Читать книгу The Mistress of Hanover Square - Anne Herries, Anne Herries - Страница 7

Amelia stood for a moment on the steps of her house in Hanover Square, gazing across to the Earl of Ravenshead’s London home, which was at the far side. She knew that he was not in residence and supposed that he was at his estate in the country. It was only because she had wanted to do some shopping for Christmas and deliver some gifts that she and her companion had themselves come to town for a few days. She had hoped that she might perhaps meet the earl, at the theatre or at some other affair, but it had not happened.

‘Is something wrong?’ Emily Barton asked.

Amelia looked at her in surprise and then realised that she had sighed. Her companion was a sensitive girl and always seemed to know when Amelia was out of sorts.

‘No, I was merely wondering if I had forgotten anything. I should not wish to arrive at Pendleton and then remember something I had left behind.’

‘I am sure you will not.’ Emily smiled at her. ‘I helped Martha pack your trunks and I am certain nothing was left out.’

‘Thank you, my love. I know I can always rely on your good sense.’

‘You are not upset by your brother’s visit, I hope?’

For a moment Amelia’s eyes clouded. Her brother, Sir Michael Royston, had paid her a brief but intensely unpleasant visit to complain. He always seemed to be in a temper these days and Amelia had come to dread his visits.

‘No, dearest. As you know, my brother is…difficult. However, I am not upset.’ She took Emily’s arm. ‘Come, we must not keep the horses standing. I want to make good time, for the sky has all the appearance of bad weather and I would like to get to Pendleton before it turns to snow.’

‘I am looking forward to spending Christmas with our friends,’ Emily said and smiled as she glanced across the carriage. They had been travelling for some time now and the streets of London had given way to pleasant countryside. ‘Before I came to you, Amelia, Christmas was always a time of regret.’

‘Was it, my love?’ Amelia Royston looked at Emily in concern. She was aware of her companion’s secret sorrow, but it was something Emily hardly ever spoke of. ‘Are you happier now that you have been living with me for more than a year?’

‘Oh yes, much. If only—’ Emily broke off and shook her head. ‘No, we shall not think of things that make us sad. Do you think that the Earl of Ravenshead will be at Pendleton this year?’

‘Susannah said nothing of it when she wrote to invite us,’ Amelia said, and a faint colour stained her cheeks. It almost seemed that Emily was reading her thoughts. ‘Why do you ask, Emily?’

‘Forgive me, perhaps I ought not to have spoken, but I thought…in the Season and at Helene’s wedding earlier this year…I did think that perhaps there might be something—’ Emily broke off and shook her head. ‘It was not my place to ask…’

‘Have I not told you that you may say anything to me, Emily? We are friends and have no secrets from each other. Since you ask, I shall tell you that I did think Gerard might speak some eighteen months ago, but he was called to France on family business. When we met him in London this year he paid me some attention, but…’ Amelia sighed. ‘I think now it was merely friendship he had in mind for us. There was a time when we might have married, but my brother sent him away. He married another woman some months later, which must mean that he did not suffer from our parting as I did.’

‘You cannot be sure of that, Amelia. The earl may have married for various reasons. Perhaps it was on the rebound?’ Emily frowned. ‘I think you told me his wife has since died?’

‘Gerard told me she was ill after the birth of their daughter and never recovered. I think that perhaps he is still grieving for her.’

‘He will surely wish to marry again, if only for the sake of his daughter.’

‘Yes, perhaps—though I am not sure I should wish to be married for such a reason.’

‘I did not mean…please do not think I meant that he would marry you for the sake of his child,’ Emily apologised and looked upset. ‘I believe he likes you very well, Amelia.’

‘Yes,I believe we are good friends,’ Amelia agreed.

She leaned her head back against the squabs, closing her eyes. It would be very foolish of her to give way to emotion. She had cried too many tears when Gerard went away the first time. He had vowed that he loved her with all his heart, asked her to be his wife and then simply disappeared. When she was told he had joined the army, she had suffered a broken heart. She had not understood then that her brother had forced him to walk away from her—and threatened him and used violence. His desertion had left her feeling abandoned and distraught. When she first saw him again in company some four years later, she had been overwhelmed, and it had taken all her selfcontrol not to show her feelings.

