Elegance and Grace Read online

  Ros sensed that Jemima had found a purpose, felt useful for the first time in her life, and was determined to see the matter through. He sensed too that there was friction between Jemima and Annabel—differences that were long overdue for resolution. The sisters were not close and he wondered what had happened to drive a wedge between them. Jemima wasn’t the type to be jealous of her sister’s beauty and popularity—it had to be something more fundamental than that. Perhaps this would give Jemima the opportunity to clear the air and bridge the divide. Ros would do everything within his power to ensure that she remained involved, regardless of Aitken’s opposition, if only so that she could mend fences with her sister.

  Quite apart from anything else, any room was enlivened by Jemima’s presence within it. She had a quick mind, didn’t shock easily, often made sensible suggestions and amused him with the manner in which she expressed her forthright views. She was a breath of fresh air that Ros would never tire of breathing in.

  ‘Careful,’ he told his reflection. ‘Won’t do to get too involved with the chit.’

  He returned to Grosvenor Square at the appropriate hour, found Lord Riley Rochester already there and was pleased to make his acquaintance. Although young, there was a maturity about him, a sense of integrity that made a favourable impression upon Ros, even before they had shaken hands. He wondered what Aitken would make of having another outsider involved, even though he had given tacit approval to his inclusion before Annabel had been found. Aitken was a seasoned politician, so it followed that he would have changed his mind by now and would raise all sorts of objections to any plans that would weaken the government’s stand on the Irish affair.

  Of the ladies there was no sign, but Jake informed them that Annabel had regained her senses.

  ‘She has been given something to make her sleep but she exchanged a few words with her sister before that and there is every reason to suppose that no lasting harm has been done—to her memory, at least.’

  ‘That is good news,’ Ros said, accepting a glass of whisky from Parker with a nod of thanks and savouring its rich, peaty taste.

  Aitken arrived shortly afterwards, looking uncharacteristically harried. Well, Ros thought, if this business wasn’t enough to shake him out of his emotionless implacability then he was damned if he knew what would be. When told the news of Annabel’s recovery, he looked relieved but did not insist upon seeing her when Jake told him that she was sleeping. Nor, Ros noticed, did he ask after Jemima.

  ‘Did you father want to know where you were dining this evening?’ Jake asked, addressing the remark to Riley.

  ‘I have barely seen him, sir.’ Riley looked completely unconcerned by his father’s absences. ‘He spends his time at his clubs, and other places.’

  From which Ros surmised that he had found a replacement for the lamented Connie. Life went on.

  The ladies joined them and Ros was taken by Jemima’s elegant and graceful deportment as she glided into the room. She wore a becoming gown of soft pink silk that fitted her svelte form a little too well for Ros’s comfort, drawing attention to the trimness of her figure and the creamy skin of her bare shoulders and décolletage. Ros made a valiant attempt not to stare. Instead he deliberately took her withered left hand and bowed over it.

  ‘Ravishing,’ he said softly, looking up at her through eyes that probably reflected the nature of his thoughts.

  ‘Goodness,’ she replied in an undertone. ‘I cannot begin to imagine what you mean by that remark.’

  ‘I think you understand me very well but I am perfectly willing to explain myself, if you would prefer it.’

  The chit had the temerity to send him a challenging smile. ‘I wish you would.’ She glanced around the room and blushed. ‘Everyone is looking at us,’ she hissed.

  Ros chuckled and reluctantly released her hand. He watched as Lord Riley was introduced to her and she make her curtsey, whereupon the young man engaged her in polite conversation. Ros felt a moment’s envy at their easy manner, aware that Riley was considerably closer to her age than Ros himself was. But there again, Riley was simply falling back on his training, Ros managed to convince himself, and behaving in a gentlemanly fashion. He was far too young to be thinking about anything more enduring, and even if he was, it was none of Ros’s affair.

  Aitken he noticed, had barely troubled to acknowledge Jemima. After their previous meeting, when her attempts to show affection towards her father had been rebuffed, she had clearly learned her lesson and remained cool towards him, almost indifferent.

  Good girl!

