by Mary Nichols
‘It was, my lord. He bade me report to you.’
‘Then tell me what you have discovered.’
Ash repeated the account he had given to the Piccadilly Gentlemen the day before, once again omitting mention of Nathaniel Kingslake. ‘Today I went with Captain Carstairs to Lloyds to make enquiries about the Sally Ann,’ he said. ‘The cutter is registered in London, but it has a consortium of owners and appears to be legitimate.’
‘Is Sir Felix one of the owners?’
‘Yes, but that proves nothing.’
‘Even though you found smuggled goods in his cellar?’
‘He would undoubtedly swear he did not know they were there, just as the parson could swear he did not know there was an anker or two of brandy under his pulpit.’
‘Where is the Sally Ann now?’
‘At sea. She normally plies between London and Amsterdam when on legal business and according to my information is due back in London two days’ hence. If she is laden with contraband, she could put in somewhere else first, although I doubt her master will use Narbeach again so soon. Short of knowing where that might be, I shall wait for her to arrive in London and question the crew.’
‘Good. Good.’
‘The trouble is that Miss Kingslake is writing a novel about smugglers and has fixed on learning all she can about them in the name of research. I fear she is determined to find the Sally Ann herself.’
‘Good God, man! She must not be allowed to interfere. Nor must she write a book glorifying smuggling. It is the last thing we need.’
‘I do not see how she can be prevented. This is a free country.’
‘You are supposed to be adroit with the ladies. Put her off, use your wiles. I will ask my lady to amuse her, take her out and about in society. She could do with a little diversion, she is too serious by far. It comes from having to grow up too quickly after her parents died, I think.’
Ash smiled crookedly. It was all very well for Lord Trentham to tell him to use his wiles, but he was far from impervious to the lady’s own wiles and he could end up hoist on his own petard. What an ignominious end for a rake!
They returned to the ladies, where they spent several minutes in polite but meaningless conversation, which ended with Lord Trentham suggesting Pippa might like to accompany him and Eleanor to Lady Portman’s musical soirée the following night. ‘I believe you go, Sir Ashley,’ he said, almost as an afterthought. ‘Perhaps you will make up a four.’
‘It will be my pleasure.’ Though he smiled at all three, Ash’s eyes were on Pippa. He must make her understand that her involvement in his investigation was both unwelcome and dangerous, but he was half-afraid that telling her not to do something was tantamount to an open invitation. ‘I look forward to seeing you there, Miss Kingslake.’
He was aware, as he strode home along Pall Mall, that he had displeased Pippa. She had hardly said a word to him, as if it were his fault Lord Trentham had taken him off for a private conversation. If his lordship did not see fit to tell her what had passed between them, it was not for him to enlighten her. Why, oh, why had she taken it into her head to come to London? And why was he so inordinately pleased to see her in spite of that? With the solid, but odorous pavement beneath his feet, he felt as though he were walking along the edge of a precipice and might topple over at any moment.
And there was Arabella; she was becoming an embarrassment and he was seriously displeased to think she might have been putting the word about that he had proposed to her. He must see her and put an end to their liaison; it would be as well to have the customary costly present to give her when he did. He changed direction so suddenly he sent a little urchin flying. Picking him up and dusting him down, he gave him a sixpence and hurried away in search of a jeweller.
Chapter Six
Mrs Arabella Thornley had a small house in the Hay-market, where Ash had installed her six months before. Because of his wealth and consequence, she had an exaggerated notion of her own importance and liked to queen it over others of her ilk who inhabited neighbouring properties. She had furnished it extravagantly, but he did not mind that; he had never been other than generous to his light o’ loves. She had a maid and a housekeeper and the use of a phaeton whenever she wanted to go out. And for that she was expected to keep herself exclusively for him. That in no way gave her rights over what he did or how often he visited. Besides his work for the Piccadilly Gentlemen, he had a busy social life and had to maintain his character as a rake or everyone would be wondering what had happened to reform him, but he had always been faithful to his current mistress while she lasted.
