by Anne Herries
‘I shall stay in bed until noon,’ Lady Sarah told her. ‘If you wish to go out you must do so, my dear.’
‘No, I shall be here if you need me. The Marquis of Cheadle said he would call. He wishes to speak to me, so there is no need for you to get up, ma’am. I dare say it may be something more to do with the hold-up.’
‘Yes, quite possibly—or simply the invitation to his daughter’s ball. If I am needed, I shall come down.’
Eliza assured her she would let her know if the marquis had some message for her.
Cheadle came at eleven o’clock precisely and was shown into the parlour. Eliza rose to her feet, dropping a respectful curtsy.
‘Miss Bancroft. I heard Lady Sarah was unwell last evening. Has she recovered?’
‘She is better this morning, but resting. I can take a message to her if you wish.’
‘No, my business is with you.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘Who are you, Miss Bancroft—and how well do you know Lord Seaton?’
Eliza was astonished by his questions and by the tone of his voice. She thought that he was accusing her of something.
‘Forgive me, sir. I do not see the reason for your enquiry. You know very well who I am.’
‘I know your name—but who are your parents? Where did you come from—and what are you after?’ His mouth was hard, his tone harsh. ‘If you have blackmail in mind, you should address me. Lady Sarah is too vulnerable.’
His harsh tone sent cold shivers down her spine. ‘Forgive me, I do not understand you.’
‘No? Then why is the whole of Bath whispering that you are Lady Sarah’s daughter?’
‘Oh…’ Eliza drew a deep breath. ‘I assure you I did not begin this rumour, sir.’ She hesitated, then, ‘However, I know Lady Sarah’s story…she told me of her child and the way her husband treated her so cruelly.’
‘I suggest that you knew it before you inveigled your way into her employment—that you are a schemer and planned this whole thing.’ She saw him reach for the little finger of his right hand.
‘No, sir, you mistake the matter. I assure you I knew nothing until the day you spoke to me about the hold-up and—’ She gave a cry of surprise as she saw the ring he was wearing on his little finger. ‘Your ring, sir—may I see it?’
‘What significance can my ring hold for you?’
Eliza hesitated, then, ‘Please wait one moment, sir. I have something to show you.’
She hurried from the room, rushing up the stairs to her own bedchamber, where she hunted in her drawer and then took out the ring that had lain for years in Mrs Bancroft’s sewing box. Running back down to the parlour, she held it out to him.
‘When I was a baby, the Reverend Bancroft found me in the church. He took me home and he and his wife brought me up as their own. Before she died, my adoptive mother told me about this ring, which she said she found amongst my clothes when I was given to her. It is, I think similar to your own…’ Her heart raced and for a moment she hoped that she might be about to discover the secret of her birth.
The marquis took the ring, looked at it suspiciously, his gaze narrowing. The colour left his face as he read the message inside it. She saw a flash of anger in his eyes and his voice was cold as he spoke. ‘Why should I know anything of it? It is just a ring—similar to the one I wear, I grant you, but I dare say many rings are made in this fashion. If you think to blackmail me, I must tell you that I shall not allow it. You may think that the way to reach me is through Marianne, but I make a bad enemy, Miss Bancroft.’
‘I am perfectly certain that you would, sir,’ Eliza replied, sounding calmer than she felt. ‘I would never blackmail anyone and I would certainly do nothing that might blight Lady Marianne’s chance of marrying well. It is, I am sure, mere coincidence that I was adopted. I do not claim to be Lady Sarah’s lost daughter—or yours—and I have said nothing to her. Clearly I am not her lost child—I understand that her baby was adopted in the proper fashion and that you have paid for its upkeep. My parents received nothing, and as I told you, I was found in the church.’
‘I am not sure exactly what Lady Sarah told you…’ For a moment he looked uncertain.
‘I have already said too much,’ Eliza replied proudly, raising her head. Her eyes met his unflinchingly. ‘Even if I had some claim on the man who was my natural father, I should not make it. I had hoped to shed some light on an old mystery, but I see you cannot help me.’ She held out her hand. ‘My ring, if you please.’