Gerard had been polite and friendly, but then, when someone had attempted to abduct Amelia when she was staying at Pendleton the summer before last, Gerard had been so concerned for her. She had believed then that he still cared, had begun to hope that he might speak, but he had been called away to France.

They had met again this summer. Gerard had been as generous, polite and kind as ever, but still he had not spoken of marriage. Of course there was no reason why he should. Too much time had passed, more than five years. If he had ever felt anything for her it had gone, or at least faded to a gentle affection. It was foolish of her to hope that he might feel more than mere friendship.

She opened her eyes and saw that Emily was looking upset.

‘You have not distressed me, dearest.’ Amelia smiled at her. ‘We are almost there. I am so looking forward to seeing Susannah and Harry again.’

‘I should never wish to distress you, Amelia. You have done so much for me, taking me in when many would have turned me from their door, because of my shame…’

‘Do not look like that, Emily. You have more than repaid me for any kindness I have shown you. As for your shame—I will not have you speak of yourself in such a way. Come, smile and look forward to spending Christmas at Pendleton.’

‘Amelia dearest,’ Susannah exclaimed and kissed her on both cheeks. ‘You look wonderful. That colour green always becomes you so well—and Emily, how pretty you look!’

‘Oh, no…’ Emily shook her head and blushed. ‘It is this bonnet. I admired it in a milliner’s window and Amelia bought it for me without my knowing. She said it was the very thing to brighten my winter wardrobe and of course she was right. She has such excellent taste.’

‘Yes, she does.’ Susannah looked fondly at Amelia. ‘I may be biased, but I think Amelia is everything that is perfect and good.’

‘Between the two of you, you will turn my head. I shall become impossible and start expecting to be treated like a duchess.’

Susannah trilled with laughter. ‘You deserve to be a duchess,’ she said. ‘You must both come up to the nursery and see my little Harry. He is such a darling. His father thinks he is the most wonderful child ever born. I cannot begin to tell you all the plans he is making for when he can walk and go to school.’

‘I always knew Harry Pendleton would be a doting father,’ Amelia said, much amused.

‘He spoils me dreadfully,’ Susanna confessed as she led her friends up to their chambers. ‘I’ve given you the apartments we had when I first stayed here, Amelia. I was so terrified of Harry’s relatives and this vast house. I could not imagine how I should cope with it, but everything runs like clockwork. I hardly have to do a thing—just as Harry’s mama told me it would be. And we always have guests so it is never too big or lonely, because people love to stay here. We shall have some twenty or thirty invited guests this Christmas, but it is quite possible that as many more will simply arrive on our doorstep. I tell Harry it is because he is such a generous host, but he thinks it is because they are all in love with me.’

‘I dare say it is a mixture of both,’ Amelia told her and smiled. She was delighted that her friend had not changed one bit since she became Lady Pendleton. She might not be quite as impulsive as when she had first visited town as Amelia’s guest, but if anything her confidence had grown.

Susannah took them to the nursery, where the young heir was being prepared for bed by his nurse. After some twenty minutes or so admiring the admittedly beautiful child, Amelia and Emily were taken to the apartment they were to share during the Christmas period. It had three bedrooms and a sitting room, which was pleasant if one wished to escape from the rest of the company at times, and was quite a privilege.

Amelia allowed Emily to choose the bedchamber she liked best, and was pleased when her friend chose the one Susannah had used during that first visit. It meant she could take the room she preferred, and felt perfectly at home in.

After Susannah left them to settle in, Amelia walked to the window and looked out. Her view was of the lake and park, and, as she watched for a moment, she saw three horsemen canter to a halt and dismount. They had obviously been out riding together for pleasure and were in high good humour. Her breath caught in her throat as she heard laughter and caught sight of one familiar face. So Gerard was to be one of the guests this Christmas!

Amelia realised that she had been hoping for it, her heart beginning to thump with excitement. Oh, how foolish she was! Just because Gerard was here did not mean that he would speak of marriage. Why should he indeed? Had he wished to, he had had ample opportunity to do so before this.

