A Date with Dishonor

by Mary Brendan

  Alex shot her a look. ‘I’m interested in one of the families...but not in the way you mean, ma’am,’ he answered with mild amusement on noticing a glimmer of optimism sharpening his mother’s dark eyes. ‘There were two sisters with their aunt, Dolly Pearson, and Hugh’s aunt, Edith Vickers.’

  ‘The Dewey girls?’ Susannah asked abruptly, with a frown.

  ‘Yes...you know of the family?’

  ‘Mmm...’ Susannah strolled to look out of the window on to a rose garden. It was late May and some beautiful blooms had unfurled to perfume the air. She drank in the scent wafting in through a half-open sash.

  ‘And? What do you know of them?’ Alex got the impression his mother wasn’t keen on elaborating and that was making him determined to have more information.

  ‘There was rather a scandal some years ago when the girls’ parents went their separate ways.’ Susannah turned to face her son. ‘Mr Dewey took his daughters with him and moved out of town. I know Dolly Pearson is Walter Dewey’s sister.’

  Alex continued to gaze at his mother in an attempt to extract further news, but she seemed to have sunk into her own thoughts.

  ‘I’m guessing there was more than that to the calamity. Are you going to tell me what it is?’

  ‘Why do you want to know?’ Susannah asked.

  ‘Because your late brother has bequeathed me a list of his debts to clear.’

  A tut of mingled anger and astonishment was Susannah’s initial response. ‘Thomas is a devil to do that! You must throw it on the fire, Alex. It is a dreadful thing to expect you to clear up after him.’ She paused to consider. ‘Does this list have anything to do with your interest in the Dewey girls?’

  ‘In a way...my late uncle has noted that he owes their father a wife and an amount of cash.’

  A spontaneous giggle escaped Susannah before she frowned and shook her head. ‘Obviously you could pay back the cash if you’d a mind to, but a wife? What in the Lord’s name does he expect you can do about that now?’

  ‘I wish I were able to ask him,’ Alex said. ‘For I haven’t the vaguest notion.’ His mother’s surprise on being told of her brother’s odd bequest hadn’t been as pronounced as he’d expected.

  ‘Did Uncle Thomas steal Mrs Dewey from her husband? Is that why the couple went their separate ways?’ Alex sensed his mother was veering between fibbing and telling all. He’d considered the possibility that his uncle’s roving eye had landed on Mrs Dewey and an affaire de coeur had ensued. If the woman had been as attractive as her daughters, Alex could understand his uncle’s temptation. According to Hugh a scandal had blighted the lives of more than the adults involved; the girls had been affected, too, by having their family name sullied.

  ‘Thomas did have an affair with Arabella Dewey,’ Susannah said slowly, ‘but it was not a lengthy liaison. She went on to become Lord Reeves’s mistress, then passed away. Officially, she expired of influenza in Norfolk, having gone there for bracing briny air to aid her recovery.’

  ‘And unofficially?’

  ‘It was rumoured she died in labour, being too frail for another pregnancy. She had turned forty some years previously. If I had to choose between my brother and Lord Reeves, I know which of them I would say owed Walter Dewey a wife.’ Susannah snapped a nod, her loyalty to Thomas obvious.

  ‘Your brother obviously felt guilty enough to want to repay Walter Dewey in some way.’

  ‘Thomas must have got addled in the attic towards the end, I can think of no other reason why he would act so peculiar.’ Susannah frowned, her mind travelling back through the years. She’d heard other gossip about the liaison between her brother and Arabella Dewey. When questioned by her, her brother had never owned up to there being truth in it and, by all accounts, Walter Dewey had kept his lips tightly sealed on the whole matter.

  ‘You know more about it?’ Alex prompted on seeing his mother’s concentration.

  ‘Just rumours...’

  ‘Nevertheless I’d like to hear them,’ Alex gently insisted.

  ‘I’ve never known you show this much interest in any decent young ladies before.’ Susannah gave him a penetrative look.

  ‘I’ve never been required—by one of your kin—to do so before.’ Alex had emphasised his mother’s vexing relative in the hope she’d feel obliged to offer up a full explanation.