‘I shall keep it for the moment,’ he said. ‘Your story will be investigated, Miss Bancroft. If I discover you are in league with someone else to ruin me, or to prey on someone who is dear to me, I shall see that you end your days in prison. You will say nothing of our conversation to Lady Sarah. You would do well to leave her employ and forget your dreams of riches.’
‘You are insulting, sir.’ Eliza raised her head proudly. ‘I ask for nothing but the truth. If you know more than you reveal and are my father, please tell me and I shall not trouble you again.’
‘Spread such a rumour and you will find yourself in trouble. I am not Lady Sarah…’
The marquis turned and walked from the room, leaving Eliza to stare after him with tears in her eyes. He had made his feelings very clear. He thought her a scheming adventuress. His reaction to her ring was so violent that she was certain he had recognised it. His anger and allusions to blackmail seemed to indicate that he had a guilty secret to hide. He had advised her to leave Lady Sarah’s employ—why? Was it possible after all that she was their lovechild?
No, no, how could that be? The circumstances were similar, but not the same. Lady Sarah’s child had been adopted—Eliza had been found in a church. Yet the sight of her ring had undoubtedly affected the marquis. He had refused to return it to her—why? Was he afraid that she would show it to Lady Sarah?
Eliza’s thoughts were in turmoil, for she did not know what to believe. The marquis was clearly guilty about something—but what? If he was her father, he was not prepared to admit it.
He had told her that she would be wise to leave her employment. He had threatened her with exposure and imprisonment, but she had done nothing, made no claim on him or Lady Sarah.
Eliza’s eyes felt heavy with tears. How could she stay here now?
Refusing to give into her emotions, Eliza went up the stairs to Lady Sarah’s room. At the first opportunity she would find an excuse to leave, but not until she was sure the woman she had come to love as a second mother was quite well.
Lady Sarah was sitting up in bed when she entered with a writing board in front of her. ‘Has the marquis gone?’
‘Yes. It was just more questions, ma’am. Nothing important.’
‘I thought it could not be.’ Lady Sarah smiled. ‘I am feeling much better. I shall get up now and come down. I think I shall rest quietly at home this afternoon, but I should be grateful if you would go to the library for me and pick up one or two packages. You might wish to do some shopping for yourself.’
‘I do need some shoes,’ Eliza said. ‘I may look and see what I can find.’
‘It occurs to me that I have not yet given you your wages, Eliza. Please look in the top drawer of the dressing chest and bring me the box you will find there.’
‘You have already given me so much,’ Eliza protested. ‘I consider myself well paid for what little I do.’
‘Nonsense. The clothes are my gift to you.’
Eliza fetched the box and Lady Sarah took out three gold guineas, handing them to her.
‘I am sure it should only be two guineas, ma’am.’
‘That was when I did not know you. I want you to be happy with me, Eliza, and you need money to buy the things necessary for your stay here. Please run along now, my dear. I shall summon my maid in a few moments.’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
Eliza’s heart ached. She wished now that she had shown the ring to Lady Sarah. She was certain her employer would have been honest with her either way and she wo
uld not now be in this turmoil.
After leaving Lady Sarah to rest, Eliza picked up the parcel of books and went out. As she left the house, she noticed a man standing on the other side of the road. He seemed to be staring at the windows, but as he saw her, he turned away. She frowned, but decided that he was merely loitering.
She returned the books to the lending library, picked up some medicine for Lady Sarah, and visited a shop selling good quality shoes, buying a pair of smart boots with shiny buttons that would replace her old ones for walking out. As she left the shop and turned to her right, she saw a group of ladies and gentlemen approaching.
‘Miss Bancroft,’ she was addressed by Susanne Roberts. ‘Have you been shopping?’
‘Good afternoon, Miss Roberts. Yes, I have been buying some shoes.’
‘You will be able to buy whatever you need now, I suppose,’ the girl said with a sneer on her lips. ‘How fortunate for you to be taken up by Lady Sarah. She treats you almost as a daughter, does she not?’
