The Decadent Countess Page 13

  Lady Clementina Fitzgibbon.

  Miranda lifted a trembling hand.

  ‘But Pendle said a…a Lady Mainwaring had requested to see me.’

  Tina laughed and, reaching out, took Miranda’s hand warmly in her own. ‘I am married! But at heart, I am still Clementina Fitzgibbon.’

  ‘I am so surprised to see you. And glad, too, of course. I don’t quite know what to…’ Miranda hesitated as a very nasty thought occurred to her. ‘Oh! You are not one of those Fitzgibbons?’

  Tina pulled a wry face. ‘If by that you mean am I related to Belford, then indeed I am one of those Fitzgibbons. I am Leo’s sister.’

  His sister! If there had been a chair nearby, Miranda would have fallen into it. Of course she should have known, but how could she? How could she have made the connection between Leo and Lady Clementina? And yet, those eyes… With hindsight she remembered that first meeting in Berkeley Square, and how she had thought Leo in some way familiar.

  Tina, who had been observing her friend’s silent mortification, now made a gentle suggestion.

  ‘Shall we find somewhere to talk, my dear? I believe we have much to say to each other.’

  ‘Oh, of course! I am sorry.’

  Miranda lead Tina into the parlour, which had become her favourite room. Now that it was cleaned and had been brightened with new cushions, it was quite cheery and Miranda normally enjoyed sitting and gazing out of the windows at the wilderness of garden.

  Today she did not think she was going to enjoy it much at all.

  ‘Now,’ Tina said, when she had settled herself in an old but comfortable chair, ‘I think you should tell me the story from the beginning, Miranda. I know very well you are not the Decadent Countess, although Leo thinks you are. You are no more your wicked stepmama than I am. Whatever possessed you to make him believe such nonsense?’

  Miranda looked miserable. ‘I don’t know how it happened!’ she wailed. ‘I didn’t intend to lie to him. I came to England expecting, I don’t know, at least to be treated fairly, if not exactly welcomed with open arms. Julian married me to protect me, Tina. He wanted me to come here and be looked after by your family, to live at The Grange, and to be…to be safe again.’

  Tina leaned forward, her voice still gentle. ‘And you were not safe in Italy?’

  ‘No.’ Miranda looked up into Tina’s eyes and tried to smile. ‘Don’t misunderstand me. I love Adela, she is a dear, but it has not been entirely safe for me at Villa Ridgeway since Papa died, and Julian made me see that. He was dying and he wanted to help me, and I agreed. He told me that his cousin would understand, that I could trust him, too.’

  Tina nodded. ‘But when you came to England you found he had made a complete mull of it, probably thanks in the main to my silly Aunt Ellen.’

  ‘He thought I was Adela!’

  ‘Oh, dear.’

  There was a moment of silence, while both women digested the conversation so far.

  ‘You could have told him the truth?’ Tina suggested tentatively, watching as the expression on Miranda’s face become even more woebegone.

  ‘He was so rude, so…so vile. I did not think he deserved the truth. I wanted to punish him, Tina! Only it has got so that I am trapped by my own lies. I almost told him the truth when he visited The Grange, but then he said such things and I—I did not.’

  ‘I quite see it has been difficult for you.’

  ‘He hates me.’

  This was said in so tragic a manner, Tina could have no doubt Miranda’s feelings were the complete opposite. But she said nothing. Certainly, Leo did not hate her, but his emotions were as wild and fluctuating as Miranda’s. No, Tina was not about to explain to Miranda that Leo was so in love with her he had lost all of his ducal qualities. That would be unfair to Leo, and besides, Miranda probably wouldn’t believe it.

  The best solution would be for them to sort it out themselves…with some little help from Tina.

  But it would take careful planning.

  ‘Perhaps you are both equally at fault?’

  ‘Perhaps.’ Miranda sighed, and wiped a tear from her cheek. ‘I am so sorry you have become involved in this, Tina. Please, go home and forget about me. I imagine I will have to sell The Grange to your brother anyway. I have no money, and Mr Ealing at the bank has said there is a delay in sending me Julian’s funds. I love this house, and I know Julian wished me to stay, but I fear I cannot hold out much longer. I will have to agree to the Duke’s terms.’

