Her Ladyship's Companion Page 10

  “What do you want to warn me of?” she asked, not much interested.

  “For someone in a, shall we say, inferior position, there’s always the danger of being the least little bit ridiculous, making a fool of oneself over the gentlemen of the household. It’s very common, in every meaning of the word. Comes from sour spinsterhood. At home I never had a governess who wasn’t head over heels in love with my father.” Anna gave a little tittering laugh. “But it wouldn’t do for you to make that sort of spectacle of yourself here at Vinton over Cousin Giles.”

  “Is that so? You give me a very odd impression of your former governesses, Anna. I assure you, it isn’t the common run of things for that sort of improper behavior to be tolerated.” Melissa returned a bland stare. Inside, she felt a little sick.

  “I’m just telling you for your own good, Miss Rivenwood. Believe me, it’s not at all becoming the way you throw yourself in Giles’s path. Everyone’s been remarking on it. I just wanted to drop a little word in your ear.”

  A maid came down the hall with a pile of laundry. Anna had to fall silent until she passed. Melissa returned a soft answer. She couldn’t afford to antagonize the girl. “You’ve mistaken the matter, Anna. I’m not attracted in any way to Mr. Tarsin. If he weren’t my employer, I’d have nothing to do with him. And since I spend nearly all my waking hours in Lady Dorothy’s company, I can hardly be said to be throwing myself in anybody’s path.”

  “You always have an answer to everything, don’t you? Oh, yes, Miss Rivenwood is always so neat and prim. Miss Rivenwood is just the blushingly proper modern heroine, isn’t she? Pretending to be so very, very concerned about that brat Robbie! I hope Giles was properly impressed with your little show, protecting him from the big bad robber. But you needn’t think it’ll get you anywhere.”

  “This may come as a surprise to you, Anna, but I’m not trying to get anywhere.”

  “Aunt Dorothy may be completely amoral, but even she won’t stand for Giles’s mounting a mistress under her roof.”

  “Miss Merringham, if you’re planning to annoy Lady Dorothy with these ravings, please remember the state of her health.”

  “I’m not so stupid as that.” Anna tossed her blond head and pursed her lips. “It’s nothing to me if you choose to accept … advances from Cousin Giles. I only hope you’re not expecting anything more permanent.”

  Anna was a precocious little beast, but Melissa couldn’t believe she was nearly as airily sophisticated as she pretended. “I’m not looking for any sort of arrangement,” she insisted wearily. “I’m here as companion to your aunt. That’s all.”

  Anna snickered. It was not one of her more attractive sounds. “That isn’t what it sounded like in the library just now.”

  “You listened!” And this little twit had the nerve to call Lady Dorothy amoral. “That’s what you were doing in the housekeeper’s room. You were sticking your ear next to the wall and eavesdropping,”

  “I was not,” Anna squabbled, her face reddening. “I was just getting some drops out of the medicine cabinet and the window was open. I happened to overhear you. That’s not eavesdropping.”

  Melissa shrugged. “If you say so.”

  “At least I don’t go making up ridiculous stories, practically accusing people of murder and enacting dramatic scenes all over the barouche. If this is your crude method of trying to intrigue Giles—”

  “I’m not trying to intrigue anybody, least of all your cousin.”

  But Anna wasn’t listening. “All those evenings over the dinner table, pretending to be so interested in what he said, spending your time languishing after him.”

  “I do not languish, Miss Merringham, and if I did, it would not be after my employer.”

  “But Giles isn’t a safe man to play these tricks with, Miss Rivenwood. He has a reputation for being ruthless.” Then, in exasperation, “You’d better listen to me.”

  “Anna, with the best will in the world, I can do no other unless you moderate your voice.”

  “I’m willing to believe you’re still honest,” Anna conceded handsomely. “So I’ll warn you. Even if your birth were respectable, Giles would have none of you. A Tarsin can look as high as he likes for a bride. He has a responsibility.”

  “What do you mean, even if my birth were respectable?” Melissa demanded. That was something Anna had no business knowing.

  “I mean to say... That is ...” Anna hesitated. “It happens I’ve overheard things in the library before.” She had the grace to drop her eyes before Melissa and look ashamed. “You can’t complain about it. I have a perfect right to be in the housekeeper’s room if I want.”