The words were accompanied by a snigger that made Eliza’s blood run cold. She saw the spiteful look that accompanied the comment and knew that the other girl disliked her very much. Perhaps she blamed her because Lord Seaton had not come up to scratch?
‘I am indeed fortunate in my employer,’ Eliza replied with dignity. ‘Excuse me, I must get home.’
‘It would not do to keep your…benefactor waiting. You might lose a fortune…’
Eliza’s face was hot, but she refused to be drawn by the girl’s spiteful words. ‘Miss Roberts, I wish you good day.’
She walked on by, her head held high. Inside, she was seething with anger, but she was glad that she had not let herself reply unwisely. She was unaware that one of Miss Roberts’s party had broken away and was following her until the man came up with her.
‘That was uncalled for,’ he said as he drew level. ‘I hope you will not think that everyone in Bath is so unkind, Miss Bancroft.’
‘Miss Roberts may be feeling a little out of sorts. I dare say she did not mean to be so…rude.’
‘Oh, I think she did. She was expecting Lord Seaton to propose until you arrived. I imagine her pride has received a setback.’
‘It is not for us to speculate on Miss Roberts’s hopes and dreams, Mr Carstairs. Please excuse me, I must get home.’
He placed a hand on her arm, detaining her. ‘No need to get on your high horse, Miss Bancroft. I was just trying to be friendly.’
‘Thank you, but I am in a hurry.’
She pulled away from him, and saw his quick frown. ‘You may inherit Lady Sarah’s money when she dies, but Seaton may not be as wealthy as you think…’
Eliza pretended not to hear as she walked on quickly. If this was what she could expect from Bath society, she would be glad to leave. Her eyes stung, but she would not give way to tears of self-pity. It made her cringe to imagine what people were saying of her. Perhaps not everyone was as spiteful as Miss Roberts, but they must all be thinking the same thing.
Feeling upset, Eliza did not notice the man following her.
Her thoughts were distressing, going round and round in her mind as she walked home, her shadow staying just a short distance behind her. Did everyone imagine that she was a designing hussy after Lady Sarah’s fortune? She knew the marquis imagined her to be an adventuress. Even Daniel had seemed angered by the rumours. Surely he could not think her so mercenary?
It was a lowering thought and one that upset her far more than Miss Roberts’s spiteful words. She wished he was here in Bath with her, instead of away with his friend Hastings. He was perhaps the one person in Bath she could tell about the ring the marquis had taken from her.
Their business with the horses was soon done. Daniel had advised his friend to buy the best three mares, a fine stallion with devil eyes and a wicked temper, and a thoroughbred he believed had potential on the racecourse.
‘The chestnut has potential,’ Daniel said. ‘It is Irish bred, and though you must take what the seller told you with a pinch of salt, I believe you could have a race winner.’
‘The fellow swore it was faster than the wind,’ Jack said and laughed. ‘I shall probably find it is as sluggish as they come and a complete dud, but the mares and that stallion should be good stock.’
‘I will wager that the chestnut wins the first race you enter it in at Newmarket.’
‘I’ll take you up on that,’ Jack seized the challenge instantly. ‘A hundred guineas it comes last.’
‘I’ll wager a thousand that it wins.’ Daniel grinned at him. ‘Put a thousand guineas on it to win for me and I’ll pay you from my winnings.’
‘You are on,’ Jack said and clapped him on the shoulder. ‘I suppose I must turn my mind to other matters now. I danced with Marianne Cheadle the other evening. I swear she is the only girl for me, Daniel. Mother has picked out two other pretty girls she thinks suitable, but I cannot think of anyone but Marianne.’
‘I believe her family expect an offer from Accrington,’ Daniel said. ‘If I felt as you do, Jack, I should ask her as soon as we return to Bath. If you leave it, you may be too late.’
‘Supposing she turns me down?’
‘At least you will know the truth. There is no sense in mooning after her, man. Ask her and be done with it.’
‘Yes, you are right,’ Jack said and laughed. ‘Nothing ventured, nothing gained. What do I owe you for your advice—about the horses?’
