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‘I did, but thankfully his fever broke last night,’ Valbourg said. ‘He will likely be weak for a few more days, but Tennison said he should make a full recovery.’
‘Thank goodness. I know how worried you were about him.’ Mary hesitated a moment before adding, ‘Still no regrets about having him come to live with you?’
‘Not a one.’
‘Then you don’t mind living the life of a monk? Sorry, dearest. Hugh’s words, not mine,’ Mary said with a smile. ‘But I don’t suppose they’re all that far off the mark. Everyone knows how much you’ve changed your life to accommodate Sebastian’s arrival and I really couldn’t blame you for feeling a little put out. I understand your evening entertainment is now restricted to tame forms of cards and the company of safely married couples.’
‘Dear God, have I truly become so boring?’
‘I’m afraid so. And we all know you’ve Dorothy to thank for that.’
Yes, because when his eldest sister Dorothy had heard that Valbourg was assuming responsibility for Sebastian’s upbringing, she had bluntly called it the most idiotic idea she had ever heard. It didn’t matter that Sarah had asked him, rather than Dorothy or, God forbid, Hugh, to care for Sebastian in the event something should happen to her and her husband. Dorothy maintained it was ridiculous that a man who was only concerned with drinking and whoring should be responsible for the well-being of a child. Even their father had suggested it might be in everyone’s best interests if Sebastian went to live with Dorothy and her husband, given that they already had a son and a daughter in the nursery.
But Valbourg had stood firm. He informed them he had given Sarah his word that he would honour her request and honour it he would. For the most part, he just ignored Dorothy hovering in the background like a dark foreboding cloud.
And then, as though summoned by the mention of her name, Dorothy appeared, drab in a fawn-coloured gown that did nothing for her complexion or her figure.
Not, Valbourg reflected, that his eldest sister had been particularly blessed in either regard. ‘Good evening, Dorothy.’
‘Valbourg,’ she said, adding with a brisk nod, ‘Mary.’
‘Hello, Dorothy. I was beginning to wonder whether or not you were coming.’
‘I was delayed by a crisis below stairs,’ Dorothy said. ‘Some scandal involving one of the maids. Mrs Plinkin came to see me about it just as I was leaving. I told her I had neither the time nor the patience to deal with it and that she should just get rid of the girl.’
‘Compassionate, as always,’ Valbourg murmured.
‘Don’t take that tone with me, Brother,’ Dorothy snapped. ‘I don’t want my children exposed to behaviour like that under my own roof. Speaking of servants, I really must talk to Papa about his new valet. The man is rude and condescending and needs to be taught his place. But I suppose that is what you invite when you hire an Irishman.’
‘I don’t know why you would say that,’ Mary objected. ‘I find Tully very pleasant to deal with.’
‘Of course, because you find everyone pleasant. It is the reason you will fail so miserably as a wife,’ Dorothy stated. ‘Servants need to be taught their place. You do that by maintaining a firm hand. I don’t care if my servants like me. All I require is their obedience and their willingness to work hard.’
‘Which I am sure they do,’ Valbourg remarked. ‘But if Mary’s servants work hard it will be because they like and respect her, not because they are afraid of her. As for her new role, I have no doubt she will make Tyne an excellent wife.’
‘Of course I will,’ Mary said, stung by her sister’s criticism. ‘I love him and he loves me.’
‘Love,’ Dorothy said with a sneer. ‘A highly overrated emotion that serves as no useful foundation for marriage whatsoever. You would have been better off accepting Lord Troon’s proposal.’
‘Troon? The man is sixty if he’s a day,’ Mary said, incredulous. ‘And he is not at all handsome.’
‘Handsome? Of what value are looks when in twenty years’ time they will have vanished, leaving you shackled to a man with whom you likely have nothing in common and with no financial recompense to salve your wounds for being so silly as to accept his proposal in the first place. At least Troon is a worthy catch. He is heir to a dukedom.’
Mary blinked at the harshness of her sister’s reply, but Valbourg simply smiled. ‘I shouldn’t worry about it, Mary. Tyne may not be as wealthy as Troon, but I suspect his looks will last far longer so that even in thirty years’ time, you will have no reason to regret your decision to marry him.’
‘Oh, yes, be sarcastic if you like, but people would do a lot better if they made decisions based on logic rather than emotion,’ Dorothy said. ‘Speaking of which, when do you intend to do your duty and settle down, Brother? You are past thirty now and responsible for the welfare of a young boy. No doubt you would both benefit from the influence of a sensible woman in your lives.’
‘Is that a criticism of the way I am raising Sebastian?’ Valbourg enquired, unwilling to let the remark pass.
