The Earl's Prize (Harlequin Historical)

by Nicola Cornick

  ‘No, but I knew that she was thick with Amy Bainbridge and that Miss Bainbridge did have the money.’ Juliana looked up and gave her brother a glimmer of a smile. ‘I suppose I should have guessed that Miss Bainbridge would come to you, Joss, but I underestimated two things: the fact that she trusted you and the fact that you loved her. If anyone had asked me I would never have imagined it, not in a thousand years! I do not believe that I know my own brother well at all…’

  Joss smiled and moved away. ‘You know me well enough. I will give you your twenty thousand pounds in return for Lady Spry’s letters—all of them, Ju.’ There was a warning note in his voice. ‘And I will wish you godspeed and say that no matter what happens I shall always want to see you again—’

  ‘Enough!’ Lady Juliana had regained some of her brittle composure and stepped away from him. The malicious gleam was back in her green eyes. ‘You grow maudlin, Joss! If this is the effect that love has had on you I shudder to think what a doting husband you will make and I am glad I shall not be here to see it! Now, I will fetch the letters and I shall be obliged if I may draw on your bank…’ She wafted towards the door. ‘You are too good to me, my dear. It is a shame that you have been unfairly damned as the black sheep of the family, but I fear that when my latest exploits are known I shall inherit that role. I shall hope to bear it with fortitude.’

  It was mid-morning of the following day when Joss reached Curzon Street and the rain of the previous night had gone, blown away by a fresh breeze. It felt like a day for new beginnings.

  As Patience let him in to the house, he became aware of a certain tension in the atmosphere. The sound of Lady Bainbridge’s voice came to him from behind the parlour door, rising and falling like a peal of bells.

  ‘It is all very well for you to say that, Richard, but we were supposed to remove to Nettlecombe today and now that Amy is missing—’

  Joss quickened his step. For a split second he had the most dreadful conviction that Amy had fled to the country because she regretted the events of the previous night. She did not want to marry him—she would never want to do so. She would never even want to see him again…He shook his head to dispel the images, remembering a little grimly that he had once told Amy that his family history was bound to make him wary of marriage. What he had failed to grasp, he thought now, was how inextricably his happiness had become bound up in Amy. She could break his heart so easily, but he had to have the faith that she would never do so. It seemed a monstrously difficult lesson to learn and he had only just started.

  Lady Bainbridge, Richard and Amanda Spry were assembled in the parlour and the addition of another person made the room seem rather small. Richard was lounging by the window and looking irritated, Amanda was sitting with her hands clenched in her lap and looked very pale and Lady Bainbridge, her hair in drooping ringlets, her face creased with worry, was waving a piece of paper in her hand.

  ‘She says in her note that she has had to travel to the country unexpectedly and will meet us at Nettlecombe this evening!’

  ‘There you are then, Mama!’ Richard said heartily. ‘There is no mystery—’ He broke off as he saw Joss and a look of relief crossed his face, though whether it was for the distraction or because he thought the newcomer might help Joss was not sure.

  ‘Good morning, Joss! Perhaps you might be able to shed some light on this as you’ve been seeing a lot of Amy recently—’ Richard broke off again, evidently aware of his infelicitous choice of words and his mother’s frown. Joss came forward and bowed over Lady Bainbridge’s hand, smoothing her ruffled temper with his most charming smile.

  ‘Good morning, ma’am. Lady Spry…’ He bowed to Amanda before straightening up and turning to his host. ‘Do I understand that Miss Bainbridge is from home?’

  ‘She has gone to Oxfordshire,’ Lady Bainbridge wailed, brandishing the note, ‘and she has travelled post! Post! It is so much more expensive!’

  ‘Come now, Mama,’ Richard said, with an apologetic look at Joss, ‘you know you would prefer Amy not to travel alone on the common stage.’

  ‘No,’ Lady Bainbridge conceded, ‘but I do not understand why she must go jauntering off in this manner at all!’

  Joss caught Amanda’s eye. It was clear that Lady Spry suspected that Amy had gone off on some errand connected with the blackmailer, but that she did not dare disclose her suspicions. If Amy had arrived back in Curzon Street too late to see her friend and had set off that morning whilst it was still early, Amanda might even now be labouring under the belief that the blackmailer was still at large. Joss gave her a reassuring smile.

