The Wicked Cousin

by Stella Riley

  ‘I can do that myself if Isabel will let me. And if it wasn’t for the way it came about, I probably wouldn’t stand in her way. As it is, though … I just don’t know.’

  ‘It seems to me that babies are the very devil,’ observed Nicholas. ‘Isabel wants one; the pair of you have been accidentally stuck with one; and I’m left praying that Rock and Adeline do better next time.’ He raised his glass and added darkly, ‘There’s a motto in this somewhere, mark my words.’

  ‘Motto?’ queried Philip.

  ‘I think he means a moral,’ grinned Sebastian. ‘Though what it may be is beyond me.’

  * * *

  Cassie looked in vain for Mr Audley, first at Lady Hervey’s musicale and then at the Faulkner rout. Obeying her father’s ban on calling in Conduit Street was one thing, she thought crossly; avoiding social engagements where they might ordinarily have met was quite another. He was resourceful, wasn’t he? Not averse to taking the odd risk? So why hadn’t he at least sent her a note? It had been three whole days. It didn’t sound much unless one was plagued by a restlessness that never, ever went away and a feeling that one was slowly starving. The Valkyrie stirred again and decided to take matters into her own hands.

  * * *

  Sebastian looked at the note and groaned. He shouldn’t go. That was clear enough. But he couldn’t simply stay away, leaving her waiting and wondering why he hadn’t come; equally, writing to her without her parents’ knowledge would be tricky – if not impossible. All of which left only one alternative.

  As before, he waited just inside the Duke Gate and watched her ride up, trailed by the same groom who’d accompanied her previously. He’d intended to be stern and sensible and tell her she shouldn’t be here and neither should he and that he ought to turn around and go home. Instead, her smile had him saying weakly, ‘This isn’t wise.’

  ‘I know. But just a few minutes can’t hurt … and I haven’t seen you anywhere since that awful night.’

  ‘I know. But I must avoid embarrassing hostesses with my presence until I’m quite sure that they all know there’s no truth in what happened. I tried to write to you but couldn’t find the right words when I realised I’d have to leave my letter unsealed for Sir Charles to read. I can’t afford any more risks, you see. Your father has been a good deal more forbearing than I’ve any right to expect – particularly about Miranda’s latest trick. One more cataclysm and he’d be right to wash his hands of me.’

  ‘He can’t. I won’t let him.’ She held his gaze with her own. ‘Did he tell you what I said to him about how – how I feel?’

  ‘Yes.’ Sebastian bathed her in a slow, very sweet smile. ‘He did. But do you think you might tell me yourself?’

  ‘Yes.’ Her colour rose a little but she didn’t look away. ‘I daresay there’s a better way of saying this but I don’t know what it is. I love you – and love you and love you. So much that there aren’t enough words to describe it.’

  Something shifted inside Sebastian’s chest and, not for the first time, he damned the fact that he couldn’t put his arms around her. So he said gently, ‘I love you in exactly the same way. Always and forever.’

  ‘I could have told you before. I wish I had. But … somehow I couldn’t quite believe that you meant it. It was only later that I realised you’d never say something like that if you didn’t.’ She shrugged faintly. ‘Truthfully, the possibility that you might actually love me was too immense for me to grasp.’

  ‘You think I don’t feel the same? I’m the one whose doings have been laid out for public consumption in the scandal-sheets. It doesn’t matter that most of it is fiction; that I haven’t fought umpteen duels and bedded every woman from here to Constantinople. What matters is that people think I have – and it doesn’t make me look very promising husband material.’ He stopped, drawing an uneven breath. ‘I never understood why you didn’t read Olivia’s scandal sheets. You should have.’

  ‘No. That is the very last thing I should have done … which is why I burned them.’

  ‘You what?’

  ‘After that night at the theatre, the mere thought of them made me feel sick. So I burned them. All of them.’

  For several seconds, words failed him but finally he said, ‘I wish we weren’t on horseback in a public park. This is one of those times when only actions will do. And I have an overwhelming urge to show you exactly how I feel about you.’

  ‘Oh.’ A single pulse throbbed deep inside her and she said softly, ‘I wish you could.’

