'If she is as unstable as you suggest there would be nothing to prevent her from committing an imprudence after she is married,' she snapped.
'But then I should not be the one required to extricate her.'
'Oh, you are insufferable! You want my brother's fortune for her, and to rid yourself of any responsibility, pass it on to a mere boy. Well, my lord, as long as I have any influence or control over my brother, you may whistle for his fortune! You may not be aware, but his trustee has given me full powers to control Henry's allowances, until he is of age. And I will do nothing to aid him in such an imprudent match. Now, my lord,' she added, moving to tug at the bell pull, 'I think we understand one another, so I will bid you good day!'
*
After he had left, Elizabeth flung herself down on the sopha. How dared the man treat Henry's stupid infatuation as a heaven-sent opportunity for him to be rid of his difficult ward? And if only half of what he said about her was true, she was certainly unfit to marry a Markby. Who was she? Who had her parents been? Why had they chosen Lord Clifford's father as guardian? Was she related to the present Lord Clifford?
She could not ask her mother, who had not yet been informed of Henry's intentions. Though privately Elizabeth was of the opinion that her mother's invalidism was to a large extent imaginary, caused by the lack of occupation, she was well aware that the news could bring on spasms. Henry had always been her favourite, and despite the many scrapes he had fallen into while at Eton and Oxford, she never blamed him. It was always the fault of his wicked companions. He gambled excessively because his friends encouraged him. He risked his neck in foolish carriage races, or riding half-broken horses, because he was a bold sportsman, not, as Elizabeth said, that he had a reckless, heedless desire to prove himself better than his friends.
Lady Markby had never been informed of the more insalubrious of Henry's entanglements. He had appealed then to his sister, knowing she would not permit the family name to be besmirched. It has cost thousands to rescue him from a breach of promise suit brought on behalf of a prosperous innkeeper's daughter in Oxford, and more still to rid him of a pretty little dancer from the Opera in London. He had admitted those liaisons, but vehemently denied being the father of an Oxford slut's child. To avoid scandal, Elizabeth had paid her, and she had promptly married a local farm labourer. It would hardly be possible to separate him from Annamarie in such a way, however. Different tactics must be employed. First, though, she needed information about Lord Clifford.
Suddenly making up her mind she took the kitten down to reunite it with the kitchen cat, ordered her groom to bring round the curricle she drove, and went to don a walking gown and a warm pelisse. Though it was July, there was a chill breeze. She told the groom he need not accompany her, and set off westwards towards Hove. If anyone could give her the information she wanted it was Felicity Winton, her oldest friend, who had married in their first Season, and now lived with her husband and three children in a large house some five miles from Brighton. Besides, she wanted to see how the school Felicity had helped her set up last year was doing.
She found Felicity alone, and joined her in a nuncheon of fruit and soft white rolls. A vibrant redhead, Felicity had fallen in love with her husband during her first Season, married him at the end of it, and as far as Elizabeth could judge, never regretted it for a single minute. She was comfortably plump, and while still wearing fashionable clothes, had stopped trying to hide her freckles by placing slices of cucumber on them, saying it was now more important to her to be able to play with her children in the garden than care about irrelevancies like her complexion.
'George had to go to London,' Felicity explained. 'It is something to do with the Army of Occupation. They think because his mother was French he knows all about the country, when he has only visited it once, during the Peace of Amiens, to see his grandparents.'
As they ate Elizabeth told her about Henry's new exploit, and Lord Clifford's attitude.
'He simply wishes to foist her off onto the first wealthy fool to show an interest!'
'Isn't that what most fathers and guardians want for their daughters?' Felicity asked. 'And most girls prefer a man with a good income. Wasn't it Percy Royle's notion when you became betrothed to him? But in that case you were the wealthy one.'
Elizabeth dismissed this.
'That was long ago, and I was fortunate to be rid of him. I have not heard much of Lord Clifford. What do you know of him?'
