 Brought to you by Penguin APRIL LADY by Georgeette Hayer read by Tanya Reynolds CHAPTER I There was silence in the book-room. Not the silence of intimacy, but a silence fraught with tension. My lady's blue eyes, staring across the desk into my lord's cool grey ones, dropped to the pile of bills under his hand. Her fair head was hung, and her nervous hands clasped one another tightly. In spite of a modish and very expensive morning dress of twilled French silk, and the smart crop achieved for her golden curls by the most fashionable coiffure in London, she looked absurdly youthful, like a schoolgirl called out in mischief. She was, in fact, not yet nineteen years old, and she had been married for nearly a year to the gentleman standing on the other side of the desk, and so steadily regarding her. Well—she swallowed rather convulsively. The earl had spoken quite gently, but her ears were quick to catch the note of implacability in his voice. She stole a scared look up at him, and dropped her eyes again, colouring. He was not frowning, but there was no doubt that he meant to obtain an answer to the quite unanswerable question he had put to his earring-bride. Another silence fell, broken only by the ticking of the large clock on the mantelpiece. My lady gripped her fingers so tightly together that they whitened. I asked you, Nell, why all these tradesmen—the earl lifted the bills and let them fall again—have found it necessary to apply to me for the settlement of their accounts? I am very sorry, faltered the countess. But that doesn't answer my question, he said dryly. Well—well, I expect it was because I—because I forgot to pay them myself. Forgot? Lower sank her golden head. She swallowed again. Under the hatches yet again, Nell. She nodded guiltily, her colour deepening. His expression was inscrutable, and for a moment he said nothing. His gaze seemed to consider her. But what thoughts were running in his head? It would have been impossible to have guessed. I appeared to make you a very inadequate allowance, he observed. The knowledge that the allowance he made her was a very handsome one caused her to cast an imploring glance up at him and to stammer, oh, no, no! Then why are you in debt? I have bought things which perhaps I should not, she said desperately. This—this gown, for instance—indeed, I am sorry, I won't do so any more. May I see your paid bills? This was said more gently still, and it effectively drove the flush from her cheeks. They became as white as they had before been read. To be sure, she had any number of receited bills, but none knew better than she that their total, staggering though it might seem to the daughter of an impoverished peer, did not account for half of that handsome allowance which was paid quarterly to her bankers. At any moment now my lord would ask the question she dreaded, and dared not answer truthfully. It came. Three months ago, Nell, said the Earl, in a measured tone, I forbad you most straightly to pay any more of your brother's debts. You gave me your word that you would not. Have you done so? She shook her head. It was dreadful to lie to him, but what else was to be done when he looked so stern and had shown himself so unsympathetic to poor Dysart? It was true that Dysart's recurring difficulties were all due to his shocking luck, and it seemed that Cardros couldn't understand how unjust it was to blame Dysart for his inability to abandon gaming and racing. That fatal tendency, said Mamar, with resignation, ran in the family. Grand Papa had died under a cloud of debt, and Papa, with a hopeful intention of restoring the fortunes of his house, had still more heavily mortgaged his estates. That was why Papa had been so overjoyed when Cardros had offered for her hand, for Cardros was as well-born as he was wealthy, and Papa had previously been obliged to face the horrid necessity of giving his eldest daughter to the highest bidder, even dreadful thought, if this should prove to be a rich merchant with social aspirations. He had done so with great fortitude, and he had had his reward. In her very first season, indeed, before she had been out a month, Cardros had not only seen the Lady Helen Irvine, but had apparently decided that she was the bride for whom he had so long waited. Such a piece of good fortune had never even occurred to Lord Pevensy. It was certainly to be supposed that Cardros passed thirty, and with no nearer relation than a cousin to succeed him, must be contemplating marriage in the not too distant future. But such was his consequence that he might have had the pick of all the damsels faithfully presented by— All complete. Ready to continue?