Читать книгу The Duke's Secret Heir - Sarah Mallory - Страница 11

Chapter Three

‘Well, were you going to tell me I had a son?’

He bit out the words, his mind working frantically. When he had first seen the boy on the stairs he had been forcibly reminded of the portrait hanging in the drawing room at Rossenhall, the one of Hugo and himself as children. When he had been barely four years old. Then he had seen the child’s eyes, green as emeralds, and suspicion hardened into certainty. Now, facing Ellen across the candlelit room, he saw the momentary panic flit across her face and he wondered if she would deny everything.

‘No. Yes.’ She put a hand to her head. ‘So much has happened this evening, my thoughts are in chaos.’ She took a breath, then another before saying slowly, ‘If you have told me the truth, if we are truly married, then Jamie is your heir, Max.’ With an effort she forced herself to look at him. ‘Will you take him from me?’

There was naked fear in her eyes as she whispered the words. If he truly wanted to punish her, he now had the means to do it and no one would blame him. He had every right to take the child. Why hesitate? Why not deliver the killer blow? Four years of pain repaid, in an instant.

He could not do it.

‘That is up to you,’ he said at last. ‘The boy must join my household. You are his mother. And my wife. You may come, too. If you choose to do so.’

She closed her eyes, relief clearly visible in every line of her body.

‘Thank you. Max, I am truly grateful.’

He said coldly, ‘I do not want your thanks. If I do not divorce you, it is for the boy’s sake, not yours.’ With an expert flick he threw the cloak about his shoulders. ‘We will discuss the details in the morning, but the boy will be joining my household as soon as I can arrange for it. With or without you.’

* * *

Max strode back to the Granby Hotel, barely noticing the chill wind that cut across from the Stray. Ellen had said her thoughts were in chaos, but they could be nothing to the turmoil raging within him. To discover his wife living as a widow in Harrogate was bad enough, but that she should be concealing his son was unforgivable.

He knew nothing about Furnell, the man she had taken as a husband. Had she married him as soon as she returned to England and palmed the child off as his? Max slowed his pace. Now his initial rage was dying down he realised the delicacy of the situation. There was no way to avoid a scandal. The news that he was married would shock the ton. It would be the topic of gossip in every drawing room in the land, although possibly not quite such a furore as would be caused by a divorce. And then there was Fred. What would his good friend say when he knew Max had been deceiving him for the past four years?

He stopped and looked up at the stars, exhaling softly. What did he really know about his wife? She appeared to be well respected here, but appearances could be deceptive. She had blown in and out of his life quicker than a desert storm. They had married after barely two weeks’ acquaintance and a fortnight later she was gone. Perhaps he could have tried harder to find her, but he had shied away from telling anyone of his marriage or her desertion, so his enquiries had always been couched in the vaguest terms. Confound it, he should have overcome his shame and embarrassment and set his lawyers to discover what had become of her, then perhaps this whole sorry mess could have been avoided. Now he would need to tread carefully, if he was not to make a bad situation even worse.

A sudden gust of wind jerked him from his reverie. It was beginning to rain. He pulled his borrowed cloak about him and began to walk on. Fred and Georgie appeared to be upon good terms with Ellen, in the morning he would call upon them and find out all he could about the golden widow. Then he would be better prepared to act.

* * *

A sleepless night brought Max no comfort. Finding his wife again had been a blow, discovering he also had a son, an heir, had almost floored him. He would have preferred to think that Ellen had played him false, but not only was the boy the right age, one look at the white-blond hair and emerald-green eyes convinced Max the child was his. By morning he was reconciled to the fact that he had a family, but he must decide the best way to proceed.

He arrived at the Arncliffes’ rented house in Low Harrogate to find his friends still at breakfast. He would have withdrawn again, but Frederick beckoned to him.

‘Come in and sit down, Max. We have campaigned together too often to stand on ceremony. At least take a cup of coffee with us.’

‘Yes, please do,’ Georgie added her entreaty. ‘Perhaps your being here will persuade Fred to eat a little more this morning.’