  ‘Leo has…’ Tina swallowed and began again. ‘Leo has offered to buy The Grange from you on condition that you return to Italy?’

  ‘Forever, yes.’

  ‘I see.’

  Miranda eyed her friend nervously. ‘The terms were generous. It was the way in which your brother delivered them that was insulting.’

  ‘I can imagine.’

  ‘Oh, please, Tina, I do not want to set you against him! He was only doing what he thought best.’ Miranda’s passionate defence of the Duke’s character surprised herself as much as Tina. If she had ever believed him capable of influencing the bank against her, she did not now.

  Tina nodded briskly, masking her anger. ‘Yes, I’m sure he was. Don’t worry, my dear, I do not hate him. I never could.’

  ‘And I suppose he was thinking of The Grange being the Fitzgibbons’ luck,’ Miranda went on. ‘Jack Lethbridge explained that to me.’

  ‘More superstition. I do not believe it, and I’m quite sure Leo does not either. Did Jack Lethbridge tell you there is a tale to go with it?’

  ‘Only that the first Fitzgibbon married to please his king and was handsomely rewarded.’

  Tina smiled. ‘Do not be fooled by the cold facts, Miranda. If it was not a love match to begin with, then it very soon became one. Our Fitzgibbon ancestor was not a sentimental sort, quite ruthless in fact, but he was a model husband. It would seem that Fitzgibbon men are inevitably drawn to disreputable woman, or those with questionable reputations. There is clear evidence of history repeating itself more than once over the years. Perhaps that, more than anything else, was why Aunt Ellen dispatched me here post haste!’

  Miranda blushed a vivid red. ‘As my disreputable status is merely assumed, I cannot see a problem.’ Her stern voice was quite at odds with her burning face.

  ‘Legend does have it that the Fitzgibbon family began with a woman and will end with a woman.’

  ‘Your family name seems to have rather a lot of legends attached to it,’ Miranda replied primly.

  ‘We do, don’t we?’ Tina smiled. ‘Miranda, should I tell my brother the truth?’

  Miranda’s eyes widened alarmingly and she shed her primness in an instant. ‘Oh, no! Please, do not! I could not bear it if he were to know that I…oh, Lady Clementina, I beg you…’

  Tina sighed. ‘Very well, Miranda, you need not beg. I will not tell him if you do not want me to.’

  ‘You…you will keep my secret?’

  ‘Yes, I will keep your secret. Now…’ she rose to her feet ‘…I must leave you, but be assured I will come and visit you again.’

  ‘Will you?’ Miranda smiled her relief. ‘I am so glad.’

  ‘Are you lonely here, my dear?’

  ‘N-no. I have made some friends—the Lethbridges, you know, and I have taken tea with the Misses McKay—so I am not lonely.’

  ‘Quite gay to dissipation, in fact?’

  Miranda gave a chuckle. ‘Oh, no, I would not like to be dissipated. I saw quite enough of that in Italy.’

  Tina took the hand that Miranda stretched out to her. ‘Don’t worry,’ she said gently. ‘Everything will be all right.’

  ‘Yes, yes, of course it will.’

  When Tina had gone, some of the confidence and certainty she so effortlessly carried about her remained behind. Miranda felt so much better for her visit that she determined to tackle the vast depths of the linen cupboard, and set about the task at once.

  Tina was not so enlivened. She rode slowly home from
The Grange, deep in thought. She was turning over in her mind all that she had learned. In particular she was concerned with Miranda’s financial straits and Leo’s possible connection. The notion of Leo threatening Miranda was not a happy one; Tina did not like to think of her brother being such a man. But neither could she imagine Miranda being dishonest about the situation in which she presently found herself.

  Mr Ealing was well known to Tina. For as long as she could remember, the Fitzgibbons had dealt with that particular bank. It would be a simple matter for an influential client, like Leo, to have a word in Mr Ealing’s ear. This would place more pressure upon Miranda, ensuring she agreed to his terms. Or cast her into flat despair, and subsequently into Leo’s arms!

  Yes, it was all very neat and clever, but was it Leo?