  ‘I regret that I am unable to accept your invitation to dine with you, Lady Torbay,’ Aitken said. ‘I am required later in the House for an important vote.’ Everyone looked at him askance.

  ‘That is more important to you than Annabel’s welfare?’ Jemima asked scathingly.

  ‘I am told that Annabel will sleep until the morning. There is little that can be done until we know precisely what happened to her.’

  Ros thought there was a great deal of planning that could not be achieved in the small amount of time that Aitken was prepared to dedicate to it, but it was not his place to say so.

  ‘Even so…’

  Jemima fixed a reproving look upon her father and allowed her words to trail off. Ros sensed that she had always admired his dedication and had been making excuses for his neglect of his family in favour of his career for years. But, given the seriousness of her sister’s situation, she now found it impossible to defend the fact that duty still came first.

  ‘Three-line whip, I’m afraid,’ Aitken told them all, avoiding Jemima’s gaze and having the grace to look abashed. ‘Can’t get out of it.’ And probably would not, Ros thought, even if he could. ‘Then I ought to go home to my wife. She too has been sedated at my request. That way she doesn’t keep asking for Annabel or wondering what has become of Jemima.’ He glowered at Jemima as though he blamed her for his domestic disharmony. Ros wanted to grab him by the lapels and shake him until his teeth rattled. Instead, he calmly took a sip of his drink and said nothing, content to bide his time. ‘If you wouldn’t mind, perhaps we could discuss what we know now.’

  Jake nodded. ‘By all means.’

  As soon as the ladies had seated themselves, Aitken fell into a chair. Ros selected a position from which he would have a clear view of Jemima’s reactions to the ensuing discussion. He swished the short tails of his coat aside and sat, conscious of Jemima watching him. He winked at her and enjoyed seeing colour invade her cheeks. The child was probably furious at her inability to control her blushes. Ros thought it an endearing habit and hoped that she never learned to contain them.

  ‘What did Annabel say to you, Jemima?’ Aitken asked.

  Jemima winced at his astringent tone but dutifully relayed the essence of their conversation in a tone devoid of all emotion.

  ‘She was evasive,’ she ended her account by saying, ‘but there can be no doubt that she met Quinn on the heath by prior arrangement.’

  Aitken frowned, shook his head and ran a hand down his face, showing emotion for the first time, albeit fleetingly. He was in control of himself again by the time Jemima resumed speaking, his face the unreadable mask of a seasoned politician.

  ‘Whether or not she planned to leave with him, or whether he forced her to, I cannot say. We did not get that far. But she is convinced that they were engaged to be married and so…well—’ Jemima blushed furiously. ‘I don’t think she would have let matters get so far out of hand otherwise. Unless, of course, she had been drugged at that point and knew nothing about it. Anyway, she said it was necessary to keep the arrangement—their engagement that is—a secret because you would not approve, Papa.’

  ‘I would have forbidden the match,’ he said with determination. ‘The cad used her for his own purposes.’ He firmed his jaw. ‘Political purposes. But I would not expect Annabel to realise that.’

  ‘From which we must conclude that Quinn want
ed things to go as far as they have,’ Jake said. ‘Perhaps he wanted you to find out, sir,’ he added, nodding towards Aitken. ‘If you knew your daughter had been compromised then you would be within your rights to demand that Quinn do the right thing by her. And he would, too, because that would make your position within the government untenable and—’

  ‘And I would have to resign.’ Aitken gave a sour smile. ‘Thereby removing one of the main obstacles to his ambitions.’ He nodded. ‘Quite so. Damned knave is more desperate than I realised.’

  ‘You imagine, I suppose, Jake, that he changed his plan and tried to poison the girl because he saw that as a better way of manipulating my father,’ Ros said. ‘The pater is the one encouraging other landowners to follow their consciences and help their tenants to recover rather than evict them when they are unable to pay their rents. His voice is growing in strength and others are being shamed into following his lead, albeit reluctantly. If father withdrew, the rest would follow, the tenants would rise up and Quinn would have his rebellion.’

  ‘Very likely,’ Jake agreed, draining his glass and signalling to Parker for a refill.

