Читать книгу The Complete Regency Surrender Collection - Энни Берроуз, Louise Allen - Страница 141

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Matthew searched the room for his hostess. Ah...there! She could not help but stand out, with her burnished curls piled high, topping every other woman in the room by half a head. He strode across the room to where Eleanor stood with Lord Vernon Beauchamp and his sister, Lady Cecily. Her awareness of his approach was exposed by the sudden flush of her cheeks, despite her determined attempt to keep her attention on her companions.

Beauchamp...rake and darling of the ton. Resentment scraped at Matthew’s insides. It mattered not that Stephen had assured him none of the gentlemen watching over Eleanor was hanging out for a wife...and why Stephen had even thought it necessary to tell him such an irrelevant fact, he did not know...! Grrr! He’d lost his train of thought. All he knew was the sight of Eleanor anywhere near any of these so-called gentlemen burned in his gut.

And the memory of her interference scoured his insides even more. How dare she? What business of hers was it if he and his father were estranged? If he had any doubts over not courting her, her interference had consolidated his decision. She always thought she knew best. She was a stubborn, managing tyrant.

And an utter peach.

His anger subsided—a little—as she shot him a wary glance through her thick lashes. A tremulous smile hovered for an instant on those full lips before she settled her focus back on Beauchamp.

As the conversation ebbed and flowed he thought back to the interview with his father. It had been awkward. Both men—he recognised from a distance—had been wary of offering too much, in case the other rejected that degree of conciliation. Thank God for Stephen and his patience and diplomacy in brokering their deal. For that is what it had reminded Matthew of. A business deal. With sky-high personal stakes. They had left the parlour with a new understanding and, in Matthew, the joy of knowing he would shortly be reconciled with the rest of the family. Claverley would be furious. That made the reward even sweeter.

Gradually, Eleanor’s conversation with the Beauchamps drowned out his introspection.

‘I am arranging a day out to Richmond next week,’ Lady Cecily was saying. ‘I do hope you will join us, Eleanor, with your aunt. I will send you an invitation.’

‘Thank you, Cecily. I should be delighted.’

‘And you, Mr Damerel? Might I persuade you to join our number?’

‘If I am still in town, I should be delighted, my lady.’

‘Are you planning to leave London?’ Was that a hint of panic in Eleanor’s question?

He summoned up every last vestige of his resolve. ‘I am. As soon as you are in no further danger, my lady, I plan to visit my family.’

‘Then you and your father—’

‘Have reached an understanding.’ He should thank her for her help, but his anger at her unasked-for interference was too raw. It was an uncomfortable clash of feelings and it was simpler not to give vent to either. Maybe when he had calmed down a bit... ‘I am very much looking forward to seeing my mother and sisters again.’

Her eyes glittered. ‘There is no need to remain in London on my behalf,’ she said. ‘Hugo is here and I am sure the other gentlemen who have been so kind in watching over me will continue to do so for as long as necessary. Is that not so, my lord?’

‘Indeed,’ Vernon said, in his rich, cultured voice. ‘We are at your service for as long as you need us.’

‘So, there is nothing to prevent you going home tomorrow, if you so wish,’ Eleanor said, her tone indifferent although the faint crease between her brows told its own tale.

He could not blame her...he was not the only one with pride.

‘I will finish what I started,’ he said. ‘I shall call upon you tomorrow, at two o’clock, if that is convenient, to discuss your protection over the next few days. Alastair, as I understand it, has a long-standing commitment tomorrow so, if you need to go out, I shall be available to escort you in the afternoon.’

Eleanor nodded. ‘Very well. I shall see you at two tomorrow. Now, if you will please excuse me, I have guests to attend to.’

* * *

A short time later, a heavy hand landed on his shoulder.

‘Well, my boy—’ his father’s voice boomed in his ear ‘—I am pleased we have buried our differences.’ He chuckled. ‘We are too alike, that is the truth. Proud. Your mother would say stubborn, too, but I will not admit to that.’

‘I am pleased to put the past behind us too, Father,’ Matthew said. ‘Although I must tell you again that I shall not give up my business interests. Quite apart from that pride you mentioned, I actually enjoy what I do. I could never live an idle life.’

‘You won’t be idle, my son, not with that estate your grandfather left you.’

His father had earlier told Matthew that his mother’s father had bequeathed an estate in Leicestershire to Matthew, subject to his return to England of his own free will.

‘It may not enjoy a vast acreage, but your grandfather was able to live very comfortably off the rents,’ Lord Rushock continued. ‘It’s prime hunting country, you know.’

‘Despite that, I will continue in trade with my business partner. That was our plan in returning to England.’

