Читать книгу Regency Rumours - Juliet Landon - Страница 10

After helping to plant tulips without noticing her aunt’s unusual preoccupation with the task, Caterina went to her room to write her weekly epistle to her father and brother in Buxton. She followed this with a more chatty account of her doings to Sara, her younger sister.

Dearest Sara,

It has been such a week I cannot begin to tell you, but you recall saying how I must find someone with a perch phaeton and that nothing less will do? Well, I have, dear sister. Yes, just imagine your dear Cat bouncing along beside the handsomest gallant with shining top-boots and an hauteur such as you never saw. A marqess’s son, no less. We went to see his sister and her darling puppies today. She has children too. And we’ve been to a dance, a local affair where the men didn’t wear gloves, but good fun with more militia than one could dance with. So very dashing. My escort? Well, yes, I suppose I may befalling in love, which I could not tell to Father.

Oh, how I wish you could be here. Write to me soon. I have my French lesson next. Aunt Amelie lets me read to her from the Journal des Dames et de Modes and I am also reading The Mysteries of Udolpho at last and I have a new bonnet with strawberries on, and Aunt Amelie is getting a new seamstress called Millie. I am to learn how to ride side-saddle tomorrow.

Your ever loving sister who misses you. Cat.

Post Script, take good care of Father and Harry, won’t you? Aunt Amelie’s house is prettier than ours, but smaller. I’m learning to play the harp.

Lady Chester’s new house on Paradise Road was known only as Number Eighteen. Found for her by her agent, then extended and renovated to conform to Amelie’s requirements before her move, it had been on the same site in one form or another for close on three hundred years, growing and evolving through each new style, now more like a mansion than the original timbered cottage. From the road, the white stone façade was elegantly four-storied, the front door with a beautiful fanlight above and accessed by a paved bridge across the basement yard known as ‘the area'.

Through the large double gates along the adjoining wall, the land surrounding the house was more extensive than one might think. Here was not only a sizeable formal garden, a hothouse, kitchen gardens and an orchard, but also a square courtyard surrounded by the kitchen buildings, the servants’ quarters, offices and stores and, beyond all that, the coach house and stables.

In the Peak District of Derbyshire, Amelie’s previous existence had been countrified on a larger scale than this, her entertaining both lavish and frequent in accordance with her husband’s status. At Chester Hall she had tended the preserving of plums and the drying of apple rings, she had pickled walnuts and helped to lay down spare eggs in ash, store the pears, pot the beef and concoct lemon wine using brandy smuggled through Scarborough and Whitby. She had fish on her table from her own ponds and streams, her own ducks and geese, vegetables and fruit enough to send up to the Manchester house and, best of all, she had her own blooms to draw and paint. There was very little that Sir Josiah had denied her—intended, they both knew, to make up for what she could not have.

Being offered her niece’s company for the next phase of her life had required some consideration, but whereas it meant accepting a responsibility she had not anticipated, the diversions had so far been entertaining, even satisfying. Caterina was good company, eager to learn, intelligent, well-mannered and, thank heaven, possesssed of a natural grace that was easy to clothe. The new riding habit she had worn that morning fitted her shapely young figure like a dream, already attracting some admiration from the men and envy from the women.

They had gone riding in the park well before breakfast to avoid meeting certain acquaintances, and a party of young officers from the local militia at Kew had hung around them to stare and to vie for her attention. But Caterina had acquitted herself well and had even managed a comfortable trot attached to the head groom’s leading rein. Fortunately, they had not met anyone disagreeable to Amelie, who had already begun to reap the benefits of having attended the ball, for now there were several waves and smiles and calls of, ‘Good morning to you, Lady Chester.’

Clattering into the stable yard two hours later, however, was like a sneaky winter breeze to cool Amelie’s warm praise of her niece, for there, being walked up and down by a groom in Lord Elyot’s grey livery was a very large and glossy dark bay with a double-bridle. On a marble table in the front hall of the house lay a beaver hat, a pair of leather gloves and a riding whip, with a rather concerned Henry standing by to tell his mistress that Lord Elyot felt sure she would not mind him waiting.

Biting back the very obvious reply, she asked instead, ‘Where?’

‘In the morning room, m’lady.’

‘Very well, Henry. Caterina, go up and change, dear. Then go and take a little breakfast, then perhaps a little practice on the pianoforte. The new Haydn sonata we bought the other day—you might take a look at it.’ She would have given much to go with her instead of to the council of war in the morning room. The staircase seemed twice as high, for she knew why he had come at this early hour and why he had insisted on waiting.

