And then he was gone.
‘Just another one of Douglas’s many fights and disputes, I suppose,’ Terence Cummings drawled. ‘The man is a complete and utter disgrace to his title and seems to enjoy flaunting his skills in violence at every possible pass. He needs to be taught a lesson.’
‘Well, he did save Sephora the other day—’ Sally Cummings began, but Richard cut her off.
‘He’s a competent swimmer and it was not far to the bank side. If one is proficient at something it does not make it such a risk.’
Terence’s wife caught her glance at the retort and then looked away, the undercurrent of poor sportsmanship on the Marquis Winslow’s behalf evident in her frown.
But Richard had moved on now, in an opposite direction to the one St Cartmail had taken and all the talk was of the pagoda and the possibility of walking up its interesting and unusual oriental shape.
‘You would not be able to manage it at all, Sally. You will need to stay at the bottom and wait for us.’ Terence gave these words and his cousin nodded.
‘Sephora can wait with you,’ Richard said. ‘She has never been one for heights.’
The anger that Sephora had felt just below the surface suddenly boiled. ‘I think I could manage that.’ She watched as a group of ladies and gentlemen came out of the entrance at the bottom of the structure. Many of them were years older than she.
‘But Sally will have nobody to stay with her if you come.’ Richard gave this in a tone of quiet reprimand, no thought or mention of Terence staying with his wife.
‘Well, I do not wish to be a nuisance...’ Sally’s words were worried. ‘It’s just I have a problem with breathlessness and I shouldn’t wish to get only halfway up and not be able to manage the rest of it.’
‘Indeed you should not, my dear, for that would be most disconcerting for all of us.’ Terence patted her hand. ‘Come, Richard, we shall tackle the thing with as much speed as we can muster and be back before you know it.’
And then they left, Sally Cummings’s frown the only remnant left of the altercation.
‘Terence has his own worries at the moment and so it will be most beneficial for him to take this exercise. Winslow has his sadness, too, with his father’s ill health, I suppose.’
The day felt cooler as they walked around the base of the pagoda and through the many scattered trees that had been planted to enhance the vistas of the place. Sephora wondered whether the Earl of Douglas had left the gardens already and looked about to see if she could find any sign of him still being there, but of course there was none.
‘I am sure Francis St Cartmail is long gone.’
Sephora had hoped that her interest was not so easily read.
‘You are not married just yet. Surely you are able to still look at a man who is as unforgettably fine as Douglas most assuredly is.’
Without meaning to, Sephora laughed because Sally Cummings’s statement was so unlike her more usual reticent uncertainty. As if reading her mind the other woman began to explain.
‘I still have thoughts and a voice even though Terence would prefer me not to have. I am sorry to stop your ascent of the pagoda, but I needed a moment to relax again. My husband is not such comfortable company these days and I find my nerves become most frayed. I am taking a pill my doctor prescribed which should allow a marked improvement to my disposition, but so far I have just felt sadder.’
Like I do.
Sephora almost said this out loud, there in the blue of the day and the green of the park, there where Francis St Cartmail had fought with his fists and with a passion largely missing now from anything at all that she did.
Sally was six years older than she was and looked twice that number. Would this be her fate, too, in that many years again, walking here in Kew and finding any excuse at all to avail herself of half-an-hour’s absence from a domineering spouse?
She was trapped somehow between expectation and her own inability to understand what it was she wanted. Richard was safe and familiar and if he was also dogmatic sometimes or overbearing, then were not all relationships based on some sense of compromise? What married couple had the perfect and flawless balance?
It could not be wise to throw away all that was known and familiar for a shot at some whimsical fantasy threaded with danger and hope. Surely such was the way to ruin.
Smiling, she turned to Sally Cummings and commented on the beauty of the gardens and was glad when the other began to describe a plant to one side of the small pathway upon which they walked.
Chapter Six
Francis visited the Wesleys the next morning with the express purpose of procuring a salve from Adelaide Hughes for his split lip, so he was glad to find both husband and wife in the front room of their town house.