She turned away to glance in the mirror. She was still attractive, but she was no longer a young girl. It was quite ridiculous to fancy herself in love; the time for such things had passed her by. The most she could hope for now would be a marriage of convenience, as Emily had suggested on the way to Pendleton. If perhaps Gerard were looking for a mother for his daughter, he might consider Amelia a suitable choice.

Amelia shook her head, dismissing her thoughts as a flight of fancy. There were a dozen young and beautiful girls Gerard might think of taking as his wife. Why should he look at a woman of her age? She had just turned eight and twenty. Besides, he was probably still grieving for the wife he had lost. Why had he married only a few months after their parting? Her brother Michael had behaved disgracefully to Gerard, of course, but why had he not told Amelia at the time the real reason behind his sudden departure? She would have run away with him had he asked her then.

No, if he had ever loved her, his love had faded and died.

She must not spend her time dreaming of something that would never happen!

Her thoughts turned to her companion. She knew that this time of year was often sad for Emily, because of her secret sorrow. None of their friends knew of Emily’s secret, but she had told Amelia the truth when they first met. In doing so she had risked losing the chance of a good position, for many would have turned her away. Amelia had admired her honesty. She had done everything she could to make Emily forget the past, but nothing could take away the ache Emily carried inside.

Amelia was thoughtful as she prepared to go downstairs. She was almost sure that Mr Toby Sinclair would be a guest at Pendleton that Christmas. He had paid Emily some attention earlier in the year, but nothing had come of it. If he were to offer for her…but nothing was certain. Amelia would not put the idea into her companion’s mind, but if it happened she would be delighted.

If it did not, perhaps there was something she might be able to do to help the girl she had come to love almost as a sister.

Amelia was glad that she had seen Gerard from her window; the knowledge that he was here at Pendleton made it possible for her to meet him without that element of surprise she might otherwise have felt. She was able to greet him in the drawing room later that evening with perfect serenity.

‘How nice to see you here, sir,’ she said, offering her hand and giving no sign that her heart was beating rather too fast. ‘People are arriving all the time. I think Susannah will have a great many guests this Christmas.’

‘Yes, I imagine she will,’ Gerard agreed. He held her hand briefly. ‘How are you, Miss Royston? I trust you have had no further trouble since I last saw you?’

‘None at all, sir—except for a raid by some foxes on our hen houses. But I know you did not mean that.’ Amelia laughed softly. ‘You are referring to the abduction attempt made the summer before last when we were all here together, I imagine?’

‘Yes, I was. I am glad nothing more has happened to disturb your peace.’ He looked at her thoughtfully. ‘I am glad that you are here this Christmas. I was hoping that I might have a private conversation with you concerning my daughter? I would rather like your advice.’

‘I should be delighted to help you if I am able.’ As he smiled, Amelia’s heart stopped for one moment, and then raced on madly. ‘Of course, my experience with children is limited to my orphans and the children of friends—but I am fond of them.’

‘It is your feeling as a woman of compassion that I need,’ Gerard assured her. One of the other guests was headed towards them; from her manner and gestures she was clearly intent on speaking with Amelia. ‘This is not the time, however—perhaps tomorrow we might take a walk in the gardens?’

‘Yes, certainly,’ Amelia agreed. Her smile and quiet manner continued undisturbed. Gerard had asked for help with his daughter and she was quite willing to give it if she could, even if she could not help wishing that his request to walk with her had stemmed from a very different desire. Seeing him, being close to him, had aroused feelings that were not appropriate for a woman who was unlikely to marry. She closed her mind to the tantalising visions of herself in his arms…his bed. That way lay disaster and heartbreak! She must remember her dignity at all times. As a young woman she had not hesitated to confess her love, but things were different now. ‘I am available to you at any time, my lord.’

‘Do you not think we could be Gerard and Amelia?’ he asked. ‘We are friends of some long standing, I think?’

‘Yes, indeed we are,’ Amelia agreed. For a moment the look in his eyes was so intense that she could not breathe. He should not look at her so if he wanted nothing more than friendship.