Pausing only to remove her gloves, hat and veil, Amelie half-expected to see her visitor standing on the hearth with hands clasped behind his back, as her late husband had often done to hear an account of her activities. But Lord Elyot was reading the newspaper over by the window and did not hear Amelie’s quiet entry through the rattle of the paper as he fought with a wayward page.

She caught sight of herself in the round ornate mirror over the mantelshelf, like a miniature fashion plate of a highwaisted habit of soft violet velvet with a mandarin collar open at the neck to show the delicate ruffle of lace on her habitshirt. Her brown curls, however, were in a mess. No matter, she thought. Who was there to impress? She closed the door with a loud click, taking pleasure in the crash of paper as he turned, quickly.

‘Ah, Lady Chester. Do forgive me.’ He laid the crumpled heap of newspaper upon the table, then stood to perform an elegant bow.

‘You’ve waited all this time to apologise, my lord? Well, then, I shall accept it on condition that it never happens again. Which I think is a safe bet in the circumstances. Don’t you?’

His smile was full of admiration. ‘On the contrary, my lady, I think it an extremely dodgy one. In any case, I never apologise for kissing a woman. So very hypocritical.’

Refusing to be drawn further along that line, Amelie went to pick up the crumpled newspaper and, carrying it between her finger and thumb to the door, dropped it outside. ‘Then I think,’ she said, moving to the striped sofa, ‘that you had no need to wait so long.’ She waved a hand towards the nearest chair, trying to appear calm and in command of the situation. ‘If you do not mean to apologise, then what can be the purpose of your visit?’

‘Given your record of being out when I call, even when you’re in, I thought it wiser to be in first, while you were out, so that we could stand a fair chance of being in together. Eventually.’

‘Ah, to be of such importance,’ she sighed, gazing at the top of the sash window. ‘Can you bear to get to the point, I wonder?’

Slipping one hand into the front of his deep blue morning-coat, Lord Elyot pulled out a velvet reticule and passed it to her, dangling it by its long drawstrings. ‘Yours, I believe? Or that of a certain Ginny Hodge?’ he said.

Amelie’s heart pounded. This was horribly unexpected.

Frowning, she took it. ‘Who? Why would you think this was mine, my lord?’

He leaned back into the chair, making a steeple with his fingers. ‘For two reasons—one is that it had one of your visiting cards inside.’

‘Which this…Ginny person…could have stolen. How did you come by it?’

‘The man who picked it up after you had been mugged on the night you went up to the workhouse followed you home again. You were riding a donkey named Isabelle.’

‘Todd!’ The name escaped before she could prevent it.

‘Exactly. My coachman.’

So, he must have known of this for quite some time.

Her heart still hammered under the strain of staying calm. ‘And does this prove something, my lord? Apart from being robbed, is it a crime to ride one’s donkey at night?’

‘It is a crime to bribe His Majesty’s servants to release people in their custody,’ he said, quietly. ‘You did not quite manage it that time, but you have done it several times before through your servants, I understand. Those who live at the workhouse have been sent there by the authorities, my lady. By the Vestry, in other words. Any release must be done through the proper channels, not by stealth or bribery, or without permission. You sent a man up there to try again while you were with me at the Castle. Am I correct?’

‘So it was you who prevented—’ Unbidden, the words tripped out.

‘Prevented?’

‘Prevented that poor woman from giving birth to her child in decent surroundings,’ she snapped. ‘It was you, wasn’t it? You told them to keep her there at all costs because your father is the local magistrate who heads the Vestry who put her there in the first place. And no matter how inhumane, how stigmatising, how downright dangerous it is for a child to be born in a workhouse, your father’s interests must come first. Think how he would look if the poor unfortunates were cared for properly,’ she went on, striding across to the window. ‘Would he ever hold his head up in Richmond again?’

‘So you admit—’

‘What good would it do me to deny it?’ she said, sifting through the untidy pile of music sheets on top of the pianoforte. The Haydn sonata caught her eye as she hit the edges with a clack on the rosewood surface. She slammed them down. ‘Do your worst, my lord. There must be more serious crimes a woman can commit than trying to help those less prosperous than herself. If that’s so wrong, then it’s time the law was changed.’

‘It isn’t a crime when it’s done openly and above board. By your method, any gypsy or conman could bribe his way in and take his pick of anyone there, even a child, and whisk it away in the dark, never to be seen again. The rules are there to safeguard—’

‘I would have cared for them,’ she croaked, on the verge of tears. ‘I would have…oh, you would not understand. People like me are loose screws and addle-pates, are we not? And the women in that predicament not worth rescuing.’