  “Anna, very much more of this, and the next attempted murder in this house will be yours, not Robbie’s.” Melissa made haste up the stairs. Now she was behaving as badly as Anna, and she hadn’t the excuse of being seventeen.

  Anna hurried after her. “I only meant it for your own good. You’ve been making a fool of yourself,” she said loudly.

  Melissa said nothing, striding angrily down the hall.

  “It’s plain speaking maybe.” Anna skittered along after her. “But somebody had to tell you. Women get stupid fancies when they get old.”

  Melissa stopped and took a deep breath for a blasting retort. Then she saw the corrosive misery in the girl’s eyes. Whatever wounding words Anna spoke, she felt more suffering than she inflicted.

  “I’m not precisely senile, Anna.”

  “And there’s no need for you to go tattling to Aunt Dorothy either,” Anna blustered. “She shouldn’t be bothered by complaints from you, and besides, I’d deny everything.”

  “Anna, Anna.” Weariness was rising in Melissa even over anger, and with it a sort of wry amusement. “It’s not my province to judge your behavior or to report it to Lady Dorothy. I merely point out to you, very gently, that eavesdropping is frowned upon in the best circles. It’s also a minor social trespass to accuse your aunt’s companion of licentiousness.”

  She was nearly at the sanctuary of her bedroom, Melissa saw with relief. The sooner she ended this interview, the better pleased she’d be.

  “This is where I leave you, Anna,” Melissa said. “Thank you for the warning. There’s nothing like a little plain speaking to clear the air, is there?” Melissa shut the door firmly behind her, placing Anna’s face, and any further remarks, on the other side of solid oak.

  Alone, she ran across the room and threw herself down on the bed, her eyes filling with tears. She laid her head in her arms, hiding her face. Plain speaking, indeed. Sour spinsterhood. Had she been languishing after Giles? Was that why he felt she would welcome his casual kisses?

  But she hadn’t done anything. She was sure of it. Her behavior had been irreproachable.

  Melissa rolled over on her back and stared up at the ceiling. Whom was she trying to fool? If even Anna knew, what hope was there of hiding it from anybody else? In fact, the only one in the house who wouldn’t admit that her ladyship’s companion had fallen in love with Giles Tarsin was Melissa herself.

  She beat the counterpane angrily. What a blind fool, what a stupid blind little fool she’d been.

  Chapter 11

  ... more worried about my own hypocrisy. How can I complain that a man like Giles Tarsin bestows a casual embrace? In my own mind I’ve wished for far worse.

  Excerpt from the journal of Melissa Rivenwood, August 1, 1818

  In novels, and Melissa was passionately fond of romantic novels, the heroine always has the leisure to collapse gracefully on a chaise longue and cry her eyes out when her world collapses. Passion in the ruined abbey is followed inevitably by a period of calm reflection in the rose garden. In real life, Melissa found, private misery is followed almost immediately by a maid’s summons to dinner and the necessity of hastily disguising the ravages of unrestrained emotion.

  Ruthlessly dashing water onto her cheeks and laying a wet cloth across her eyes made no improvement in her appearance. In the mirror a pale,
stricken face stared back at her. Her eyes seemed abnormally large. And her lips ... Melissa raised her hand gingerly to touch them. Her lips were not painful or bruised exactly. But they felt tender, sensitive. The girl in the mirror had a wanton look. Melissa pressed her lips together severely and pulled her hair back tightly from her face.

  Sir Adrian ambushed her as she entered the parlor, armed with a charming smile. “I haven’t seen you all day,” he complained. He contrived to make it clear he had spent the intervening time thinking of nothing else. “Tell me more about this encounter with the desperados,” he demanded. “I find myself possessed of a most pressing interest.”

  Melissa returned some random polite answer, extricated her hand from his grasp, and slipped beyond the range of conversation. Anna, all unwitting, aided her in this by jealously claiming Sir Adrian’s attention. There was no intention of doing any favor. In fact, Anna looked triumphant.

  “I practically swooned in fright, Sir Adrian, as you can imagine,” Anna recounted dramatically.

