Читать книгу Dear Deceiver - Mary Nichols, Mary Nichols - Страница 6

Chapter Three

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Emma had expected to find her accommodation a little spartan, probably at the top of the house where the other servants lived, but that was not so. Lucy insisted on having her close to hand and Emma was given a room on the second floor, just along the corridor from Lucy’s suite of bedroom and sitting-room. It was large and well-furnished though, like the rest of the house, a little shabby. She didn’t mind that; it made it all the more cosy.

She also discovered she was not to eat in the kitchen but with the family, as well as to go out and about everywhere with her charge, even when his lordship himself was to be in attendance, which he was during the first few days. It did nothing for her peace of mind to have him in such close proximity but she supposed it was only natural that he would wish to satisfy himself that his beloved sister was in good hands and that he need have no qualms about his new employee.

He was always elegantly, though not extravagantly dressed, always courteous and good-natured, but he never gave the impression of weakness. Physically he was a powerful man with a temperament to match; he knew what he wanted and was determined to have it, while remaining fair to everyone from his sister down to the potboy in the kitchen. Emma did not need to be told that his servants respected and loved him; it showed itself in their cheerful willingness to do the work allotted to them.

He could also be implacable and she made up her mind she would do her utmost not to put him to the test. So she studied her book of etiquette and borrowed others from the library, learned how to dress her charge for every given occasion, to mend her clothes and arrange her hair, so that he would have no cause for complaint.

If he ever found out the reference she had given him was a forgery…no, not a forgery exactly but written to deceive, she would be bundled out of the house in minutes, and without a character. She had not been long at Bedford Row before she discovered exactly what that unpleasant phrase meant, when she learned that one of the kitchen maids had recently been turned off for impertinence to a guest.

‘I’m sure I don’t blame her,’ Lucy told Emma. They were eating en famille and Lucy had been beguiling her with tales of recent happenings. ‘Lady Clarence is insufferably top-lofty and to complain the soup was cold when she had let it sit in front of her a full ten minutes while she bored everyone with the tale of how her bran-faced daughter had engaged the attention of the Prince Regent, which I, for one, do not credit, was too much. I had as lief sent her off without her dinner as punish poor Rose.’

‘Rudeness is something I will not tolerate,’ Dominic put in mildly. ‘Not even when it appears justified. If I had not acted at once, it would have been the talk of the ton that I am unable to control my servants. And from that it would be a short step to saying the whole household is dissolute. What do you suppose that would do for your come-out and your chances of marriage?’

Lucy conceded that he might be right, but the unfairness rankled. ‘I should hope you will wait until the fuss has died down and re-engage her,’ she said, to which Dominic laughed and said she must leave justice to him, an enigmatic answer which convinced Emma more than ever that he must not find out that she had lied to him. The very thought of it made her go hot with shame.

A dozen times a day she had to tell herself that her deception was a necessary evil which would end as soon as the unfairness of her father’s exile was proved, though how that was to be done, she had no idea. Teddy had said that being given employment in Newmarket, close to the Mountforest family home, had been the hand of fate. He would soon uncover the truth and clear their father’s name. Once that was done their uncle would have to acknowledge them and provide them with whatever legacy had been due to their father.

When that happened, she would be able to tell Lord Besthorpe the truth. It was important to her that he should understand and forgive. Very important. She needed his good opinion of her. Already he occupied a tight little corner in her heart, though she would never have admitted it to anyone but her own secret self. At the moment she was content just to be in his house, seeing him, talking to him, looking after his sister.

Lucy herself was a delight. Although anxious to please, she was far from a milksop, having very decided views on a great many subjects and often so determined to have her own way, she came head to head with her brother. It was never acrimonious and very soon one or the other would give way or a compromise would be reached which satisfied them both.

Emma stayed on the sidelines during these exchanges, watching with amusement and marvelling at the way each thought they were manipulating the other, saying nothing unless appealed to and then choosing her words with care.

‘Oh, he can be so pompous when he chooses,’ Lucy said one day when the two young ladies were sitting over some crewel work in Lucy’s sitting-room. ‘I did so want to go to Madame Tussaud’s today. And I want to show you the town.’

‘But his lordship is otherwise engaged, Lucy, and we have no escort.’

‘Pooh to that. We can escort each other. What harm can we come to? There will be plenty of people about. And if Dominic would only allow us to take the carriage, we would have Nobbs to protect us.’

‘That is not the same thing and you know it.’

Lucy put her sewing down in exasperation. ‘What did your previous employer do when she wanted to go out? I’ll lay a guinea to a groat she took you for company and didn’t wait for her brother to accompany her.’

Emma laughed, though she had a twinge of conscience every time her past was mentioned. ‘No, her brother was a schoolboy. And it was different in India.’

‘How? Were there no villains?’

‘There were as many there as in England, I do not doubt, but that is nothing to the point. His lordship has taken the carriage, as well you know, and he has made his wishes very clear. I am afraid, this time, you must own yourself defeated, unless you want him to call me to account for allowing you to disobey him. He would very likely dismiss me.’

