The Unlikely Rivals

by Megan Daniel

  He stared at her a moment, then shook his head with finality. “No, no, impossible! My grandfather died within a year of their marriage, I’m told, and she went away— childless—to the Continent and never came back.”

  “Quite true,” said Lady Hester. “Your knowledge of the family history is commendable, Rowbridge, but incomplete, I fear. Within six months of her arrival in Brussels, Susannah Rowbridge was delivered of a daughter, Cornelia who, some twenty years later, married a Dutchman by the name of van Houten. I daresay you can figure out the rest.”

  “Precisely, ma’am,” said Saskia, reseating herself primly, and making a strong, and to all appearances successful, attempt to rein in her temper. “Much as I may loathe the connection, sir, we do appear to be cousins. But, pray, do not let it disturb you! I have as little wish to recognize the relationship as you.”

  The young man was silent a moment. His outburst had been understandable. He had been trying so hard to restore the name of Rowbridge to respectability, and he simply could not deal with any of his grandfather’s dirty linen. His father had left quite enough of that. Relief that the linen was not at all dirty made him no more eager to hang it on his line. As head of the family he had all the responsibility he could handle.

  He did realize, however, that he had spoken too hastily of the young lady in question and, even more serious in his mind, he had been guilty of a breach of manners. He offered her a short, stiff bow.

  “My apologies. I did not know.”

  “Well, no,” put in Lady Hester. “How could you, indeed? Susannah didn’t wish any of her family to know. She’d been treated remarkably shabbily, you know, when she ran off with Edward. Detestable fellow, her father. Rich as Croesus and cut her off without a shilling. And Edward his best friend, tool But there, I’m getting ahead of myself. I fancy you’re wondering what you’re doing here, in the home of a slightly deranged old lady who never troubled herself about either of you and expected you to return the compliment. And I daresay I may tell you if only you will settle down a bit. My hookah, Rowbridge.” Luckily this bewildering demand was accompanied by a gesture toward her two-foot-high standing pipe. It was fetched and lit; the room began filling with curls of smoke; and Lady Eccles began her story.

  “I am an old woman. I have lived a splendid life. And now I’ve taken a fancy to the idea of dying in the home where I was born. I have returned to England to purchase Rowbridge Manor and there to quietly, or at least inevitably, fade from life.”

  “I trust, Aunt,” interjected Derek, “that that will be many years from now.”

  “Hah! You may not hope it when I tell you why I’ve brought you here. As even I cannot hope to go on forever, I feel it incumbent upon myself to name an heir. One of you will be it.”

  The two young people would have been less than human had their eyes not sharpened by one or two degrees.

  “Hah! I thought that would make you listen. Quite true. One of you shall be my heir, a privilege, I might add, not to be lightly disdained as I am currently worth something in the neighborhood of a hundred thousand pounds. But you will have to earn it first. And whichever of you earns it will get it.”

  Both of the cousins were very proud, and their eyes narrowed in suspicion. Saskia spoke first.

  “Just what would you have us do, ma’am?”

  Her cousin added, “I’ll not deny such an event would be most welcome to me, ma’am, but I fear I am no false flatterer.” ,

  The old lady laughed, the deep, hearty laugh that might have been thought vulgar in anyone else, but in her was totally charming. It lightened her dark eyes with warmth and animated her face, and it was easy to see how she had managed to capture three peers in succession and leave a trail of broken hearts clear across the Levant.

  “Oh, have no fear,” she said at last. “I am no Lear, looking to see my young relations toady to me to a disgusting degree. I’m not in my dotage yet, and I should dislike excessively being fawned over by some young snip who was waiting for me to die. No, no. I have quite a different sort of requirement in mind, I assure you. And I daresay you may not find it so distasteful, for you seem rather to have taken each other in dislike. That should add some spice to the undertaking. For you see, what I am proposing is in the nature of a contest.”

  “A contest?”

  “Or call it a race, if you like, or a gamble. But only one of you will win, and that one shall be my heir.”

