Ianthe and the Fighting Foxes: The Fentons Book 4

by Alicia Cameron

  Ianthe and the Fighting Foxes

  The Fentons Book 4

  Alicia Cameron

  Copyright © 2020 Alicia Cameron

  All rights reserved

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  ISBN-13: 9781234567890

  ISBN-10: 1477123456

  Cover design by: Art Painter

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2018675309

  Printed in the United States of America

  To all of us struggling through the global pandemic, I wish us health and happiness, and offer this tale as a little humorous diversion

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  Chapter One

  A Hurricane Arrives

  'The poor dear,' said Lady Richards, 'I suppose she must be delayed by this wind. To come all the way here,' she gestured to the ancient halls, which her young companion and she knew contained loathing both for them and the prospective guest, 'only to meet the Fighting Foxes. How perfectly dreadful for her.'

  'As it was for us!' said her companion wryly. 'If only I had taken in my Season.' She was a handsome girl in her early twenties, looking up at a mother nearly as pretty as herself, with the same brown hair and pale grey eyes and wearing a cap that she seemed too young for, were it not for the addition one could compute knowing the age of her daughter.

  'Oh, I thought you would surely bring Sir Ralph Eastman to the point! How comfortable we would have been in Cheltenham. And Sir Ralph attends every London Season, I believe.'

  'Well, another pleased him more,' said Sally Richards sadly. 'But I minded more for you, Mama. I did not feel a tendre for him, although he was very nice.'

  Lady Richards sighed, then shook her head. 'You are such a dear girl. If only we were situated as men are, and able to go seek our fortunes in India, or some such place. My second cousin, Gilbert made a fortune, you know, and I never thought him more than moderately intelligent myself. I'm sure we two could be very adventurous if we'd ever had the training for it.'

  As usual, Sally enjoyed her mother's flights. The one dimple (that mother and daughter both shared as an enhancement to beauty) showed high on her cheek. 'Instead we have mastered the French Knot!'

  Lady Richards giggled, then suddenly remembered the time. 'Miss Ianthe Eames is late, and she will find that, with Lady Fox, it does not do to be late.'

  'I do hope she leaves it until morning;licant's

  Her Ladyship is sometimes even civil in the mornings, after a hot roll and some chocolate.'

  'Oh, my dear Sally, we must hurry!' said Lady Richards, regarding an ormolu clock. 'What if we should fail to be in the drawing room before her?'

  The two ladies scuttled out, to achieve the drawing room in good time.

  Two of the Foxes were there before them, the brooding figure of Lord Edward Fox, tall, athletic and dark, saved from handsomeness by the unpleasant look on his face. There had evidently been words before they arrived, for the slight figure of his fair half-brother Curtis was sulking in a chair, his shoulder turned from his sibling. Sally devoutly hoped that he stayed sulky and silent, for the reverse was that he would open his mouth and harp at his brother once again. For money, always for money. How Curtis thought this complaining would work, Sally had no idea, since it had never resulted in any more than his brother's wrath, and once caused the peer to throw Curtis from the dining room by the collar. Curtis had recently returned early from London, with his pockets empty again, and would no doubt have started his demands.

  Lady Fox arrived, mother of Curtis and stepmother to His Lordship, a woman, who, according to Sally's mama, had been totally changed after birthing her only child. What had once been a plump beauty had become an emaciated wreck of a woman. Those who did not know of her strength believed her still so, but Sally knew that beneath the gaunt face with its iron grey curls arranged in serried ranks upon her head, and the skeleton limbs, lay a woman determined to get her own way in everything, and was not above using her apparent fragility to achieve it. Many arguments with Edward, Lord Fox, ended with the dreadful words Send for Doctor Tolliver, with a clutch at her heart. Fox generally left the room at this point, for he could not deal with his stepmother's histrionics with any hint of self-governance. She would win some concession of course, if not all.

  There was no Dower House here to banish her to, but Sally thought that if she were Lord Fox, she would build one.