‘We were just speaking of you, Francis.’ Gabriel made that observation as he placed The Times on the table before him. ‘It seems as if you were in a fracas at Kew Gardens yesterday and the doyens of the ton are not well pleased.’
‘Winslow’s gossip, no doubt. I saw him there.’
‘Who the hell waylaid you and why?’
‘Men who felt jeopardised because I was asking questions about the illicit supply of liquor.’
‘Something to do with Clive Sherborne’s murder then, I am guessing?’
He nodded. He’d told Gabriel the story of Anna’s guardianship and was glad that Gabriel had remembered, for it made things easier. ‘His lawyer sent me a list of Clive Sherborne’s enemies and it seems that they have taken up their old gripes against me. My ward is deathly frightened and I think she knows something of how Sherborne died, but is not saying.’
‘My God. Are they likely to be back?’
Francis glanced across at Adelaide, who sat listening to this conversation with a heavy frown across her forehead. ‘There is good money to be had in the handling of smuggled liquor. I thought I had been more than careful in my questioning, but...’
Gabriel shook his head. ‘Lord, Francis, you are caught in the role of protector and getting crucified because of it and no way short of abandoning Anna to make it different. Your actions are the talk of the town and after the kerfuffle at Richmond you are becoming persona non grata to those mamas who may have thought you a good match for their daughters.’
‘Thank goodness for that.’ Francis took the tea that Adelaide had poured for him and smiled. He could not remember the last time he had drunk the stuff, though the taste was different from what he remembered it to be like as he took a sip.
‘It’s a new brew I have been experimenting with. The valerian root helps with anxiety and insomnia.’
‘A medicine?’
‘Tea began as that, Francis, but along the way it changed into what it is today. Anxiety comes from the absence of routine and peace in your life. You need a reason to settle down.’
He knew what they were going to say next and pushed the cup and saucer away from him as Gabriel spoke.
‘We were saying that we ought to have an afternoon tea here. We thought perhaps Lady Sephora Connaught should be the first on that list.’
Francis felt the shock of her name, but stayed perfectly still. She’d been at Kew Gardens yesterday and he had seen the fright in every line of her body. He wished he had not. ‘I think she is taken.’
‘But not yet married.’ Adelaide joined in the conversation now. ‘Her lady’s maid is my maid’s sister and she is not at all certain the marquis is the one her mistress should be tying her hand to. She says that even before her near drowning Lady Sephora had been restless and sad. There was talk, too, of a letter in her possession with your name upon it.’
‘Lady Sephora wrote to thank me. There is hardly any scandal in that.’
‘Perhaps she is a lot more than just grateful.’
‘What are you saying, Adelaide?’
‘All the things that you are not, Francis.’
He began to laugh. ‘I have spoken to her for two minutes in total and have had a short correspondence from her once.’
‘You have dragged her to the side of a swollen river, skin against skin, and from what Gabe has related to me given her the kiss of life whilst beneath the cold waters of the Thames. So I want to ask her to come to take tea with us this week. Would you like to join us, too? A small and select gathering.’
Adelaide watched him carefully as she asked this. ‘I shall not be inviting the Marquis of Winslow, but I will invite Lady Sephora’s sister. Lady Maria Connaught is an interesting young woman in her own right. Perhaps we might see if Mr Adam Stevenage could join our party as well for he is newly back from the Americas and I always found him intriguing.’
Gabriel brought his wife’s fingers to his lips. ‘I think you are in your element with matchmaking, Adelaide, though Francis here looks less than enamoured with the idea. Perhaps he should humour you, though, for it is my thought that such an endeavour lies akin to your medicine. Fix the body, fix the heart.’ When they looked at each other and smiled, it seemed for a second that they’d forgotten they were in company. Francis envied them for that.
‘It’s my lip that I’ve ventured here to find some salve for, Gabe, not my heart.’ The ensuing laughter wasn’t comforting.
‘Will you come, though, Francis? Please.’ Gabriel’s wife had a particular way of inveigling others to do her bidding and he was not immune to such persuasion.