Devonshire: Richard and Rose, Book 2

by Lynne Connolly

  Richard, sitting next to me, sighed in what sounded like a resigned way, but I kept all my attention on Tom. “She ran off towards the Manor and I thought she was doing as I’d told her and going home. We hit the man, and he fell to the floor, but he must have been hellish strong, because he came up again with that knife in his hand. I don’t know what happened then but I was so angry I forgot about any danger and I rushed him. I caught him off balance and knocked him over. And when he didn’t come up again we looked a bit closer, and we saw he’d fallen on the knife.”

  He stopped abruptly and took another drink, emptying his glass. In the silence, we all heard the glass rattle on the table as he failed to control his shaking hand. James sighed. “An unfortunate accident. We should be thankful for that.”

  “Yes indeed,” Martha agreed.

  “The Cawntons might not let it rest,” said Richard sombrely. “This is the second incident in the village, and they may see it as a campaign against them. They may also see it as the unfortunate loss of a worker, especially this close to a run, and take umbrage. Tom should consider leaving for a time.”

  “They wouldn’t dare hurt Tom!” Martha cried in outrage.

  Richard frowned. “They might. It would give his parents peace of mind if he was away from here. Has he any relatives he can visit for a time?”

  Tom made a disgusted sound. “I won’t leave the high ground to them. They can’t run roughshod over us!”

  “They may, in the short term,” Richard said regretfully.

  Tom was beside himself with indignation “No. They break the law and they put terror in the hearts of ordinary decent people. Do you know our fields empty the day before a run, because they’ve all been told to rest and prepare for the night’s work?”

  “No, but it’s the sensible thing for them to do,” Richard replied mildly. “You can’t fight smuggling from here. If you really want to help, get yourself elected to Westminster and lobby there. It’s a countrywide problem, even though it is handled locally. It needs to be tackled from the centre, not piecemeal.”

  “Faugh!” Tom turned away. I was appalled at his lack of control, but Tom was overset by the recent events, and must be at the end of his patience. We sat in silence, until Tom said, in a milder tone, “I beg your pardon, sir. I shouldn’t have done any of this. I should go and tell my father.”

  “Please consider going away for a time,” Richard repeated. “They may seek reprisals.”

  Tom said nothing, but bowed to us, and he and Theo left the room.

  Richard sighed heavily. “I’m much afraid the Cawntons won’t leave this incident be.”

  “Is there nothing you can do?” I asked him.

  “My dear, what can Strang do?” Martha protested. “He’s a man of fashion, not at all concerned with these matters.”

  Richard shook his head in regret. “We should try to persuade Tom to go away until this blows over. There’s a run soon I believe, and they may choose to forget if it’s a successful one.”

  James’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “How can you know that?”

  Richard smiled easily. “My dear Hareton, you’d have to be blind not to notice the frantic activity in some areas.”

  James nodded briefly. “I suppose you’re right.” He was unimpressed.

  “You’d be best advised to leave this alone, Richard,” said Gervase gravely. “After all, you have other things to concern you.”

  Richard looked at me and smiled, an intimate one this time. “So I have,” and he said no more on the subject.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The Earl and Countess of Southwood arrived in Exeter safely. Now Society appeared thick and fast in preparation for the wedding. I found it hard to believe it was all for me, but it seemed so. My worries for Tom not a whit abated, I realised I had other duties, and set about fulfilling them.

  Richard took me into Exeter to visit his parents. When I stepped from the carriage outside the house, it brought back all the memories of that afternoon. I felt shy and confused, but I must have been getting better at controlling my feelings, because nobody noticed except Richard, who pressed my hand encouragingly as we went through the front door. This time a superior butler took us all the way up to the drawing room and announced our presence in ringing tones.

  There were servants present now, the smell of cooking seeped up from the kitchen below, and there was a feeling of busy habitation, entirely lacking before. I regained my composure, as I climbed the stairs resting my hand on Richard’s arm, just like a proper visitor.

