‘Dear Miss Salforde, Reverson is but a few months older than yourself,’ cried Mr Almondsbury, jumping to the defence of his friend. ‘He is too young to be setting up his own nursery.’
‘He is right,’ declared William. ‘There is much I wish to do.’
‘Oh?’ she countered with deceptive sweetness, ‘like kissing housemaids, perhaps?’
‘You know that is not what I mean. I had intended to go on the Grand Tour, for example.’
‘I see no reason why you should not still do that.’ She added, determined to be cheerful, ‘We might go together.’
‘Impossible.’
‘Why?’ Elyse bridled at William’s swift dismissal. ‘I should like to travel just as much as you.’
‘I am not free to settle down. I must travel constantly.’
Drew’s words came back to her. She was certain now that he could not have known about the pardon when he uttered them.
‘Once we are married you will remain in Berkshire with the children,’ declared William. ‘I have no doubt you will like to have a large family, but of course that will preclude your going abroad.’ He looked up. ‘Enough of this, we have been talking here too long and my father is beckoning to us.’ William held out his arm to her. ‘Come along, Elyse. I am very sorry for what occurred. We all are, but the terms of the contract have been met, so tomorrow you and I are to be married and we must resign ourselves to the fact.’
Elyse was too angry and distracted to resign herself to anything. Sir Edward must have told Drew about the pardon while she was in the kitchen with Mrs Parfitt. Why did Drew not come to tell her afterwards? If he loved her, surely he would have told her. Unless…
Her thoughts racing, she accompanied William through the crowd to where Lord and Lady Whittlewood were standing. She looked around the room but there was no sign of Drew. Lady Whittlewood put out her hand to draw her son closer and Elyse turned to the viscount.
‘My lord, you are fully conversant with the terms of the settlements, are you not?’
‘Naturally, but I do not think this is the place to discuss—’
She interrupted him ruthlessly.
‘And it is impossible for William to withdraw from the marriage?’
‘Quite impossible. If the marriage does not go ahead then the full sum agreed in the settlement would go to you.’ The viscount looked grim and shook his head at her. ‘Your father drove a hard bargain, Miss Salforde.’
She fixed her eyes upon him. ‘But what if I were to cry off?’
His thin brows went up. ‘You? But why should you do that? This is an excellent match for you.’
‘Nevertheless, what penalties are in place should I withdraw?’
‘Why, none. Your father and I never contemplated such an eventuality. His lack of fortune made it irrelevant.’
She met his eyes with a steady gaze.
‘As I understand it, the sum at stake is considerable. Twenty thousand pounds, to be exact.’
His brows snapped together.
‘Who told you that?’
‘William let it slip. Our marriage is payment of a gambling debt, is it not?’
‘I think we would prefer not to mention that, my dear.’
‘You are right.’ She smiled. ‘I do not intend to think of it again.’
She stepped away a little and took a deep breath. A sudden lull in the noise around them seemed providential. She raised her head and proclaimed in a ringing voice.
‘My Lord and Lady Whittlewood, I am very conscious of the honour you do me, but I regret that I cannot marry your son.’ The lull became a stunned silence. She turned to William. ‘I am very sorry, Mr Reverson, if this gives you pain.’ She tugged the diamond ring from her finger and held it out to him. Automatically he put out his hand to receive it. She smiled at him. ‘I hope one day we may be friends.’
Elyse turned and hurried towards the door, the crowd parting silently to let her pass. William had been staring, perplexed, at the ring lying in his hand but now he looked up.
‘Elyse! Where are you going?’
She glanced back.
‘To find happiness, if it is not too late.’
When Drew left Elyse the clatter of dishes and cacophony of voices suggested that the backstairs would be swarming with servants. He had no choice but to return to the reception and make his way through the crowds to the door. His progress was impeded by the number of his father’s acquaintances waiting to pounce on him. They wanted to wish him well and enquire after his family. He thought bitterly that Lord Whittlewood’s intention to help re-establish the good name of Castlemain had been only too successful. Duty dictated that he bury his hurt and impatience and respond civilly to each and every one of them.