‘Women who get themselves into that kind of predicament—’

She rounded on him, furiously. ‘Tell me, how does a woman do that, my lord? Any woman who gets herself with child will be the talk of the century, surely. Don’t talk such nonsense. And in any case, I am not a gypsy or a conman. I am Lady Chester and I know what women need.’

‘Then why could you not have gone to the Vestry with your suggestions?’

Sending him a withering look of scorn, she replied, ‘Because there was no time for all that. Do you think a woman can wait a week or two while the Vestry makes its mind up?’

‘So what about the men released from the pound since you came to Richmond? That was your doing too? And the child?’

‘Yes, and I’m proud of my success. The men were desperate. They had families to feed. The child had stolen a carrot. Yes, my lord, a carrot. There now, you can tell the noble Marquess how diligent you’ve been, and then I can remind you how accurate my prediction was, can’t I?’

‘About the end of our friendship? Well, yes, that’s quite a collection of skeletons you have in your closet. It must be quite a large closet, for there are still more to come, I believe.’

‘Let me help you out, my lord, to spare you the effort. You have my card with my old Buxton address on it, so you sent your man up there to rake up all the tittle-tattle he could find about Sir Josiah and Lady Chester. And how do I know? Because your Mr Todd bumped into Ruben Hurst, who warned me. You see, I’ve known for days, like you. And now you know all, and if I’m not arrested for perverting the course of justice, then I shall certainly make no progress whatever in society. Poor Caterina.’

Poor Caterina entered on cue just in time to hear the sentiment. Standing with one hand on the brass door-handle, she looked from one to the other, hoping for an explanation.

Lord Elyot came promptly to his feet. ‘Miss Chester,’ he said.

‘Caterina,’ said Amelie. ‘I was saying what a pity it was that you’d have to come looking for the Haydn. Here it is, my dear. Use the other pianoforte, will you?’ She handed over the bundle of music sheets with a smile.

‘Yes, Aunt. Thank you.’

‘Miss Chester,’ said Lord Elyot, ‘I believe that in a matter of…’ he took a gold fob-watch from his waistcoat pocket, flicked open the cover and glanced at it ‘.about ten minutes, my brother will be calling upon you. He’s a great admirer of Mr Haydn.’

Caterina’s sweet face lit up with a smile. ‘Is he really, my lord? Oh!’ The door closed again, leaving the two opponents to face each other for the next bout. Lord Elyot resumed his seat. ‘Tell me,’ he said, ‘about the duel, if you will. Would it pain you too much?’

Amelie had sensed it coming and had to turn away to hide her face from him. Now she must control the anguish that came every time she thought about it. ‘Oh,’ she said, taking a slow deep breath, ‘I expect you must have heard. People are usually ever ready to give their own version of events.’

‘That’s why I’d like to hear yours, my lady. I heard that Hurst was responsible for your husband’s death. You should have allowed me to have him arrested while there was still a chance, instead of warning him to flee. I take it that’s what your message to him contained?’

Her curls bounced as she whipped round to glare angrily at him. ‘You have spies posted at every corner, do you? You must live a depressingly dull life to go to such lengths. Yes, if you must know, I did warn him to flee, but he’d already gone.’

‘But why warn him? Because you desire his safety? Your amazing generosity is sometimes hard to understand, my lady.’

‘Not from where I stand, it isn’t. Surely you can see that for Hurst to face trial would mean a public airing of events I need to forget, sir. He would say whatever he liked about me to try to lay the blame elsewhere. My name would be blackened, and Caterina’s chances of…well, you know the rest.’

‘Yes, I can imagine. So Hurst quarrelled with your late husband, I take it? Gambling, was it?’

Reluctantly, Amelie recounted the story while roaming from one piece of furniture to the next, touching and tracing the outlines as if to keep herself safely grounded. ‘They played hazard together with a group of friends. It was Josiah’s relaxation. Nothing serious. But Hurst became a nuisance. He craved my attention, and it was noticed. The men laughed it off, but the women didn’t.’

‘And your husband?’

‘Josiah was twenty-three years my senior. I would not have done anything to hurt him…a younger man hanging around his wife…you can imagine what that would have meant to him if he’d believed it. I suggested excluding Hurst, but Josiah saw only that he lost too regularly and drank rather too much. He did everything too much. Rumours began to circulate about his…well…obsession, I suppose one might call it.