  The earl and countess formed a formidable partnership. Both unbendingly strict, and determined to have their way in all things, Richard had infuriated them more than once with his wayward behaviour.

  At first sight the earl bore little resemblance to his sons, so I could find nothing familiar about him, nothing I could befriend and find sympathy with. He viewed me as a suitable vessel for his heirs, if he thought of me at all. The warmth with which he welcomed me as a prospective bride for his son had a lot more to do with the relief that his heir had finally decided to do his duty than any other consideration. He didn’t perceive the affection with which Richard and I held each other, and if he had, he probably wouldn’t have cared.

  Lady Southwood was a small lady, whose face was the same pointed shape as her sons’, and her hair the same golden yellow. The most striking resemblance however was her eyes, which were the same startling clear blue colour.

  Unlike her husband, she had perceived Richard’s feelings for me, and had declared herself amazed, but in the way someone might be amazed by a performing bear. Either she kept her feelings well hidden, as Richard did, or she had none, and I didn’t yet know which.

  I greeted Richard’s sister, Lady Maria, with genuine pleasure. She was Richard’s junior by a full ten years, the last healthy child borne to the earl by his countess after a tragic series of miscarriages and weak babies who didn’t survive for long. Maria had been contracted to marry my cousin, the younger son of the fourth Earl of Hareton, but when they saw the state of affairs, Richard and Gervase had strongly advised against it. If it weren’t for this, Richard and I would never have met when we did, and matters might have turned out differently for both of us.

  Lady Southwood took me to sit next to her by the fire, for it was one of those sunny, chilly days in early spring that can be so deceptively cold despite the bright sunshine. “Are you quite recovered from your dreadful experience of yesterday, my dear?” I stared at her, wondering how she knew. “Strang sent a note,” she explained.

  “Yes, quite recovered, ma’am. I’m more concerned about my friend Tom Skerrit, who was directly involved in it all.”

  “The boy seems to have some spirit,” Lord Southwood said from where he stood by the window.

  Richard strolled across the room to join his father. “Spirit won’t get him far with organised gangs like these.”

  Lord Southwood regarded him with disfavour. “It’s the only way to stop these beggars—stand up to ‘em.”

  Richard met his stare dispassionately. “There are different ways of accomplishing the downfall of the gangs that rule the coast, and on the whole I prefer the effective ones. It will take Parliament to properly deal with them.”

  “Send the army in, that would soon deal with the scoundrels.” The earl’s face lit up at his solution, and he looked about the room for the expected approval.

  He got none from his son. “It would be expensive, in lives and in every other way. Why not cut duty? It would cost the country little, as the loss of revenue would be set off by the increase in volume in legitimately traded goods.”

  The earl opened his mouth, closed it again, pondered, and then cleared his throat. “There’s something to be said for that. But if we cut taxes on liquor, public drunkenness would be even worse than it is now.”

  Richard said, “Parliament has passed a licensing act, has it not?” His father nodded. “Then if they actually enforce it this time, it should go a
long way towards stopping the drink problem. Clean water might help, and in any case, where does all this liquor come from? It will still come from the same source, but it would be legal and therefore easier to control.”

  Lord Southwood smiled broadly. “Come, we’ll make a politician of you yet. That’s a well-reasoned, cogent argument. Would you like to be a political hostess, my dear?” he added, turning to me.

  I took a sip of tea while I searched for the right reply. I knew Richard had no ambitions in that direction, but I didn’t want to antagonise his father unnecessarily. “If Lord Strang should like it, then I would do my best,” I said, thinking myself diplomatic.

  I warmed to Richard’s slow smile of appreciation.

  “I’m sure you would make an excellent political wife,” Lady Southwood said. “But, Strang, how could you become involved in a brawl in the public street? I can’t think you would do such a thing.”

  His sister gazed at him, her eyes glowing with excitement, but he couldn’t give her the description she looked for now, although I thought she might well press him for it once she had him on his own.

