wandered over to greet some friends. Horatia had seen him strolling down one of the paths with Sir Harry Topham, a racing crony. Twenty minutes later she had seen him again, but not with Sir Harry. He was in the Lover’s Walk (which made it worse) and standing very close to him and looking up at him in the most melting way was Lady Massey. Even as Horatia caught sight of them the Massey put up her hands to Rule’s shoulders.
Horatia had whisked round and declared her intention of walking down quite another path. Miss Lloyd and Pelham had fallen behind; probably Mr Dashwood had not observed the Earl. She had him away from the fatal spot in a trice so that she did not see her husband remove Lady Massey’s hands from his shoulders.
No one could have been in greater spirits than my Lady Rule for the rest of that horrid evening. Several people remarked on it, and Mr Dashwood thought her more entrancing than ever.
But when Rule visited her room next morning and sat down on the edge of her bed while she drank her chocolate he found her in a wayward mood. Go to Meering? Oh, no, she could not! Why, she had a hundred engagements and it would be dreadfully dull in the country.
“That is not very complimentary of you,” Rule said, half smiling.
“Well, but Rule, you are only g-going for a week, I daresay, and think how tiresome to pack for such a short stay! Of c-course I shall come with you after the Newmarket m-meet-ing, if we d-don’t go to Bath.”
“I would very much rather you come with me now, Horry.”
“Very w-well,” Horatia said, in the voice of a martyr. “If you say I m-must, I will.”
He got up. “Heaven forbid, my dear!”
“R-Rule, if you feel cross about it, please tell me! I d-don’t want to be a b-bad wife.”
“Do I look cross?” he inquired.
“N-no, but I never can tell what you think by l-looking at you,” said Horatia candidly.
He laughed. “Poor Horry, it must be very difficult for you. Stay in town, my dear. You are probably quite right. Arnold will make me attend to business at Meering.” He put a finger under her chin, and tilted it up. “Don’t game all my fortune away while I am gone, will you?” he said teasingly.
“No, of c-course not. I will be very g-good. And you need not be afraid that I shall encourage Lord Lethbridge, for Louisa told me all about him and I quite see that I m-mustn’t know him.”
“I am not afraid of that,” he answered, and bent and kissed her.
Chapter Fourteen
So the Earl of Rule went away to Meering accompanied only by Mr Gisborne, while his wife stayed in London and tried to convince herself that she did not miss him at all. If she was not successful in this, at least nobody could have suspected it from her demeanour. Since the big house in Grosvenor Square seemed unbearably empty without his lordship Horatia spent as much of her time as she could away from it. No one meeting her at all the card- parties, routs, drums, and picnics that she attended could have supposed her to be pining most unfashionably for her own husband. In fact, her sister Charlotte said severely that her frivolity was excessively unbecoming.
Lord Lethbridge she had no difficulty in keeping at arm’s length. They naturally met at a great many parties, but his lordship, finding that Horatia was civil but very formal, seemed to accept with equanimity his relegation to the ranks of her merest acquaintance and made no attempt to win her over again. Horatia put him out of her life without much regret. Glamour might still have clung to a rakehell who abducted noble damsels, but no glamour remained about a man who had been pushed into a pond in full ball-dress. Horatia, sorry only that she never had played cards with him, discarded him without a pang, and proceeded to forget about him.
She was succeeding admirably when he forced himself on her notice again in a manner as unexpected as it was outrageous.
A charming entertainment was held at Richmond House, with dancing and fireworks. Never was there so elegantly contrived a party. The gardens were brightly illuminated, supper spread in the apartments, and the fireworks let off from a platform of barges anchored in the river to the admiration of the guests and all the unbidden spectators who crowded every nearby house. At midnight a shower of rain came, but since by that time all the fireworks had been finished, it could not be thought to signify, and the guests retired to the ball-room for the dancing.
Horatia left the party early. It had been pretty to see the fireworks, but she found that she did not care to dance. For this a new pair of diamond-embroidered shoes was partly responsible. They pinched her abominably, and nothing, she discovered, could so effectually ruin one’s enjoyment as an uncomfortable shoe. Her coach was called for shortly after twelve, and resisting all the entreaties of Mr Dashwood, she departed.
She decided she must have attended too many balls, for certainly she had found this one almost tedious. It was really very difficult to dance and chatter gaily when one was all the time wondering what a large, sleepily smiling gentleman was doing miles away in Berkshire. It was apt to make one
The coach drew up and she opened her eyes with a start. It was raining quite fast now, and the footman was holding an umbrella to protect his mistress’s finery. The rain seemed to have extinguished the flambeaux that always burned in iron brackets at the foot of the steps leading up to the front door. It was quite dark, the clouds obscuring what had been a fine moon.
Horatia drew her cloak, an affair of white taffeta with a collar of puffed muslin, tightly round her, and holding her skirts up in one hand, stepped down on to the wet pavement. The footman held the umbrella well over her, and she sped quickly up the steps to the open door.
In her hurry she was over the threshold before she realized her mistake. She gave a gasp and stared round her. She was standing in a narrow hall-way, not in her own house, nor any like it, and the lackey, even now in the act of shutting the door, was no servant of Rule’s.
She turned quickly. “There is a m-mistake,” she said. “Open the d-door, please!”
A step sounded behind her; she looked over her shoulder and saw Lord Lethbridge.
“A thousand welcomes, my lady!” Lethbridge said, and flung open the door of the saloon. “Pray enter!”
She stood perfectly still, dawning anger struggling with the bewilderment in her face. “I don’t understand!” she said. “What does this m-mean, sir?”
“Why, I will tell you, ma’am, but pray come in!” Lethbridge said.
She was aware of the silent lackey behind her; one could not make a scene before servants. After a moment’s hesitation, she walked forward, and into the saloon.
It was lit by a great many candles, and at one end of the room a table was laid with a cold supper. Horatia frowned. “If you are giving a p-party, sir, I assure you I was not invited, and d-don’t mean to stay,” she announced.
“It is not a party,” he replied, shutting the door. “It’s for you and me, my dear.”
“You must be mad!” said Horatia, gazing at him in perplexity. “Of c-course I would never c-come to supper with you alone! If you asked me, I vow I never knew of it, and I c-can’t imagine why my coachman set me down here.”
“I didn’t ask you, Horry. I planned it as a little surprise for you.”
“Then it was a great piece of impertinence!” said Horatia. “I suppose you b-bribed my coachman? Well, you may escort me out to the coach again, sir, at once!”
He laughed. “Your coach, my dear, has gone, and your coachman and groom are lying under a table in a tavern off Whitehall. My own men conveyed you here. No, do you not agree that I planned it very neatly?”
Wrath blazed in Horatia’s eyes.” I think it was m-monstrous of you!” she said. “Do you m-mean to tell me you had the audacity to overpower my servants?”
