‘He is becoming tiresome,’ Ezra remarked in a quiet aside to Adela.
‘You don’t have him living in your house.’
‘My advice is to lock your door at night when you retire.’ He glowered at Daniel’s back. ‘He’s desperate and I wouldn’t put anything past him.’
‘Thank you. I shall.’
‘I shall be leaving after supper,’ he said. ‘There is only so much of this I can endure, even for your sake, especially since I cannot monopolise you for the entire evening.’
‘I begin to understand now why society’s rules are so rigid. Some of them actually make sense.’
‘What do you mean?’ He took a glass of peach ratafia from a passing footman’s tray and handed it to her. She thanked him and took a delicate sip before responding.
‘Isn’t it obvious?’
‘Not to me, or I would not have asked.’
‘People form attachments for all sorts of reasons, and from my observations, the feelings of one determined party are not always returned by the person at whom they are directed. And so rather than being impolite, the dissatisfied party can hide behind the rules of conduct.’ She sent him a sparkling smile. ‘As you say, you cannot dance with me again without creating even more speculation. It’s very unfortunate.’ She sent him a conspiratorial grin.
‘True, but in your case I doubt whether you will ever need to remind your admirers about society’s expectations. I cannot imagine you leaving the unfortunate coves in any doubt about your feelings. Or lack of them.’
She bit her lip, but a giggle still escaped. ‘It’s true. I really am a hopeless case, I’m afraid. But, as I think I explained to you once before, I much prefer to speak plainly. That way there can be no possibility of any misunderstanding. I have already upset Mama by telling Daniel that I would prefer it if he didn’t carry through with his stated determination to protect me from what he described as the shark-infested waters of the ton.’
Ezra snorted. ‘It takes one to know one.’
‘That is what I more or less implied.’
‘Be careful, Adela. He may seem harmless, but beneath that urbane exterior I sense a man who bears a massive grudge.’
‘Perhaps, although I’m sure he is not stupid enough to attack me in my own house.’
They both glanced towards the area of the room where Daniel had now retreated to take supper, surrounded by at least two unmarried girls with whom he appeared to be making a determined effort to flirt. He glanced her way every so often, probably in the hope that the sight would make her jealous. Unfortunately for him, Adela only felt extreme relief at the prospect of his settling his interest elsewhere.
‘Never underestimate the determination of a bitter man,’ Ezra warned her.
‘I will certainly follow your advice and lock my door. Other than that, I am never entirely alone.’ She sent him an impish smile. ‘Now tell me where you are rushing off to? A lady whose company you are anxious to enjoy, no doubt.’
‘Nothing nearly so compelling, I regret to say.’ He put his empty glass aside and they followed the rest of the party back into the drawing room. ‘I will leave you to your posse of admirers now,’ he said, taking her hand and kissing the back of it. ‘You will be safe enough in here, and Harker will protect you on the journey home. I will see you tomorrow evening at your mother’s soiree. Try not to get into any trouble before then if you can possibly help it.’
‘The only trouble I ever seem to find myself in, my lord, is when I am in your company.’
Ezra pursed his lips. ‘A point well made, and a situation I mean to rectify. Good evening to you, Lady Adela.’
She dipped a curtsey. ‘And to you, Lord Bairstow.’
She watched his broad back as he cut a swathe through the throng and took his leave of his hostess. Adela was swamped by young men the moment he left her side, Daniel chief amongst them. She bestowed her attention upon the others but largely ignored her cousin. She declined to dance with him again and ensured that she didn’t dance with anyone else for a second time. But the entertainment, she found, had lost its sparkle without Ezra at her side, amusing her with his droll observations. She was not sorry when the time came to leave.
‘That was very refined,’ Mama said, as the four of them made the short journey home in Adela’s carriage. ‘You proved to be very popular again, Adela. I hope you enjoyed yourself.’
‘I did, Mama. Thank you. But dancing until the early hours is exhausting.’
‘You should have sat out for one or two dances,’ Daniel said, ‘as I suggested. I would happily have sat with you.’
‘And deprived the other young ladies of your company?’ Adela cocked a brow at him, even though he probably couldn’t see the gesture in the dim interior of the carriage. ‘That would have been extremely selfish of us both.’
‘I am now head of this family and have a duty to protect you.’
‘Ah, Daniel, excuse me. I misinterpreted your intentions. I did not realise, you see, that you wanted to act in loco parentis. How very reassuring.’
*
Daniel was convinced there must be steam coming from his ears, so much trouble did he have keeping his temper in check at the chit’s impertinence. Who the devil did she think she was, baiting him like a dancing bear? It had been bad enough seeing the way she allowed Bairstow to fawn over her, sending him pretty smiles and flirtatious looks when it was obvious that the cove was toying with her for his own amusement.
Daniel chose to believe that Bairstow had waltzed with her to prove some sort of obscure point. He himself would not have risked her reputation by suggesting they take to the floor for that particular dance. Instead, he had intended to sit it out with her, thereby sending a warning to her other suitors. And they were definitely gathering, just as Daniel had predicted. He had heard one or two of them talking quietly about the best way to make an impression upon her. Part of him wanted to protect her from their stratagems, not all of which she was experienced enough to recognise, despite the sophistication she attempted to project.