  Their surprise at this may be imagined. Curiosity was written clearly on their faces; their eyes met for a moment, a moment of study, perhaps, of their would-be opponent. Whatever sort of contest could Lady Eccles have in mind? Derek was confident of his abilities in any sort of card game she might name. Saskia knew herself to be well-read and educated enough to stand up creditably in a test of information.

  Added to their speculations were perhaps a few niggling doubts about the propriety of any contest at all, but Lady Eccles did have the right to dispose of her own fortune as she saw fit. And if she wished to make game of it, they might well be willing to play. If they knew what the game was and if it turned out to be one that did not jar against their consciences, which they fervently hoped would prove to be the case. The ques-

  tions flitted across their features, and Lady Eccles enjoyed the moment immensely. At last she spoke.

  “As I have said, I wish to finish my days in Rowbridge Manor. I wish to buy it. I intend to buy it I am prepared to pay any price to obtain it.” Her voice had grown determined.

  Derek thought he understood. “And is the owner not disposed to sell it to you, ma’am, at any price? Surely you, with your personal qualities, could endeavor to

  change his mind.”

  “Humph!” Lady Eccles’s frustration was showing. “I daresay I might, for I’ve managed to talk my way around a good few wiziers, moguls, and caliphs in my day. But my ‘personal qualities,’ as you call them, are no good whatever to me against a shadow.”

  “A shadow, ma’am?” Saskia was puzzled.

  “Who is the owner, Aunt?” asked Derek.

  “A fellow by the name of Banks, I’m told, though I’ve never laid eyes on him. Nor has anyone else as far as I can tell. He doesn’t live in the house. Indeed, no one has lived at Rowbridge Manor since Susannah left it nearly forty-five years ago. It is managed by an agent here in Bath, and there is a pair of caretakers to keep it from going entirely to ruin. But of Mr. Banks not a hair has anyone seen.”

  “Could you write to him, perhaps, through the agent? Explain why you want the house?” said Saskia.

  “I am not a complete fool, girl! That has, of course, been tried. The answer is always the same. Rowbridge Manor is not for sale.”

  “Just how did this Banks fellow come to own it in the first place?” asked Derek.

  "Well, I fear my brother was an immoderate gambler. The Rowbridge blood, you know.”

  “I do know,” he replied with a grimace.

  “He settled down amazingly when he married Susannah, but by then the damage had been done. He was up to his ears in debt. When he was killed in a freak accident, it was discovered that Banks held all the mort-

  gages on the estate. He’d bought up several of Edward’s other debts as well. In any case, everything that was left went to him, and Susannah went off to an aunt in Belgium. I understand Mr. Banks is still alive and still the owner of the Manor. The problem is to locate him and convince him to sell it to me. I have made no headway whatever. Now you will try. One of you will get me that house, by whatever means you must. And that one will have my fortune.”

  “What leads you to suppose,” said Derek, “that we shall succeed? Would it not be more certain to hire an agent of some sort, an investigator with experience in such matters?”

  “Well, I had considered it, but I must own to yet another reason for asking two young relatives to take on the task.”

  “And that is?” asked Saskia.

  “I have been in England six months now, and never, never, have I been s
o heartily bored! I promise you I am quite weary of it. I expect to be excessively diverted by this little contest I have concocted. I rather think there will be more than one false step between you. It should be quite a show.”

  “Perhaps you should employ a troupe of mummers, ma’am,” said Derek with an acerbity his aunt chose to ignore.

  “Also there is the matter of my fortune. It must go to someone. You represent the two branches of the family, and I fancy I’ve hit on as good a means as any of determining the worthier of you. I expect it will take a good deal of cunning and more than a little ingenuity for one of you to succeed. They are qualities I admire.”

  “And supposing neither of us succeeds?" asked the practical Saskia.

  "Well then, there are one or two charities in Turkey I fancy could find a use for the money,” said Lady Eccles airily. “But I don’t expect you to fail, and I shall enjoy watching your efforts. Yes, indeed. I expect the next few months to be very diverting.”

