Regency Admirer/The Merry Gentleman/The Gentleman's Demand

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Regency Admirer/The Merry Gentleman/The Gentleman's Demand Page 38

by Meg Alexander


  ‘May I offer the suggestion that you sell the inn? Mr Sayles here might possibly be interested. His property investments are extensive.’

  Sophie was silent. Three weeks ago she would have jumped at the chance to sell, but since then she had learned that the inn was not hers to dispose of. She became aware that both men were awaiting her answer.

  ‘I...had not thought of it,’ she faltered. ‘I have no one to advise me. Will you give me time to consider your proposition?’

  Sayles rose to his feet and walked over to the window. His impatience was evident, but Harward’s manner did not change.

  ‘Of course, my dear. This is a big decision for you. Naturally, you are wondering why we have approached you quite so soon?’ He paused, and Sophie realised that he was weighing his words with care. ‘The thing is, Mistress Firle, that we had an arrangement with your late husband. For a consideration he allowed us to store our surplus cargoes in your cellars.’

  Sophie managed to look suitably astonished. ‘We keep our ales and spirits in the cellars, sir. I have seen nothing else...’

  ‘I don’t expect you would,’ he said agreeably. ‘The entrance is concealed. Your husband insisted that it should be so. There is always the danger of pilfering, as he knew.’

  ‘He said nothing of this to me,’ she protested. ‘Do you tell me that you have goods there at this moment?’

  ‘We have!’ The blue eyes rested earnestly upon her face. ‘There is a danger that some of it may perish if it is left too long. Lace, for example, may rot in damp conditions.’

  ‘I wonder that you should have chosen our cellars, Mr Harward. More suitable warehousing might have been found elsewhere.’

  ‘You are quite right.’ Harward sighed heavily. ‘Sadly, Brighton is so overcrowded that every inch of space is taken. This is one reason why Mr Sayles proposes to buy the inn. There is little point in importing goods if one cannot store them safely.’

  Sophie looked at the bland face. This was a clever man. He was so plausible. If Hatton had not warned her, she might have believed his every word.

  An exclamation from his friend drew him to the window, but Sophie could not hear the whispered words which passed between them.

  ‘Who is the tall gentleman?’ Harward asked in casual tones. ‘I think that I may know him.’

  Sophie’s blood ran cold. Almost paralysed with fright, she forced herself to join him at the window, knowing full well that Hatton must be the object of his interest.

  That gentleman was strolling across the stable-yard with Kit settled happily on his shoulders.

  ‘Do you think so, sir?’ Her voice was surprisingly calm. ‘Mr Hatton has but recently returned from the Peninsular War. You must have known him years ago.’

  ‘A soldier, and one of our brave lads? I must be mistaken, ma’am. What a charming sight, to be sure. The gentleman looks very much at home here...’ The keen eyes scanned her face.

  Sophie willed herself to blush, but she could manage only a demure expression. ‘I refused him then, but now that I am widowed he hopes...that is...’ Her voice died away in confusion.

  ‘Most understandable,’ Harvard comforted her. ‘Am I to wish you happy, ma’am?’

  ‘Oh, no! Not yet! It is too soon. A widow cannot...I mean, I must not offer him encouragement before the year is out.’

  ‘And then?’

  ‘I am not sure, sir. It may be that I shall have no option.’

  ‘On the contrary, my dear there is always an option, if one wishes to take advantage of it.’

  Sophie stared at him. ‘I don’t know what you mean,’ she said.

  ‘Let me assure you, ma’am, it is nearly always a mistake to enter into wedlock merely to secure one’s future. There are other ways for a sensible woman to earn a comfortable living.’

  ‘Perhaps so, but I do not know of them.’

  ‘Why, it is simple, Mistress Firle. If you decide to stay on here, we could pay you rent for the use of your cellars. We ship only the most valuable of cargoes, so the rent would be correspondingly high. Indeed, we owe you money at this present time.’

  He drew out a large roll of notes and laid them upon the table.

  Sophie gasped. ‘Great heavens! Surely that is far too much?’

  ‘Not at all, my dear. Now, if we might make some arrangements to move the goods?’

  Sophie was seized with a spirit of mischief.