  Tina had reached the gates leading to Ormiston. The vista was inviting, and on impulse she asked the driver to set her down so that she could walk up to the house. As she walked she thought over her afternoon visit.

  It had turned out quite differently from what she had imagined. Really, it was astounding that the woman she had set out to confront, the woman painted so black by her aunt, should be none other than Miranda.

  Miranda had been one of Tina’s fonder school memories. Tall and striking, Miranda had appeared cold and stand-offish when she first arrived, but Tina had seen the misery lurking in her dark eyes. It had not taken the clever Tina long to discover that Miranda, though unemotional and practical on the outside, was as soft as marshmallow on the inside.

  Tina had taken her under her wing, and by the time she had left school, her protégée had quite settled in. And now their paths had crossed again, and, if she was not very much mistaken, Miranda once more needed her help!

  Tina’s steps faltered. She paused under a huge old ash tree, facing the house.

  This new development altered matters considerably. It was no longer so surprising to Tina that her brother should be in love with Julian’s widow, despite Miranda’s best efforts to convince him she was every bit as bad as he imagined her to be. Perhaps what was more surprising was that Miranda should have fallen for Leo when he had, by her account, been so extremely objectionable, indeed quite unlike his usually level-headed, polite self. But fall for him she had, if Tina was any judge of the matter.

  So, what was to be done?

  She could leave them to it, allow the tangle to unravel itself. The trouble with that solution was that it might not unravel itself in quite the manner she wished it to. The two of them might very well argue beyond any hope of reconciliation and part in bitterness.

  No, that would not do at all. Tina, having seen Miranda again, had decided she would do very well as a sister-in-law. Certainly a country mile better than that cold prig Julia Yarwood! Yes, Leo would be very happy with Miranda. She would make him more human—look at what she had already achieved! He was almost like the old Leo.

  Surely there was a way in which this muddle could be resolved to everyone’s satisfaction?

  ‘Tina? What are you doing?’

  Leo’s voice brought her head up. He was standing at the library window, gazing down at her in a puzzled fashion as she stood beneath the boughs of the grand old tree.

  ‘You have been standing there a full ten minutes. Are you asleep?’

  Tina laughed and shook her head, strolling on until she stood directly beneath his window. Leo grinned down at her, so like the boy he had once been that her heart ached. She determined right then and there that she would secure his happiness with Miranda, even if she had to tie them up and lock them in a room together to do it!

  ‘I was thinking, Leo,’ she said airily. ‘Something to which you may be unaccustomed.’

  ‘And here I thought you were just wool-gathering.’

  ‘I have been to see Julian’s widow.’

  The smile faded from his face.

  ‘I need to speak to you, Leo.’

  ‘That has a serious ring to it, Tina.’

  ‘It is a serious matter.’

  Leo acquiesced. ‘Very well. Come to the estate office. If you have serious matters to discuss, Tina, then that is the place to do it.’

  Miranda was deep in the cavernous linen cupboard, surrounded by teetering piles of musty, moth-eaten household stuff. It was a humbling experience, but Miranda was not one to be browbeaten, even if the task before her appeared immense.

  So far the pile of objects to be discarded was twice as large as that to be kept. Apart from the normal paraphernalia, she had found torn bed-curtains, a blackened warming pan, and a mouldy night cap which, from the amount of gold thread embroidery upon it, might have belonged to King Henry himself!

  ‘Miranda?’

  Miranda gave a violent sneeze. She knew that voice! Knew it as well as her own…

  ‘Miranda? Come out. I wish to speak to you.’

  What was he doing here? And to see her in such an unflattering state! Go away, go away! Miranda held her breath, as if by doing so she might turn invisible.

  ‘Miranda? Please.’

  There was a hint of laughter in his voice, and Miranda knew it would be reflected in his eyes. Like quicksilver in a summer blue sea.

  Slowly, unwillingly, she extracted herself from the linen cupboard.

  Her hair was a wild and dusty tangle, the skirts of the faded old dress she was wearing were filthy and her sleeves had been rolled up to her elbows in a businesslike manner. In short, she was a sight.

  She could tell that Leo was enjoying her discomfiture hugely.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ she asked him sharply.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said in a penitent voice which fooled her not at all.

