by Sandra Heath
“I will be. Thank you for your warning, Sir Henry.” She meant what she said, but her voice sounded stilted. She could not help it, for although he sounded so concerned, she could only contrast his present manner with his actions over the past two weeks.
She was anxious to escape from him suddenly, and with a weak smile prepared to conduct him to Jennifer’s apartment. “I am sure you did not come here to discuss my family problems, sir, so I will take you to Miss Seymour straight away.”
For a moment his shrewd gaze seemed to read her thoughts, but he merely nodded, following as she led him beneath the arch and into the inner hall, where they began to ascend the grand staircase.
“I trust my sister is keeping well, Miss Lexham.”
“Yes. Although—”
“Yes?” He halted. “Is something wrong?”
“No, I was only going to say that she is feeling a little low today, so perhaps a visit from you will do her good.”
“I trust it is nothing—”
“Oh, I think it is probably just the understandable apprehension of a bride almost on the eve of her wedding.”
Caroline continued on up the staircase, and after a moment he followed her, but as she approached Jennifer’s door, she wondered if her explanation for Jennifer’s mood had been entirely truthful.
Jennifer had breakfasted with her that morning, and she had been in high spirits, laughing at the morning paper’s sly jibes at the Prince Regent, but then the next moment she had suddenly folded the paper and put it to one side. Her smile and humor had gone and she had been quiet and withdrawn for the rest of the meal.
Jennifer was seated by the fire in her apartment, reading Mrs. Edgeworth’s Tales from Fashionable Life, but she set the volume aside immediately when Caroline showed Hal into the room. Hesitantly she rose to her feet, obviously undecided about how to greet him, but when he smiled and held out his hands to her, she forgot her crossness and hurried gladly to him.
He caught her close, hugging her. “And what is this I hear about you being a little low today?”
“Oh, it’s nothing.”
He put his hand to her chin and raised her face, searching her eyes for a moment. “That is not so, sweeting. Tell me what is wrong.”
Caroline judged that the time had come for her to leave them alone, but as she began to make her excuses, Jennifer immediately begged her to stay. “No, don’t go, Caroline, I would like you to sit with us for a while.”
“I am sure Sir Henry has much he wishes to say to you without me being there.”
He smiled. “Nothing which would not be made more pleasant by your presence, I assure you. I would be glad if you joined us.”
She did not want to sit in the same room with him, but she had little choice, and so she allowed him to conduct her to the sofa. The moment they were all seated, however, Jennifer revealed that she had an ulterior motive for desiring the presence of a third party. Sitting on the very edge of her chair, she faced her brother, her whole manner urgent and anxious.
“Hal, you wished to know what is wrong—now I will tell you. I read in the newspaper this morning that the Duke of Wellington is about to return to London for a little while. Is this so?”
His eyes had become very wary and he glanced momentarily at Caroline before replying. “Why do you ask?”
“I think you know why, Hal.”
“I hardly think this is a suitable time to discuss it, for I am sure we will only bore Miss Lexham.”
“Caroline is not bored, and I am sure that this is an excellent time to discuss it,” replied Jennifer, her tone little short of defiant. “Is the Duke returning from Paris?”
“He is.”
“For how long?”
“Possibly about three days.”
“Will you be with him throughout?”
“You begin to sound like an interrogator, Jennifer. Yes, I will be with him.”
His sister’s eyes filled with tears then. “Why has it always to be you? Why can’t they find someone else after all this time?”
“Please, Jennifer,” he began, again glancing uneasily at Caroline.
“You’ve only just returned from attending him in Brussels, and I know you were in danger there. I think it heartless and unkind of the duke to expect so much of you!” Jennifer’s hands twisted miserably in her lap and large tears welled up in her eyes.
He went to her, gently taking her shaking hands. “The duke expects nothing of me, my love, and you wrong him by saying that he does. Come now, these tears are not necessary.”
“They are, Hal! I worry so about you, and with good reason, for you are so often in great danger!”
He bowed his head for a moment. “Please, Jennifer, I think you’ve said more than enough already.”
“I want to say much, much more!”
A little self-consciously, Caroline rose to her feet. “Perhaps it would be better if I left, Sir Henry, for I have no wish to hear anything which is not my business.”
He smiled at that. “My dear, discreet Miss Lexham, I think that that would indeed be like closing the stable door after the departure of the horse. My sister has achieved her aim, knowing full well that your presence prevents me from being the bear I should be with her.”
Jennifer had the grace to look ashamed. “He is right, Caroline, I have used you most abominably for my own purposes. Please forgive me.”
“I am sure there is nothing to forgive,” replied Caroline.
“So please do not go now,” went on Jennifer. “For if you do, I will fear that you are cross with me after all. I could not bear to have you cross with me as well as Hal.”
“Oh, I’m sure Sir Henry isn’t cross,” said Caroline quickly.
“He most certainly is,” he interposed. “And with justification. Please sit down again, Miss Lexham, for you may as well hear whatever it is my sister has on her mind.”
Caroline obeyed as Jennifer looked anxiously at her brother again. “I’m truly sorry for being so devious, Hal, but the moment I saw that notice in the newspaper I knew I had to speak to you. If you had not come here today, then I would have sent Simpson to you, asking you to call on me.”
