'An hour since. But I couldn't slip out afore. It weren't my fault. I was set ter cleaning tack.'
'It doesn't matter. Here.'
Luke handed over a coin.
'Cor, ta, mister. Shall I come again when the mort – when Miss Hallem rides out again?'
'No, there's no need any more. Now you'd best get back before you're missed.'
The boy shrugged, and was shepherded out of the house by Luke.
Damaris would be able to ride or drive with him now. Luke sat down and wrote to her, asking her to drive with him the following day. He sent a footman round immediately, and ordered the man to wait for an answer, however long it took. Damaris was almost certainly back in the house by now, and tomorrow he would see her. They could, he told himself, make arrangements for the next chess game. Suddenly all his irritation fled. Now he would be able to concentrate on normal life again, plan his tactics, look forward to having Frayne Castle back in his family's possession.
*
Humphrey knew few people in London, but hostesses, aware he was in some way connected with Lady Gordon and her protegée, included him in their invitations to large events such as routs and balls. An extra, unattached man was always welcome. He, however, did not like dancing, considering it a frivolous occupation. He went to these affairs mainly to keep an eye on Damaris, to make sure she was not being made up to by unsuitable young men.
For three years he had been relieved when the old man's death, then Lady Gordon's confinement, and finally Damaris's illness had made it impossible for him to keep his promise that she could have a Season. Now, when he found he was thinking more of what Damaris was doing in London than his business affairs, he had determined to leave his business for a few weeks so that he could keep an eye on her, and prevent any unsuitable connection being formed.
Humphrey had decided it was time he began to think of siring his own son, and Damaris was suitable to be that son's mother. He must wait until she reached her twenty-first birthday before he married her. It was a pity that was not until July, when this Season would be over, but he had every confidence in his ability to deter any suitors. For one thing, they would need to apply to him for permission, and until July he would simply refuse it. Before Damaris had her birthday he would ensure she was back in Yorkshire, out of reach of any who might wish to marry her.
He called in Cavendish Square every day, only to be denied sight of her. She was unable to leave the sick little girl, who clung to her, he was informed. He was angry that she was being used in this way, totally unnecessary in a household with so many servants, but there was nothing he could do about it. Until, that is, he called one afternoon and was told Damaris was riding in the Park, since little Amelia was better and willing to make do without her for a while.
He promptly turned his hired curricle towards the Park. He would be able to meet her there. If she looked in the least pale or tired he would insist she left London for the sake of her health. If she resisted he would threaten to complain to Lady Gordon about the unsuitability of her guest being employed as a nurse. Perhaps he would soften his commands with a promise she could return for the Little Season, and by then, he was certain, she would be his wife, and her fortune safely in his hands.
He was thinking about the exact words to use when he found a high perch phaeton being pulled across his path. About to demand what the devil the driver meant by such a discourteous manoeuvre, he perceived the said driver was a dashingly-dressed young lady, one of the most handsome he had yet encountered in London. His protests were hastily swallowed.
'Oh, sir, pray forgive my presumption, but I had to speak with you. You are Mr Humphrey Lee?'
Unable to think what such a ravishing creature could possibly want with him, Humphrey nodded. He was racking his brains to remember if he had seen her at any of the balls, but could not. Surely, if she had been present, he could not have forgotten her. Yet her lavish dress, the sparkling jewellery she wore, rings and a huge diamond brooch, as well as the smart equipage, indicated she was a member of the ton.
She smiled, and gestured towards her own tiger and Humphrey's groom.
'Can we walk for a while? What I have to say is for your ears only.'
When Humphrey nodded she gave the reins to her tiger, and waited until he had dismounted from the curricle and came to assist her from the high seat of her phaeton. Then, taking his arm, she led him aside into a path leading away from the main carriageway.
'I did not know where you lodged,' she said as they walked along, 'or I would have sent a note asking you to meet me. What I have to say concerns your ward, Miss Hallem.'