Felicity frowned.
'If he is the Crispin Clifford I've heard of, he fought under Wellington, in the Peninsula, and distinguished himself. His father died a few years ago and he sold out to come and manage the estates. He's the only son, and his sister died as an infant. He has a manor in Hampshire, a town house, a hunting lodge in Leicestershire, and I think some other small estates. A large income, though I do not know how much. One of the most eligible bachelors on the marriage mart, but from all I hear not easily caught.'
'What of the girl, this Annamarie Kirkland? Do you know anything about her, and why she is his ward?'
'I haven't met any Kirklands, though I believe there is a family of that name in Hampshire. Perhaps they were Lord Clifford's neighbours?'
'Might George know?'
'I'll ask him, then I'll come and see you next week and tell you anything I can. I need more books for our school. I can order them. And it's time I visited your mother again. I've been neglectful.'
'She will enjoy that, so long as you bring plenty of gossip with you!'
Elizabeth drove back to Brighton in a thoughtful mood. She found Henry lounging in the drawing room, flicking over the pages of a book, but clearly not reading it.
'Where the devil have you been?' he demanded. 'I've been kicking my heels an age here.'
'Perhaps you could have been talking to Mama! You don't pay her enough attention.'
'She is always complaining about how ill she feels. There's a new ailment every day, and a new doctor, too, until she has run through them all and has to start at the beginning again. It's enough to drive a fellow to distraction. I'd go away somewhere if only you'd loosen the purse strings.'
'And leave your betrothed?'
'Ah, well, obviously I can't leave Brighton. But I'd find rooms somewhere. I can't even invite my friends here, she kicks up such a fuss if we make any noise.'
'Noise which I recall with some horror, since on the last occasion it kept us all awake till dawn.'
'Don't come the heavy sister on me! You could be rid of me altogether, since that appears to be what you want, if only you'd arrange for me to have enough to marry on. I only need enough to hire a small house, until I get full control of what Pa left me.'
'I'll not help you to ruin yourself.'
Henry flung the book across the room, glared at Elizabeth, and stormed out into the hall. He slammed the front door as he left the house, and she moved to the window to watch him stride along the Steine.
What was she to do with him?
*
Lady Markby decided they would attend the next ball at the Old Ship Assembly Rooms on Thursday. Her frail health never appeared to prevent her from enjoying certain activities, and at these balls she was able to see the latest visitors to the town and garner more gossip.
Henry frowned when Elizabeth, who had been with her mother writing answers to various notes from friends, informed him he was to escort them.
'Dammit, why does she have to go now? I was hoping to talk to Annamarie there, ask what her guardian has been saying. I haven't seen her for days. It's my belief he is confining her to the house.'
'Then will he permit her to attend a ball?'
'How do I know? I'll go and demand an answer from him if I don't see her soon.'
Elizabeth felt that would be unwise. She smiled as she imagined such a confrontation. Lord Clifford was not the man to respond favourably to an impassioned suitor's demands. However, as she needed a way to prevent a match Lord Clifford appeared to favour, perhaps she o
ught to encourage Henry to be imprudent and annoy his lordship. She shrugged. She would wait until after the ball.
Lady Markby could not decide which of her ballgowns to wear, but finally chose a rather ugly puce one with a train, and a matching puce turban. Elizabeth, dressed in her favourite periwinkle blue, edged with silver lace, and carrying a silver gauze shawl, was ready long before Joan, her mother's maid, fastened the famous Markby diamonds round her mistress's neck and helped her from her room and down to where the carriage waited. Henry, resplendent in his evening dress, was striding up and down the hall impatiently and the moment his mother appeared, rushed from the house to ensure the footman had the carriage door open and the steps down.
At the Assembly Rooms Lady Markby declined to ascend to the gallery, preferring to sit with other dowagers where she could, she said, talk to the dancers as well as her cronies.