Max sat down at the table, his eyes wandering over the array of dishes.

‘I know, I know,’ said Frederick cheerfully, ‘there is far too much here for Georgie and me to eat, but I cannot help it. Since Corunna I have always liked my table groaning with food. Not that it is wasted—what the servants don’t eat is given to the poor. What we would have given to see such a breakfast when we were marching through the mountains of Galicia, eh?’

‘Aye, those were hard times,’ agreed Max.

‘Let us not think of it,’ said Georgie, shuddering. ‘When I learned how you had suffered, chased halfway across Spain by the French, I cannot bear it!’

‘Devil a bit, my love, that is the soldier’s lot,’ said Frederick. He reached across and took her hand. ‘And Max here brought me home safe, even if there is a little more to me now.’

Max knew Fred was referring to the musket ball lodged near his lung, the reason for his current ill health. He said, ‘I expected to find you at Sulphur Well this morning.’

There was a slight but definite pause, then Georgie said quietly, ‘He was too weak to walk that far this morning.’

‘Nothing serious,’ said Fred quickly, when Max frowned. ‘I have been trotting too hard, that is all.’

‘When we arrived back last night he could hardly manage the stairs to bed,’ Georgie told Max. ‘He was no better this morning so I summoned Dr Ingram. He has promised to visit us later.’

Frederick gave a huff of impatience. ‘And he will tell you what we already know, that I must expect to be up and down.’ He glanced at Max. ‘Georgie blames herself for keeping me out so late last night, but dash it all, Max, I do not want to sit at home like an invalid, waiting to die.’

‘But perhaps you should have left a little earlier,’ Max suggested.

‘When everyone was having such a good time? Never. It does me good to be amongst my friends. I was particularly glad to see you and Ellen Furnell getting on so well. I have to admit you made a very handsome couple on the dance floor. She’s a dashed fine woman, ain’t she? And Georgie’s closest friend, you know.’

‘Indeed?’

‘Our children are almost the same age so we have much in common,’ Georgie explained.

‘That is good, because I wanted to ask you about her.’

‘What’s this?’ Frederick looked up from the sliver of ham that he was pushing around his plate. ‘Are you interested in the beautiful Mrs Furnell? I vow I shall take it very ill if you throw over m’sister for the golden widow!’

Max could not smile. He knew his friend was funning, but the words flicked him on the raw. How was he to tell his friend he was married and had been for four years? Thankfully, he was saved from replying by the news that Dr Ingram had arrived.

‘So the old sawbones is here, is he?’ Frederick wiped his mouth and put down his napkin. ‘I’ll see him in the sitting room. No sense in climbing all those stairs again. No, no, stay there, Max. Georgie will be back to keep you company in a moment.’

Max watched as Georgie hurried to help her husband to his feet. He noticed how heavily Fred leaned on her shoulder as they went slowly from the room and when she returned a few minutes later there was an anxious crease in her brow.

He said bluntly, ‘He has grown much weaker, even in the few days I have been in Harrogate.’

‘Yes.’ She sat down at the table and poured herself another cup of coffee. Her hands were trembling slightly, but she spoke calmly enough. ‘The bullet has shifted; he cannot breathe so well now. Dr Ingram thinks it will move again, and next time it might be...be fatal.’

‘Is there nothing that can be done? If it is a question of money—’

She shook her head. ‘Thank you, Your Grace, but, no, that would not help. If Fred could be induced to lie in bed and never move then his life might be prolonged, but he says that would be worse than anything. He is getting progressively weaker. Dr Ingram thinks it cannot go on more than a few weeks.’ She hunted for her handkerchief. ‘For myself I am resigned to it, but I hate to think of little Charlotte growing up without her father.’

‘Oh, Georgie, I am so sorry.’

‘Your Grace is too kind.’

‘It is Max,’ he said, grief adding a touch of impatience to his voice. ‘You know how much I hate formality.’

