affairs are your business.”
“Exactly.”
“So let’s have a bottle of port and talk about something else.”
Chapter Four
It was not Alice’s first visit to Vauxhall, but it was turning out to be the most enjoyable one she had experienced. In Mrs. Duggan’s party were two young Irishmen, Lord Dunfear and Mr. Donnelly, both easygoing rattles who paid her such extravagant compliments, they made her laugh. Lord Dunfear was tall and gangling and Mr. Donnelly was small and black-haired, with those intense blue Irish eyes fringed with heavy black lashes.
They listened to the music, promenaded in the walks under the lanterns, and then returned to their box for supper, where Mr. Donnelly tried to demonstrate his expertise in juggling with two wineglasses and a fork and dropped all of them—and looked so outraged that Alice giggled.
And that was how Sir Gerald Warby saw her. She was simply dressed in a white muslin gown with a blue silk pelisse and was wearing a frivolous confection of ribbons and flowers in her hair.
He had been strolling along with a noisy party of bloods, but with a hurried excuse, he detached himself from his party and approached the box.
Before Alice had even introduced him, Mrs. Duggan could tell by her blush and sparkling eyes that this was Sir Gerald Warby. Mrs. Duggan looked at him in surprise, for how could such a man even begin to compete with Alice’s husband? He had a handsome face, but it was marred by a rather weak and sensual mouth. His clothes were of the best, but the diamond in his cravat was made of paste.
Alice, after the introductions had been made, asked him to join them. He entertained the company with some of his adventures abroad and then, when Mrs. Duggan turned to talk to the two Irishmen, he said in a low voice to Alice, “How can you ever forgive me? Walk with me for a little and I will explain.”
“There is no need for explanations,” said Alice, with a lightness she did not feel. “You forget I am a married lady.”
“An unhappily married lady, if the gossips have it aright.”
“I never listen to gossip,” said Alice coldly. “My marriage is no concern of yours, sir.”
He put his hand on his heart. “Would that it were,” he breathed.
Alice felt uncomfortable. There was something very stagy about that gesture. Her initial rapture at seeing him was fading fast. She was now more experienced in the ways of the world than when she had first met him. And he had changed in a subtle way. There was a glittering, hectic look in his black eyes and he smelled strongly of the Gardens’ rack punch and tobacco smoke.
“I am feeling faint,” said Mrs. Duggan, looking remarkably hale and healthy. “Forgive me, but I must go home.”
Alice immediately rose to her feet. “We will all go,” she said, picking up her fan and reticule. “My apologies, Sir Gerald.”
He bowed over her hand and said huskily, “I shall call on you tomorrow.”
Alice withdrew her hand and said gently, “No, that would not be wise. Good night, sir.”
Gerald sat on in the box and finished the rack punch. He was joined by his friends.
“So that’s the Duchess of Ferrant,” said one. “Had I such a charmer as a bride, I would not waste my time on Lady Macdonald.”
Sir Gerald sobered on the spot. “Who?” he demanded, and then listened eagerly. When they had finished, he lay back in his chair, his eyes half-closed, and thought hard. He had led a rackety life abroad and had become greedy for money to satisfy his desires of high living and gambling. He had almost run through the generous amount of money paid to him by Alice’s parents to stay away. Alice must have changed. She was no longer a virgin… and it was well known that unhappy wives in London society took lovers. If he could enjoy her favors and then somehow let Mr. and Mrs. Lacey know about it, perhaps they might pay him again.
The following day, Sir Gerald waited across the road from the duke’s town house until
“Exactly.”
“So let’s have a bottle of port and talk about something else.”
Chapter Four
It was not Alice’s first visit to Vauxhall, but it was turning out to be the most enjoyable one she had experienced. In Mrs. Duggan’s party were two young Irishmen, Lord Dunfear and Mr. Donnelly, both easygoing rattles who paid her such extravagant compliments, they made her laugh. Lord Dunfear was tall and gangling and Mr. Donnelly was small and black-haired, with those intense blue Irish eyes fringed with heavy black lashes.
They listened to the music, promenaded in the walks under the lanterns, and then returned to their box for supper, where Mr. Donnelly tried to demonstrate his expertise in juggling with two wineglasses and a fork and dropped all of them—and looked so outraged that Alice giggled.
And that was how Sir Gerald Warby saw her. She was simply dressed in a white muslin gown with a blue silk pelisse and was wearing a frivolous confection of ribbons and flowers in her hair.
He had been strolling along with a noisy party of bloods, but with a hurried excuse, he detached himself from his party and approached the box.
Before Alice had even introduced him, Mrs. Duggan could tell by her blush and sparkling eyes that this was Sir Gerald Warby. Mrs. Duggan looked at him in surprise, for how could such a man even begin to compete with Alice’s husband? He had a handsome face, but it was marred by a rather weak and sensual mouth. His clothes were of the best, but the diamond in his cravat was made of paste.
Alice, after the introductions had been made, asked him to join them. He entertained the company with some of his adventures abroad and then, when Mrs. Duggan turned to talk to the two Irishmen, he said in a low voice to Alice, “How can you ever forgive me? Walk with me for a little and I will explain.”
“There is no need for explanations,” said Alice, with a lightness she did not feel. “You forget I am a married lady.”
“An unhappily married lady, if the gossips have it aright.”
“I never listen to gossip,” said Alice coldly. “My marriage is no concern of yours, sir.”
He put his hand on his heart. “Would that it were,” he breathed.
Alice felt uncomfortable. There was something very stagy about that gesture. Her initial rapture at seeing him was fading fast. She was now more experienced in the ways of the world than when she had first met him. And he had changed in a subtle way. There was a glittering, hectic look in his black eyes and he smelled strongly of the Gardens’ rack punch and tobacco smoke.
“I am feeling faint,” said Mrs. Duggan, looking remarkably hale and healthy. “Forgive me, but I must go home.”
Alice immediately rose to her feet. “We will all go,” she said, picking up her fan and reticule. “My apologies, Sir Gerald.”
He bowed over her hand and said huskily, “I shall call on you tomorrow.”
Alice withdrew her hand and said gently, “No, that would not be wise. Good night, sir.”
Gerald sat on in the box and finished the rack punch. He was joined by his friends.
“So that’s the Duchess of Ferrant,” said one. “Had I such a charmer as a bride, I would not waste my time on Lady Macdonald.”
Sir Gerald sobered on the spot. “Who?” he demanded, and then listened eagerly. When they had finished, he lay back in his chair, his eyes half-closed, and thought hard. He had led a rackety life abroad and had become greedy for money to satisfy his desires of high living and gambling. He had almost run through the generous amount of money paid to him by Alice’s parents to stay away. Alice must have changed. She was no longer a virgin… and it was well known that unhappy wives in London society took lovers. If he could enjoy her favors and then somehow let Mr. and Mrs. Lacey know about it, perhaps they might pay him again.
The following day, Sir Gerald waited across the road from the duke’s town house until
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