A Commercial Enterprise

by Sandra Heath

  “Forgive me, sir, if I find the thought of your penitence a little hard to believe.”

  “I swear that I am truly repentant, cousin, for in the cold, sober light of day I have come to realize that I have behaved atrociously and now the onus is upon me to raise myself in your estimation. We are first cousins, tied by blood, and we should not be at odds.”

  He gave her an almost boyish smile then. “Perhaps I should correct that, for you were never at odds with me, were you? The fault lies entirely with me, and I can only abjectly beg your forgiveness.”

  Caroline stared at him, for he sounded so genuine, but her every nerve was alive with mistrust. Those eyes, which were so sad and guilty now, had been so cold and full of loathing only the night before; and that mouth, which smiled in hope now, had curled with contempt and venom when last she had spoken with him.

  He took her hand then, raising it to his lips. “I know that I do not deserve your kindness, cousin, but I do mean every word I say now. Please, let us take this as our first meeting, and forget all that has passed before.”

  She withdrew her hand, still unable to credit this new Dominic. “Why should I believe you, sir? Why should I agree to do as you ask? You have indeed behaved odiously toward me, and although you say you are sorry, I see no reason why you should have undergone this miraculous change of heart since last night.”

  He caught her hand again, as if he feared to release her. “Can you not see that I am ashamed of myself? Dear God, I am not blackhearted, I know that what I have done is appalling, but now that I realize in full how much I have sinned against you, I can only come in abject remorse to beg your forgiveness. You are the mistress of Lexham House, but it is entirely my own fault that this situation has arisen. I know that you are not to blame, and yet I have behaved in a way which shames me to my very soul. Forgive me now, cousin, look into my eyes and know that I am speaking the truth.”

  Still holding her hand, he came a little closer, clasping that hand in both his and looking down into her face. She did not know what to say or do, for his behavior now quite took her breath away. She was aware of his companions watching with great curiosity, and although she still mistrusted him in her heart, she knew that under the circumstances she had little choice but to say she forgave him.

  A rather tremulous and uneasy smile touched her lips as for a second time she withdrew her hand. “Of course I forgive you, my lord, and I would be glad to take our acquaintance as beginning from this moment.”

  He smiled then, his handsome face lightening. “Thank you, cousin, you are more kind than I deserve.”

  Before she knew what was happening, he bent his head and in full view of everyone kissed her upon the cheek. Her face immediately flamed with color, but the thing was done now. Smiling and bowing once more, he replaced his tall hat on his bright hair and then took his leave.

  She watched him rejoin his companions, and a moment later they had climbed into the landau, which drew away and disappeared in the throng of traffic on Bond Street.

  Mrs. Hollingsworth was skeptical. “Don’t trust him, Miss Lexham—he may say that he isn’t blackhearted, but he is, through and through.”

  “I didn’t have much choice but to say I forgave him.”

  “He’s up to something.”

  “You are probably right, but I really do not care what he says or does, for I have too many problems of my own to worry greatly about him. What am I to tell Miss Seymour when next I see her? She will return to the hotel in such high spirits and happiness after having the final fitting of her wedding gown, and I will have to tell her that I have no one to do the catering. Oh, Mrs. Hollingsworth, I feel so wretched about it.”

  “It isn’t your fault,” said the housekeeper, putting a comforting hand on her arm. “You have done everything in your power to see that the wedding arrangements are as excellent as she would wish.”

  “And I have failed.”

  “Not yet, there is still time.”

  Caroline wanted to take comfort from this, but she could not. They had time, true enough, but only a matter of days; wedding feasts took weeks of preparation.... Slowly she walked on down toward Piccadilly, Dominic’s strange new conduct very far from her thoughts.

  As they reached the corner of Bond Street and Piccadilly, they became aware of a large gathering outside the premises of Messieurs Hoby, the fashionable bootmakers on an opposite corner, where St. James’s Street began. There appeared to be a large traveling carriage drawn up at the curb outside, and it was surrounded by an excited crowd, who were all interested in something going on inside the bootmaker’s shop.