  ‘Before I forget, Lady Spry, I was commissioned to give this to you by Miss Bainbridge.’ He passed her an anonymous brown parcel. ‘Something that she has…procured for you, I believe. You will find that it is all there. I am to tell you that there was no charge.’

  The colour flooded into Amanda’s cheeks, changing her from tense and strained to pretty and animated once again. ‘Oh! Thank you, sir!’

  ‘A pleasure, Lady Spry.’ Joss bowed and turned away. ‘Lady Bainbridge, I beg you not to worry. I believe that Miss Bainbridge may have gone to Ashby Tallant to see my father. Would you like me to find her for you?’

  Richard and Lady Bainbridge exchanged a look. ‘To see your father?’ Lady Bainbridge echoed faintly. ‘But Amy does not even know the Marquis!’

  ‘I feel sure it is an omission she is about to remedy,’ Joss said, a little grimly. ‘We had a conversation yesterday that leads me to suspect that Miss Bainbridge would wish to speak with him urgently. With your permission, I will ride to Ashby Tallant and find out for myself. Then I can escort Miss Bainbridge to Nettlecombe once the matter is settled.’

  Lady Bainbridge looked understandably perplexed. ‘Well, if you are certain, my lord…’

  ‘Of course, ma’am.’ Joss turned to Richard. ‘You are in agreement?’

  Richard was looking relieved. ‘Of course, old fellow! Only surprised that you want to be bothered! Still, it saves me trouble. I’m already late for a game at the Cocoa Tree—’ He caught his mother’s admonishing look and broke off.

  ‘If I might delay you a little longer,’ Joss said smoothly, a twinkle in his eye, ‘there is something rather particular I wished to ask you. It might also explain why I…er…would be bothering to follow Miss Bainbridge…’

  He saw the light dawn in Richard’s eye, heard Amanda catch her breath, and allowed himself a grin.

  As Richard ushered him out of the room, Joss heard Amanda turn to Lady Bainbridge with the excitement vivid in her voice:

  ‘Oh, Lady Bainbridge, is it not wonderful! Amy is to be a Countess!’

  ‘Well, dear,’ his future mother-in-law said, ‘one should not refine too much upon these things, but it is more than I had ever expected for Amy! And it will be so much cheaper to have her off my hands at last!’

  Richard closed the door very firmly and turned to Joss, offering his hand.

  ‘Welcome to the family,’ he said.

  Amy had been impressed by her first view of Ashby Tallant. The lime avenue was very fine and the frontage of the house, red brick with a great hall and a tower at one end, was most imposing. Even in his most prosperous times, Sir George Bainbridge had never possessed a house like it and Nettlecombe, the only remaining Bainbridge property, was on a considerably smaller scale. Nevertheless, Ashby Tallant did not appear to Amy as a comfortable family home.

  The liveried servant who answered the door informed her that the Marquis was out in the gardens but that if Miss Bainbridge would not mind waiting, someone would be sent to fetch him at once. She was escorted into a drawing room decorated in blue and faded gold. It was cold and dusty and Amy, perching on the edge of one of the hard chairs, felt a little over-awed as the chill seeped into her bones.

  The house was quiet as the grave and the long wait gave her plenty of time to think. When Joss had confirmed the story that Amanda had told her, her first and overwhelming reaction had been fury—f
ury that Joss had taken all the blame for Lady Juliana’s misdeeds and that the Marquis was so cold and censorious a character that he had never forgiven his son. The long journey from London had given her time to try to compose herself and she had admitted to herself that it was her love for Joss that had prompted such furious indignation. She could not bear to see him hurt any more and that alone obliged her to tell the Marquis the truth. She had no notion what her reception might be or whether it would make any difference at all, but she felt she had to try. At the back of her mind was also the thought that Joss would probably be quite angry with her for interfering, but she refused to think about that. Her stomach rumbled with hunger—it was past the hour for luncheon—and she could not repress a sneeze.

  The door opened.

  ‘His lordship will see you now, Miss Bainbridge,’ the footman intoned.