‘Then one evening at their club, Hurst lost far more than he could afford to Josiah, and he became abusive. He shouted that I was…no, I cannot say it…’ Her voice broke up, and for some time she stood quaking, clinging to the curve of the large harp that stood in one corner, fingering its gilded scrolls. Eventually, as Lord Elyot waited in silence, she found the strength to continue in a voice husky with emotion. ‘He told Josiah that he was my lover and that he should tend his wife better if he wanted to keep me. It was shocking. So shocking.’

‘Did your husband believe that?’

‘No, my lord, he didn’t. He knew I would never, never have. But the insult was too near the bone, too wounding to both of us, and he challenged Hurst to a duel. Josiah’s brother tried to reconcile them, but Hurst would not apologise and Josiah would not withdraw the challenge. They met in the woodland early the next morning, but Josiah was no shot and Hurst knew it. He was much older, was Josiah, and he died in his brother Stephen’s arms. Caterina’s father.’

‘I’m sorry. And Hurst?’

‘Well, you must know how the law stands on such matters,’ said Amelie, staring out into the garden. ‘A nobleman may be allowed to get away with it as a matter of honour, but not a man like Hurst. He knew he’d be brought to trial and condemned, so he fled to Ireland and I believed he would stay there for good.’ She came at last to the sofa where she sank down with her back to the light, fighting the tears. ‘You can imagine the rest, I’m sure. The inevitable gossip, the jealousy of what some seemed to think were my favoured circumstances. It would have been easier for them to bear if I’d been penniless, I suppose, as a result. They could have forgiven me that. Some found it hard to understand why a wealthy woman of twenty-two could be so distressed by the murder of her forty-five-year-old husband, or why she should be so grateful to his widowed younger brother and his family who, as it happened, was one of the few to offer me real help and support. The others were all too afraid of their wives, I suppose, and their wives were too concerned about the rumours to believe totally in my innocence. One quickly learns about true friendship at such times, my lord. The moral of the story is never to challenge anyone to a duel unless you are prepared to lose more than your honour.’

‘Well, your advice comes too late for me, my lady. But then, I always make a point of winning, you see.’

Glancing at him, she noted once more the impressive length of his muscled leg as he lounged into the chair, the width of his shoulder, the deep chest and strong hands. At ease, he was a darkly brooding god, and she could imagine only too well how proficient he would be at any physical activity. She had seen his dancing, so unlike Josiah whose keen brain was his most active part. He had provided for her well, however, and he was no stranger to compassion, as some men were.

‘Your parents,’ said Lord Elyot. ‘I understand they were lost to you only the year before. Was that as sudden?’

‘A coaching accident in Switzerland. Had they still been alive, I would probably have gone back to live with them immediately. But the Carr estate was entailed to my cousin, and his wife couldn’t wait to claim it as soon as it became vacant. Fortunately, when my husband died, his brother Stephen allowed me to stay in my own home until I bought this one, instead of claiming it for himself and his family as he was entitled to do. He moved in after I left, but I suppose you must know that.’ She shot a resentful glance at him, but he received it with no more than a slow blink. There had been gossip about the mutual support of the brother and sister-in-law which, in many people’s eyes, could not have been platonic.

‘According to my information,’ said Lord Elyot, ‘you were highly regarded by Buxton people.’

‘Really,’ said Amelie, twisting the wedding ring on her finger. ‘What a pity all those charitable people who were glad to accept my husband’s hospitality for so long could not have maintained the same charity for his widow when she most needed it. It comes a little late, wouldn’t you say?’

‘I can offer you my help, my lady, if you will accept it. The situation is certainly grave, but not irredeemable.’

Suddenly fearful of the soothing tone, Amelie leapt to her feet. ‘Oh, come now, my lord. Don’t tell me you came here to help. Why not be truthful and admit that, armed with all you know of my past and present life, you cannot wait to hound me out of here? An upstart northerner with trade connections in Richmond? We’ll soon get rid of her. I can almost hear your parents in chorus, sir. Well, now I’m in trouble with both of them, am I not? Which one will you tell first, or have you already done so?’

‘Calm down,’ he said, rising to his feet. He strolled to the chimneypiece and lay an arm along its edge, resting the sole of his shining Hessian boot along the brass fender. He took some time to study her graceful but guarded bearing, the angry challenging tilt of her head upon the long neck, the dark moist flash of her sun-flecked eyes. ‘I have not told either of them, and Todd knows better than to speak without my permission. But my father is expecting some kind of result and so are the Vestry and, yes, you could certainly be in serious trouble if word got out about your involvement in their affairs. And the scandal wouldn’t do much to help, either.’

‘Not to mention the do-gooding,’ she snapped over her shoulder.

