In All Honour

by Beth Elliott

  In desperation she jumped up. ‘I do believe I can see Lizzie beckoning to me,’ she said and darted away before her sister could command her to wait. Sarah wove her way through the crowd of onlookers around the dance floor, going in the opposite direction from Lord Percival. The crowd was thicker at this point but in her haste to escape, she squeezed and pushed her way through the mass of bodies. Just as she was passing them, a large group of young men split up. One of them, backing away, collided with her.

  ‘A thousand pardons, ma’am,’ he exclaimed, turning to face her. ‘How clumsy of me.’ He looked keenly at her face and hair. ‘Why, I do believe we met earlier today.’

  Sarah gazed up into those amber eyes. She was achingly conscious of how well he looked in his dress uniform. The blue jacket seemed moulded to his broad chest and the tight white trousers showed off his powerful legs perfectly. It took a moment before she could find the breath to answer him.

  ‘Indeed, we did, Major Thatcham. And it is I who must apologize. I trust I did not catch your injured arm just now,’ she added, looking anxiously at it.

  ‘Not at all.’ He smiled at her. ‘In any case, the wound is not too tender and you are by far too slight and dainty to hurt a great fellow like me.’

  Sarah noticed how the smile chased the sorrow out of his face and made him look younger. She wanted to tell him how it grieved her to see the depth of his sorrow, but she hardly knew him, after all. Even so, she could not resist trying to keep him by her side for a little longer.

  ‘Are you staying at home until you are fully recovered, Major Thatcham?’

  Immediately his face shadowed once again. His eyes narrowed and his lips compressed. Sarah was wishing the ground would swallow her up when at last he replied, ‘As from tomorrow, I shall be plain Mr Thatcham, ma’am. I shall resign my commission – so, indeed, I shall now be staying put.’

  ‘I can see how much you regret the loss of your military career,’ she faltered. ‘I am so sorry to remind you of the matter….’

  ‘There you are – so you and Greg have met again.’ Lizzie put a hand on Sarah’s arm. ‘Your sister sent me to find you. She is talking to a handsome and very stylish gentleman and I can see she is determined you are to be his partner for the next dance.’

  Sarah’s eyes flashed green fire. ‘I know who it is and you have not found me, Lizzie. Please go away.’

  Lizzie opened her brown eyes very wide. ‘A mystery.’ She glanced at Greg. He too, seemed struck by Sarah’s outburst. She felt angry for betraying her irritation. She tried to smooth the situation. ‘It is just that I feel weary and do not wish to dance at present.’

  Lizzie shook her head. ‘You cannot be tired, it is still early. And I am enjoying my first ball in London – only I do not know many people.’ She fluttered her fan and scanned the dancers wistfully, swaying in time to the lively beat of the music.

  She cast a sidelong glance at Greg. He laughed. ‘Perhaps I can help you there. Ladies’ – he swept them a bow – ‘please wait here. I shall not be long.’

  They watched him move through the crowd. ‘I wonder what he is doing,’ murmured Lizzie. ‘Such a pity he cannot dance at present … Uncle Charlie made him promise to be here, just to keep an eye on me.’ She fanned herself, her cheeks becomingly flushed by the heat in the room.

  Sarah looked her up and down. ‘As I said, the blue silk suits you very well.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Lizzie happily, patting her ringlets, ‘I enjoy knowing I am in the latest mode. And you look very pretty in your pink, it sets off your delicate colouring and, as always, you look fresh and uncrumpled. What a talent you have.’

  ‘I do not feel fresh and cool,’ said Sarah crossly, ‘I feel extremely anxious and alarmed. My sister is pushing me at a man I cannot like.’ She pressed her lips shut in case she might admit too much. Lizzie was inclined to blurt things out without thinking. It would not do to draw any attention to themselves.

  ‘Ladies….’

  It was Greg, with another gentleman by his side. This man was decidedly younger, in fact he still had a rather lanky appearance. He also had copper-coloured hair, but his eyes were blue and twinkling. His face was pleasant and friendly and his smile was so warm and infectious that both girls smiled back at him as if they knew him well.

