The Rake's Redemption

by Anne Millar

  “I meant your use of Frederick Duthford, Judith. If he had offended then perhaps, but his only fault is a fondness for you.”

  “Yes, father.” Judith felt her father’s disapproval flowing freely. And she knew it was warranted. “I shall be careful to cosset him next time we meet.”

  “I think not, Judith. The best thing would be polite courtesy. Do you not think?”

  “Yes, father.” Why was she the one in trouble when Thomas had behaved so abominably?

  “Alsbury seemed composed for a convalescent, Judith. Though a touch of the pallid about him. What did you think, my dear?”

  “He was a touch pallid, yes. His scar was well healed.” Though Thomas had seemed far from robust, it was difficult to see how he could still be suffering from an injury which was so obviously healed.

  “Pallid or not, I’m sure he will whip the Volunteers into shape, Judith. May even do young John some good.” Jonathon Hampton’s voice was reflective. “And he could be useful in persuading the lad to forget about Spain.”

  “You won’t let John go, will you, father?” Judith could feel weights bearing down on her from all directions, threatening to overwhelm her.

  “I think it’s unlikely, my dear. John may be attracted to glory and fanfare, but not to the reality of soldiering. If Thomas can dissuade him then all the better. But please don’t distress yourself on that account.” The emphasis on the word that almost caused her to ask on what account she should distress herself, but she let the moment slide. To ask would have tipped her into tears.

  “Well, we have received Thomas, dear. I will tell John not to encourage the friendship. You will not need to receive him again, Judith.”

  “Thank you, father. but I do not know why you should be concerned.” Judith couldn’t look her father in the face as she spoke, and she was grateful that he had nodded and left the room before her tears broke.

  Chapter4

  “See that it is done, Colonel. If you please.” The East Mercian Volunteers were punctilious in their respect for the military courtesies in a way no fighting battalion ever would be. Still Thomas had no trouble in recalling the correct style from his days as a young lieutenant, and if that were the extent of their peculiarities it would have been a light price. Unfortunately it was not.

  The ‘Loyals’ as it pleased Sir Theodore and his officers to call the regiment were lazy, untrained and slow. Worse, their commanding officer did not know it or chose not to acknowledge it, Thomas could not make up his mind which. Sir Theodore was affable, friendly and seemed incapable of absorbing the need for change. He had been quite open in acknowledging his intent to take his fencible regiment to war in contravention of the terms under which the men had enlisted. In Sir Theodore’s world such difficulties could be dealt with by bribery. ‘Government pays a bounty to men transferring to the regulars, Alsbury, and I can top that up if needs be. Persuading the cattle should not be a problem.’

  The minor problem that his force would be torn to shreds by the first French troops it encountered hadn’t occurred to him. In Theodore Horsley’s mind that came a long way behind the problem of keeping the men’s coats clean for the second review he planned to hold to overcome the shortcomings revealed before Sir Edmund Hewston. So Thomas’ demands for musket drill and forced marches were as unwelcome as they were insistent. Finally Thomas had no alternative but to explain to Sir Theodore what the orders to both of them from Sir Edmund actually meant. In the most courteous and proper language of course.

  Thomas shook his head as he walked away from a furious Sir Theodore. Detachment was the key to this problem. Just as it was with Judith. He’d done his duty, offered her marriage as he was bound to. He no longer had any reason to reproach himself. Given her attitude to him, he ought to be relieved that she’d turned him down.

  But there were months before he could embark for Spain and they were bound to meet. So it was forgivable enough to wonder if the Stainford charm couldn’t be put to use. Even if there were little trace left of the sweet girl Judith had been, she was a fine woman. Her fiery passion was still there in the disdain and anger she showed so readily. Meantime there was a battalion to train.

  “The man’s a gabster with his do this, do that, John. Far too above himself. It’s my regiment after all. Raised and paid for.” Theodore Horsley paused to draw breath. “I know some people in Horseguards too.”