  Lady Fox walked in now, tottering a little, and Curtis ran forward to catch at her arm. 'Mama, let me help you!' he said, and led her to her place by the fire.

  He was rewarded with a hint of a smile, 'My boy!' Her Ladyship said faintly and patted his arm. She turned to the others. Lord Fox bowed and she inclined her head, but with a frozen look. 'I trust, Edward, that you have dealt with your business with Curtis this afternoon.'

  'Yes!' said Lord Fox simply.

  'Indeed, he has not, Mama. Not to my satisfaction.' Sally thought the tone a little firmer with the back-up of his mother.

  'Entirely to mine,’ said Lord Fox grimly.

  'Really, do you have no concern for my nerves, Edward? It must and shall be dealt with.'

  'I don't think I properly explained, Edward old boy,' began Curtis in a more engaging tone, but still with a whine in his voice.

  Mercifully, Jenkins announced dinner.

  As they moved to the dining room, Her Ladyship said to Sally's mother, 'Lady Richards, I know you agree with me that Miss Eames has shown a distinct lack of courtesy in her tardiness today.'

  'Well,' said Lady Richards faintly, 'it may be that she has met with some accident on the road that has delayed her, my dear Lady Fox. She may need our pity, not our disapproval.'

  'Well!' barked Lady Fox, and her elaborate starched cap shook, 'I should not have thought that you would have been deficient in respect, my lady, situated as you are! I find you ungrateful.'

  Lady Richards recoiled. 'Oh no, I assure your ladyship…'

  Lord Fox looked off, his face disgusted, but said nothing.

  Sally was, as usual, brought to simmering rage at Lady Fox's daily humiliation of her dear mama, which she tried hard to mask.

  'If she arrives this evening,' continued Her Ladyship, 'I may have to repay her disrespect by returning her to London on the first coach tomorrow.'

  Sally grasped her mother's hand. After some breach of Lady Fox's imagined etiquette such a fate had been threatened to them, and now it brought fear and inclined them to sympathy on the unknown Miss Eames' behalf. Mother and daughter were due to stay with their friends the Houstens in two months’ time when that family returned from a trip, but until then their finances would hardly support a respectable lodging in town — or elsewhere for that matter. Sally had sworn to herself last Season that she would marry herself to a cross-eyed man with no more than four hairs to his head, rather than put her mother through another extended visit to Studham, Lord Fox's estate in a dull part of Kent, twenty miles from London. But no one had so far presented himself. She thought of Sir Ralph. She should have tried harder. Perhaps if she had not yawned that time when he was talking to her in Vauxhall Gardens … but he had been most deadly dull.

  'Now, now, Ma,' said Curtis Fox disinterestedly, 'I suppose the woman must
have a good excuse.'

  'John the Coachman said she was not on the mail. I sent him to collect her,' Lord Fox informed them.

  'You sent the coach?' reproved Lady Fox. 'I told you there would be no need for that, Fox. It is barely two miles from the inn, she could have walked easily.' Sally looked at the driving rain and thought this typically cruel. Her mama would not meet her eye lest they gave away their disgust.

  'Well, I supposed her to have baggage. She is to make her home here after all.' He frowned at his stepmother. 'And she is a member of my family, hardly a servant.'

  'What baggage might she have? If she came from the continent in such a rush, she could hardly have brought much with her. And she must learn her position now.'

  'I have no doubt you will teach it to her,' said Fox with some slight acid. Curtis looked like he would like to take issue with his tone, but the second course arrived, and it gave him enough time to reflect on his position as supplicant.

  The topics changed to town and country matters, and Sally hardly heard. What had Miss Eames' father done on the continent while the war had raged on? She supposed he must be a soldier, and since she also knew he was widowed, she conceived of an affecting tale where he could not bear to be parted from his motherless daughter, and brought her with him, keeping her safe from the battle's fray, but close to him always. 'Miss Richards, are you quite alright?' Fox asked. Sally had not been aware that a tear had fallen from her eye, and looked up and said vaguely, 'Oh, yes.'

