‘You will be disgraced,’ John said, obviously worried. His attention wavered and Ben took his queen on the next move.
‘When I am, you must distance yourself from me,’ Ben said, though his heart ached at the thought. They’d had precious little time together before Cottsmoor died. Now he would lose the future he had hoped for and any chance to make amends for the past. But there was no alternative. ‘I want no stain on your reputation, because of my past behaviour.’
‘Do not worry about me,’ John said, taking a bishop. ‘If Cottsmoor taught me anything, it is that I am far above scandal, even when I am at the centre of it. Pay attention to the game, Ben. Check.’
Ben laughed in surprise and searched the board for his next move. ‘I do not know why I worry about you. You have obviously learned to take care of yourself without my help.’
‘But I appreciate that you do,’ the boy said quietly. ‘And I will not allow you to keep your distance to protect me. I have few friends. I cannot afford to lose you.’
‘Thank you, John.’ He smiled and tipped over his king. ‘I see mate in three. An excellent game.’
Pleased, the young Duke nodded. ‘Another?’
Ben began to set up the board again. ‘You must give me a chance to recover my pride.’ As if that was necessary. When he was with the boy, pride seemed to swell inside him like a lump in his throat that sometimes made it difficult to speak. He coughed to clear the roughness from the next words. ‘This time, I will take white, since you are near to my equal. But that is no surprise. Your father was an excellent chess player as well.’
‘Yes, he is,’ John said. ‘Yes, he is.’
Chapter Twenty-One
The trip to Cottsmoor took most of the day, what with stops for changes of horses and refreshment. The maid she had brought with her dozed silently in the seat opposite for most of the journey, for she knew well enough not to question the purpose of the trip.
Before she’d left, Amy had gone to her sister’s room, shaking her awake. ‘Belle. There is something I must tell you.’
The sleepy blonde head rose from the pillow to look at her.
‘I need to go somewhere, just for a day or two.’
‘You are leaving me alone?’ She was instantly awake, staring at Amy in terror.
‘Not alone, dear. Your maid will still be with you. And, of course, you can trust Mr Lovell.’
Belle shook her head at this, as though she’d rather do anything in the world other than that.
Amy squeezed her hand. ‘Do not be afraid of him. I am going on this journey because he and I discussed your future and how unhappy you are.’
‘You told him?’ At this, Belle looked even more frightened.
‘He understands. And we have found something that will help.’
Belle’s eyes went wide. ‘Are you going to tell Father? He will be angry.’
‘Not yet. When I get back from my trip, in a day, or perhaps two, I will go to him and explain. In the meantime, you must stay here. You must keep my secret until then.’
‘A secret?’ Belle smiled.
‘A good secret.’ Amy did her best to smile. ‘Now go back to sleep. I will see you again, very soon.’
It had been a lie. There was nothing good about the truths she was going to uncover. What she knew so far was sordid enough. If, as he had hinted, the rest was worse, she did not know if she wanted to hear it.
But the story was fascinating as well. There had been no pride in taking money to do what he had done. But it explained why his current credo was excellence in all things. He had made himself into the man he’d wanted to be and had never looked back.
Now she was entering the sleepy village of Cottsmoor, a place as far as she could imagine from the life that Benjamin Lovell aspired to. It took only a single enquiry at the local inn to learn that Mrs Lovell still lived in a small, rose-covered cottage on the edge of town.
Amy stared out of the carriage window at it, amazed. It was a pleasant little house with a nicely kept garden and a fresh coat of paint on the green front door. Compared to the house she had just left, it seemed so tiny. Though Ben did not spend lavishly, he certainly had the money to spare something for the woman who birthed him.
But neither did it appear that she lived in the poverty he’d hinted at. Perhaps there had been discreet gifts so that she could live in comfort and safety, even though he was not there to care for her.
She got out of the carriage and went up the neatly swept path, then rang the bell and waited.
A maid opened for her, who took only one curious glance at the Summoner carriage before offering refreshment and directing her to sit in the parlour to await the lady of the house.
When she entered the room, Amy had no doubt that she’d found the woman she sought. Though her hair was silver grey, Mrs Lovell had the same high cheekbones and piercing, dark eyes as her son. But there was also the faint cloud of sadness that she sometimes saw when Ben bothered to lower his guard. There was a wistfulness about this woman that spoke to a lost time that could never be regained.
‘Miss Summoner?’ Mrs Lovell greeted her with courtesy, but was obviously surprised by an unannounced visit from a total stranger.
‘Mrs Lovell.’ What was one supposed to say at a time like this? And would his mother even welcome the visit? ‘I am a friend of your son.’ It was not quite true, but it was ever so much easier than the truth.
But it was enough. Before she could say another word, the woman rushed to her side, reaching to take her hands. ‘You know my Benjamin? Do you have word from him? Was there a message?’
The look in response to the slight negative shake of Amy’s head was more desperate than she could have imagined.
‘It has been so long,’ she whispered, closing her eyes, as if in prayer. ‘Is he well?’
‘He is fine,’ Amy added quickly. By the sudden, relieved slump of the older woman’s shoulders, it appeared she had been worried that Amy had come to deliver news of his death.