  “What is happening, do you think?” asked Caroline, stretching up onto tiptoes in the hope of seeing more.

  “Well, if it was a print shop, I could understand the excitement,” replied the housekeeper. “But what on earth can be of such interest in a bootmaker’s?”

  “Shall we be very vulgar and go and see?”

  With a smile, the housekeeper nodded, and they threaded their way across the busy thoroughfare to join the crowd. At first they were afforded no opening, but by chance a way opened up and in a moment they found themselves right next to the window. Inside they could see the polished oak counter and behind it the dark shelves with pairs of boots and shoes awaiting collection. It was very superior and discreet, and at first Caroline could see nothing that might cause such a crowd to collect, but then she made out the shapes of two gentlemen standing by the counter in the darkest corner of the shop, inspecting a pair of top boots which had been brought by a very nervous, wide-eyed assistant.

  One gentleman Caroline felt looked vaguely familiar, although she could not place him, but the other she knew only too well. It was Hal Seymour! With a gasp, she stepped back from the window, dreading that at any moment he might turn and see her peering in. Seizing Mrs. Hollingsworth by the arm, she began to push back through the pressing crowd, anxious to escape at all costs before he realized she had been there. How dreadful it would be if he caught a glimpse of her staring in so vulgarly!

  They had hardly emerged from the crowd, however, when she heard the stir as the door of the bootmaker’s shop opened. Hal called after her. Dismayed, she halted, turning slowly toward him. She felt too mortified to be aware of the interest she was receiving from the crowd.

  Smiling, he approached her. “I trust you were not about to depart on anything urgent.”

  “No. I, er—”

  “Excellent, for that means you have time to meet someone who has expressed a desire to meet you.”

  “To meet me?” She was quite taken aback.

  “Please come inside,” he said, drawing her hand through his arm and nodding at the housekeeper to signify that she too was included in the invitation. Caroline became increasingly aware of the buzz of envy spreading through the crowd as she and Mrs. Hollingsworth were led back to the bootmaker’s shop.

  The doorbell tinkled pleasantly as they entered the cool, dark premises, and the smell of leather seemed to close over them. After the brightness of the day, she was unable to see much at first, but gradually her eyes became accustomed to the gloom and she found herself being presented to the other gentleman by the counter.

  He was, she guessed, somewhere in his forties, although he had the figure of a younger man. His appearance was imposing; he seemed much taller than his five feet nine inches. He was very handsome, with an aquiline nose and a surprisingly youthful and fresh complexion. His brown hair was cropped very short, his eyes were an arresting, far-seeing blue, and although he wore a plain, somber, dark blue coat, he was nevertheless a figure of great presence and authority. To Caroline he still seemed vaguely familiar, although she knew full well that she had never seen him before. He smiled as Hal introduced her.

  “Miss Lexham, allow me to present you to His Grace, the Duke of Wellington. Your Grace, this is Miss Lexham, of whom you have heard so much.”

  She was dumbstruck, her gray eyes huge, and from just behind her she heard Mrs. Hol
lingsworth’s astonished and delighted gasp.

  The duke chuckled, pleased at the effect he had upon them both. “Would to God I’d been able to stop Boney in his tracks with such ease—eh, Seymour?”

  Hal grinned. “It would have saved a great deal of time and trouble.”

  The duke looked at Caroline again. “Forgive me, m’dear, but when Seymour glimpsed you passing by, I told him I wished to meet you. I have indeed heard a great deal about you.”

  Hastily she gathered her scattered wits. “You’ve heard about me, Your Grace? I cannot believe that that can be the case.”

  “M’dear, even Paris drawing rooms ring with your name, for you are such a very interesting subject and such a delightful diversion from the more mundane aspects of life. And if I may say so, m’dear, you are also very beautiful indeed, which adds greatly to the piquancy of the situation,”

  “Y-your Grace is too kind,” she murmured, knowing that she should say more but fast finding herself overwhelmed by the great honor not only of being in the presence of such a great man but also of being paid gallant compliments by him. She must say something else—but what? Inspiration came at last. “Your Grace, I congratulate you upon your fortunate escape from the attempt on your life. I trust the villain will soon be apprehended.”

