used to being indulged.’
‘Well, naturally they are a little petted, but that is only to be expected…’
‘You miss my point, Tish. Most of these young ladies have found it an almost intolerable hardship to come to the country.’
‘Well, of course they have, Magnus!’ Laetitia snapped acerbically. ‘Any woman would. Who in their right mind would moulder away in the country when they could have all the delightful exhilaration of London society? Is that your latest requirement?’
‘Yes, actually—it is. I wish the mother of my children to reside with the children, and London is no place for a child.’
‘What rubbish!’
‘You know it’s true, Tish, for you yourself keep your children here in the country all year round.’
‘Yes, Magnus, the children live here all year round, not me. And that is the difference. Why, I would go into a decline if I were buried here for an entire year!’
‘And the children—do they not miss their mother’s care?’
Tallie had to stifle another laugh at that. Laetitia, a doting mother! The children would love her if she would let them. As it was, they tiptoed around on their best behaviour during their mother’s visits, hoping to avoid her criticisms and sharp temper and heaving sighs of wistful relief when she left.
‘Naturally I spend as much time as I can with my darlings, but I have my needs also, Magnus. And I have responsibilities as George’s wife, and they take place in London, which is no fault of mine. But you need not think I neglect my children, for I leave them in the best of care.’
‘Yes, I’ve noticed that.’ Lord d’Arenville’s voice was thoughtful. ‘Your sturdy little cousin.’
Sturdy! How dared he? Sturdy? Tallie was mortally insulted. She might not be as sylphlike as Laetitia, but she was not sturdy!
‘You’re wandering off the point, Magnus.’
Sturdy! Insensitive beast!
‘Would you say that any of these young ladies would be willing to live for, say, ten years in the country?’
‘Ten years?’ Laetitia’s voice rose to a horrified screech. ‘No sane woman would agree to that! She would die, rather! Why on earth would you wish to immure anyone in the country for ten years, anyway?’
There was a short silence. Tallie craned to hear, but there was nothing. Suddenly Laetitia laughed—a hard, cynical laugh.
‘Good God, you want a nun, not a wife, don’t you?’ She laughed again. ‘Your father tried that, if you recall, and stuck to it for all of six months, while your mother cuckolded him with every groom, stableboy and tenant farmer in the district. And serve him right, say I. No, you couldn’t possibly think that isolating a wife in the country would ensure her fidelity, not after that.’ She laughed again. ‘And if you have any doubts on the matter, dearest coz, ask George.’
Lord d’Arenville said stiffly, ‘My decision is nothing to do with either you or my mother. It is simply that my bride must not mind spending my children’s growing years at my country seat with them.’
‘Well, I wish you’d told me earlier,’ said Laetitia, ‘for I wouldn’t have bothered wasting everyone’s time with this ridiculous charade. I am very angry with you, Magnus. I should have realised you were not serious about wanting a bride—’
‘I am quite serious.’
‘Well, you certainly won’t find one here who could accept—’
‘But I have.’
‘You’ve what?’ Laetitia sounded flabbergasted. ‘Don’t tell me one has agreed to your outrageous terms, Magnus! Oh, I cannot believe it. Who is she? No—do not tell me—let me guess. Lady Helen…no, she is positively addicted to Almack’s. And it could not possibly be Miss Blakeney—no one so à la mode would agree to be buried in the country for ten years. Oh, I give up Magnus, who is she?’
There was a long pause. Tallie waited with bated breath. Truly, she could imagine no young lady agreeing to such inhuman terms. It was a shame his mother had behaved so shockingly, but not all women were like his mother and Laetitia, and why should an innocent wife be punished for the things they had done?
Ten years in the country indeed! And would Lord d’Arenville confine himself similarly to the restrictions of country life? Tallie almost snorted out loud. Of course he would not! It was only his poor wife who would be shut away from society, breeding his heirs like a good little brood mare.
‘Well, Magnus, don’t keep me waiting all day,’ said Laetitia impatiently. ‘Which bride have you chosen?’
Tallie leaned against the doorhandle, eager to hear his answer.
‘I have decided to wed—’
Suddenly the catch gave, and Tallie tumbled out into the night, missing his reply. Fearful that her eavesdropping would be discovered, she pushed the door shut and slipped away. A little irritated to be denied the juicy morsel of gossip, she hurried towards the kitchen. Which unfortunate young lady had Lord d’Arenville chosen for his bride? She would find out soon enough, she supposed. Whoever it was, Tallie did not envy her. However, it was nothing to do with her, except that his choice would signal the end of the house party. All the unpleasant guests would return to London, the children would be released from their unnatural curfew and she would return to the peaceful life she had led before. Tallie almost skipped with joy at the prospect.
When Tallie came down to breakfast the next morning she was surprised to find many of her cousin’s guests already arisen. She paused on the threshold, feeling dowdy and unwelcome. Still, she decided, this was her home, and she had every right to her breakfast. Chin held high, she entered the breakfast room.
A sudden hush fell. Tallie ignored it. No doubt they were preparing to make sport of her yet again—the dress she wore was even shabbier than yesterday’s. She went to the sideboard and inspected the selection of breakfast dishes, uncomfortably aware of hostile eyes boring into her back. After a moment, the buzz of conversation resumed. From time to time a low-voiced comment reached her ears as she slowly filled her plate.
‘…done rather well for herself.’
‘…but, my dear, one wonders what precisely she did to ensure…’
They were talking of Lord d’Arenville’s bride, Tallie thought. He must have announced his betrothal at the ball. That would explain why so many had come down to breakfast. No doubt those who had not been chosen wished to make an early start on the journey back to Town.
‘And, of course, poor Tish is utterly furious.’
‘Naturally, my dear. Would not you be? After all she’s done for her, and now this! The very ingratitude…’
‘Trapped, undoubtedly.’
‘Oh, undoubtedly!’
Tallie wondered which of the young ladies Lord d’Arenville had chosen. It had to be either Miss Blakeney or Lady Helen Beresford—they were the only two young ladies not at breakfast. That explained
