Ianthe and the Fighting Foxes: The Fentons Book 4

by Alicia Cameron

  'The Chinese,' Fenton said briefly. 'But success or not, they were about to make the attempt.'

  'So, Audley came merely to deliver your mail, Mr Fenton?' asked Sally Richards suddenly.

  'I did,' answered the marquis, although he had not been addressed.

  'I see,' said Sally icily, and her mother wondered at her tone of gloom. She looked at Audley's face, too. He was unnaturally still, his own gaze on her daughter's. It could not be. When? On the rides of course! And the walk. Perhaps the same day that she and Mr Steadman…? But she thought back to Sally on the way home. She had no consciousness, though she had seemed enlivened by the exercise. But now —? Audley's eyes. Haunted. Would Sally not have him? Had he done something to disgust her? Or was he the person who was rejecting her daughter, his haunted eyes the guilt of giving too much hope? Sally had been crying today — Emma had suspected, but not known it. Her daughter had flown into a passion, so very unlike her, and had then relieved her feelings with tears.

  Emma had hoped that, before the entrance of the gentlemen, both Sally and Ianthe would unburden themselves, but there had been too little time. Lady Aurora had been there, but she had not felt restraint, as slight an acquaintance as she was. Somehow her warmth, the silly conspiracies, and her evident love for Ianthe had made that delicate bridge to intimacy. No, given more time, Emma might have gotten her daughter to talk about the source of her rage and more, even in the presence of Lady Aurora.

  'Where is Antoine now, sir?'

  'Name's Mosely, miss. An old acquaintance of Mr Fenton's miss. He put me in the way of one of my beauties. And now he's had me following the third one.'

  'Beauties?' Curtis diverted him.

  'Mentioning no names, but my previous two young beauties are famous, and both of them very well married — though it might have come a cropper in either case. And I met Lady Aurora, too. You cannot say,' he said smiling at that lady, 'that she is not another.' He turned back to Ianthe. 'And now you miss. I never thought to meet anyone else as pretty as the others, but you are all enough to made statues for the museum miss. Can't imagine meeting another such a three in me life. And a fourth and fifth!' he turned to Sally and her mother. 'Two shining ones, there!' he twinkled at them impertinently.

  'I've remarked before on what a dreadful flirt you are, Mr Mosely. Not but what you are right. I shall commission the statues, depicting the muses, perhaps.' He counted them off, Delphine, Felicity, you, my dear, now Ianthe, Miss Richards and her mama. It would make a charming group. But sadly, short three figures.'

  'We could add the Black-Hearted Lady!' said Lady Aurora, having fun.

  'Lady Letitia!' recalled Fenton. 'So we could. We now have but two muses to find. But somehow, Mr Mosely, I think our paths might cross again.'

  'I believe they might sir, but I doubt we'll find beauties to match this four.'

  'I do not know you Mr Mosely,' smiled Lady Richards, 'but Mr Fenton is undoubtedly right. You are a shocking flirt.'

  'A perspicacious man, merely,' said Mr Steadman.

  'But Antoine?' asked Ianthe again. Fox frowned.

  'There are gentlemen from the government speaking to him at the inn, miss. That is why he told me so much. I brought them with me, being as how the list Mrs Eames gave us was so damning, miss.'

  'Will he go to prison?' Ianthe asked in a faint voice.

  'It is for the French government to deal with their citizens, I should think.'

  'I want to see him!' Ianthe said, determinedly.

  'Of course you do,' said Fox with disgust. She looked at him squarely in the eye. He sighed. 'I'll take you.'

  'Now!’ urged Ianthe. ‘They may move him to London.'

  Lady Fox came into the room, followed by a smiling Mr Markham and Lord Jeffries.

  'Why I should have to come and look for you, ladies,’ Her Ladyships complaining voice began, ‘when gentlemen have called to meet the family— What—?' she looked at the room full of people. 'Curtis!' she finally said.

  Curtis moved towards her saying, 'Mama!'

  'Why did you not inform me?'

  'Not a subject for that there statue collection,' remarked Mr Mosely to Mr Fenton in a lowered tone. The gentleman let out a short laugh.

