London - Edward Rutherfurd [466]
Yet if he was not vain, it might be said that Captain Meredith belonged in St James Street. The knowledge that his ancestors came to England with the first Tudor court, his club, his clothes, his connections, the very fact, even though it was a secret, that his mistress was a countess – these things were his life. Take them away and, like some fine Georgian house gutted by fire, he could not be what he was.
To ensure his survival in this condition, therefore, he was prepared to do whatever it took. If necessary he would kill. He could even justify it. For were not these the ancient rules of the aristocratic, knightly class? The rules of the game. There were many men in the clubs of St James who would have agreed; and to this extent, it might have been said that his heart, though warm enough, contained a place that was cold.
He had just come to the corner of Piccadilly when the three men stepped out of the shadows and seized him. Two took his arms from behind; the other stood in front of him.
“Captain Meredith? You are arrested, sir. For debt.”
The door opened slowly. Lady St James felt a little tremble pass through her body. At last. He had come.
It was already half-past eight and once or twice in the last half-hour she had even feared that he might have changed his mind.
She had dressed with care. Her loose silk gown, exposing her shoulders, hinted that, at a touch, it would slip deliciously away. Her hair was now held by a single tortoiseshell comb. That too could fall, at the right touch. Her breasts felt taut against the silk. The door opened fully.
Lord St James entered the room.
Her face fell. She could not help it. “You?”
“This is my house.” His bland face contracted; the beginning of a frown. “You were expecting someone else?”
“No.” She strove to recover herself. “You always knock.”
“My apologies.” He said it a little drily.
What did he know? Where was Meredith? Was her lover about to arrive as well? She must warn him, or somehow get rid of St James. At all costs she must keep calm.
“I understood you were returning late this evening.”
“I changed my mind. Does that displease you?”
“No, no. Of course not.”
A knock at the door caused Lady St James to go pale; but a second later it was the ladiesmaid who discreetly entered. Did her ladyship require anything? She looked her mistress carefully in the eye.
Clever girl. She should have a present for this.
“I think not.” Lady St James glanced at her husband. “You are not going out again?” He shook his head. She looked at her maid and smiled. “I shall not require anything further.” The maid nodded. If Captain Meredith appeared near the house, he would be warned off. Lady St James silently breathed a sigh of relief. The maid left.
“You were preparing to retire?”
“Yes.” She turned away. “I am very tired.”
It was true. Quite apart from the great wave of disappointment that broke over her as she realized that she had lost Jack for the evening, the very fact of her husband’s presence in her bedroom always had the same effect upon her. Everything in her body seemed to sink; a sense of tiredness, listlessness invaded her spirits. She would draw quickly away to create a distance between them.
Her husband was eyeing her thoughtfully.
“I am sorry you are tired,” he remarked. She said nothing; prayed he would go. But he stood his ground. “We spoke this morning,” he continued, “of my need for an heir.”
“We said this summer . . .” Her voice was weary.
“But I do not wish,