  “You should speak to them then, Theo. The noble Viscount has his eye on the regiment, nothing surer. Far preferable if you can put the boot quite on the other leg.” John Hampton paused too, but he never got his opportunity to resume for Theodore Horsley obviously felt his need to speak was the greater.

  “I’ll not let him make a cake of me, Hampton. Damned if I will.” Horsley caught himself and instead of venting his temper further turned to John Hampton with a question. “You knew him before this didn’t you, Hampton?”

  “A long time ago, Theo.” Whether or not the question was meant as an accusation John Hampton clearly heard it as such. “We went to the same school.”

  “Then you can help me, Hampton. With what you know of the young pup. Well inlaid is he?”

  “The family is, Theo. Landed beyond limit. I expect Stainford is in funds from his father. You know he’s staying at his godmother’s place, Trefoyle. Lady Amara Guilmor knows everyone and admits precious few. Judith is thick with her though. If you’d like an invitation to the famous Trefoyle spring ball. Unless you’ve already been invited?”

  “Are you trying to be troubling, Hampton? You know perfectly well I’ve had no such thing from Lady Guilmor. What I have had are people asking me if you’re good for your debts.” That killed the conversation fairly effectively with John Hampton left twisting in the wind. “Well? As your colonel what should I tell them?”

  “It takes time, Theo. I’ve had a run of bad luck.” John Hampton must have realised how inadequate his reply sounded for he went on to volunteer some information. “There was a todo a couple of years back about a Spanish Marqués who called Stainford out over his wife. Got killed for his trouble. Though they say he marked Stainford’s face for him.”

  “Maybe I can be of service by assuring those who ask that all you need is time to organise your affairs, John.” Theodore Horsley waited just long enough for some semblance of confidence to return to John Hampton. “If you can be of more use to me. Why is Stainford here now? Been fishing in Spanish waters again has he? Or just a fancy for a safer billet?”

  “I’ll try Theo. Stainford is less than confiding.”

  “But you were friends once John. And I need to know what Stainford’s game is. So I must be able to count on you.” It was the kind of remark that didn’t expect an answer and John Hampton could only nod his head without the first idea how he was supposed to fulfil his task .

  “You know John, that sister of yours is a rare find, a diamond of the first water. Mother is always commenting that I need to marry for connections. I could do far worse. You could put in a word for me, my boy. After all I am helping you with those creditors.”

  ~

  All through their childhood John Hampton had struggled to fool his sister. So he shouldn’t have been surprised when his offer to join her on her morning ride was greeted with mistrust and a snort of laughter. “Are you sure Thor is up to it, John? He’s looking a bit slack these days. Carrying your weight he might find it difficult to keep up with me.”

  His ready protest and awkward jocularity only convinced Judith that her brother was somehow trying to gammon her. It wasn’t until he accompanied her to the stables next morning that she was prepared to accept that he actually intended to ride with her. The morning was crisp, frosty but sunny, and normally she would have revelled in the sting of the sharp air on her face. Except this morning she couldn’t rid herself of her suspicions.

  “Shall we take the Bosford track, John?” Judith asked the question as a courtesy with no intention of changing her intended route, but John’s quick agreement still to
ok her by surprise. As did his consideration in keeping Thor from his usual crowding and barging of her gelding. His conversation was limited certainly, a desultory commentary on the weather, and ready concurrence with her opinions on the estate, but he seemed to be trying to make himself agreeable.

  Finally her patience gave out. “Well, what is it?”

  “Sis?” The attempt at innocence wouldn’t have fooled a child, let alone Judith, but John’s vapid smile stayed fixed, forcing her to ask again.

  “What is it you want, John? Or have you something to confess?” Exasperation made her tone too sharp. Judith might be two years younger than her brother, but she’d never felt anything but responsible for him.

  “Neither, Judith.” He was still smiling, when his normal response to such abrupt questions would have been unrestrained warfare.

  “Then I am honoured to have your company this morning for no reason other than fraternal affection. How unusual.” Judith decided she was sounding regrettably arch. “I want to take a look at Okey spinney, John. Brewson says there might have been poachers after the deer.”