'Damaris? Who are you, Madam, and what is your business with my ward?' Humphrey asked, having found his voice.
'Who I am does not matter. I have seen the attention Lord Frayne has been paying her, and I wished to prevent her from making a great mistake. I have tried to speak to her, but she refuses to meet me. So I turn to you.'
'What mistake?'
She sighed, and clasped his arm more tightly.
'It pains me to have to say this, sir. Lord Frayne is obsessed with regaining Frayne Castle. He thinks marriage to your ward will achieve that. But he is not free to wed.'
'Not – ? What do you mean?'
She took a deep breath, and Humphrey felt his gaze drawn to her shapely bosom.
'Three years ago, when I was too young to understand the implications, I went through a form of marriage with him. I am an orphan, sir, with no one to advise or protect me. He said we had to keep it secret, until he found another house for his aunt and cousin, and I could move in with him. Then, this Season, when your ward came to London, he cast me off. He said it had not been a legal marriage ceremony. I don't know even now if I am truly a wife or a duped, ruined woman.'
'Why, the rogue! How could he treat you so?'
'It was the only way he could entice me into his bed, sir,' she said, hanging her head so that Humphrey could not see her face. 'I was an honest girl. We were content, I believed, though he made excuses for not introducing me to his friends and family. Something to do with an inheritance, he said. But now I know he has ruined me, and he has discarded me, in order to try and marry your ward.'
'But, if he has turned you off, how do you live? You appear to be wealthy, you have horses and jewels.'
She gave a rueful smile.
'He gave me an allowance of sorts, on condition I did not reveal the facts. These jewels I wear are copies, paste and coloured glass. I have had to sell the originals in order to supplement an inadequate allowance. The horses will have to go next. However, I cannot endure to see him deceiving your ward, so I determined to speak to you, to tell you the truth so that you can protect her.'
'I – I can scarce believe any gentleman could behave so.'
'He may have a title, and be wealthy, but he is no gentleman. Well, I have told you of my shame, but I should not be seen talking to you. If he discovers I have broken my word he will stop my allowance entirely, and then I will be truly ruined.'
'But what do you expect me to do, if I am not to confront him?'
'Tell your ward, warn her. Now, sir, I must go. Pray wait until I have driven off. We ought not to be seen together.'
***
Chapter 10
Damaris looked at the man who had doffed his hat to her. She knew his face, but could not recall his name.
'Miss Hallem, good day to you. It seems a long time since we met at that dinner party. How is Lady Gordon? I have seen Sir Thomas occasionally at White's, and he tells me the children have been ill and you have been helping to nurse them. The angel of mercy.'
Now she knew him. It was Lord Ryecot, the Marquess's son. Mary had invited him to dine that first evening. She had seen him afterwards at balls, but he had made no move towards her, not even asking her to dance. Surely most men, if only to be polite, would ask a girl they had met at a dinner party to stand up with them? Now he seemed to her condescending.
He had turned his horse to ride alongside her.
'The children are better?'
'Much, thank you, my lord.'
What did it matter to him? He had not struck her as a man who made polite enquiries about people or children unknown to him. He clearly wanted something, but she could not imagine what.
'So you are able to escape for a while. How pleasant.'
'Yes, I enjoy being able to have some air.'
'Then perhaps you will drive with me one day? My father has a house on the river, towards Richmond, and I need to see to something there. But it is so small a thing, not worth the effort of riding or driving so far just for a few minutes. With your company, though, such a drive would be delightful. We could go to Richmond Park, calling at the house on the way. What do you say? Will you come with me?'
Instinctively Damaris shook her head. She did not like the man, and could not understand why, having virtually ignored her for weeks, he should now seek her out with such an invitation.
'Thank you, sir, but I do not feel able to leave the children for long just now. The little girl is very clinging, and depends on me.'
'Then may I drive you here in the Park for an hour? Surely you could escape for a short time. Tomorrow, perhaps?'