‘Plans can change.’ His father nudged him and nodded in Eleanor’s direction, where she was bidding farewell to some of her guests. ‘It looks like you’re in a fair way to fixing your interest already, you sly young pup—way ahead of the other bucks hanging out for a rich wife. She’d be a good match for you, worth a tidy fortune. She’d not be to everyone’s taste, mind, too tall and robust for most, but a pretty enough face, I’ll grant you. And that fortune will be more than enough to compensate. It’s good to see the years away have given you some good sound common sense.’

Fuming, Matthew clenched his fists. Even his own father thought he would court Eleanor purely for her wealth. No longer thought a cheat, but now labelled as a fortune hunter.

* * *

The next day a frustrated Eleanor gazed at the clock in the drawing room, watching the minute hand creep past the six and tick its way up towards the hour again. It was already past half past two.

Where is he?

Hugo was out and Eleanor had declined to accompany Aunt Lucy and Sir Horace on their visit to friends because Matthew was due to call.

The clock struck three; she paced the floor.

Where is he? It would serve him right if I wasn’t here when he arrives.

But still she waited, increasingly annoyed—not only at Matthew for his tardiness, but also at herself for staying meekly at home, awaiting his arrival.

She looked at the clock for the umpteenth time. Five past three. She wandered to the window and craned her neck to peer up and down the street below. A discreet cough drew her attention and she turned to see Pacey at the door.

‘A message has been delivered for you, my lady.’ He held out a folded and sealed sheet of paper.

‘Thank you, Pacey.’

She did not recognise the writing so it was not from Matthew. She broke the wax seal and smoothed the single page, which was covered in a cramped and hurried script.

My dearest Cousin Eleanor

Our recent conversation about my Troubles gave me such comfort and I would beseech you to come to my Aid. I am in such turmoil about your Cousin James. You are the only person I can turn to in my Distress and I must plead with you to come to me without Delay whilst he is from home.

I shall be at Home all afternoon and I hope and pray that you will attend me here without Delay, for I shall be unable to answer to the Consequences if you do not come.

Please do not Fail me. It must be Today, before your Cousin returns.

Your Desperate Cousin

Ruth

Eleanor frowned as she finished the letter, then re-read it carefully, wondering what had caused Ruth to write such a hasty and muddled missive. The ‘troubles’ she wrote of suggested her agitation at her lack of a family. But her insistence that Eleanor attend her before James came home... Could Ruth have discovered something about the attacks?

Eleanor considered her options, eager to hear what Ruth had to tell her. If she waited for Aunt Lucy—out shopping, with Sir Horace as her escort—to return, she would surely insist upon accompanying Eleanor to visit Ruth. Whilst that might be the sensible thing to do, would her aunt’s presence prevent Ruth from being completely honest?

Also, the longer she delayed her visit, the more likely it was that James would return whilst she was there. Therefore, the sooner she went to Ruth, the better.

She could send word to one of her ‘guardians’, but the same objections to Aunt Lucy’s presence applied equally to them. Ruth would be unlikely to speak openly in the presence of anyone else, particularly a man.

Which left Eleanor to rely upon her own resources, much as she had done for the past three years.

She would go in the carriage, right to the front door. She had her footmen. She would take her pistol. With James away from home, what possible danger could there be? Her mind conjured up the image of the stranger she had seen watching her. She had not seen him since that time outside the house. And Ruth would be there, after all.

She made up her mind. She would go and, if she sensed the slightest threat when the door was opened to her, she would simply refuse to go inside. She rang the bell.

‘Pacey, I am going out in fifteen minutes. Can you send for the carriage and ask Lizzie to attend me upstairs, please? And tell three of the footmen—whoever you can spare most easily—they are to accompany me.’

‘May I know where to, my lady?’

‘To call upon Mrs Weare,’ she replied. ‘When Lady Rothley returns, please tell her where I have gone and what time. And tell her not to worry, for I have protection with me.’

Pacey hesitated. ‘My lady, should you not wait until—?’

‘Now, Pacey.’ The butler bowed and withdrew.

Eleanor went to her bedchamber to change into her sprigged-muslin walking dress and to load her pistol. If James was the culprit, and he returned home unexpectedly, she would be ready for him. Lizzie helped her into her pomona-green spencer and bonnet, and she carefully placed the pistol into her matching reticule, ignoring Lizzie’s gasp of horror.

‘Come, Lizzie, fetch your coat, please. I wish you to attend me on my visit to my cousin’s house.’

‘Very well, milady.’ Lizzie was stiff with disapproval.

As they trod down the stairs to join William, Timothy and Peter, who were awaiting them in the hallway, Eleanor pushed her qualms aside.

Instead, she chose to focus on her satisfaction that the decision of whether or not to continue waiting for Matthew had been taken from her hands.