Scandal and Miss Markham (The Beauchamp Betrothals)

by Janice Preston

  As for females who were not members of the Beauchamp family, neither could he recall any of them being so...contrary. Although—and this seemed to be a morning for self-doubt—his renown as a ladies’ man could simply be due to his position. Many ladies were eager to impress a wealthy, titled gentleman who was considered a great catch.

  He snorted at that last thought. He could never accuse Thea of trying to impress him...she appeared oblivious to his charms. Although, and a slow smile curved his lips at the memory, she was certainly not impervious to his chest. Or to his touch as he trimmed her hair.

  The trouble was—he was not impervious either.

  He thrust aside the sheet that covered him and swung his legs to the floor. All this thinking was getting him nowhere. He was not second in command now...it was time to get on with finding Daniel Markham.

  He washed in the warm water in a jug on his washstand—water he could not remember being delivered to his room and, after dressing, he knocked on the door to the inner chamber. There was no answer and he popped his head into the room to find Thea gone. Unable to quash the terror that jolted him—an after-effect of the night’s dreams, his rational mind insisted—he hurried downstairs and there she was, bright-eyed and glowing, clad in her boy’s clothes, waiting impatiently for him to appear and eager to continue their journey.

  She was altogether too chirpy for Vernon’s aching head.

  ‘You are too accustomed to town hours,’ she said, teasingly. ‘You were sound asleep when I came through your room.’

  And the thought of her seeing him sleeping in his bed set his senses all a-jangling, discordant and sharp. And now...he watched Thea from under lowered brows and through bleary eyes as she tucked into another round of buttered toast and sipped from her cup of chocolate.

  Nothing wrong with her appetite this morning.

  And another thought followed on its heels: he’d expected her to still be annoyed about seeing him with Janey, but it clearly wasn’t bothering her in the slightest.

  Which was good. Was it not?

  ‘How is your che...your injury this morning,’ Thea asked. ‘You look as though it is causing you pain.’

  ‘My chest?’

  The light blush that painted her cheeks cheered him somewhat, proving she wasn’t totally indifferent to him. Not that he was interested in her, of course.

  ‘It is not my chest that pains me, but my head.’

  And the minute he uttered those words he knew his error. The tinge of sympathy he had recognised in those hazel orbs vanished and she immediately became more businesslike.

  ‘Did you discover anything new last night?’

  Vernon swallowed his mouthful of eggs and then told her what he had learned from the groom and from Janey. Thea’s eyes widened when he told her what Janey had said. As soon as he finished, Thea jumped to her feet, the scrape of her chair setting Vernon’s teeth on edge.

  ‘What are we waiting for? Come...’ she was already halfway to the door. The woman really was like a lick of flame, darting around so a man could barely keep track of her ‘...we must make haste.’

  ‘Stop!’

  Vernon winced at the loudness of his own voice as it echoed through his head. How much had he drunk last night? He hadn’t thought he was over-imbibing, but maybe the local ale was stronger than his customary brew. Thea paused with her hand on the door handle, her tawny brows raised.

  ‘I need to speak to the constable first, to find out if they caught those two ruffians from last night.’

  Thea waved a dismissive hand. ‘They are not important. We must—’

  ‘Of course they are important. You heard the constable, there have been other attacks. Who knows, they might even have attacked Daniel and left him lying somewhere, or knocked him on the head so he has forgotten his own identity. They might have important information. We need to know one way or the other before we go rushing off to Birmingham.’

  ‘That is true. Let us go.’

  The wretched woman was almost bouncing with enthusiasm, those preposterous curls of hers springing around her ears. In these unguarded moments, despite her attire, it was impossible to see her as a youth. She looked young and feminine and...a little adorable. Vernon tore his gaze from her and eyed his plate of congealing eggs. He pushed it away.

  ‘First,’ he said, as repressively as he could, his temples still pounding, ‘we need to talk.’

  She stilled. ‘You are going to renege on your promise.’

  ‘Promise? I do not recall promising you anything. You, on the other hand, did promise you would remain at home.’

  ‘I did not.’ She dragged out her chair again and sat down. ‘I was most careful about my wording. I said, “I shall not insist on leaving with you.” And I did not. I followed you.’ She folded her arms across her chest and her chin jutted forward. ‘I will not go home.’

  Vernon sighed and pushed his chair back from the table. He leaned back in his chair and stretched his legs out, crossing them at the ankle as he crossed his own arms.

  ‘I have told you what the maid said: Daniel was fuming when he saw Henry and he was determined to track him down. Quite what poor Henry can have done to attract such ire I do not know, but you have to admit this is not a dispute for a woman to become embroiled in.’

  ‘Poor Henry? It sounds very much as though I made the right decision to follow you. I can see whose side you would be on.’

  ‘Side? Who is talking of sides? All I am interested in is finding the truth. And it will be easier and quicker if I do not have to be constantly worrying about you.’

  Thea stuck her nose in the air and averted her face. ‘I do not need anyone to worry about me. I shall look after myself. As I did last night and again this morning whilst you were snoring your head off.’

  ‘I do not snore.’

  ‘How do you know? You were asleep.’