She gave a watery chuckle. ‘I shall try to remember. I wanted to thank you for coming to Harrogate. It has cheered Fred a great deal to have your company. He won’t ask you himself, but I know he would like you to be here until... until the end.’ She wiped her eyes and smiled bravely. ‘That is why I was so pleased you came to the ball last night. You seemed very taken with Ellen Furnell and I hoped she might encourage you to prolong your stay.’

He felt a frown gathering. ‘If I remain in Harrogate, it will be for Fred’s sake and yours. But I did want to ask you about Mrs Furnell.’ He saw the sudden lift of her brows and said quickly, ‘Please—ask me no questions, Georgie, not yet. Just tell me what you know of her.’

‘I cannot tell you a great deal. She was here when Frederick and I arrived and has been in Harrogate a number of years, I believe. We became acquainted almost immediately, because of the children.’ She smiled. ‘I like her very much, she has been so kind to Fred and me. Oh, I know they call her the golden widow, which sounds so very frivolous, but she is very well respected. Truly, she is admired by everyone and gives generously to good causes.’

‘A paragon, then.’

‘You sound disapproving, but I assure you I have never seen any evidence of artifice or ill breeding in her. Since we have been in Harrogate, Ellen has been a very good friend and heaven knows I have needed one.’

‘Yes of course, I beg your pardon,’ said Max. ‘Do you know anything of her husband?’

‘Ellen was already a widow when she first came here, I believe, and her little boy was born here. He is a little older than my Charlotte and will be four in the autumn.’

Her little boy. His son. Something unfamiliar slammed into Max’s gut, surprising him with its violence.

‘Your Grace? Is anything wrong?’

Max saw the innocent enquiry in Georgie’s eyes and knew it was time to tell the truth.

* * *

Ellen waved away the freshly baked muffins that Snow was offering to her. She had no appetite for breakfast, having spent a sleepless night trying to find a solution to the horrors that pressed upon her. Max’s arrival had turned her world upside down. She would set her lawyers to look again at the army records, but in her heart she had no doubt that what Max had told her was true and he was as unhappy as she about the situation.

She felt physically sick with regret. If she had trusted him, they might now be living very happily together, but it was too late for that. She had killed his love, she must face up to the fact and to the future. It did not look very bright, but many couples entered into loveless marriages. She would survive. And at least he was not going to take Jamie away from her—that must be her consolation.

Ellen glanced at the clock. He would be here soon and then she would learn her fate. Most likely she and Jamie would be whisked away to one of his estates, where they would live in seclusion while the shocking news was announced. It would cause uproar, she had no doubt. At some point she must be presented at Court as the new Duchess of Rossenhall and she would have to face the sly remarks and tittle-tattle, but she knew enough of her world to be sure that her story would eventually be eclipsed by another scandal and she would be able to get on with her life.

But what life? Max had been her first, her only love. There had been so many suitors, most of them concerned only with her fortune, but none had ever touched her heart. She had grown up hedged about by warnings that gentlemen would court her for her fortune and she had never found it difficult to keep them at bay. She had developed a protective shell, always laughing, always smiling, until she had fallen in love with Major Max Colnebrooke and let down her defences. She had thought he loved her for herself. She had not told him of her immense fortune, and, although he had said he was the younger brother of a duke, their respective backgrounds had seemed unimportant, a world away from the reality of love under a desert sky. Ellen loved Max from the first moment she saw him and married him without a second thought. If the marriage was legal then everything she owned now belonged to her husband. Even her son. She must make her peace with the Duke, for Jamie’s sake.

She heard the thud of the knocker and carefully put down her half-empty coffee cup. It was time. Snow had instructions to show the Duke into the drawing room and she went there to join him, pausing momentarily outside the door to smooth down her gown and take a deep, steadying breath.

Max was standing before the fireplace when she went in. He was staring moodily at the carpet and when he looked up his expression did not change. Formality and good manners dictated how she should behave. She sank into a deep curtsy.

‘Your Grace.’ Silence. ‘Will you not sit down?’ Ellen perched on the edge of a chair and folded her hands in her lap, trying to look composed. ‘I must tell you how much I...regret...the misunderstandings that have occurred between us.’