  ‘But if he had someone watching your rooms, Lord Glynde, he will know by now that his plan failed,’ Lady Torbay said, ‘and will be desperate for news of Annabel.’

  Jake sent his wife a tender smile. ‘Which is why it would be unreasonable of us to withhold that news from him,’ he said in a suave tone.

  ‘When my father and I receive an invitation to your party, Lady Torbay,’ Riley said, ‘you want me to say that I am anxious to attend and argue my case for Irish rights with Mr Aitken, whom I have been told will be in attendance.’

  ‘We need to be more subtle than that,’ Jake said. ‘I suggest that you tell your father you ran into me by chance tonight and that I issued the invitation verbally. You might also mention that the Irish situation interests you and that you would like to hear both sides of the argument.’

  ‘And I would too,’ Riley said, nodding. ‘The pater will boast about his acquaintanceship with Quinn and I will suggest that he invites him along. It’s an informal affair, Quinn’s company is increasingly sought after and Lady Torbay will think it quite a coup if he deigns to grace her drawing room.’

  Lady Torbay smiled. ‘I won’t think any such thing, but no one will know it from my behaviour, I can assure you of that much.’

  ‘Quinn will come, especially if he knows I will be here and that Annabel might still be beneath this roof,’ Aitken said. ‘But does that get us any further forward? How will we get him to admit to his actions? Not that we want him to or, as you suggest, he might offer to marry Annabel and I simply won’t allow her to throw herself away on the knave.’ He thumped the arm of his chair. ‘There must be another way to get him to hang himself with his own words.’

  ‘Let me tackle him,’ Ros said, relishing the challenge. ‘It is my father whom he most particularly wants to influence, and he probably knows that the pater listens to my advice. Besides, he left your daughter to die in my rooms. This is now personal.’

  ‘You might pretend to be experiencing financial hardship, accounting for your engagement in Westminster,’ Jake suggested. ‘After all, most heirs in your position would be learning the ropes at home and not bothering themselves with paid employment.’

  ‘And see if he offers me a bribe?’ Ros lifted one shoulder. ‘It’s worth a try, although I doubt whether such an obvious ploy will succeed. The man is wilier than a cat and has not risen to such an influential position so quickly by being easily gulled.’

  Having informed them all of what Annabel had said, Jemima had remained silent, although Ros could see that she had been following the discussion closely.

  ‘I understand that Quinn has singled Annabel out at several soirees,’ Lady Torbay remarked. ‘It is not unreasonable to suppose that he will enquire after her, Mr Aitken, especially since Jemima will be here. He will know why Annabel is not in attendance, of course, and will want to see what explanation you give.’

  ‘He’ll get nothing out of me.’ Aitken looked fierce as he turned his attention towards Jemima. ‘But you are another matter. You cannot be here. You will be no match for him and he will get the truth out of you, or try to persuade you that he’s in love with your sister and implore you to take him to see her. I cannot run that risk.’

  ‘What risk, Papa?’ Jemima sat forward in her chair, clenching and unclenching her withered hand.

  ‘Annabel is weak and vulnerable. I will not have her overset.’

  Ros inwardly seethed and wanted to intercede, assuming that eighteen years of obedience would prevent Jemima from defending herself. He almost smiled when she quickly proved him wrong.

  ‘Since concern for my welfare is not causing you any additional anxiety, I fail to see why I should not be here,’ she said in a cold voice that actually seemed to shock Aitken. ‘Indeed, perhaps we should grant him access to Annabel. If he thinks they are alone, she will talk to him about their supposed engagement and subsequent intimacies. If several witnesses are in the adjoining chamber, he won’t be able to deny the conversation and he will be finished.’

  ‘Revealing what he has done will ruin what’s left of my daughter’s reputation. He knows I will not take that chance.’ Aitken shook his head decisively. ‘Besides, he might make another attempt on her life.’

  ‘He isn’t a fool,’ Ros said sharply. ‘He won’t risk committing a violent act if there is the slightest possibility of it being traced back to him.’

