Читать книгу Dear Deceiver - Mary Nichols, Mary Nichols - Страница 5

‘I really think this hotel is too dear for us,’ Emma said, looking round the crowded dining-room at the splendidly dressed patrons. ‘Everyone seems so top of the trees.’

The men were clad in bright coloured coats and even brighter waistcoats. Their starched cravats sat under collar points which reached their cheeks and their legs were encased in tight-fitting pantaloons. The younger ladies were dressed in gowns of flimsy silk or net over satin which revealed more than they covered, having high waists with low necklines, while the more matronly were in heavier brocades and velvets with padded skirts from which their ankles peeped in brightly coloured stockings.

It was not that she was over-awed or even particularly envious; hadn’t she attended Society functions at the British Consulate in Calcutta with her father? And held her own. No, it was simply that, in their straitened circumstances, she felt out of place. Her own gown was one of Mrs Goodwright’s, a deep mauve sarcenet which the good lady had said might do in lieu of mourning, and though it had been made to fit Emma’s slim waist and was trimmed with white lace, the colour did nothing for her complexion.

‘Just look at the gems round that lady’s throat,’ Emma said, nodding towards a neighbouring table. ‘They must be worth a fortune. Why, she even has them in her hair. And her gown must have cost a thousand rupees.’

‘You know they don’t have rupees in England,’ Teddy said, making inroads into the lamb cutlets and vegetables with which his plate was piled. Ladies’ fashions did not interest him, though he had thrown an admiring glance at one of the patrons, who had just entered. His double-breasted blue tailcoat fitted across his broad shoulders as if he had been poured into it. His waistcoat was a shining creation of blue and yellow stripes and his white muslin cravat was starched and tied with such precision that Teddy could only stare in admiration.

The man seemed thoroughly at ease and very pleased with himself, chatting animatedly to his companion, a big man with red-gold curls, wearing buckskin breeches and a cord coat.

‘Of course I know,’ Emma said. ‘But it is difficult to think of guineas and half-crowns; it makes my head spin trying to convert it. And you are not above making mistakes. I heard you asking for the dhobi-wallah when we were shown to our rooms.’

‘I wanted my shirt washed.’

‘Now, of course, we are a laughing stock. I wish we had not come here.’

‘Don’t be a ninny, Em, no one is laughing.’ A loud guffaw from the gentleman in the buckskin breeches gave the lie to that statement, though he was not laughing at them but at something his companion had said. ‘And what other could we do? I asked the Captain to recommend a good hotel and he said we could not go wrong with Grillons.’

‘He did not know how impecunious we are,’ she said. ‘Though I think he might have guessed, considering we were obliged to travel on a cargo ship with no passenger accommodation. It is too late to go anywhere else tonight, but tomorrow we must find more modest lodgings. And then we must both search for work, if you are still set against going to Mountforest Hall.’

‘You know I am,’ Teddy said grimly. ‘I would rather starve. But we’ll not do that, for I intend to go to Leadenhall Street and ask for work at Company headquarters. I can be a Writer just as well here as in Calcutta.’ He stopped suddenly and leaned forward. ‘Don’t turn round, but there is a dandy at the next table who is looking at you as if he knows you.’

‘Don’t be foolish, Teddy, how can anyone know us here?’ She pretended to drop her napkin and, in bending to retrieve it, took a surreptitious look behind her. Her eyes met the laughing eyes of the young man who had boarded the Silken Maid earlier in the day. His hand reached Emma’s napkin before hers. He smiled and handed it to her. ‘Yours, I believe, Miss Woodhill.’

She sat up, knowing her cheeks were burning. ‘Thank you, sir, but how did you know my name?’

‘Why, from Captain Greenaway, of course. We do not usually take on passengers and I asked him who you were.’

‘We? Oh, you are the owner of the Silken Maid?’

‘Let us say I have an interest. I trust your voyage was a comfortable one?’

She laughed, revealing even white teeth and a dimple in her cheek which captivated him. ‘Hardly that. The weather was bad and the sea very rough. The porthole in the cabin did not fit properly and everything became soaked, which is why I had nothing but this old gown to wear this evening.’

‘It is very charming,’ he said, looking her up and down. Why on earth had she and her brother chosen Grillons? It was way above their touch. He was filled with admiration for her courage; finding herself in a tight corner, she had chosen to attack. ‘But I am sorry about the porthole. It will, of course, be repaired before the ship sails again.’

‘Which is not much help to me.’ Why was she being so belligerent? He had been nothing but pleasant and it sounded as if she were determined to quarrel with him. It was not a courteous way to behave towards a stranger. And yet he did not seem like a stranger; once again she felt as if she had always known him.

‘No, but please accept my apologies and allow me to recompense you for the inconvenience.’