At last he escaped and ran down the stairs, curtly ordering his carriage. A servant was despatched immediately, but with such a crush of guests he suspected that his coachman would have had to go some way to find a spot where he could wait without blocking the road. He paced the hall, impatient to be away before anyone came downstairs in search of supper. He should not have come. His father was wrong about Elyse. She might have loved him, if he had courted her properly and treated her with respect. Perhaps then she might have considered him as a serious rival to Reverson.
He thought of the way she had responded to him in the pavilion, the melting look in her eyes. He could have offered for her then. She would have accepted him and thought the world well lost. Instead he had done everything in his power to disgust her.
‘Fool,’ he muttered furiously. ‘Imbecile.’
A lackey bringing Drew’s hat and cloak stopped and began to back away.
‘Not you,’ said Drew irritably.
There was a sudden burst of noise from above as the drawing-room door opened and it was with relief that he heard the footman announce that his carriage had arrived. He grabbed his hat and cloak and headed for the door. He wanted to be gone from this damned place without speaking to another soul.
The flaring torches outside the viscount’s residence lighted his way to the coach and Drew climbed in, feeling very weary. He would be able to tell his father that his reception in Bath had been more than cordial, but he himself would not count the evening a success, because he had come away without Elyse.
He threw himself back in a corner and closed his eyes, anxious to be home. Suddenly the commotion outside became louder. He heard the squeak of the handle as the door opened, felt the carriage rock and heard the whoosh of a whirlwind. He opened his eyes to discover it was not a whirlwind but a rustling cloud of grey silk.
‘Elyse!’ He sat up with a jolt. ‘What the devil—?’
She fell on to the empty seat opposite him as the carriage set off, saying breathlessly, ‘I am so glad I did not miss you.’
Before he could form a reply she leaned forwards and slapped him, hard, across the face.
Chapter Twelve
‘You are the greatest knave that has ever drawn breath, Drew Castlemain!’
Drew peered into the darkness, trying to see the termagant sitting opposite him. They had driven out of Queen Square and now there was only the sliver of moon riding high above them to light the way. The shadows inside the carriage were inky black.
‘I think I must be,’ he murmured, rubbing his cheek. ‘I don’t think you have broken my jaw.’
‘It would serve you right if I had,’ she told him furiously. ‘Why did you keep your pardon a secret from me?’
Drew leaned back. He was bemused, but somewhere deep inside his heart was singing like a lark. Elyse was here, in his carriage and they were on their way to Hartcombe.
Home.
‘You were going to Bath to marry Reverson,’ he said. ‘To…er…“make him the best, most loving wife there ever was”. Those were your exact words.’
‘That was your intention, was it not, when you rejected me so thoroughly, to drive me into William’s arms?’
‘At that time I did not know I was a free man. I thought I was still an outcast, forced to wander abroad, never settling in one place. I could not inflict that life upon you.’
‘And you gave no thought to what I might want. But that is irrelevant now. When you did learn that you were pardoned, why did you keep silent?’
‘I had given you enough cause to hate me. Even with the pardon, what could I offer you, compared to the life you would have with Reverson?’
‘How idiotically noble of you.’ Her scornful voice cut through the darkness.
‘And what would you have had me do?’ he demanded, rattled.
‘Allowed me to make the decision for myself.’
He exhaled.
‘You are right,’ he said at last. ‘I realised it soon after you had gone, and I intended to do so this evening, only I made a mull of it.’
‘Very true,’ she said bitterly.
Elyse leaned back against the squabs and waited. The anger and excitement that had carried her out of Lord Whittlewood’s house and into Drew’s carriage had abated. She was beset by doubts when he did not reply. Perhaps he had thought better of his rash declaration. Perhaps he had no wish to marry someone who scolded him so roundly. The enveloping darkness did not help. She could not see Drew’s face. She had no idea what he was thinking.
‘I am not going to marry William,’ she told him, when she could no longer bear the silence. ‘I have broken it off irrevocably and there can be no question that I jilted him. The viscount’s debt to my father is cancelled.’