‘Ha! Regret, you call it? Treachery, more like.’

She ignored this. ‘I wish to be plain with you, Your Grace. To tell you the truth.’

‘No doubt that will be a novelty for you, madam.’

Ellen winced at his sarcasm.

‘I never lied to you and I will not do so now,’ she said quietly. ‘There never was a Mr Furnell. I never married. When I discovered I was carrying your—our—child, I decided to pose as a widow.’

He looked at her hands. ‘Where is the ring I bought you—did you discard it, sell it, perhaps?’

‘No. It is in my jewel box.’

Ellen thought of the heavy gold ring he had given her, engraved with Arabic characters she could not read but that he had told her said ‘I love you’. Crossing the Mediterranean in the French frigate she had more than once wanted to throw the ring into the sea, but she had kept it, clinging on to the hope that when she was back in England she might be able to prove he had not lied to her, that he really was the man he purported to be. By the time her enquiries were concluded, and her lawyers had told her that Major Max Colnebrooke could not have been in Egypt that winter, she knew she was pregnant and she had put the ring carefully away. It was the only token she had of the child’s father. Now she glanced at the plain gold band on her finger.

‘I thought this was more in keeping for a respectable English widow.’

‘A very rich English widow.’ Her eyes flew to his face and he continued. ‘You say you never lied to me, but you will admit you omitted to tell me the extent of your fortune. I only discovered it once I set about looking for you in England.’

She could not resist saying bitterly, ‘Yet for all my wealth I am not considered a suitable consort for a duke.’

‘A man wants a wife he can trust!’

She winced at that and said quietly, ‘I hurt you very badly, did I not, Max?’

‘More than you can ever know, madam.’

She bowed her head and for a moment there was only silence.

‘And your family,’ he said at last, ‘are they complicit in this subterfuge?’

‘My step-mama knows of it, but she is sworn to secrecy.’

‘She is married to an Arrandale, so no doubt she is accustomed to scandal and intrigue.’

Ellen’s head went up at that. ‘You forget, sir, that until yesterday I thought you had tricked me, that my child would be born out of wedlock. Lady Phyllida understood immediately that I would wish to make a new life for myself. As for my father’s family, when they learned of my disgrace, they immediately cut all connection with me.’

‘Yes, I sent my people to the Tathams in an attempt to find you and they were met with nothing but silence. Of course, they did not know the Duke of Rossenhall was behind the enquiry.’

‘It would have made no difference. I have never told them where to find me.’

‘And is that why you chose Harrogate, to be as far away as possible from everyone you know?’

‘In part. You will recall I was travelling with a companion, Mrs Ackroyd. By the time we returned to England she was very ill. The climate in the east had taken its toll of her health and she was advised to take the waters. We both have too many acquaintances at Bath and Tonbridge Wells, so we hit upon Harrogate. We set up home together and she was with me for twelve happy months.’

Ellen ended on a sigh, wishing her dear friend was with her now. She badly needed support.

‘I remember Mrs Ackroyd very well,’ said the Duke. ‘She was an intelligent and educated woman.’ He hesitated. ‘Please accept my condolences on your loss, ma’am.’

‘What? Oh, no.’ Even in her present situation Ellen could not help smiling a little. ‘She is not dead, sir. She has gone travelling again. Greece and Turkey, this time.’

She saw his lips twitch. So he had not completely lost his sense of humour. But his next words set her on her guard again.

‘You live here unattended, unchaperoned.’

‘I do not need a chaperon.’

‘No, it would sadly curtail your freedom, would it not?’

‘I live here with my servants and my son,’ she retorted, bristling. ‘If I was to behave indecorously, it would be all over the town within days.’ She rose. ‘Now, if that is all you have to say, I beg you will excuse me. You will no doubt wish us to remove from here as soon as possible and I have much to do.’

‘There has been a change of plan.’

Ellen froze. He was going to take Jamie. He had decided to divorce her, to drag her name through the courts, expose her to ridicule and shame before banishing her from her son’s life for ever.

