She was interrupted by the duchess, who stared to find Beth sitting ather desken deshabille,yet with a bonnet on.
“Redcliff and I were just trying the effect of a new coiffure,”explained Beth with a straight face.
“Ah,” said the duchess, studying the effect. “I’m not sure it isflattering though, Elizabeth. It makes your face look rather round.”
“I was of much the same opinion myself,Maman.Is there some way in which I can assist you?”
“A tedious matter. Sir Peter Greystone was here asking for hisdaughter. Marleigh dealt with him, but he reported to me. It seems thesilly girl has run away and they thought she might have come here.”
Beth hoped her practice in dissimulation would hold up under theduchess’s carelessly shrewd eyes. “Here?” she said. “They thought Clarissawas here? I can assure you she is not,Maman.”
“I did not see how she could be, and she did not visit here yesterday,even.”
“But has she truly run away?” asked Beth.
The duchess gave a very Gallic shrug. “That is what they say, and onecannot imagine a reason for them to make such scandal over nothing.”
“Well, I am very glad,” said Beth, feeling she must stay in character.“No young girl should be forced to marry Lord Deveril.”
“You are right, of course,” said the duchess with a moue of distaste.“A horrible man. He called here, too, but Marleigh soon dismissedhim.”
For once, Beth thought, the army of servants had its advantages.
“Do you have engagements?” asked the duchess, glancing at the pile ofcards in front of Beth. “I am to visit Lord Taberley’s to see hiscollection of medieval jewelry. One of the best in the world; they say. Do you care to come,Elizabeth?”
“Thank you, but no,Maman.I am a little tired and will have a quiet day.”
The duchess looked at her with concern. “Are you sure you are well,ma chere?You seem so easily tired. Perhaps ?”
“Oh, I doubt it,” said Beth, reading the woman’s mind.
“One never knows,” said the duchess. “I gave birth to Maria nine monthsafter our wedding.”
“Er ... I feel that is unlikely in our case.”
“Oh,” said the duchess. “I see. In fact, that is as well. You haveplenty of time and once the babies come life changes.” The duchess gaveBeth a warm, perfumed kiss on the cheek ? Beth was careful to turn herleft cheek ? before leaving.
Beth immediately pulled off the bonnet and undid the silly hairstyle.She then tried to settle to peaceful solitude. The day’s edition of theTimes,which she usually read with relish, could not hold herinterest. Just more speculation about Napoleon’s whereabouts and troopmovements, all four or five days old. A fascinating article in theQuarterly Reviewon the Hapsburgs had no appeal. She looked atthe clock a dozen times and the hands had hardly moved at all.
She picked over her luncheon, plagued by tantalizing questions. Whenwould he be back? He hadn’t said. Would he be home for dinner? Thereseemed a vast wasteland of time to be got over before even then. Would itbe very bold if she were to order a quiet dinner to be served in her roomfor them both? Very bold or not, it was too bold for Beth.
The only thing to do, she decided in the end, was to go somewhere. Shewas not a prisoner, after all. She could visit the fashionable emporiums.The idea held little appeal, for she was still most uncomfortable withspending large amounts of money on fripperies.
She could visit the Delaneys. But they were such perceptive people, andtoday she felt transparent as glass.
What she needed was a long walk to dissipate some of her nervousenergy. Decided at last, Beth summoned Redcliff and dressed in a pale bluefigured lawn gown and blue twill spencer which matched the high Pamelabonnet. She submitted once more to the curls down the sides of her faceand the tower of white straw on top.
Looking in the mirror, she sighed. “This is ridiculous. In this bonnetI must be quite six feet tall!”
“It’s all the thing, milady. And it’s not as if you have to watch suchmatters with his lordship. He’d still be able to give you someinches.”
Beth glanced at the clock again. Hardly half the afternoon had passed.How could she yearn for him so much? It wasn’t lust even, just a simplelonging for his presence, his mischievous grin, his quick and salty wit,his comfortable embrace.
“Is something the matter, milady?”
“No,” said Beth, gathering her wits. “We are going for a long, briskwalk, Redcliff.”
The maid’s face fell. “Where to, milady?”