  Aitken withdrew a half-hunter from his waistcoat pocket, checked the time and stood. ‘I have to go. Perhaps we can reconsider in the morning, after Annabel has told us everything she knows. I will call to see her and talk to her myself.’

  He took his leave of Jake and his countess, nodded to Ros and Riley and barely spared a glance for Jemima.

  ‘That went well,’ Ros said, smiling at Jemima.

  He could see that she was angry and upset, but they were not alone and there was nothing he could do to cajole her back into a more congenial frame of mind. Dinner was announced, and she seemed to recover a little of her spirit as they ate and the conversation turned more general. He hated to see the manner in which she tried to cut her food, a fork held awkwardly in her withered hand to anchor whatever she attempted to slice into. He noticed that she selected mostly soft foods from the platters available that required little effort to cut. It did not need to be that way and he vowed to find a way to convince her accordingly.

  His opportunity came when the gentlemen finished their port and rejoined the ladies in the drawing room. It was a warm spring evening and Jemima had wandered outside, through the open French doors. Ros followed her and found her leaning on the balustrade, looking up at the sky. He joined her there but said nothing, waiting for her to set the tone of their conversation.

  ‘Are you going to try and persuade me that I cannot contribute anything as well?’ she asked, her tone combative.

  ‘Actually, quite the reverse.’

  She turned to glare at him, her turquoise eyes flashing with suspicion. ‘What do you mean by that?’

  ‘It seems to me that you are vital to the success of our admittedly rather tenuous plan.’

  ‘It what way?’

  ‘In getting your sister to tell the truth.’

  She sighed. ‘Ah, that.’

  ‘Precisely, that. I hope you will excuse me if I speak bluntly.’

  ‘I would prefer it.’

  ‘Well then, I get the impression that Annabel is never in the wrong.’

  Jemima rolled her eyes. ‘How perceptive of you.’

  ‘And furthermore, I suspect you are one of the few people who will not settle for evasion and half-truths on her part. In other words, you know her too well to allow her to be untruthful.’

  She looked up at him with the dawning of realisation in her expression. ‘You see a lot.’

  ‘Your father has expressed his inten
tion of returning here in the morning and talking with her. Until he has done that he is not sure about attending Lady Torbay’s party.’

  ‘That doesn’t signify.’ A cloud passed across the moon and she stared up to watch its progress. ‘In fact, it might be easier without him. If Lord Riley makes sure that Quinn is invited, and if Quinn knows that Annabel is still here, he will come. He cannot afford not to. He will be desperate to know how much she recalls and what she has said.’ She paused. ‘Would it be such a bad thing if he was forced to marry Annabel? Politically, I mean? I am not thinking about their compatibility or his ability to make my sister happy. That would be a hard ambition for any man to achieve. Besides, they have made their bed, so to speak…’

  ‘It would cause embarrassment to the coalition if your father was forced to resign. It would also cast suspicion upon his allegiance, although we both know it has never been in doubt.’

  Jemima offered him a shrewd look. ‘It is about the only aspect of this sorry affair that is not in dispute. Papa’s first thought will always be for his career. He cannot seem to help himself. You know,’ she added, turning to give him her full attention, ‘he spoke to me the other day for the first time as though he looked upon me as an adult. He told me things that I knew nothing about. I thought we had crossed a divide and that he would use me as a confidante in the future, but it now seems as though he regrets his behaviour and is stiffer and more formal in his attitude towards me than ever. Whenever he remembers that he has two daughters and not just the one and speaks to me at all, that is.’

  Ros’s heart went out to her when she put up her chin and pretended not to care. ‘He does not deserve you,’ he said, unable to help running one hand softly along her shoulder and down the soft, supple skin of her upper arm. She shuddered at his touch but did not pull away.

  ‘Papa knows that he was a consolation prize as far as Mama is concerned. She had her sights set on Lord Torbay. They were neighbours and friends during their youth. But, of course, your friend Jake was not heir to the earldom then, he had an elder brother. Mama was determined to snag an earl or better, so she made a play for the brother, even though it was Jake she really wanted. The brother died unexpectedly and the present Lord Torbay was not deceived when my mother renewed her interest in him the moment he inherited.’