  Miranda sneezed again, and blew her nose on her handkerchief.

  ‘Bless you,’ Leo murmured. He made it sound like a caress.

  ‘Pendle should have told me you were here.’ She forced herself to remain indignant.

  ‘Don’t blame Pendle. It was I who should have warned you but, you see, I’ve run tame in this house since I was a boy. I forget that things have changed.’

  That wasn’t strictly true. Leo had not wanted to wait for Pendle to be sent ahead with a message, knowing that in all likelihood Miranda would refuse to see him. He had run up the stairs, impatient as the boy who had once been a constant visitor, and eager to set to rights the shocking and mistaken belief under which his Countess was labouring.

  And, in an about-turn which had enflamed his passions still more, Tina had encouraged him to go! She had completely reversed her opinion after meeting Miranda. ‘You know what these gossipmongers are, Leo. As usual they’ve got it wrong… Go and speak to her, sort it out. She’s quite as keen as you to be on good terms…’

  Miranda had grown uncomfortable beneath his steady regard. She brushed at a stain on her sleeve and gingerly picked a cobweb off her shoulder. ‘I believe some of the objects in this cupboard belonged to your earliest ancestors,’ she said in Adela’s airy voice, slipping into her disguise.

  Leo laughed. She flicked him a flirtatious glance from beneath her lashes and found him so handsome her breath caught in her throat.

  ‘I can well believe it!’ he replied. ‘Have you found any skeletons yet?’

  ‘Why, are there skeletons?’

  He sobered slightly. ‘Probably. My earliest ancestor was no saint, by all accounts. Quite a black sheep.’

  ‘The one who built The Grange?’

  He looked into her dark eyes, bright with curiosity, and smiled. ‘Yes.’

  ‘I’ve met him,’ Miranda said, and then blushed. ‘I mean…he’s on the wall inside the church. He looks a little like you.’

  That flirtatious glance again, an invitation if Leo had ever seen one. He stepped closer. ‘I assure you I am no black sheep,’ he said lightly, but with an underlying note of seriousness. ‘Although you may well think differently after my recent behaviour. Miranda…I have come to plead my innocence. My sister tells me you have had dealings with Ealing at the bank in Lond
on and may believe me to be the cause of a delay in your funds.’

  Miranda’s eyes grew big. ‘Oh, no, I…that is, sir, I thought…but then I knew…I’m sure you would never do such a thing.’

  Her sentence, though hopelessly jumbled, aptly and delightfully conveyed her feelings. Leo took another step closer.

  ‘I hoped you knew that I would not. But, Miranda, I know I have said, and done, things that could only give you a very negative impression of my character.’

  That was true enough, but strangely now that he was humbling himself to her and giving her the chance to tear his former actions to shreds and abuse him as abominably as she had wished to time and time again, Miranda did neither. She no longer wished to. Instead she gave him a quick, shy smile, picked another cobweb off her shoulder, and changed the subject.

  ‘Your sister is very nice.’

  Leo had been holding his breath. Now he released it, puzzled and more than a little relieved.

  ‘Yes, Tina is very nice. She tells me that you, madam, are not nearly as bad as you have been made out to be.’

  ‘Oh, I am quite as bad,’ Miranda replied dully, remembering her lies.

  Leo’s heart sank, but almost at once he rallied. ‘Surely that is for others to judge?’

  Miranda gave him a direct look, searching his eyes. ‘You judged me harsh enough, sir, at our meeting in Berkeley Square. I will not soon forget your treatment of me.’

  Inside, Leo squirmed. He, too, remembered clearly what had been said in the drawing room at Berkeley Square, and how badly he had handled that first, disastrous meeting with Julian’s widow. His voice now was a little stiff. ‘Possibly my actions were rather precipitous.’

  Miranda almost smiled. ‘Are you apologising, Duke?’

  Was he? Leo asked himself in surprise. He so rarely felt he had anything to apologise for, because he so rarely allowed himself to be placed in a situation where there was a need to do so. But he was aware, uneasily aware, that in Miranda Fitzgibbon’s case he had erred. Tina had told him to make a clean start with his Countess, and that was what he must do.