Now she had just implied that he was offering to take the place of her father. The damned hussy knew that wasn’t the case.
He realised now that he had miscalculated by not following his mother’s advice and declaring himself when she first arrived in Ripon, bewildered after ten years of being surrounded by constant battles and battalions of soldiers. She had been at her most vulnerable then, but Daniel had done the noble thing and given her time to recover before bombarding her with his attentions. There was no rush. He didn’t want to seem too obvious, but he was confident of meeting with success when he decided she was ready to hear his declaration.
But that time had not come. She had abruptly decided that she would come up to London with her mother, and they were gone before Daniel had time to collect his thoughts. So much for being noble, he thought bitterly. He had given her time to come to terms with her situation, partly because he had no real desire to be married to her. She hadn’t seemed that exciting in the wilds of Yorkshire. But she had blossomed since coming to the capital. Daniel even thought her moderately pretty. She certainly had a way of expressing herself that was forthright and refreshing.
Except when she spoke to him.
They returned to Eaton Square, and all three ladies immediately retired. Daniel headed for the library. He planned to examine his uncle’s private papers to see if he had defrauded him out of any other parts of his inheritance. He turned the handle and found the door locked.
‘Talbot.’ He snapped his fingers at the butler. ‘The key.’
‘Lady Adela has the only one,’ Talbot replied, not bothering to speak deferentially or address him by his title.
Daniel seethed, desperately wanting to give the man a good thrashing for being so discourteous. He resisted the temptation, since word would get back to Adela and cause a serious dispute between them. He wanted to ask what was so precious in the room that Adela felt the need to keep the door locked. But even if Talbo
t knew, he would not tell Daniel. It was almost as though Adela didn’t trust him.
‘Brandy, in the drawing room. At once.’
Talbot took his sweet time bringing Daniel his drink and when it was delivered, the measure was so small that it barely dampened the bottom of the glass. The fire had burned down and no one had bothered to stoke it up for him. Senior servants did so enjoy their petty little games of one-upmanship. Daniel didn’t rise to the bait, dismissing the man with a casual flip of one hand. If he thought that Daniel would be put out for want of a decent fire, he had miscalculated. Daniel had been living in Ripon Hall with its leaking roof and mould-encrusted walls for a year. This elegant drawing room, even without much of a fire, was luxury by comparison.
Daniel swallowed his drink in one, thought of ringing for a refill just to annoy Talbot, but decided against it. He put his empty glass aside and enjoyed the ambience of the tastefully-appointed room. It would be his, no matter what he had to do to bring that situation about. His creditors were already aware of his presence in London. Daniel was at a loss to know how. They were becoming increasingly insistent, but as things stood he couldn’t pay what he owed and had nothing left to sell.
Adela would just have to stop her silly pursuit of Bairstow, face up to reality and marry him. And soon. If she did not, then she would only have herself to blame for the consequences.
Chapter Ten
Adela was up early the following morning, keen to ensure that the preparations for the soiree went ahead without a hitch. It was not that she didn’t have confidence in her servants, it was more a case of wanting them to know that she appreciated their efforts. She knew that Mama would not show her face until much later, and that even when she did she wouldn’t spare a passing thought for the arrangements.
‘Lord Ripon wanted access to the library last night, ma’am,’ Talbot told her, as the two of them stood at one side of the drawing room, watching as the furniture was moved back by a posse of footmen to make more space.
‘I don’t suppose he was looking for reading material.’
Her cousin’s presumptive behaviour worried Adela. He had probably wanted to search through her father’s papers, but what he hoped to find in them was less apparent to Adela. It reminded her that she herself should go through his diaries at the earliest opportunity. Perhaps the reasons for the dispute between the brothers was contained in them. If it showed her uncle in a less than favourable light, it was reasonable to suppose that Daniel would want to eradicate the evidence.
Adela decided that it would be safer to take her father’s collection of letters and diaries up to her own room, where she could pursue them at her leisure. It would guarantee a modicum of privacy, even though she wouldn’t put it past Daniel to pry when she was not at home. For that reason, she would keep her door locked when she was in the room, and the papers safely locked away when she was not.
Talbot tutted when one of the footmen almost dropped a chair. ‘I informed Lord Ripon that you have the only key, as you asked me to.’
‘Thank you, Talbot.’ Adela sighed, wanting to say more but settling for discretion. ‘I can see you have everything under control here, so I shall get out of your way.’
She wandered into the gardens, where her friend the white cat joined her.
‘I shall have to give you a name if you insist upon becoming domesticated,’ she told him, bending to stroke his back. The cat wound itself around her skirts and purred. ‘You are clearly not afraid of people. I shall call you Milo because it suits you.’
Adela and Milo strolled the length of the garden and arrived at the mews. She popped into the tack room to appropriate a carrot and walked the length of the stalls until she came to the one occupied by Willow. The mare gave a little whinny of recognition and stuck her nose over the door in expectation of a treat.