‘That might have done very well for Buxton where you were known, but creeping around at night with a reticule full of bribing-brass is not the way it’s done here,’ he snapped back. ‘Anyone knows that, but your brains appear to be governed by your woman’s instincts, and look where that’s got you!’

‘What choice did I have?’ she cried, furiously. ‘I’ve told you, it would have taken too long. Why, by the time those bumbling old fools had got together, you’d have had more corpses on your hands. Is that the way it’s done round here, my lord? It certainly saves on food, but my way saves lives. Don’t expect me to apologise for that. As for the scandal— well, it will soon be common knowledge now, won’t it? So you had better warn your Haydn-loving brother to have no more to do with my niece. She’ll do better in Buxton, after all.’

‘You’re forgetting something.’

‘What?’

‘That your past is not yet known hereabouts, but what has become common knowledge is what your loud-mouthed little friend Hurst blabbed to the entire posting-office before he left for London yesterday. This morning I’ve received two invitations for myself and my lady. Not to put too fine a point on it, for you. And if you think,’ he continued before her open mouth could let out a squeak, ‘that I’m going to have my future wife’s name linked to a local court case and to my mother’s scalding disapproval of that kind of scandal, you can think again. I’m not!’

‘You said you were never influenced by your parents’ approval.’

‘I’m not. But that doesn’t stop her telling the rest of society what to think. Once she’s done that, Miss Chester’s future will be even less assured than it is now, that’s for certain. Mother has resigned herself to having sons who keep mistresses, but neither she nor my father would welcome a daughter-in-law with a criminal record.’

Amelie shook her head, trying to clear it, wondering what she was supposed to make of this tangle. ‘Then remind me, will you? You think I should go and explain? Is that what the Vestry will expect? An apology? I’ve told you, I won’t apologise.’ She flounced away, slapping at the reticule as she passed it.

He moved just as fast. ‘Will you hold your peace, woman?’ he barked. ‘Saints alive, but it’s time somebody took you in hand before you fly off at another fence you can’t clear. Come back here!’ In two strides, he had cut short her quick march towards the door and, rather than subject her to an undignified tussle, he bent, placed an arm under her knees and swung her up against him before she could escape. Carrying her to the sofa in three more strides, he set her firmly back against the round tasselled pillow and held her by the wrists, sitting to face her so closely that his previously mysterious statement about offering her some help now began to take on a new meaning.

‘No!’ she said, growling and spitting with rage. ‘No…no!’

There was more she would have said, but although she was beginning to guess at his intentions, the ensuing struggle took all her concentration. Then it was too late, and a cry was all she could manage before his mouth silenced her, blotting out all memory of words and protocol. Dominated by the weight of his chest upon hers, his hand in her hair, and his arm around her back, she was held captive by his searching mouth. She felt the change in him from the previous gentle occasion, a new urgency, as if to reinforce the message that someone should take her in hand. All the half-formed sensations that had filtered into her mind like moonbeams since yesterday suddenly faded, unable to compare in any way with the fire that flared through some deep untouched place inside her, seeping an ache into her thighs.

One of her arms was trapped under his, her hand idle upon his warm broad back, her lips teased into a response where she could not remain passive beneath the tormenting invasion. Heady and upset by the emotional wrangling of the last half hour, and confused, her voices of conscience ceased to protest, then wavered and collapsed beneath the expertise of a master, and at last her lips moved and parted, tasting and curious, waiting for more, perilously close to surrender. His kiss deepened and her nostrils filled with the intoxicating and elusive scent of his virility, luring her even deeper into his complete control.

But all the pent-up fears of a lifetime were even greater, surging over her like a giant wave that pushed back the needs of her body, lending strength to her arms. It was neither propriety nor reticence, but raw fear of some unspeakable consequence that held him away at last, tearing her lips from his. ‘Stop…no…stop! I cannot do this,’ she panted. ‘Let me go, my lord. If this is what you wanted from me, you should have given me warning, then I could have told you…to spare yourself…the effort.’

However, if she had expected that he would leave her immediately, full of contrition, she had misunderstood his purpose, for he was not the kind of man to apologise for kissing a woman, as he had said, and his purpose was as resolute as ever. So, although he eased back enough to allow her to recover, he caught her pummelling hands by the wrists and held them close to his chest.

‘Let me go, my lord. You must leave immediately. Please. ‘

‘All right…all right…I’ve ruffled your feathers, my beauty, but I’m not leaving till we have this business sorted out.’

‘To your advantage, of course.’

‘Of course. Well—’ he almost smiled ‘—to both our advantages. You are in a bit of a mess, there’s no getting away from that, is there? And I can offer you a way out of it, if you’ve a mind to listen.’