  His father also expected to him for an explanation, and he was not disappointed. “I’m sorry the story should be doing the rounds of the gossips, and I wish you would depress it for me if you hear it. The truth of it is, that two of the local bullies were beating another man in front of a house where Rose and I were paying a social call. I can’t allow such insults to her, so I broke up the fight, that’s all. One of them attacked me, so I depressed his pretensions and sent him packing.”

  “I wasn’t aware Miss Golightly was there.” Lord Southwood looked at me for all the world as if I was a child who had never seen such a thing. However, I saw where Richard was taking this, so I held my peace.

  “I can’t permit such insults in her presence,” Richard told his father firmly. “It’s also true we were visiting an old friend of Rose’s, a lady somewhat advanced in years who isn’t in the best of health, and the fracas upset her considerably.”

  “And all you did was break it up?” I wondered why his mother should be sceptical. Richard had been known for his amours, not for his brawling.

  “Indeed, Mother,” Richard replied. “And restore the unfortunate victim to his family, who lived nearby.”

  “It sounds perfectly acceptable to me. We’ll certainly put paid to that particular rumour.” Lord Southwood cleared his throat again, and got out his snuff box, a wonder of the miniaturists’ art, flipped the lid and offered some to Richard, who took his usual infinitesimal pinch.

  Lord Southwood seemed to enjoy his snuff, drawing it in deeply with an air of satisfaction. “You’re not thinking of getting involved with the local riffraff, are you?”

  The innocent blue stare fixed on him would have fooled that wily politician, Mr. Fox. “Involved, sir?”

  His father, harassed, looked to his wife for assistance, and finding none, returned to his son. “You called it once ‘clearing up a small matter’.”

  “No, I have no such intention.” Richard gave his father no clues.

  The earl glared at him. “Then you will come to us tomorrow with Gervase?”

  “I’ll follow in a day or two, sir. I’m helping Lord Hareton with a trifling affair concerning Rose’s childhood friend.” He made it sound unconnected with the fracas in Darkwater village.

  Lady Southwood sighed heavily. “Is this person in trouble?”

  “Yes he is,” Richard replied bluntly.

  The countess raised her hands in the air in a gesture of exasperation. “I knew it. Strang, you’re getting married in less than two weeks. Please don’t embroil yourself in anything here.”

  “I have no intention of it, ma’am.” Richard left his father’s side to cross the room and take his mother’s hands. Their hands together looked so similar, except Richard’s were larger, but the shape, that long, elegant line was there; something I’d never noticed before.

  Richard spoke to his mother directly. “It’s rather the other way around. Tom Skerrit was involved in a fracas the other day that resulted in a man’s death. It was a clear case of accidental death, but matters would be better resolved if Tom took leave of absence for a while. I hope to convince him of that. I wasn’t even there at the time.” I hoped they didn’t think to ask where I was when it all happened, and connect it with their kind enquiries earlier. They were obviously not familiar with the names of the people involved, or it would have been much easier to put two and two together.

  “And you know this Tom Skerrit?” her ladyship asked me.

  “He’s the son of the squire. We used to play together as children. Richard’s trying to help him to scotch any scandal, and if Tom should be absent, then it would all be dealt with more smoothly.”

  “It seems reasonable,” Lord Southwood said doubtfully, and then seemed to lose interest in poor Tom. “But you must come to us soon, Strang. It wouldn’t do for you to be married from your betrothed’s house.”

  Richard smiled. “No indeed, sir, and I promise you I will be married from this house.” His father was forced to accept his promise. Soon after that the visit came to an end, and Richard took me away.