‘I choose to believe you are pleased to see me not only because I bring carrots,’ she told the mare, feeding her the carrot in question. ‘You look very sleek. I think Mr Harker must have groomed you this morning.’
‘That I did, miss.’ Harker came up behind her so quietly that she did not hear him approach. ‘The little madam gets bored if she don’t have attention, then she gets into mischief, just like most females I know.’
Adela smiled. ‘You mix in interesting circles, Mr Harker, but I shall not press you for particulars.’
Harker chortled. ‘That would probably be best.’
‘I thought Talbot would have need of you in the house.’
‘I offered but he doesn’t require my services until this evening. Are you in the mood to ride this morning, m’lady?’
‘Best not, Mr Harker. The house is in uproar, and I don’t want my aunt to take it upon herself to order the servants about. I wouldn’t put it past her. Anyway, Lord Bairstow tells me it is not safe for me to ride when the park isn’t busy.’ She grinned. ‘Not that I take much notice of him, unless it suits me to. I am not good at being told what to do. Tomorrow morning, Mr Harker, you and I will ride and hang the consequences.’
‘If you’re sure.’
‘Perfectly. And I shall need you to drive me to Lincoln’s Inn this afternoon. I have an appointment with my lawyer.’
‘That I can do, ma’am.’
‘Very well. Until later then.’
Milo had disappeared, so Adela wandered back to the house alone. She considered what Talbot had told her about Daniel trying to get into the library, doubting if there was an innocent explanation for his interest in that room. On a whim, she unlocked the door, gathered up all her father’s private papers and dairies and made two trips up to her room, where she locked them away for later examination. The servants were all busy in the drawing room, and no one saw her.
She locked the door again. It would be interesting to see if Daniel proved desperate enough to pick the lock in search of papers that were no longer there. She couldn’t be assured of the privacy in which to conduct her search of the documents she had appropriated until night time, when the house had settled. In the meantime, she needed an occupation. One of the only rooms not disrupted by the preparations was the morning room. Adela collected her book and hid away in it, curling up in a chair as she prepared to lose herself in a fictional world. She hadn’t read two pages before she was joined by her aunt. Inwardly cursing, politeness dictated that she put her book aside.
‘You are about early, Aunt,’ she said. ‘I trust you slept well. Do you have everything you need?’
‘I slept tolerably well, thank you.’ She took the chair across from Adela and warmed her hands in front of the fire. ‘This house is very comfortable.’
‘I barely remember it from my childhood. This might sound indelicate, but I am glad it is still mine.’
‘I should have thought that the Ripon estate would hold fonder memories.’
‘You forget that I was still a young child when I left England. I didn’t have time to form attachments to the estate, which is why I find it comparatively easy to see it pass into Daniel’s care.’
‘It requires a great deal of work to make it profitable again. Since we are speaking frankly, I cannot approve of the fact that your father neglected it in favour of soldiering.’
‘I hope you are not criticising Papa for his patriotism,’ Adela said, bridling. ‘He was required to pass the estate to his closest male relative, which he did.’
‘I am merely making an observation.’
‘I did not see any signs of Daniel attempting to rectify the situation. I should have thought that the banks would be favourably inclined towards a man with his prospects. A little investment in new stock and crops, the procurement of a reliable steward, and the estate will turn a profit in a year or two. Then there would be funds to attend to the house. I really cannot see that Daniel has any cause for complaint.’
Her aunt offered her a thin smile. ‘Life is seldom that straightforward,’ she said in a condescending manner. ‘You are not yet old enough to understand.’
�
�I was merely making an observation. Since the problem is Daniel’s and not mine, I have no particular desire to understand. I shall not go to Ripon again.’
‘Never say never, my dear. I cannot see you enjoying life in London indefinitely.’
‘Why were my father and uncle at odds?’ Adela asked on a whim, convinced that her aunt would know. Whether she would choose to enlighten her, or even to tell the truth if she offered any sort of explanation, was another matter. ‘I asked Papa once, but he got quite cross and wouldn’t say.’
Her aunt seemed suddenly unable to hold Adela’s gaze. ‘What do men ever disagree about? Something and nothing, I dare say.’
‘Excuse me if I do not believe you.’
It was her aunt’s turn to look affronted. ‘I beg your pardon?’
‘I am no longer a child. I never really was one, I don’t think. Growing up surrounded by men fighting for their lives considerably shortened my childhood. How could it not? And now I must take responsibility for my mother as well as myself. I do so gladly but I make the point in the hope that you will not continue to patronise me. If you would prefer not to tell me the truth, even though it is clear to me that you are urgently in need of my help, then simply say so.’
‘I apologise. You are indeed mature for your years. One forgets what you have been through. As a mother myself, please don’t judge me for instinctively wanting to protect you.’
‘From what?’ Adela asked, exasperated. ‘A serious dispute that occurred before Papa purchased his commission, tearing two previously close families apart and severely disadvantaging you? I cannot believe that you don’t know the reason for their dispute, and since Papa and my uncle are both dead I see no reason why you shouldn’t explain it to me. I have a right to know.’
Her aunt looked evasive. ‘It does no good to dredge up the past.’
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