“You have no need to worry about me, Jennifer.”
“Would you swear that on the Bible?”
He did not reply.
“You see? I am right to be anxious for your safety!”
“I could not swear on the Bible that I will return safely to the Oxenford, Jennifer—swearing such things is not sensible.”
“You are playing with words, Hal Seymour. I am talking about the danger you get into because of your involvement in perilous intrigues concerning the Duke of Wellington. I want to be a happy bride, Hal, with my adored brother to give me away. I don’t want to be in mourning for that brother instead.”
He smiled, putting his hand softly to her pale cheeks. “What a very depressing thought. I promise you that you will indeed be a happy bride, for this brief visit of the duke’s will not endanger me in any way.”
“I wish that you no longer had anything to do with the duke’s safety.”
“I do what I do gladly, Jennifer. Nothing will change that.”
“I know.”
He squeezed her fingers again and then returned to his seat. “I think we should talk of something more pleasant—your wedding, perhaps.”
Jennifer smiled, struggling to push away her gloom. “Oh, things are going on handsomely, Hal.”
He glanced at Caroline. “I’ve no doubt they are.”
“I still mean to set new standards of brilliance. I mean to make it the thing to be married in a hotel, to go away to Venice, and to receive invitations to the home of Lord and Lady Carstairs.”
“Society is obviously about to be shaken by the scruff of the neck.”
Jennifer’s low spirits were evaporating. “I went to Gunter’s yesterday to see the cake. Oh, Hal, they’re doing it so well. It is surely the most handsome of confections and will look magnificent reposing
in the center of the table with its ribbons and flowers. If they do the whole feast as well as they have done the cake—”
“They are to do the whole feast?” he inquired, looking surprised.
“We hope not,” replied Jennifer, before Caroline could say anything. “For we hope that soon the Lexham will have a very celebrated chef of its own.”
“Oh? Who have you found?”
Jennifer was almost gleeful. “Monsieur Duvall! Is it not splendid?”
Hal stared at his sister, his smile fixed for a briefest of seconds before he recovered from his obvious shock at this revelation. “Duvall is to do your wedding feast? But he is surely not leaving the Oxenford?”
“I certainly hope that he is,” said Jennifer triumphantly. “Which will leave you with dull English fare again, Hal Seymour, and serve you right.”
“You only hope he is? Does this mean nothing has been settled?”
Caroline spoke up quickly. “I have communicated with Monsieur Duvall, Sir Henry, but as yet I have not received a reply. I am not as sanguine as Miss Seymour that he will leave the Oxenford in favor of the Lexham.”
“He will,” insisted Jennifer. “I just know that he will.”
Hal glanced again at Caroline before replying. “I fear that I agree with you, Miss Lexham, and I do not think you should rely at all upon gaining Duvall’s services.”
Jennifer sat back and sniffed. “We will see. However, we’ve talked about my wedding, perhaps it is time to speak of yours.”
“Mine?” He looked surprised. “I have no wedding to discuss.”
“I doubt if Marcia Chaddington would agree.”
“I cannot speak for her, of course.”
“Does that mean that you haven’t asked her to marry you yet?”
“It most certainly does.”
“Good, and I trust that that situation will continue indefinitely.”
“I had no idea you disliked her quite that much,” he replied dryly.
“I like her less and less with each passing day, as you would too if you knew the whole truth about her.”
Caroline could see what was coming and she was alarmed. “Please, Jennifer! Don’t say anything more!”
“I shall say what I please,” retorted Jennifer determinedly. “He should be told what a horrid creature she is.”
He glanced from one to the other. “And what, precisely, should I be told?”
Jennifer faced him. “That Marcia Chaddington and her brother also complained to Mr. Bassett at the Oxenford about Caroline’s presence there. They demanded that she should be told to leave. Marcia is extremely odious, Hal Seymour, and you will be the biggest fool of all time if you take her as your wife!”
Hal looked silently at his sister for a moment. “And why would Marcia do that?” he asked softly. “What possible reason could she have?”
For the third and final time Caroline determined to leave the room. Her cheeks were aflame with embarrassment, and she gathered her skirts to hurry to the door. “I-I have a lot to do,” she said. “So I beg that you excuse me.”
Chapter 18
On the eve of the opening, Caroline and Mrs. Hollingsworth worked very hard indeed, checking and rechecking that everything was in readiness for the following morning when the doors of the Lexham Hotel would at last be opened and when some of the huge stock of champagne from the late earl’s cellar would be served, chilled by ice from the large block purchased from an Icelandic supplier who had advertised in the newspaper earlier in the week.
Notices concerning the opening had been placed in various publications, and now it was only a matter of hours before Caroline would see if all the interest stirred by the novelty and audacity of her actions would bring the required result. She went to her bed at midnight, but she was so nervous about a number of minor details that she doubted if she would be able to sleep. Within minutes, however, she sank into a deep, exhausted slumber.