  Footmen reappeared to set chairs and soon everyone was re-seated — Ianthe a trifle restive on her chair, Cherie merging into the background, and Fox next to Ianthe, ready to depart. Steadman sat beside Sally on one of the large sofas that bracketed the fire, and Mr Markham took the seat on the other side of her. Lady Aurora sat beside her husband on the other sofa, Ianthe at the other end. Jeffries headed towards Ianthe, but Fox blocked his view from the seat. A throne like chair had been set for Her Ladyship just opposite the fire, making a circular arrangement of visitors and residents. Curtis took a chair equidistant from his mama and Jeffries. Mr Mosely stepped back to the door. The butler nodded him out, but the little man caught Fenton's eye, and withdrew to a seat up against the wall of the room, away from the visitors and guests.

  'Curtis! You did not tell us that you had returned,' said Lady Fox, once seated.

  'I had only just arrived Mama,' said Curtis defensively. 'Tell her, Fox!'

  His mama was not impressed with the call for support her son made to Fox, suggesting, as it did, a level of new intimacy she was not pleased with. 'My son,' she informed Lord Jeffries, 'has returned from Broadbank. His own estate, in Wiltshire.'

  'Ah,' returned Jeffries, attempting to sound impressed. 'All well there, I hope, Fox?'

  'There are a few things I need to see to, but I have to say,' said Curtis proudly, 'that it is fine country.'

  'I am afraid, gentlemen,' said Ianthe, 'that I have been called away into the village.'

  'I would be happy to take you, Miss Eames,' said Jeffries. 'As it happens, I have brought my rig today.'

  'There is no need, sir. I will take Miss Eames,' said Fox coldly.

  'I see no need for you to go, Fox. None at all,' said his stepmother.

  'Got to see a French fellow,' said Curtis to his mama. 'Better have Fox.'

  Sally, who once disliked Curtis thoroughly, was beginning to take to him — just as his mother, having lost her one support, frowned terribly. The departure permitted, Fox and Ianthe left.

  'What bulls do you keep, Jeffries?' asked Curtis.

  'Eh? That is, I have no clue. My papa sees to the estate. Or Finch does, the steward, you know.’

  'Oh,' said Curtis proudly, 'I mean to be much more involved. A steward is all very well, but an estate needs a master's touch, don't you think, Audley?'

  Audley, Curtis' enthusiasm finally rousing him, said indulgently, 'I do.'

  'And not a visiting master, either. I mean to make my home there.'

  'Curtis!' cried his mama.

  'I meant to talk to you about it earlier, Mama,' said Curtis, eagerly. 'You'll love it there. And you can order the place as you like it, until I take a wife, you know.'

  Curtis looked a little dreamy and Jeffries said, in an under voice, 'Met someone, Curtis?'

  'As a matter of fact, I was invited to dinner by the family of the neighbouring estate. A Mr Pearson.'

  'He has a daughter, I take it?' said Jeffries with a humorous look.

  'Well…' said Curtis, but smiling shyly.

  Curtis' mama, straining to hear, was distressed. 'Curtis,' she mewed.

  Mr Markham, on the other side of the room, made a joke that amused Miss Richards. Curtis spoke to Audley again, trying to recall his attention from the pair. 'Thought you'd gone to London, marquis?'

  'I did, and then I came back,' said the marquis distractedly.

  'Ah, something about delivering Fenton's mail? Won't discuss it now but that was a dashed interesting tale.' He followed the direction of the marquis' blank gaze. 'Looks like Miss Richards has made some progress with the gentlemen. She's looking very pretty these days. Can't say I really noticed before.' He glanced at Audley who did not reply. 'I wondered if they have visited every day since I have been gone. Who do you
bet on, Steadman or Markham? Markham has it by a nose at the moment, but my instinct tells me that Steadman could gallop up from the rear.'

  'That is why you should never wager, Curtis,' said Audley dryly. 'Steadman is to marry Lady Richards.'

  'Lady Richards?' said Curtis in a louder tone.

  All eyes were on him as Emma Richards looked up and said mildly, 'Yes Curtis?'

  'I … I understand congratulations are in order, cousin.'

  'Oh,' blushed Emma Richards, turning to her swain. 'Yes, my dear.'

  'Congratulations?' asked Jeffries.

  'Lady Richards is betrothed to Mr Steadman,' said Lady Fox's stony voice.

  Markham and Jeffries gasped audibly. Lady Aurora said, 'Oh I did not know! How splendid.' She turned to her husband, 'Did you know dear?'

  'I guessed.'

  'Of course you did!'

  Hands were shaken, and Jeffries and Markham were astounded and cheered at once.