‘That is not in the least necessary. The laundry maid…’ She caught sight of Teddy laughing and frowned at him. ‘Everything is being seen to and will be put to rights by tomorrow. But I thank you for the offer.’ She picked up her reticule which lay on the table at her side and stood up. If she stayed any longer she could not trust herself not to ask where she had met him before and that would be embarrassing for everyone. ‘If you will excuse me, I will retire. It has been a tiring day.’

‘Of course.’ He rose and bowed to her. ‘Are you staying in London?’

‘For the moment.’

‘Then I wish you a pleasant stay.’

‘Thank you. Come along, Teddy.’ With that she swept from the room followed by her bemused brother.

‘What was all that about?’ he demanded as they made their way up the stairs to their room.

‘Nothing.’

‘It didn’t look like nothing to me. Why, you were as red as a turkey cock…’

‘I was not.’

‘Yes, you were.’

‘Then it was because the room was so hot, and perhaps I had drunk too much of the wine.’

‘It couldn’t be because you took a shine to him, could it?’

‘No, of course not. I have hardly spoken half a dozen words to the gentleman. Why, I don’t even know his name.’

‘Do you want to know it? I will run back and find out if you like.’

‘You will do no such thing! Go to bed, we have a great deal to do tomorrow.’

Teddy sighed. ‘Pity. I wouldn’t have minded making his acquaintance. He’s a real Corinthian, don’t you think?’

‘No, I don’t. It’s obvious he is a nabob. I think he has shares in the Silken Maid’s cargo.’

‘So what? Are you become so high in the instep, you can look down on honest trading? He seems to have done well from it, judging by his dress.’

‘And if he has, what concern can it possibly be of ours?’ She paused outside the door of her room. ‘Goodnight, Teddy.’

It took her a long time to go to sleep that night. Her head was filled with the newness of everything, the sights, the smells, the sounds of a strange country. And yet it was the country her father had always called home. She must make it her home. But, oh, how difficult it was going to be! She missed Papa dreadfully. If he had been alive and bringing her to England on a visit, it would have been a wonderful adventure, but as it was she felt lost and, in spite of Teddy who was very dear to her, very lonely.

It was all very well for Mrs Goodwright to give her a book on etiquette, but it didn’t go nearly far enough. For instance, in England was it permissible for a lady to speak to a strange man in a public dining-room, if he did one a service? Ought she simply to have thanked him and turned away? But that would have been rude, especially after he had taken the trouble to find out her name and ask about the voyage.

Six months ago, she would not have troubled herself about it; she would have done what came naturally to her, secure in the knowledge of her place in society. She would not have given the rights and wrongs of it a thought, much less spent sleepless hours worrying about it.

Had she really blushed? Oh, how mortifying! Whatever had he thought of her? It was just as well they were moving on tomorrow. She didn’t want another uncomfortable encounter with that gentleman.

Two mornings later Emma and Teddy set out from two tiny rooms on the top floor of a lodging house on the north side of Oxford Street to look for work. A slight breeze had blown away the misty rain and the sun was shining, a day for optimism, they decided. It was an optimism which was soon deflated. Emma had a notion that she could look after young children or even teach, but, according to the agency to whom she applied, no one wanted their children taught by someone whose sole experience was giving Indian children the rudiments of English. She was very conscious of her outmodish brown bombazine gown and tanned complexion; English ladies seemed to be uncommonly pale.

If she had not been so concerned about their dwindling resources, she would have enjoyed exploring the city. It was so different from Calcutta and yet there were similarities. Many of the fine buildings had their counterparts in Calcutta, which had been dubbed ‘the city of palaces’, but the people who thronged the streets and rode in a bewildering array of carriages, were, for the most part, white.

The markets, like markets the world over, were colourful and noisy but the produce they sold was different: hot peas, meat pies, herrings, cabbages and bootlaces instead of chuppattis, samosas, melons, copper ornaments and saris. And though there were English churches in Calcutta, there did not seem to be any mosques and temples in London, shining pink and gold in the sun, no ruins, no fort. St Paul’s was impressive and one day she might go inside, but at that moment she was too anxious to reach her next interview. Having given up the idea of teaching, she had decided to try for a position as a lady’s maid.

The encounter lasted less than five minutes, which was the time it took to realise she would be nothing but a slave to a cantankerous old lady twenty-four hours a day, and for a pittance. Judging by the tiny fire in the grate and the chill in the house which was mirrored in the lady’s demeanour, there would be no warmth there. It was the same in many of the places to which she was sent and on the few occasions when she liked what she saw, she was turned down on the grounds of her inexperience. She returned home in the evening, hoping that Teddy had had better luck.

He had not. ‘I didn’t get any further than speaking to a supervisor,’ he said, disgustedly, as they sat over a frugal meal. ‘All he said was, “Go to Haileybury and finish your schooling, then we might be able to use you.” He said Haileybury College was like Fort William in Calcutta, intended to produce Indian administrators.’

