by Mary Nichols
‘Captain Moore is a scoundrel.’
‘My dear, I could not agree more, but gambling debts have to be paid, you know.’ He paused and cleared his throat. ‘I could get Toby Moore off his back, if you would only say the word. It could be part of the marriage settlement.’
‘My lord, there is no need. Teddy’s debts have been paid.’
‘Have they?’ he asked in surprise. ‘Who paid them?’
‘Why, Teddy did.’
‘Excuse me, my dear, if I do not believe you. Everyone knows Teddy has pockets to let. My guess, it was either Reggie or Dickie, trying to steal a march on me.’
She laughed, the first genuine laugh she had managed since her brother disappeared. ‘I do not understand you three gentlemen. Why do you all persist?’
‘It is a matter of honour,’ he said, then, before she could ask what he meant, added, ‘I truly could not bear to see you married to either of the other two, good fellows though they are.’
She did not answer immediately. She had failed to sell the necklace and Viscount Kimberley had to be repaid before he, too, decided he needed recompensing for his generosity. The trouble was that it would be all too easy to give in to that particular gentleman.
‘At least say you will reconsider,’ he said into the silence. ‘If this latest escapade becomes known, you will be ruined forever.’
It sounded very much like blackmail, but it would not be wise to accuse him of it. ‘I will think about it.’
He grinned and lifted the back of her hand to his lips. ‘At least, my dear, it is a step in the right direction.’
The carriage was back in Mount Street in a few minutes and drew up outside Cartrose House. He helped her out and escorted her inside. They found her aunt in the morning room, reading a newspaper. She looked up as they entered. ‘There you are, Sophie. I did not know you were engaged to go out this morning, and so early, too.’
‘I was out walking and Lord Gorange saw me and took me up to bring me home, Aunt.’
‘Walking without me or Bessie? Tut tut, Sophie, that will not do, you know. Good morning, my lord. I thank you for rescuing her from her own folly. I trust no one saw you.’
‘No, we were not observed.’
Sophie stifled a giggle at this untruth. Half of London must have seen her running so indecorously and being bundled into the carriage. She prayed none of the spectators knew who she was.
‘No harm done, then,’ her ladyship said.
‘None whatsoever,’ he said, smiling with satisfaction. ‘I will take my leave of you now, but will call again in a few days, if I may. Good day, my lady. Miss Cavenhurst.’
He bowed and was gone, leaving her to be scolded by her aunt.
* * *
‘My lord,’ Farley said, standing before his master, who was enjoying a late breakfast in the dining room of Wyndham House and reading a letter he had just received. ‘You need a physician.’
‘No, I do not.’ Adam’s face and ribs were sore, but he said nothing of that. ‘Tell me what you have discovered. Turned up that scapegrace, have you?’
‘I believe he has been living in a low tavern down by the docks...’
‘Ah! Did you speak to him?’
‘No, my lord. He was no longer there. The tavern keeper told me he had been press-ganged.’
‘Press-ganged! Are you sure about this?’
‘Yes, my lord. When they came to take him he protested most strenuously...’
‘Well, they all do.’
‘Yes, but this young man tried to convince them he was a gentleman and gave them his name. Needless to say, they took no notice. He was, I gather, not in the best condition, having no change of raiment and in his cups. The innkeeper said he did not look like a gentleman and had asked for his cheapest room, for which he had not paid when he was taken. I recompensed the man from the money you entrusted with me. I could do nothing more because the ship had sailed.’
Adam began to laugh while Farley looked on in surprise. ‘My lord?’ he queried. ‘Did I do wrong?’
‘No, no, of course not,’ he said, wiping his streaming eyes. ‘Hard work and no money to gamble with will be the making of him, and Miss Cavenhurst can stop worrying about him.’
‘Speaking of Miss Cavenhurst, my lord. I was on my way back when I saw the lady running down Ludgate Hill pursued by a young fellow in a black suit, shouting, “Stop, thief”. I think they had just come out of the jewellers.’
