Lord Kane's Keepsake

by Sandra Heath

  Gerald didn’t respond, but closed the back of the clock and replaced it in its original position.

  Angry footsteps sounded at the door, and Gerald moved swiftly away from the fireplace, standing instead near a small table upon which there stood a decanter of cognac and a number of glasses. He picked up the decanter and began to pour two measures just as the doors burst open and Lord Avenley came furiously in.

  It was obvious that he had indeed been resting, for he was still tying the belt of his purple paisley dressing gown, which he had pulled hastily on over his shirt and breeches. His hair was untidy, his eyepatch had been put on in a hurry, and he became very wary and suspicious as he saw who his visitors were. “What is the meaning of this?” he demanded.

  Lord Castlereagh sketched a cool bow. “Upon my soul, Avenley, you look all of a fluster,” he observed.

  Lord Avenley ignored him, giving Gerald his full attention. “To what do I owe the unexpected honor of this call, my lord?” he asked.

  Gerald replaced the decanter on the table and then picked up one of the glasses, glancing around the room as he did so. His gaze fell upon the miniature of Margot. He went toward it, studying it carefully. “Not a good likeness,” he murmured.

  “Why are you here?” Lord Avenley demanded again.

  Gerald continued to study the little portrait. “Margot’s eyes were not as large as that, and the artist has prudently omitted her rather unbecoming freckles.”

  Lord Avenley’s eye was very hard and bright. “I will not ask you again, my lord. Why are you here?”

  Gerald turned to survey him. “I think you know the answer to that, Avenley. I am given to understand that you have been pestering Miss Rutherford in a very disagreeable and ungentlemanly fashion, and I have come to find out what you have to say for yourself.’’

  Lord Avenley’s gaze slid guardedly toward Lord Castlereagh, and then back to Gerald again. “You should not believe everything you’re told, Kane, for I have not been the one doing the pestering. The lady is very importunate, you know.”

  “Indeed?”

  “Dammit, Kane, you and I may not have been boon companions over the years, indeed I would go so far as to say that we cordially despise each other, but even so I would not wish such an abandoned creature on you. She is quite without shame, you know.”

  “I’m touched that you should show such concern for me,” Gerald replied.

  “I am not entirely without redeeming features,” Lord Avenley murmured, going to the table and picking up the other glass of cognac. He appeared to be recovering apace from the shock of the visit, but both Gerald and Lord Castlereagh noticed how he downed the glass in one swallow.

  “I’m rather afraid that you have no redeeming features at all, Avenley,” Gerald said quietly.

  “I don’t much care for your tone, Kane.”

  “And I don’t much care for the fact that you have purloined the Keepsake.”

  Lord Avenley’s lips parted, and his eye shone cleverly. “What are you talking about, Kane? I don’t know anything about your damned Keepsake.”

  “How strange,” Gerald said softly, moving to the mantelpiece and turning the clock.

  Lord Avenley drew warily back as the Keepsake was removed from its hiding place. “I know nothing of this, Kane—”

  “Don’t add insult to injury, Avenley,” Lord Castlereagh interrupted. “The Keepsake is where you put it, and it is here in this house because you had it stolen. You are a lamentable excuse for a gentleman, sirrah, indeed I think you are simply lamentable.”

  Lord Avenley whipped around to face him. “You have my word that I know nothing of this! I put it to you that in her desire to be avenged because I spurned her advances, Miss Rutherford hid it there herself in order to incriminate me.”

  “Miss Rutherford has no idea where the Keepsake is, Avenley, save that you have it here.”

  “Then how … ? The maid!” Sudden realization brought the words instantly to Lord Avenley’s lips.

  Gerald gave a cold smile. “Yes, indeed. The maid. Keyholes are so very informative, are they not?” His smile faded. “I will have satisfaction for this, Avenley.”

  Lord Avenley remained absolutely still, a thousand and one expressions passing through the brightness of his eye.

  “I’m calling you out, Avenley,” repeated Gerald. “That is, if you are man enough to face me equally.”

  The taunt found its target, and the mask slipped from Lord Avenley’s face, leaving his loathing there in all its naked ugliness. “You’ll have your satisfaction, Kane!”

  “And don’t make the mistake of thinking that this has anything to do with Margot, for she could not matter less to me.”

  “Damn you, Kane! Margot was mine!”

  “And I surrendered her more than gladly, you may count upon that!”

  “You kept her close, Kane, you refused her her freedom, and when she ran away from you she was killed in that carriage overturn.”

  Gerald shook his head. “You were but the last of many lovers she had, Avenley, although I did not realize it at first. When I found out, however, you may be sure that I gave her her congé. When she saw that I meant to divorce her, she suddenly discovered the error of her ways. She begged me to forgive her, and she swore she’d be faithful to me. But I no longer wanted such a wife, and I told her that you were welcome to her. In the end she accepted that I would not change my mind, and that was when she left to go to you.’’

  “You’re lying!” breathed Lord Avenley, his face still ugly with hatred.

  “I fear not, Avenley.”

  “If what you claim is the truth, why have you never said anything? Why have you allowed society to believe that you were heartbroken over losing her?”