  'I had a Great-Aunt Ianthe,' said her mother, also wool-gathering, 'I think it an unusual, but lovely name.'

  Lady Fox had nothing to say to that, and returned to the question of Curtis, 'It is beyond my understanding, Edward, that you, who have so much, grudge your own brother any part of it.'

  'Madame,' said Fox dangerously, 'I do not need to broach this subject with you again, particularly in front of guests.'

  'Guests! If you mean Lady Richards, I count her quite one of the family.’ Sally and her mother exchanged incredulous glances at this. Their hostess continued, ‘Curtis only asks…'

  'Curtis has an allowance, on top of what my father left him, which was a considerable sum. And the proceeds of his estate in Wiltshire. He should begin to manage it. If he did not put down all his money on a loose screw of a horse that was bound to lose, he would do so easily.'

  'Now Edward…' 'How dare you—' said Curtis and Lady Fox at the same time.

  Miss Ianthe Eames was announced. And thus, at first encounter, she saw the Fighting Foxes resemble their name — His Lordship with set jaw, low brows and furious eyes, the sulky Curtis protesting with a pout, Her Ladyship with all the venom showing on her wraith-like face. However, to hear Miss Eames' first words, said before the butler had stepped aside, she seemed oblivious.

  'Oh, thank goodness you haven't finished dinner! I am perfectly famished.' A stylish bonnet on the figure in the doorway turned to the butler and the voice continued prettily, 'Jenkins was it? Could you set a place for me? How kind,' she added as he bowed.

  The entire company was now aghast. Miss Ianthe Eames seemed to have burst into the room, wearing a violet pelisse and bonnet over a pink silk dress. She was uncovering her head of the most fabulous dark curls, taking from them the bonnet: an enormous poke, a silken profusion of flowers and two ostrich feathers. No one had yet found their voices, so she continued to unbutton her pelisse and revealed the pink silk dress, pleated at one side in a way that could only make it French, thought Sally, embroidered broadly at the hem, and plunging dangerously at the neckline (for she removed a gauze fichu that had been tucked into the bodice when removing her pelisse) — and continued to smile. 'See, I am already dressed for dinner, for I told the marquis we should be late.'

  A coach sounded outside. Lord Fox, his brows now as high on his forehead as they had been low at her first look at him, finally found his voice. 'The marquis? Do you mean to say Audley brought you here?'

  'Well, of course!’ Ianthe Eames smiled at him. ‘When he heard that I was coming here, he remembered he had to visit his estate, which I understand runs next to yours. And when you sent the kind letter, Lady Fox … that is you is it not?' Here Ianthe Eames ran forward to the end of the table and kissed her appalled step-aunt on the cheek, to her evident mortification. But Miss Eames did not appear to notice. As Jenkins returned with plates and cutlery, and set a seat for her opposite Curtis Fox, she merely said, 'Shall I just curtsy' — doing so — 'to you all now and let us make introductions later? You will all like to return to your dinner before it quite chills. And I confess I should like to begin mine.' Curtis and Fox fell back into their seats and Jenkins, who Sally thought showed just a hint of a smile, brought her the beef and dumplings. 'How perfectly wonderful, Jenkins,' said that charming voice whose English was slightly inflected by a French cadence, 'Thank the cook. And could you just ask Cherie to bring my lilac shawl? I fear I am a little chilly.' The butler bowed and went, and the matriarch finally found her voice.

  'And, who, I pray you, is Cherie?' she said with an outrage that made Sally squirm.

  It did not appear to touch Miss Eames. 'Why, my French maid to be sure!' she said with a smile at her aunt and continued to eat her meal.

  The widow spluttered and could not continue.

  Chapter Two

  A Night of Shocks

  The night was not finished in its shocks.

  Sally's mama Lady Richards had continued, glancing at the stunned Lady Fox and venturing to broach the silence that Miss Eames did not seem to notice. 'And how was your journey, Miss Eames?'

  'Oh, it was most entertaining, the marquis was telling me about the neighbourhood, you know, for I asked a great many questions.' She smiled again, 'And you are?' The directness of the question was softened by that delectable smile.