Their conversation was ended as they were drawn into the company. Susannah’s guests were of all ages and included some young people, who had been allowed to come down to dinner because it was nearly Christmas. The eclectic mix of young and old, Harry’s relatives and friends of the couple, made for a lively evening. The younger members were sent to bed after their meal, but the older guests continued in their merry way until long past midnight.

It was not until the moment that she had decided to retire that Gerard approached Amelia once more.

‘Shall we say ten o’clock for our walk?’ he asked. ‘If that is not too early for you?’

‘I am always an early riser.’

‘You must wrap up well, for I think it may be a cold morning.’

‘I enjoy walking in any kind of weather, except a downpour,’ Amelia assured him.

Their arrangements made, Amelia went upstairs to the apartment she shared with Emily. She saw that Emily was looking thoughtful and asked her if she had enjoyed the evening.

‘You did not find the young company too much, dearest?’

‘It was a delightful evening,’ Emily assured her. ‘Mr Sinclair and I joined in a guessing game with some of the young people at the dinner table. I do not know when I have had such fun.’ A wistful expression came to her eyes. ‘I was an only child and I doubt I shall have…’ She blinked hard, as if to stop herself crying. ‘I am certain Mr Sinclair means to make me an offer, Amelia. What shall I do?’

‘I believe you should tell him the truth. He will keep your confidence—Toby Sinclair is a true gentleman. If he still wishes for the marriage, he will make it clear to you.’

‘And if he does not?’ Emily lifted her head as if to seek guidance and then nodded as she answered her own question. ‘I must bear it. You are quite right, Amelia. I cannot be less than truthful, though it may make things awkward for the rest of our stay here.’

‘Perhaps if you could prevent him speaking for a few days, and then tell him just before we leave. If he needs time to consider his feelings, he would have his chance before following us to Coleridge.’

‘You are so wise and sensible,’ Emily said and looked relieved. ‘I shall do my best to avoid being alone with him until the day before we leave.’

‘Try not to brood on the outcome.’ Amelia kissed her cheek. ‘I believe it may all turn out better than you imagine, dearest.’

Having done her best to reassure her friend, Amelia went to her own room. She dismissed her maid as soon as the girl had undone the little hooks at the back of her gown, preferring to be alone with her thoughts. It was easier to settle Emily’s doubts than her own, for she had no doubt that Toby Sinclair was deeply in love. It was more difficult to understand Gerard Ravenshead’s feelings.

Sometimes his look seemed to indicate that he felt a strong emotion for her, but at others his expression was brooding and remote. They were friends, but was that all? These days it seemed that Gerard thought of her as a mature lady in whom he might confide his worries concerning his daughter. He could have no idea of the passionate and improper thoughts his nearness aroused in her. She must be careful to conceal her feelings, otherwise there might be some embarrassment.

‘No! No, Lisette…I beg you…do not do it…forgive me…’ Gerard Ravenshead’s arm twitched, his head moving from side to side as he sat in the deep wing chair in the library at Pendleton. He was dreaming…a dream he had had too many times before. ‘No, I say! Stop…the blood…the blood…’ He screamed out and woke to find himself in a room where the fire had gone cold and the candles burned out.

Unable to sleep, he had dressed and come down to read for a while and fallen into a fitful sleep. He hoped that his nightmare had woken no one. Having gone for some months without one, he had thought they were finished, but something had brought it all back to him.

Gerard rose from the chair and walked over to the window, gazing out as the light strengthened. It was dawn and another night had gone.

The library was an impressive, long room with glassfronted bookcases on three walls, a magnificent desk, occasional tables and comfortable chairs, and three sets of French windows to let in maximum light. Gerard was an avid reader and, when at home in his house in Hanover Square, often sat late into the night reading rather than retiring to his bedchamber, where he found it impossible to sleep. Indeed, he could hardly remember a night when he had slept through until morning.

Gerard was a handsome man, tall, broad in the shoulder with strong legs that looked particularly well in the riding breeches he most often wore. His coats had never needed excessive padding at the shoulder. His hair was very dark but not black, his eyes grey and sometimes flinty. His expression was often brooding, stern, perhaps because his thoughts caused him regret. At this moment he wore a pair of buffcoloured breeches and topboots and his fine linen shirt was opened to the waist. A glass of wine was to hand, but he had scarcely touched it. Gerard had long ago discovered that there was no forgetfulness in a wine bottle.