  The spinney showed no disturbance or sign of any poachers, but any reassurance Judith took was lost in the face of her brother’s forbearance when she insisted on dismounting to inspect the woodland. He even dismounted himself to help her remount.

  “You’re far cannier than any steward, Jude.” The words as they started off again carried no obvious insincerity, and for a moment Judith believed the compliment. Before she reprimanded herself for such credulity. “I’m glad Oakenhill will be in safe hands while I’m in Spain.”

  Judith slowed Sherbery to a walk at the certainty in his voice and John fell in beside her, curbing Thor without compunction when the big stallion showed restiveness at the pace.

  “You still intend to transfer to the regulars?”

  “No, I will go with my company when Sir Theodore converts the militia to a line regiment, Judith.” He spoke of it so easily without a thought for how his absence would make father distraught. So much for the relief her father had taken from Thomas’ comment that there was ample work for John in England with the militia. Why was she naive enough to place any credence in that man?

  “Actually, Theo was saying how he admired you, Judith.” His voice was so tentative that her stomach sank. All of his errors and disasters had been preceded by this little boy voice. “He’s quite the catch you know, Jude. There’s an awful lot of money, and his father sold all the sugar plantations. so that he’s not really in trade anymore.”

  “Would it matter if he were, John? To someone who has the soul of a cit.” His blankness told her he had missed that these were his own words flung back at him.

  “Well there’s no getting away from the fact that the family is new, Judith. And Lady Florinda is a little, 'em, anxious. But Theo is a damn fine chap. Rides a little heavy maybe. But generous. Can afford to be too.” He stopped with the air of one who realises he is gabbling without getting any closer to his point.

  “What is it you’re driving at, John?” Her apprehension was being steadily replaced by irritation. Her morning rides were the best part of her day, and this one was declining beyond redemption.

  “Just that Theo was saying how much he admired you.” He’d stopped short, giving every impression of unease.

  “So you were discussing me in the mess, were you?” Judith could see no reason to make things easier for her brother, and she enjoyed his response to the outrageous suggestion.

  “Good lord no. I’d never. And Theo is a gentleman, even if.. new. No, a private word. He feels you do not care for him. At all.”

  “So he asked you to plead for him?” All that was left to salvage was the amusement of pillorying John.

  “Just to point out just what a fine match he is. It’s not as if there are too many contenders. You’ve seen them all off, and Thomas isn’t interested. Been here nearly a week and only one call. Wouldn’t advise you to have him if he were anyway. He’s nothing more than a toy box soldier now. Theo’s getting damn fed up with him and his drill and musketry practice. Doesn’t think about the cost of cartridges, you know.” He stopped and peered hopefully across at her. “Well?”

  “Well what, dear brother?” Her tone was warning enough for John to shift uncertainly in his saddle.

  “I was only trying to be helpful, Judith.” His tone was all injured innocence as he continued to dig his grave. “Theodore values lineage you know.”

  “Just as I value my dignity.”

  “It would be an advantageous match, Judith.” The cold note was back in her brother’s voice even before his next remark. “Unless you’re set on becoming an ape leader?”

  Instead of reacting Judith favoured her brother with the sweetest smile she could dredge up. “But Oakenhill needs me, John. While you’re in Spain. Now if you’re ready I think the horses need some serious exercise.” Sherbery responded with a will to her heel, but John didn’t follow and when she looked back he raised his arm in a mocking farewell before turning for home.

  Twenty minutes of galloping took the edge off her anger. It was only as she eased the steaming Sherbery to a canter that it occurred to Judith that she was alone with neither brother nor groom. Less than wise if there were poachers about. Even if there weren’t her reputation could suffer. That thought brought a wry smile. She’d passed beyond good ton long ago, thanks to Thomas Stainford. John was at least accurate in his assessment of Thomas’ intentions. Since his startling offer she’d seen nothing of Thomas Stainford.

