Compromising Miss Milton
Page 13
Adam stared at Heritage for a long moment. It was not beyond the bounds of possibility that one of the gang had been greedy. And Carlisle would suit his purpose. It would prove a distraction, and Daisy would be perfectly safe with Webster to watch over her. But why did Heritage want him to go? Did he have any part in this affair? Adam shook his head. He was becoming worse than the young Miss Blandish for inventing things.
Chapter Nine
A distinct drizzle soaked Daisy’s bonnet, obscuring her view of the gorge. She glanced over her shoulder. Adam’s valet still shadowed her. Ever since she had arrived at Shaw’s yesterday afternoon, every time she set foot out of her suite, Webster was there, waiting. Adam had disappeared off to Carlisle, leaving only a short note and her new unwanted bodyguard.
The annoying thing was that in the drizzle, he looked a bit like the man she had encountered on the river bank. What if Webster had had something to do with the attack? It had been known to happen before, a disgruntled servant deciding to dispose of his master. Daisy pulled the brim of her bonnet forwards. She was becoming worse than Nella.
‘Mr Webster,’ she called out.
‘Yes, miss.’ He was there within an instant. ‘Is anything wrong? Would you like to return to the hotel? Have you had enough of the countryside?’
‘If I promise not to throw myself down any cliffs or take a sudden interest in the river, do you think I might be able to go for a quiet walk on my own? You appear to dislike the scenery.’
‘The master gave his orders.’ Webster looked down his thin nose. ‘I value my wage. There are a lot of men who would be glad of the salary.’
‘Then will you walk with me?’
‘That wouldn’t be right, miss. You know that.’
‘It was only a possible solution.’ Daisy sighed. She knew the fine demarcations between master and servant and had often sought to maintain her position, but just now, she wanted to talk. ‘Very well, I will return to my suite.’
‘It is for the best, miss. It is not a good walk, that one. When we were here last summer, I found it very tedious. Far too much “nature”.’
‘Why were you here last summer?’
‘Railways, miss. Lord Ravensworth is involved in financing the Newcastle-to-Carlisle railway and there were problems. Lord Ravensworth thinks the railway will make Gilsland Spa into a holiday destination.’
‘You don’t approve.’
‘I think folks should stay where they belong. It keeps everything tidy. They were right to site the railway at Rosehill rather than at the Spa.’
Daisy drew in a breath. ‘And does Lord Ravensworth agree?’
‘Lord Ravensworth is a law unto himself.’
‘But you enjoy working for him.’
‘Yes, miss, I do. His lordship is most at home in the lights of London. He will never live anywhere else, he says. And I agree wholeheartedly with the sentiment. The day he moves to the countryside is the day I give my notice.’ Webster looked pointedly back at the hotel. ‘Are you going to go back? The gorge is…well…countryside.’
Daisy clung on to her temper. There was little point in taking out her ire on Webster. It was his master who needed to understand. She had looked after herself for six years and she could be trusted in a crisis, but she was no society hostess and London was another world.
* * *
‘I’m satisfied that the cane is yours, Lord Ravensworth,’ the Carlisle magistrate pronounced from his wing-backed chair. He gestured towards his clerk and the silver-topped cane was placed back in Adam’s hands.
Adam took it. ‘And the finder? What of him? Was he one of the gang?’
‘Lord Chesterholm vouched for him. He is a simple farm worker who stumbled across the cane while digging ditches.’
Adam pressed his lips together. It was all very convenient. And this entire trip was an exercise in frustration. What was worse was that his mind kept wandering back to Daisy. He wanted to know what she was doing and what she was thinking. Hopefully she’d been sensible and stayed with Webster. He turned to leave.
‘Ravensworth!’ a deep voice called out.
‘Ponsby-Smythe, what brings you north? I thought your family was in Warwickshire.’
‘My great-uncle died and I inherited his estate as well his title. Had to change my name to Fanshawe, but then I get the lot.’ Lord Chesterholm gave a wry smile. ‘It kept the peace and for a few short months my late wife enjoyed the trappings as well as the title.’