Before falling into a restless sleep, he had spent the night wrestling with his problem. His daughter was in need of feminine company, and not just that of nursemaids or a governess. He too was in need of a female companion: a woman with whom he could share his hopes and dreams, a woman he could admire and respect. In short, he needed a wife. Having made one mistake with the young French girl he had married out of pity, he did not wish to make another. Easy enough to find a mistress or even a young woman willing to become Countess Ravenshead, but there was only one woman Gerard wanted as his wife—the woman he had been denied when he was a young man and head over heels in love.

He touched the scar at his right temple, the only blemish on a strong and handsome face, his eyes darkening at the memory it aroused. Amelia’s brother had instructed his servants to beat him when he dared to ask for her hand as a young man; he had not been wealthy enough to please the proud Sir Michael Royston! However, it was not fear of Sir Michael’s displeasure that made Gerard hesitate to ask Amelia Royston if she would be his wife now. Guilt weighed heavily on his conscience, because he had not told anyone the whole truth concerning his wife’s death. It was the reason for his nightmares.

‘Damn you, Lisette. Let me be…’ His eyes were dark with memories as he relived the dream. ‘So much blood…so much blood…’

She had been ill for a long time after the birth of her child, but it was not that illness that had caused her death. Lisette had died by her own hand.

He found her with her wrists cut in a bath of warm water. She was still alive when he dragged her from the bath, but barely breathing. He had tried frantically to save her, sending his servant for the doctor, but his efforts were in vain and she was dead when the doctor arrived. Lisette had been buried and Gerard mourned the loss of a young life.

He had not loved her, but she haunted his dreams because he blamed himself for her death. He had married her out of pity, because she was young, alone and with child, abandoned by her lover in a country that was not her own. He knew that the father of her child was an English officer, but Lisette had never named him. His own dreams turned to dust, Gerard had done what he believed was the right thing—a good thing—but he had been unable to love her; when Lisette finally understood that, she had taken her own life.

‘I am so sorry…so very sorry…’

Gerard had never been able to confess the truth to another living soul. He carried it inside, where it continued to fester. If he allowed his guilt to haunt him, it would ruin his life. Gerard had no idea whether or not Amelia would marry him if he asked her. What would she think if she knew the truth concerning his wife’s death?

He had been on the point of asking her to be his wife once, but an urgent message had sent him hurrying to his daughter’s side in France. Little Lisa was a demanding child and she did not like her papa to leave her for long periods. Realising she needed more than her nurses, Gerard had brought her to England and placed her in the charge of an English nanny, but neither Lisa nor her papa was truly content.

Gerard had reached the conclusion that he would never know true happiness unless he asked Amelia Royston to be his wife. He could not marry her without confessing his secret, which was one of the reasons why he had hesitated so long, for he feared that she would turn from him in disgust. He had wanted to die on the battlefield the first time he lost Amelia; to let himself hope and then lose her a second time would destroy him.

This was ridiculous! He was a man of six and thirty and should be able to face up to the truth without fear of rejection. It might be better if he forgot about marriage altogether. He had broken Lisette’s heart, causing her to commit suicide. Perhaps he would do better to remain unwed.

Amelia saw Gerard waiting for her the next morning as she went down to the hall. He was wearing a long coat with several capes, a warm muffler bound about his throat and a fur hat in the Russian style. He smiled his approval as he saw that she too was wearing a thick cloak and muffler, her gloved hands tucked inside a fur muff that hung suspended from a chain about her neck.

‘I see you are prepared for the weather, Amelia. There is a fine frost this morning.’

‘As there should be for Christmas Eve,’ she replied. ‘I think it will be just right for a brisk walk about the gardens, sir.’

‘My daughter would not agree with you.’ Gerard looked rueful. ‘I believe I was wrong to leave her so long in France. She finds our English weather cold and damp and asks constantly when do we return to Paris.’

‘Do you think of leaving England permanently?’ Amelia asked, doing her best to conceal her feeling of acute disappointment.