  ‘So do I.’ He grinned at her. ‘Your father swears I’ve turned you into a Valkyrie, you know.’ And when she looked blank, ‘An avenging shield-maiden, love – with a sword.’

  ‘Oh dear.’ She laughed. ‘I wanted to make myself quite clear. But perhaps I overdid it.’

  ‘You certainly left no room for doubt. Did you really say that if I asked you to marry me, you’d do it even it meant we had to elope?’

  ‘Yes. At the time, I was … well, I wasn’t thinking very clearly. I was furious about what had happened and that we were being kept apart when I knew you must have been feeling wretched.’ She looked down, fiddling with her reins. ‘I probably let my tongue run away with me. And since you hadn’t asked, I definitely took too much for granted when I told my parents what I’d say if you did.’

  ‘No, love. You didn’t. I’d have asked before if I’d thought there was the slightest chance you might say yes – and I’d ask right now if we weren’t in a wholly unconducive location.’ He smiled at her. ‘I’d like to do it properly, Cassandra. A girl deserves to see the man who loves her on his knees at least once in her life.’ A movement away to his left caught the tail of his eye but vanished before he could be sure he’d seen anything. It was enough, however, to make him say, ‘Much as I deplore the necessity, we shouldn’t linger and chance being seen by someone who might recognise either one of us. I believe I’ve made Miranda aware that any further attempts to ruin me will rebound on her and I think the damage from that scene outside the theatre has been averted. But I promised your father I’d have a care for your name … and this isn’t the way to do it.’ He hesitated. ‘Sir Charles did tell you that child was quite definitely not mine, didn’t he?’

  ‘Yes – but I knew that anyway.’

  ‘You did? How, exactly?’

  ‘Because if it had been yours, you would have taken care of it.’

  Sebastian drew a long breath. He said, ‘Yes. Yes, I would. And thank you.’

  ‘For what?’

  ‘For honouring me with the sort of trust I’ve done nothing to earn.’

  She shook her head. ‘Do you think I don’t know you at all?’

  ‘I think you had reason to wonder.’ He leaned over to place his hand over hers. ‘Try to be patient, sweetheart. This hiatus will soon be over and when it is … when it is, I’ll ask the question I haven’t the right to ask now. Everything will work out. I promise.’

  * * *

  Sebastian arrived back in Cork Street to find two letters waiting for him.

  Sir John Fielding of Bow Street informed Mr Audley that Alice Moore had been taken from an orphanage in Foster Lane, ostensibly by a female wishing to adopt her. The orphanage was willing to resume its responsibility for the child, if required and Lord Philip Vernon had been apprised of the situation.

  Philip’s note said, Isabel won’t see you. I told her you’d come – but she says Alice will leave this house over her dead body. Nothing is going to persuade her otherwise – and I can’t bear to try. She and the little mite adore each other.

  * * *

  That evening, just as Sebastian was debating the wisdom of attending Lady Moreton’s soirée, an imperious tattoo at the front door heralded the arrival of a visitor. Two minutes later, the Earl of Sarre strode into the parlour and said crisply, ‘What the devil’s going on between you and Cassie Delahaye? Didn’t I make myself clear on that subject?’

  ‘Yes. And if you’ll take off your hat and sit down
--’

  Adrian dropped his hat on the nearest table but remained standing.

  ‘Tell me you’re not using that girl to win our wager.’

  ‘I’m not. And you should know better than to ask.’

  ‘Then what are you doing?’

  ‘Getting married, I hope.’

  The earl’s silver-grey eyes pinned him with an acute stare. ‘Are you serious?’

  ‘Very. Adrian – will you please sit down, take a glass of wine and let me explain? I’ve no idea what you’ve heard but --’

  Tossing his gloves after his hat, Adrian finally sat down saying irritably, ‘What I’ve heard is the gist of a virtually incomprehensible letter from Cassie which alarmed Caroline sufficiently to insist I ride eighty miles to get to the bottom of it.’

  ‘Oh. My apologies for that. What did Cassandra say?’

  ‘Far too much, in my opinion. It began with a lot of nauseating stuff about how handsome you are – and honourable and kind and utterly irresistible – but I mostly skipped over that part.’

