Miss Dane and the Duke

The next morning the atmosphere was awkward with remembered embarrassment and Antonia escaped to the drawing room to open the post. Her interest in a pamphlet on the manuring of roses sent by Sir Josiah waned, however, in competition with the memory of Marcus’s hard body, cold from the river, urgent against hers.

She shivered despite the heat, recalling the feel of wet hair crisping under her fingertips as she had entwined her arms around his neck.

With an effort Antonia pulled herself together and opened the next package which contained a very sprightly missive from Great-Aunt Honoria.

‘I find this new doctor most invigorating, my dear,’ the old lady wrote. ‘He advised changing from that lowering diet to one including red meat, game and Bordeaux and I feel not a day over fifty again! Your cousin Hewitt keeps urging me to rest – sometimes I think he wishes me to remain an invalid – but I find I am enjoying myself too much. And I confess, my dear, that new wife of your cousin Clarence’s is such a little peahen that I find myself quite rejuvenated by dislike for her! I know you are much engaged putting the Dower House to rights, but please come and see me soon now that I am returned to my own house. Town is short of company now, but you and I were always able to find some diversion to amuse us.’

Antonia, delighted that her great-aunt was so much better, was indulging in a daydream of escaping from all the heartaches of home to a few weeks in London when Jane announced, ‘Lady Anne, Miss Antonia,’ making her start in her seat and drop the pamphlet on the Turkey rug.

If there was any sort of atmosphere at Brightshill no reflection of it showed on Lady Anne’s face as she took a chair and accepted the suggestion of a glass of lemonade.

‘I will come straight to the point, Miss Dane: this is not a social call. I am in sore need of your help.’

‘My help?’ She had succeeded in startling Antonia. ‘Why, of course, any service in my power I will gladly perform. Is it the children?’

‘You are most kind. I am happy to say the children are thriving – they love the freedom of Brightshill after London. No, it is a certain social awkwardness.’ She took a strategic sip of her lemonade. ‘I felt Lady Reed was not happy. I assumed she was pining for her husband, Sir George. After all, he has been down at Brighton doing whatever one does with troops for months.’

There was a slight pause while she drank more lemonade and Antonia’s imagination ran riot. ‘Naturally, I assumed that, if I were to invite him to Brightshill to join our house party, this would lift Lady Reed’s spirits.’

‘A natural, and most thoughtful, assumption,’ Antonia said, straight-faced, commendably concealing her bitter amusement at the thought of Claudia pining for anyone but Marcus.

‘Well, I thought so. So I wrote to him. But my brother seems most put out.’

‘I wonder why.’

‘I cannot conceive.’ Both ladies sipped their lemonade thoughtfully. ‘And as for Claudia, why, she was positively petulant. And the wretched man is arriving tomorrow and my husband is no help whatsoever, just keeps saying that he cannot see what the problem is.’

‘But how can I help?’ Antonia asked This reported reaction only confirmed her belief that Marcus was still hopelessly entangled in Claudia’s lures. The husband would be a complication he did not want. Poor man, serving his King and country in the army while behind his back his wife… She shut the picture from her mind.

Lady Anne smoothed her skirts. ‘The first dinner will be a very awkward affair, I fear, and I thought to myself, how could I dilute the mix? I felt I could confide in you because you know everyone, and are such delightful company. I know it is a lot to ask, but if you could just help me smooth the path, I would be so grateful. Sir John and Mr Leigh were only saying over breakfast how long it seemed since you were last at Brightshill….’ She broke off, regarding Antonia with a ruefully apologetic smile.

Antonia felt torn. She wanted to see Marcus, be with him, yet she knew it would be painful and humiliating to see him anywhere near that woman. On the other hand, an ignoble spirit of revenge prompted her to witness the lovers’ discomfiture when Sir George arrived. And, setting all other considerations aside, she liked Marcus’s sister and wanted to help her.

‘Lady Anne, of course, I will help in any way I can. When do you expect Sir George to arrive?’

‘Late this afternoon,’ Anne confessed. ‘That is probably why Marcus is so cross with me – l did rather spring it upon him. Oh, and I do hope Miss Donaldson will be able to join us.’

‘l am afraid she will not. She is already engaged this evening at Rye End Hall at a small whist party. Sir Josiah and Lady Finch have an elderly relative staying who is addicted to the game and Donna is to make up the four.’

‘What a pity. Never mind, I will end the carriage for you at seven o’clock.’

Antonia dressed for the evening with great care, knowing that in any display of feminine charms Claudia Reed would win hands down. She possessed a wardrobe created expressly to exhibit her lures while all Antonia could do was to appear elegant and cool. She chose her newest gown in a shimmering celadon green silk, cut with total simplicity, and ornamented only with a gauze scarf of silver thread that matched her slippers.

Donna, in a fuss because Antonia was attending a party without her, helped secure her dark curls high on her head with pearl pins so that the tendrils just brushed the tops of her ears.

‘Do not forget your fan.’ Donna hurried after her down the stairs as the carriage was waiting at the door. ‘It is so very close, I fear we will have a storm later tonight.’ At the front door she added, low-voiced, ‘And do make certain you are never alone with that wicked man!’

Brightshill shone eerily in the purplish light of the approaching storm, lightning already forking through the sky far off over the Vale. The carriage horses shifted uneasily as the coachman reined in at the front door while the footman let down the steps to help Antonia alight.

She was conscious of nerves as she stepped into the hall to be greeted by Mead the butler but, as he opened the double doors and she walked into the brightly lit salon, she felt her apprehension start to dissipate. She supposed, greeting her hostess and Lord Meredith, that it was like soldiers going into battle, once committed to action, it was strangely calming.

Antonia made her way through the salon, exchanging smiles and greetings with Sir John and Mr Leigh, stopping to exchange a few words with Miss Fitch, who blushed prettily at the attention.

At length, her circuit of the room brought her face to face with Marcus, who was standing before the empty grate, one foot on the brass fender rail. He straightened as she approached and bowed over her hand, but not fast enough for Antonia

to miss the gleam of, presumably reluctant, appreciation in his dark eyes as he took in her appearance.

‘You are in great beauty tonight, Miss Dane,’ he observed dispassionately. There was genuine admiration there, but an undercurrent of suppressed anger too. She was not forgiven.