your escort from the Chapel Royal. But when I turned to call on your services, you had gone.’
‘Forgive me. I felt in need of a slightly longer walk and I am aware that it is not a pastime you favour.’
‘A walk with you is always a pleasure, Joshua,’ she replied in a more conciliatory tone.
‘Then forgive me once more. Had I known, I would certainly have requested your company,’ he lied.
She fixed him with a cold, enquiring eye. ‘How is it that you know the ambassador’s daughter?’
‘I was representing the Regent last night, if you remember,’ he said indifferently. ‘We met at her father’s diplomatic reception.’
‘You seem already to be on good terms with her.’
‘Why should I not be? I understand the need for England to maintain a good relationship with Spain.’
‘Ah, so that’s what it is.’
Leo Moncaster strode into the Octagon Hall as they talked and viewed the two tense figures with satirical amusement.
‘Quite a breeze blowing out there,’ he offered with an assumed bonhomie. ‘That’s the problem with being beside the sea, never without a wind. Still hopefully Prinny will soon get bored with coastal delights and leave for Carlton House within the month.’
His audience remained resolutely silent and his eyebrows rose enquiringly.
‘Have I been guilty of interrupting a private conversation? If so, my profuse apologies.’
‘Apologies are unnecessary. Your manners are never anything but perfect, Moncaster,’ Joshua remarked acidly, unable to conceal his dislike. ‘Her Grace and I were just about to part.’ And with that he strode off to his rooms, leaving Leo Moncaster looking quizzically at the duchess.
‘I realise I am hardly a favourite of Marchmain’s, but, beyond my unwelcome presence, what ails him?’
‘I imagine no more than a tedious sermon and a cold walk from the Chapel Royal.’
‘He seemed ruffled—uncharacteristically so.’
‘I may have annoyed him,’ the duchess admitted, her voice carefully neutral.
‘How so?’
‘I invited a young woman who appears to have become his protégée to one of my soirées. That apparently is not something to be done.’
‘And why not exactly?’
‘Possibly he thinks I may corrupt her innocence,’ Charlotte said with a knowing little smile. ‘Would you be so good, Leo, as to escort me back to Steine House? A trifling distance, I know, but I prefer to have a reliable man by my side.’
Lord Moncaster offered his arm and they sailed past the waiting footman. He was not to be put off the scent, however, and as they walked through the Pavilion Gardens enquired, ‘And what innocence would that be, if she knows Joshua Marchmain well?’
‘Don’t be so crude, Leo. Joshua is a gentleman.’
‘You think so? Never trust a man not to sully innocence.’
‘I suppose you should know,’ she answered in a bored voice, ‘your reputation precedes you.’
‘At least I make no pretence to be other than I am,’ he responded harshly. ‘Marchmain is as much a rake; his pretence is to be something else.’
‘Joshua is a man of the world, but he is not a rake. He has discrimination.’
‘In seeking you out, dear lady?’
‘In seeking out a woman who is mature and experienced and with whom he can enjoy life to the full.’
‘As opposed to a girl who is young and naïve, yet sends his heartstrings singing.’
She bit her lip viciously, Moncaster observed with a sly glance. ‘Don’t say, my dear, that you’ve fallen in love with him. Not a good policy, not at all.’
‘Joshua and I understand each other very well.’
‘I wonder.’
‘What do you mean by that?’
‘I wonder how well. After all, you knew nothing of this girl.’
‘That is because he made her acquaintance only yesterday.’
‘And who is this paragon of unsullied innocence?’
‘Her name is Domino de Silva. Domino, what a ridiculous name! Why, what’s the matter?’ The man beside her had stiffened imperceptibly.
‘De Silva, you say?’
‘Yes, do you know her?’
‘Shall we say I have had dealings with her.’ It was Lord Moncaster’s turn to look grim.
‘It sounds as though they were not entirely to your liking.’
‘They were not. I have a score to settle.’
‘I see.’ Charlotte Severn glanced covertly at the polished man accompanying her. He took his time before he spoke again.
‘Are you interested, perhaps? We might work well together.’
‘We might,’ she replied consideringly, ‘but for the moment I prefer to see what I can accomplish alone.’
‘Then let me give you a hint. Gaming.’
‘Gaming? In what way?’
‘A small chink in the armour. It is so fatally easy, is it not, when one is young and inexperienced, to find oneself adrift in a world one does not understand? Fatally easy to lose money, for instance, that one does not have. Then think of the shame, the scandal that would necessitate instant withdrawal from society.’
‘You are a wicked man, Leo.’
‘A practical man, my dear. And practical is what you should be. Marchmain may be the gentleman you profess, but he is a man, and a very attractive one, too. Think of that.’
The duchess did think of it. She hurried away to her chambers, a frown on her otherwise unblemished forehead, and immediately called for paper and pen.
Domino thought little more of Charlotte Severn. If her invitation ever materialised, she was sure she could depend on her father to rescue her. Alfredo was busier than ever and it seemed to Domino that whole days passed when she barely saw him. Looking for occupation, she decided to seek out one of the many art galleries that had sprung up in and around Brighton under the Regent’s patronage. Prince George loved art and so, by default, did his courtiers—or, at least, they maintained the pretence that they did. But rather than attend the Picture Gallery on Grand Parade, which boasted an unrivalled collection of Italian and French art, she chose a newer and much quieter
