Diamonds and Deceit (At Somerton) Page 8

  It was impossible. Rose knew that, and she also knew as certainly that she could not say so to Annie, not now, not to her face.

  “It’s a good idea,” she said, clasping Annie by the shoulders and speaking with all the genuine affection she felt for her. “It may be a little tricky to—but never mind, we’ll think about all that later. I must go upstairs now. The countess will be wondering where I am, and we don’t want her to find you here.”

  Annie turned slightly pale. Rose felt mean for having scared her, but it was important that Annie didn’t go wandering around upstairs, getting herself into even more trouble. She had to make sure Annie still had a place to go back to at Somerton, and the best way was to keep this all very quiet indeed.

  “I handed in my notice,” Annie said bravely. “I did it to Lady Georgiana, to her face. I said I wasn’t prepared to work below my station anymore, and I had a better offer.”

  Rose took a deep breath. “Well, that’s…well, I know you can do anything you set your mind to, Annie.” And I’ll help you to, she thought, only not like this. She turned to the door. “Sanders.”

  “My lady.” The butler came into view in the shadowy passage. Rose saw how Annie look startled at the authority with which she addressed him. No, Annie had not thought this through, not at all.

  “Please arrange somewhere for Miss Bailey to sleep,” she said. She knew that would please Annie, being called Miss Bailey. “She will be staying here until further notice.”

  “Very good, my lady.” The butler sounded doubtful. “Er…will it be upstairs or, er…”

  “Oh, I’m quite ready to stay in the servants’ quarters!” Annie said, and Rose could hear she was nervous and a little frightened. What on earth could she do? she wondered. How could she manage the situation?

  As she walked back up the servants’ stairs, the smell of carbolic soap and Annie’s sudden appearance made her feel very homesick for Somerton.

  Somerton

  Priya walked across the sweeping lawn, away from Somerton Court’s imposing walls and toward the clump of trees known as Hob’s Dell. Augustus held on to the hem of her dress and toddled alongside her.

  “Ice cream!” he demanded.

  “We can go and find ice cream in a moment,” Priya answered. “Let’s go over here first. Let’s see the hollow tree.” She tried not to sound impatient.

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s beautiful, and old.” And out of sight of the house, she thought, hurrying on. The scent of roses swelled, heavy, from the nearby beds.

  “Why?”

  “Well, because it’s lived a long time.” She could see it now, the oak on the border of the copse. It was draped in ivy, bare branches jutting from it like a stag’s antlers.

  “Why?”

  Priya managed to hold her tongue, even when Augustus sullenly pinched her. She knew it would do no good. Augustus would only run crying to his mamma if she told him off, and she needed him in a good mood.

  She half ran, half slid down the bank to the tree. The copse was dark and green and cool in front of her. Standing on tiptoe, she reached inside the ivy, feeling around until she found the hollow in the tree that she knew was there. Her hand found something. A rectangular, heavy object wrapped in brown paper and tied with string. A book!

  A smile spread over her face. She glanced back to make sure Augustus wasn’t watching. He wasn’t; he was paddling in the mud. She’d get in trouble for that later, but it was worth it. She drew the book out of the hole. She just had time to glance at the tooled leather cover and see that it was A Duke for Daisy by R. J. Peak, the romance novel that everyone in the servants’ quarters was talking about, before another hand took hers.

  She gasped and spun round. Michael stepped out from behind the tree trunk. Seeing it was him, Priya relaxed with a relieved laugh.

  “Did I startle you?” Michael smiled at her. “I’m sorry.”

  “Only a little.” Priya hesitated, then hurried on. “You got it for me—thank you!” She stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. Lately, it was only these stolen moments with Michael when she felt truly calm and happy. She didn’t know what she would do without him—as she surely would be when he came to his senses and remembered his family and his obligations. For now, though, she couldn’t bear to send him away as she had done so many times in the beginning, when he first began courting her.

  “What was I to do? I mustn’t keep you from your duke,” Michael teased her.