‘But how did your man find the cane?’
‘My great-uncle tried to knock down all the Roman remains around his house, but I find them fascinating. I am determined to prove that it was actually Hadrian who built the wall. We were out digging in one of the mile castles when my man came across that cane. It could have lain in that ditch for years.’
‘It is good that your man turned it in. There are many who would be tempted.’
‘He’s a good lad. Once he showed it to me, I recognised the crest. How could I forget the fencing lessons we took together at Angelo’s? It was obvious to whom the cane belonged. And then I heard about the attack. Any leads?’
‘It was a bad business. I had hoped finding this cane would provide one, but it has been a nearly wasted journey.’
‘That’s a shame.’
‘Although I have been able to visit a modiste. I intend to marry the woman who saved me, but she needs a new wardrobe.’
‘And who is this paragon of virtue?’
‘A governess. Daisy Milton. I doubt you will have encountered her.’
‘It rings a faint bell, but I don’t think my stepmother ever employed her. It will come to me.’ Chesterholm stopped and paled slightly. ‘I know where I heard the name. She was poor Louisa’s bluestocking friend.’
‘Louisa?’
‘A governess I once knew, but unfortunately she died in a curricle crash. I was too ill to attend the funeral. I never remembered a thing about her being in the carriage until Clarissa and my mother finally plucked up the courage between them to tell me.’
‘I am sorry.’
‘It was years ago. Never knew what I had until she was gone. It seemed only natural to marry Clarissa then.’ Chesterholm’s brow darkened. ‘Are you sure your Miss Milton will like the clothes?’
‘What woman would not? It is the same as outfitting a mistress. She will be in ecstasy.’
‘Ravensworth, you have a lot to learn about wives. Miss Milton, if it is the same one, was a regular bluestocking. Far too fond of her poetry for my liking. Do give her my regards, though.’
‘I will take that advice under consideration.’ With that, Adam turned the conversation towards the exact location where the cane had been found and how it had been placed.
* * *
Daisy, dressed in her most severe grey gown, regarded Shaw’s terraced gardens from her sitting-room window. The sunlight on the morning dew caused the whole scene to be lit like a jewel case.
Behind her, nearly every surface of the room was covered in boxes. Frothy lace and ribbons spilled on to the dressing table. A whole array of off-the-peg gowns occupied the sofa. Daisy had lost count of the petticoats, stays and other unmentionables, the dancing slippers and other dainty shoes, instead of her practical boots. All had arrived from Carlisle. All sent at Lord Ravensworth’s order without regard to what she might want.
The worst thing was that some of the gowns were ones she had sighed over in Miss Blandish’s fashion magazines.
Her hand crumpled the paper and tossed it down to join the growing pile of spoilt letters. She had lost count of how many times she had attempted to write to Felicity since she had arrived at the Shaw’s yesterday and how many times she had been unable to find the precise wording. She who had proclaimed loudest about her independence had sacrificed it all because of a fright over a half-remembered tale.
Her current predicament defied all explanation. No. It would be better to write the letter after she had informed Adam of her intention to jilt him at
the earliest opportunity. Felicity was less likely to be concerned when presented with a fait accompli.
‘I trust you find everything to your satisfaction. I regret that I was unable to be here when you arrived, but I had to chase up a lead. My cane was found in a ditch near Carlisle.’ Adam lounged in the doorway, a faint smile on his face. His face was all planes and angles. ‘Do say that you will forgive me.’
Daisy swallowed hard and tried not to think about his mouth. Or that they were alone in a hotel room. Or that her dreams last night had been full of him and how his lips had moved on her skin. Daisy clasped her hands in front of her and attempted to ignore the surge of heat that flooded through her.
‘Lord Edward explained that you had business to attend to,’ she replied carefully. ‘He was most attentive. He kept asking about my brother and his last days when we took tea in the parlour. He appears to think I was Tom’s only living relation.’
‘Did you disabuse him of the notion?’ Adam’s cane stopped swinging and his eyes narrowed.
