Matthew was the only one present who offered no threat, only the challenge of setting him at his ease. To Charity the combination was irresistible, and she took a cup of tea from Mrs Riversleigh and gave it to Matthew, sitting down beside him as she did so. It had occurred to her that the best way to draw him out must be to ask him about his work, and that was what she proceeded to do.
Matthew looked rather alarmed at her approach. But when she was neither patronising nor flirtatious he began to feel more at ease. And when she asked if it had been he who’d made the beautiful silver gilt teapot, and seemed genuinely interested in his reply, he became quite talkative.
Mrs Riversleigh appeared to be concentrating on her embroidery, but in fact she was watching them in some amusement. Even after forty years, Matthew was as enthusiastic about his craft as he had been as a new apprentice. Given the opportunity, he could talk well and at length about what he’d made in the past—and he was always full of his plans for future work.
He described the processes of casting, soldering and annealing to Charity; explained the difference between embossing, chasing and engraving, and even upended the contents of the tea caddy on to the silver tea-tray so that he could show her how he’d finished it.
Charity had begun to talk to him partly because she really was interested, and partly to take her mind off her other problems. But it wasn’t long before she became quite engrossed in what he was telling her. She’d always enjoyed the company of people who were good at something and, once he’d lost his initial self-consciousness, Matthew was able to bring his stories and descriptions to life.
“Of course, that was the salvar Hogarth engraved for us,” he said at one point.
“Hogarth!” she exclaimed.
“He began life as an engraver,” Jack explained, looking up briefly from what he was doing. “I don’t think Matthew has ever forgiven him for his fall from grace to become a mere painter!”
“Well, I can see the merit in his pictures too,” Matthew admitted. “But it was a sad loss to the trade.” And he continued with his description of the early days of the business, when Joseph Pembroke had realised that he would never have a son to succeed him and had taken Matthew into partnership.
Jack didn’t interrupt any more. Early in the conversation he had taken some paper from the bureau and begun to sketch Charity and Matthew as they sat talking. Mrs Riversleigh knew what he was doing, but neither of the other two did.
His movements were quick and deft and, when he at last put down his pencil, Mrs Riversleigh got up and went to stand at his shoulder to look at the finished sketch.
Jack was a very fair artist, but Mrs Riversleigh had always believed that he drew best those people that he knew best—and those people that he loved. He was as close to Matthew as he had been to his father and she wasn’t surprised to see how well he’d caught the silversmith’s likeness. But she had to restrain a gasp when she looked at his picture of Charity, and she knew then that at least one of her unspoken questions had been answered. The girl on the paper was as vibrant and full of life as the girl talking to Matthew. Jack had surpassed himself.
“It’s very good,” she said softly.
“It is, isn’t it?” he looked at the sketch almost as if he was surprised that it should be so.
“What is it?” Charity glanced up, momentarily distracted from her discussion with Matthew.
Jack passed her the sketch, and she looked at it for a long moment without saying anything. Then at last, with her eyes still on the picture Jack had drawn of her, and apparently quite irrelevantly, she said, “When can I see the Earl?”
“Tomorrow morning. I’ve arranged a meeting.”
“Good.” For almost a full minute Charity continued to look at the sketch, and Mrs Riversleigh wondered what she saw in it.
“It’s very good,” she said quietly as she finally handed it back to Jack. “It’s not often one sees oneself through someone else’s eyes. Thank you.”
For a moment her gaze locked with Jack’s, almost as if she was seeking the answer to her question. Then she stood up.
“I’m sorry, I hope you’ll excuse me,” she said to Mrs Riversleigh. “But it’s getting quite late and I’m afraid I’m very tired.”
“You’ve had a tiring day,” said Mrs Riversleigh. “I hope you’ll sleep well.”
“Thank you.” Charity smiled briefly, and went quickly out of the room.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“Yes, Bolton?” Lord Ashbourne was sitting at the table, his head bent over the letter he was writing, and he didn’t look up at the servant’s approach.
