London - Edward Rutherfurd [475]
“May I know the name of the blackguard I am addressing?”
Meredith removed his mask in turn.
“Captain Meredith, my lord. At your service,” he answered stiffly.
“My friends will wait upon you, sir.”
“I shall be at my house in Jermyn Street within the hour,” Jack answered; then made his bow and turned upon his heel.
It was the privilege of the party challenged to choose the weapons to be used. When the two gentlemen from the earl called upon him that night, therefore, Meredith told them.
“I choose rapiers.”
He had already got his own two seconds from the club. It was agreed that the matter should be settled straight away, at dawn.
Lord St James had half expected his wife to be asleep when he got back, so he was surprised to find not only that the door of her chamber was open, but that she was waiting for him.
All the way back from Vauxhall he had been wondering: should he confront her, or should he go to the duel without a word? There was also another matter on his mind. If by any chance he died, the whole St James estate, as things stood, would devolve upon his wife; for until he had a son, there were no surviving heirs. Yet did he really want to leave all his fortune to a faithless wife? If not, should he summon a lawyer, even though it was the middle of the night? Yet how would he change his will? He was not sure. It was with all these doubts in his mind that he found himself face to face with Lady St James who now beckoned him into her chamber and closed the door.
She looked better than she had earlier. Her face was no longer swollen. Careful application of paint and powder had nearly hidden the black eye. And still more to his surprise, it seemed she wished to try for a reconciliation.
“My lord,” she began gently, “you used me very ill last night. All day I have waited for some word from you – an apology, some message of tenderness. None has come.” She shrugged, then sighed. “But I know I gave you cause. I loved society instead of my husband. I put my pleasure before my duty to give you children, and I am sorry for it. Can we not be reconciled? Let us go to Bocton at once.”
He stared at her.
“And give me an heir?”
“Naturally.” She smiled a little grimly. “It is possible that you already have one after last night.”
St James looked at her thoughtfully. Was this a subterfuge of some kind?
“There is something, my lady,” he said slowly, “that I must tell you. A certain person has informed me that he has been your lover. Naturally, I have defended my honour, and yours. What have you to say?”
If it is possible to register shock and disbelief and innocence with a single facial expression, Lady St James did so, without a hint of overacting.
“Who? Who could say such a thing?” she gasped.
“Captain Meredith,” he answered coolly.
“Jack Meredith? My lover?” She stared in astonishment. “And you mean you are to duel?”
“How could it be otherwise?”
“Dear God!” She shook her head. Then, almost to herself. “That poor well-meaning fool.” She sighed. “Oh, William. This is all my fault.”
“You mean he was your lover?”
“Dear Heaven, no. Never in my life. I have had no lovers.” She paused. “You see,” she went on softly, “Jack Meredith pretends to be a rake, but the truth is different. In secret, he is a kind man who long ago confided his unhappiness in love to me. He became a friend. And when yesterday you had used me so cruelly, and I did not know what to do, I went to seek his advice. He was very angry, William. But I did not know he would go to attack you as he did.”
“Why tell me he was your lover then?”
She looked genuinely perplexed. “I suppose to make you fight him. He must think I need defending. Surely you do not believe him?”
Lord St James shrugged.
“After all,” she continued, “consider it, William. Whatever Meredith is, he is certainly a gentleman. If such a thing were true, can you imagine him crying such a thing out to a group of strangers in Vauxhall?”
This, St James