  ‘That’s a pity. It sounds like the best bit.’

  ‘Then came something about a play and a by-blow of yours being produced in front of a crowd of folk in Drury Lane – except that the child was absolutely not yours and Cassie would have been quite certain of that even if it hadn’t had the wrong colour hair. No – please don’t interrupt. I might lose the thread completely – not to mention the plethora of under-scorings. Next, as I recall, were more besotted ramblings about you and how, if and when you ask, she’ll marry you no matter what anyone says – the point there, to my mind, being the fact that you hadn’t asked. And finally, just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, an evil witch whom Cassie wanted to kill with her bare hands came into it.’ Sarre surveyed Mr Audley with mocking invitation. ‘I’ll take that glass of wine now while you explain. But if you’ve any care at all for my sanity, you’ll stick to the facts.’

  ‘I’ll try – though it’s a tall order.’

  Sebastian poured wine, handed Adrian a glass and began, for what felt like the hundredth time, to explain the recent machinations of Miranda. Then, when he got to the end, he said, ‘The only thing that matters is this. I never intended to fall in love with Cassandra but I could no more stop it happening than I can stop breathing. So rid your mind that it has anything to do with our wager. It hasn’t. I love her and can’t contemplate my life without her – and I fully intend to marry her as soon it’s possible. She knows that and so do her parents. Unfortunately, there’s another hurdle to cross – for which I’ll need the help of my father. And there’s no guarantee that I’ll get it.’

  ~ * * ~ * * ~

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Her parents having been invited to dine with the Marquis and Marchioness of Amberley, Cassie attended Lady Linton’s assembly with Jack and Althea Ingram. Since Mr Audley was unlikely to be present, she didn’t expect to enjoy it very much … but nothing could have prepared her for what the evening had in store.

  The assembly was the same as any other party hosted by Viscountess Linton – which was to say, less formal than most other functions and, like its hostess, vaguely haphazard. Cassie danced with some of her usual partners and chatted with various acquaintances. Several of the latter asked if she’d heard that the child the foreign female had tried to lay at Mr Audley’s door was absolutely not his. Cassie expressed suitable shock, agreed that the whole episode had been quite dreadful and went on her way inwardly smiling. She was disappointed not to find Nell and Harry in attendance and surprised that Philip and Isabel were not there either – Lady Linton being Isabel’s mother. Sighing, she wondered how soon Althea would be ready to leave.

  She was about to adjourn to the ladies’ retiring room when a footman appeared at her elbow and said, ‘Beg pardon, Miss – but a note’s just been left for you. Fellow as brought it said it was urgent.’

  Startled, Cassie took the paper he was holding out as if he thought he might catch something. The reason for this, she realised, was that the note was scrawled on the back of a School for Scandal playbill. Frowning and finding an empty chair, she sat down to read it. Half a minute later, she was on her feet again, her brain in a whirl.

  I’m in trouble, Cassie. I wanted to see the play but someone’s picked my pocket and I haven’t the money to get home. Please help me – and please, please don’t tell Mama! I’m in Covent Garden by the theatre. Come quickly. I’m scared.

  Olivia

  Several thoughts jostled for position inside Cassie’s head. First came the realisation that she couldn’t recall the last time she’d seen her sister’s handwriting so had no way of knowing if this was it. Then she wondered if Livy really was stupid enough to sneak out of the house alone to watch a play from the public pit and expect to get away with it. Finally, with a groan, Cassie realised that of course she could. There were times when Olivia didn’t have the sense of a flea. If she had, she’d have summoned a hackney to take her back to Conduit Street where Marsden, the butler, would pay the driver. It was what Cassie was going to have to do since she had no money either. Consequently, there was no possibility that this could be kept from Mama and Papa. The best that could be hoped for was that no one else found out about it. But right now, if Livy was alone at night in Covent Garden of all places, something had to be done quickly.