‘Not at all. Much to my surprise, you have cast off your dissolute ways and emerged a surprisingly respectable man,’ Dorothy said. ‘But it is past time you gave some serious thought to settling down. You are Papa’s heir, after all.’
Valbourg’s sarcastic rejoinder was lost in the burst of applause that greeted Catherine as she finished her song. He looked up in time to see her execute a graceful curtsy, and though her face was lightly flushed and her blue eyes still sparkled, he could see how weary she was. And why not? It was nearly three in the morning and she had already performed her required six songs as well as three encores. It was time to pay the girl and send her home.
‘Come, Mary,’ Valbourg said. ‘If you wish to meet Miss Jones, now would be the time.’
‘Meet her?’ Dorothy’s pencil-thin eyebrows rose. ‘Why on earth would you wish to meet her?’
‘Because she was kind enough to come here and sing for our guests,’ Mary said.
‘Are you not paying Miss Jones for her time, Valbourg?’
‘Of course.’
‘Then let that be an end of it. One must be careful around women like that, Mary,’ Dorothy warned. ‘Flattery goes to their heads. Gives them airs. Worse, Miss Jones may think Valbourg is interested in her and he certainly doesn’t need that kind of complication in his life. No, tell Harrison to give the girl her money and send her on her way. Now, if you will excuse me, I shall go and have a word with Papa. See if I can talk some sense into him before the Irishman robs him blind.’
With a curt nod, Dorothy left, taupe-coloured feathers bending in the breeze.
Mary leaned over and whispered in Valbourg’s ear, ‘Is it truly awful to admit that one doesn’t care much for one’s sister?’
‘Not as awful as it is honest.’
‘It doesn’t seem very charitable.’
‘Honesty seldom is,’ Valbourg said in a wry tone. ‘Come, let us speak to Miss Jones while the Dragon is otherwise engaged.’
* * *
They lined up to speak to her. Knights and their ladies, barons and their baronesses, even a viscount and his viscountess—all took a moment to express their admiration of her voice. Only one crusty old earl and his equally crusty countess left without acknowledging her, but Catherine took the snub in her stride. The majority of guests had been kind enough to speak with her, rendering unimportant the few who were not.
The gentlemen, of course, suffered no such inhibitions. Anxious to convey their compliments, they all rushed forward, asking if they might fetch a plate of refreshments or assist her to a chair. Catherine accepted Mr Brinkley’s offer of a glass of wine and Lord Styles’s insistence on a small plate of food, but the other offers she kindly but firmly refused. All she wanted to do now was go home. She had enjoyed performing for Lady Mary, but the euphoria was wearing off and it was only a matter of time before weariness rushed in to take its place. She wanted to be home in her own bed before that happened. She had to be up again in a few hours.
Suddenly, a path opened and Lord Valbourg, Lady Mary Nelson and her fiancé, Lord Tyne, approached. Valbourg and his sister made a striking pair, Catherine noted. Both so beautiful and blessed with all the good things life had to offer. Oblivious to the darker, more insidious side of human nature—
‘Miss Jones, I cannot thank you enough for coming to sing for us tonight,’ Lady Mary said, taking both of Catherine’s hands in hers. ‘I see why they call you the Angel of London, for truly God’s own choir could not contain a more divine voice.’
‘Thank you, my lady,’ Catherine said, genuinely touched by the woman’s charity. ‘It was a pleasure to sing for you and Lord Tyne, and I am so glad you enjoyed it.’
‘We did. My brother, too,’ Lady Mary said, reaching for Valbourg’s arm. ‘“The True Lover’s Farewell” is one of our family’s favourites. Mama used to sing it to my sister and I before we went to bed.’
‘I’m so pleased. Is your sister here?’ Catherine asked, glancing around the room for a younger version of Lady Mary. ‘I don’t believe we have been introduced.’
She turned back in time to catch the look that passed between brother and sister and wondered if she had said something wrong. Seconds later, she realised she had when Valbourg said, ‘Sadly, my sister is no longer with us. She passed away two years ago.’
Catherine’s eyes widened in dismay. So, all was not blissful in the house of Alderbury. Tragedy had touched this golden family, stealing one of their own and leaving an empty place in their hearts. ‘I am so sorry,’ she whispered. ‘I would not have performed the song, had I known.’
‘But you did not and therefore owe us no apology,’ Valbourg said. ‘I doubt there is a song in the world that doesn’t evoke poignant memories for someone.’
That might be true, but it did not take away from the fact that she had been the one to bring those painful memories back, Catherine thought regretfully. She might not know Valbourg well, but she sensed he was a man who betrayed little of his feelings, yet felt them keenly, especially when it came to his family.