‘You must be mistaken.’
‘I don’t think so, my lord, I am sure it was she. You don’t think...?’
‘No, of course I don’t,’ he snapped. ‘Did he catch up with her?’
‘No. A carriage drew up beside her and she was bundled inside.’
‘Whose carriage?’
‘I do not know, but I fancy I have seen it somewhere before. I could not follow, being on foot. It could have been an accomplice—’
‘Balderdash!’
‘As you say, my lord.’
‘I hope to God she has not been abducted. Heaven knows what her aunt will do if that is the case. I must go to Mount Street at once.’
‘My lord, should you? Your face... And that villain may still be out there.’
‘I am not hiding myself away indoors on his account, Farley. I recall I had a black eyepatch once before.’
‘Aye, you did when you indulged in fisticuffs with that troublemaker at the mill. He didn’t expect that.’
Adam smiled. ‘He looked a whole lot worse than I did after it.’
‘True. Shall I go and obtain such a patch?’
‘If you please. And while I am out, you may start to pack. We are leaving.’
‘Very well, my lord.’
‘Then hire a chaise for tomorrow morning. We will be on the road betimes.’
‘Yes, my lord. Back to Saddleworth, is it?’
‘No. Hadlea in Norfolk. You can go over the route and decide where we will need a change of horses.’
If Farley was surprised at that, he did not comment, but went away to procure an eyepatch.
* * *
Sophie was seated by the window pretending to read, though her thoughts were elsewhere than on her book, and her aunt had gone back to her newspaper, unaware of her niece’s seething emotions. If it had not been for Lord Gorange she could be in prison, accused of stealing her own necklace. She supposed the prison authorities would have allowed her to contact Lady Cartrose, who would have had her released. But, oh, the shame of it! She would have had to explain what she was doing in Ludgate Hill without any sort of escort. Word would have gone back to Jane and Mama and Papa, and they would be so hurt, not only by her behaviour, but Teddy’s, too. As it was she had to rely on Lord Gorange not to tell anyone the real truth. To ensure that she had been forced to say she would think about his proposal.
She was thinking, and the more she thought, the more repugnant the prospect became. And if word got out of this latest escapade, how was she ever going to live it down? Viscount Kimberley would be disgusted with her. And somehow that mattered.
As if her thoughts had summoned him, the footman tapped at the door and entered. ‘My lady, Viscount Kimberley enquires if you are at home.’
‘Yes, of course, show him in,’ Emmeline told him.
His lordship was right behind the servant, who stood aside to allow him to enter. He bowed to both ladies. ‘I am heartily glad to see you both here,’ he said. ‘I hope I find you well.’
‘As you see,’ her ladyship answered while Sophie’s heart began to beat uncomfortably fast. She really would have to discipline herself not to react in that way at the mere sight of him. And why had he said he was so pleased they were both there? Did he expect them not to be? Surely he did not know... No, he could not have. Word did not travel
that quickly, not even in London.
‘My lord, please be seated,’ her aunt said, remembering the niceties even if Sophie could not. ‘You have just missed Lord Gorange. I do declare that man is forever on our doorstep. Would you like some refreshment? Tea or coffee, perhaps?’
He flung up his tails and took a seat. ‘No, thank you, my lady. I have but recently breakfasted.’
‘What happened to you?’ Sophie asked. She had been looking at the patch on his eye and the cut just above it. He looked as though he had been in a fight. The very thought of it made her tremble. ‘You look like a pirate.’
‘I had a little altercation with a door.’
Why didn’t she believe him? ‘Is that why you did not attend the ball last night?’
‘Yes. Unfortunately I was not fit to be seen.’
‘It looks painful.’
‘It is nothing.’
‘Miss Malthouse was very disappointed.’
‘I am sorry for that. I have written to Mrs Malthouse to apologise.’
‘But you came to explain to us personally.’
‘Yes, but I have other news.’
‘You have found Teddy.’ She sat forward eagerly. ‘Oh, please say you have found him.’