  ‘Oh...very well...if you want me to feel guilty on Thomas’s behalf I’ll tell you what I’ve heard in reparation for his sins.’ Susannah approached the table to shake the teapot. On finding it only half-full and lukewarm, she rang the bell for fresh to be brought. Reseating herself, she began, ‘There was more of a scandal than simply Arabella defecting to begin an affair with Thomas. Mr Dewey didn’t take being cuckolded lightly. Oh, he must have been furious, and mortified, but he wanted his wife back and attempted to buy your uncle off. He settled Thomas’s gambling debts—which were huge—on the understanding that my brother would end the affair. Thomas reluctantly agreed. He was by then in a financial mess that might have ended with him in the Fleet. I believe it wasn’t just a mercenary decision—he thought sacrificing Arabella was the right thing to do. She was a clingy woman and obsessed with him. I’ve no doubt she would have willingly followed him to gaol and the scandal would have hit new heights.’ Susannah shook her head. ‘Those poor girls would have suffered dreadfully. They were still in the schoolroom, but in their teens, so old enough to understand a good deal.’ She glanced at her silent son. ‘I know what you’re thinking—why wouldn’t your papa help Thomas settle his debts?’

  ‘I know my father had scant patience with him and it’s becoming clearer why that was.’

  ‘Scant patience?’ Susannah echoed ruefully. ‘It was a sadness to me that the two of them loathed one another. Thomas would never have asked for a penny piece from George and neither would he have got it if he had.’

  ‘Perhaps my uncle has got the last laugh. If I settle his debts, it could be argued the money will have come from my father’s estate.’

  ‘None of this tale has been corroborated. Thomas would never speak about it,’ Susannah said truthfully. Quickly she carried on her account. ‘That’s not the worst of it: the money with which Mr Dewey paid off Thomas’s debts was not his to use. It belonged to clients; he was a lawyer, you see, and held money in trust. I don’t think Walter intended to defraud anybody; he was a desperate man and borrowed the funds until an investment he’d made in the East India Company turned up trumps. Unfortunately, the whole enterprise turned as sour as a barrel of vinegar. And Arabella refused to go home into the bargain. She turned to Lord Reeves instead of her husband when Thomas put her off.’

  ‘So Walter Dewey lost his wife, his good reputation and I imagine his business because of your brother,’ Alex stated in an emotionless voice.

  Susannah bristled. ‘Some people might say his hussy of a wife brought about his downfall. I believe Thomas managed to repay some of what he owed before the end of his life and he did so voluntarily.’

  ‘Have these rumours come via Lord Mornington?’ Alex asked drily. He knew his mother was the Earl of Mornington’s mistress. ‘I imagine if Uncle Thomas didn’t confide in you another fellow has supplied the details.’ Alex was aware that Lord Mornington had relatives in the judiciary.

  ‘I’d sooner have left it all well alone.’ Susannah evaded answering. ‘The two people who caused the misery have passed away so it is pointless raking it over now.’ She looked crossly at her son. ‘Why have you only just mentioned this, Alex?’

  ‘Because I’ve only just found out. I was given the letter yesterday. Thomas stipulated I have it after I turned thirty and only if my father had passed on.’

  Susannah gasped in surprise. ‘You see, he was a complete henwit at the end.’

  Behind his casual façade Susannah could see that her son was disgusted by what he’d heard a
bout his uncle and that saddened her because they’d been close. ‘Thomas tried to act honourably,’ she insisted, championing her dead sibling. ‘He ended the affair and urged Arabella to go home. When she knew Thomas wouldn’t take her back she hooked herself a lord instead.’

  Alex paced to and fro, thinking deeply on what he’d heard. ‘So I take it that the official version of events is that Mr Dewey stole money through selfishness and avarice and was caught red-handed when his ship failed to come in?’

  ‘More or less...’ Susannah agreed. ‘Despite what Arabella had done he wanted her name kept out of it as much as possible. I imagine again that was to protect his daughters. The eldest made her come out at sixteen under her aunt Dolly’s wing. But it was a quiet affair. I think by then Mr Dewey knew that his girls would be the butt of malice and sought to protect them in the countryside. I was surprised to hear you say they are again out and about. But some years have passed and fresh gossip always overshadows ancient scandals.’

