White Horses. Joan Wolf
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I do for my country,” he said. “Very well. I will leave for Brussels tomorrow.”
“Thank you, my lord,” both men chorused. After the earl had gone and the door was closed behind him, both Herries and Rothschild looked at each other. “Couldn’t Castlereagh have gotten someone who was not quite so noticeable?” Rothschild said.
Herries shook his head. “He wanted Lord Branford. Said if anyone could get the money through, it was he.”
Rothschild said, “I hope he was right, Herries. I hope he was right.”
Outside, the earl got into his chaise, tipped the boy who had been holding his grays and started the horses, driving through the city streets toward Grosvenor Square, where his town house was located. He pulled into the mews behind the house, relinquished his horse and carriage to one of his grooms, and went into the house from the back.
He was surprised by his eighteen-year-old sister in the hallway in front of the library.
“Oh, there you are, Leo,” Dolly cried. “Mama and I have come to call on you.”
“Have you?” he asked. “And whose idea was that?”
“Mine. Come into the drawing room and join us.”
“I can’t stay long, I have things to do. I am leaving for the Peninsula tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” Dolly was clearly upset. “So soon?” Her gaze dropped to his injured leg.
“I am perfectly healthy. There’s no reason for me to linger in England when my regiment needs me.”
“But there is a reason,” Dolly lamented. “I wanted you to help me with my come-out. I thought you could be my escort to Almacks when I make my first appearance there.”
“Good God,” the earl said. “Whatever put that into your head?”
“Well, there is one other thing you can do for me. Come along and talk to Mama,” Dolly said, and, taking her brother’s arm, steered him past the magnificent circular staircase into the marble-floored front hall and thence into the drawing room, which looked out onto Grosvenor Square. Sitting on a gold velvet sofa in front of an alabaster fireplace was a lovely middle-aged woman whose hair was so fair that it scarcely showed the white that had begun to streak it.
“Hello, Leo,” she said quietly.
“Hello, Mama,” he replied. He made no attempt to go to her. “This is a surprise.”
“Dolly dragged me. We are planning her come-out and she has a question she wants to ask you.”
His eyes, the same shade as his mother’s, moved to his sister’s animated face. “What question?” he asked.
His sister looked at him pleadingly. “Please, can we use the ballroom here at Standish House for my come-out ball? It would be so wonderful to have it here. If we have it at Jasper’s house we will have to use the drawing room, and it isn’t very big.”
Jasper Marley, Lord Rivers, was Dolly and Leo’s stepfather. Dolly, along with Leo’s two young brothers and his half brother, lived with her mother and stepfather.
Leo looked at his mother. “Was this Dolly’s idea or yours?”
“Believe it or not, the idea was Dolly’s,” she replied composedly.
“Yes, it was,” Dolly said. “I think Papa would want me to have the best come-out, Leo. I think he would want me to use the ballroom.”
He looked into his sister’s anxious face. “I’m sure he would. Of course you may use the ballroom. But I won’t be here for the great occasion.” He turned his eyes back to his mother. “I am leaving tomorrow for the Peninsula.”
Her fair eyebrows drew together with concern. “Must you go back, Leo? Surely you have done more than your share in this war. You’re twenty-eight. It’s time for you to be thinking of marrying and setting up your nursery. You have the succession to think of.”
His mouth set. “I have two younger brothers, Mama. If something happens to me, the earldom will stay in the family. And I believe in finishing what I start. The war is not over yet.”
She met and held his eyes. “You took a bullet in your leg. You may not be so lucky the next time.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Would you care?”
Her eyes watered. “Of course I would care! You’re my son.”
“Lucky me,” he replied.
Dolly said anxiously, “I wish you wouldn’t fight with Mama, Leo. I know you don’t like Jasper, but he’s not that bad. I think you and Mama should make up your quarrel before you go back to the war.”
“We don’t have a quarrel,” the earl said. “Do we, Mama?”
She surprised him by answering, “Yes, we do. And I wish we could put it behind us, Leo. I hate to see you going into danger again.” She stood up and clasped her hands in front of her. “Can’t you forgive me?”
His face was hard as stone. “Some things can’t be forgotten…or forgiven. And now, if there’s nothing more you need me for, I have a number of things to do before I leave tomorrow.”
A ripple of pain passed over his mother’s face.
“Leo!” Dolly said sharply.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Dolly,” he replied curtly. “You came here to get use of the ballroom—well, you’ve got it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have things to do. Good afternoon.” He turned and strode out of the room.
“Mama, are you all right?” Dolly flew to her mother’s side.
“Yes, I’m fine.” Tears were running down Lady Rivers’s face.
“What is wrong?” Dolly asked in bewilderment. “Can Leo still be angry with you for marrying so soon after Papa died?”
“Leo has his reasons, Dolly. I don’t blame him for his actions toward me. I just wish he had a little more charity in his heart, that’s all.”
She took out her handkerchief and wiped her eyes dry. “Come along, dear.” She tried to smile. “Leo isn’t the only one who has things to do.”
Two
It was raining when Gabrielle Robichon’s elderly carriage pulled up in front of the Hôtel Royale. She got out of the carriage and went to talk to the driver. “You can stable the horses in the mews in back of the hotel, Gerard. Make sure they are rubbed down and give them a bran mash.”
“I know, Gabrielle,” said the driver, who was almost as venerable as the carriage. “I’ve been taking care of horses for longer than you’ve been alive.”
Gabrielle smiled at him.
Gabrielle’s older companion appeared at her side. “For heavens sake, chérie, let’s get out of this rain!”
“All right, Emma, all right,” Gabrielle said. The two women hurried toward the door of the hotel, which was opened for them by a liveried doorman.
“Our bags are in the carriage,” Emma said to the doorman. “Will you have them fetched, please?”
“Yes, madame,” the man replied. “I will have them sent up to your room.”
“Thank you.”
The two women approached the desk. “We are supposed to have a reservation, Emma,” Gabrielle said.
The clerk behind the desk looked at them, and Emma said, “Madame Dumas and Madame Rieux. I believe we have a reservation.”
The clerk looked at his book. “Yes, I see it here. I will have someone show you to your room, mesdames.”