  'And it all happened at Studham! You must be so pleased that the happy couple have been able to pursue their acquaintance here, Lady Fox,' said Lady Aurora.

  'Certainly,' lied Her Ladyship. 'I did think it a trifle precipitate, however, but I believe there is to be an early wedding.'

  'I am hoping that Miss Richards will visit Stone Manor tomorrow to see her new home,' Steadman said.

  'How kind!' said Sally.

  'We could make a party of it,' enthused Curtis. 'I want to see what beasts you keep, Steadman.'

  Mr Steadman agreed, if a trifle wryly.

  'I shall not travel so far!' announced Lady Fox. 'Do not look for me.'

  Regrets were expressed, though no one had feared missing her. 'Will you come, marquis?' asked Markham.

  'I am not sure. I may have to return to London.'

  'We should not wish you to forgo your pleasures,' said Sally politely. But she added, 'We will not look for you. Do not come.'

  'Sally!' breathed her mother, alarmed less at her words than her tone.

  'I believe I will come, Steadman, if you do not object,' said Audley suavely. His eyes crossed Sally's, looking down his nose.

  A conversation developed about which carriages should be ordered to accommodate the company, and they all assumed that the absent Fox and Ianthe would make two of their number.

  The gentlemen took their leave, and Sally left the room. The Marquis of Audley lingered in the Hall.

  'Sapphire awaits you in the morning, don't let him down.'

  'I will let him down. I shall not ride tomorrow.'

  'Then when?'

  Lady Richards, in the hall bidding farewell to her betrothed, could not quite hear the conversation, but saw its intensity.

  'Perhaps never. I was an imposition today. I apologise for it.'

  'If you will not come tomorrow, then I will come to dinner tonight.'

  'Why?'

  'Because, like Sapphire, I need to take a better goodbye of you.'

  'I have had quite enough of your goodbyes. And I do not find them comforting.'

  'That is because my tongue has stopped working around you. I say things that I do not mean to, I hurt you when I did not wish to.'

  'And tonight, you will do more of the same. You should never have come back. You should never have let me realise that I … let me know that…' her voice became suspended. She glanced across at her mama.

  'I will con a more fitting goodbye. I will make you understand that it is better, better by far for you…'

  'Go!' said Sally, and it was loud enough to raise her mother's head.

  Audley bowed and left, and Emma said to Steadman, 'I must go after Sally. Whatever—'

  'I understand that Audley is a complicated man. Like Fox,' her betrothed added, arcanely.

  Chapter Thirty

  The Past Dealt With

  'You said,' Fox stated, as he was negotiating the road ahead in his phaeton, 'that he had mistaken you.'

  Ianthe was silent. He took a quick glance at her profile. The tears that she had shed were not visible any longer. 'I keep forgetting,' Fox remarked in a gentler tone, 'that your father is not long dead. I have been too concerned for myself to comfort you today. Too concerned at what you might say to me to be of help to you. It was selfish and I am sorry, Ianthe.'

  She looked up at him. 'Stop it! I need to be angry at you at least so that I can preserve my face right now.' They rode on for another minute before she asked, 'What did you fear I might say?'

  'That you would leave.'

  'You have wanted me to leave since I have arrived,' she reminded him.

  He gave her a look from the side of his eyes. 'You have known that not to be true — even before I did.'

  'Edward Fox. Is that insight I hear from your lips?'

  'I did not know myself before you came here. You understand that. I flailed around in a temper most of the time, unable to escape my situation. I gave no thought to how anyone else felt. You changed all that, Ianthe.'

  'If you were not a good man, Edward,' said Ianthe softly, 'I could not have done so.'

  He breathed deeply. 'You have told me so before. You are good, you are kind. I had never heard those words since Lady Fox entered this house. I was stuck in the dispirited resentment of an eight-year-old. It infected every friendship I ever made, or could have made. It stopped me being able to help poor Curtis.’ He looked across at her, his Fox eyes soft and gentle. ‘You made me see myself.'

  'And so, you did not want me to leave?’ said Ianthe, ironically, not meeting his gaze. ‘Well, Edward, my task here is done. I think you will live a happier life. Will do more of what you desire, will make new friends.’ Then her tone turned a little colder. ‘You can do so without me.'

  Fox pulled up the team. He turned to her. 'Does that mean you will leave here?'