  Priya had read the first fifty pages in snatches when Lady Edith’s maid had left the novel lying around, and had been able to think of nothing else for the past fortnight. Apparently she hadn’t hid her obsession from Michael very well.

  “I can’t wait to find out what happens next.” She flipped through the pages eagerly.

  “My little bookworm.” Michael tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “So you’re going to read instead of talk to me, then?”

  “Just one chapter,” Priya said with a smirk, pretending to be engrossed. Michael began trailing soft kisses down her neck. Priya’s breath caught, and she lifted her face to his. Their lips met.

  Augustus splashed loudly in his puddle, suddenly aware that he had been forgotten. Michael pulled away from Priya. “Here you go,” he told Augustus. He produced a bar of chocolate from his pocket. Augustus took it and greedily began unwrapping it.

  “That will keep him busy,” Michael said, turning back to Priya. The chocolate would also keep him awake most of the night, Priya knew, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. “Now…”

  They kissed, and Priya snuggled into the warm security of his arms.

  “I feel so safe when I’m with you,” she murmured.

  “I hope you feel safe all the time,” Michael said, looking at her keenly.

  “Yes, of course.” She looked down at the book, then up with a bright smile. “I had a letter from my parents. My brother has won a scholarship to a better school!”

  “That’s wonderful! Perhaps you won’t have to send your wages home, then.”

  “Oh no, there is the uniform to buy, a cricket bat.…”

  “You’re so selfless, to only think of helping your family,” Michael told her admiringly. “I hope your brothers are grateful.”

  “I hope they are too!” Priya laughed, but her cheerfulness faded quickly. She glanced over her shoulder, back toward the house. The stately golden-stone mansion rose behind her on the hill. Of course she could not see at this distance, but she had a strange feeling someone was watching her from the nursery window.

  “You’re shivering,” Michael said, moving toward her. “Here, take my coat.”

  She didn’t have time to protest before he had draped it around her shoulders. He stood for a second, his arm around her shoulders. She looked up into his blue, rebellious eyes. He loved her. She could see that, trust it. It was as solid as the ground she walked on. If only she could tell him how uncomfortable Sir William made her feel.… But after all, nothing had happened, really, and Annie was no doubt right, she was imagining things. She realized that he too looked troubled.

  “Is something worrying you, Michael?”

  “Well, yes. It’s Eton.”

  “The school?”

  “Mother wants me to go back. I’ve told her I’m not a child. The Beaks order you about, and the boys are worse. Nothing but dreary Latin verbs, what’s the good of that? We ought to run away together. I’ll join the army, and you can come along with me. You wouldn’t mind the life of a soldier’s wife, would you?”

  “I wouldn’t mind anything by your side,” she said, with a smile. “But should you be so quick to reject Eton? I think you are lucky to have the chance of going there.”

  “Lucky!” He snorted. “You wouldn’t say that if you had to light a prefect’s fire in the shivering cold at five in the morning.”

  Priya swallowed a smile. That was the life of any housemaid—and it didn’t end at eighteen. “You will be a man soon—you already are—and men must
be well educated if they are to be respected and if they are to be able to do all the work that is required of them. Think how it would look to be an officer in the army and not know all the things that the others do. You owe it to yourself to make the most of your education.”

  She placed a hand on his arm. Once again she thought of the shadow at the window, the shadow that she never seemed quite able to escape. “I want you to go back to school, please, Michael,” she said softly. “I want to know that you are happy and—and free.”

  Oxford

  “And so I say to you, the education of women is more than a right, more than an economic necessity.” Laurence’s words rang into the rapt audience of the Oxford Union like the chimes of Big Ben. “It is a patriotic duty. Thank you for your attention.”

  He bowed and seated himself and, as if moved by a physical reaction, the audience leapt to their feet in a storm of applause, catcalls, and hoots. Ada rose with them, her color high and her hands clapping furiously as if they had a will of their own. For half an hour she had forgotten where she was. Laurence’s commanding voice, arguing for the rights of women, had entranced her completely.

