'He's had a fright, but he's unharmed,' Henry said for the third, or was it the fourth time, Sir Kenelm wondered. Albinia took not the slightest notice.
'My baby! My poor child! Where is he? Why isn't he with me, where I can take care of him?'
'He's with Sally. She is changing his clothes, where he made them dirty and tore them,' Joanna said. 'They had to unpack the trunk to find some.'
At that moment a chastened Harry entered the room, or, to be more accurate, Sir Kenelm thought with an inward smile, was dragged in by Sally who hung determinedly onto his hand. Albinia struggled to sit up, dropped the smelling salts and glass of hartshorn, and held out her arms to him.
'Come to me!' she uttered in theatrical accents.
'Not if you're going to weep all over me,' the child muttered, and turned towards his father. 'Sally says I must say sorry,' he said. 'So I am. It was my fault, I wanted to see the ruins, I've never been allowed in them before, and it was my last chance.'
'And final one,' Sir Kenelm said. 'Not only did you put yourself and George in danger of falling, you locked poor Amelia in a dark hole. That was not the action of a gentleman, so I hope you improve before you grow up.'
'How dare you!' This was Albinia. 'You have no right to chastise my son! Henry, let us go at once. Where is the carriage? Harry shall come in the chaise with me. Where is my cloak? And surely I had more shawls? I shall die of cold.'
Henry shrugged and gave Sir Kenelm a rueful, apologetic glance.
'I'd best get her home as soon as may be,' he said quietly, and began to gather up the shawls Albinia had scattered about her when she had been carried into the drawing room. Eventually, swathed in them and her cloak and with several rugs piled around her, she was settled in the chaise, and calling to Harry to hasten and get in beside her.
Harry did not want to ride in the chaise, and Sir Kenelm had some sympathy with him. He would doubtless be subjected to complaints and maternal worry for the entire journey. He was forcibly lifted in and Henry climbed in after him.
'Thank you, Joanna, for putting up with us,' he said quietly. 'Kenelm, I'll ride over in a day or so. I'm ashamed of my family.'
The chaise drove off, and the rest of the party, in the travelling carriage, followed. Matthew went towards the stables, planning to ride out. Sir Kenelm sighed and took Joanna's arm as they went back into the house.
'First I need a large brandy. Would you like some?'
Joanna shook her head. 'I have never tasted it, but perhaps some Madeira? I grew to like that in Portugal, even though I was not supposed to have any.'
They went into the library and he poured out the drinks. They sat companionably either side the fire. He was recalling the previous night, when he had held Joanna in his arms. That made him recall the broken fan, and he sighed.
'I must go and talk to Amelia,' he said. 'She must be made to apologise for spoiling your gift to her. And then, will you play your guitar for me?'
'Don't be too hard on her,' Joanna said. 'She had a big fright, locked in that horrid room. Perhaps that was punishment enough.'
He shook his head. 'You are much too tolerant. What did I do to find such an admirable wife?'
She blushed and hid her face as she sipped the Madeira wine..
'I'm sorry I was so silly, last night,' she said softly. 'Of course I don't wish to leave, and Amelia will come to accept me in time. I was too shocked to think what I was saying. I'll fetch the guitar.'
*
'Have you arranged for me to see him?' Miss Busby demanded of her brother. It was several days after Christmas, almost the New Year, and she was growing impatient at the delay.
Enoch gave her an angry look. He had always resented her superior attitude, due to her seniority, but now she was beginning to treat him like a lackey, giving him orders.
'This afternoon, at four,' he said curtly.
'About time. And how about the second man the Intelligencer mentioned, as sometimes being his accomplice?'
'His suspected accomplice, and they dain't give a name, so how do yer expect me to find him?' Enoch snapped.
'Maybe Thomas will tell us.'
'Pigs might fly! Would you give up anyone that'd helped yer? Might as well admit ter cheating.'
She shrugged. 'I suppose so. Four, then.'
'I'll expect you then.'
He left before she could demand he return and escort her to his house. She was capable of finding a hack or hiring a gig, and she appeared to have plenty of money.