  “Few months!” gasped Saskia. “But..

  Lady Eccles cut her off. “I shall expect regular progress reports, of course, as you get into it, and ..

  “Excuse me, ma’am,” Saskia said firmly, “but you must not go on. I thank you for your kind offer, and do most bitterly regret that I must decline to take part in your scheme.”

  Derek looked at her in amazement, as did her aunt

  “Nonsense, girl!” she snorted. “Have you taken leave of your senses entirely? You will never be offered such another chance in your lifel”

  “I realize that, ma’am. Please believe I am most dreadfully sorry. But it is out of the question. My family depends on me rather heavily to manage things at home. To be away from them for so long is beyond considering.”

  “And what of your mother?” asked Derek. “Is that not

  her responsibility?”

  “Mama has much to occupy her. And she is, well, a bit...” She trailed off, unwilling to betray Mama.

  "Dotty, is she?” asked Lady Eccles. “Most of the Row- bridges are.”

  “Certainly not! She has supported us single-handedly since Papa died. She works very hard indeed!” The anger and pride in her dark brown eyes shot out wonderful sparks. “It is just that she, well, she requires a great deal of time and concentration for her work.”

  “And just what is her ‘work?” asked the old woman.

  “Mama writes,” Saskia said proudly.

  Lady Eccles nodded and muttered, “Dotty. I should have known it Very well. You shall bring her with you. And there is a sister, is there not?”

  “Two sisters, ma’am, and two brothers.”

  “But, good God! There are five of you?”

  “Five, ma’am,” she answered in her matter-of-fact way. “Managing such a household is a full-time occupation.”

  “So I should think. Clearly you cannot stay here with me, then. I detest children. You will need a house. I be-

  lieve there is a habitable one in Laura Place. The Duchess of Rushford has just left it.”

  “Laura Place? But...”

  “Now don’t go all highty-tighty on me, miss! If Laura Place is good enough for Her Grace of Rushford, what objection, pray, can you have to it?”

  “You misunderstand me, ma’am. It is far too fine! Ndt to wrap it up in plain linen, we cannot afford it. I fear you will have to proclaim Mr. . . . my cousin, winner by default.”

  But Mr. Rowbridge, being a man of honor, could not allow this. “I beg pardon, Aunt, but I could not accept the prize under such circumstances. If my cousin cannot take part, I, of course, must also refuse. I’m sure you will agree.”

  “Are you?” said the old woman, a look of unholy amusement in her dark eyes. “But then you do not know me very well, do you? Enough of this! I meant, of course, that I will cover all the expenses involved. It is my contest, after all.”

  “You are very generous, ma’am, but naturally I could not allow such a thing,” said Saskia proudly but stupidly.

  “Nor I,” added Derek.

  Lady Eccles harumphed in exasperation. “The Row- bridge pride! I might have expected such foolishness. Were you both trying to make me think you completely bird-witted, there would be no surer way. If you let pride convince you to turn down this chance, I shall wash my hands of both of you. You may run back to your respective holes with your tails between your legs and forget that your very wealthy aunt ever returned to England, as she will most assuredly forget you!”

  Derek bristled. Saskia stiffened. Lady Eccles glared at them, daring them to speak. They didn’t.

  “Good,” she continued. “Now these are my instructions” Her voice took on the tone of command that had stood her in good stead throughout a long life filled with would-be tyrants. She had out-tyranted them all.

  “You, miss, will send to Eyewash, or wherever, and summon your too numerous family at once. The house in Laura Place can be made ready in a very few days. You will see to clothing yourself suitably, for I’ll not be seen going about Bath with a young lady who looks like a governess. You will find a carriage, hire servants, and so on. I suppose the others will need new wardrobes as well, if that dress is any indication. Very well, see to it.”