‘We cannot leave Harrogate immediately.’ Giddy with relief, Ellen sank back on to her chair and as she did so Max continued. ‘It is necessary to remain here for a few more weeks yet. You will continue to live in this house and I shall stay at the Granby. We will be obliged to meet, of course—’

‘Wait.’ Ellen stopped him. ‘I do not understand. Last night you were impatient to quit Harrogate.’

‘I had not then thought it through.’ He walked to the window and stared out. His large frame blocked the light and cast a shadow over Ellen. ‘Frederick Arncliffe is dying. I have given my word that I will remain here with him until the end.’

She nodded slowly. ‘I understand that, Your Grace, but once our situation is known, life here will be very difficult.’

‘Our situation as you call it must remain a secret.’

‘What?’

He turned on his heel. With the light behind him, she could not see his face, but his voice was hard and cold as steel.

‘We must pretend we are merely acquaintances.’

‘No! Do you think I can meet you now in company with equanimity?’

‘You can, madam, and you will.’

‘I will not.’ Ellen was on her feet now. ‘The news of our marriage must come out, that cannot be helped. I am prepared for our situation to be made public, for us to be ridiculed in broadsheets and pamphlets, but think of the uproar if it is discovered we are pretending to be strangers. I will not remain here to be humiliated.’

‘There need be no humiliation if you play your part.’

Her lip curled. ‘Do you think the truth can be concealed? One slip, one wrong word and the gossips will begin to poke and pry. No, Your Grace, you claim that we are man and wife, well, so be it. We shall tell the truth and shame the devil, but I will not play your games.’

She turned away, but in two strides he crossed the room and caught her arm, roughly pulling her back to face him.

‘Believe me, it is no game, madam.’

The words were more of a growl and they sent a shiver running through Ellen. He was so close, towering over her, and awareness crackled between them. The blood pounded through her veins, she felt the power of him, his ability to send all coherent thoughts out of her head. No. She would not allow him to dominate her again. Sheer effort of will allowed her to meet his eyes.

‘I see no reason for the secrecy,’ she told him. ‘It would be intolerable to live such a lie.’

‘I am trying to protect a dying man!’

* * *

Max had not meant to tell her that, but she had goaded him too far. He saw her eyes widen in surprise and the combative fire in their blue depths was replaced by a puzzled look and something softer, something that reminded him of the warm, generous woman he had known in the desert. He thought he had known. Abruptly he released her and walked back to the window, staring out across the Stray. People were promenading, wrapped up and battling against the wind that never seemed to ease up, even in summer.

‘What has my remaining in Harrogate to do with Frederick Arncliffe?’ she asked quietly.

He knew if he wanted her help he would have to tell her something or the truth.

‘Fred and I have been friends since childhood. We joined up together, fought together. We were in the Peninsula, retreating towards Corunna when Fred was hit by the musket ball that he still carries in his lung. There was no time to find a surgeon so I patched him up as best I could and somehow we got him on to one of the ships for England. I had to do my best for him. It was my fault he took that bullet.’

He thought of his life for the past four years. Every moment since Ellen had left him was full of grief, guilt and inescapable duty.

‘But I do not understand,’ she said. ‘What has this to do with me?’

‘When my brother died in a riding accident last year and I became the Duke, my family and friends threw themselves with enthusiasm into finding me a wife.’ He turned to face her. ‘I never told them about our marriage, you see. My pride would not let me. I felt such a fool, marrying a woman I knew nothing about, only to have her leave me and throw in her lot with the enemy.

‘I endured their hints and jests, the constant parading of eligible young ladies. I ignored it all, politely but firmly declined to show interest in any woman. Then Fred got it fixed in his head that his little sister Clare was the bride for me. He thought it a perfect solution, since I seemed so set against marriage. It would stop the matchmakers pursuing me, while making sure his sister and widowed mother were provided for, when he is gone. I should have killed the idea from the start, but that would have meant telling him the truth and I could not bring myself to do that. How could I explain to my best friend, a man who is closer to me than my own brother, that I had married and never told him of it?’ He read the concern in her eyes and added quickly, ‘Clare herself was never in any danger of believing the nonsense, nor her mother or Georgie. We all thought that, with Fred being so ill, it was best not to upset him. But as time has gone on the idea has become more and more fixed in Fred’s brain. I have promised him that I shall look after Clare and I will, but not as a husband.’