  The hall was a vast affair of white stone and dark wood, and on the other side of it the footman opened a door and stepped aside for her to enter.

  ‘Miss Bainbridge, my lord.’

  The Marquis of Tallant was standing before the huge fireplace, leaning heavily on a gold-topped cane. Amy had been uncertain what to expect but now the sight of the Marquis surprised her; he was stooped and his face was pulled with pain and his hair was white, but his eyes were the same amber as those of his son, and burned with the same fierce light.

  ‘Miss Bainbridge,’ he said, and his voice was beautiful, smooth as polished leather, ‘this is a great honour.’

  ‘I fear it is a great intrusion, my lord,’ Amy said, suddenly feeling the whole weight of the Marquis’s age and authority, and wondering how she would ever have the courage to blurt out her tale. ‘I must thank you for seeing me.’

  The Marquis gestured her to a chair. ‘No imposition, Miss Bainbridge. We have never met, but I do believe that I knew your father once. Your family has property over Nettlecombe way, I believe? You have a great look of George Bainbridge about you.’

  ‘Do I?’ Amy was so startled that she was distracted from the purpose of the visit for a moment. No one had ever likened her to her father. Richard, with his glowing fair looks and blue eyes had always been the obvious comparison.

  ‘You have his spirit,’ the Marquis said, on a sigh. ‘I see it in your eyes. Would you care for some refreshment, Miss Bainbridge? I suspect that you have travelled a long way.’

  Amy was tempted. ‘Well, I confess I am a little sharp set, my lord. I left London very early and I was not sure how long the journey would take…’

  ‘It must have been urgent, then,’ the Marquis said. He gave the bell pull a sharp tug.

  ‘Ah, Watson, a tray of food for Miss Bainbridge and…some wine?’

  ‘Just a little, if you please,’ Amy said, blushing. ‘I am not accustomed to strong drink.’

  ‘A small glass,’ the Marquis instructed, ‘and some canary for me.’

  There was a short silence after the servant had left the room. Amy was aware that she should state her business and even more conscious that if she did so and the Marquis took exception to her words, she would be out of the house without any time for refreshment at all. She bit her lip as she tried to think of the best way to broach the subject. The Marquis, who had been watching her expressive little face, limped across to the other armchair and eased himself down.

  ‘Take your time, my dear. I always say that there is no point in rushing an important matter.’

  Amy gave him an agonised look. ‘Oh, my lord, it is simply that I am fearful of what you will think.’

  ‘Then do not be. I doubt that I could think badly of you and I shall certainly not turn you off before you have had your wine!’

  Amy stifled a laugh. ‘My lord, you say that now—’

  ‘Allow me to help you to overcome your scruples,’ the Marquis said. ‘Does this matter concern my son, perhaps?’

  Amy stared. ‘Why, yes, but…how did you know?’

  The question was not to be answered for a moment, for the footman reappeared with a tray laden with bread, cheeses, honey, ham and fruit for Amy and a glass and bottle of canary for the Marquis. By the time that everything was served and Amy had obeyed the Marquis’s instruction to eat, the barriers had been broken down further.

  ‘It is always a mistake to tackle high emotion on an empty stomach,’ the Marquis said, watching with amusement as Amy attacked the food with enthusiasm. ‘I always feel that food gives one an appropriate sense of proportion.’ He took a sip of canary. ‘As to how I knew—well, I cannot go to London much these days—confounded ill health, you know—but there are those who keep me informed and they told me that my son had recently abandoned his usual pursuits in favour of spending time with a certain young lady of…impeccable quality. You, my dear. I confess that I was delighted to hear it.’

  Amy looked up and blushed. ‘Oh, well, yes, but it was not as you might suppose.’

  The Marquis raised an ironic eyebrow. ‘Indeed? I had thought that perhaps Joss had taken to heart my strictures about taking a wife…’

  Amy blushed harder. ‘Yes…well, no! You see, Lord Tallant only spent time with me because his sister made a bet…Oh dear, this is difficult…I had not intended to tell you so much…’

  The Marquis’s sardonic smile melted into one of genuine charm. ‘My dear Miss Bainbridge, why do you not simply tell me the whole? You will probably find it easier to come to the point if you tell the whole tale from beginning to end.’