‘I wish you could,’ Emma said. ‘But I’m afraid it’s out of the question.’

‘I know. I thought of journalism, but when I tried a newspaper office, they laughed at me, said I knew nothing, but I could be the tea-wallah, if I liked. I am not that desperate, Em.’

‘No, of course not.’

‘If I cannot work for The Company, then I would wish to do something with some excitement in it. Do you know there are hundreds of stage coaches in London? They go all over the country every day at a bruising speed, twenty miles an hour some of them. And the coachmen are fine fellows. I wouldn’t mind being a coachman or a guard. The guard has a blunderbuss to frighten off highwaymen. Come to think of it, it might be exciting to be a highwayman. Your jewels or your life, and all that.’

Emma laughed. ‘Oh, Teddy, you are a goose, but what would I do without you?’

‘I can’t stay tied to your apron strings forever, Em,’ he said, suddenly serious. ‘If you are worrying what will happen to me if you are offered a position, please don’t. Whether you will have it or not, I am a man now and must find my own way.’

‘I haven’t been offered anything so it doesn’t signify.’

‘You had no luck either?’

‘No.’

‘You’ll have to find a husband, like I said before.’

‘And just how am I to do that?’

‘Cultivate any eligible you meet, instead of rebuffing him, as you always seem to do. There was that gentleman last night—he was interested, I could tell. All you did was complain about the voyage and tell him to mind his own business…’

‘I did not!’

‘As good as. If you had accepted his offer of compensation, who knows where it might have led…?’

‘Teddy, you sometimes talk the most dreadful nonsense. Of course he wasn’t interested in me. He’s probably married with half a dozen children. Anyway, I have no intention of marrying for money…’

‘Why not? I am persuaded that is how most marriages begin.’

‘How can you say that, when you know how much Mama and Papa loved each other?’

‘They were an exception.’

‘Then I shall be another.’ She laughed suddenly. ‘And I could hardly be married within a week and that is how long our funds are likely to last.’ She paused, serious again. ‘I will try again tomorrow. I’ll go to a domestic agency…’

’emma, you can’t be a housemaid, it is as bad as me being a tea-wallah.’

‘I think this business of having an uncle who is a viscount has gone to your head, brother dear. We cannot afford pride.’ Which was only too true, though she lamented it as much as Teddy did.

The next day she tried a new agency and her luck changed, though she did wonder if it was because she furnished them with a glowing reference from Miss Emma Mountforest who had employed her as a companion while residing in India. ‘Society among the English community in India is very little different from that in England,’ she told the proprietor, tongue in cheek. ‘I shall soon adapt.’ Emma did not like the deception, but she was beginning to realise she would get nowhere telling the truth. She was given an introduction to take to the Marquis of Cavenham, who required a companion for his sister, Miss Lucilla Besthorpe.

She returned home to leave a note for Teddy, telling him where she was, before following the directions she had been given to the Marquis’s house in Bedford Row. It was a tall mansion, identical to those on either side of it, with rows of sash windows and a heavy oak door with a large brass knocker and flambeaux either side. She took a deep breath and knocked, prepared to lie, if necessary, to obtain the post.

The maid who answered the door took the agency’s letter from her and left her waiting in an anteroom for several minutes, which seemed like an hour to Emma, who found that her hands were shaking with nerves. She gave herself a good scolding and managed to calm herself by the time the girl returned.

‘Come this way, please.’

She led the way up a curving staircase, covered with Turkey carpet, to a large sunny room on the first floor, where she left her. Emma, looking about her at the upholstered sofas with their faded gilt scrolling, the spindly chairs and satinwood sofa table, the secretaire in the corner, the gilt framed pictures which could have done with cleaning, the spotted mirror and ormolu clock on the mantel, the striped taffeta curtains and worn carpet, came to the conclusion that the room had once seen better days.

She had thought there was no one there, but a slight movement by the window caught her eye and a young lady emerged, from behind the curtains. She was about seventeen, Emma judged, dressed very simply in a morning dress of spotted muslin, with a deep frill at the hem and lace about the neck. Her hair, which was fair, was worn tied back with a blue velvet ribbon with no attempt at fashionable arrangement. And yet she was lovely, mainly due to a cheerful countenance and sparkling blue eyes.

‘I thought I would take a look at you before you saw me,’ she said, coming forward and seating herself on one of the sofas.

‘Oh, and what conclusion have you come to?’ Emma asked, deducing that this was the Marquis’s sister and would be her charge if she were to be appointed.

‘You are not what you seem.’

Emma gasped. Surely she had not been seen through by a schoolmiss? ‘Whatever do you mean?’

‘At first I thought you rather dull, a little brown sparrow, but then I saw the way you looked about you, as if summing us up, and I realised that there would be no deceiving you.’