‘I don’t need to listen. You’ve already shown me what’s in your mind, and I’m astonished you should take me for that kind of woman. I have received some serious offers, sir, but no one has ever taken such outrageous liberties, and I—’

‘Shall I kiss you again?’

‘No!’

‘Then be quiet, or I will. There. Now calm down and listen to what I have to say. And don’t pretend you didn’t enjoy that, just a little, because I know otherwise.’ He watched the colour flush her cheeks again, adding an angry sparkle to her eyes where a single tear hung like a pearl. ‘And talking of outrageous liberties, have you forgotten already how Hurst has set Richmond ears buzzing and how he’ll be doing the same in every gaming-den in town? So who was it first took liberties with the name of Elyot, my lady? Remember?’

‘I told you, it was an emergency. I thought you understood that.’

‘Oh, I do understand. But this whole situation is an emergency, isn’t it? And I’m not inclined to deny that I have an understanding with the lady who accompanied me to the local assembly when to do so would look as if one of us has had second thoughts. And no one in their right mind would believe it was me, would they? Unless, of course, they knew about your illegal deeds of charity and your exceedingly interesting past. Oh, I agree that was not through any fault of yours,’ he went on as she tried to protest, ‘but nevertheless, it’s there, and the only way you can keep it all quiet is by keeping me quiet. Do you understand me?’

Her lovely face, usually so serene, was a mask of anger as every word took her further into a situation that both offended and enticed her, for she had not recovered from the effects of his lovemaking, and her body still trembled and responded to his shocking closeness. ‘You are…a…demon!’ she cried. ‘An unprincipled—’

‘There’s not a lot wrong with my principles.’

‘Let go of me!’

He released her wrists, but the sudden blaze of rage in her eyes gave him all the warning he needed, and he blocked her arm in midair as it swung towards his head, hurting her with its terrible hardness.

The pain infuriated her, and she tried again and again to inflict some kind of damage, astonishing herself by the release of a physical rage she had never known before, blaming everything and everybody in the process, herself in particular, Lord Elyot and his parents, Hurst, the Vestry, and society in general. But for that one crazy moment of weakness after the ball, he would never have known of her vulnerability, and now he had identified her needs far more accurately than she herself had done. Like a swordsman, he had dived straight under her guard, and the only way she could escape was to damage herself in the process.

If the damage had been limited only to her, the dilemma would have been simpler to manage. She would have lived without the approval of society and been content to do so, for society had not shown itself to be worthy of her patronage. But Caterina’s future could not be jeopardised with a clear conscience, for the young woman had everything in her favour except an impeccably aristocratic lineage and the right connections. It would take far more than Amelie could do on her own to launch Caterina into an approving world. She had been foolish to believe otherwise and even more foolish to put everything at risk in order to ease the tender place in her heart that responded too keenly to the needs of others.

There was yet another side to his dubious proposal that cut even deeper into Amelie’s objections, a fear that he had made real to her from their very first meeting concerning his attitude to certain unfortunate women. Where would she stand then, she wondered? In the gutter?

Against his superior strength, her attempts to wound him failed miserably as she was caught and held hard against his chest, panting with anger. ‘No,’ she whispered, hoarsely, ‘you ask too much of me. I’ve told you, I’m not that kind of woman. How could you ever have thought so?’

‘Shh…shh,’ he said, rocking her. ‘Hush, lass. I know you’re not that kind of woman, but since your name is now linked with mine, whether you like it or not, all you have to do is to be seen with me on a regular basis and to agree to our engagement.’ Tenderly, he brushed his thumb along the line of her jaw.

‘Only seen with you?’

‘Er, no. There will be times when I’m sure we shall not be seen, but there will be other times when I shall wish to be accompanied by my future wife to various functions. It makes life less complicated if I can rely on a woman of your calibre to play hostess to my host. All those dreadful mothers and daughters. Ugh!’

Stiffly, she drew away from him and wiped a finger across one eyelid, giving herself time to recover. He waited until she was ready, then he rose and eased her to her feet, handing her a slipper that had fallen off and watching how her dark curls fell untidily at odds with her attempts to pull herself together. In his eyes, the tousled hair and her recovering composure seemed to typify this complicated woman with her conflicting social needs, her passionate yet fearful nature, her astounding stylishness and amazing generosity of spirit that was leading her into untold trouble. Hearing at first hand of her last four years, he could see how lesser women would have become hardened and embittered by the strain far more than she, though her cynicism had already made her distrustful of men, shunning their company. He could also sense the struggle taking place inside her and how, although she had responded to him, she was still on the point of refusing his offer. She would take more persuading than this. He took her by the elbows, turning her to face him.