  ‘Yes, my lord.’ Amy was also beginning to realise that it would not be possible to tell half a story. Nor did she wish to. The Marquis was so very different from the image that she had in her mind that she was certain he would charm the truth from her by one means or another. He was just like his son.

  ‘Before I begin, my lord,’ she said impulsively, ‘I wish you to know that I am aware of the…the lack of sympathy that there has been between you and your son.’ She saw that he was looking at her inscrutably and hurried on. ‘Oh, I know that this is none of my business and that in speaking thus I am guilty of the greatest impertinence, but I had to tell you! What I will relate must surely make you see that you are mistaken in Lord Tallant and that he is—essentially noble!’

  The Marquis raised his eyebrows. ‘Noble? I might say that you are coming it a bit strong, Miss Bainbridge, but I fear you would call me out! Your tale will speak for itself, I am sure. As for my opinion of you, nothing can alter the esteem in which I hold you.’

  Amy smiled tremulously. She was not clear how the Marquis had come to have such a good opinion of her in such a short time, but she was fearful that she might lose it soon. Nevertheless, the story had to be told. She suspected that she might have given away something of her feelings for Joss in her last impassioned outburst, but that appeared to in no way have impaired his father’s view of her. Maybe that was the key to his approval—he was so pleased that his son had apparently attached himself to a respectable female that he was willing to give her a certain latitude. On that thought she took her courage in both hands and plunged in.

  She left nothing out. She told the Marquis how she had first met Joss at the house in Curzon Street, how she had won the lottery, how Joss had accepted Juliana’s debt and spent the week doing good deeds. When she related that he had escorted her to the concert given by the children’s charity choir and had gone to visit the St Boniface orphanage with her, the Marquis was overcome with a fit of coughing and Amy was afraid that he might choke.

  ‘I can only assume that my son holds you in even higher esteem than I do, Miss Bainbridge!’ the Marquis said, when he had regained his breath.

  Amy saw the twinkle of humour in his eye and it disconcerted her. She hurried on to relate how Joss had given her his help in dealing with the blackmailer, omitting nothing but Amanda and the blackmailer’s identity. Finally she reached the story of what had happened when Joss had saved Juliana seven years before, and at last she saw the Marquis become very tense and still, and he did not speak until she had finished.
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  When she had finally run out of words there was a long silence in the room. Amy felt exhausted and her heart was racing, but she also felt a tremendous relief that she had done what justice demanded. Her only remaining concern was the effect upon the Marquis. He seemed to have shrunk in his chair, turned in upon himself, shrivelled and aged. Impulsively she left her own seat and went across to kneel by his.

  ‘I am sorry, my lord, so sorry to have had to shock you like this, but I thought that the truth must be told—’

  ‘You did the right thing, Miss Bainbridge.’ The Marquis’s voice was no longer smooth but scarred and old. ‘My only doubt is how I could have not realised this sooner. Oh, Joss was as wild as any other when he was young, but he had never given me serious cause for alarm. He gambled a little and I suppose there were women, but…’ he sighed ‘…he was never excessive in his behaviour. Never before. But then this happened and his excesses bordered on madness and I felt him slipping away from me, and I could not get him back.’ His voice faded, then strengthened. ‘Truth to tell, I did not try. I was so angry and disgusted by his behaviour and every new outrage seemed to confirm my initial disappointment—that he had gambled away eighty thousand pounds, brought disgrace upon us and almost ruined the family in the process!’

  Amy put her hand on his. ‘My lord, do not distress yourself—’

  ‘As for Juliana,’ the Marquis said, ‘there I failed even more badly.’ His tone was bleak. ‘I could never love the chit in the same way as I loved Joss, for I knew she was not mine. Yet that was not her fault—it should not have mattered. I should not have let it matter!’

  Amy closed her eyes to stop the tears squeezing from beneath her lids. She had had no very high opinion of Juliana before and, even when Joss had spoken for her, Amy could find little sympathy in her heart. Nevertheless she could understand the bond between Joss and his sister—and understand the Marquis’s agony.

  ‘It is never too late,’ she said quietly.