‘Does anyone need to deceive me?’ Emma asked, conscious of the irony of that remark.

‘No, but you have already deduced that we are not as plump in the pocket as we would like. Dominic wants to set the place to rights, but it all takes time and he has not been the Marquis for long enough to bring us round…’

‘Should you be telling me this, Miss Besthorpe? It is a private matter, surely?’

‘But if you become one of the household, you must know what you are falling into.’

‘Your brother, the Marquis…?’

‘Oh, Dominic is as open and honest as the day is long. Everyone knows our circumstances, but matters are improving. Dominic has just made a huge profit on some investment or other and so I am to have a Season, after all. You do not know how relieved I am, for otherwise I would have been packed off to Aunt Agatha in Yorkshire, and that is not to be borne. She is old and so strict, I might as well be in purdah. Even Dominic does not wish that on me.’

‘Miss Besthorpe, I really do not think you should be divulging that.’

‘Oh, do call me Lucy, everyone does. If I am to have my come-out this year, I need a maid who will also be a companion and chaperon. I think we should suit very well, don’t you?’

Emma felt as though she were being swept along on a tide, but she liked Lucy, who had a refreshing candour and was not in the least conceited. ‘Yes, but I have yet to meet the Marquis and he may not agree.’

‘Oh, Dominic will like you, I know. And besides, I can bring him round my little finger, if I have a mind to. I have already turned down three applicants—three old dragons breathing fire.’

Emma found herself laughing and it was at that point Dominic entered the room.

He stood watching them from the doorway, realising that when Miss Woodhill laughed, her whole face lit up and she came vibrantly alive. Even in her dowdy brown clothes there was something about her that made her stand out; she had a natural grace, a way of carrying herself, a quiet dignity which, to his way of thinking, reflected good breeding, and yet she seemed totally unaware of it. She had, he supposed, found out who he was and decided to take advantage of his offer of compensation, after all. He was both disappointed that she might have a mercenary streak and delighted to see her again. He took a further step into the room and Lucy, seeing him, ran to take his arm and drag him forward.

‘Dominic, this is…’

He smiled. ‘Miss Woodhill, I know.’ He bowed to Emma. ‘Your servant, ma’am.’

‘You know?’ Lucy looked from him to Emma, who seemed to have been struck dumb. Her face was flushed and her mouth partly open as if she had been frozen in the middle of a laugh. ‘You did not tell me you knew my brother.’

Emma was thunderstruck. Her confused thoughts ranged from how handsome the Marquis was in his blue superfine coat, buff pantaloons and polished hessians, to wondering why fate had decreed they should meet again and so soon, too. Then she remembered what Teddy had said the evening before about the gentleman being interested in her and she felt the colour flood her cheeks. Would he think that she had engineered the meeting? Oh, how dreadful if he did!

‘I didn’t. I don’t.’ She managed to speak at last. ‘I had no idea…’

‘Miss Woodhill and I encountered each other yesterday,’ Dominic said, realising that the young lady was as surprised as he was and had not come to dun him. ‘Twice.’

‘Twice! Then you must tell me all about it.’

‘There is nothing to tell,’ Emma said, pulling herself together. ‘His lordship came on board the ship on which I travelled from India and we met a second time when my brother and I were dining at the hotel. I had no idea he would be there. Nor did I know who he was until now.’ She hoped he was convinced.

‘Oh, but that is good, don’t you see? We are connected already.’ Lucy turned to her brother. ‘Dominic, Miss Woodhill is applying for the post of companion. Do say you will agree.’

‘Miss Woodhill is a little young, Lucy dear,’ he murmured. ‘I am surprised the agency sent her. I asked for a mature lady, preferably one with a little experience of guiding young ladies.’

‘Dragons!’ said Lucy scornfully. ‘They would be as bad as Aunt Agatha. I don’t want to be hemmed in by dos and don’ts and lectures on etiquette and what is becoming to a young lady. And you know after I turned the last one away, they said they would not send any more.’

He smiled. ‘No, they said Miss Besthorpe was obviously spoiled and they would not wish anyone of sensibility on her. Which is not at all the same thing.’ He turned to Emma. ‘I beg your pardon, Miss Woodhill, I did not mean to imply…’

She had recovered sufficiently to smile. ‘That I was lacking in sensibility?’

‘Not at all. I was simply pointing out that my sister can be impossibly difficult to please.’

‘That’s not fair!’ Lucy cried. ‘If I had someone I liked I would be as biddable as you please. And I like Miss Woodhill.’

Emma smiled. ‘Thank you, Miss Besthorpe, but it is of little consequence what the agency thinks of my suitability. The decision is his lordship’s.’

’Touché!’ He laughed in delight. Here was no terrified underling, but a girl of spirit and he liked that. Not that Society would consider her as a suitable duenna for his sister. Lucy needed a strong hand. But their present situation was highly irregular, as everyone had been pointing out, ever since their parents had died within a few weeks of each other just over a year before; he was a bachelor and it was highly improper for Lucy to continue to live with him, either in town or at their country estate, though it wasn’t so important at Cavenham House.