  “Why, thank you, Miss Lexham. I am reliably informed by the Paris police that they hope to arrest their man soon.” He glanced at Hal, and then smiled at Caroline again. “But enough of me, it is of you that I wish to speak, m’dear.”

  “Me? But I am not—”

  “But you are, Miss Lexham, you are. I confess that when first whispers reached me about you, I could not believe what I heard. No lady, thought I, would have the audacity and spirit to do such things; but the whispers persisted and soon I had to believe them. You are indeed a lady of great spirit, m’dear, and I admire that more than anything else.”

  She colored. “You are being too kind again, Your Grace.”

  “Nonsense!” He gave an unexpected whoop of laughter. “I am merely an admiring male, m’dear, for even the Iron Duke has human frailty! I wish you well of your, enterprise, Miss Lexham, and I trust that your audacity and acumen shakes the very devil out of establishments like the Oxenford, the recent conduct of which I find totally abhorrent.”

  Uneasily she glanced at Hal, but his face was inscrutable. She smiled then as she thanked the duke for his kind thoughts, but she refrained from adding that she doubted if her audacity and acumen were about to avail her of anything, for Marcia’s interference with Gunter’s and similar caterers had closed the last door upon the Lexham Hotel’s ability to provide the sort of cuisine the haut ton of London sought.

  The duke detected her reticence, but misread it. “I agree that your rivals should be held in contempt, m’dear; in fact I too wish to show my contempt for them.” He shot a meaningful glance at Hal, who immediately stiffened warily. “What say you, Seymour?”

  “Your Grace-—”

  “I have decided,” interrupted the duke, almost with an air of relish, “that I do not wish my banquet to be held at the Oxenford.”

  “But, Your Grace, all the arrangements are made.”

  “Unmake them.”

  Hal struggled to conceal the anger this caprice had aroused. “That is more easily said than done,” he replied, and Caroline could have sworn she detected a note of warning in his voice,

  “Nevertheless, Seymour, my mind is made up. In fact, I will go further and say that the banquet must now be held at the Lexham Hotel instead.”

  Behind the counter the assistant’s eyes were as round as saucers. Caroline started with shock and Mrs. Hollingsworth’s sharp intake of breath was clearly audible in the ensuing silence. Then Hal spoke again, his voice tight with anger. “Your Grace, I must protest! You put me in an impossible position!”

  “In my experience,” replied the duke infuriatingly, “that is when a man is at his best.”

  “With all due respect, sir, I think you are forgetting certain—”

  “I forget nothing!” the duke interposed sharply. “Indeed, I think you forget, Seymour! I have no time for all these careful plots and plans, and endure them under sufferance!”

  “Ditto!” was the sharp rejoinder, Hal making clear his complete disapproval and, in so doing, showing that he was fully prepared to brave the ducal wrath.

  For a moment the duke’s blue eyes flashed, but then he grinned, clapping the other on the shoulder. “Point taken, my dear fellow, but I cannot help it if in this particular instance I think you are totally wrong and that you persistently bark up the wrong tree.”

  “But what if it is the right tree after all?”

  “It isn’t.”

  Hal gave a faint smile. “It would not be the first time Bonaparte has humbugged you.”

  Again the duke’s eyes flashed, more angrily this time. “You are probably the only man alive to whom I would allow such liberties, Seymour.”

  “And you, sir, are the only man for whom I would take such risks.”

  The duke looked away for a moment. “I still believe you are wrong, and as far as I am concerned that is the end of it. I will not have my reputation and valor celebrated in the Oxenford. The matter is finished.”

  Straightening a little, he turned suddenly to Caroline, taking her hand and raising it to his lips. “Forgive our ill-mannered asides, m’dear, we have been boors to exclude you from our conversation for so long. It is settled; the banquet must be removed to your establishment. My honor will not permit any other course.”

  “But, Your Grace,” she began hastily, seeing how stormy Hal’s face was and being anyway only too aware of the Lexham’s inability to cope with such a grand and important function.