“Lord Riversleigh has arrived, my lord.”
“Show him into the library. You may tell him I will join him shortly.” The Earl’s pen continued to travel unhurriedly over the paper as he spoke.
“Yes, my lord. There is a lady with Lord Riversleigh, my lord.”
“A lady?” Lord Ashbourne finally looked up. “Did she give a name?”
“No, my lord.”
“I see.” A hint of curiosity gleamed in the Earl’s eyes, but he didn’t say anything further on the subject. “Provide them with refreshment, Bolton. The lady may care for some tea, perhaps.” He dipped his pen in the ink and completed his unfinished sentence.
It was twenty minutes later when Lord Ashbourne finally joined his guests in the library, and they were twenty very difficult minutes for Charity. She suspected, though she couldn’t be sure, that the Earl was making them wait to display his own consequence, and she began to feel angry.
“It’s not you he’s slighting,” said Jack softly. “Don’t let it agitate you. I didn’t tell him in my note I was bringing anyone with me and, although he certainly knows you’re here now, I’m fairly sure he doesn’t know who you are. It’s me he’s trying to provoke. I asked for this meeting, which means that I probably want something from him, and that made it almost inevitable he’d keep me waiting.”
“Doesn’t that anger you?” Charity demanded; she couldn’t understand how Jack could be so calm in the face of such an insult.
“It might if I allowed it to,” Jack replied quietly. “But it would be a waste of energy—and a victory for the Earl. It’s better not to let yourself be sidetracked from your purpose.”
He had tried to explain this to Charity before, but without much success and, despite his calm demeanour, he was in fact unusually tense. It was not his forthcoming meeting with Lord Ashbourne which worried him, but how Charity would react in what was bound to be a difficult situation. He had tried to prepare her for the meeting, but she had been unresponsive and distant. She was afraid of being misled, or of having her purpose blunted, and she was determined to deal with Lord Ashbourne on her own terms.
“Riversleigh, my dear fellow. How delightful to see you again. I’m sorry to have kept you waiting.” The Earl strolled into the room, calm and unhurried.
“Not at all,” Jack replied politely, standing at the Earl’s approach. “It was kind of you to grant us an interview at such short notice.”
“Us?” Lord Ashbourne queried courteously. “I believe I have not previously had the pleasure of meeting your charming companion.”
He turned to Charity as he spoke, and she saw the slightly appraising look in his eyes as he smiled at her.
“No, I don’t think you have,” said Jack. “This is Miss Charity Mayfield.”
Lord Ashbourne clearly hadn’t expected that, but he was too sophisticated to show his surprise openly.
“My dear Miss Mayfield,” he said, after only a moment’s hesitation. “I am delighted to meet you. I was…very sorry to hear of your father’s death. He was a remarkable man.”
“Thank you.” Charity’s voice was as cold as the hand she allowed the Earl to kiss, but she was containing her fury very well.
She didn’t know Lord Ashbourne and she was sure he was mocking her. It was only Jack, watching his host carefully, who thought there was something odd in the Earl’s manner. The Earl wa
s doing his best to conceal it, but Jack was convinced that he had been thrown off balance by Charity’s presence.
“I’m all the more delighted to make your acquaintance because my agent has been so impressed by your remarkable grasp of business,” said Lord Ashbourne urbanely. “Do, please, sit down again.”
He gestured towards a comfortable chair before the fire.
“I hope things are proceeding to your satisfaction,” he continued. “Is there any way in which I may be of assistance—or have you come to pay your father’s debt?” His voice was almost languid in its lack of emphasis.
“No, my lord,” said Charity.
She ignored the chair he offered and sat at the table, her hands clasped tensely before her.
“I’ve come to ask you why you tricked my father into losing Hazelhurst to you,” she said baldly.
“Tricked?” There was a hint of contempt in the Earl’s voice now, though the expression in his eyes was quite unreadable. “My dear young lady, there was no trick. Mayfield and I simply amused ourselves with a few hands of piquet. Unfortunately your father lost rather heavily.”
