‘I was not brought up as gently as you might think, and I am here, humbling myself before my husband’s mistress because I have to know. I am begging you for the truth, Miss Bianchi.’
Romola rushed up to Grace, her face so close the stink of gin was evident. ‘You want the truth? I hardly dare utter it. But here it is, and I say this for your sake, not his, not my own. Rawden does not love me. He never has, not me or another soul on this earth, save William. He talked of his brother often, you know. He took pride in him. He often said, ‘I wanted to guide him into manhood, to protect him from the worst of my father’s character, but I have failed him.’ Well, William was not the only one he failed.’
‘How did he fail you, Romola?’ said Grace quietly.
‘By not loving me as I loved him.’
‘But I thought…’
‘Ah, you thought I wanted his money. I did because that is my trade, getting money from men’s pockets. But the rub is, I never thought to fall for him. He is Earl Voss now, but he was a different animal when he first came to my bed – a lusty captain at arms, tested by battle, keen to live life to the fullest and taste all it had to offer, having danced so close to death. Battle makes men reckless, out for pleasure, or sends them to drowning their sins and sorrows. He was easy prey for one such as me, and Rawden intrigued me. He is a tricky one – thorny, cold, and, some would say, callous. But now and again, he will let you see his soft underbelly, and that is the trap we fall for – that vulnerable, boyish side you want to protect and heal.’
It was all too much to bear – this remembered intimacy with her husband. Grace longed to run from this bitter woman, whose flesh had pressed to Rawden’s, whose touch he had once coveted. ‘So, are you still lovers?’ said Grace bluntly.
‘No, nor have we been since he wed you and threw me over for duty and honour. As far as I know, Rawden has been a faithful husband since he said his wedding vows, though God knows I tried to turn him from you. But your youth and innocence have soured my bed for Rawden. I repel now, where once, I attracted. He was always so sure of himself until you came alone. Now, he is all confusion and weakness. Rawden longs for you. I can see it is love, and it has devastated him. For that, I truly hate you, Lady Voss.’
‘If my husband ended your attachment, why did he come to see you lately?’
‘Because he did not want my fall to sit on his conscience. I have been in low spirits, you see, and I begged him to come back to me. How it humbled my pride to do it. See what Rawden does to us. See how he twists our hearts and minds into ruin and despair, and all for the want of him.’
Romola turned back to the window, and Grace suddenly wanted to be as far away from this bitter woman and her degradation. ‘I thank you for your honesty,’ she said. ‘You did not owe me that.’
Romola took another swig from the bottle, pointing it toward Grace. ‘Your turn. Truth for truth. Why did you marry Rawden? Was it for his money?'
‘We barely knew each other. It was impulsive to agree to marriage. I cannot say why I did, in all honesty, other than I felt I had to.’
‘Yes. You gentlewomen have so few opportunities beyond wedlock. I may have to scheme and bed men I don’t particularly want, but having power over my own destiny is a kind of freedom you will never feel.’
‘You are right. I have few paths to choose from, but in Rawden, I have chosen well.’
A bitter smirk broke on Romola’s face. ‘Because he is handsome, with deep pockets?’
‘Because I think I could love him with all my heart.’
Romola flinched. ‘His own is a black one.’
‘Well, there, you do not know Rawden at all. Perhaps you never took the trouble to while you were dipping your hand into those deep pockets.’
‘If you like.’ A sly smile came to Romola’s face, unmasking the predator behind it. ‘Perhaps you can recompense me for my candour. I could have lied and twisted the knife, but I did not. That has to be worth something.’ She held out her hand.
Grace rummaged in her purse and held out some guineas. ‘This is all I have to give you.’
‘Then it must suffice,’ shrugged Romola. ‘You may go now,’ she said.
‘I am sorry about Rawden,’ said Grace.
‘No matter. I hope he does not break you, as he does all his toys.’
Grace hurried away, eager to escape the suffocating maze of rooms and corridors, with their grime-smeared walls, smelling of damp, dust and desperation. She was met by the manager at the end of the hallway.
‘Get what you wanted, Lady?’ he asked.
‘Yes, now please be so kind as to lead me back to the entrance, for I fear I could lose my way.’
He bowed and pointed the way, and Grace followed.
‘You are not the first lady to come in high dudgeon to see Romola,’ he said. ‘There’s always gentlemen coming and going, eager to savour her company, and when their wives find out, there is hell to pay.’
‘I am sure that is none of my business or yours,’ she replied.
