flushed with sudden fury. ‘I suppose that this was what you were about to tell me, Harry? That Philip Delahaye has been bandying my sister’s name about Town-’

‘Well, not precisely…’ Lord Henry bit his lip. Cheriton’s tactless interruption had made it well-nigh impossible for him to explain to Simon that he suspected Jane of tricking Philip Delahaye. Henry had known Jane since childhood and had the greatest respect for her quick mind. As soon as he had heard Philip’s lurid description of his encounter with Miss Verey, Henry had immediately remembered the ugly stepmother of the pantomime held at Ambergate so long ago. After serious consideration, he had thought it only fair to warn Simon. His friend needed to know of Philip’s inexcusable slander, but also to be alerted to the fact that Jane might have deceived him. Matters seemed somewhat delicate. It only needed for Jane and Philip Delahaye to meet for the most almighty row to develop.

As Henry hesitated over his potential disclosure, another voice broke the silence.

‘May I have a moment of your time, gentlemen…?’

Neither Simon nor Lord Henry had noticed the arrival of the newcomer, yet when they looked up they both wondered how they could have missed the atmosphere of tension in the room. The slightly malicious eavesdropping of a few minutes before had given way to something approaching incredulity. Astonishment was mingled with awe. Then Simon caught the whisper:

‘It is the Duke of Delahaye-Alexander Delahaye…’

A faint smile touched Alex’s mouth as he took the third chair at the table. ‘I must apologise for interrupting your conversation, gentlemen, but my business is pressing.’

‘Simon, this is Alex Delahaye,’ Henry murmured, covertly assessing the interest they were arousing from their peers and smiling wryly. Any minute now, Cheriton would be offering to serve the wine in his attempts to overhear. ‘Alex, Simon Verey. Forgive my informality but I guessed that you would wish to cut straight to your business!’

The two men shook hands. ‘You were correct, Harry,’ Alex said drily. ‘A pleasure to meet you, Lord Verey. I have heard a great deal about your exploits on campaign. Just now, however, there are matters closer to home that demand our attention! Have you, perhaps, heard the rumours?’

‘Heard about them just this instant,’ Simon confirmed grimly. ‘A small misunderstanding over your brother’s courtship of m’sister!’

‘You are all generosity to describe it thus,’ Alex said ruefully. ‘I am most concerned to avoid any further cause for general speculation. The rumours are highly coloured and as inaccurate as these things usually are! My major preoccupation, however, is that Philip is to be at Almack’s tonight, where, I understand, he will undoubtedly meet Miss Verey again. I do not wish it to be turned into a public spectacle!’ He cast a quick look round the crowded room and drew his chair in closer. ‘Every ear in the place is strained to overhear us, I see!’

‘They’re taking bets,’ Henry said cheerfully. ‘Evens on a public row in Almack’s, two to one that Miss Verey will cut Lord Philip dead and twenty to one that Philip’s description was accurate after all-saving your presence, Simon!’

Both Simon and Alex Delahaye winced.

‘How did this happen in the first place?’ Simon demanded. ‘Pudding-faced, freakish, illiterate…Those were Cheriton’s words and, devil take it, there’s no smoke without fire! Your brother must have been damned disparaging, Delahaye!’

Alex gave him an enigmatic glance. ‘I confess that that is one aspect of the case that does interest me. Without a doubt, Philip has been more outspoken in his opinions than he should have been, although I am persuaded that the ton has far exaggerated his comments and turned the whole thing into a bear garden. But having met your sister, Lord Verey, I can see that the description could not be less appropriate!’

Simon grinned, not noticing that he had been deflected from his original question. ‘Well, for all that I’m her brother, I can see that Jane’s grown into a devilish attractive girl! The only effect of this is to make your brother look foolish, Delahaye!’

‘Absolutely,’ Alex Delahaye murmured. He drained his glass. ‘I hope that Philip will accept that he has only himself to blame. But in case he does not, I believe we should have a plan.’

Henry raised a brow. ‘You mean to stage a diversion, distract attention?’

‘Precisely. If we three go to Almack’s, make an entrance, draw attention to ourselves and spike Philip’s guns, I think that we may successfully defuse the situation. What do you say? It is almost eleven and they will be closing the doors on us if we are not careful!’

There was general acquiescence to the plan.

‘I did not think to see you turning your attention to domestic disputes, Alex!’ Lord Henry said pensively, as they got up to leave. Alex flashed him a smile of genuine amusement.

‘More difficult than diplomacy between nations, Harry, I assure you!’

‘I had no notion that the two of you were in the same line of business,’ Simon observed quietly to Henry as Alex paused for a word with an old friend on his way to the door.

‘Oh, Alex is way above my humble station,’ Henry said cheerfully, eyes twinkling, ‘but keep it to yourself, old fellow! He wouldn’t thank me for giving the game away!’

‘He is somewhat forceful,’ Simon said, with a grin. ‘I imagine it would be uncomfortable to be in opposition to him!’

Lord Henry held his tongue. He could have said that Miss Jane Verey was the only person he knew who had successfully opposed the Duke of Delahaye’s plans. Despite Alex’s self-proclaimed desire to prevent further gossip, Henry reckoned that he had a secondary motive. He was almost certain that Alex intended to get to the bottom the mystery of Jane’s apparent change of appearance and personality. Stifling a grin, he found himself possessed of a sudden, surprising enthusiasm to visit Almack’s again. He had a healthy regard for Jane Verey’s wit and charm, but if they were placing bets on who would prevail in this struggle, his money would have to be on Alex Delahaye every time.