Aunt Agatha had offered to take her, but Lucy had begged not to go and, as usual, Lucy had got her own way. She had not been boasting when she said she could wind him about her little finger.

When their fortunes began to take a turn for the better, he had promised her a Season and for that, they must observe the rules of Society, which meant Lucy must have a companion and chaperon, someone who would observe the proprieties and guide her in the correct behaviour, preferably someone of mature years. Miss Woodhill hardly fitted that description.

He paced the room, while the two girls watched him in silence. He ought to turn her away, letting her down as gently as possible, but it was true that Lucy had been very difficult to please and the agency was losing patience. There was the added complication that, because of Princess Charlotte’s wedding, everybody who was anybody would be in London this year, even those who had long ago retired to the country, and good servants would be hard to find.

He stopped pacing and turned towards Emma. ‘Please sit down, Miss Woodhill, and allow me continue the interview.’ He indicated one of the sofas and, as soon as she had taken her seat, sat opposite her, leaving Lucy to prowl about the room.

‘Now,’ he said, ignoring his sister. ‘Tell me all about yourself. Captain Greenaway told me you have lately become bereaved and I offer my condolences…’

‘Thank you, my lord. My father was employed as a Civil Servant.’ She had decided not to reveal that her father had been a soldier; it was too easy to verify the names of serving officers. ‘He died about seven months ago.’

‘I am sorry. Tell me why you decided to come to England.’

She hesitated only momentarily. ‘It is not easy for a lady to live alone in India, and I had my brother to think of. We thought it would be easier to find employment here. I had no idea it would be so difficult. There is so much prejudice…’

One well-defined brow lifted. ‘Prejudice or caution, Miss Woodhill?’

‘Both. Although my parents were English, I was born in India and lived all my life there until now; prospective employers seem to think it means I have lived like a savage. I can assure you, my lord, that British Society in Calcutta is every bit as civilised as that in London.’ It was no more than the truth, but she knew she was on shaky ground. It was not that she thought he was prejudiced but if he were to check on her story, he would discover that no one in Calcutta had heard of Miss Woodhill.

She stood up suddenly, unable to continue. ‘I am sorry to have taken your time, my lord.’

‘Sit down, Miss Woodhill. I have not finished.’

His voice was so authoritarian, she almost fell back into her seat.

‘Dominic, don’t bully,’ Lucy said. ‘You frighten Miss Woodhill.’

He smiled at Emma. ‘Do I frighten you?’

‘Not at all, my lord.’ Which was true. It was shame, not fright, which had made her want to run away.

‘Then let us continue. You are, how old?’

She stifled the retort that it was ungentlemanly to enquire a lady’s age; he had every right to ask and, as far as he was concerned, she was no lady. ‘Twenty-two.’

‘Twenty-two is very young for a chaperon, Miss Woodhill. Why, you are not above an age for needing one yourself.’

‘Oh, come, my lord, you flatter me. I am old enough to be independent and to have had some experience.’

‘And what form has that taken?’

This business of deception was more difficult than she had imagined, especially when her interrogator looked at her with such warm friendliness. She had to force herself to meet his gaze. ‘I was lady’s maid and companion to Miss Emma Mountforest.’

‘But that’s…’ Lucy began but Dominic held up his hand to silence her.

‘If you persist in interrupting, Lucy, I shall send you away.’ He turned back to Emma. ‘You have the same Christian name as Miss Mountforest.’

‘Yes, I was named for her.’ She and Teddy had decided not to change their given names because they might be uneasy with new ones and forget to answer to them. She opened her reticule and produced the reference she had written herself. ‘This is from Miss Mountforest.’

He took it but did not read it immediately, preferring to trust his own judgement about people, but the name of Miss Woodhill’s previous employer had astonished him. ‘Why did you leave her employ?’

Emma faltered. She had not realised how one untruth led to another and was beginning to wonder where it would end. It would be almost a relief if she were turned away, but then what else could she do? ‘Miss Mountforest had lately lost her own father and was going to live with friends. I don’t know where, but she said she would no longer be able to employ a personal maid.’

‘I see. And so you came to England to seek your fortune.’ He smiled suddenly and his whole face was lit with warmth. ‘You know, it is usually the other way about. People travel from this country to India to make their fortunes.’ He paused, watching her face. Why did he have the impression she was hiding something? It made him curious. ‘But perhaps not ladies.’

‘No, but I am hardly a lady. I am used to making my own decisions and looking after myself.’ She brushed a brown, ringless hand over her skirt and noticed it was shaking. His questions were becoming too probing, too personal, and more and more difficult to answer. She would do better to steer him towards more practical matters. She clasped her hands together in her lap and forced herself to look at him. ‘I should, of course, like to know exactly what my duties would be and the hours I should be expected to work. And the remuneration, of course.’