‘I have not exactly found him, but I know where he is.’
‘Oh, thank God! I have been fearing the worst. We must go to him at once. Where is he? Why did he not come home?’
He held up his hand to stop her flow of questions. ‘Hold hard, Miss Cavenhurst, and I will tell you.’
‘I’m sorry.’ She subsided in her chair and waited for him to speak.
‘He had taken refuge in an inn down by the docks. I think it was likely he was waiting to board a ship...’
‘Going back to India,’ she said. ‘He did that once before, but when I asked him only a week ago if that was something he was considering, he said he did not have the money to get there. Perhaps he contrived to find it after all.’
‘Possibly that was his intention,’ he said. ‘But he was unable to carry it out. He was taken by a press gang.’
‘A press gang!’ she exclaimed. ‘In peacetime! Surely that is not possible?’
He smiled. ‘If a ship is ready to sail and is short of crew, then it is possible. They will take whomever they can get, particularly if the vessel has a government cargo. Your brother was in a tavern frequented by seamen and he had earlier been drinking with some of them. They might have alerted the press gang...’
‘Oh. Can we get him back?’
‘Unfortunately when Farley obtained this information, the ship had already sailed.’
‘Your man is sure it was Teddy?’
‘Yes, your brother resisted and gave them his name in the hope they would release him. Unfortunately the name meant nothing to them and they hauled him aboard.’
‘Poor, poor Teddy. Where is the ship bound?’
‘I believe Australia. It is a convict ship.’
‘Oh, no! I have heard such dreadful tales about those ships.’
‘He is crew, not a convict, Miss Cavenhurst. Presumably he will come back on it.’
‘Whatever will Papa and Mama say?’
‘That brings me to another piece of news. I received a letter this morning from Cousin Mark. He is unable to fetch you as planned. He writes that he expects this good weather to break and would get the hay in before it does. Apparently he needs to be there.’
‘Yes, he always likes to work with the men when he can. I think he must be a frustrated farmer at heart, but why did he not write to us directly?’
‘He has asked me to take you home.’
‘You, my lord?’ she asked in surprise.
‘Yes, me.’
The flare of pleasure at the thought was immediately stifled and replace by dismay. ‘That is too much to ask. Bessie and I will manage on the stage.’
‘Out of the question,’ he said firmly. ‘I had planned to visit Mark before going back to Yorkshire, so it is no inconvenience at all.’
Sophie looked at Lady Cartrose, half hoping she would forbid it, but she simply smiled knowingly. ‘It is very kind of Viscount Kimberley, Sophie.’ She turned to him. ‘When do you plan to leave, my lord?’
‘Tomorrow, if that is convenient for you.’
‘So soon?’ She sighed. ‘I shall miss my dear Sophie and I am sorry you will be taking bad news back to Hadlea, but the sooner the better, I think. In any case, the Season is all but over and everyone will be retiring to the country. Sophie, how long will it take for Bessie to pack?’
‘Not long if I help her, but my lord, are you sure you want to be saddled with me?’
He stood up and bowed. ‘It will be my privilege and pleasure. I will call with the carriage at nine o’clock if you can be ready by then.’
‘Yes,’ Sophie said, rising to bid him farewell. ‘I shall be ready.’
‘There now,’ her aunt said when he had gone. ‘You will have at least two days in his company. If he has not made an offer by the end of it, I shall wonder what is the matter with him.’
‘Aunt, he has said he will not marry again, and he is not a man to say what he does not mean. Besides, why would he choose me, who is always into scrapes?’
‘I have no doubt he did mean it at the time he said it, but he can change his mind just as you can. All you have to do is make a little push to encourage him.’ Having delivered this piece of advice, she added, ‘Now, I suggest you go and start Bessie on the packing. There is no time to waste. I will send a note to Augusta to say you have been called home, you will not have time to go and say goodbye to Cassandra.’