‘I quite see that it is a difficult situation,’ said Ellen. ‘However, I am sure, when everything is explained—’

‘No.’ Max shook his head. ‘Fred must never know that I am married.’

She bit her lip. ‘I have been living a lie for nearly four years, Your Grace, I do not wish to compound it with more deceit. I beg you will let me take Jamie away. We could live at one of your properties while you remain in Harrogate. There would be no need then for anything to be said to distress your friend.’

‘Do you think I have not considered that?’ Max responded, impatience feathering his voice. ‘It will not do. I called upon the Arncliffes this morning and know full well that you and Georgie are engaged to meet at least three times in the coming week. She is your best friend; Frederick would expect you to tell her if you were leaving town. He is not a fool, he has already remarked how well we danced together last night. He might well guess at something near the truth.’

She gave an impatient tut. ‘He is even more likely to do so if he sees us trying to act as strangers. I am no actress, I cannot, will not be part of such a ridiculous charade.’ She walked across the room and tugged at the bell-pull. ‘Jamie and I will leave Harrogate tomorrow. I can say urgent business has called us away. What you tell your friends here is up to you, but let us be clear. I will not stay.’

‘You are my wife, madam, you must do as I bid you.’

‘Must I?’ Blue eyes locked with green. Max saw the stubborn tilt to that dainty chin and knew she would defy him. She continued in a steely voice, ‘You may be a duke now, Your Grace, but unless you have the marriage certificate about you, the magistrate would have only your word against mine and the matter would not be resolved without a messy and very public brawl, which is exactly what you wish to avoid.’ Her eyes shifted to the door as the butler came in. ‘Snow will show you out. At present I have no idea where I shall go, but be assured I will keep you fully informed.’

With the butler looking on Max was unable to reply. With no more than a nod he left her, acknowledging that she had won the first round of what was going to be a prolonged battle.

* * *

Ellen did not move as he left the room. She remained on her feet until she heard the soft thud of the front door. Only then did she collapse on to the nearest chair. She was shaking and wanted very much to burst into tears, but there was no time to succumb to such a weakness. There was much to do. A tiny, rebellious voice whispered that she could run away, set up home for herself and Jamie in another town, under another name, but Ellen knew that Max would hunt her down, not for her sake, but for Jamie’s, and if she pushed him too far he might well remove the boy from her care altogether.

She rose and shook out her skirts with hands that were not quite steady. She would take Jamie somewhere they were not known and there she would await the Duke’s instructions.

* * *

A little over an hour later Ellen was in the morning room, writing yet another note regretfully cancelling an engagement, when Snow announced Mrs Arncliffe. Her heart sank when Georgie came in and dropped into a low curtsy.

Ellen said bleakly, ‘He has told you.’

‘Yes, Your Grace.’

‘Pray, do not call me that. We are friends, or we were, until now.’ Ellen clasped her hands together. ‘You must think very ill of me, if Max told you how I deserted him.’

There was nothing but sympathy in Georgie’s eyes when she replied, ‘He told me only there was a misunderstanding.’

‘Did he?’ said Ellen, surprised. ‘That is true, but I begin to think it was all on my part.’

‘I am sure you had good reason.’

‘I thought so, at the time.’ Ellen took a deep breath. ‘I thought Max had tricked me—that he was an imposter and the marriage was a sham. So I hid my disgrace, took another name and came here to live amongst you as a widow. It was wrong of me to deceive you so and I beg your pardon for it.’

‘I think I might have done the same, in your place.’

Ellen managed a smile. ‘Bless you for saying so. Will you not sit down?’

‘Thank you.’

Ellen was gratified that Georgie chose to sit close, as she had always done. As if their friendship had not changed.