  He closed his eyes and drew in a long, steadying breath. ‘The fact still remains that you are at risk.’

  ‘Vernon...’

  He felt her breath on his cheek. Smelled the roses. He opened his eyes. Thea was bending over him, her eyes boring into his.

  ‘...I suggest you save your breath for the questions we need to ask,’ she said sweetly. ‘I am going to Birmingham, to the Royal Hotel. Whether that is by your side or riding three lengths behind is up to you.’

  She straightened, her expression one of smug satisfaction.

  ‘And if I do not go to Birmingham? If I return to Stourwell Court for my curricle and pair and then go back to London?’

  He knew what her answer would be, but honour dictated he should not concede without some fight.

  She arched one brow. ‘Then I must go alone.’

  Hell and damnation!

  He knew when he was beaten. He stood, and gestured to the door. ‘In that case there is nothing more I can say. But do not come weeping to me if you get killed.’

  She beamed. Positively beamed at him. Wretched, wretched woman!

  * * *

  The constable called upon them at the Bell just as they were leaving, with bad news.

  ‘We found neither sight nor sound of your attackers, sir,’ he told Vernon. ‘And you were right. It weren’t them gipsies. They’d moved on and Farmer Whitton, he told us they left yesterday morning, so it couldn’t have been them that tried to rob you.’

  The constable sounded disappointed. Thea hoped he’d remember this lesson the next time he was quick to point the finger of blame at the gipsies. They were a familiar sight in and around the Stourbridge area. They came and they went, and the men carried out odd jobs and repairs and helped on the farms at harvest times, whilst the women sold pegs and told fortunes for anyone prepared to pay them a penny or two. She did not believe they would attack someone unprovoked.

  T
hey set off towards Birmingham in silence, Vernon’s scowl an effective barrier to conversation. Eventually, however, his puckered forehead smoothed and his grouchy mood appeared to lift as he showed more interest in the countryside they rode through.

  ‘I feared you had the beginnings of a fever from your wound,’ Thea said, after Vernon had commented on the cascading song of a skylark that hovered overhead—a barely visible speck in the deep azure of the sky. ‘We do not have the time for you to be laid up in bed.’

  He raised a brow. ‘You are all heart, Dotty.’

  ‘Well, of course I did not mean I should not care if you became ill,’ she said crossly. ‘I only meant that...well, as I said—there is no time.’

  He laughed, then tipped his head up and breathed in, his chest swelling. ‘The fresh air has made all the difference. I woke up with the headache. It is all but gone now.’

  Thea had tried hard not to dwell on his likely activities after she had seen him with that maid last night. It had been a shock to see him pressing money on the girl and Thea had climbed the stairs with her heart weighed down with disapproval and...yes...disappointment. Now, knowing that he had been paying the maid for information left her feeling in a charitable mood and so she forbore to point out that the pain he suffered—in his head, at least—was self-inflicted and therefore barely deserving of sympathy. She glanced up at the sky...not a cloud in sight and the sun already high and hot. She tugged at her cap, pulling the peak to shade her face.

  ‘It is fortunate the weather has improved,’ she said. ‘We had thunderstorms three days running last week—the air was so thick and heavy your headache would not have cleared so readily.’

  ‘Fortunate indeed,’ he agreed.

  She felt his eyes upon her and kept her attention on the road ahead, sensing he had questions on his mind. She did not have long to wait.

  ‘Do you mind me asking...why are you not married?’

  Star skittered slightly as Thea tensed. She relaxed her fingers on the reins and the mare settled again. He had taken her by surprise, asking such a very personal question. She shrugged, aiming for nonchalance.

  ‘It takes two to make a marriage. Why are you not married? I assume you are not?’

  ‘No. I am not married. I doubt I shall ever marry.’

  ‘How can you be so sure?’ Yet, even as that question left her lips she realised it was possible to be sure...she was sure, after all.

  ‘I have no need to wed. And I enjoy my life too much to ever get tied down to one woman.’

  ‘Then it sounds as though you have made the right decision,’ Thea said.

  ‘You have not really answered my question.’

  ‘I was betrothed. Once.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘We decided we would not suit.’

  Not for anything would she admit the reality: being left heartbroken at the altar whilst her parents’ main concern had been about the money Papa had given to Jasper to invest on his behalf.

  ‘And no one since?’

  ‘Would you ask such questions of a lady from your own world?’

  There was a brief silence. ‘No,’ he said, finally. ‘No, I would not. But that does not imply a lack of respect. It is perhaps a result of the unusual circumstances in which we find ourselves.’

  ‘I see. In that case...no, there has been no one since. I am not interested in marrying.’

  ‘We are two of a kind,’ he said with a laugh.

  She glanced at him, tall and elegant in the saddle, every inch the gentleman despite the less than fashionable cut of his clothes.

  ‘Hardly,’ she said, with an answering grin. ‘You are the son of a duke. I am the daughter of a glass manufacturer. We are far removed from one another in almost every way you may imagine.’