  'Fox, start the carriage. I need to see Antoine.'

  He did so, the frown once more on his face. 'What happened today? He did not offer you insult?'

  'Now you ask me,' she remarked. 'You did not trust me before.'

  'Did he hurt you?' he asked through his teeth.

  'No. Perhaps he meant to force me to leave with him, I am not sure. He brought a carriage with him, talked of a wedding at the Scottish Border, or a flight to France.'

  'But he did not succeed in forcing you.'

  'He thought better of it.’ She glanced at him for a second. ‘I know Antoine. I was not really in danger. He loves me, in his way.'

  'Stealing and…'

  'It is difficult for you to understand, but all of that only shocked me for a moment.' She shuddered.

  Fox said, 'Longer than a moment.'

  'Yes,' she laughed. 'Perhaps.' She shook her head, and looked like she was calculating her next words. 'But our lives have been so full of extreme measures, desperate steps to achieve an end. I think I understand him better than you can imagine.'

  'And you excuse him to me?' demanded Fox.

  'No.' She smiled at Fox. 'But you must understand, if he had called me to him a year ago, if he had approached my papa as a gentleman…'

  'You would have gone to him?'

  'I may have — even though for at least three years I have known it would never be easy with Antoine. That it was not right.' She looked up at Fox's face, full of attention and concentration, but having to stare ahead at his horses. 'It still gave me pain, even on the journey to England. I questioned whether I should have refused him.'

  Fox grunted, and she saw his decision not to interrupt. She smiled.

  'But as soon as I came here, the confusion lifted.'

  Fox dropped his reins to his knee. He turned to her. 'When you came here? Why?'

  Ianthe looked at him with a reprise of her old pertness as well as some disgust. 'I find your question intrusive,' she said, with lifted eyebrows. Fox paid attention to his horses, since he needed to turn into the inn, but his hands shook.

  ***

  Ianthe was granted, by both Fox and the gentlemen from London sent to bring the comte back to the capito
l, the right to speak to the Comte d'Emillion-Orsay on her own.

  Antoine stood by the window, and in that light, it was hard to read his expression.

  'I know it all,' said Ianthe at once. 'My fortune. Why, Antoine?' Her voice was gentle, not bitter, but the comte laughed harshly.

  'Because I was mad for you, Ianthe. Because you are not an easy woman.'

  'On top of my father's death, to give Cherie and me so much more care…'

  'I was there,' he defended himself. 'I told you not to worry. If you had just agreed to come to me …'

  'I wanted to … but there was something about you, Antoine. Something I always knew. A weakness that was not in my father, whatever his supposed vices.'

  'I failed to live up to the gaming, unreliable Joseph Eames. Cherie complained that he was never where he should be, that he drank and wagered—'

  'Yes,' said Ianthe, 'but you know she said it with a smile. You said unreliable. But Papa was there when one needed him. You, too, have reason to know that, Antoine.'

  He hung his head at this. 'This is how I end. They send me back to King Louis to be sentenced.'

  'I have no doubt, Antoine, that your clever mind is already arranging the facts to suit you.' He laughed, and had come forward so that she saw a more sardonic expression on his handsome face. 'But Bonapartists, Antoine?'

  'I believed it to be a scheme impossible to succeed. And so, for the money, I helped them.' For the first time he looked ashamed. 'But I am almost glad to be uncovered. It began to look like they might achieve a miracle. And more war would occur.'

  Ianthe's eyes were on him, but her hands were clasped together, betraying an agitation he had not before seen in her. He tried for a casual tone. 'How was that discovered, by the way?'

  'Mr Fenton. Cherie had kept the list of creditors, and Mr Fenton recognised a few names on the list. It was soon apparent that it was a list of Bonapartists. That, and something I did not understand about someone Chinese.'

  'Wilbert Fenton was always a clever one. Chinese now work on St Helena since slavery ended. The Bonapartists had already infiltrated a Chinese worker who was offering his countrymen return to China with wealth, if only they were ready to help on the island if their ship could get in. A Chinese army, in effect, though badly armed. But it would have ensured attack from two places, the rescuers on the ship and the Chinese on the island. That was what made me fear for the success of the undertaking. I could hardly believe it possible, but each day it became more real.' He sighed. 'I suppose, too, that it was clumsy of me to use the Bonapartists as the gaming debtors, but where else could I find that number of conspirators, none of whom needed to be paid for the use of their names?'