'Do go and dance, dear,' she said to Elizabeth, and her daughter looked at her in some exasperation.
'By myself?' she asked. 'I need a partner.'
'Then will you accept me in that role?' a deep voice said behind her.
For a moment she froze. She knew that voice. Composing herself, she turned slowly to look at Lord Clifford, immaculate and more handsome than ever in evening dress. There was a twinkle in his dark, deep-set eyes, and his lips, well-shaped, were curved in amusement.
'Thank you sir,' she replied, dropping him a brief curtsey.
'Elizabeth, we have not been introduced!' Lady Markby hissed. Then in a louder voice, 'Very remiss, I feel. Make me known to his lordship, my dear. It is Lord Clifford, I believe? A neighbour of ours?'
'Indeed Ma'am. But I know you, of course. By repute. Have I your permission to dance with Miss Markby?'
'Yes, yes, go along, or you'll be too late for the set. But afterwards, my lord, come and talk to me.'
He bowed, and took Elizabeth's hand to lead her into the set. She was trying to stifle her giggles.
'I apologize for my mother, sir,' she said softly as they waited for the musicians to strike up.
'A difficult old lady, but her ill health must be an excuse.'
'Of course it is. She makes it so. She is by no means as ill as she would have us believe!'
'Indeed? You have my sympathy. But we should not be talking like this. I would not wish her to be worse than she is. Does she know yet of your brother's intentions towards my ward?'
'No, and I beg you will not mention it! I am hoping it will never be necessary to inform her of his folly.'
'If the proposed match falls through, you mean?'
'It will do, if I can frustrate it.'
'So you throw down the gauntlet?'
Before she could reply the music started and they had to separate. It was impossible to conduct a conversation during a country dance, since partners came together for no more than a few seconds at a time. One was always starting a sentence and having to break off as the movements of the dance separated people, Elizabeth thought crossly. But how else could she explain to Lord Clifford more about her objections to such a marriage?
She wondered if Annamarie was present, but in the swirling patterns of the dance, and because their their set was at one end of the long room, she could not see either Henry or Annamarie.
'Is the girl here?' she managed to say as the pattern of the dance brought them together momentarily.
He nodded, but there was time for nothing more, and Elizabeth resigned herself to waiting.
At the end of the dance he took her hand and drew her to the opposite end of the room from where her mother sat.
'Why should I deny the chit her enjoyment, and an opportunity to meet her betrothed?' he asked.
Elizabeth gritted her teeth. Was he being deliberately provocative?
'Then you have agreed to the match?'
'I am tempted to. Soon. After all, your brother is respectable, wealthy, young, and unattached, and seems to have developed a sincere affection for my ward.'
'But they are both too young!'
He smiled down at her. It was a most attractive smile and she was tempted to return it, and had to remind herself firmly that however engaging he was, he was her opponent in this matter, so important for Henry's future happiness.
'Miss Markby, I must soon return you to your mother. It is impossible to discuss a matter of such importance here. Will you ride with me one day? You do have a riding horse here, I believe?'
Had he seen her riding, she wondered. Whenever she could she escaped from the stifling insipidity of her mother's house to gallop on the Downs.
'Yes, I ride. But a serious conversation is almost as difficult on horseback as here, my lord.'
'We can dismount for a while. I will call for you at ten tomorrow morning. You can spare me a few hours, I hope?'
She agreed, and when they reached Lady Markby's corner was, despite herself, amused at the adroitness he displayed in answering her questions and deflecting the more impertinent of them. Without Lady Markby's realizing it, he managed not to inform her how many properties he possessed, what his income was, whether he had any dependents, or was considering marriage in the near future to ensure the succession.
She blushed for her mother. She thought she was accustomed to that lady's imperious manner, but she had never before minded it so much, resenting how badly the older woman appeared with her vulgar curiosity and uninhibited questions.