‘I considered it for a while,’ Gerard confessed. ‘However, I have decided that I should prefer to live in England where I have friends rather than mere acquaintances. Lisa must come to terms with the situation. I believe she will be happier once the summer comes.’

‘I think you may have been in the habit of giving her her own way?’ Amelia tipped her head to one side, her eyebrows slightly raised.

‘Yes, I have spoiled her,’ Gerard admitted and laughed. ‘She is a little charmer and I fear that I may have given in too often to her whims—which may be why she is giving poor Nanny such a difficult time. I hear complaints that she is sometimes sulky and unresponsive, though with me she is very different.’

Amelia was thoughtful. ‘Is the nanny well recommended?’

‘Her references were good. She came from a family with whom she had served for more than six years. However, I have wondered if she is a little too strict with the child. I may have been too lenient, but I would not have Lisa’s life made a misery. It is not easy for a man alone…’ Gerard glanced at Amelia, a rueful look in his eyes. ‘I feel in need of a lady’s advice. Some ladies take little interest in their children. They feel their duty is done once the heir is produced, but you make it your business to care for unfortunate children. You might be able to tell me what to do for the best as far as my daughter is concerned.’

Amelia kept her smile in place despite her disappointment. It was as she had feared—he wanted only to discuss his daughter. ‘I would need to see Lisa and her nanny together. It would be best if it happened casually. If Nanny knows she is being observed, I should learn nothing.’

‘You understand at once, as I knew you would,’ Gerard said, looking pleased. ‘I brought Lisa to Pendleton with me, though I did not allow her to come down to dinner last evening for she is not ready yet. However, she will be present at the children’s party this afternoon. Susannah has lots of small presents and prizes for the young ones. I shall be there. Perhaps…if it is not too much trouble?’ He arched his brows at her.

‘I had intended to be there anyway. I enjoy these things and Susannah will need a little help to organise the games and present giving. It will be no trouble to observe your daughter and her nanny.’

‘How generous you are…’ He paused as Amelia gave an impatient shake of her head. ‘It will be good to have a lady’s opinion in this matter. I have no female relations that I may call upon.’

‘Does your late wife not have a family?’

‘I have no idea. I met Lisette after a bloody battle between the French and the Spanish troops. She had been ill used and I took pity on her. I married her to protect her and to give her unborn child my name. She never spoke of her family. I imagine they were killed during the conflict…’ Gerard was looking straight ahead, a nerve flicking at his temple. ‘I knew nothing about her, except that she was French and clearly of gentle birth.’

‘You love the child very much, do you not?’

‘I fell in love with her when she was born. I was present and helped bring her into the world for there were few doctors available to us—and so she became mine.’ Gerard glanced towards her. ‘After I left England, I was a disappointed man, Amelia. At one time I had nothing to live for. Indeed, I might have welcomed death on the battlefield. I married Lisette because it seemed the best way to protect her and I had abandoned all hope of happiness…but when her child was born I loved the child from the first moment of seeing her.’

‘Yes, you mentioned something of this once before.’Amelia looked thoughtful. ‘You said that your wife was ill for a long time after the child’s birth?’

‘She took no interest in the babe at all. I was able to secure the services of a wetnurse. Often I cared for the child myself, changing her and feeding her as she began to take solid foods. Lisette had no interest in anything for a long time. When she recovered a little…’ He shook his head, as she would have questioned him. ‘After she died, I engaged the services of a nurse, and when the war was over I made the decision to keep Lisa in France with me. At that time I was not sure what to do for the best.’

‘You thought you might live there because your child’s mother was French?’

‘I must confess that for a while I considered leaving the child in France with a nurse,’ he admitted. ‘I was a soldier, a single man—and my estate was in some trouble. I have rectified that now, though I am not as rich as Pendleton or Coleridge.’ He gave Amelia a rueful look. ‘When we first met I had hardly any fortune at all. I dare say that was the reason Sir Michael did not consider me a worthy husband for his sister.’

