Page 22

He arrived at the Arbuthnot house in Brook Street a little before the proper hour for visits, which were the sort of pointless social calls he didn’t pay anyway – but this was an emergency. It certainly felt like an emergency to him. His life seemed to be spiralling rapidly out of control.

Though he’d sent his card up in the correct manner, so Jessica had been warned of his arrival, she had still not managed to wipe all traces of surprise from her face by the time he was ushered in by her butler. ‘Fairmount!’ she said brightly. ‘What a pleasant surprise. And you find me alone, for once. Would you like me to ring for tea?’ She gestured to a seat opposite her, and he sank into it, frowning. Best to stick as close to the truth as possible, he thought.

‘That’s kind of you, Jessica, but no. I’m here because Miss Constantine has just let me know that a guest of yours has been spreading gossip…’ A ludicrously alarmed expression was creeping across Mrs Arbuthnot’s face, and he became aware that his manner might possibly be interpreted by a lady, even a cousin, as threatening. ‘I’m sorry. I’m not trying to say that it is your fault. I know you spoke up on my behalf. But the young lady thought I should be aware of what was being said about me, and I am sure she was right; no doubt you did not like to tell me yourself, as it is all so excessively awkward. I also collect that at first Lady Wellbeloved was trying to insinuate that I had some sort of irregular liaison with her, when in fact I only met Miss Constantine in London, a few weeks ago. I know she was in Venice, perhaps at the same time as I was – that’s not clear to me – but I assure you, I never knew her there.’

Xan wasn’t by any means a practised liar, but he thought he was doing rather well for a first attempt, and what he’d said was true, in a fashion – the person he had known, or thought he knew, was not Bianca Constantine but someone else altogether.

Jessica sighed and shook her brown curls. ‘I do wish you’d let me call for tea. It’s so hard to talk about disagreeable, vulgar things like this in cold blood, as it were. But yes, I think that’s a reasonable summary. I was a little shocked that Lady Wellbeloved didn’t seem to want to accept that Miss Constantine and her Italian cousin are in fact two separate people. But of course they are! Any other idea is quite preposterous. Miss Constantine has lived in London most of her life, and made her come-out in the same year as Clarissa; one knows several of her sisters – the dear Duchess, most notably! Obviously the young lady artist who is living with her sister Mrs Da Costa opposite you – a fortune based in trade, of course, unfortunately, but I understand most agreeable, genteel people nonetheless – is not an obscure Italian widow. And I am sure that one cannot be held responsible for the wild behaviour of one’s cousins, or we should all find ourselves deep in difficulties.’

‘Since my brother Philip was also your cousin, Jessica, we must hope not,’ Xan said a trifle grimly. ‘Or for the behaviour of one’s brother, in my case. But you’ll understand why I was perturbed by the news. I am not Philip, and I would prefer not to be confused with him.’ Even if in reality I should be, an insidious little voice whispered in his head.

Mrs Arbuthnot looked at him a little timidly, but still spoke what was on her mind. ‘Did you in fact know the lady whose name she mentioned, Xan?’

It was a fair question, and he had prepared an answer for it. ‘Just barely. I had spoken to her once or twice in passing, after a first accidental encounter. Venice is the sort of small place where one keeps bumping into the same people over and over again, willy-nilly.’

It was his turn to sigh, and he allowed a certain amount of feeling to creep into it. ‘The truth is, she was – I daresay she still is, wherever she may be now, because I have not the least idea – very attractive. If I were that way inclined, if I were my brother or someone of that kind…’

His cousin was smiling at him sympathetically, with a hint of pity, and he felt like the worst beast in nature. Still, he ploughed on. ‘But Signora Rossi is, as Miss Constantine says, a respectable young widow. Even if I might have cherished private feelings towards her and Lady Wellbeloved somehow divined them, she should not be going round besmirching her name, and that’s leaving mine entirely out of the matter for the moment. The fact that the young lady in question lives abroad and may never know of it is entirely beside the point. Miss Constantine or one of her many other relatives in England could easily choose to play the busybody and write to her, and cause her considerable distress and embarrassment even at this distance. The rumour could even spread to Italy and damage her there. It is quite unconscionable.’

‘That’s true,’ Jessica agreed, her brows creased. ‘I had not properly considered. I feel in some degree responsible, since Miss Constantine met Lady Wellbeloved in my house and everything flowed from that. But honestly, Xan, I had no idea that she was about to say anything half so outrageous, and insist upon it too when contradicted, as I daresay you have heard she did.’

‘Naturally you did not know any such thing; how could you? What was she doing here, though? She doesn’t seem at all the sort of person I’d expect you to be acquainted with, not that it’s any of my business, of course. I thought she had lived retired in Venice for many years, and I know you and Arbuthnot have never been there.’