Cassie. Whatever would she think? First his lordship does not turn up for her ball when she had been so sure he would offer for her, then he leaves town with nothing but a note of apology to her mother. Unless of course... Had he left Mount Street for Hanover Square? He could even now be making his offer and complaining that his cousin had landed him with an errand he did not want but could not refuse. He could easily return to London as soon as he had delivered her to her parents. She must be very, very careful not to let him even suspect how she felt about him. It would be too mortifying.
* * *
Bessie was taken aback when she was told they would be starting home the very next morning, and declared roundly they could not be ready in time.
‘We have to be,’ Sophie said. ‘Mark asked Viscount Kimberley to take us and I do not think his lordship will wait on our convenience. He has hired a chaise and will be here at nine tomorrow morning.’
‘But what about Master Edward? Surely you do not want to leave without knowing where he is?’
‘I do know where he is.’ She smiled and went on to tell Bessie what Adam had told her. ‘He is safe,’ she finished. ‘Captain Moore cannot harm him now.’
‘That is something, at least. Do you think it was Captain Moore who gave the viscount a black eye?’
‘How do you know he has a black eye?’
‘I saw him leave from the upstairs landing. He stood in the hall to adjust his hat at the mirror. It looked a real beauty.’
‘He said he bumped into a door, though I am not sure it is the truth.’
‘Well, you are going to have plenty of time to find out. Do you want me to pack your brother’s things, too?’
Sophie considered this. ‘No. When the ship docks on its return he will doubtless come here to my aunt. He will need a change of clothes. Leave them in the closet.’
* * *
They spent the rest of the afternoon packing. Sophie had more baggage to go back than she had brought and it took their combined efforts to close the lid of her trunk. Other small items and her overnight things would go in her portmanteau. It was almost supper time when they finished, and Sophie went down to rejoin he
r aunt.
They ate their evening meal with Margaret and the conversation was of general matters, for which Sophie was thankful. She did not linger long in the drawing room afterwards but went to bed so as to be fresh for her journey. But going to bed did not mean she would sleep. Her thoughts were churning.
She was going to have two days in Adam’s company, two days of mental torture as she tried to keep her distance and be cool and composed, two days to watch him, to watch his changing expressions, the light in his eyes grow dark with anger or sparkle with humour, to note how he stayed in command, not only of those around him, but of himself. She could not imagine him crumbling with emotion. Had his wife seen any of that? Had he shown her a softer side?
Who had he been fighting with? Had he come off worse or was his antagonist in a worse case? Nobleman who quarrelled usually settled their differences by duelling, even though it was unlawful; honour had to be satisfied in some way. But fisticuffs? Was it anything to do with his search for Teddy or did he have enemies of his own? Was that why he wanted to leave town in a hurry and was using her as an excuse? She didn’t like that idea.
She turned over and thumped her pillow. ‘Stop thinking about him, find something less contentious to send you to sleep,’ she muttered. But if it wasn’t the viscount keeping her awake it was Teddy. He must have been at his wits’ end to contemplate hiding out in a tavern and going abroad again. Now he was crewing a convict ship. How dreadful would that be? Would he have enough to eat? Would the work be too strenuous for him? He was fit and healthy, but hard physical labour had never been part of his life. Perhaps it would do him good, make him grow up. But what on earth was she going to say to Mama and Papa?
* * *
She was bleary eyed and disinclined to stir when Bessie shook her awake at seven the next morning. ‘I’ve brought you some hot chocolate,’ she said, putting a dish of it on the table by the bed. ‘Drink it while I fetch a jug of hot water and lay out your clothes.’ She went to the window and drew back the curtains. Sunshine flooded the room. ‘Another hot day. Very different from the day we arrived...’
Sophie was hardly listening. She sat on the edge of the bed in her nightgown to gulp down the drink. Today she was going home with nothing to show for her six weeks in London, except a broken heart. Her Season had been a bitter disappointment. She would have to confess as much to her parents. Papa would undoubtedly say she was still young and there was plenty of time to find a suitable husband and she would have to pretend to agree, knowing there could be no husband because she had given her heart where it was not wanted.