  “As for you Rowbridge, you will get yourself rooms at the York House. You will also get yourself some decent clothes and a valet to care for them. You’ll need a carriage, and I expect you’ll want a riding horse as well.

  “One week from today both of you, settled and looking respectable, will start your search, and the contest will begin. I shall assume responsibility for every reasonable cost, and probably for several unreasonable ones as well, for three months, or until one of you succeeds. The winner will be named my heir and given a healthy allowance until I condescend to die. The other will have had a quite luxurious holiday in Bath at my expense.”

  She saw that Derek’s face had grown steadily darker, for he was unused to being spoken to like an errant schoolboy. “And I’ll bear no skimble-skamble stuff about the expense. I am well able to stand the nonsense, I promise you. I want Rowbridge Manor, and you are my best chance of getting it. All I want from you is a simple yes or no.”

  Derek brought his indignation under control with difficulty, but he was no fool. Here was a chance to turn his life around. “As you wish, ma’am,” he said with a stiff bow.

  “And you, miss?”

  Saskia’s mind had been racing. Three months in Bath, in such comfort and luxury! Companions for Mama; a chance to present Beatrix with real elegance; and none of the constant, nagging worries about money. She made a curtsey. “I should be honored, ma’am.”

  “Humph! I am glad to see that you are not total fools. That is settled then. Now shake hands with each other as opponents are supposed to do before entering the

  fray.” The two young people eyed each other warily. Finally Saskia held out a neatly gloved hand. Derek took it, and they gave one short, firm handshake.

  “You may go away now,” said Lady Eccles. “It is time for my afternoon meditation.” Her eyes closed. “I shall see you both at dinner.” They were dismissed.

  They looked at each other again, dislike and sympathy strangely mixed in their expressions, and walked silently from the room.

  Chapter Seven

  With their heads in such a whirl, one might expect the cousins to sleep badly that night. But to two such serious individuals, nothing so frivolous as insomnia could be allowed. Derek had spent far too many hundreds of nights slung in a hammock on a crowded deck to have his night’s sleep disturbed by anything less than cannon thunder. And Saskia had always been much too busy to waste time or energy tossing and turning in her bed. They both slept like the proverbial rocks.

  Exhaustion might offer some explanation for this shocking want of sensibility. They had, after all, made a tedious journey and their first evening in Bath had been eventful.

  Based on their experience of the Divan, they had both entered the dining room in some trepidation, fearful of what they might be ex
pected to eat and fervently hopeful that they would not be asked to take their meal reclining on a sofa or to eat with their fingers. With Lady Eccles one ought not to be too sanguine.

  They were vastly relieved, therefore, to see a conventional dining table set with a full complement of recognizable china, glass, and cutlery. A reassuring baron of beef and some familiar roasted pigeons helped to set

  them at ease. Even their aunt’s introduction of such unknown delicacies as lentils with hot peppers, red caviar salad, and a layered confection dripping with honey did not materially dimmish their enjoyment of the meal. Saskia loved diem all. Derek did not try them.

  The conversation consisted of a series of pronouncements, recommendations, and verdicts from their aunt— Lady Eccles was a woman of strong opinions—regarding their stay in Bath. Soon their heads were swimming at the luxury, extravagance even, their life would offer, at their aunt’s expense, during the next three months.

  There were servants to be hired—“Get yourself a good valet, Rowbridge, and a groom. I expect you’ll know what you want.” There were horses and carriages to plan for—“I’ve a number of good Arabians in my stable, most likely going to seed. They need exercising. You may do it.” Lodgings must be procured. And there was shopping, shopping, and more shopping.

  “Whatever you may think about such frippery concerns as fashion and appearance,” she said, “I have a reputation to support.” She thought a moment, then added, “I don’t suppose that’s precisely true, is it? If I do have a reputation of sorts, it is as an oddity, in which case whatever strange starts you get up to would be no more than expected. Well, that’s neither here nor there. Put it down to a desire not to be surrounded by shabbiness, for I must say, Rowbridge, that coat is sadly shabby.”