‘She’s his godmother.’ This unwelcome revelation was uttered in tones of deep gloom. ‘I daresay there is some disreputable ancient Grand Tour story behind it; nobody will tell me. It’s simply dreadful, Xan – she’s actually staying with us here now and shows no sign of leaving. I could hardly say no to her, since Lady Arbuthnot is not in Town at the moment. Personally, I think my mama-in-law heard that the nasty creature was coming and absented herself to Derbyshire on purpose, so she would not have to entertain her or even see her, and I would instead. The tenor of her conversation – at her age, too – is decidedly improper, and I am sure she cannot be a good influence on the dear children, who seem fascinated by her and hang on her every word. She brought a monkey with her, if you can credit it, the horrid animal. It’s bitten several people already, including Arbuthnot, twice, and I am sure if she stays here above a sennight longer, half my best servants will hand in their month’s notice. My butler has already told me in such a tone that he did not expect to be dealing with savage wildlife in a respectable house in Brook Street at his time of life, to which I could only reply, Williams, I assure you, nor did I! You are lucky not to find her here, or the monkey – unless that was what you wanted? Not the nasty little ape, I mean, but her. She is out visiting some other horrible ancient relic, and I was enjoying a few moments of peace.’

‘I’m sorry to have disturbed you, Jessie; I can see you have a great deal to try you. I suppose I might have to speak to her, with or without her pet. But she is a malicious, mischievous person, and I cannot control what she does or says, any more than you can. She can slander me, Miss Constantine, and her cousin with complete immunity, and there is nothing I can think of to stop her.’

‘No, I can’t see what you can do either. She doesn’t even have a son or grandson you could challenge to a duel, which might perhaps put a brake on her tongue. Not that you’d want to do that, of course, since it would hardly help stop the gossip, but rather the reverse.’

Xan agreed despondently that it certainly would not, and took his leave. He wasn’t sure that he’d achieved anything at all by his visit; his cousin believed him, he thought, but then, from what Bianca had said, she’d been inclined to do so already. He could not know if Jessica’s unwelcome guest was enthusiastically spreading gossip about him among her wide acquaintance at this very moment, but it seemed all too likely that she was.

35

This uncomfortable suspicion was swiftly confirmed a day or so later, when Xan happened to sit down to dinner alone with his aunt. It was a modest meal – as a family they did not stand on ceremony unless there was some reason for it – and once the dishes had been placed on the table, all at once in the old-fashioned manner, Lady Deborah dismissed the servants, saying that they’d help themselves to food and drink, and ring the bell when they required more assistance.

‘Lettice Wellbeloved is going round London telling anybody who will listen that you had a mistress, openly, when you were in Venice,’ she said baldly as soon as the door was safely closed. ‘She’s also saying – here she becomes a trifle confused, because it’s not clear precisely what she believes or wants others to believe – that this woman of ill repute was either Bianca Constantine herself, or some Italian cousin of hers. She doesn’t seem to be saying it was both, for which small mercy I suppose we may be grateful. If it had been your brother, I daresay she might have said I assure you, it was both at once and people would have credited it without blinking.’

‘I know she is,’ he responded gloomily, taking a healthy swig from his wineglass and setting it down carefully. ‘She first aired the outrageous idea in front of Jessica, and Miss Constantine herself. Miss Constantine was good enough to tell me directly, and Jessica has confirmed it, supposing any confirmation should be needed. But I have not the least idea what I should do about it.’

She regarded him thoughtfully. ‘Must you do anything, Alexander?’

He looked away. That was what his poor mother had called him, and, in a very different tone, his father and brother; the name held all manner of memories he did not care to recall, and so he had discarded it at Oxford and never used it now if he could help it. ‘If it were only my own reputation at stake… But from what you tell me, it is not.’

‘Well, we cannot do anything to mend the credit of some obscure young woman who lives in Italy and may never know anything about the matter. But for Miss Constantine, I think we can and must.’ Her tone was calm and confident, and he could not help but note, though he had no time to worry about it just now, that Aunt Deborah had not thought to come out and ask him whether there was the slightest hint of truth in the rumours.

He was aware that he must be looking alarmed; his aunt, as his experiences last year had proved, was an unstoppable force of nature, once she had the bit between her teeth. ‘I don’t see how. As Miss Constantine herself has said, it is vital that we are not seen together now that these pernicious rumours are circulating about us. Thank God she has finished Adrian’s portrait. If we have no contact, I hope that they will gradually fade away into nothing and be forgotten.’

‘I think that’s a mistake,’ Aunt Deborah said, helping herself calmly to poached asparagus. ‘It seems unfair to her, too; I am sure that she depends on maintaining some level of reputation in order to function successfully as an artist; without it, even if she still gains commissions, she will be subject to all manner of offence and nuisance, men being what they are. We must put a stop to it. I will put a stop to it.’

‘I have no idea how,’ he said again, trying not to let his trepidation show in his voice.

‘I don’t suppose you do, and I confess, just at the moment neither do I. But I promise you, I will think of something.’

The worst thing was, Xan was reasonably sure that she would. Once more he experienced the highly disagreeable sensation that his life was spiralling far beyond his control. He had no idea what would happen next, but he was reasonably confident that it would be something horrible.

But she had not done with the topic, and his misgivings grew as she continued, ‘You should be out in society more – well, it is ridiculous to say more, when you do not socialise at all. No wonder people gossip about you, when they never see you. If you ever mean to marry again, which surely you must, given your situation, you cannot imagine that the way to set about it is never to lay eyes on any young women of birth and breeding. Yes, I like the idea of killing two birds with one stone, as the saying goes; it is agreeably efficient.’

Xan only hoped that in this instance he might not prove to be one of the unfortunate birds, but it seemed all too likely that he would be.