  'I am Lady Richards.'

  'Richards? I know that family meets mine somewhere in the family tree. Were you not once a Miss Fox? Cousins!' her smile encompassed Sally Richards, too. 'But is it twice or thrice removed? Is Mr Richards, or forgive me, is it Lord Richards, not here?'

  'Sir Guy Richards, baronet,' said Lady Richards sadly. 'My husband has been deceased for two years now,' said Lady Richards.

  'My sincere condolences.' Miss Eames leaned to the side a little to lay her hand on Sally's mother's own. Then she turned to the others. 'I am so sorry never to have met you all. Indeed, on account of my always living on the Continent, I have met none of my family.' She gave her joyous smile once more, beaming around the table.

  The widowed Lady Fox, reeling from many blows, picked on the worst and said, 'Do you mean to say that you travelled from London, alone with the Marquis of Audley in a closed carriage?'

  'You forgot the French maid,' said Sally Richards before she could stop herself. She saw Miss Eames, who had appeared to be unknowing of her hostess' dislike, let a hint of mischief into the glance she exchanged with her.

  Lord Fox's deep tones interrupted. 'That is as maybe. However, I should inform you, Miss Eames, that the marquis and the Fox family do not visit.'

  'Oh, I know!' said Miss Eames blandly, turning her large dark eyes upon him. 'He told me some silliness about a boundary dispute between the old marquis and your papa. That is why he did not come in, but merely delivered me, like a basket of lemons, on your doorstep. And all of my baggage. You must see ma'am,' she said, turning to Lady Fox, 'that I could not come by mail, as you suggested, with everything I own. As it was, the marquis had to hire another coach.'

  The company, who had been too interested in Miss Eames to notice more, suddenly became aware of continued movement in the hall beyond. Several persons seemed to be required to move things.

  'Another—' the widow said.

  A slow smile had begun on Fox's face as he looked at his stepmother's outraged expression. But then he, like all the others, returned to Miss Eames' animated face.

  'The Marquis of Audley's papa stole that land from mine,' said Curtis hotly, as possessed as his mother by the marqui
s.

  'You must be Curtis Fox, then! Yes, it is very likely that the old marquis stole it,' granted Miss Eames airily. 'The marquis agrees that his father was an old rogue who liked to poke a stick at yours, whom his father described as insufferably fusty.'

  'I beg …' Curtis spat out as his mother squeaked.

  'Oh, I know! What a rude old rogue he must have been,' said Miss Eames, casting the rudeness role from herself in one fast move. A maid entered, tall and dark with terrible thick eyebrows that met in the middle of her forehead. She was over forty, wearing a severe dress and even more severe hair style and came in with a shawl, disposing it herself around her mistress's shoulders, then gliding from the room. She had not quite the air of a maid at all, holding herself with a peculiar upright dignity. Sally was sitting next to Miss Eames and only she had seen the gentle squeeze the mistress had delivered to her maid's hand, and the answering squeeze in return. She continued, 'But the present marquis is not to be confused with his son, who is a very lively gentleman and utterly polite, I assure you.'

  'You cannot know him, Miss Eames. My père always said the Audleys had bad blood.' Curtis tried adopting the patronising tone he used on the Richards ladies frequently.

  'I should not like to argue with you, Mr Fox, but I know the marquis very well. Since I was seven, in fact, and he was seventeen, when he first visited my father in Paris.'

  'In Paris?' said Sally's mother, quite unable to resist her curiosity. 'How could that be?'

  'Oh, you are thinking of the danger? I cannot quite remember, but I think Papa was pretending to be a citoyen lawyer at that time. We were not at that address for long.' The others were agape. 'Did you not know? My father was mostly a spy.' The company gasped. 'You know, for the King.' As they continued to look startled, she added, 'It was secret at the time, of course, but Papa is sadly dead now, so I do not think it matters if I tell you.' She frowned. 'Oh, but perhaps I have exposed the marquis? Thank goodness we are entirely en famille.'