“Ashbourne!” said Jack suddenly before Charity could speak, and the Earl swung round to face him. “It may save time at this point if I tell you that we know that your meeting with Mr Mayfield was not entirely…accidental,” Jack continued quietly.
He didn’t think this was a situation in which there was anything to be gained by fencing, and the quicker they reached some kind of understanding, the better.
“Do you, indeed?” said the Earl, his attention now entirely directed at Jack, almost as if he found Jack easier to deal with than Charity. “May I ask why?”
Jack glanced briefly at Charity, but she seemed surprisingly reluctant to speak, so he continued with the explanation himself.
“Two nights ago I had the misfortune to encounter Ralph Gideon,” he said. “He was just about to make his third attempt to ransack the library at Hazelhurst.” He saw the look of sharp understanding spring into the Earl’s eyes, and smiled grimly.
“Quite. Perhaps I should inform you that during his brief stay in Sussex he has not only helped a prisoner to escape from the custody of the local magistrate, but also shot that same magistrate’s son in the process.”
“Dead?” Lord Ashbourne asked sharply.
“No. But only because Miss Mayfield was on hand to administer immediate assistance,” Jack replied.
The Earl glanced at Charity, a frown in his eyes.
“A most unpleasant experience,” he said. “I’m sorry that any relative of mine should have caused you such distress.”
“Sorry!” Charity burst out, forgetting her previous intentions as she impetuously rejoined the conversation.
Her unusual silence until that moment had been prompted by the sudden realisation that she might find it more instructive to listen than to speak. It had finally dawned on her in those painful minutes while she had been waiting for the Earl to appear that she was even more anxious to know how Jack would deal with the situation than she was to find out what had happened to her father. And she was afraid that, if she took the lead in questioning Lord Ashbourne, she might never find out what Jack really felt about the Earl. Nevertheless, it was impossible for her to remain silent for long.
“It wasn’t Gideon who tried to cheat my father out of everything he possessed—and it’s not Gideon who is responsible for all the misery my family has suffered this past year!” she exclaimed. She was breathing quickly, her eyes burning with anger and dislike.
“Lord Riversleigh says you did nothing illegal,” she continued, her voice quieter now and more compelling than any scream of outrage. “I’m not sure I believe him. But even if he’s right—how do you justify what you’ve done to us?”
Her eyes were locked with the Earl’s.
“I’m not sure I know what you think I have done,” he said at last, his voice stripped of all expression.
“You wanted the pendant, the jewel by Hilliard,” she said. “I don’t know how you knew it was in the house, and it’s not important. But you didn’t go to my father like a gentleman and tell him it was there—or offer to buy it. Instead you tricked him into playing cards with you, and into losing so much money that the only way he could repay the debt would be by selling Hazelhurst—and then you agreed to take our home in lieu of cash. Isn’t that what you did?”
She was leaning forward, her arms resting on the table, her eyes blazing with fury. She had forgotten Jack; she had forgotten everything but the man sitting before her who had caused so much pain to so many people.
For a moment there was silence. The Earl was looking at Charity, a curious expression on his face.
“Broadly speaking, you’re quite correct,” he said at last, and some of the tension left Charity.
“You consider such conduct unforgivable,” he said softly. “No doubt you’re right, but having admitted my guilt so readily, perhaps I might be permitted to say a couple of things in my own defence.”
Charity didn’t answer, and after a moment Jack said, “You’re the only witness to what happened, Ashbourne. I think it would be best if you told us everything.”
“Will you believe what I say?” the Earl asked.
“Perhaps.” The two men looked steadily at each other for a moment, then Lord Ashbourne turned to Charity. “I didn’t cheat,” he said. “Please understand that. Whatever else I might have done, I have never cheated at cards in my life. I would scorn to do so!”
“You sound very grand,” she replied quietly, meeting his gaze with her honest brown eyes. “No doubt you are very grand. But beneath the fine speeches and the fine clothes you’re still only a man, and you can never be any more than that—only less.”