Arabella knew all this; he had made no secret of it when he first met her and she had laughingly agreed, telling him they should both consider themselves free as air. But she had changed, become possessive and jealous and constantly hinted that he ought to make an honest woman of her. Until Jonathan saw fit to warn him, he had had no idea she had been telling everyone he intended to do just that. He had to put a stop to it. He went up the steps of Bella’s house and let himself in.
Arabella was lying languidly on a sofa, dressed in a diaphanous undress robe which left little to the imagination. She was not alone. Ash paused in the doorway of the salon, considering whether to turn round and go out again without speaking, but decided not to. He bowed to her and then to the young exquisite who was sitting on a stool at her feet, feeding her sweetmeats. It stiffened his resolve to end his affair with her.
‘Ash!’ She almost choked on the sticky sweet as she scrambled into a sitting position. ‘I did not expect you.’
‘That much I can tell, my dear,’ he said. ‘Pray, do present me to your friend.’
‘Antony Kirbey. Sir Ashley Saunders,’ she said, waving a plump arm at each of them.
‘How do ’ee do?’ Kirbey said, rising from the stool to bow.
‘I do very well,’ Ash said. ‘And shall do a great deal better for your absence.’
‘Just leaving, sir, just leaving.’ He grabbed his hat and cane from a chair and scuttled away.
Ash watched him go and then turned back to Arabella, who was looking mulish. ‘Do not be angry with me, sweetheart,’ she said. ‘I was bored, you have been gone so long and he was so persistent.’
‘I have been gone a week, no more. If you cannot stand a week’s separation, then there is no sense in pursuing our arrangement. You knew the conditions…’
‘I am sorry. It won’t happen again.’ She stood up and attempted to wind her arms about his neck. ‘You know it is only you I love. Tony is only a boy and means nothing to me.’
‘Then you should not tease him,’ he said, disengaging her arms and standing back from her. Her perfume was overwhelming. He was quite sure he had not bought it for her; he had better taste.
‘Oh, he doesn’t mind it. I shall give him his congé.’
‘Please do not stop seeing him on my account,’ Ash told her. ‘I shall not be coming here again.’
‘Ash,’ she wailed. ‘You do not mean it. Not for one silly mistake.’
‘It is more than that. You have taken too much for granted, assumed things you should not have assumed and that I will not endure.’
‘What do you mean?’ She was looking worried.
‘You have been telling people we are to be married.’
‘I never said that, not in those words. I only hinted that we were very close. I cannot help it if people jump to conclusions…’
‘Then you had better set them right. We have had our good times, I grant you, but it is time to move on. There is no sense in dragging it out.’
‘You have found someone else!’ she said suddenly. ‘You are using poor Tony as an excuse to be rid of me.’
‘No, there is no one,’ he said firmly, though he was aware that there was more than a grain of truth in what she said. ‘I shall continue to pay your household bills for the next three months. I am sure by that time you will have found a new protector. I doubt Mr Antony Kirbey can afford you.’ And wit
h that he turned and left her. He could hear her stamping her feet and using the most unladylike language as he went down the stairs.
‘You will be sorry for this, Ashley Saunders,’ she shouted. ‘I have not finished with you yet.’
Poor Arabella! He did not think for one minute he had broken her heart, but they had been together in harmony for six months, rather longer than usual, and he had enjoyed her at first. Perhaps he had been a little too hard on her. He would not go back, but he could still send her the pretty ruby-and-diamond brooch he had bought her, which was still in his pocket.
Pippa, walking up the stairs of Lord Portman’s mansion between William and Eleanor, never felt less like going to a soirée; she was too wound up about Nat and wondering how much Sir Ashley had told William. It was all very well to swear Eleanor to secrecy, but supposing Sir Ashley had revealed all? After all, why should he protect her? And why should she be in such a fluster over meeting him at a social gathering? Had Eleanor been right, that he was known as a rake and yet accepted in society? It was one rule for the men and another for the ladies. This Arabella Thornley, for instance—did he love her? According to the gentleman himself, he did. And would she say they were to be wed, if they were not? Surely no woman would invent something like that. She wondered how to behave towards him. Could she be cool and distant when her heart was clamouring in her breast at the mere thought of seeing him? Traitorous, traitorous heart.