  ‘Certainly, Mr Harward. I must imagine that you will wish to arrange for wagons immediately. They can’t move when the ground is sodden. Shall we say tomorrow morning?’

  For the first time Harward looked non-plussed. Then he recovered himself.

  ‘You are right about the roads,’ he agreed. ‘I believe we should move whilst this frost holds. Darkness is not ideal for travelling, but we may have rain by morning.’

  ‘Will you show me the entrance to this cellar?’ Sophie asked in apparent innocence. ‘I find it difficult to believe that it exists when I did not know of it.’

  As she had expected, Harward was fully conversant with the layout of the cellars. As she watched, he strode towards the hidden entrance and motioned her inside.

  ‘You see the value of these goods, ma’am? Believe me, we have not overpaid you.’

  ‘Will it not be difficult for you to carry them up the staircase and through the inn?’

  ‘I think not, Mistress Firle. There is another exit some few hundred yards beyond the inn. All that we ask is that you allow one man entry to this cellar. He will unbolt the doors beyond.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘I felt sure you would. Now you shall not trouble yourself further. Leave the rest to us. We have no wish to disturb your slumbers tonight.’

  Sophie found that her hands were trembling. The man must think her a fool. What woman would accept such a cock-and-bull story? It must be clear to anyone of intelligence that this was a smuggling operation.

  Sophie fingered the roll of notes in her pocket, and then she understood. Harward was under no illusions. If she had guessed at the truth of the matter, she had been paid to hold her tongue. Whether or not she believed him was not of any importance.

  She led the way out of the cellars to find Matthew waiting for her. He was trembling with anxiety.

  Sophie frowned a warning at him. At the sight of her companions he looked like a rabbit transfixed by a snake. Strangely, his terror stiffened her own resolve.

  ‘Yes?’ she said sharply. ‘What is it, Matthew?’

  ‘It’s the folk in the parlour, mistress. Their coach has been repaired and they are wishing to be on their way after settling their account.’

  ‘Tell them I’ll be with them in a moment.’ Sophie turned back to her companions to find Harward gazing thoughtfully at the retreating Matthew.

  ‘Your servant seems to be of a nervous disposition,’ he observed.

  To her own great relief, Sophie managed a girlish laugh.

  ‘My dear sir, you must know what country people are like. They are suspicious of all strangers.’

  ‘An unfortunate characteristic in his circumstances, ma’am.’

  Sophie was on her dignity at once. ‘Mr Harward, I cannot run this place alone. Help is not readily available. Both Matthew and his wife are loyal to me.’

  Harward was all apologies. ‘Pray forgive me, madam. I did not mean to criticise. It is just that... well...one wonders if the man would defend you should the need arise?’

  ‘Now I see what you are about!’ Sophie’s glance was coy. ‘You are trying to frighten me in the hope that I will sell to you...’

  She heard a jovial laugh. ‘You are too shrewd for me, my dear young lady. Now, are we agreed that you will open the cellar doors tonight?’

  Sophie made a pretty show of hesitation. ‘I don’t know what to say,’ she admitted in apparent confusion. ‘Oh, dear! You will think me as suspicious as my servant, but do you have some paper to show your title to these goods?’

  She heard a snort of anger from
his companion.

  ‘No, ma’am.’ Harward’s look was enough to put a stop to any further demonstration of ill will. ‘Your late husband did not think it necessary. We had a gentleman’s agreement.’

  Gentlemen indeed! Sophie almost choked with indignation.

  ‘Then I suppose I must take your word for it,’ she told him grudgingly.

  ‘I cannot blame you for your caution,’ Harward continued. ‘But consider, Mistress Firle. How could I know of the entrance to the cellar or find the key to the door if we had not used the place before?’

  ‘Of course! I had not thought of that. How foolish you must think me.’

  Harward bowed. ‘Not at all. Caution is an admirable quality. It must always serve you well.’

  Sophie appeared to be satisfied. ‘When shall you wish the outer door to be opened?’ she asked.

  ‘Shall we say...at any time after six this evening. It will take us some time to arrange for wagons and ponies.’

  And it will also be full dark by then and the moon will not be up, Sophie thought to herself. ‘Anything else?’ she enquired. ‘Shall you wish that my servants help you?’