‘My lord,’ she said, ‘I realise how you are trying to make this suggested arrangement sound equally advantageous to us both, but it isn’t, is it? For instance, did you ever make any provision for your lovers when they reached an interesting condition? Did you send unwanted infants to the Foundling Hospital? Did you pack the mothers off to the workhouse to get on with it alone? They do, after all, get themselves into that awkward situation, don’t they?’

‘Tch! Tch!’ He shook his head at her. ‘My, but you’re a fierce one, my beauty. Like a dog with a favourite bone. What is it that set you on this path, I wonder? Could we not agree to deal with that problem if and when it arises?’

‘That would do well enough for a man, I’m sure. But I know of a better way of dealing with the problem, my lord. From a woman’s point of view.’

‘Which is?’

‘Surely you can guess. This talk of engagements and understandings is merely a cover for something else, isn’t it? To all intents and purposes, I would be your mistress and you would leave it so, if it were not for my resistance to the idea. You see, I am not such a fool that I cannot see what you want from this relationship, but what would you say, I wonder, if we left that part out of the bargain altogether?’

His head tipped slightly, and Amelie found that she was being scrutinised until a ripple of colour stole around her neck like a scarf. ‘That,’ he said, ‘sounds to me almost like a contradiction in terms, my lady.’

‘Yes, I can see that it would. Still, who’s to know?’

‘I would. And you would.’

‘Does that matter?’

She knew what his reply would be, for he had already demonstrated to her how important it was. ‘Lady Chester,’ he said, ‘listen to me a while. Your fears about the intimate side of things are groundless…no…don’t protest. I can see that you have concerns, but you need not. I shall take into account your period of widowhood and, before that, your marriage to an older husband which, I take it, must have been more your parents’ choice than yours. Am I correct?’

‘Yes.’

‘And you had no children?’

She shook her head.

‘Well, then. But I think you may be overlooking some of the benefits to you in this. There is the matter of Miss Chester, isn’t there? Together, you and I can take her into the heart of society and, with the protection of my name, doors will be opened to her. Isn’t that worth something to you?’

‘You know it is, my lord. In fact, my niece’s welfare is my only reason for even considering your proposal which, I should tell you, offends every code of decency I’ve ever been taught.’

‘Coming from one who flouts the law when it suits her purposes, my dear lady, that is a load of moonshine that doesn’t wash with me. If there was ever a way out of the tricky situation you got us both into, this is it. Can you not see that? It may be that people will wonder at it. Well, I have never offered for a woman before, but we are both old enough to make our own decisions, and I am not likely to leave you in an embarrassing situation, my lady. I can promise you that, if you should find yourself so, as a result of our relationship, I shall not abandon you. There, how does that sound?’

‘It sounds like a typical man trying to make light of his responsibilities, my lord, if you must know.’

He drew her slowly towards him until her face was under his. ‘And this evasive idea of yours about being mine in name only sounds to me like a woman doing exactly the same. So now I shall make a decision for both of us, and if you think it’s weighted in my favour, that’s because you were the one to cause the problem in the first place. You have yourself to thank for it.’

‘You are ungallant, and a fiend!’

‘And you cannot afford to refuse my offer, can you?’

Before he could kiss her again, which she knew he was about to do, she lifted his arms away and stepped sideways out of reach. She felt trapped and angry, yet now there was a kind of excitement, an anticipation, a new dimension in her life to take her into the future, beckoning even while warning her of the risks and of the fearfully intimate part of the deal which she would somehow have to delay. He had not been duped by the ‘name only’ idea.

‘This is not going to look good, my lord,’ she said, picking up the sadly abused reticule. ‘A widow of only two years engaging herself so soon. I left Buxton to escape the gossip only to plunge myself into a different sort. I cannot imagine what my brother-in-law is going to say. Or Caterina, for that matter.’

She would have expected him to offer some dismissive reply to that. After all, had she not already been seen in his company, been visited, and had he not made his interest in her quite obvious to Richmond’s prying eyes? Who would be really surprised to learn of their deepening friendship, and who would be upset by the news except those dreadful mothers and daughters he had mentioned? And his parents. But to her annoyance, he simply rested his behind on the scrolled end of the sofa, sprawled out his long legs, folded his arms and waited for the rest of her objections.

Disconcerted, she tried another tack. ‘How long does it usually take you to win a woman’s consent to be your mistress, my lord? Hours, is it? Days…weeks?’

‘Never much longer than that.’

‘So you’ve never had to work too hard at it, then?’