‘Naturally. Your duties would simply be to be a companion to Lucy, to help her dress, advise her on such things as etiquette, act as her chaperon. It follows that the hours you work will vary from day to day, but rest assured they would not be onerous. Do you think you could manage that? My sister is very self-willed, you know.’

Emma smiled. ‘Miss Besthorpe seems to me to be a delightful young lady and no more self-willed than any other of her age and I envisage no difficulty. I am sure she knows very well how to go on. Age is no criteria for wisdom.’

Lucy clapped her hands with delight. ‘There! I knew Miss Woodhill would be a match for you, brother. I don’t know why you are quizzing her so hard, when I already know all I need to know.’

‘Oh, do not be hard on him,’ Emma told her. ‘He has only your welfare at heart and he would be a poor guardian if he did not make every endeavour for your safety and comfort.’

‘Thank you, Miss Woodhill,’ Dominic said solemnly, bowing towards her. But his seriousness was counterbalanced by the twinkle of humour in his brown eyes, to which she responded with a smile which almost overwhelmed him. He found himself wanting to help her. How else could he do it but give her employment?

His doubts about her suitability gave way to a conviction that she would be an asset to any household, not as a servant, but as wife and mother. The thought startled him, for was he not engaged to be married? He forced himself back to the matter in hand and tried to look stern. ‘I presume you are unmarried with no emotional entanglements? I ask because you will be required to live in and devote yourself to my sister.’

‘I understand that, my lord. The man I was to marry died of fever four years ago. There has been no one since then, but, as you know, I do have a brother.’

‘I see. He is not yet suited?’

‘Oh, Dominic, do find something for Miss Woodhill’s brother,’ Lucy put in. ‘I do so want her to come to us.’

‘Lucy,’ he said patiently. ‘You know how careful we have to be over—’

‘Oh, my lord, I did not mean…’ Emma said. ‘I was not…’ She stopped and began again. ‘Teddy has been educated to good degree; he is not looking for domestic work. He has gone to India House and will doubtless be given employment there.’

‘Of course. Your father’s name will be known to them.’

‘Yes,’ she said, wishing the ground would swallow her. This was becoming harder and harder, but once started on the deception, there was no way she could stop it without confessing all. And she could not do it. Teddy was relying on her.

‘As for wages,’ he went on. ‘What do you say to fifty pounds a year and all found?’

Emma had no way of knowing that this was more than generous and did a quick conversion to rupees, which was a futile exercise because standards were so different in India. On the other hand, she would be living in and, as pin money, it would do very well. The only trouble was that if Teddy did not find a post where he could live in, she would have to pay for his lodgings. ‘I would prefer to be paid monthly, my lord,’ she said.

‘Very well, monthly it shall be.’ He smiled and held out his hand. ‘Let us shake hands on the deal and you may start as soon as you wish, then you will have time to become accustomed to your duties before the Season begins in earnest.’

Emma found her hand clasped in a cool, dry grip and found herself thinking what an uncommonly attractive man he was, not only physically, but in temperament. His smile made her feel as though she was of some consequence; he treated her like an equal even when he had no cause to think of her as anything but a servant. She hated herself for deceiving him and didn’t know how she was going to survive seeing him every day and living a lie.

Perhaps he would be busy, out and about doing masculine, bachelor things, and she would not need to see much of him. Why did that thought sadden her? ‘Thank you, my lord,’ she said, retrieving her hand. ‘I will start the day after tomorrow, if I may.’

‘Oh, I am so pleased,’ Lucy exclaimed, as Dominic went over to the secretaire and opened a drawer. ‘I shall look forward to seeing you then.’

‘You will need this.’ Dominic came forward, offering a small bag which Emma realised contained coins.

‘My lord?’ she queried doubtfully. ‘I have earned nothing yet.’

‘It is customary, Miss Woodhill, to give a small advance for clothes and suchlike.’ He gave Lucy a warning look to stop her contradicting him. ‘You know better than I what you need.’

Emma wondered if he were criticising her dress, but she was in no position to be disdainful of an advance. She accepted gratefully and took her leave, hardly noticing the young man who was at that moment approaching the house. She had done it! She had a job and somewhere to live, and she only hoped that his lordship never found out the truth. Somehow she knew he would be more hurt than angry and she never wanted to hurt him. She would have to work hard, learn her job and be a true friend to Miss Besthorpe.

Her reverie was brought to a startling end by a commotion in the street. A chimney boy, black as Satan and carrying a bundle of brushes on his shoulder, had turned suddenly towards one of the houses and his pole had come into contact with the rump of a horse which had been hitched to a tree outside the Marquis’s gate. The startled animal bolted, to the accompaniment of screams and shouts from passers-by, which only served to increase its terror. Its owner, who had been taking the steps, two at a time, up to Lord Besthorpe’s door, turned to run after it. Emma sprang back out of his way as he brushed past her, just as someone darted out from nowhere and grabbed the runaway’s reins.