‘He had no right to send you away.’ Amelia hesitated, then lifted her gaze to meet his because she needed to ask. ‘Why did you not send me word of what happened? Surely you knew that I would have gone with you had you asked? I would not have allowed Michael to prevent our marriage if I had known. I suspected that he had had a hand in it, but when you told me what he did to you—’ She broke off and sighed. ‘It was a wicked thing that Michael did to you—to us…’

‘I ought to have known you would elope with me, despite what your brother said when he had me beaten,’ Gerard admitted. ‘I suppose I was humiliated and angry—even bitter. I was not certain that you loved me enough to defy him. At that time I did not expect to be my uncle’s heir. He had a son who should have inherited. Had my cousin not died of a putrid chill, I must have made my living as a soldier. Perhaps your brother had some right on his side, Amelia.’

‘No, he did not,’ she contradicted at once. ‘Your lack of fortune meant nothing to me, Gerard.’

‘I am no longer a pauper. I have worked hard and my business ventures prosper. However, your own fortune surpasses mine these days. I well remember that you had nothing when I asked you to be my wife.’

‘I did not expect that to change. It was a surprise when my greataunt asked me to live with her—and when she left everything to me. She had told me that I would have something when she died, but I had no idea that she was so wealthy.’

‘It was a stroke of luck for you, I suppose.’

‘Yes…though it has its drawbacks. My brother and sister-in-law are resentful of the fact that I inherited a fortune they believe should have gone to them. Michael has been unpleasant to me on more than one occasion since my aunt died.’

‘They had no right to expect it. Lady Agatha might have left her money anywhere.’

‘Indeed, she might,’ Amelia said. ‘I believe her deceased husband also had relatives who might have hoped for something—but they at least have not approached me on the matter.’

‘And your brother has?’ His brows arched, eyes narrowed and intent.

‘Several times,’ Amelia said. ‘It has been the subject of endless arguments between us. Michael thinks I should make most of the money over to him. I have no intention of doing what he demands, but it has made for bad blood between us.’ She hesitated, then, ‘I have not spoken of this to anyone but Emily—but his last visit was almost threatening. I was a little disturbed by it, I admit.’

‘Sir Michael is of a violent temperament…’

Amelia was silent for a moment, then, ‘You are thinking it might have been he who tried to have me abducted at Pendleton the summer before last? I believe you thought it then?’

‘It is possible, but I may have been mistaken. My own encounter with him may have coloured my thinking. If it was him, why has he not carried the threat further? Why stop at one attempt?’

‘I do not know. For a long time I thought that there might be another attempt, but nothing happened.’

‘It is puzzling. The likely explanation seems that it was actually Susannah who was the intended victim and you were mistaken for her. As you know, there was some awkwardness between the Marquis of Northaven and Harry Pendleton at that time.’

‘That is one possibility, and yet I cannot think that we are alike. Emily is convinced that my brother means me harm. She overheard something he said to me some months ago and she suggested that he would benefit if I died.’

‘Would he?’

‘At the moment he is the largest, though not the only, beneficiary.’

Gerard nodded. ‘It might be wise to change that and let it be known that you have done so, Amelia.’

Amelia’s expression was thoughtful. ‘I cannot think that Michael would wish to see me dead—even for a fortune. My brother is bad tempered and arrogant, but I would not have thought him a murderer.’

‘It would not hurt to take some precautions. I could arrange for you to be watched over—as I did once before. And changes to your will might help if you would consider making them.’

‘Yes, I may do so after the New Year. We are to attend Helene and Max’s ball at Coleridge. Shall you be there?’

‘Yes, I believe so,’ Gerard said. ‘As you know, both Harry and Max are particular friends of mine.’

‘And their wives are good friends of mine,’Amelia said. ‘I should be grateful if you could arrange some kind of protection, for Emily as well as me. I have no idea how it may be done and it may not truly be necessary. I shall, of course, pay the men myself.’

‘As you wish,’ Gerard said. ‘The breeze is very cold. I think we may have some snow. Should we return to the house before we freeze to death?’

‘Yes, perhaps we should,’ Amelia replied.

She had the oddest feeling that he had been on the verge of saying something very different, but at the last he had changed his mind. Nothing more of note was said between them, and they parted after returning to the house. She pondered on what might have been in Gerard’s mind as she went in search of her hostess.

