They made their way without haste through the corridors to the opposite side of the theatre.
“This is mine,” she said. “Come round at the next interval, and you can meet my father and mother.”
“I would be very happy to do so.”
“Are you invited to the Armitages’ musical evening tomorrow?” she said.
“I think so. I probably declined it. Listening to girls of seventeen caterwauling and torturing innocent instruments is not my favourite way to pass an evening.”
“Well, write to accept. We can all go together after dinner, and the Armitages know absolutely everyone. Very good people to be acquainted with. Can you sing?”
“A little.”
“Ah. A pity. Never mind, come with us anyway but do not perform. The standard is very high. I shall see you later, Lance. The next interval — do not forget.”
His family were wide-eyed when he returned to his own box.
“So beautiful!” Bel murmured.
“What an elegant gown, and her jewels!” Meg breathed. “Did you see that little clip in her hair? Diamonds! Must be!”
“A most amiable lady,” his mother said, with a smile of approval.
“Friendly,” his father said, nodding in agreement. “Not like… um, other members of the peerage.”
“Lucky man, the Duke of Brinshire,” Meg’s husband said feelingly.
It was a sentiment with which Lance could agree wholeheartedly.
At the second interval, he went to be introduced to Lily’s father and mother, as well as a brother and sister and their spouses, who were perfectly ordinary provincial people who would get on splendidly with his own ordinary provincial family. Yet Lily was anything but ordinary, as beautiful and exotic as a gorgeously coloured peahen amongst a tribe of sparrows. Had she always been that way, or was it being a duchess that made her so? He pondered the question all the way home, deflecting his sisters’ excited questions abstractedly, and lay awake half the night without reaching a conclusion.
And there was a parallel question to consider, too, for he himself was as out of place in his own family as Lily was in hers. Did she see him the same way, as a peacock amongst sparrows? And was she as pleased to see him as she appeared to be, or was that mere politeness, the simple pleasure of seeing a familiar and friendly face in the teeming crowds of the Metropolis?
It was hard to tell. All he knew was that she represented the gravest danger. He would have to be very, very careful.
20: Springtime
Jamie found himself in a quandary. On the surface, his marriage trundled along just as before, and to observers he was sure that they must look like a normal contented couple. There were no arguments, no stony silences, no heavy sighs or awkward moments. Yet beneath it was a deep crevasse that seemed unbridgeable, and he had no idea what to do about it.
It was his father, ever the astute observer, who first broached the subject. They were walking through the woods towards his father’s cottage, Jamie carrying a pile of books for his father, when his father said casually, “Is all well with you and Georgie? You neither of you seem quite as buoyant as you were.”
Buoyant… yes, he was definitely not buoyant.
“She is still very downhearted about the baby,” Jamie said cautiously.
“Still? Well, these things can hit hard, sometimes. But the best cure for that is to get her with child again.” When Jamiemade no reply, his father threw him a sideways glance. “You are doing your best in that regard, I take it?”
“I do not like to press the issue,” Jamie said, feeling his cheeks reddening. What a subject to be discussing!
“Hmm. Consideration is all very well, and it is not so long since her disappointment, but still, that is what marriage is for. Husband and wife cannot be truly in harmony in life unless there is also harmony in the bedroom. Have you talked to her about it? No, of course you have not. You are squirming inside now, is it not so? Naturally you will not talk to Georgie about it, but you must. Truly, you must. She is a sensible girl, Jamie, and she is your wife. The two of you need to understand each other.”
“She does not want to conceive again. It is too painful, she says.”
“You should remind her of Duchess Jane, who had the same trouble and yet—”
“Had four living babies. I have told her that. It makes no difference. Father, if she truly feels that way, I cannot —willnot — press her. If she changes her mind, she will let me know.”
“And meanwhile, you are unhappy. You must not let this fester, son. Get it sorted out as soon as you can.” They had reached the cottage by this time. “Will you come in for a few minutes? I have some brandy.”