In that moment she realised, with a shock, that it was her brother and he was being dragged along the road, while everyone in the vicinity stood and stared. But he clung on manfully and brought the horse to a shuddering halt. He was standing with his head up against the horse’s, murmuring soothingly to it, when its owner came up to him. Emma hurried to join them.

‘I’m obliged to you, young shaver,’ the man was saying and Emma realised it was the man who had been with Lord Besthorpe at Grillons the evening they arrived in London. There was no mistaking his red-gold locks. ‘That was a spunky thing to do. Nelson could have caused no end of a furore with the traffic. He might done untold damage, not to mention injuring himself.’

‘He is still very agitated,’ Teddy said, patting the stallion’s neck. ‘It is hardly to be wondered at—such an out-and-out thoroughbred is bound to be spirited.’ The horse whinnied with pleasure at the fondling and soft voice of the young man. ‘See, he knows, doesn’t he? I wonder you subject him to the city traffic, sir.’

‘Impudent young bratling!’

‘Teddy, do mind your manners,’ Emma put in. She turned to the horse’s owner. ‘I am sorry for my brother’s rudeness, sir. I am afraid he was always more outspoken than was good for him. He meant no criticism.’

’emma, I do not need you to speak for me, much less tell what is in my mind,’ Teddy said. ‘A man who subjects a horse like that to the noise and bustle of city streets don’t deserve to own such a one.’

Emma was horrified, but the man started to laugh and he kept on laughing, until Teddy’s own mouth twitched and Emma found herself smiling.

‘You obviously know your horses, young man. Where did you learn about them?’

‘In India. We take care of our horses there.’

‘So we do in England.’ He smiled. ‘I do not customarily ride race horses in town and you were quite right to chide me, but, you see, I have only half an hour ago purchased him at Tattersall’s and could not resist the opportunity to ride him home.’

‘I beg pardon, sir,’ Teddy said. ‘I should not have been so quick to criticise without knowing the whole, but…’

‘No, you should not.’ He took the reins from Teddy’s hand and patted the horse. ‘But I am obliged to you for stopping him.’ He felt in his pocket for a coin with which to reward the boy.

‘I’ve seen you before,’ Teddy said, reluctant to let the beautiful animal go and ignoring the proffered half-crown. ‘You were at Grillons the other night with…’ He stopped suddenly confused, when he saw the man he had referred to as a Corinthian striding towards them.

‘I heard the commotion,’ he said. ‘Bertie, what’s amiss?’

‘I was on my way to see you, wanted to show off my latest purchase, tied him to a tree. Trouble was he was spooked by a chimney boy and this young shaver, not only stopped him, but afforded me a lecture on how I should look after him.’

Dominic smiled. ‘And you disliked that, I do not doubt.’ He walked slowly round the animal, now standing patiently at the side of the road. ‘He’s a beauty, isn’t he?’

‘Top of the trees. I bought him for stud, but I think I might give him a race or two. You should have seen him gallop down the road. Scattered everyone, except the lad.’

Dominic turned towards Teddy. ‘Mr Woodhill, I am happy to make your acquaintance.’

‘Oh, I am sorry,’ Emma put in, suddenly remembering her manners. ‘Lord Besthorpe, allow me to present my brother, Edward. Teddy, this is the Marquis of Cavenham.’

‘Marquis?’ Teddy’s expression was almost comical. ‘I say, Em, that’s a turn-up, ain’t it?’

‘What is?’ demanded the owner of the horse.

‘Why, that we should have bumped into his lordship three times in less than a se’ennight,’ Teddy said. ‘First on board the ship from India, then at Grillons. And I said to Em…’A look from Emma silenced him, for she was sure he was going to say something indiscreet.

‘Teddy, his lordship has been kind enough to give me a position in his household.’

‘Has he? Oh, that’s capital!’

‘Are you looking for work, young man?’ The query came from the man Dominic had addressed at Bertie.

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Are you as good with horses as you say you are?’

‘Course I am. Ask my sister.’

‘Then I’ll give you a trial in my stables.’

‘A stable lad!’ said Teddy in tones of contempt. ‘I ain’t so sure…’

‘Teddy, don’t be so ungrateful!’ Emma remonstrated.

‘Mr Cosgrove doesn’t have your ordinary kind of stable,’ Dominic put in. ‘He’s one of the country’s foremost racehorse owners and breeders.’

‘There’s more like this one?’ Teddy queried, patting Nelson’s shining black neck.

‘Yes, several,’ Bertie said. ‘You’d have to come down to Newmarket and live in with the other lads. If you come up to the mark, you’d be able to exercise the horses of a morning.’

