‘He didn’t,’ confessed Sophie. ‘He told her to pack her bags, and said that if she uttered another word he’d have the footmen throw her down the steps, and her luggage after her. He was most imperious, and she seemed alarmed. She left the room very swiftly, at any rate.’
Delphine clapped in delight. ‘That’s better than I could have hoped! We shall be comfortable here at last, and I can stop pretending I can’t leave this room unless I am forced into it. And it is all thanks to you!’
Sophie shook her head. ‘I can’t see that. After all the scandal and uproar that Lord and Lady Wyverne provoked, I am quite sure Rafe will want to live a respectable life. He hated being the subject of gossip, I do know that. And I am not respectable. I know you are sorry for what happened, and want to make amends to me, but I assure there is no need to go to such extreme lengths as to marry your grandson to a common criminal.’
‘Nonsense!’ the old lady said robustly. She appeared to be revitalised by what she had just heard, and her eyes were bright with certainty. ‘There is so much wrong in what you say, child, I barely know where to begin. First of all, what Rafe objected to was being unfairly accused of being his stepmother’s lover. If ithad in fact been true, he’d have faced it down. It’s the injustice he minded, quite apart from the fact that he loathes her. What shame, to be known throughout the world as the sort of man who would make love to his father’s wife! But he’s not by nature averse to a little scandal, not if he has earned it – no Wyverne is. Do you know how the title came about?’
‘I’ve seen a portrait of the first Marquess in the gallery. Rafe showed me.’
‘Then you can hardly have failed to notice his strong resemblance to King CharlesII,’ said the Dowager drily.
‘I understand what you are trying to say, and I am grateful for it, but it’s not the same,’ Sophie insisted. ‘These are different times.’
‘Let us be plain. My son married his mistress, and she was an actress of low birth and had previously sold herself, to others as well as to him,’ Delphine said bluntly. ‘That’s not what I objected to, in truth. I understand that poor women must live, and all she had was her beauty to trade. I presume she married him for his money and status, and that also I did not mind. Most ladies in society do the same and nobody judges them for it. No. I objected to the fact that, whether through weakness or her own vicious nature, she egged him on to be his worst self. Look at the way they treated Rafe when he was a boy.Thatwas truly unforgivable.
‘Butyou, Sophie, you bring out the best in Rafe. I understand why he has been so cautious since he grew to manhood, for my sake, for the sake of all the people here and most recently for the sake of Charles and Amelia. So many burdens he has had to carry. But being so careful for so long has damaged him – it is not his proper nature. Left to himself, with no hostages to fortune, he would have damned his father to hell and walked away from here and never come back. And you have given him back that pride in himself. Because of you, he stood up to hisfather at last, after the jewels had gone, and just now he stood up to Rosanna. This is his best self, not his worst. His true, deep nature. And you have brought this out in him. Do you understand me?’
‘It’s what I want to believe,’ said Sophie distressfully. ‘It would be so easy and seductive to credit it. But I can’t think that I should, for his sake.’
‘My dear child, you know that he loves you. I refuse to believe that he has not made that very plain. It was certainly plain to me, though he has said not a word of it. He is a man grown, he knows his own mind, and he loves you. Though he is a Wyverne, he is constant, he will not change. Can you doubt it?’
‘Perhaps he does love me. But he shouldn’t.’
‘Oh, shouldn’t,’ said the Dowager with a shrug. ‘What he should not do, loving a woman like you, is marry some simpering debutante who wants the title as much as Rosanna did, but is “respectable” so all the world forgives it. And that is what he will come to, make no mistake, if you refuse him. He must marry eventually. You surely cannot think that his fool of a brother is fit to inherit here, or ever will be.’
‘Poor Lord Charles,’ said Sophie with a twisted smile.
‘Poor Rafe, if you do not have him.’
‘There will be a great scandal if I do. I don’t want that for him.’
‘I don’t see why. The Marquess of Wyverne marries Clemence de Montfaucon. What could be more suitable?’
‘I’m not that girl any more. I can’t be her again, it’s too late. I’m a thief. I’ve stabbed people, and not cared if they died of it.’ She said desperately, ‘There’s a picture of me downstairs, half-naked, as Danae with her shower of gold.’
‘Oh, how diverting!’ said the Dowager rather wistfully. It wasn’t entirely clear to Sophie if she was referring to posing nude, or stabbing people, or perhaps both.
‘The artist was my lover!’
‘An artist! Was he good to you? I only ask because I have observed that they can often be somewhat self-absorbed.’
‘Oh, you are quite incorrigible, ma’am! Yes, he was, for a while. But then as he grew more prosperous he wanted me to be respectable, to forget what I had been. And I can’t. I just can’t.’
‘Very well.’ Delphine leaned forward to emphasise her point. ‘Talk to Rafe. See if that’s what he wants of you. I am almost sure it isn’t. He is a nobleman, not a city clerk or an artist with patrons he must please.
‘My dear, do not mistake me, we live in the world as it is. I agree that times are changing, and it seems clear that once the poor King and his wastrel sons are dead they will change faster. It may well be that it will be expedient to conceal your past, to deny – if anyone should ever have the temerity to raise the matter – that you are the girl in the shocking pictures. But you can do that. You can do it with aplomb, as the Marchioness of Wyverne. I presume you don’twantto live in a back slum and pick pockets for a living until you are too old to continue? Is that what you mean to do, if in the end you refuse my grandson and walk away from him? I must tell you in all seriousness that I think that would be perverse.’
‘No,’ Sophie confessed. ‘There’s no virtue in poverty for its own sake. It’s dirty and dangerous and unpleasant. If I had money and security, I could use my position to help girls who suffer every day as I once did. But you are too persuasive, ma’am, and I should not listen to you. The plain fact is, I care for Rafe too much to want to ruin him, and I would ruin him, I know. And as for my future,’ she said with a flash of spirit, ‘I must tell you that I am a very good pickpocket!’
‘And I am sure you will be an excellent marchioness,’ said the Dowager tranquilly. ‘I only wish you would get on and do itquickly. I would like to see a great-grandchild or two before I die.’
Sophie had to laugh, despite her distress. ‘You are quite shameless, madame la marquise, do you know?’
‘Naturally I am aware of it. One does not reach my age without knowing such things. I will stop at nothing to see my grandson happy. I would even lie – but on this occasion there was no need. It is a very simple matter, it seems to me. Talk to him,’ she said. ‘That’s all I ask. Talk, and listen.’
40
Though it was notionally a house of mourning, and the funeral of its late master had not yet taken place, there was no denying the fact that the atmosphere at Wyverne Hall became instantly much more cheerful once Lady Wyverne had taken her departure, with her personal maid, looking most unhappy at this fresh turn of events, at her side. The family coach was piled high with bandboxes and trunks, and set off in the early afternoon, trundling down the carriage drive and disappearing in the distance to the regret of precisely nobody.