  The tea arrived and Susannah immediately offered her son a fresh cup. But Alex seemed keen to get going.

  ‘What will you do about Thomas’s bequest?’ Susannah asked.

  ‘At present I’ve no idea,’ Alex said.

  Once Alex had gone Susannah drank her fresh tea and helped herself to a cinnamon biscuit from the plate. She sighed. She had loved her brother dearly, but her darling late husband would easily have won a contest for her affection. George had never made her choose between them, but he had begrudged the fact that his son and heir seemed fond of his dissolute brother-in-law. Alex had visited his uncle frequently when he was of an age to do as he pleased. With hindsight Susannah knew George had been right to want to keep them apart. No bad character traits seemed to have rubbed off on Alex—although Susannah realised Alex’s success with the ladies could rival her brother’s conquests. Nevertheless, if the two men hadn’t been quite so close her brother might not have felt entitled to draw his nephew into a tragedy revived from beyond the grave.

  Chapter Nine

  Maude Chapman was pleased to be proved right in her theory that the Dewey sisters would attract well-connected followers—as she proceeded into Mr and Mrs Clemence’s sparkling ballroom the first person she saw was Hugh Kendrick. His delighted smile acknowledged their arrival and Maude noticed that Beatrice was shyly mirroring his pleasure. Her eyes darted to and fro to discover if his good friend Viscount Blackthorne had also turned up to pursue Elise, but couldn’t spot him. She cheered herself up; the illustrious viscount might not be in evidence, but many other eligible bachelors were and some, stationed close to the entrance, were giving her pretty charges appreciative glances. The Clemences’ son Jago seemed particularly interested in the girls. Yesterday James Whittiker had sulkily imparted that he’d not been invited to this ball. With soaring spirits Maude had recognised a perfect opportunity for Fiona to improve her prospects without Whittiker dogging her footsteps.

  ‘Come...let us mind our manners and say hello to our hostess,’ Maude whispered, ushering her daughters and the Dewey sisters towards Mrs Clemence and her daughter Caro.

  As the ladies took care of niceties Mr Chapman and Hugh Kendrick strolled towards one another.

  Anthony fanned his face with a hand. ‘It’s a warm evening, sir; I think I’m in need of some cold refreshment.’

  ‘Champagne is on its way, Mr Chapman.’ Hugh tipped his head at the waiters circulating with silver salvers filled with fizzing drinks. ‘And very good it is, too.’ He elevated his empty glass, then deposited it on a tray as a waiter halted in front of them. The two gentlemen helped themselves to filled crystal flutes. Anthony immediately savoured a refreshing mist of bubbles on his skin before tasting his drink.

  ‘Is your chum Alex on his way?’ Anthony asked, smacking his lips.

  ‘He’s here,’ Hugh replied and nodded at the doorway just as a footman’s booming voice heralded the presence of Viscount Blackthorne.

  Elise wasn’t alone in swivelling about on hearing that announcement. Their hostess and her daughter had started to attention; so had Maude, and Dolly Pearson who had arrived some time earlier with her friend and neighbour Edith Vickers. Elise’s expression was apprehensive whereas the other ladies simply seemed overjoyed at the sight of him.

  ‘I had a feeling he might turn up,’ Verity whispered with an arch look for her friend.

  Elise smiled wryly. ‘I had a feeling Hugh Kendrick might turn up.’

  ‘He has been giving Bea some fond looks,’ Verity interpreted the hint.

  ‘She likes him, too.’ Elise sighed. ‘She has barely let a waking hour pass without mention of him since they met at Vauxhall.’

  ‘You don’t approve?’

  ‘Oh...I like him very well; he seems charming and sincere...’ Elise’s praise withered away. How could she think him sincere when he had proved himself a fortune hunter too craven to meet Lady Lonesome in person? But, on reflection, Elise adhered to her first assessment of his character. Hugh Kendrick was not a bad person, she was sure of it, just as her sister was not dishonest in scheming to get a husband and family to love and cherish. Unfortunate circumstances and soulful yearnings could make good people act foolishly.

  ‘But you don’t think anything will come of it?’ Verity asked.

  ‘How can it when neither of them has a bean?’ Elise gave a hopeless gesture.