It had taken much of the money she had given him to persuade the reporter on the Intelligencer to reveal Captain Thomas's address, and more to convince the Captain that it would be worth his while meeting this unknown woman. Only when he had mentioned that Miss Busby had been employed by Sir Kenelm Childe had the Captain shown any interest. He might, Enoch reflected, have spent the money to better advantage if he had used it for buying ale in as many inns and taverns as he could, and if he had never found the Captain he would not now be having to welcome the man to his home. Dora had not been pleased, and said she would refuse to provide any tea or cakes, so if he wanted those he would have to arrange them for himself. He did not mind. He had a bottle of geneva, which he knew Emmy did not like, so he and this Captain could share it.
Emmy was early, the Captain late, and Emmy was pacing angrily about his small parlour, accusing him of deceiving her, when there was a thunderous knock on the door. The Captain came in, gave Miss Busby a scowling look, and slumped down in a chair opposite her. He was a large man, his hair was too long, and the scar on his cheek where he had been branded was still livid, the edges puckered.
'Well, why have I been dragged here?'
'I know who captured you and left you tied up,' she said. 'I believe you never saw those men?'
'Only at a distance, driving towards me in a gig of some sort. If I'd had any notion of what they intended, I'd not have been taken by surprise, even if the odds were agin me.'
'So you don't know who they were?'
'If I knew who it was, you can be sure I wouldn't be wasting my time here, listening to you.'
'If you don't wish for my help, go!'
'How can you know anything? Or help?' he asked, taking the glass of geneva Enoch held out to him and beginning to drink.
'Well, you thought, and so did everyone else, that the "C" branded on your cheek meant you had cheated at cards,' Miss Busby said quietly.
'I never did! I'm no card sharp, and if anyone says that, they lie!'
She smiled. 'I did not say it. In truth, I have a different theory.'
He sneered at her, drained his glass, and held it out to Enoch to be refilled.
'What can you know about it?'
Miss Busby frowned, but continued.
'You were accused of cheating a certain Captain Frazer – '
'He lied!'
'Pray stop interrupting and listen to what I am saying!'
The Captain shrugged, and took a large gulp of the geneva. Enoch, by now eager to discover what game his sister was playing, refilled the glass again.
'Get on with it, then.'
She bridled at his tone, but took a deep breath and continued.
'He was ruined, and he killed himself, leaving his daughter destitute. Soon afterwards she married Sir Kenelm Childe.'
'What has that to do with me?'
'She blamed you for her father's death. No doubt her husband does too. His name begins with a "C", so perhaps he was leaving his mark on you when he branded you, as a reminder.'
The Captain stared at her in amazement.
'That's crazy,' he said. 'Why should he care?'
'Because the silly man is besotted with her. Why else should he wed her, as soon as he saw her? They hadn't met before, I'm certain.'
'How do you know they weren't betrothed?'
'I knew. I lived in the same house, remember, when I was their children's governess.'
'That don't mean much. From what I know the nobs don't mix with gove
rnesses, think they're beneath 'em.'
She flushed with anger. 'You are impertinent! But I will ignore it. Did you see the men who abducted you? How many of them were there?'
'I never saw them properly. As soon as they got close they pulled up hoods and put on masks,' he said slowly, and his hands clenched into fists at the recollection.
'Where did it happen?'
'As I was driving back from Skipton.'
'The road through Ilkley?'
'Yes, over the moors.'
'Close to where Sir Kenelm's house is. Do you want to have your revenge on him? That branding must have been painful. As painful as a bullet wound. And you will never get rid of it, it can't be cured as a bullet wound can. Do you want to know how I can help you get your revenge?'
*
Chapter 9
Sir Kenelm and Matthew were becoming increasingly concerned at the news from Vienna.
'They still seem more interested in hosting balls and concerts than doing what they were sent there for,' Matthew fumed.
'They all want too much. Prussia wants Saxony, and Russia wants Poland. Metternich can't abide the Tsar, and Parliament here is getting impatient. They talk of recalling Castlereagh.'