The Earl drew in a deep, slightly uneven breath and turned away to lean his arm on the mantelpiece.
“I tried to buy Hazelhurst first,” he said after a moment. He was staring down into the fire, not looking at Charity. “Through an agent, of course. Your father wouldn’t sell, even though I offered nearly half as much again as it’s worth. After that I really had no choice but to pursue other methods.”
“You could have told him the truth,” said Charity inflexibly.
“That did not occur to me,” Lord Ashbourne glanced up briefly, “although at first I did wonder whether he knew about the pendant—but he didn’t. Certain things he said made that plain. But you mustn’t think I lied to him—lying, like cheating, is something I never do. I simply didn’t tell him all the facts.” He paused, but Charity didn’t comment.
“Well, I don’t suppose you’re interested in my personal foibles,” he continued, turning back to face her. “I arranged for a chance meeting; I believed he was flattered when I invited him back here; he was certainly quite willing to play cards with me—unfortunately for him, his skill was not equal to his ambition.”
Charity bent her head and closed her eyes. The Earl’s words could have been an epitaph for Mr Mayfield’s life. It hurt her to think that he should have exposed himself to the scorn and ridicule of a man like Lord Ashbourne.
“He was a very brave man,” said the Earl quietly. “At first he wasn’t aware of how much he’d lost, and when he realised he couldn’t afford to pay what he owed he tried to win his money back. He didn’t, of course, but I stopped the game when the debt equalled the value of the property. There was no need to continue any longer.”
“Should I be grateful for that?” asked Charity bitterly.
“No,” said the Earl. “But when he left me I did think he would seek out the man who’d tried to buy Hazelhurst and take up his offer. If he had done he would have had ten thousand pounds in hand.”
“Would you still have bought it?” Charity asked incredulously. “Even when there was no longer any need?”
“I didn’t want to have to wait a year before looking for the pendant,” Lord Ashbourne replied.
“Why did you give him that year?” Jack asked suddenly.
; “I really cannot say,” the Earl said, and, whatever his earlier feelings might have been, his mask of indifference was now firmly back in place. “No doubt I had a reason at the time, but I cannot recall it now.”
“Then it seems to me you’re in danger of being convicted by your own boasts,” said Jack.
Lord Ashbourne frowned, then he realised what Jack meant.
“The truth then, if you must have it,” he said, a sharper note in his voice. “I won twenty thousand pounds from Mayfield that night. But even when he knew he was ruined he continued to act with dignity and courtesy. I had expected him to be distraught, angry, even suspicious, but he wasn’t. I have done many things in my life, but I have never destroyed a man before—and then heard him thank me for giving him a pleasant evening. I told you he was a brave man.”
Charity looked away, tears in her eyes. The Earl was the last person she had ever expected to praise her father, and she was thrown off balance. Everything had seemed so simple before; now it was becoming so complicated.
“I still wanted the pendant,” said Lord Ashbourne. “But Mayfield deserved a chance to recover—he’d earned it. So I gave him a year. I expected him to sell Hazelhurst to the interested buyer. But when he didn’t I thought he’d found another way to pay the debt.”
“He was dead,” Charity whispered.
“Yes, I know that now. I didn’t know it then. I didn’t find out until your lawyer contacted me a couple of weeks ago.” Lord Ashbourne walked over to stand before Charity.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
Charity turned her head away.
“You didn’t make any effort to find out how he was going to raise the money?” Jack asked.
“No.” The Earl looked down at Charity’s averted face, then went back to stand by the fireplace. “The cards had been dealt. It was up to Mayfield how he played them.”
“An unlucky metaphor, don’t you think?” Jack said, an edge to his voice.
“Yes. I apologize. At the time I had no desire to interfere any further. I regret that now. Had I done so I would have discovered that Mayfield was dead—and that you had apparently no knowledge of his agreement with me.”
Ten Guineas on Love Page 24