  ‘This is my younger brother, Richard,’ said Greg. ‘I fear he is a sad rattle but if he does have a talent, it is for dancing.’

  Richard looked reproachfully at his brother. ‘You make me sound a paltry sort of fellow.’ He glanced at the girls and his infectious grin shone out. ‘But let me assure you, ladies, that I do perform well on the dance floor.’ His gaze turned towards Lizzie.

  She nodded eagerly and gave him her hand. Immediately, they took their places in the set. Sarah was left face to face with Greg. He turned his head to watch the other two and she took the opportunity to admire his profile. His nose was straight and his chin firm but not too prominent. Sarah saw again how the smile transformed his face. She thought she could see a likeness to his younger brother.

  That lively young gentleman was making Lizzie laugh already as they performed the country dance. Sarah found herself wishing that her own brother was of a similar character. She was sure Richard Thatcham did not waste all his time in horrid gaming hells and seedy taverns.

  ‘Has something upset you?’

  She started a little, jerked out of her thoughts by Greg’s question. ‘No.’ She forced a smile.

  He looked at her closely. ‘Yet your expression was sad…. If you were wishing to dance, I am sure one of my friends would oblige you. As you see, I am not fit on two counts.’ He gestured towards his sling and then indicated his black armband. ‘My bereavement is not recent but only recently learnt by me.’

  ‘Yes,’ stammered Sarah, anxious not to upset him again, ‘Lizzie did tell me. I am so sorry – such a dreadful loss.’

  He nodded, his face rigid. After a short pause he murmured, ‘Thank you,’ and cleared his throat. They stood quietly together for a little. Suddenly Greg said, ‘But I was offering to find you a partner—’

  ‘Oh no, thank you, actually I am trying to—’

  A rich drawl interrupted her. ‘So I find you at last, Miss Davenport. Your sister directed me this way. My dance, I believe.’

  Sarah almost cringed as Greg swept a glance over the newcomer and then she saw the slight lift of his brows as his gaze swung back to her. She felt a fiery blush creep up from her throat to cover her whole face. Lord Percival took her arm firmly and led her away towards the top of the set. She glanced back to see Greg watching with a puzzled frown.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Lord Percival was indeed looking handsome and elegant and he was light on his feet, but Sarah took no pleasure in dancing with him. He had intruded on her precious few moments with Greg. The surprised look on Greg’s face was mortifying. His expression showed that he was not impressed by her partner, who was a very obvious rake. She found she did not like Greg to have a bad opinion of her.

  Lord Percival’s sharp eyes gleamed with malice. Each time she looked his way, he was watching her intently. Sarah did her best to conceal her annoyance. He appeared pleased with himself for pulling her away from another man and treating her as though she were his personal property. How hard it was to maintain a polite smile when she wanted to scream with vexation.

  Heaven help the lady he did marry, she thought. It was whispered that he had once been engaged, but the young lady’s father had learned such shocking things about Lord Percival’s conduct with women that he had broken off the match. Rumour said that there had been a duel. In fact, he was supposed to have fought several duels and fatally wounded his man on two occasions. And her sister was pushing her to consider him as a husband!

  Sarah swallowed down her distaste as she moved forward in the figure to clasp his hands.

  ‘You are very pensive, Miss Davenport. I do trust I did not interrupt an important conversation.’

  She pushed her lip
s into a smile. ‘Not at all.’

  ‘He was, perhaps, a special friend?’

  ‘Indeed, no, sir. I only made his acquaintance today.’

  He cast a glance towards Greg, still standing where she had left him. ‘One of our Peninsular heroes, I see.’

  Sarah detected a sneer in both his words and tone of voice.

  ‘I believe so,’ she murmured. Instinctively she knew that any sign of interest or admiration from her would goad this man into fury. Greg already had enough woes to deal with. She remembered that Lord Percival was friendly with two government ministers who were violently opposed to Wellington and his Peninsular Army, so no doubt he shared their opinions. And he certainly had a craving to dominate everyone. She felt a prickle of distaste across her shoulders.

  At this point, to her relief, they had to make their way down to the bottom of the set, so he could not say anything for a little while. But when they faced each other once more, she felt those cold eyes boring into hers. He was still on the attack.