  Melissa could feel Sir Adrian’s eyes boring into her back as she selected one of the Dresden figurines on a table and pretended to find the insipid shepherdess a fascinating study. There was an almost physical itch between her shoulder blades. She gave herself a little shake and crossed the room to where Lady Dorothy was seated. I’m imagining things, she thought. He’s no doubt a very ordinary sort of fellow, and that mysterious, reckless expression is caused by nothing more than dyspepsia. He’s probably trying to remember where he pawned his watch last time.

  It was all very embarrassing. Was there anyone in the house who didn’t know Giles had been kissing her in the library? Just what kind of speculation was going on in Sir Adrian’s sleekly groomed head?

  Anna was saying, “Then this great vile man said, ‘Your jewels or your life!’ 1 don’t mind telling you that I was quite faint with fright. He pointed the gun right at me, and he had the most horrid look on his face, as if he wanted to eat me right up. Then he pulled the rings off my fingers with his great nasty hands.” Anna interrupted Lady Dorothy for confirmation of a detail. “That little pearl ring, set in a circle with the topaz chip. It was my grandmother’s, wasn’t it? It was quite my favorite. I have nothing that goes so well with my yellow silk now.” She devoted herself to Sir Adrian again. “It was the same style as this one.” She held out one limp hand gracefully. “See?” She dangled her hand in front of his face. “And look at the bruises he gave me when he grabbed me. Here and here.” She pointed to two nonexistent bruises on wrist and forearm.

  The most gratifying response to this came from Harold Bosworth, who tut-tutted over the pale little hands and stroked them soothingly. Sir Adrian examined Anna as if she were the artwork of an earnest amateur.

  Melissa ceded Anna the center of attention gratefully. Edgar, with a carefully blank expression on his face, was leaning against the wall and pointedly not looking in her direction. If anything, it made Melissa even more uncomfortable.

  “Giles was shaking with anger when he saw what that peasant was doing to me.” Anna babbled on. “He was just sitting there, literally petrified with rage. It was so dreadful for him to be there and be unable to defend me.” One hand draped itself decorously across her white décolletage.

  “Ah,” Sir Adrian breathed thankfully as Giles entered. “Miss Merringham here has just been telling me how you sat helpless and dismayed in front of that rascally highwayman, Giles. Must have been a great shock. Doesn’t sound in the least like you.”

  Melissa was looking elsewhere, not at Giles. She heard him reply calmly, “You never know what you’ll come to in your old age, Adrian. Be warned by my example.”

  “I am, I am. I’m watching it with considerable interest, believe me.”

  Melissa allowed herself only the briefest glance away from her fixed regard of the Dresden shepherdess. Giles was staring directly at her. Their eyes locked. Melissa’s lips broke from their firm control and quivered. Her fingers gripped the tabletop. Giles’s face was unfathomable. There might have been the glint of a grin. It was gone so swiftly she could have imagined it. He nodded courteously.

  Melissa looked down at the rug. Then she could have kicked herself. If she had shouted aloud to the whole room that something was going on between the two of them, she would not have made it any clearer. Harold’s face was a study in sympathy.

  “So, Giles.” Lady Dorothy’s sour voice greeted him. “If you’re finally through keeping us waiting, we’ll have dinner. You may tell me more about this extremely tiresome run-in with the elements of lawlessness. I warn you, at this point I am prepared to be bored.”

  “I will strive not to disappoint you,” Giles assured her.

  Bedford opened the double doors leading to the dining room and announced that dinner was served.

  “And about time,” Lady Dorothy said querulously, pulling herself to her feet. One imperious hand grabbed hold of Anna for support as the girl sauntered past. “What’s that scent you’ve drenched yourself with, Anna?” she demanded. “You smell like a civet cat.”

  Anna pulled away with a little moue of distaste. “I purchased it at Charmain’s in James’s Square. It comes from Paris, Aunt Dorothy. It’s called La Nuit d’Amour. It’s very popular with the regent’s set, so you needn’t say nasty things about it.”