She could think of no reason to refuse, without appearing discourteous, so inclined her head.
'Thank you, that would be pleasant. Unless it rains, of course,' she added, glancing up at the clouds which were scudding across the sky. There had been thunderstorms occasionally during the past few days. Maybe one would come to save her from his company.
'Oh, it won't rain. At four then.'
'You are more sanguine than I.'
'It would not dare to rain and spoil our outing.'
She had expected him to accompany her back to Cavendish Square, but he raised his whip and rode off. Watching as she turned Bonny's head towards the gate, she saw him join a group of half a dozen riders, men and women, and they continued across the Park. They were too far away for her to be certain, but she thought some of them had turned their heads to look in her direction. Had they been waiting for him? She supposed they were his friends. Had they been watching? She had an uncomfortable feeling. Was this some sort of dare? Why should the man suddenly approach her? Was she being oversensitive?
She spent some time in the stables, brushing Bonny down and making a fuss of the mare. She had missed her almost daily rides while attending on the children, and knew Bonny had too from the way the mare nuzzled her. Eventually she handed Bonny over to a groom for the final grooming and went back into the house.
'This note has just been brought, Miss,' a footman told her. 'An answer is asked for.'
She took the note into the book room, breaking the wafer, and frowned when she read it. Lord Frayne, asking her to drive tomorrow? Of course, he would be anxious to arrange the second chess game. She was about to sit down and pen an acceptance when she recalled she had agreed to drive out with Lord Ryecot. She nibbled at the end of the pen. It would not do to change, much as she would have preferred Lord Frayne's company. She sighed, and wrote a brief apology, explaining she was already engaged that afternoon. Should she presume and suggest a different day? No, she decided. It would look forward, and she was wary of giving Lord Frayne any encouragement in case he misinterpreted it.
Hastily she fixed a wafer and went to give the note to the footman before running up the stairs to change. The next game of chess would be crucial, and she was anxious to put her fate to the test. She was nervous, an unusual state for her, but a good deal was at stake. If she won, she would have acquired a London house she did not need or want. If she lost she would have a further wait until the final game, knowing then that she would need all her skill to defeat Lord Frayne and save the Castle.
*
Humphrey drove slowly back to the livery stables where he hired his horses and carriages, then walked round to his hotel. He was puzzled. Who was the woman who had accosted him? If she had, as she claimed, been tricked into a false marriage by Lord Frayne, and then kept hidden by him, it was natural he had not previously met her. How true was it? Had the marriage been false, or had it been a real one that the Earl now wished to forget? In either case, it should put paid to any notion Damaris might have of marrying the man. It was his duty to inform her of the allegation. But would she believe him?
If he merely repeated the information the woman had given him, Damaris was likely to ask for proof, and he could give her none. He should have asked how he might get in touch with the woman, but he had been so astonished by her information he had not thought even to ask, or to demand her name. He had never seen her before, so could not depend on meeting her again, by chance.
He thought back over the encounter, seeking for clues. She claimed to be poor, but her carriage had been an elaborate one and well-maintained. The team pulling it were sleek, well-matched, and no job-horses like the slugs he had hired. She maintained her jewellery was paste, but Humphrey had on occasion given real, if very small and flawed, diamonds, to his own mistresses, and he doubted those she wore were paste. They had been excellent copies if they were. She said her allowance was inadequate, but what would a London woman, fashionably dressed as far as he could judge, consider adequate to maintain her lifestyle? Far more than a Yorkshire lass who had had the good fortune to catch his eye and be kept for a while under his protection, he was sure.
Humphrey was a successful businessman, and no fool. Had the woman told him the truth, or did she have a reason for concocting such a story? Was she a jealous, discarded mistress? She had been a bold piece, approaching him in such a manner. Or was she a woman who had hoped to marry Frayne, might still think she could win him if Damaris were no longer a threat? What could he do to discover the truth? More importantly, how could he most effectively use the information to make Damaris reject his lordship, and at the same time persuade her to turn to him?