‘He is a great man in London. He is welcome in the best homes and has many friends.’
Mrs Lovell squeezed her hands in gratitude, so moved that she could hardly speak. Then she whispered, ‘Tell me of him. Tell me everything. When did you see him? How did he look?’ She was clearly hungry for any scrap of information.
‘I saw him just last night,’ she admitted, hoping that her face did not reveal how it had been when they parted. ‘It was at a house party in his home in Kew. He is in excellent health, wealthy, well mannered and well respected. He is the most handsome man in London.’ And now she had been too effusive in her praise. She wet her lips, embarrassed to go on. ‘He is engaged to my sister.’
‘Oh.’ Mrs Lovell gave her a slow, probing look, as though reassessing everything she had suspected about the visit and Amy’s reason for making it. ‘But more importantly, is he happy?’
‘He’s not.’ It was the one question she was sure she knew the answer to.
‘Oh, dear,’ the other woman murmured. ‘Oh, dear. I knew, from the first moment that the Duke and his lascivious young wife got their claws in him that it would end in tears.’ Mrs Lovell shook her head.
Amy held her hands and led her to sit on the sofa by the fire. ‘He has told me only the most basic facts. But he sent me to you to learn the rest.’
‘He was a beautiful boy.’ She shook her head again. ‘He was not even eighteen, when that she-devil first saw him. The Duke was away in London, with friends of his own.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘He was no better than his wife and some might say worse.’
‘He had mistresses?’ Amy said, eyes wide.
The woman nodded. ‘And no interest in his duchess after the first boy was born.’
‘So she took a lover.’
Mrs Lovell shook her head in regret. �
��At first, he would come home from the manor with gold in his pocket and a smile on his face.’ Her face contorted with the shame of the memory. ‘I took the money he offered. His father died before Ben could learn a trade and left us with nothing. What was I to do?’
‘You had no choice,’ Amy agreed.
‘But then the visits became longer and longer. And when the Duke returned, rather than putting a stop to it, he encouraged it.’
‘He befriended him,’ Amy said.
‘He called him son.’ Mrs Lovell’s eyes narrowed in loathing. ‘Andrew Lovell was a good man. An honest man. When I heard that Ben was claiming that old reprobate as father, I gave him the lecture he deserved. And rather than beg forgiveness for his proud ways, he moved to the great house and did not come back.’ By the time she had finished, tears of regret were running down the older woman’s face.
‘And the Duke allowed him to live there, with his family.’ She offered the woman her handkerchief.
‘They kept my son like a pet. And when I saw him after that, he was riding through the village in the Duke’s carriage, dressed like a gentleman. Or side by side on horseback with that red-headed succubus of a duchess, talking French and laughing at her jokes.’ She gave a shudder of distaste. ‘No matter how hard he laughed, I could see he was not happy. But when he saw me...’ She flinched again. ‘He looked right through me.’
‘And he did not come home, even after the old Duke died?’ He must have known how he’d hurt her. How could he have left his mother to suffer?
She shook her head. ‘By then, it was too late. After what they gave him, he was too good to come home to me.’
‘I am sure it was not that,’ Amy said and paused, remembering the bleakness in his voice as he had told her his story. ‘I think he was ashamed.’
‘I would have forgiven him for what he had done,’ Mrs Lovell said, her lip trembling. ‘And I did not care what people might say, when they saw us together.’
‘What did they say to you?’
‘If they thought he was Cottsmoor’s son, then I must have been his whore.’
It was true. While society might forgive a man his natural birth, it was seldom so charitable to the women who bore the bastards. ‘Surely, after all this time, the scandal is old news,’ she said. Perhaps in this village. But when she told it in London, it would be a nine-days’ wonder.
‘It has been more than fifteen years.’ Mrs Lovell nodded. ‘Both the Duke and Duchess are gone to judgement and cannot hurt him, or anyone else, ever again.’
‘And their son,’ Amy agreed. Then she paused, adding the years in her head. ‘You say it has been fifteen years?’
‘Or more,’ Mrs Lovell replied. ‘Would you like to see a picture of my boy? The Duchess had a miniature painted of him shortly after he went to her.’ She made a face at the mention of the other woman, but smiled as she reached for the chain around her neck to unfasten it.
‘When she died, he mailed it to me.’ Now the woman who had raised him lifted her head in defiance. ‘He sent me money as well. More than I would ever need. I do not spend it. I do not want money. All I want is to see him once more and to hear from his own lips that he is well.’ She shook her head and released a watery sigh as she handed Amy the locket.
She opened it to see just what she had known would be there. At first glance, she would have assumed it was a painting of the young Duke of Cottsmoor. But a closer look proved the young man in the miniature was three or four years older than the Duke. The painter had managed to capture the distant look in the eyes of this boy that she saw in her own beloved Ben.
He had said there were secrets that he was bound by honour not to tell. This was surely what he meant. But was it a secret if the world knew but refused to believe? It did not matter who Cottsmoor’s true father might be. The acknowledged son of a duke was the Duke’s son, and therefore also a duke. But the embarrassment of rumour might be enough to separate Ben from his young friend for good.