  “I do admire my brother,” Emily said in her ear as she applauded. The two of them had been sitting together in what had become known as the suffragettes’ gallery. “As a child, he could win any argument—and that skill has never deserted him.”

  “It sounds like an intoxicating power to have,” Ada returned. A moment later she reproached herself for not sounding more enthusiastic. “He is our strongest supporter, and we are lucky to have him on our side.”

  “Yes, sadly, until we have a real voice of our own, we need men like Laurence.” Emily continued, “Have you read this week’s editorial in The Times by Hannah Darford? Now, there’s a woman who could take on the House of Commons.”

  “Yes! It was so inspiring,” Ada replied eagerly. “I loved her approach to the subject—appealing to the economic argument for women in the professions. She must be a very brave woman to practice as a lawyer despite all the discouragement she has encountered.”

  Laurence was stepping down from the podium, and the other speakers came to clasp his hand and shake it. Ada saw him bowing his head, nodding seriously at their words, waving away a compliment with a modest smile.

  “Let us go and congratulate him.” Emily turned toward the exit, and Ada followed. They made their way down the stairs and met Laurence at the bottom.

  Ada smiled at him as he laughingly took her arm and guided them to the door through the jostling crowd.

  “What a lot of people!” he said in her ear. She could hear a slight self-conscious note in his voice and knew he knew how good he had been. They stepped out into the golden afternoon.

  “You were magnificent,” she said as soon as they were outside. She squeezed his arm impetuously. “You’ve certainly made a convert of me.”

  He laughed, but there was a pleased smile on his face. “My subject spoke for itself.”

  “Confess: you enjoy orating no matter the subject,” Ada said, teasing him. “You could argue that two plus two were five and I’d believe you. You just like persuading people.”

  He smiled, but didn’t rise to the bait. Emily glanced between him and Ada. “I am sure you two would enjoy some time alone to stroll by the river,” she said. “I’ll read a book in the tearooms—and pretend that I don’t know you are unchaperoned, Ada.”

  Ada laughed and blushed. Feeling a little embarrassed, she watched Emily walk away, self-contained and controlled as a cat.

  “My sister is a dear, but a little lacking in tact.” Laurence smiled, and, as always, Ada was reassured by his gentlemanly air. He offered her his arm, and Ada took it.

  They strolled in companionable silence down the cobbled streets. Before them the river glittered in the sun. Punts filled with undergraduates drifted down the water, the men holding lacy parasols above the girls’ heads.

  “With this sun and these buildings we could be in Italy.” He gestured to the glowing old walls of the Oxford colleges. “Shall we go there for our honeymoon? I’d love to show you Florence.”

  Ada did not answer immediately. Her eye had been caught by three turbaned young men lounging on the banks among the summer flowers. Their white summer jackets were bright against their skins, and she heard a familiar lilt in their voices as they talked and joked with each other.

  Ravi and I once walked on this path together, she remembered, as the leaves of a weeping willow and the pillar of the bridge came into view. That day we quarreled over Empire politics. The memory rushed over her—the sound of the water flowing lazily past, the hard kiss of a cricket ball against the bat. Ravi’s expression as he walked toward her after their argument, the way their eyes had met and she had known, they had both known, that no argument mattered compared to the strength of their desire to be together. No matter what the consequences, no matter what the risks. A sunbeam dazzled her; she put a hand to her eyes.

  “Ada?”

  “I’m sorry.” She looked up, a stab of guilt in her heart. It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t fair to betray Laurence. Not even in thought. “Of course, Italy would be wonderful.”

  He took her hand, and Ada felt his light, strong grip through her glove. “So when shall we go? September? It’s the best time, after the heat and before the storms make sailing a bother.”

  “September?” She felt a jolt in her chest. It was May already. “I thought I’d begin university in September.”

  “Why not wait a year? We can be married, see Florence, see Paris, go farther if you like…Greece? The Acropolis? Egypt perhaps?” He was tempting her.