*
The Earl, on receiving Damaris's note, swore under his breath. Was the girl being elusive on purpose? He promptly sat down to write another note, this time asking her to drive with him on the first afternoon she had free from other commitments, so that they could discuss arrangements for the next game. The footman was once more sent to Cavendish Square, and came back with a note suggesting the day after tomorrow. With that he had to be content. There was a ball that evening, but he suspected neither Damaris nor Lady Gordon would feel like attending after the week or so they had been nursing the children, so he decided not to go himself. He shrugged. Then he wondered at his disinclination. In the past he had enjoyed the social life of the Season, deriving considerable amusement from watching ambitious mamas trying to catch eligible husbands for their young daughters. Surely these chess games and the fate of Frayne Castle could not have driven every other consideration from his mind?
He would seek out one of the better chess players he knew and have a practice game or two.
He was so engaged at White's later that evening when Clarence came in. The boy gave him a tentative smile, and then took a seat on the other side of the room from where he sat nursing a glass of port and practising flipping open a snuff box, which had an irritating click. He was watching Luke with an unwavering stare. Luke was irritated, knew he was losing his concentration, and could do little about it. When he lost the game he considered challenging Clarence to a bout in Gentleman Jackson's boxing ring, but decided that would be taking a childish revenge. He laughed at himself and walked across to sit opposite Clarence.
'I think you need to speak to me?' he asked, signalling the waiter for a bottle of port.
'I thought you'd be at the Furseden ball,' Clarence said, 'and I've had the devil of a job to find you. I even went to the Besant soirée and had to endure some screeching soprano until I could sneak away. You weren't at Willett's, or in your box at the opera – '
'No, I wasn't at any of those,' Luke cut in, 'and now you have found me. I must assume you have something important to say, if you take such pains to find me, when you could have come to Upper
Brook Street in the morning.'
'Ryecot was at the ball,' Clarence said.
Luke frowned. Clarence rarely attended such affairs unless commanded to escort his mother and sister, and when there he normally took himself off to the card rooms as soon as he could.
'So?'
'Well, I thought you'd like to know.'
'Did you?'
Luke gritted his teeth. What the devil had got into the boy?
'You're chasing the Hallem wench, aren't you?'
Luke began to pay attention.
'What do you mean?'
'Well, it's the talk of the clubs you want to marry her to get back Frayne Castle.'
'Is it, indeed?'
'Yes, and I know I'd be prepared to go through with it if the Castle had once belonged to me. I don't blame you, Luke. And she's a tasty morsel. I wouldn't mind bedding her myself.'
Luke found his hands clenching into fists. He took a deep breath and decided to ignore his cousin's opinion of Miss Hallem's desirability and concentrate on his other comments, but he found the notion of Damaris in bed with Clarence, or any other man, a strangely distasteful one that would not be banished from his mind.
'It never has belonged to me, since my father lost it, many years before I was born,' he explained, trying to be patient. 'What has this to do with Ryecot?'
'He was there.'
Luke again told himself to be patient.
'So you have said.'
'I thought you'd like to know. He was dancing attendance on her, and she looked as though she liked it.'
Luke tried not to permit his frustration to show. So they had gone to the ball after all, and he had miscalculated, and missed an opportunity of dancing with her. His chess game had been unproductive, too. His opponent, the only one he could find, had been an orthodox, conventional player, and if he had not been distracted by Clarence Luke should have won the game with ease. Instead he had made one elementary error and lost.
He considered going on to the ball, but it was late, Damaris would not be likely to have any free dances on her programme, and to appear in the guise of one begging for favours did not suit his purpose. His absence might even be to his advantage, if she missed him. Then he snatched at the thought. Why did it matter if she missed him or not? Their's was a purely business connection. Or if Ryecot was dancing attendance on her. Surely she had more sense than to be taken in by a man like him, a fop, an unpleasant reptile.
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