‘I had to come,’ Georgie said quietly. ‘Max told me that you were planning to leave immediately.’

‘I think I must.’ Ellen glanced at the little writing table. ‘I was going to pen a note to you, crying off from our walk this afternoon. I am sure you will appreciate there is a great deal to be done.’

Georgie’s hand fluttered. ‘I have come to ask you. To beg you, not to go.’ Her eyes, heavy with sadness, flickered to Ellen’s face. ‘I have no right to ask it of you, but you said yourself we are friends and it is as a friend that I am here. Max came to see me, to warn me.’ She sighed. ‘You know what Harrogate is, Ellen. Your dancing with the Duke last night is already the talk of the town. If you leave Harrogate now, within days of your return, there is bound to be speculation. People will gossip, the resemblance between Jamie and the Duke will be remarked upon—it will be impossible to keep it all from Frederick and if he asks Max direct—’ She broke off, biting her lip. ‘Fred loves the Duke like a brother. He would be deeply shocked and distressed that Max kept such a secret from him.’ She hunted for her handkerchief. ‘I am very much afraid that he will take it very badly and any upset now lays him low.’

Ellen stretched out and touched her arm. ‘Oh, my dear.’

‘It was wrong to let Frederick think that Max would marry Clare, but you see, it gave him such comfort to think that his little sister would be established when he was no longer here to look out for her. We none of us thought it could do any harm, to humour a dying man. And he is dying, Ellen. You saw how tired and drawn he looked last night.’ Georgie wiped a tear from her cheek. ‘Dr Ingram called today and says it cannot continue much longer.’

‘I am so very sorry, Georgie, but—’

‘Please, Ellen, let me give you my reasons for asking you to stay. Believe me, I do not ask it lightly. Frederick is very fond of you and would take your leaving us now very hard. He worries about me, you see, and says often and often that he is glad I have such a friend as yourself to help me through the dark times that lie ahead. Also, Max is afraid that if Frederick found that he had been deceiving him all these years it would break his heart. It would certainly spoil their friendship, which would be very sad, for there is no time to rebuild the trust that has always existed between them. And, finally, if you were to remain here as Mrs Furnell, and to meet with the Duke, Fred might see for himself that Max and Clare will not make a match of it. He would not expect them to marry if the Duke’s affections are engaged elsewhere. He only suggested it in the first place because he knew Max had set his face against marriage.’ She stopped, taking a moment to collect herself. ‘Ellen, I know as well as you that Harrogate will be scandalised when the truth comes out and I quite understand that you do not wish to live a lie, but you have been deceiving us these past four years, have you not? Would it be so very hard to continue the charade for just a little longer?’

Ellen looked into the anxious eyes fixed so beseechingly upon her and she felt her resolve weakening. She gazed down at her clasped hands, gazing at the plain gold ring, the symbol of her own lies.

‘Very well,’ she said at last. ‘You and Frederick have been such good friends to me that I cannot refuse.’ Ellen raised her head. ‘I gave you my word I would be here when you needed me, did I not? I will honour that promise.’

She could almost see the weight lifting from Georgie’s shoulders.

‘Oh, Ellen, thank you. I was so very much afraid you would despise me, knowing what we had done.’

‘Despise you?’ Ellen shook her head. ‘How can I blame you and the Duke for humouring your husband, when I have been guilty of a much greater deceit? No, no, we must do this for Frederick’s sake, I quite see that.’ She reached out and took Georgie’s hands in her own. ‘Now, go you home. It is getting late, so I think perhaps we should cancel our walk this afternoon, but tomorrow morning you must send Charlotte to play with Jamie, as usual.’

‘Of course, and you must take tea with me later in the day, as we do every Sunday.’ As they both rose Georgie put her arms about Ellen. ‘How shall I ever thank you?’

‘By remaining my good friend,’ said Ellen, returning the embrace. ‘I fear I shall be in need of your support. Perhaps, too, you would tell Max of my decision?’ She gave a rueful smile. ‘I confess my pride rebels against informing him of this volte face.’