It was very dark when the noise of hammering at the front doors awakened her. With a gasp she sat up, glancing around the shadowy room. Her night-light had gone out, leaving only the vague glow from the dying embers in the hearth to illuminate the chamber. The hammering echoed urgently through the house again, and as she slipped anxiously from the bed, reaching for her shawl, she heard the porter open the door. An authoritative male voice demanded Miss Lexham’s immediate presence, and she paused in surprise, for she knew that voice: it belonged to Jennifer’s betrothed, Lord Carstairs.
But why come at such an hour and when Jennifer wasn’t present? In her nightgown and holding her shawl around her shoulders, she hurried out to the vestibule, where she saw that it was indeed Lord Carstairs, but he was accompanied by several officers of the watch, and they looked very much as if they were present in their official capacity.
Lord Carstairs looked a little uncomfortable as she approached, and he removed his tall hat. “Forgive this intrusion, Miss Lexham, but I fear that I am here on a matter which I find unpleasant.”
‘‘Unpleasant?” She stared at him.
“I am here not as your personal acquaintance, but as a magistrate.”
“But what has happened?”
“We have been informed that certain rooms in this house are being used by—er, ladies of ill repute.”
Caroline’s lips parted in amazement. “You have been wrongly informed, my lord.”
He looked uncomfortable. “I trust that that is indeed so.”
“I don’t understand, my lord, why you and these gentlemen have come here. Even if this house were being used by every Cyprian in London, I do not see why a magistrate should come in the middle of the night to—’’
“I come because I have been requested so to do by the Earl of Lexham. Forgive me, Miss Lexham, for I would infinitely have preferred someone else to have come in my stead, but the earl was most specific that I should undertake this search of these premises. He wishes the matter to be officially investigated as he is anxious to see that the terms of his father’s will are not being violated. You must understand, Miss Lexham, that if we do indeed find anything untoward during our search, then we will have to report that we have discovered the house being used for purposes; which are other than respectable.”
She nodded. So, at last Dominic had made a move against her—and how neat to decide upon Lord Carstairs as his instrument. As she accompanied her visitors up the grand staircase, she knew in her heart that they would indeed discover what they had come to search for Dominic would have seen to that. She was glad of one thing: Jennifer was staying overnight with friends.
The sound of laughter was faint at first, but it grew louder as they reached the first landing. As one they glanced up to the floor above, Lord Carstairs gave a reluctant nod, and the officers of the watch led the way up the next flight of steps. The noise was much louder now; Caroline could discern that the laughter was a mixture of both male and female, and that it was not at all discreet. Her heart began to rush with anger and dismay as they followed the sound to a remote apartment at the rear of the house, an apartment Caroline knew had never been occupied since her arrival at the house.
One of the watch rapped once upon the door with his staff and then opened it. The dazzling light of the chandeliers leaped out onto the shadowy passageway, and with it came the heavy smell of Spanish cigars. Caroline felt numb as she gazed at the scene now revealed before her. There were three young gentlemen and three ladies, if ladies they could be called, for their muslin gowns were of the sheerest stuff imaginable, their bosoms were almost bared, and their faces were painted in a most brazen way.
Silence fell, and knowing, triumphant glances were exchanged as Lord Carstairs turned unhappily to Caroline. “Are these ladies and gentlemen guests here, Miss Lexham?”
“No.”
One of the women approached then, her lips pursed provocatively and her whole figure swaying in a way that reminded Caroline of the courtesans flaunting themselves beneath the arcade at the Italian Opera House.
“Of course we’re guests here,” she said. “As you know full well, dearie, for you met us at the door. There’s no point trying to deny it, you took a chance and it didn’t work. Cut your losses, we all have to at some time or other.”
“I have never seen you before in my life and you are not here with my knowledge or permission,” replied Caroline, glancing then at Lord Carstairs. “My lord, I swear that I know nothing about this.”
The courtesan laughed. “Oh, that’s rich! You took our money gladly enough, and now suddenly you’re all prim and proper. You opened your front door to us, you showed us up here, and now suddenly you don’t know anything about us.” The other occupants of the room burst into laughter at this, and Caroline looked helplessly at them. How could she prove that she was telling the truth?
Lord Carstairs gave a heavy sigh. He had not enjoyed his duties this night in the slightest. “I’m sorry, Miss Lexham, but I will have to report what I have witnessed here tonight.”
Another voice interrupted at that point. “Then you will have to report that the whole thing is an artifice, Charles, and was dreamed up by Dominic Lexham for his own foul purposes.”
With a gasp Caroline whirled about to see Hal approaching along the passage. His cane swung lightly in his white-gloved hand and his top hat was tipped nonchalantly back on his dark hair. The sapphire pin in his cravat sparkled brilliantly as he paused within the arc of light from the chandeliers.
“Hal?” Lord Carstairs looked dumbfounded. “What are you saying?”‘
“I am saying that these persons did not enter this house with Miss Lexham’s knowledge. They certainly did not receive a greeting at the front door from her, nor did she show them up to this apartment; indeed they entered after she had retired to her bed.”
“And how do you know this?” asked Lord Carstairs.
“Because I made it my business to find out. They entered illegally from the gardens, breaking a window in order to do so. I think it safe to say that Miss Lexham is innocent of any complicity in this plot.”