‘Nothing at all. I hope it was sound—and that the chestnut is what I suspect.’
‘Well, we’ll soon know. I’ll send the horse down to Newmarket with my trainer and we’ll give it a try.’
‘Do not forget to put that thousand guineas on for me.’
Daniel knew the bet was reckless, but he could cover the bet by the sale of some heirlooms if necessary, jewels left him by his grandmother and deposited in the bank. The remainder of his debts were more difficult. He was beginning to feel that he would have to sell the estate before everything was lost. He supposed that he might buy himself some colours and make his life in the army. He had found it suited him when he served with Wellington, but an army life might not suit Eliza.
He had been toying with the idea of making her an offer. The rumours flying round Bath must have made her position difficult; he had been angry when he discovered what the malicious tongues were saying, especially when he had seen the distinct likeness between her and Marianne Cheadle.
Had Cheadle seen it—and what would he do about it? Daniel was certain the marquis would never acknowledge the relationship. The mystery of Eliza’s birth mother remained.
Was it possible that she was Lady Sarah’s daughter? He had thought it just a rumour, but for once the gossips might have it right.
Perhaps he ought to bring this business of his cousin’s death to a conclusion before he spoke to Eliza. If Marcus had been murdered, the man responsible would not like Daniel’s agent poking about—and his own life could be in danger. It would be best to exercise caution for the moment, because he did not wish to endanger Eliza’s life.
The thought chilled him. Until this moment he had not considered that his investigations could endanger anyone but himself. He would need to keep his wits about him—and he certainly could not risk speaking to Eliza for the moment. He must continue as her friend, but nothing more.
Chapter Seven
‘Are you certain you feel able to attend Marianne Cheadle’s ball this evening?’ Eliza asked some days after the unpleasant interview with the marquis. ‘I should be quite happy to stay at home and read a book if you are in the least tired.’
‘What foolishness is this?’ Lady Sarah smiled at her as they parted to change their gowns. ‘You should wear your new yellow gown this evening, Eliza. I am pleased that madame managed to get it ready in time. You have worn the white twice to the assembly and it is right that you should have a new one for your first private ball.’
‘You are so generous,’ Eliza felt her throat tighte
n with unshed tears, but she smiled through them. She had felt more and more emotional these past few days, because she could not help noticing that Lady Sarah seemed frailer than she had at first.
‘I like you to look well,’ Lady Sarah said and patted her arm. ‘If I found my daughter, I should hope that she was as caring and kind as you, Eliza.’
Eliza had to blink back her tears. She must control her emotions and her tears. She longed to tell her employer that she had grown very fond of her, but the marquis would disapprove if he saw any sign that their relationship had grown closer.
Her situation was difficult, but she was determined to put on a brave face. It was important that nothing should distress Lady Sarah. Eliza would bear anything but being a cause of harm to the woman she now thought of as her true mother.
They were greeted by Lady Cheadle and Marianne when they arrived at the ball. The marquis was talking with other guests and did not immediately notice them, but Marianne was friendly.
‘I am so glad to see you, Miss Bancroft,’ she said. ‘I shall hope to have time for a few words in private later.’
Eliza thanked her and moved on into the first reception room. Catching sight of the marquis at that moment, Eliza saw him frown at her and shivered. She sensed that he was angry because she had not taken his advice to leave Bath.
She had shown him her ring on impulse, but now regretted not keeping it hidden. She had been happy with Lady Sarah and in her heart she knew that the chances of finding her mother had always been slim. It would have been better not to quarrel with the marquis.
Ignoring his angry look, Eliza made her way towards where Lady Julia and Kate were standing, talking to some other friends. They greeted her warmly and Kate took her arm, drawing her towards the ballroom. Almost immediately, both girls were besieged by gentlemen asking for dances. It was clear that the rumours flying around Bath had not harmed Eliza’s reputation as far as the gentlemen were concerned. Indeed, one or two of them were if anything more attentive to her. She was determined to enjoy herself, putting the knowledge of the marquis’s displeasure to the back of her mind.