‘That’s no problem at all,’ Emma put in before Teddy should be foolish enough to turn down the offer. ‘He really is exceptionally good with horses. Why, I’ve known him break the most skittish pony and had him trotting around as docile as you please in no time at all.’

‘Let us go back indoors to discuss it over a glass of something,’ Dominic suggested. ‘We can hardly do business on the road.’

So they all went back inside and the details were arranged to everyone’s satisfaction over claret wine for the men and ratafia for the ladies, as Lucy soon joined them. By the time they left, Emma and Teddy felt as if they had known the Marquis and his friend, Mr Cosgrove, all their lives.

‘There’s a turn-up and no mistake,’ Teddy said, as they made their way home, having been persuaded to take nuncheon at Bedford Row. ‘It’s fate, that’s what it is.’

‘What is?’

‘Why, meeting Lord Besthorpe again. I knew he was top of the trees when I first set eyes on him at Grillons. And to think you saw him before that and never said a word.’

‘Why should I? We simply passed each other when I was disembarking and he was coming on board.’

‘But he took the trouble to discover your name, didn’t he? It must have been more than that.’

‘Well, it wasn’t,’ she said, thoroughly annoyed with him. ‘Now, if you please, we will not say another word about the gentleman.’

‘I think he’s a real out-and-outer,’ he continued, ignoring her plea to drop the subject. ‘Now you are likely to see him every day, he cannot help but notice you.’

‘Teddy, if you do not hold your tongue this very minute, I shall never speak to you again.’

He laughed and skipped out of the way of her upraised hand. Not that she would have struck him; it was a meaningless threat. ‘Had you forgot I am going to Newmarket tomorrow?’ he said. ‘You will not be able to speak to me for a long time.’

It was perfectly true and the reminder saddened her. Because their father had frequently been away from home, they had fallen on each other’s company more than most siblings, which perhaps accounted for Emma’s ability in what might be considered masculine pursuits like shooting, fishing and riding hard. Only when Teddy was at school had they been parted. But he was right to say that he was no longer a child and must make his own way. She must learn not to mind.

‘I am going to spend the rest of the afternoon shopping,’ she said. ‘Do you need anything?’

‘No, thank you. Nor do I wish to be dragged round town looking at fripperies. I am going to Bullock’s Museum to see Napoleon’s coach. I believe there are other memorabilia from the Waterloo battlefield. Very gory, some of it. I shall see you this evening.’ And with that he sauntered off, leaving her to make her own way to Pantheon’s Bazaar.

A visit to that establishment had been suggested to her by Lucy when she had ventured to ask where she could buy ready-to wear clothes at a reasonable price. The name made her think of India, but the emporium, when she found it, was nothing like an Indian market, for it was a large store.

She spent some time wandering through its departments bewildered by the array of garments and accessories for sale and carefully enquiring the price of everything. The Marquis’s advance had been generous but she was determined not to spend it all at once. One good day gown and something for evenings should suffice, together with a pelisse, a good pair of half-boots, and a bonnet and gloves. These, together with the clothes she had brought from India would, she decided, make up an adequate wardrobe. After all, she would not be going on the town herself. When it came to choosing style and colour, she found herself wondering what Lord Besthorpe would prefer, which was very silly and did not help her make up her mind.

In the end she chose a round gown for day in a green and cream striped jaconet with a cream lace pelerine collar and puffed sleeves. The evening gown was more difficult; there was a bewildering display of materials: silk, satin, net, gauze, some of it almost transparent and in every colour imaginable, trimmed with beads, pearls, ribbons and feathers. The temptation to buy one of these gorgeous creations would have been almost impossible to resist if they had not been above her means.

She was not a giddy schoolgirl going to her first ball, she told herself, she was a mature woman who was expected to watch over the morals and well-being of her young charge. She must blend into the background. On the other hand, she must not be a dowd for that would reflect badly on the Marquis. She must be a credit to him.

She had been excessively cross with Teddy for his teasing, but that did not alter the fact that his lordship’s good opinion was very important to her. He had believed every fib she told him, and that made her feel distinctly unworthy. It behoved her to prove to his and her own satisfaction that she deserved the chance he was giving her.

The shop assistant was looking at her with a degree of impatience and there were others jostling behind her, clamouring for attention. She seized upon an open gown of amber crepe over a pale lemon satin slip. It had short puff sleeves and was decorated under the bosom with a cluster of silk primroses and floating velvet ribbons.

After that, buying accessories was a simple matter and having given instructions for her purchases to be delivered to Bedford Row, she made her way back to her lodgings for a last meal with Teddy. Tomorrow was the beginning of a new life. Whether it would be difficult or easy, happy or sad, she had no way of knowing, but whatever it was, she was determined to meet its challenge with good humour and fortitude.