‘You know, I think the opposite. I never imagined Lord Edward had so much sense.’ She pursed her lips.
Tyneham spluttered.
‘She will have to be sent back to Tyneham,’ he declared, forcefully.
Susan, one foot upon the stair, froze and listened.
‘Oh yes, and put an announcement in theMorning Postto accompany it? You might as well. For goodness’ sake, cousin, show a little sense. Yes, it sounds the easy course, but under how much constraint would she be there? Are you going to stay there and be her gaoler? I would far prefer not to have the worry, I assure you, but there is no alternative to her remaining here, and at least visible enough not to occasion remark.’
‘But you have not prevented this … this disaster.’
‘Short of chaining her to my wrist, there is little more that I can do, Tyneham.’ Sophy almost shouted. She was threadbare. She had spent nearly twelve hours of worry and self-blame, which was not the same as having her cousin berate her. ‘At least she has learnt that nothing will come of playing off hoyden tricks upon a man of honour.’
Susan still scowled as she trod softly up the stairs, but her eyes glittered. She did not hear the next exchange.
‘Frankly, I no longer care if she is locked in her room and meals handed in to her.’ Lord Tyneham was feeling bruised, as much by his cousin Sophronia’s lack of feminine subservience and respect as Susan’s shameful behaviour. She openly questioned his judgement, indeed went further and condemned it as ill-considered. He had maintained his self-belief that by the end of the Season he would simply have to offer for his cousin and she would accept him, with the relieved best wishes of her parents. The Sophronia he was seeing today made him realise both that this was unlikely, and that, in fact, marriage to such a woman would give him no peace. This was, naturally, Sophronia’s fault. She had deceived him.
‘That is hardly a brotherly feeling.’
‘Why should it be? He snapped. ‘She is not my sister.’
Sophy gaped at him as if he were mad.
‘You cannot—’
‘She is my mother’s daughter, yes, but that is the extent of our relationship, and how much I resent even that much shared blood.’
Sophy went white, her brain making a rapid review of what little she could remember of her Aunt Clarissa. She had never come to visit them for more than a few days, and had seemed a pale, hollowed-out woman, whose love for Susan had a protective desperation about it. This gave good reasons why that should have been so. She wondered at what point the father had told the son. She blinked owlishly at her cousin.
‘Yes, you may stare indeed. My father was very generous. He let her keep the child and even defied the gossip and said it was his to spare her shame.’
Sophy thought it more likely that the real reason had been to save his own face, and not be marked out as a cuckold. Her own memories of her uncle were of a man who spent most of his time with his cronies. He had never shown any outward sign of misery, or heartbreak. It made sense of what Susan had said about her mother being as good as neglected, but it was a mind-boggling revelation. If this stunned her, his next words made her sit down suddenly.
‘I also shall not condemn my mother for her folly. She was, after all, my mother, and,’ Tyneham’s voice dripped sarcasm, ‘she was seduced by an expert. She would not listen to sound sense and gave her heart, and more, to probably the most notorious rake in London. I dare not consider how many more progeny of “Roving Rothley” litter Society.’
‘“Roving Rothley”?’ Sophy whispered, breathlessly, as her stomach turned over.
‘Oh yes. The father of the current Viscount Rothley, whom you have most unfortunately permitted to be seen in your company rather often, and who wishes to interfere in family affairs.’ It was a snide comment.
‘So it was his father who was the rake.’ She spoke to herself.
‘I have no interest in Rothley’s affairs, of course. He may be as licentious as he pleases. His father eventually had to flee the country and live abroad, even after inheriting the earldom. No doubt many men would like his blood, even after all this time.’
‘His father was the rake,’ repeated Sophy, her fingers white knuckled where she clasped them tightly together.
‘Yes, that is what I just told you.’ He made a grumbling noise in his throat. ‘So do not thrust lack of family feeling at me, cousin. My father and I are the ones who are wronged. Susan has done very well by us.’
‘You will not tell her.’
‘That remains to be seen. If, at the end of the Season no man will take her, I am minded to make a small settlement upon her when she reaches one and twenty and inherits her mother’s meagre portion, and let her live alone where and how she pleases as long as it is far from Tyneham Court.’
Sophy could not believe what he was saying.
‘Alone? You do not seriously think that she would do that for long, do you?’ Sophy reddened, both in embarrassment and anger. Her cousin did not care if his half-sister ended up among the demi-monde. Well, her behaviour might make that seem a natural progression, but … Could Susan not be ‘rescued’ even now, and become a woman who at thirty would look back and shake her head at her wilful youth? ‘I think you have made your position plain, cousin. Should a suitor present himself, I will of course inform you, but otherwise, until my mother returns, I see no reason for you to visit. Good day to you.’
She needed to be alone. She felt sick and a little faint. This was more than she could assimilate quickly, both concerning Susan and, the part about which her heart was beating erratically, the innocence of Lord Rothley. Tyneham might hint that he could be ‘licentious’, and Lord Pinkney had hinted that his ‘vices’ lay with women, but there was no proof of either, and her own instincts were strong. Had she not overheard the alliterative epithets, had Mama not been so determined that he must be kept at a distance, for a reason, now clear, that was his name and not his person, she would have had no qualms about … about making it obvious that she enjoyed his company, that her affections were, yes, engaged.
How ironic, that it was in part through Susan, who mocked her so much for not attracting a man, that she had held off from the one with whom she might have found happiness. This was making the assumption that he liked her, but he had, surely, hinted at it often enough, and shown hurt at being rebuffed so unjustly.