  Pure mischief had caused her to ask the question and his answer did not surprise her.

  ‘We should not dream of troubling you or them,’ came the smooth reply. ‘We have men enough of our own. There is, however, one further matter...’

  ‘Yes, Mr Harward?’

  ‘May I stress the need for discretion? This arrangement with your husband was not known to others...not even to your servants, I believe. We thought it better so. Word gets about in the most curious ways and we do not care to offer a target to any of the lawless bands who roam the countryside. Best to keep all your shutters closed tonight.’

  Sophie was staggered by his effrontery, but she kept her countenance.

  ‘Then, gentlemen, if you will excuse me? My customers are waiting.’

  Harward made her a deep bow. ‘A pleasure to do business with you, Mistress Firle. We shall not bid you goodbye, but merely au revoir.’ With that he took his companion by the arm and strode away.

  Sophie’s eyes were sparkling with excitement. Now, at last, she had news for Hatton, but first she must see her customers on their way. She was too absorbed to notice that the partially opened door at the far end of the smug now closed without a sound.

  The injured travellers were generous in their thanks, and also with their tips. Sophie tried to hide her impatience for them to be gone. Then she summoned Matthew.

  ‘Will you find Mr Hatton for me?’ she asked.

  ‘No need! Matthew came to fetch me when you went into the cellars...’ Hatton’s expression was a curious mixture of pride and anxiety. ‘Are you all right, my dear?’

  ‘Of course I am!’ Sophie could not wait to tell him her news. ‘You were right! They plan to move the goods tonight.’

  ‘So soon?’ Hatton grew thoughtful. ‘Matthew said that there were two of them. Who was our friend’s companion?’

  ‘Harward introduced him as a Mr Horace Sayles.’

  Hatton gave a low whistle of surprise. ‘Indeed? Now we are getting somewhere. What could have brought him into the open?’

  ‘He offered to buy the inn.’ Sophie gave him a mischievous look. ‘I almost sold it to him.’

  Hatton chuckled as he looked down at the vivid little face. ‘Now you are making game of me,’ he accused. ‘What did you say to him?’

  ‘I told both gentlemen that it was too serious a decision for a foolish little woman, with no one to advise her.’

  She heard a shout of laughter. ‘Did they believe you? If so, they can’t be much of a judge of character.’

  ‘Why, thank you, Mr Hatton!’ Sophie dimpled at him. ‘To be honest, I don’t know if they believed me, but they made me another offer.’

  ‘And what was that?’

  ‘They wished to make me their associate. You were seen, you know, and they questioned me about you. I explained your lovelorn condition, but Mr Harward was at some pains to assure me that to marry for security alone was always a mistake. There were other ways for a lady to secure her future.’

  Hatton’s face darkened. ‘They insulted you?’

  ‘Of course not!’ Sophie was puzzled. Then she understood him. ‘Neither gentleman was looking for a companion, sir. They suggested that I continue the so-called “gentleman’s agreement” which they had enjoyed before...before...’

  ‘Before Firle was killed?’

  Sophie swallowed hard and nodded.

  ‘And what did you say?’

  ‘I did as you suggested and was not too eager to fall in with their plans. I made a number of objections, but Harward was most persuasive. He even gave me this!’ She took out the roll of notes and laid it on the table. ‘It is a large amount of money. I don’t know what to do with it.’

  ‘Keep it! You have earned it!’ Hatton was surprisingly abrupt.

  ‘Is something wrong? I thought you’d be pleased.’ Sophie’s sense of achievement vanished.

  ‘Of course I’m pleased. You have done well. I am only sorry that you had to be the one to deal with them.’

  ‘I’m not!’ Her tone was defiant. ‘If you must know, I enjoyed it. Oh, I was afraid at first, but it was not so difficult to play the part of a nincompoop.’

  ‘Try not to get a taste for danger, Mistress Firle. These men are ruthless. From what I know of Harward, he is not easily taken in, and nor is Sayles. It may have suited them to appear to believe you.’

  ‘Well, sir, I am glad to hear that you don’t believe that I can play the part of a nitwit!’ Sophie’s tone was acid. She’d been proud of the way she’d played her part, but Hatton had dismissed her efforts out of hand.