‘Will you take some refreshment, Miss Jones?’ Lady Mary asked, forcing a cheery note into her voice. ‘Valbourg told me you came here straight from your performance at the Gryphon.’
‘Thank you, but I’m really not hungry,’ Catherine replied. ‘Lord Styles has gone to fetch a plate, but at the risk of sounding rude, I would rather go home. It is late and I have an early rehearsal in the morning.’
‘Of course. How selfish of us to keep you here talking. Val, have arrangements been made for Miss Jones’s transportation?’
‘Indeed. I shall go and see to the carriage now.’
‘Oh, please don’t bother,’ Catherine said quickly. ‘As I said before, I am quite capable of travelling around London on my own.’
‘And as I said earlier, that will not be necessary. It is late and you have been kind enough to perform at my sister’s betrothal celebration,’ Valbourg said. ‘I suspect Theo Templeton would have something to say if I did not take the very best care of you.’
Catherine lowered her eyes, as much to hide her confusion as to acknowledge the unexpected kindness. What was wrong with her? It had been years since a gentleman’s words had brought colour rushing to her cheeks, but Valbourg had done it several times this evening, and with no effort at all.
She would have to be careful. While he might not approve of her, he nevertheless aroused feelings Catherine thought gone for ever; feelings that had lain dormant since Will’s death. It was unsettling to discover they had simply been...misplaced.
Especially now when she was so close to achieving her goal of regaining custody of her son. To forfeit that now through a careless or unguarded action would be the height of folly and something for which she would never forgive herself.
‘Well, I suppose we should be returning to our guests,’ Lady Mary said to her fiancé.
‘And I shall go and see to the carriage,’ Valbourg said. ‘If you would be good enough to wait here, Miss Jones, I shall make the arrangements and then come back for you. In the interim, please do enjoy some of what Lord Styles brings you. My father really does have one of the finest chefs in London.’
He left with his sister and her fiancé, and moments later, Mr Brinkley returned with the promised glass of wine and Lord Styles with a small plate of food. Catherine was quite sure there was enough on it to feed Mrs Rankin and herself for three days, but smiling her thanks, she took the glass and the plate and sat down at a small table as the room continued to empty and the majority of guests returned to the ballroom. Unfortunately, several of the gentlemen lingered.
‘A delightful performance, Miss Jones,’ Lord Tantemon said. ‘The music is as beautiful as its mistress.’
‘Thank you, my lord,’ Catherine said, avoiding his gaze. Tantemon was one of her more persistent admirers. He had never strayed beyond the bounds of polite behaviour, but neither was he reluctant to make his feelings known.
‘I heard Valbourg say he was going to arrange for a carriage, but mine is already waiting close by,’ he said now. ‘Perhaps you would allow me the pleasure of taking you home.’
‘I say, steady on, Tantemon,’ Lord Styles objected. ‘I brought Miss Jones supper, so I claim the right to take her home.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous, Styles. This is not a supper dance. Doing one does not entitle you to the other.’
‘I am grateful to both of you for your offers,’ Catherine intervened, ‘but since Lord Valbourg has already gone to the trouble of arranging a carriage, I do not intend to offend him by leaving with someone else.’
‘You are gracious, dear lady, but Valbourg won’t care,’ the ever-dapper Mr Brinkley said. ‘He is only seeing to your welfare because his sister asked him to. I, on the other hand, would welcome the opportunity of spending time alone with you.’ He leaned down and whispered in her ear, ‘My offer still stands. You have but to say the word.’
‘Thank you, Mr Brinkley, but so does the answer I gave when first you made it.’
Catherine heard a guffaw from one of the other gentlemen. ‘I told you you were wasting your time, Brinkley. The lady has better taste than that.’
‘Obviously,’ the barrister snapped. ‘She refused you!’
‘Now, gentlemen, you are unkind to pester Miss Jones in this manner,’ Lord Hugh Nelson said, strolling across the room to join them. ‘Can you not see that the poor girl is trying to eat? I suggest you all go away and leave her alone.’
‘What, so that you can proposition her with no one around to listen?’
‘You malign me, sir,’ the gentleman said, affecting a look of injury. ‘My intentions towards Miss Jones are strictly honourable.’
‘Fustian, you’ve never had an honourable thought in your life,’ Styles said. ‘And standing so close to the Angel, I doubt you’re having one now!’