  ‘Come, Miss Davenport, it will not do for the prettiest girl in the room to look so glum! Especially not when she is my partner,’ he added, showing his teeth in a cold smile. He held her hand in an uncomfortably tight grasp as they completed the figure. Sarah met his eyes, watching her with a cruel gleam in them. He was determined to dominate her and make her feel his superior physical strength.

  How did he imagine that such a display would attract her? She kept a rigid smile on her lips. She was not intimidated by his little threats. It was a matter of honour to show him that she was quite at her ease, and if that irritated him, so be it. But it was wearisome. The dance seemed to be going on for such a long time. At last the orchestra scraped the final chord, the dancers bowed and curtsied and there was Lizzie almost jumping up and down with impatience to speak to her.

  ‘I told you he was handsome,’ said Lizzie, as soon as Sarah came within earshot. Lord Percival overheard her and for the first time, the smile on his face seemed genuine. He bowed to both girls and strutted away. Sarah took Lizzie’s arm and gestured towards a bench nearby.

  ‘Why, Sarah, you are shaking.’ Lizzie looked closely at her. ‘And you have gone quite pale.’

  Sarah nodded and sank gratefully on to the bench. ‘Hateful man,’ she whispered, clenching her fists. Lizzie’s eyes were wide with curiosity but she did not say any more, she simply wafted her fan gently in front of Sarah’s face. After a moment’s seething fury, Sarah took a deep breath. Lord Percival had done nothing dreadful to her, she was simply prejudiced against him. She made a determined effort to be cheerful. ‘But you were impatient to tell me something?’

  Lizzie’s eyes sparkled. ‘Richard Thatcham dances divinely….’

  ‘And….’

  Her friend laughed. ‘And he is so witty and entertaining. He assures me he attends all the balls. So now I can count on one partner. That does help when you are a stranger in Town. And I have you to bear me company as well.’

  Sarah shook her head. ‘Not for long, I fear. My sister invited me for a month only and it is nearly time for me to return to Russeldene.’

  ‘You cannot mean that! Leave Town! But I have been so looking forward to having your company. Surely you will remain with Lady Tarrant for another week or two? Oh, Greg.’ Lizzie jumped up from the bench to stop Greg as he was passing in front of them. He turned quickly towards the two friends and looked enquiringly from one to the other. ‘Please tell Sarah she should stay in London.’

  Sarah swallowed a sudden lump in her throat. It was truly heart-warming that Lizzie cared enough to want her company, really want her. How different from Alice, trying to marry her off so she would not have to keep Sarah in her own home.

  ‘… I have only just met her again,’ Lizzie was explaining, ‘but now she says she is going home in a day or two.’

  Greg was looking embarrassed. ‘Come now, Lizzie, you know I have no authority to persuade your friend. Remember we only met for the first time today. I am sure she has good reasons for her decision.’ He directed a warm smile at Sarah.

  She found herself smiling back. Two kind friends at the same time. After the long, lonely months since her father’s death, it seemed a great luxury to Sarah. Then she realized they were both waiting for her to speak.

  ‘Indeed, I cannot stay in Town.’ She looked at Lizzie’s reproachful face. ‘My sister – there are circumstances – I do need to see what is going on at Russeldene….’ She pulled at a strand of hair above her left ear and twisted it round her finger into a corkscrew.

  Greg’s eyes were on the finger twisting the curl. When she stopped, self-conscious, he blinked, then bowed. ‘I understand perfectly, Miss Davenport.’

  The next moment Lizzie had disappeared. Greg shook his head. ‘I already know that you two have been friends for a long time so you will not think it out of place if I say that Lizzie is used to getting her own way. Both her uncle and her two brothers are her slaves.’

  Sarah smiled. ‘Yes, I do know that. And she is impulsive – and kind-hearted. But I fear I cannot oblige her in this.’

  ‘It does seem hard that you should leave so soon after her arrival. She has been away for such a long period that she has hardly anyone else to call a friend.’

  ‘She has you.’ The words were out before she could stop them.