'It might be best if they do send Wellington there instead. He knows how to knock heads together to make idiots cooperate!' Matthew said.
'I think I will drive into Leeds tomorrow. I have some business there and I can perhaps hear some news. I will bring the newspapers back with me. Do you wish to come with me?'
'I promised to take the twins riding if the weather was fine, so not this time, thank you.'
'Don't let them bring kittens back from Home Farm,' Sir Kenelm said, and went to find Joanna.
She was in the sewing room, with Betsy, inspecting the rolls of damask which had been intended for curtains by the first Lady Childe.
'Do you wish to come to Leeds?' he asked. 'You could visit the warehouses there and see whether they have suitable fabrics for the drawing room, while I conduct my business.'
Joanna smiled at him, and he saw how much less strained she looked. The anxious expression had gone from her eyes, and she was more relaxed. She did not have to face Miss Busby's hostility, and Amelia was less openly defiant since the day in the ruins, though she was still not prepared to be more than coolly polite.
'I have sent for patterns from London,' Joanna said, 'but it could take weeks until I can obtain materials from there. And there is another rent in one of the dining room curtains. I hoped some of this fabric would be suitable, but there would not be enough. I think it must have been intended for the morning room, where the windows are smaller.'
'Then come with me. I would enjoy your company.'
Joanna was tempted. 'There are other items I wish to obtain,' she said, 'and it would make an agreeable drive.'
'You go, Mistress,' Betsy said. 'Widow Fletcher is coming, and she can begin to measure the morning room windows and start on those curtains, so you need not be here. The room will be full.'
'And I will be in the way.' Joanna laughed. 'Then yes, sir, I will accompany you, gladly.'
*
Miss Busby was beginning to wonder whether her plan to be revenged on Joanna was worth it. She had been forced to pay Captain Thomas so much her money from Sir Kenelm had almost gone, and she had reluctantly moved from the inn to her brother's house. Enoch had objected when she said she couldn't afford to pay him any rent, rudely reminding her of what she had spent at the inn, and Dora had been most unwelcoming, but she had insisted, and Enoch was so used to bowing under her pressure he had forced Dora to comply.
'I need to apply for another position soon, and it would be better to do so from your address than from an inn,' she told them.
'The sooner you find one the better, then,' Dora muttered, but Miss Busby ignored her.
The Captain had agreed to meet with her each week to report progress, and these meetings were held in Enoch's parlour. There had, Miss Busby thought, been no progress and she made her displeasure plain when next they met.
'What have you done except ride about the country?' she demanded. 'Of what use is that? I do believe you are cheating me of the money I paid you to carry out a particular task.'
'If you don't trust me then I'm done!' the Captain said, rising to his feet and turning towards the door.
'You can't just leave like this. Give me back the money I paid you.'
'Oh no, my lady! It was payment for a task, not a weekly wage. If I'm to do it properly, I have to choose the right time.'
'You are just making excuses for your idleness. I want results, fast. Or I shall know what to do.'
The Captain laughed. 'Don't threaten me, my fine lady. What would the constables say if I told 'em what you wanted?'
Miss Busby frowned, but she knew he had her at a disadvantage. She could not force him to repay any of the money.
'Then convince me you have made some progress.'
The Captain sighed. 'I need to know the place,' he said. 'And the country round about. I have to find somewhere suitable, somewhere isolated. And I need to know what their habits are. Reconnaissance, we call it in the army, and it all takes time, I can't spend all my time on it, you ain't paid me enough for that, and I have to earn cash somehow. And I gotta pay someone I can rely on to help me, when I do find a way of doing it.'
'Someone else?' Miss Busby demanded. 'Have you told anyone else what is planned?'
'Don't you fret. It's only Dickon. He was my batman in the army, and you've no fear he'll blab.'
Miss Busby frowned. 'I said no one else was to be told. That was part of our agreement.'
'You can't expect me to do it all on my own. Dickon only knows he's to help me when I needs him. He don't know who it is, or what's planned, or where, nor who's paying me. And if he'd been with me when I was caught, them rascals would never have got near me, let alone done this,' he added, fingering the still livid scar on his cheek.