  ‘Perhaps this evening Bea might catch the eye of a fellow in a position to propose.’ Verity gave her friend’s arm an encouraging pat.

  ‘And if such a gentleman comes up to scratch, will she accept him now she is smitten?’ Elise was frowning at the sight of her sister gazing dreamily in Hugh Kendrick’s direction.

  ‘My mama wasn’t very optimistic about such a notable turning up.’ Caro Clemence had nudged Elise, then drawn her aside to murmur that in her ear. ‘But I said if we received an acceptance from the Chapmans then there was a very good chance Viscount Blackthorne might come along. He is very attractive, isn’t he?’

  ‘Mmm,’ Elise replied neutrally. She was aware eyes had turned on her as soon as he passed over the threshold. He’d devoted time to her at the pleasure gardens and started chins wagging. Had the reasons for his attention circulated...none of her party would have been invited here this evening. Of course, the viscount would have been welcomed in with open arms. Little disgrace would have attached to him following the exposure of their night-time tryst in the bushes.

  ‘He seemed to take a fancy to you at Vauxhall.’ Caro went on to prove Elise’s concerns valid. ‘I know my mama would be ecstatic if he were to come calling on me.’

  There was no hint of envy or malice in the belle of the ball’s limpid gaze. ‘And you?’ Elise asked. ‘How would you feel?’

  ‘Disappointed.’ Caro wrinkled her nose. ‘Oh...I know he is such a wonderful catch, but—’ She glanced at a group of young army officers resplendent in their scarlet uniforms. One of the fellows, who looked little more than nineteen, appeared to be blushing and peering their way. ‘I have a sweetheart, but my parents know nothing about it, nor would they approve if they did.’ She pulled an unhappy little face. ‘They like Wilfred well enough as my brother’s friend, but as a son-in-law they would find him sadly lacking—no money, you see.’

  ‘It seems to be the way of things.’ Elise gave Caro a sympathetic smile. On turning about, she found the Chapmans and her aunt’s party had moved some yards away to talk to new arrivals.

  ‘How are you this evening, Miss Dewey?’

  ‘Very well, sir, thank you.’ Elise darted a glance up into a startlingly handsome face, her heart racing.

  She hadn’t realised that Alex had strolled closer, then casually cut off her path to her group of friends. When last they’d met, in twilight broken only by palely flickering lamps, Elise had not noticed what he wore other than to recall he’d had an aura of wealth and dist
inction. Now, under the sharp crystal light of the chandeliers she realised he was magnificently attired in snug-fitting evening clothes cut from smooth charcoal-coloured cloth. A grey-silk cravat sat atop an ice-white shirt, its intricate folds pinned in place by an oval diamond the size of a button.

  Alex’s lips tilted in wry humour as he noticed her innocent admiration. ‘And you look very nice, too,’ he murmured, his eyes slipping over her slender, satin-clad figure.

  Elise had chosen to have a dress made up in an amber hue. It matched her eyes, Mrs Chapman had said. The woman had been glad, too, that it was not a colour that any of the other girls had wanted or there might have been a delay in getting the gowns finished while good-natured bickering over fabrics continued. The modiste had done sterling work to deliver the clothes earlier that day after such a short time.

  ‘Thank you, it is new,’ Elise burbled, smoothing her shimmering skirt as a quiet settled between them.

  ‘The colour is unusual, yet it suits you very well.’

  Again Elise murmured her thanks for the compliment and nervously flicked a honey-coloured curl from a fragile shoulder. ‘I see that Mr Kendrick is here. I have not yet had an opportunity to speak to him,’ she rattled off.

  ‘He seems quite content to devote himself to your sister,’ Alex replied drily, tilting his head to indicate that Hugh Kendrick and Mr Chapman had joined the ladies. Hugh and Bea did appear to already have drawn away from the group to chat, eyes locked.

  ‘I wish I could say I’m glad to see my sister looking happy, but it will not do,’ Elise murmured. ‘There is no future in the relationship and I would beg you to steer him elsewhere. I must ask Beatrice to keep her distance, too.’

  ‘Why interfere? Hugh won’t heed what I say if he is besotted with her. And your sister is old enough to decide her own fate...older than you, I recall your aunt said.’