‘I want to keep my sister safe,’ Daisy said. ‘As it was a public place, I changed the subject.’
‘Ah, yes. Your fabled common sense. It is good that I can depend on you to use it.’ He came into the room, making it seem small.
‘I rather thought you would have waited…’ Daisy winced as she said the words. They sounded needy.
‘Finding the men who attacked me is my first priority. Once the mystery is solved, we can begin to lead our lives again.’
Lead our lives again. The words echoed in her head. Would she ever be able to lead her life again, in the way she wanted to?
‘Did you find anything worthwhile in Carlisle?’ she asked.
He waved a dismissive hand. ‘It came to nothing. But as I was fond of the cane, I am pleased to have recovered it.’ He paused and his eyes glinted with mischief. ‘I would have preferred to find my boots, though.’
‘I suspect your boots are at the bottom of the Irthing. Webster agrees with me.’
‘I met an old admirer of yours. Jonathon Fanshaw, Lord Chesterholm.’ At her puzzled expression, he added. ‘Until recently he was Ponsby-Smythe.’
‘He is no friend of mine!’ Indignation rose in Daisy’s breast. ‘He is a callous seducer. My friend Louisa was forced to leave the country after he was finished with her. She currently resides in the Kingdom of Two Sicilies.’
‘He thinks Louisa died in a curricle crash.’
‘He is wrong!’ Daisy went to her letter box, and waved a piece of paper in the air. ‘I received a letter from her two days ago. She is in Sorrento with two ladies. Ponsby-Smythe was a heartless seducer.’
‘He remembers you with admiration. You and your feminine charm.’
Daisy clasped her hands together and attempted to control her racing pulse. Adam had discussed her with Jonathon Ponsby-Smythe.
‘I would expect your attackers are long gone from here.’ Daisy resolutely turned her gaze to the window again. She had to keep the topic on sensible subjects. ‘They must know you are looking for them if they remain in the area.’
‘Then who ransacked the schoolroom? And why? Don’t you want to know?’
Daisy swung around. His clothes fit him all too well and there was an air of smug elegance about him.
‘If I knew that, I would not be engaged to you.’ Daisy opted for a sharp answer, which only appeared to amuse him more. She gestured towards where the boxes overflowed with lace and half-finished gowns. ‘And would not be faced with all this.’
‘I wondered when you would mention your new wardrobe.’ His gaze raked her gown. ‘It was brought to my attention that your attire was lacking in certain feminine attributes. And as I was in Carlisle, I went into a bazaar and ordered a few items.’
‘A few items! You have purchased an entire wardrobe, a wardrobe fit for…well…not fit for a governess.’
‘The fiancée of a viscount must dress differently from a governess. The point is obvious.’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘I have braved a modiste’s establishment before. Ladies’ garments hold no fear.’
‘What is right for a mistress…’ Daisy put her hands on her hips. Been to a modiste’s before. Of course he had. Undoubtedly with a simpering, perfumed and perfectly coiffured woman at his side breathlessly choosing the garments that he would later take off. She hated thinking about all the sophisticated women he had helped dress and undress. All these clothes did was to underline her inadequacies, the reasons why a marriage between them would fail.
‘Humour me on this, Daisy.’ He waved a hand towards the boxes. ‘Do what you will with them, but you are to wear suitable clothes. And I could not decide on the gloves. I owe you a pair and so a selection of Hexham tans have been sent. A fiancée may accept a pair of gloves.’
‘A pair of gloves, but not a wardrobe!’
‘And here I thought all women loved to be spoilt.’ A muscle jumped in his cheek. ‘Most women would breathlessly say oh, Adam, thank you for thinking of me. Thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule.’
Daisy twisted her fingers into her gown’s material. She longed to wipe the arrogant smile from his face. He had assumed that she would adore the clothes without even bothering to discover her tastes, treating her like some fancy pet. Throughout her years as a governess she had seen how women could be marginalised and reduced to mere ornaments, worrying about nothing more than shell pictures and pin cushions. She had always vowed that it would not happen to her.