  Slipping from the ballroom, Cassie sent one footman to find her cloak and another to inform Mistress Ingram that she’d been unexpectedly called away and would explain everything tomorrow. She hoped that by tomorrow she’d have come up with a convincing lie. She also wished there was someone she could ask to accompany her. Travelling alone at night in a hired vehicle wasn’t something she had ever done before and it suddenly felt a little frightening. If Sebastian had been there, or even Nicholas … but neither were. In fact, the only gentleman present who she’d trust to keep Olivia’s indiscretion to himself was Jack Ingram; but Jack wouldn’t leave Althea alone at a ball – which meant she’d have to come with them and thus making the whole mess even more complicated than it already was.

  It was whilst tying the strings of her cloak and noting with some relief that a hackney coach stood idle across the street that a measure of logic replaced her initial panic.

  What am I doing? she thought. I can’t manage this on my own and I’d be stupid to try. If something goes wrong, I’ll be in as much trouble as Livy – more, probably. And since Papa is going to know about it anyway, what is the point of racing off to Covent Garden alone? I must have been as mad as Olivia to even think of it.

  Reaching the coach and suddenly knowing exactly what she should do, she said crisply, ‘Amberley House in Hanover Square, if you please. And quickly.’

  * * *

  Mr Audley and Lord Sarre returned to Cork Street from Sinclairs at a little after eleven. Agreeing that the evening was still young, they settled down with a glass of port and – since his lordship was averse to playing cards and flatly refused to make an idiot of himself over the chessboard – contented themselves with conversation.

  ‘Is Mr Maitland still at Sarre Park?’ asked Sebastian.

  ‘No. He went back to Halifax a week ago. Meanwhile, the renovation of the north wing has taken place at unprecedented speed thanks to a regiment of workmen. God alone knows what it has cost. But we now have a new roof, new floorboards and no rot of any kind anywhere. Caroline is delighted and currently knee-deep in redecoration. She’s even started talking of a small house-party in August if the house is ready by then. Just friends – of which she’s hoping you will --’

  The remainder of his sentence was cut off by a furious pealing of the doorbell. Having given his few servants leave to retire, Sebastian strode into the hall, opened the door and was promptly pushed aside by Sir Charles Delahaye who stormed past him, snapping, ‘Where is she?’

  Sebastian was suddenly very cold. He said, ‘Not here. Why --?’

  ‘Not?’

  ‘No. What --?’

  ‘Oh God.’
A white shade bracketed Charles’s mouth and he looked as if he’d aged ten years in a single moment. ‘It was my only hope.’

  Sebastian’s hands were shaking and a rock had wedged itself in his throat, making speech impossible. Adrian gripped his shoulder briefly and said, ‘Sir Charles … sit down and tell us what has happened. It’s Cassie, I take it?’

  ‘Of course it’s Cassie!’ Charles allowed himself to be led into the parlour but remained on his feet. ‘If she’s not here, I don’t know where to look. She was at the Linton assembly, then she left in a hackney. She told the driver to take her to Amberley House but she never got there.’ He tugged at his already loosened cravat and added, ‘It’s been almost two hours, for God’s sake! She could be anywhere by now.’

  Sebastian finally managed to lock away the fear that had been paralysing every part of him. ‘Have you questioned Lord Linton’s servants?’

  ‘What do you think?’

  ‘Then you must have some idea of what would make Cassandra leave a ball, alone and in a hired carriage.’

  ‘There was a note. Something scribbled on the back of a theatre playbill, apparently. The footman who gave it to Cassie didn’t read it because he couldn’t. But whatever it said caused her to ask for her cloak and send Althea Ingram word that she’d had to leave.’

  ‘Without saying why?’

  ‘Yes. But if she was going to Amberley House, it was to find me. Serena and I were dining there.’

  ‘So the note said something she felt should be kept in the family.’

  ‘I – yes. I suppose that must be true. But she didn’t get to Amberley House and she isn’t at home either. I thought – I prayed that she’d changed her mind and come to you instead.’

  ‘Two hours ago, I wasn’t here. Cassandra wouldn’t have known that – or where she might find me.’ The suspicion he was too frightened to contemplate swelled like a rising tide inside his head and set up a chant of, No, no, no. This can’t be happening – except that he knew it could and that what he needed now was clear thought and immediate action. Wheeling back towards the hall, he mumbled, ‘Excuse me. I need boots.’