‘Oh, no, dear Emma, I could not bear that,’ Lucy said. ‘But I am tired of sewing and it is such a lovely day.’

This was perfectly true. Emma was beginning to revise her first impressions of England as a cold, dismal place. The sky was a pale blue laced with fleecy white clouds; the atmosphere, while not warm, was balmy and the trees, no longer soot-laden, were bursting forth in a delicate pale green. Lucy was right; it was a day for being out of doors.

‘Then let us walk in the park instead,’ she said. ‘I can see no harm in that.’

Fifteen minutes later they were entering Hyde Park by the Stanhope Gate. Lucy was becomingly clad in a lilac sarcenet walking dress with a matching pelisse in a darker tone of the same colour. Her chip bonnet was trimmed with violets and tied beneath one ear with velvet ribbon. She was charmingly attractive and openly enjoyed the looks of admiration she received while not being in the least conceited.

Beneath her green pelisse Emma wore the green and cream striped round gown she had purchased at the Pantheon and which she had been saving for just such an occasion. Her cottager hat, bought because it would be easy to change its decoration and even its shape to make it look different every time she wore it, was on this occasion trimmed with coloured ribbons in shades of green, cream and buff. It was neat and tidy rather than elegant and she tried very hard not to be envious of her companion; if it were not for Lucy she might be in very much worse straits. That her antecedents were as high as Lucy’s must not be allowed to count.

Arm in arm, they proceeded down the path, with Lucy smiling and greeting every other person they met, including the redoubtable Lady Clarence who was bowling by in a barouche, clad in a purple satin outfit and a matching turban covered in sweeping green feathers. Seeing the two girls, she called out to her driver to stop the carriage. When it had come to a halt, her ladyship lifted her quizzing glass to peer at them both, as if wanting to make quite sure her eyes were not deceiving her.

Lucy curtsied. ‘Good afternoon, Lady Clarence,’ she said. ‘May I present Miss Emma Woodhill who has lately come to stay with us. Emma, this is Lady Clarence.’

Emma was subjected to a minute scrutiny, during which she felt as transparent as glass, but she would not be intimidated. ‘Good afternoon, my lady,’ she said, affording her ladyship a token bending of the knee. ‘It is a beautiful day for an outing, is it not?’

The lady was affronted enough at having to suffer an introduction to someone who was so obviously not Quality, but to be addressed directly by that person was the outside of enough. Addressing her remarks to Lucy, she admitted that yes, it was a fine day, but she found the wind rather chilly, especially now she had stopped. Without further conversation she ordered her coachman to proceed.

‘Phew, I thought she was about to quiz us about where we were going,’ Lucy said, totally unaware of her faux pas. ‘I would not put it beyond her to think we had an assignation, though what it has to do with her, I do not know. And why did she stare at you so particularly, I should like to know. You do not have two heads.’

‘Perhaps I am a curiosity,’ Emma said, very conscious of her tanned complexion, though it was beginning to fade. ‘Like the exhibits at Bullock’s.’

‘Fustian! Let us forget all about her. Look, they are playing cricket over there. Shall we go and watch?’

The match, they discovered on drawing nearer, was one between a team from the Prince of Wales’s Own Regiment, two of whom were batting, and another made up of naval officers. Lucy laughed and clapped with everyone else, calling out, ‘Oh, bravo!’ when a particularly good stroke was made.

Emma began to feel a little uneasy. ‘Lucy, dear, do not speak so loudly,’ she whispered. ‘People are staring at us.’

Before Lucy could reply, there was a shout of ‘Look out!’ and the spectators suddenly parted in front of them. Emma caught a glimpse of a young man running backwards to catch a well-struck ball and the next moment he had collided with Lucy and sent her sprawling on the grass.

The ball, indeed the game, was forgotten as he scrambled to his feet and put out his hand to help the young lady to rise. ‘My apologies, ma’am. I did not mean…Are you hurt?’

‘No, no,’ she said, setting her bonnet straight and brushing down her skirt. ‘Think nothing of it.’

‘Oh, but I do. I cannot tell you how sorry I am. Captain Fergus O’Connor, ma’am, your servant.’ He executed a perfect leg, though he was not wearing a coat and his shirt sleeves were rolled up to reveal muscular arms.

‘I think you had better retrieve the ball and return to the game,’ Lucy said, giving him one of her enchanting smiles. ‘They are all waiting for you.’

‘Then they may wait until I discover who you are.’

‘Lucy…’ Emma warned.

‘Lucy,’ he said, grinning at Emma for inadvertently telling him what he wanted to know. ‘That’s a peach of a name to match a peach of a girl.’

‘Sir, you are impertinent,’ Emma retorted.

‘So I may be,’ he said, laughing. ‘But I don’t see the little lady objecting.’

Emma took Lucy’s arm. ‘Come, my dear, we really must be going. Your brother, the Marquis, will be looking for us.’ And with that she eased her charge away.

‘I shall find you again, never fear,’ the Captain called after them, as he rejoined his fellows.