If he lost a son because of her, he could regain a mother. ‘He is still just as handsome as this.’ Amy handed her the locket back. ‘Would you like to see him?’
The older woman stared hungrily down at the picture in her hand as if wishing would bring him live to her doorstep. ‘There would be no sweeter gift than to have my boy back,’ Mrs Lovell murmured. ‘Even if it is only for a little while.’
‘Suppose I could give you that?’ Amy said, feeling half-hopeful, half-guilty. ‘I will take you to him, this very day, if that is what you wish.’
‘Please,’ the woman said, squeezing the locket tight in her hand.
‘We will go as soon as you are ready. But you must do me one favour in return.’ Amy held her breath, hating what she was about to do.
‘Anything.’ Mrs Lovell leaned forward in her chair as if ready to leave with just the clothes on her back.
‘When we arrive in London, you must tell my father the story you have just told me. Immediately after, I will take you to Ben. And then he will take you home.’ He would have to, for it would be too humiliating to remain in London. Would the woman beside her still be so eager to go if she knew that their visit might be the first step in ruining her son’s life?
Chapter Twenty-Two
Now that there was nothing to do but wait for his plan to come to fruition, the hours seemed to drag so slowly that the clock might have been standing still. Although what he was waiting for, he was not sure.
It was unlikely that he would hear anything at all until he returned to London at the end of the week. It would take a day for Amy to reach Cottsmoor and another to return to London. Once there, she would learn that her father knew the truth and was not planning to use it. She would have to find another way.
She was sensible enough to take the story to the person who could do the most damage with it. A patroness at Almack’s would be an excellent choice. Soon, there would be one of those horrible stories in the papers about Mr L., the late Duchess of C. and the broken heart of the beautiful Miss S. In no time at all, the Summoner family would close ranks against him, and the rest of the ton would cast him out.
Was it really so wrong of him to hope that, once she had learned the whole sordid story, Amy would love him enough to follow him into exile? It was doubtful that she would come back to the man who had supposedly broken Belle’s heart. Her first concern had always been for her sister.
No matter what might transpire, he would be the one to hurt her. He was doing the best thing for Belle, just as he had promised. There was nothing left to do but wait for the inevitable.
Thank God, there were no activities planned for the guests today. After his spectacular failure as host on the previous evening, he was at a loss as to how he might recover the goodwill of his friends. In fact, all of them save John could go to the devil. Since John had gone riding after beating him three times at the chessboard, Ben wanted nothing more than an afternoon of solitude.
Perhaps there was a book in the library that was not too melancholy and could fill the last few hours before dinner.
As he opened the door to the room there was a sudden rustling, as though it had taken a flurry of activity to change whatever had been going on into a scene acceptable to prying eyes. Which made him wonder just what he had interrupted, for Guy Templeton was seated on the leather sofa far too close to his fiancée, holding both of her hands in his. The tails of his cravat hung loose down the front of his waistcoat.
Belle’s gown and hair were dishevelled and her cheeks were flushed, but it was hard to tell if it was from passion, or simply because she was weeping, openly, loudly and in a most unattractive and unladylike way.
‘Templeton? Explain yourself.’ Ben squared his shoulders, hoping he would not have to challenge his friend because of an unsatisfactory answer. It was even more annoying that his own anger at this scene was little mo
re than a gentlemanly reflex and had nothing to do with any possessive affection for Belle.
‘What have I done?’ Guy looked at him with a frown and raised eyebrow, as if it was possible to lay the tragedy, whatever it was, at Ben’s doorstep.
‘He wants to go away,’ Belle said, with another sob.
Templeton put a consoling hand on her shoulder and glared defiantly back at Ben as if daring him to demand its removal.
‘Back home?’ Ben said, surprised by her reaction. ‘It is hardly the end of the world. He lives less than a mile from here. When you come to live with me, we will visit him often.’ Not that it was likely she would be here, once Amy had finished with him.
‘Actually, I was thinking of something a bit further away,’ Templeton said calmly. ‘I have been trying to explain to Belle that Virginia is not something that one can come and go from like taking the mail coach to Bath.’
Now it was Ben who was shocked. ‘Are you mad? We are at war.’
‘And they are likely in need of soldiers for it,’ Templeton said with finality.
‘You mean to buy a commission?’
‘If that is what is necessary. The alternative is that she comes away with me to Gretna Green, immediately. But we have not got that far in the discussion because I made her cry with my other plan.’ Templeton seemed more frustrated with his own ineptitude than the girl’s lack of understanding.
But Belle brightened immediately at being presented with an alternative. ‘Then I will go to the Green place with you. Why are we going there?’
‘So he can marry you,’ Ben said, calmly.
She smiled in relief. ‘I would rather marry you than Mr Lovell. Let us go right now, before Amy comes back to stop me.’ It did not seem to occur to her that Ben might have reason to stop the elopement, as well.
‘I do not know if you can marry me, now that Ben has heard our plans,’ Templeton explained gently. ‘Our going to Gretna was to be a surprise for him.’
‘I’m sorry if I spoiled it,’ Belle said, looking truly contrite.
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