A Lady's Guide to Fortune-Hunting(66)

Miss Talbot absorbed this for a few moments. ‘He was a strict parent?’ she asked carefully.

He gave a snort of laughter. ‘You could say that. He was not fond of … too much enjoyment, of excess, my father. He thought one’s duty was to uphold the family’s reputation, every minute of the day – and he guarded ours fiercely.’

‘So when he sent you to Vienna with Wellington,’ Miss Talbot said quietly. ‘That was because …’

‘Because he thought me a damage to the family name? Yes. As a younger man I wanted to enjoy everything the world had to offer – the gambling, the drinking, the excess of it all. My father thought it dangerous. He thought having employment would force me to learn some humility, and since Wellington owed him a favour … I became his attaché.’

Miss Talbot sucked a slow breath in through her teeth.

‘Of course, he was not expecting war to resume,’ Radcliffe said heavily. ‘No one was. When it did, he demanded I return – but I could not leave then. It would have been the height of cowardice. I thought he might understand that, one day. That he might be … proud, in the end. But by the time I got home, after the war was over, he was already dead.’

This was the most he had spoken about his father – about their relationship – to anyone before, and it was a relief to say it all aloud – and still more so as Miss Talbot did not feel the need to fill the air with platitudes or false reassurances, instead allowing his confession to rest untouched in the air between them. Perhaps it ought to shock him more that he had chosen Miss Talbot – not Hinsley, not his mother – to unburden himself to, but Radcliffe found that he was not at all surprised by the turn the conversation had taken. In the past few weeks, it seemed that at every occasion they attended, he and Miss Talbot would end up like this, at the edges, sharing strange intimacies. He thought she could probably ask him almost anything and he would answer her.

Radcliffe took a gulp of lemonade, winced to find it singularly tasteless, and lowered his glass. ‘This sort of conversation is much better done over brandy,’ he said, lightening his voice.

‘I’ll take your word for it,’ Miss Talbot said, more gently than he would have thought her capable. ‘It was certainly my father’s favourite.’

‘He drank?’

‘Gambling was his chief vice,’ she corrected. ‘It was not a problem when he was a bachelor – gambling seems to be an accepted part of a gentleman’s life – but when he was disowned, he never could properly adjust to his change in circumstances. The debt grew quite rapidly from there.’

‘He started drinking then?’ Radcliffe asked.

‘No,’ Miss Talbot said. ‘He drank before. But after Mama died, he couldn’t stop. I’m sure it would have killed him if the typhoid had not.’

Radcliffe nodded. ‘And then everything was down to you?’

‘I suppose one could say that,’ said Miss Talbot thoughtfully. ‘But I had Beatrice, who is only a little younger, so it is not so bad. And, for all that they left us in quite a mess, I am grateful to my mother and father for such a happy childhood as we had. There was much laughter, in our house – and music, and love.’

‘You must think me very weak,’ he said conversationally. ‘For trying to escape a responsibility you have been shouldering for years.’

‘Not so,’ she said. ‘Though I do think you would benefit from thinking about it more simply.’

‘What do you mean?’ he asked, frowning.

‘You have the title, the wealth, the influence,’ she said. ‘You have a family that adores you, and though it might have pained me in the past, you are quite clever at protecting them when you try. I feel you are more than capable of choosing what kind of lord you would like to be.’

‘How does one choose, though?’ he could not help asking.

She shrugged. ‘You just do.’

He looked at her. She looked at him. For a moment, it felt as though they were the only two real people in the whole world, sitting there looking at each other, while the rest of London carried on. And then it broke.

‘I should go,’ Miss Talbot said, her voice sounding a little breathless all of a sudden. ‘I can see Pemberton looking for me.’

‘Ah yes, the general himself,’ Radcliffe said with an ironic twist to his lips. ‘Do, by all means, keep him away from me.’

‘Behave yourself,’ she said mischievously. ‘Remember, if all goes well, you are speaking of my future husband.’

‘As if I could forget it,’ he said.





Netley Cottage, Tuesday May 5th

Dearest Kitty,

What a shock it was, to receive your letter, with Lord Radcliffe’s frank upon the envelope. The post boy was quite agog to deliver it, and so unfortunately it was commonplace knowledge to the whole town by the end of the morning. Naturally, all manner of persons have found reasons to call upon us this afternoon. Rest assured we haven’t breathed a word, though this is more due to confusion than discretion – I knew you were on friendly terms with Radcliffe, but how are you closely enough acquainted with him to request he frank your letter?

Rest assured we are all well. Harriet is back to full strength (and nothing could ever bother Jane, of course). The weather, while poor at present, is not so inclement to keep us inside – which is all to the well, for the number of card games suited for three players is limited!