Glancing at Lord Clifford, she surprised him smothering a grin, and relaxed. If he found her mother amusing rather than annoying, she was thankful.
Eventually he took his leave. Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief. She did not see him again, but as she was popular with the older men she never lacked a partner. Once she saw Henry, keeping carefully to the far end of the room, but he was not with Annamarie, and she had no opportunity as they drove home or afterwards to ask if she had been present. Henry, with a muttered 'goodnight' ran up the stairs the moment they entered the house.
As usual after these events, Lady Markby insisted on an exhaustive discussion about the evening, demanding to know what Elizabeth had talked about with her various partners, interspersing that with her own comments and the spicier items of gossip she had heard from fellow dowagers. Elizabeth complied, reserving her comments about Lord Clifford for fear she might reveal Henry's secret.
As she finally escaped, she could think only that after her exertions Lady Markby would sleep late on the following morning, and she would be well away on the Downs before her mother demanded her presence.
*
Chapter 3
When Elizabeth came downstairs, dressed for riding, and went into the library to wait for Lord Clifford, she found one of the kittens meowing pitifully. It had somehow escaped from the kitchen, climbed up the curtains and become trapped, unable to work out how to climb down again.
'You ridiculous animal,' she chided, and tried to coax it down.
It was too frightened to respond apart from scrambling higher, until it reached the pole and balanced precariously on that. Any moment she was certain it was going to topple, and she was doubtful whether any of a cat's supposed nine lives would save it from a nasty fall.
It would be pointless asking any of the servants to help. The butler disliked the cat and its kittens, and would, had the cook not prevented him, have drowned them at birth. The footman, anxious to please the butler, would not have helped except to frighten the kitten even more. Elizabeth would have to do it herself.
The curtain pole was high, far too high to reach from the ground, She dragged over a sturdy chair, and holding up her habit, climbed onto it. It was still too far to reach the kitten, and the little animal, becoming increasingly more terrified, would not try to jump down to her.
There was a table close to the window, and Elizabeth managed to drag it closer. When she had scrambled up on that she could just reach the kitten, and ignoring its terrified, scratching claws as it tried to grab hold of her hand, she gently lifted it down. Standing on the table, she soo
thed it until it lost the frantic look in its eyes, and then she carefully slid to the ground, and sitting on the floor, cradling the kitten, began to croon to it, stroking it gently until, exhausted, it suddenly fell asleep in her arms.
Hampered by the long skirts of her habit, she found she was trapped, unable to rise to her feet without disturbing the little creature. When she tried to put it down on the floor beside her, in order to disentangle herself, it awoke in a panic, and she had to move swiftly to prevent it from leaping up the curtains again.
'You foolish moppet,' she murmured, and holding it carefully, tried to wriggle round onto her knees. It was useless, her skirts were wrapped round her legs so that she could barely move them.
She was concentrating so hard she didn't hear the door being opened, and looked up with a start when the butler announced Lord Clifford.
Laughing, she held out her free hand.
'I do beg your pardon for receiving you like this, but my skirts have trapped me. My lord, can you take hold of this little wretch while I free myself? Be careful, the poor mite is terrified, and will try to scratch you.'
He walked across the room towards her, seized the kitten by the scruff of its neck, and swiftly wrapped it in a large handkerchief, trapping the frantic paws. As Elizabeth struggled to her feet she saw him tickling the little creature under the chin, and soon heard a contented purring, amazingly loud from such a tiny body.
'You appear to have a way with animals. It scrambled up the curtain, and couldn't climb down.'
'And you rescued it? Dressed in long skirts?'
'Well, someone had to,' she said. 'If I'd sent for help it would have been even more terrified. But I didn't intend to get myself into such a pickle. Will you excuse me for a minute, while I take it back to the kitchen and restore it to its mother?'
'Keep the handkerchief round it,' he advised. 'You're already scratched,' he added, taking her hand in his free one.
Lord Clifford's Dilemma Page 3