They reached the top of the stairs where Lord Portman and his wife, Rosamund, waited to receive them. William presented her. She curtsied.
‘You are very welcome, Miss Kingslake,’ her ladyship said. ‘Eleanor, it is very remiss of you. You did not tell me you had so handsome a cousin or we would have asked to be made known to her long before now.’
‘I live in Norfolk and do not often come to town,’ Pippa said, pleased by the compliment. Eleanor had insisted on giving her one of her gowns, since she had not brought a suitable gown with her, and they had spent most of the previous day altering it to fit. Made of figured cream silk over a wide padded underskirt, it had an echelle stomacher with rows of satin bows from the square neckline to the pointed waist which showed off the curves of her bosom and narrow waist to advantage. Only her fiery hair refused to be entirely tamed; Teresa was not as adept at arranging it as Babette.
‘Now you are here we must see more of you. Do join the others. We shall be with you when we have greeted everyone.’
They strolled into the crowded room. Pippa looked about her, searching out a particular tall figure, but she could not see him even though she was sure he would stand out in any crowd. Perhaps he had decided not to come. Her disappointment was profound, but she was not allowed to brood on it, because Eleanor guided her round the room, introducing her to everyone.
She was standing talking to Viscount Leinster and his lovely wife, Louise, when she sensed someone behind her. She twisted round. ‘Oh, Sir Ashley, you startled me.’
He was magnificent in black and white: his long coat was of black velvet, his waistcoat white figured brocade, his breeches and stockings white, tied at the knee with black ribbons. Unlike many of the guests who sported a variety of wigs, he wore his own hair, tied back in a queue with a narrow black ribbon. The ensemble made him seem taller and more powerful than ever.
‘I am sorry,’ he said, sweeping her an extravagant bow. ‘You were so engrossed in your conversation with Lady Leinster, I did not wish to interrupt.’
‘We were only speaking of the great crush,’ Louise said, looking from one to the other. ‘I can see you already know Miss Kingslake.’
‘Yes, indeed. We met in Norfolk.’
‘Ah, yes, I collect you have a country seat there. Is that where you have been hiding yourself this past week?’
‘I have not been hiding, my lady. On the contrary, I have been here, there and everywhere.’
‘We met in Narbeach,’ Pippa put in. ‘It is where I live.’
‘Narbeach! But isn’t that where—?’ She stopped suddenly and looked up at Ash.
‘Yes,’ he put in. ‘It has been in the news of late on account of a smugglers’ landing.’
‘Did you see anything of it, Miss Kingslake?’ Louise asked.
‘One could not fail to be aware of it,’ she answered carefully. ‘There were so many there and when the dragoons arrived, a great deal of noise.’
‘The smugglers are becoming too bold,’ Jonathan said. ‘People go in fear of their lives when they are about. Only last week—’ He stopped. ‘No, it is not a subject for the drawing room.’
‘You are too bad,’ his wife said. ‘Giving out hints and then not telling us. It is not fair.’
‘The tale is too gruesome for ladies’ ears,’ he said.
‘I agree,’ Ash said. ‘We will speak no more of it. Suffice to say the perpetrators will be found and dealt with.’
They were joined by Lord and Lady Portman. His lordship was a jovial, good-natured man and they were all soon laughing at his repartee, in which Ash joined with consummate ease. It was only Pippa who felt the strain of trying to be bright and cheerful when she was so worried about Nat. Had something dreadful happened to him? Did Sir Ashley know? She glanced across at him, in the middle of telling some monstrous tale about a mad marquis, which was holding his audience in thrall. She was unlikely to have any private conversation with him on this occasion and trying to engineer it would most certainly cause comment.