Ribald laughter followed the inappropriate comment, and knowing it would only get worse, Catherine put down her glass and stood up. ‘Well, gentlemen, if you will excuse me—’
‘Oh, no, sweet angel, you cannot leave yet,’ Lord Tantemon objected. ‘We so seldom have the opportunity of enjoying the pleasure of your company in such a private setting. Surely you would not be so cruel as to deprive us of it now?’
‘I’m afraid she would,’ Valbourg said coldly from the doorway. ‘Miss Jones, are you ready to leave?’
It wasn’t really a question and, grateful for the timeliness of Valbourg’s return, Catherine stood up. ‘I am, my lord.’ She wanted nothing more than to turn her back on every one of the powerful men gathered around her, but aware that she was still performing and that it would not be in her best interests to alienate any of them, she added with forced affability, ‘Though the company is very pleasant, I am exceedingly weary.’
A number of polite objections and expressions of sympathy greeted her remark, but Valbourg merely stepped forward and offered his arm. For a moment, their eyes met...and Catherine’s widened in surprise. He knows. Despite his chilly demeanour, he knows how uncomfortable I am and he is offering me a dignified escape.
Humbly, she placed her hand on his arm, gratitude warring with pride as she lifted her chin and walked out of the room with him. She had no wish to feel indebted to him. Valbourg had made his feelings about her quite clear, both by his attitude and his remarks. But at the moment, his position and authority offered her the protection she needed and for that, Catherine was grateful.
At the top of the staircase, she swept up her skirts and, with one hand on his arm, gracefully began to descend. Heads turned in their direction. Some guests even called out to them, but Valbourg did not stop. He just kept on walking, leading her towards the front door and freedom.
It seemed, however, that her departure was to be delayed further.
‘My apologies, Miss Jones. I thought the carriage would have been here by now,’ Valbourg said after a glance outside assured him that such was not the case. He hesitated, then led her into a small chamber that opened off the hall. ‘If you would be good enough to wait here, I will go and see what is keeping it.’
Catherine nodded, suddenly too weary to do much more. Lily was right. Two performances in one night were exhausting, especially given the emotional overtones of the latter part of the evening. She wasn’t used to dealing with men like Valbourg and having to pretend a lack of interest drew heavily on her emotional reserves. How fortunate that after tonight, she would have no reason to see him again.
The room in which she waited was beautifully decorated. Silk wallpaper festooned with exotic flowers and birds covered the walls, while more birds were painted on the domed ceiling. Catherine walked around, stopping to admire an exquisite tapestry hanging on the far wall when an all-too-familiar voice said, ‘Well, well, what’s this? A beautiful bird trapped in a gilded cage. How...appropriate.’
Catherine turned around, not at all pleased to see one of her more troublesome admirers leaning against the now-closed door. ‘Good evening, Lord Lassiter.’
His eyes widened. ‘You remember me?’
‘How could I not? You made quite an impression when you appeared at my dressing-room door with a diamond the size of Gibraltar dangling from your fingers.’
‘Sadly, it did nothing to tempt you into my bed.’
‘It would have taken a great deal more than a diamond to do that, even if I had been interested,’ Catherine said. ‘Which I was not.’
‘Feisty Miss Jones,’ Lassiter said, pushing away from the door. ‘Still playing hard to get. But I rather like that in a woman. It makes the eventual capitulation all the more exciting, don’t you think?’
‘I couldn’t say.’ Catherine’s smile was cool. ‘I don’t play hard to get because I am not interested in being caught. By you or anyone else.’
‘Really. So you prefer to live alone, scraping by on the pittance you earn on stage rather than being able to enjoy the many pleasures life has to offer.’
‘I enjoy life well enough,’ Catherine said. ‘As I told you at the time, I’ve no need of help from you.’ She wasn’t afraid of Lassiter, but neither did she wish to cause a scene in Lord Alderbury’s house. Pity she hadn’t seen him come in. She could have made a dash for the door—beyond which the sounds of the reception were now decidedly muted. As, no doubt, would be any sounds that might emanate from this room.
‘I fail to see why you persist in playing this ridiculous game, my love,’ Lassiter said, beginning to circle her like a hungry wolf stalking its prey. ‘I am a wealthy man and a generous one. You could have anything you wanted. Jewels, gowns, a carriage at your disposal day or night. All yours simply for the asking.’
‘If I agree to become your mistress.’
‘Of course. One must be prepared to give in order to receive,’ Lassiter said, narrowing the distance between them. ‘And surely giving yourself to me would not be such a hardship. I am not unattractive, nor nearly so old as Crosby, whom I understand you also sent away.’
‘Yes, with the same answer I gave you,’ Catherine said, backing up until she felt the edge of the credenza against her lower back. ‘At least he was gentleman enough to accept my decision.’