  He looked taken aback. ‘Me? No indeed. I have been their travelling companion. It was very convenient to have their help.’ He nodded at his injured right arm. ‘Also, both General Gardiner and I were entrusted with dispatches from Wellington. My last military assignment.’ He heaved a sigh. ‘But now that job is done, I shall be leaving London tomorrow. I must go to my father.’

  Yes, thought Sarah, but even through travelling with them, he had had time to become close to Lizzie. And she knew Lizzie well. Her friend was always susceptible to handsome young men. She bit her lip. Her hand strayed again up to the silken strand of hair. She saw Greg’s eyes follow it and at once forced her hand back down to her side. She gave a little smile. ‘A foolish habit of mine, I am sorry.’

  ‘On the contrary,’ he said, ‘it is—’

  ‘Irritating?’ she suggested.

  His amber eyes glowed at her. ‘Charming,’ he said firmly. His gaze was hopeful. She clasped her hands firmly in her lap. He waited, smiling at her but suddenly Sarah’s attention was riveted on the dance floor. ‘Oh, no!’ she exclaimed softly.

  Greg turned to look. His lips pursed in a soundless whistle. Lizzie was dancing with Lord Percival. ‘Is that the same gentleman who claimed your hand for the last dance?’ he asked slowly.

  ‘Yes,’ replied Sarah in a hollow tone. ‘I suppose my sister introduced them. But—’ She checked the very imprudent remark she was about to make. She must wait and see what Lizzie’s verdict was after the dance. Beside her, Greg seemed happy to stand and wait. His eyes were on her hair, examining the feathery curls about her ears.

  Sarah looked up at him.

  But…?’ he asked, raising an eyebrow.

  She blushed. ‘Nothing.’

  ‘But you are going to leave London as soon as you can.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  He gave a tiny chuckle. ‘You sound very determined.’ He glanced at her and his expression changed. ‘I beg your pardon, this matter is distressing you, I can see.’ He grasped her hand in his own left one, raised it to his lips and pressed a kiss on it. Sarah blinked at him.

  He smiled. ‘You see, I have become quite skilful with my left hand. Miss Davenport, I wish you a safe journey. And I will see that Lizzie does not tease you about the matter any more. I am friendly with her brother, Major Jack Gardiner’ – he gave a short laugh – ‘and have learned from him how to cope with Miss Lizzie!’

  As good as his word, he intercepted her as she came tripping back towards them. Fascinated, Sarah watched as Lizzie went from pouting and sulky to smiles. He certainly knew how to handle her, thought Sarah, a little jealous. Unbidden, the thought crept into her mind that
she would like to be persuaded by him. He looked so pleasant and so … so charming!

  It was the last straw. Here was the first man she had seen who really appealed to her and he seemed more than half attached to her best friend. If they made a match of it, she would lose both of them because of the attraction she felt for Greg. Most definitely, the sooner she went back home the better for what little peace of mind she had left.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The following morning, Sarah was facing her sister over the breakfast-table in the tiny morning-room of the house in Benton Street. Her green eyes were narrowed as Alice delivered a lengthy scold on Sarah’s disobedience and foolishness.

  ‘I was mortified,’ she stated, stabbing at a chunk of ham. ‘He was coming to ask you to dance; how dared you run away? Atitle like his is not to be sneezed at! And, if you are not careful, Lizzie Gardiner will cut you out. She was quite willing to dance with him.’

  ‘I do not like Lord Percival.’

  Alice paused, her fork halfway to her mouth. ‘You do not have much choice. You need a husband and he is your only suitor.’

  ‘Are you sure he means marriage?’

  Alice stiffened with outrage. Her fork clattered onto her plate.

  ‘Of course he means marriage. You are fortunate to attract such an eligible bachelor. He is an earl, he has vast estates and he is very good-looking. Why, even I feel a flutter when I see his golden hair and his smart clothes…. Such style!’ she added, cutting up the egg on her plate and inserting a generous forkful between her lips.

  Sarah made a little grimace of distaste. She pushed her plate away, the slice of bread and butter untouched. ‘He may be good-looking, but there is something unsavoury about the man. From what I hear, his reputation is bad—’