'That's true enough,' Enoch said when the Captain departed. 'I saw 'im with the Captain in an alehouse last week. A squint-eyed bruiser, with a cauliflower ear and a broken nose. And big. I'd not want ter meet 'im on a dark night. Emma, you oughta stop it, you'll get inter trouble.'
'Not now I've paid him so much money! You haven't enough faith, Enoch. But I think he will do something now. He saw how determined I am.'
*
A week after the visit to Leeds, where she had found some fabric ideally suited to the dining room, Joanna received a letter from Brigid saying she would be coming on the stage in three days' time. Joanna had caught a cold, and Sir Kenelm refused to permit her to go and meet her friend in Leeds.
'Matthew wants to go with me, and we would be uncomfortably crowded in the chaise, so stay indoors, my dear, and get better.'
Joanna reluctantly agreed, and as she did feel weak and her head ached, she permitted Betsy to organise it so that she sat in one of the small saloons where a big fire was lit, swathed in shawls and promising to drink all the remedies Mrs Aston plied her with.
Sir Kenelm grinned at her when he went to bid her farewell.
'You look very fetching with that old shawl wrapped round your head,' he commented.
'Betsy found it,' Joanna said, laughing. 'She swears it's thicker than any of mine, and I am feeling too listless to argue.'
'Stay here in the warm and get better. We will be back in time for dinner, but I advise you to go to bed before then. You can see Miss O'Neill tomorrow.'
He and Matthew set out, discussing the latest news from Vienna. They were both weary of the procrastination.
'Is it likely Prussia and Russia will come to blows if they cannot get all they want?' Sir Kenelm asked.
Matthew shook his head. 'I don't think so. I believe Castlereagh will have some support from France. They have no wish for further battles, they have been at war for so long. But I am more concerned at these rumours of plots in Paris to assassinate Wellington.'
'Ought he not to leave Paris,
then?'
'And be branded a coward?'
'We will see what the latest news is.'
When they reached Leeds they had some time to wait before the stage arrived, so Sir Kenelm, saying he had some business to conduct, and Matthew wanting to visit an army friend who was staying in the town, they separated and agreed to meet for a nuncheon at the inn where the stage set down its passengers, and where Potts would see to the stabling of the horses.
'I have no doubt our new governess would appreciate some food too, and a chance to sit beside a fire before we set off back home,' Sir Kenelm said.
He reached the inn at the same time as Matthew, just as the stage coach arrived. They stood and watched the passengers alight. Some had clearly finished their journey, and waited for their baggage to be unloaded from the roof, while others hurried into the inn in the hope of finding some refreshment before it was time to board the stage again.
'There's no doubt who our Irish Brigid is,' Matthew said, and started forward to greet a tall, red-haired girl who was looking round her with interest. 'What a glorious shade of red her hair is. I've never seen exactly that shade before.'
'And eyes so blue,' Sir Kenelm murmured, amused, and watched his brother striding towards the coach, where Matthew was bowing before the red-head. She was undoubtedly attractive, and he had not before had any opportunity of watching Matthew's technique. He simply knew of his many London conquests, for whenever he was in town friends make sure to tell him which hearts Matthew had recently broken.
'Miss O'Neill?' he heard Matthew asked.
She looked at him with no trace of shyness.
'Yes. Are you Sir Kenelm Childe?'
Matthew shook his head, and turned to where Sir Kenelm was approaching in a more leisurely fashion.
'No, I am Matthew Childe. This is my brother. But do come into the inn, we have bespoken a nuncheon, and you must be cold.'
She laughed up at him, then turned to Sir Kenelm and held out her hand. 'Good day to you, Sir. It is very kind of you to come to meet me. I was expecting to have to hire a conveyance. The money you gave me was, I think, meant to cover such an expense?'
'Miss O'Neill, welcome. Yes, that was just in case I was unable to meet you here. But come inside, it's far too cold to stand here talking. Do you have all your baggage? Show Potts here which are your bags and he will put them in the chaise.'
The Chaperone Bride Page 13