  “No buts, m’dear, and you shall not rush to Seymour’s aid because he is prettier than I am.” The duke grinned roguishly at Hal’s continued expression of dark anger.

  Caroline looked helplessly at the duke. “Your Grace does not understand—”

  “I understand perfectly, my dear, and still will not change my mind. Come now, to have a good business head is surely little different from being a good commander on the field of battle. Tactics must be swift and sure if advantage is to be seized. I offer you considerable advantage now, m’dear, and I shall be very disappointed in you if you fail to snatch it up immediately.”

  “But, Your Grace—” she said again, wanting to tell him of the predicament which prevented her from taking the advantage he so gallantly pressed upon her, but he did not wish to hear her protests.

  “I must leave you now, I am afraid, for I have one thousand and one matters to attend to before returning to Paris in a day or so’s time. I look forward to our next meeting, m’dear, when I trust you will greet me in person at the door of the Lexham Hotel, on the occasion of the banquet. Seymour here will call upon you to attend to the details—won’t you, Seymour?”

  Hal nodded stiffly, but he looked anything but pleased, which fact Caroline was finding increasingly hurtful, for it brought with it echoes of other occasions when he had shown himself to be completely uninterested in the success of her plans.

  The duke grinned and then drew her hand to his lips once more. “Good-bye, Miss Lexham.”

  “Good-bye, Your Grace.”

  He glanced then at the openmouthed assistant, who had been paying great attention throughout. “The boots’ll do, fellow, but I promise you that you will hear, from me if I experience so much as a single twinge!”

  “Y-yes, Your Grace.”

  With that the duke donned his tall hat and strode from the shop, the crowd immediately breaking into cheers as he pushed his way toward his waiting carriage.

  Caroline turned swiftly to Hal, but he was about to leave too. He smiled a little, his whole manner stiff with reserve. “I will indeed call upon you, Miss Lexham.”

  “I am so sorry that all your careful arrangements have been disturbed, Sir Henry.”

  “There is little I can do about that, for the
duke’s wish is very much my command.”

  “But there is something you should know—”

  “I cannot delay now; he is waiting for me.” Inclining his head, he withdrew, leaving her to watch as he joined the duke in the carriage. The crowd pressed around, and it was some time before the carriage could move away. When it did, the crowd surged in its wake, and the whole concourse passed noisily along Piccadilly.

  Caroline stood in the silent shop. She should have been dancing on air, but instead she was in the depths of despair. The duke had talked of tactics and advantage, but on her field of battle the opposing commander had closed all avenues. Marcia was still the victor, in spite of the Duke of Wellington’s good intentions on behalf of the Lexham Hotel.

  Slowly Caroline walked from the bootmaker’s, and her heart was heavy as she and Mrs. Hollingsworth proceeded along the pavement to Mayfair Street. Jennifer would probably be waiting there by now, and she would be devastated by what had happened with Gunter’s.

  Mrs. Hollingsworth put a gentle hand on her arm. “We’ll think of something,” she said soothingly.

  “Will we?” Caroline’s eyes stung with salt tears as she walked on, for on top of all her anxiety about the hotel, she knew the certain anguish of having once more seen evidence of Hal Seymour’s indifference.

  Chapter 23

  The dreadful moment of having to confess failure to Jennifer was to be postponed, however, for when they returned to the hotel they found her maid, Simpson, waiting for them with a message that her mistress had encountered some distant cousins and would be spending the rest of the day with them. Thus Jennifer remained unaware of the catastrophe that had befallen the wedding arrangements.

  Mrs. Hollingsworth did all in her power to find a solution, resolutely sending out the footmen to other, lesser caterers. That all was at such short notice did little to help, but even so the results of the inquiries were abysmally discouraging. One caterer could provide some of the desserts, another a small selection of cold fish dishes, while a third was eager to positively deluge the guests with countless meat pies. No one seemed able to undertake the complete feast, and Caroline was justifiably wary of engaging the services of so many cooks, for the broth would undoubtedly have been spoiled beyond redemption.