  ‘On the contrary...sometimes you play it to perfection, ma’am...and not always when you intend to do so.’

  He was teasing her again and Sophie bristled. ‘You are the most ungrateful wretch I know,’ she cried.

  ‘Am I?’ He reached out and took her hands in his. ‘Never think that of me. I am in your debt for life.’

  The warmth in his voice brought hot colour flooding to her cheeks and she drew her hands away.

  ‘What will you do now?’ she said in a low voice.

  ‘I think we must be ready for them. They will be allowed to get away from here. Then we will follow them to London. Sayles and his friends will be anxious to reap the rewards of this consignment after all these weeks. I shall hope to attend their meeting.’

  Sophie’s hand flew to her mouth. ‘Will that not be much too dangerous?’

  ‘It won’t be without risk,’ he agreed. ‘But with any luck we shall catch all our birds in the same trap.’

  ‘Is...is there anything I can do?’

  ‘No, my dear. Your part in this is finished. Just do as they suggested. Say nothing to any of your servants, and keep all the shutters closed tonight.’

  Sophie felt deflated. The part she’d played in Hatton’s plans now seemed insignificant. His quarry would be caught, then tried and sentenced, and she might never know the outcome.

  ‘You feel, then, that nothing will go wrong?’ she asked.

  ‘One can never be sure. There is always the chance of the unexpected...’

  Suddenly she was seized with terror. ‘Suppose you should lose them?’ she cried.

  ‘Then we must try again, but this is a huge consignment, Sophie. Neither men nor wagons will be easy to conceal upon the road.’

  This time she did not reprove him for the use of her given name. Indeed, she barely noticed.

  ‘That is not to say that they won’t know they are being followed,’ she insisted. ‘At the first sign of danger Harward and Sayles will disappear. Dear God, they may come back to find out how they were betrayed.’

  Hatton rested his hands upon her shoulders and shook her gently. ‘Do you suppose that I haven’t considered the possibility, my dear? Each of them will have two men to watch him at all times.’

  ‘But they are clev
er. They could still elude you.’ Sophie looked up at him and suddenly she was in his arms, held close against his chest.

  ‘Would I let harm come to you?’ Hatton’s voice was raw with passion, muffled against her hair. ‘Look at me, Sophie! Surely you must know by now...’ His mouth came down on hers.

  This time she could not doubt him. This was no part played to deceive her servants. His lips were warm against her own, at first gentle, and then insistent, willing her to respond to him.

  Sophie melted into the spell of that embrace. Her arms reached up to circle his neck as she gave herself without restraint. Their mutual passion was dizzying in its strength, and she was breathless when he released her.

  It was only to hold her away from him as he looked long into her eyes. Then he began to kiss her again, caressing her eyelids and the corners of her mouth with the lightest of a butterfly touch.

  Sophie turned her head to find his lips again, but he held her at arm’s length.

  ‘Well, now you know, my love!’ he told her in mock despair. ‘I had hoped to wait until a more suitable time before declaring myself.’

  Radiant with happiness, Sophie could not resist the chance to tease him. ‘You have not done so, sir. I am at a loss to understand your strange behaviour.’

  ‘Witch!’ he tugged at a straying curl. ‘What of your own, you shameless hussy? It was unkind in you to lead me on—’

  ‘I led you on? Why, you wicked wretch! You kissed me without a by-your-leave.’

  ‘So I did. It had escaped my notice, ma’am, that I should ask your permission first. But now I have another question for you. Will you be my wife?’

  Too overcome to speak, she held out her hands to him and he saw the tears sparkling on her lashes.

  ‘My dearest love?’ he protested as he wiped them away.

  ‘They are tears of happiness,’ she assured him.

  Chapter Ten

  Still uncertain whether to laugh or cry, Sophie looked deep into Hatton’s eyes.

  ‘This can’t be happening!’ she whispered. ‘I don’t believe it. Am I dreaming, or have I really agreed to become your wife?’

  ‘I hope so, my dear.’ Hatton held her closer to his heart. ‘Otherwise I shall be deeply shocked. Seated upon my knee, and with your arms about my neck, you are in a most compromising situation.’ He chuckled as he nuzzled his lips to her cheek.

 

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