  We spent the rest of the day in visits. All the available fashionable houses in Exeter had now been let, and we toured some of them. We entered fashionable drawing rooms, which contained some of the most important figures in the land, all there for my wedding and, I came to understand, some amusement and a change from the usual fashionable rounds. The story of Richard’s run-in with the local villains was repeated more than once, and scotched in the same fashion as before by us both, and by the end of the day I was heartily sick of the story. These people wanted gossip, the same as the local gentry, and I wished them joy of it. They weren’t so different after all, but their spheres of influence were larger, their manners more elegant and their clothes grander. Still, I was glad when the day came to an end and I could lean back against the squabs in the carriage with the satisfied sigh of one who has done her duty.

  “Such an ordeal,” mocked my love.

  “It was. I’ve always found social visits hard work, and I’ve met more new people today than I ever hoped to. I tried to remember all the names. I hope I’ve been successful.”

  “I’m sorry.” He took my hand. “I grew up with most of them, you see, and you seemed to fit in so well I almost forgot your sheltered upbringing.”

  I laughed. “Sheltered? With smugglers on our doorstep and enough gossip to fill any London salon? I would say restricted, but certainly not sheltered.”

  He smiled. “Restricted then. But I’m convinced you’ll slip in to your allotted place as though you’d always been there. I know you were worried about it, but I don’t think you need concern yourself any more.”

  “What do you think they’ll say about me?”

  His eyes sparkled, and he smiled teasingly. “That you’re a pretty-behaved young lady, but they don’t know why I should choose you, over their Mary, Elizabeth or Margaret.”

  “You have, though, and I can’t fathom why. I am no different to many of these young ladies, and many of them are superior to me, you know they are.” I wouldn’t let him interrupt, and I wasn’t fishing for compliments. “They’re younger, prettier, better educated, and every day I wonder why you chose me. You might regret it one day, but I’m determined to make you as good a wife as you would find anywhere.”

  “My dear.”

  “No, Richard, I mean it. I know what I am, and I know what you are, and what you could have for the asking. Any of the eligible young ladies we met today would have had you; at least I’m assured they would by their kindness to you. I’m only beginning to realise how lucky I am.”

  We were out of the city now, on the country road, so he forestalled any more of my halting speech by taking me in his arms and trying to convince me I was worthy of him.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Gervase stood in the hall, about to take his leave to stay in his parents’ ho
use in Exeter. “Are you sure you won’t come?” he asked Richard.

  Richard smiled and glanced at me. “In a few days. I want to make sure young Skerrit is out of any danger.”

  He addressed Martha, who stood behind us. “If it’s no trouble? If you’re overwhelmed with preparations, I can always go today.”

  “Not at all,” Martha replied, thin lipped. She would never turn anyone from her door, however inconvenient she found it.

  I kissed Gervase on the cheek and he smiled, returned the salute, and went out to his waiting chaise.

  “The mantua-maker is waiting,” Martha reminded me.

  After a rueful look at Richard that made him laugh, I followed her upstairs. My trousseau took up more and more of my time—I had never owned so many garments in my life before. The seamstress came every day, and the mantua-maker was here for a final visit to ensure my wedding gown was exactly as it should be.

  When I was back to myself, dressed in a simple gown, ordinary again, my attendants left me and I went downstairs to see if I could find Richard.

  He was in the small drawing room, talking to Tom, who looked tired, drawn-faced and white. I didn’t think he’d had much sleep recently.

  Richard seemed calm, reasonable, but he wouldn’t relent. “I have apartments in several cities abroad that you are welcome to make use of, but I don’t think it will come to that,” I heard him say when I entered. Looking round to see who it was, he smiled in greeting, but continued to talk to Tom. “You must have some relatives you can pay a diplomatic visit to.”

  “I don’t see why I should leave the high ground to them,” Tom said, his mouth set in a mulish line. “I’ve done nothing wrong.”

  Richard glanced with me, his expression serious and concerned. “Tom, you sought this man out, you attacked him in front of witnesses. And if a man is stabbed in this country, the man who stabbed him is automatically convicted of murder, whatever the circumstances. Accidental or not, you are to blame. You’re in grave danger.” I caught my hand to my chest. I had no idea that was the case.