‘Why did you say that?’ Lucy demanded, looking over her shoulder to watch him return to his place on the field. ‘Dominic will not be looking for us.’

‘He will if we are not home soon,’ Emma said. ‘And I have a feeling he might be very displeased if he knew. Don’t you know a lady should never speak to a strange man without an introduction?’

‘It was not my fault the Captain bowled me over…’

’emma laughed. ‘In more ways than one.’

‘Don’t be silly. I am not such a goose as to be taken in by empty flattery.’

‘I am glad to hear it.’

‘He was handsome though, wasn’t he?’

‘Do you think so? I can think of handsomer.’

‘Who? Do tell.’

‘No, I will not,’ she said, thinking of Lord Besthorpe. Now, there was a handsome man and the lady who married him might think herself very fortunate indeed. The more she saw of him, the more she admired him. And the more she admired him the more she regretted deceiving him. She would so much have preferred to be open and truthful. She was honestly beginning to doubt they would ever be able to discover anything about their father’s exile. It had happened so long ago. Oh, if only…

She brought herself up short and her voice, when she spoke, was brisk. ‘I do think we should hurry, Lisa will be bringing in the tea tray before we get home.’

Having decided to say nothing to his lordship about the walk in the park, the girls were both disconcerted when, two days later, Lady Clarence paid a call and brought up the subject herself. It would not have been so bad if Dominic had not decided to stay and take tea with them, but as it was they were obliged to listen in growing mortification as she lectured him on the evils of allowing unmarried young ladies out alone.

‘Not a soul with them,’ she said, with the feathers on her hat nodding in time with her many chins. ‘Not even a footman. My dear Cavenham, I cannot think that you would have consented to it. Why, half the ton was there and witnessed it, and not a scrap of shame between them, bowing and smiling to all and sundry. Why, your sister even exchanged a nod with that rakeshame, Brummell. Everyone knows he is in disgrace with the Regent.’

Emma was desperately worried and longed to offer a defence, but she was wise enough to know that answering back would make matters worse. She looked at Lucy, but that young lady was studying the toes of her kid slippers.

‘Lady Clarence, I thank you for bringing your concerns to my attention,’ Dominic said solemnly. ‘But I think you worry unduly. My sister and her companion had only got down from the carriage for a short walk; our coachman was not very far away, I do assure you.’

‘I saw no coach.’

‘Perhaps not, but it was there and Nobbs was watching over them.’

Emma was horrified to think that he felt obliged to lie to cover their indiscretion, something she was sure he would not do unless there was no other way. It did not bode well for her once Lady Clarence had taken her leave and his lordship would be free to give rein to his undoubted displeasure. She was sure her dismissal was only moments away.

‘Then I say no more,’ her ladyship said, rising and picking up her gloves and reticule ready to depart. ‘But your sister needs a proper duenna to watch over her, if she ain’t to make a cake of herself and you too, and I ain’t afraid to say it to your face, Cavenham. Your dear mama was my friend and she would wish me to point out where you are going wrong.’

Emma saw Dominic’s brown eyes harden and his jaw tighten and she knew the good lady had gone too far, though he was far too polite to tell her so. She exchanged glances with Lucy, who had realised, as she had, that the brunt of his annoyance would land on their heads. He rose as the footman came in answer to his summons to show the lady to the front door.

‘Thank you, my lady,’ he said, polite as always. ‘But Lucy has a very able companion in Miss Woodhill, and I have every faith in her.’

Her ladyship favoured Emma with a look which clearly revealed what she thought of that arrangement. It made Emma throw up her head and meet her gaze with clear green eyes. She could not be subservient to such a one, not even to please Lord Besthorpe.

As soon as Lady Clarence had taken her leave, his lordship sat down again and looked from his sister to Emma. ‘I do dislike gabble grinders telling me how I should go on,’ he said, in a voice that had lost the silky charm of a moment, before. ‘But can you tell me why I should not instantly dismiss you?’

Lucy jumped to her feet, stricken. ‘Dominic, you can’t do that. It wasn’t Emma’s fault and we were not doing any harm…’

‘You were harming my good name and your reputation,’ he said repressively. ‘Please go to your room. I wish to speak to Miss Woodhill alone.’

Lucy hesitated. ‘Please don’t turn her off, Dominic. I will be good, I promise.’

‘Do as I say, Lucilla.’

Lucy knew that when he used her full name he was very cross indeed, and decided there was nothing for it but to obey. Arguing would only make him more obdurate. ‘Very well.’ She put a hand on Emma’s shoulder as she passed her on the way to the door. ‘Don’t let him bully you, Emma. You did nothing wrong.’ With that she left the room, closing the door with a sharp snap that was almost a bang.

Emma turned from watching her go, to see a smile twitching at the corners of his lordship’s mouth. It was gone in an instant. ‘Do you think Lady Clarence was right?’ he asked her.

‘That Lucy was making a cake of herself, my lord? I am afraid I am not familiar with the term.’

Dear Deceiver

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