  Lulled by warm weather, by the roll and sway of Star’s back and by the rhythmic thud of the horses’ hooves on the road, Thea found it easy to relax and chat, without paying much attention to what she was saying and before very long they were riding into Temple Row where the Royal Hotel stood opposite St Philip’s Church and churchyard.

  Thea’s stomach churned as she perused the simple but elegant hotel, four storeys high, with a central portico. Did this building hide the secret of what had happened to her brother? That maid had said Daniel discovered a hotel where Henry Mannington stayed and Thea was certain this was it. And she had no doubt in her mind that Henry Mannington was responsible for Daniel’s disappearance.

  She and Vernon had already agreed to reserve rooms for that night, to give them time to question the staff about Daniel and about Henry Mannington. They halted next to a side gateway that led to the stable yard behind the hotel, and Thea jumped to the ground as an ostler hurried out to take charge of the horses. Vernon dismounted in a more leisurely fashion, perusing their surroundings: the church in its spacious churchyard in the middle of a large square surrounded by smart town houses and a school on one corner. Taking stock, Thea thought.

  ‘Have our bags taken inside,’ Vernon said to the ostler as he led the horses away.

  ‘Yessir.’

  ‘Should we not question him about Bullet?’ Thea hissed.

  ‘There is no need. Not yet.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘We already know Daniel has been here, so we need no confirmation that Bullet was in the stables. I shall talk to the grooms later, when they are not as busy.’

  And with that, Vernon turned on his heel and began to walk away from the hotel, beckoning Thea to follow. She ran to catch up and grabbed his arm.

  ‘Where are you going? We need to speak to the people in the hotel.’

  Is he afraid of what we might discover about Henry Mannington? Is he genuinely interested in finding Daniel?

  ‘Now we are here, I wonder if it is too big a risk for us to go inside together,’ Vernon said. ‘This...’ he swept his arm around, including the hotel and the square in his gesture ‘...is a wealthy area and the hotel guests may very well include someone who will recognise me.’

  ‘But I do not see why that should matter. You have as much right to go inside the hotel as they do.’

  ‘Yes, but do you not see? If they know me, they will know Leo and they will know my real nephews, Dominic and Alexander. You, my dear Dotty, look nothing like either one of ’em.’

  ‘I had not thought of that.’ She bit her lip, thinking. ‘Could you not say I am a friend?’

  Vernon halted in the middle of the pavement, staring down at her with an unfathomable expression.

  ‘No, that will not wash either. You look no more than fourteen years old. No one will believe we are friends.’

  He means his reputation would suffer, being seen in company with someone like me.

  She tamped down the resentment that swelled on the heels of that thought.

  Not me...he means someone like Theo... I must not forget this is not me.

  Vernon’s gaze again swept the surrounding buildings. ‘We must find you somewhere safe to wait whilst I make enquiries inside the hotel.’

  ‘But...we agreed to stay here overnight.’

  A rueful smile twisted his lips. ‘I did not think it through. It will not work. We must stay elsewhere.’

  I do not want to go elsewhere.

  She must take an active part in the search for Daniel. She could not bear to be left to wait silent in a corner somewhere whilst Vernon went inside to speak to people who must have seen her brother on his visits to the hotel. Besides, how could she be sure Vernon would tell her everything he learned? What if he was told something detrimental about his cousin and he decided to hide it from her?

  The only way to change Vernon’s mind would be to come up with an explanation for her presence. As Vernon gazed around the square as though for inspiration, tapping his crop against h
is boot, ideas whirled around Thea’s head.

  ‘I have an idea,’ she said, as her tumbling thoughts blended together to form a plan, ‘but you might disapprove.’

  Chapter Nine

  Thea’s cheeks grew hot under Vernon’s scrutiny as his brows shot up in response to her statement.

  ‘That will make a most welcome change, my dearest Dotty,’ he murmured. ‘It is, after all, so uncharacteristic of you to come up with an idea of which I might disapprove.’

  Thea gritted her teeth against a caustic rejoinder, knowing any reaction would only encourage him to tease her further with that accursed nickname.

  She caught the twitch of his lips.

  And now he is laughing at me!

  Silence stretched over several minutes as their gazes clashed. Thea pressed her lips tight, determined not to elaborate until he was ready to listen to her in a serious manner.

  ‘Pray continue,’ Vernon said, finally, with a sigh.

  ‘Our story could be that you...or rather, that I...well...that Theo is your...’ Thea lowered her voice to a whisper although there was nobody near enough to hear what she said ‘...your bastard.’ Mortifyingly, her cheeks now scorched and she knew they must be an unbecoming shade of red. She fixed her gaze on a point beyond his right ear. She inhaled and allowed the remainder of her words to tumble out, finding it easier to refer to herself as Theo.

  ‘I... Theo...knows you are his father, but he does not know your true identity, but you support him and when you come to visit him and to take him out, you dress less fashionably so you do not draw attention and so that Theo does not guess you are really a duke’s brother.’

  ‘That...’ Vernon said.

  Thea looked up hopefully, her eyes searching his.

  ‘...is an excellent idea.’

  She beamed, relief flooding through her as she recalled her earlier suspicions. Surely, if he were untrustworthy, he would have raised objections to her plan.