  “The things they don’t scruple to sell to young girls these days,” Lady Dorothy grumbled. “No, Miss Rivenwood, I have no need of your arm, thank you. I am not a complete invalid, no matter what some people may have been telling.” She glared accusingly at Giles. “If you are all through standing about like a bunch of waxworks, I, for one, am ready to eat.”

  Despite Anna’s best efforts, the tale of the robbery as related by Giles became merest commonplace, an incident scarcely worth noticing.

  “What are you planning to do about all this?” Lady Dorothy demanded gruffly, squelching Anna’s well-meant efforts to relive the scene just once more.

  Giles motioned indifferently with his wineglass. “I’ve sent a message to Edgewater. He’s magistrate. It’s his bailiwick. Let him handle it.”

  Lady Dorothy approved of that, at least enough to refrain from biting criticism. “They’ll find them soon enough,” she said with satisfaction. “Then we can forget this nonsense.”

  “I will never get over it,” Anna stated, glowering.

  “Enlighten me, Miss Rivenwood.” Sir Adrian, by ignoring precedence and his place at the table, had managed to seat himself next to her. “This robbery must have been a shattering experience for you as well as poor Anna, yet you show no ill effects. Why is that?”

  “I have less tender sensibilities,” Melissa replied softly. She wondered if Sir Adrian, thinking her deep in some intrigue with Giles, had decided to mark her out for his own conquest. There was a new intentness in his eyes, not the mere reflex of flirtation he’d shown before.

  “I don’t allow vapors in my companions.” Lady Dorothy frowned impartially at the entire table. “We shall now engage in a civilized conversation. That means we will talk about what interests me. Giles, you had a letter from Augusta today.”

  “True,” Giles conceded. “Shall I tell you what she said or merely allow you to read it?”

  “You may relate the highlights,” Lady Dorothy said graciously.

  “There’s a fair amount of gossip. The Duke of Clarence’s marriage is settled. Adley’s made a bet at Brooks’s on who’s going to get the succession. Cumberland looks like a favorite, though what kind of degraded monster we can expect from that—”

  “Don’t talk treason at the dinner table,” Lady Dorothy reprimanded him. “Wait until the tea tray is brought in.”

  “Then we’d best avoid politics altogether,” Giles replied calmly.

  “Definitely,” Anna said loftily. “It’s dull stuff, politics. There’s something so sordid about scrambling for influence among all those country clods and ill-bred cits. Don’t you agree, Sir Adrian?” She threw him a gay little smile.


  “It’s a game some of us enjoy despite the vulgarity. Giles, for one,” Sir Adrian said carefully. “Certainly it’s a sport in which you should not indulge, Miss Merringham.” He was meticulously polite. “And you, Miss Rivenwood? You don’t find our little game dull. Do you lean to the conservative side of the fence with Lady Dorothy, or are you a Whig with Giles?” His eyes glittered with mischief.

  Melissa gave up pretending to eat. If Giles could brazen it out as if nothing had happened, she could, too. She mustered her composure and replied, “By upbringing I’m a sound Tory. But the East End of London is enough to make anyone Whiggish. You might say that, womanlike, I’m swayed by my emotions, and that makes me inconsistent.” That ought to silence him.

  It didn’t. “I might say that. But I wouldn’t be so rude. Do you despise politicians also? How awkward for poor Giles here, to be sure.”

  Melissa didn’t look at poor Giles there. She stuck her fork savagely into an inoffensive piece of meat and made no move to consume it. She didn’t dare look up from her plate. “Most politicians, it seems to me, are more concerned with appearances than with reality. They won’t investigate the truth of … of an accusation that might make them look foolish in public. And their own behavior in private doesn’t always bear investigation,” she said darkly. “If a man is honest, I don’t care what party he belongs to.”

  “What? Truth before Whiggery? You’ll need some lessons in party loyalty, that’s clear,” Sir Adrian said musingly, as if to himself but loud enough to be heard at the head of the table. Giles grimaced angrily at his friend. It had no apparent effect.

  “You’ll find that loyalty, Sir Adrian, cannot be taught.” Anna broke in fiercely. “Ideals, the constant regard for a single perfect principle, won’t be found except among the highest social order.” With a certain amount of obvious self-congratulation she smiled pointedly at Harold.

  Harold, in his turn, looked long-suffering.