It was good of him to say that he would find suitable men to protect her if he thought her in danger from her brother’s spite. If, of course, it was her brother she needed protecting from…but who else could it be?

‘What made you think I would be interested in such an outrageous proposition?’ The Marquis of Northaven looked at the person sitting opposite him in the private parlour of the posting inn to which he had been summoned that evening. He had considered ignoring the note sent to his lodgings in town, but curiosity and a certain intuition had brought him here. However, to the best of his knowledge he had never met the gentleman before. ‘Kidnapping is a hanging offence…’

‘I had heard that you have a score to settle with a certain gentleman.’

‘Where did you hear that?’ Northaven was alert, suspicious. The other man’s features were barely visible in the shadows, his face halfcovered by the muffler he wore to keep out the cold.

‘One hears these things…of course there would be money once the ransom was paid.’

‘Money…’ Northaven’s mouth curved in a sneer, a flash of hauteur in his manner. ‘I have not yet run through the inheritance my uncle left me.’

‘Then forget I asked you. I had thought you might care to see Ravenshead brought down, but if you do not have the stomach for it there are others willing, nay, eager to do my bidding.’

‘How would this bring Ravenshead down?’ Northaven asked, eyes narrowed, menacing.

‘He imagines he will marry Amelia Royston. I do not wish to see that happen. Once I have finished with her, she will marry no one!’

The Marquis of Northaven shivered, feeling icy cold. He had done much in his life that he was not proud of, but something in the tone of the person who was asking him to arrange Amelia Royston’s downfall was disturbing. Northaven had seduced more than one young woman, but contrary to what was said and thought of him, he had taken none against their will. Indeed, they usually threw themselves into his arms—and why should he say no? Handsome beyond what many thought decent, he had an air of unavailability that made him irresistible to many ladies. He was by no means a white knight, but neither was he the traitor some thought him. He might cheat at cards when desperate; he might lie if it suited him and would not deny that he had sailed close to the edge a few times, but a cold-blooded murderer he was not.

Northaven had been angry with the men who had once been his friends. He had hated the holy trilogy, as he was wont to call Harry Pendleton, Max Coleridge and Gerard Ravenshead. He hated them because they despised him, believed him worse than he truly was, but with the turn in his fortunes of late much of his resentment had cooled. He would have dismissed the proposition being made to him out of hand, but he was curious to hear more.

‘Supposing I were interested in bringing down Ravenshead,’ he said. ‘What would you be willing to pay—and what do you plan for Miss Royston?’

‘I was thinking of ten thousand guineas. Her fate is not your affair. All you need to do is to deliver her to me.’

The words were delivered with such malice that Northaven’s stomach turned. He imagined that Miss Royston’s fate might be worse than death and it sickened him. He was well aware that Amelia Royston had once thought him guilty of the callous seduction and desertion of her friend; he had allowed her to believe it, but it was not true. A few months previously he might have left her to her fate. He had then been a bitter, angry man, but something had happened to him the day he watched a young girl marry the man she loved—the man she had risked everything to save when she thought he was about to die.

No woman had ever loved Northaven enough to take a ball in the shoulder for him. Susannah Hampton had been reckless and could easily have died had his aim been slightly to the left. The moment his ball had struck her shoulder, Northaven had felt remorse. He had been relieved when Susannah made a full recovery. Something drove him to mingle with the crowd on her wedding day. When her eyes met his as she left the church on her husband’s arm, they had seemed to ask a question. He had answered it with a nod of his head and he believed she understood. His feud with her husband was over.

He had not fallen in love with her. Yet she had touched him in a way he had never expected. He had suddenly realised where he was headed if he continued on his reckless path: he would end a lonely, bitter man. For a while the resentment against his onetime friends had continued to burn inside him, but of late he had felt more at peace with himself.

Perhaps at last he had found the way to redeem himself.

‘Let me think about it,’ he said. ‘Ten thousand guineas is a fair sum—and I have no love for Ravenshead. Give me a few days and I shall decide.’

‘Meet me here again in two days and I will tell you more. We can do nothing over Christmas. Miss Royston goes to Coleridge in the New Year—and that will be our chance…’