‘I’ve been fortunate, I suppose. I find it best playing it by ear.’

‘Forgive the indelicacy. I need to know, you see, because you are apparently expecting a commitment from me in a matter of minutes, which surely must be some kind of record. I would not call that “playing it by ear", my lord, I would call it molto allegro con brio more like. Wouldn’t you?’

His laughter was so prolonged that it was some moments before he could speak. ‘Lady,’ he said, still gasping a little, ‘you have shown up a problem that had not occurred to me, I have to admit. Blame it on my keenness. If it will make you easier, I will woo you, take time to win you, seduce you. I don’t want to rush my fences, believe me.’

Blinking a little at the change of metaphor, she felt another surge of heat flood into her throat as the thought skipped into her mind that it might not take her as long to submit to him as she was indicating, and that she had already begun the journey, to her shame. ‘I have not been likened to a fence since I don’t know when,’ she murmured, moving away from him.

But his reach was long and she was scooped up against him and held fast while he looked down into her troubled eyes, all signs of his former levity gone. ‘Steady, my beauty,’ he said, quietly. ‘You are an exception. I would have pursued you anyway, with or without the complications, but they give me a hold over you that I will not let go of. I need to be sure of you; you with your prickly defences. I suspect you’ve never been truly wooed before, have you? It’s not only the Hurst ordeal that’s cooled you towards men, is it? It’s fear, too. I can feel it in your kisses. Well, we’ll take it slowly, eh? And you’ll not find me difficult to please, or too demanding.’

His kiss did nothing to convince her of that and, at the back of her mind, Amelie wondered once again how long she would be able to keep him waiting for her full involvement in the art of being a lover.

Breathless and reeling, she held herself away. ‘I cannot approve of this arrangement, my lord, except that it appears to solve my major problems. But I beg one thing of you before I am obliged to accept it. Please do not ever offer me money, for then I shall be no better than a kept woman. A whore, to put it plainly. I value my independence, you see.’

His face revealed nothing of his reaction to that, and Amelie thought that perhaps this time her outspokenness had gone too far. Indeed, she doubted she had ever spoken that word out loud before.

‘I shall not offer you anything, my lady, that you have no need of. Does that reassure you?’ he said.

It was a cleverly crafted, if ambiguous, reply that made her feel ungracious. Instead of warning him, she could have thanked him for helping her out of more than one very damaging predicament which, if it created others of a different kind, would surely be of a more manageable order. But for the life of her the only difference she could see between the blackmailing methods of Ruben Hurst and Lord Elyot was that one man was a vile and treacherous murderer and the other an attractive but heartless rake whose offer had perhaps not insulted her as much as it ought to have done.

As for not offering her what she had no need of, he would probably never appreciate the full significance of that or how it created the greatest of all her fears, which he had thought too remote to be worth discussing. In which case she must ensure that his promise of a slow seduction was performed ralentando.

‘Yes,’ she said, ‘that does reassure me. Thank you. Now, we must not trespass upon your brother’s patience any longer. I cannot hear any sounds of Haydn. Do you think.?’

‘That’s probably because they’re both out there,’ he said. Looking over the top of her head towards the garden, he had caught sight of Miss Chester leading his brother towards the summer house in the far corner of a lawn. ‘Shall we follow?’

The french windows opened on to a large verandah with steps leading down to pathways, plots and lawns. Further along the verandah another pair of french windows were open, too. ‘My workroom,’ she said, seeing him look, ‘where I am presently trying to incorporate a blackcurrant stain into a painting of a toadstool.’ She took the arm he offered, thinking it a particularly comforting gesture after what had just transpired. ‘What of your father?’ she said. ‘He will be expecting some kind of result from your investigations, surely?’

‘As long as the matter is cleared up, he will accept my findings. There will be no proceedings.’

‘Thank you. Will he accept your choice of mistress…er…wife?’

The arm clasped hers tightly to his side as they reached the bottom of the steps. ‘What a beautiful garden,’ he said. ‘Your design, of course?’

This was all very well, Amelie thought, walking by his side, but what is to happen when he wearies of the pretence or finds someone to love, someone he really wants to marry? Would she then be obliged to quietly fade away into a demimonde like Mrs Fitz Herbert, the Prince of Wales’s ‘wife'? Would the two of them have any kind of future together, her with her unacceptable northern industrial connections and him with his noble mistresses, while there in the background was the possibility of a pregnancy, which he preferred to believe would not happen after a childless two-year marriage. Not so, my lord. Not so. You do not know the truth of it.

‘My design,’ she said. ‘But still immature, as you see.’