  Four years ago nothing would have stopped Thomas riding to her, or she to him. At least that was what she’d thought. Now all that was between them was a duty bound offer. The gallop had brought her to the edge of Trefoyle land, and it would have been simple to turn Sherbery for Amara’s house. Instead she set herself to hack along the boundary, carrying out a check of the fences. It was far too fine a morning to head tamely home, even when there was a pile of business to attend to.

  ~

  When she did come home it was with the despairing thought of everything she had to do. Even the beauty of the Oakenhill sandstone in the winter sun did nothing to soothe her. Instead of pausing to admire the old house she pushed Sherbery on towards the stables, determined to waste no more time this morning. The coach by the washhouse door was familiar, but it took a moment for her to realise whose it was.

  Old houses are built to endure, with solid wooden doors and sturdy stone walls. Oakenhill had stood the test of time, serving generations of the Hampton family, but it came close to its nemesis that day. Old houses might be sturdy, but they are not quiet when doors are being slammed. Lord Hampton and the Countess of Tresham knew Judith was on her way long before they heard Bridges’ despairing voice announcing that they were in the library.

  “Aunt Matilde, what a delightful surprise. Father, you should have told me.” If Judith considered that she had kept her tone to the acceptable side of civil, then one look at her aunt’s face was enough to disabuse her.

  “Judith, my dear. Are you quite well?” Matilde Sinclair, nee Hampton, had quite as much of the female family spirit as her niece, and showed none of the apprehension that marked her brother’s reaction to Judith’s dramatic entrance. “My note must have gone astray. But it is a delight to see you.”

  “And you, Aunt.” The certainty that has propelled her from stables to library was vanishing like snow in the sun, leaving Judith feeling foolish. The conclusion that father had sent for Aunt Matilde because Thomas Stainford had appeared was inescapable. But possibly wrong.

  “You’ll want to change, dear. After your ride. Your father and I have much to discuss.” In the face of such assurance Judith felt fourteen again, and she was mounting the stairs to her room before she could think about dissenting. Aunt Matilde loved London and rarely came to the country. For her to arrive unannounced, for the nonsense of a note was to be dismissed outright, was remarkable, and unthinkable without due cause. If that wasn’t the return of
Thomas it could only be John.

  Lucy was waiting to help her change, wrinkling her nose at the pungent smell of horse that clung to the riding skirt. “It’ll brush out, Miss. Not to worry. Thought you’d got lost, Miss. Or fallen off.”

  “Lucy! When have you known me fall off Sherbery?” The maid’s deliberately casual inspection of her skirt suggested Lucy didn’t believe her denial, and Judith was on the verge of renewing her scolding when the thought connected. Lucy didn’t think she’d fallen at all.

  “The clothes aren’t stained, Lucy. Neither habit nor skirt. There will be no need to remove any green marks.” Lucy coloured up at once, and Judith instantly regretted her tone. “The usual brushing will do, Lucy.”

  “Yes, Miss. Thank you, Miss.” Lucy very obviously couldn’t wait to leave the room, and Judith accepted the first morning dress suggested to expedite the maid’s exit.

  It wasn’t till the door was closing behind Lucy that the full horror of the thought made her go quite cold. Four years ago Lucy had just started as her abigail, and had been young and inexperienced. It had seemed quite natural that Mrs Rogers should closely supervise her care of Judith’s clothes. She hadn’t even considered then what tales grass stains might be telling the servants.

  So all it took was Thomas Stainford’s face for them all to assume she was going to... what? Had father sent for Aunt Matilde as reinforcements to handle her after all? Judith could feel tightness in her neck and pain in her temple, surefire signs of growing anger. Thomas Stainford was a mistake from the past. A bad mistake, certainly, but not one she was going to repeat. And any decent man marrying her because he loved her wouldn’t pry into her past.

  If only she could believe that. And even if she could there was nothing to say her marriage would be for love. The fragile remnants of her dignity wouldn’t last long if her brother were touting her round as a prospective bride. Sir Theodore Horsley might be new money but he’d still expect his bride to be untarnished. So John’s scheme was doomed to failure. Or was her brother just manoeuvring to marry her off before she made a fool of herself again?