Daisy straightened her skirt, making sure the folds of the gown fell evenly to the floor, the very picture of propriety.
Two could play games. He had not won. She would make him see her as a person rather than as a doll. ‘I thank you for the gloves, but have no need of—’
‘It is all about playing the part, Daisy. Try them on.’ He paused. ‘I have engaged a lady’s maid for you. A cousin of the innkeeper’s. She is reputed to have some skill with hair. She should arrive this morning. The innkeeper’s daughter is rushed off her feet as it is. Hopefully, though, she helped you with dressing.’
‘I am used to dressing on my own. My hairstyle is quite simple. I have never had a need for assistance.’
‘Sometimes, we can all use the help.’ He looked pointedly at the various undergarments.
Daisy wished she had drawn her hair tightly into her usual governess style, instead of giving into a whim and allowing a few ringlets at her temples. ‘My hair! What is wrong with my hair?’
She waited, knowing that she sounded about Nella’s age, but it was the principle. It was her hair and her life. He had to see that her opinions mattered.
‘It is charming, but perhaps it could do with a few refinements.’ He inclined his head. ‘Both the haberdasher and the modiste gave me to understand that you would require a maid if you wore this Season’s styles. Helpless as a babe.’
Daisy pressed her palms against her eyes. ‘Are the clothes even the right size?’
‘The maid is very nimble with her fingers, or so her uncle assures me. You both may spend the day going through the items, deciding how you wish to make them your own.’
Daisy stared at him, astonished. She was to have a maid, but no say about whom she employed. It reminded her so much of Felicity’s marriage. Her husband had dominated and domineered and the only time Felicity had dared oppose him was when she had fought for Kammie.
‘And if I choose to spend my time in another way?’
‘Do not even think about trying to find these men. You have enough to do.’ Adam’s presence filled the room. She would only have to stretch out a hand to touch his frock coat. She twisted her fingers around the grey fabric of her gown. ‘I wish my fiancée to show her vibrant personality, instead of seeming like a staid old maid. You have a part to play, Daisy.’
Play a part. Staid. The words washed over her like a cold bath. He wanted to control her life and leave nothing to chance. If she allowed it, she would become the same sort of pale insipid creature that Felicity
had been before her husband had died. No man would rule her. She had made that vow years ago. Independence of mind and body. If she started compromising, all her brave words would mean nothing.
Daisy strode purposefully over to the writing desk. She had spent years teaching reluctant pupils their sums and the finer points of English history. She would get her own way in the end.
‘You must allow me to pay for my room here. I am quite content to take a small backroom, perhaps one that a maid might use. And the maid… I believe I can stretch to her wages. I have no wish to disgrace you.’ Silently she prayed that this charade would not have to go on long. Once the men were caught and captured, she would break the engagement. It would no longer be a necessity. It was quite the best solution. ‘But I have no wish to become a kept woman.’
‘No one would ever mistake you for a kept woman. There is something about you that screams—governess.’ He leant forwards, his eyes gleaming. ‘You will never be my mistress, but one day soon you will be my lover, Daisy.’
‘Adam Ravensworth, there are certain proprieties!’
‘You are back to using my last name. You must be very displeased with me or perhaps you wish me to kiss you again. Did you miss me that much?’
His hand touched the inside of her wrist. No more than a whisper, but it sent a warm pulse down her spine. Daisy resisted the urge to lean into the touch. One single touch and her body melted. She glanced up to the ceiling and strove for a calm outlook. She needed to regain control of this conversation. Immediately. Things needed to be said between them, boundaries established, and speaking about becoming his lover definitely crossed all sorts of boundaries.
‘Lord Raven…’ She paused and regained her composure. ‘Adam, then, we must be sensible. I have no wish to be a prisoner. Nor to be beholden to you. It is no way to behave. I have my self-respect. I have worked long and hard for my independence.’
‘You have rehearsed this speech, Daisy.’ He settled himself into the wing back armchair, crossed his legs. ‘And as no doubt you have spent a great deal of time and expended a considerable amount of energy on it, I will do you the courtesy of listening to it.’