  “Why not next May?”

  “That is a whole year away. I can’t wait so long.” He moved closer to her as they walked. She felt his warm breath on her neck. “You can go to university once we’re married, after all. There’ll be all the time in the world, once we’re married.”

  All the time in the world, Ada thought. All the time in the world…to spend with you.

  “But we must get the season over, and then Papa will be so disappointed if our wedding interferes with his shooting, and then it’s winter, and no one gets married in winter.”

  “You’re playing with me.” He struck at the tree with his cane.

  “Not at all. I just don’t see what the rush is.”

  He spoke quietly, his low voice caressing. “When you have a beautiful butterfly, you’ll do anything to keep her fluttering around you.”

  Ada was not sure she liked the comparison. “Don’t you trust me?” she said.

  “Of course,” he said shortly.

  Ada heard the annoyance in his voice. She moved toward him and placed a gentle hand on his arm. “Laurence. I will marry you. I dream of it every day. But surely you understand that I cannot simply forget my other responsibilities.”

  He nodded, appearing to be pacified, and she took the chance to change the subject. “In fact, I wanted to ask your advice,” she said quietly.

  It was a good move. Laurence liked to be needed, she knew that.

  “On anything,” he said at once.

  “This Alexander Ross. The Duke of Huntleigh.” She felt him tense. “He and Lady Rose have been dancing together a good deal since they met at the state ball.” She hesitated over her words, trying to find the right ones to explain her vague sense of unease, her concern. “You know Lady Rose is not used to society. I would not want her to be…disappointed. She seems very happy, happy for the first time since our father adopted her.”

  “I have the greatest respect for your father, but such a radical decision cannot be without consequences,” Laurence answered.

  Ada forced a smile. “I hope that a little more time spent in her company will convince you that my father was right in his decision to ennoble her.”

  “I don’t doubt that Lady Rose would grace any company. I simply mistrust anything that flies so entirely in the face of convention,” he added, with a gracious smile. “But I daresay
you’ll think me an old stick-in-the-mud.”

  “No—no. You are eternally reliable, and I cannot say how much I appreciate that.” Her voice was almost trembling. “That was why I wanted to ask you about the Duke of Huntleigh—and Rose.”

  He was silent.

  She looked up at him, meeting his eyes. “I can believe the Duke of Huntleigh has been misrepresented,” she said. She wanted it to be true. But the look in Laurence’s eyes silenced her.

  “I’m afraid he has not,” he replied.

  A cold iron weight seemed to settle on Ada’s heart.

  Laurence went on. “I have known Huntleigh since Eton, and he’s a bounder. His only interest is novelty. I don’t believe he’s ever had serious intentions toward a woman in his life, though he’s been mixed up with enough of them. He was sent down from Oxford, and I understand his travels to the Continent were not of his own volition. His father was not proud of him.” Laurence sounded very serious. “I am glad you spoke to me about this, Ada, because I would have had to raise the subject otherwise. As you say, Lady Rose is very vulnerable, because of her extraordinary position, and I am afraid she is easy game for a man such as the Duke of Huntleigh.”

  “Are you quite sure?”

  “I am certain.” He hesitated, then added, “May I ask if he is aware of Lady Rose’s…origins?”

  “You mean that she used to be a housemaid?” Ada said bluntly. She hesitated. “I expect so. That is, everyone knows.…”

  “Everyone in society. But as we know the duke has done his best to distance himself from society until this year. He has few close friends now in London. It’s quite possible that he doesn’t know—and if he did, I think you would find his attitude to Lady Rose substantially changed.”

  Ada nodded silently. There was no choice. Rose had to be warned—for her own good.

  London

  Ada toyed with her toast, now and then glancing at Rose, who was humming to herself. Her father was reading the newspaper, a troubled frown on his face. She knew the news from Europe had been bad—there was so much anxiety about German airships. Yet it seemed incredible that the Kaiser would really move against Britain—after all, he was the King’s close relative. Other things troubled her more—like protecting Rose.