There was to be music and supper later and chairs had been grouped about a harp and a spinet in an adjoining room, but before they all trooped in to listen to it, the ladies went to a room set aside for them to repair their toilettes.
‘Are you enjoying your evening?’ Eleanor asked Pippa, patting her wig, which was flawless.
‘Yes, or I would be if I were not so worried about Nat. When Lord Leinster spoke of some dreadful deed and would not tell the rest, I was afraid it might have been Nat.’
‘Goodness, why should that be?’
‘I do not know. And the way Sir Ashley said whoever did it would be punished, made me think he had the power to do it, though he told me he had no authority to arrest anyone.’
‘Nor has he. But he is a member the Piccadilly Gentlemen’s Club.’
‘What is that to the point? There are gentlemen’s clubs every where.’
‘Not like this one. Its proper name is the Society for the Discovery and Apprehending of Criminals.’
Pippa gasped. ‘They are thieftakers!’
‘You could say that, but unlike some, they are honest and they take no money. They meet regularly in our house and report to William if it is something concerning national security.’
‘And I told Sir Ashley all about Nat!’ She was reeling from the shock of realising how easily she had been duped. ‘No doubt he has told William. Oh, how stupid I have been.’ She gave a hollow laugh. ‘And I swore you to secrecy. How unnecessary that was. Why didn’t you tell me this before? Is it a secret society?’
‘Not secret, but they do not boast of what they do. William says it is easier to do their work if they are not well known. But I do not think you need worry, I am sure William would have told me if Sir Ashley had said anything to him about Nathaniel.’ Eleanor paused. ‘But, you know, if Nathaniel is mixed up in something bad and Ash does not report it, he will be compromising his integrity as a member of the club.’
‘I did not know that, did I?’ Pippa said in anguish. ‘He encouraged me to tell him, made me feel I could trust him…’
‘So you can.’ Eleanor smiled. ‘With anything but your heart.’
Pippa looked sharply at her. ‘What do you mean by that?’
‘Oh, Pippa, I have seen the way you look at him, as if you would like to swallow him whole. You could be badly hurt. He is vastly handsome and superior and all the young ladies swoon over him at some time or other, all thinking they can cure him of his rakish ways, but he is impervious…’ She turned to Viscountess Leinster who had just entered the room.
‘Louise, do you know how Sir Ashley got his reputation as a rake?’
‘No, but in my opinion it is undeserved. He only has one mistress at a time and he certainly never dallies with single ladies. You are quite safe, Miss Kingslake.’ Which was not what Pippa wanted to hear.
The ladies finished tidying themselves and went back to the music room, where the gentlemen had saved seats for them. Pippa found herself sitting between Ash and William.
‘You have been gone an unconscionable time,’ Ash whispered, as the musicians prepared to play. ‘I was beginning to fear you had walked out on me.’
‘I was talking to Eleanor,’ she whispered back. ‘It was a very enlightening conversation.’
‘How so?’
‘Shh,’ she said, as the music began and those who had been chatting fell silent.
Pippa was as silent as everyone else, but she hardly heard what was being played. She was acutely aware of Ash beside her, his knee with its black ribbons, brushing against her skirt, his arm touching hers, his head tilted to one side in a listening gesture. How could a man be so attractive, so gallant, so utterly desirable and be so duplicitous? What had Eleanor said? Trust him with anything but your heart. The terrible truth was that she had done just that.
The concert came to an end and everyone gravitated back to the drawing room for a last gossip before wending their way homewards. Ash took Pippa’s arm to hold her back and they strolled slowly side by side behind everyone else. ‘You did not answer my question,’ he said.
‘What question?’ she asked evasively.
‘What Lady Portman said that was so enlightening.’
‘Oh, it was nothing, simply town gossip.’ She would not humiliate herself by showing an interest in his amorous affairs. ‘Have you discovered where my brother is?’
‘No, I am afraid not.’
‘You would tell me if you had? Good news or bad?’