  “Because she wasn’t worth it, and because I chose not to air my dirty washing in public, Avenley. She had gone, never to return, and I saw no point in blackening her name after the event. If you recall, her father fell dangerously ill after her death, and for his sake as well I left matters as they were. By the time he died, it was all so much in the past that it no longer mattered to me. You should have left well alone, Avenley, for now you not only have to swallow a rather bitter pill but also to face me with pistols before this day is out.’’

  Lord Castlereagh looked at him in surprise. “Before this day is out? Would it not be prudent to allow the usual negotiations to take place between seconds, and so on?”

  Gerald shook his head, his gaze not moving from Lord Avenley. “I see no reason to wait, do you, Avenley?”

  A nerve twitched at the corner of Lord Avenley’s mouth. “No reason at all, Kane. I am at your disposal.”

  “Then, shall we say at three this afternoon? On Putney Heath, where my friend here bettered the foreign secretary?”

  “As you wish.”

  Gerald put the Keepsake in his pocket and then gave Lord Avenley an icy smile. “You’re going to pay a very heavy price for daring to hurt Miss Rutherford, and by the time I’ve finished with you, you’re going to wish you’d never even heard her name.”

  “You seem to be under the illusion that you’re going to emerge the victor, Kane,” replied the other.

  “Oh, I am, Avenley. I am,” Gerald said. “This is one occasion upon which you would be very unwise to wager, unless it be upon your defeat. Until three o’clock.” With a cold nod of his head he walked past Lord Avenley and out of the room.

  Lord Castlereagh lingered for a moment. “How unfortunate that you’ve upset him so deeply, Avenley, for he is really rather dangerous when provoked. I once saw him shoot an apple from a post at a really unconscionably long distance. Correct me if I am wrong, but are you not somewhat larger than an apple? A bientôt, my friend.” Bowing, he followed Gerald, leaving Lord Avenley standing alone in the drawing room.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  After returning Lord Castlereagh to his house at number eighteen St. James’s Square, Gerald drove swiftly to Grosvenor Square to make the promised call upon Emma
. Saunders greeted him at the door with the polite but firm reply that Miss Rutherford was not at home.

  Gerald held the butler’s uneasy gaze. “Am I to understand that Miss Rutherford is really not at home, or am I being refused entry?”

  Saunders shifted his feet uncomfortably. “My lord, I—”

  He said no more, for at that moment the library door opened in the house behind him, and Mr. Rutherford emerged unwarily, not having realized that Gerald was at the door. In a trice, just as Lord Avenley had trapped Emma before him, Gerald addressed her father.

  “May I have a word with you, sir?” he asked.

  Mr. Rutherford halted in dismay, for after all that Emma had said, he had instructed Saunders not on any account to admit Gerald,

  Gerald stepped past Saunders and walked purposefully toward the library. “I must speak with you, sir.”

  Saunders was in a quandary, for the thought of maybe having to lay a hand upon a peer of the realm in order to forcibly expel him from the premises filled the butler with dread. He lingered by the door, praying that Mr. Rutherford would consent to Lord Kane’s request.

  Emma’s father faced Gerald a little frostily. “My lord, I do not think that you and I have anything to say to each other. Your conduct has been abominable, and since it has also pleased you to end the negotiations for the match, I—”

  “I have been gravely in error, sir, and I freely admit it. It is most certainly not my wish to end the match, and it is about this that I need to speak with you. My purpose in coming here was to see Emma, but she will not see me.”

  “Can you blame her, sir? And as to your free and ill-placed familiarity in using her first name, I think that more formality is called for now, do you not agree?”

  Gerald exhaled slowly, nodding his concurrence. “I more than understand, sir, but all I ask of you now is that you hear what I have to say.”

  “In mitigation?”

  “Yes.”

  Mr. Rutherford pursed his lips. “My lord, I fail to see what can be said in mitigation where the Countess of Purbeck is concerned.”

  “The countess was not at St. James’s Square at my invitation, sir.”

  “But nevertheless she remained beneath your roof for at least one night,” Emma’s father replied coolly. “My lord, do you deny that the lady has been more to you than she should have been, seeing that she is another man’s wife?”

  Gerald shook his head reluctantly. “I can hardly deny something which is common knowledge in society, sir, but I repeat to you, as I have already said to Miss Rutherford, that the countess was a very fleeting and much-regretted mistake on my part. The interlude was over and done with well before I had even heard of your family, and there has certainly not been any repeat of the error.”

  “Nevertheless, the lady stayed with you last night.”

  “She came to me in distress, Mr. Rutherford, and she has now left my residence to go to her sister in Northumberland.”

  “Distress?”

  “Her husband has indicated that he intends to divorce her, not because of her infidelities, but because she had persistently and willfully lied to him about the character of his son. The son was believed to have died in Greece, but has recently returned, and the countess’s malice toward him has been revealed. As a consequence, she was turned out of Purbeck Park, and so she—”

  “And so she came to you,” Mr. Rutherford interrupted quietly. “My lord, I find it a little odd that she should turn to you, if indeed your, er, dealings with her were so very transitory.”

  Gerald drew a long breath. “I concede that it must look questionable to you, sir, but I swear that what I have told you is the truth. What I haven’t told you is that although I very swiftly ended the liaison with her, she did not wish the matter to come to a close. She has persistently endeavored to regain my affections, and I have resisted her importuning, both because I deeply regret breaking my own rule about becoming involved with other men’s wives and because I no longer feel anything for her.

  “If this makes me appear shabby, then there is little I can do about it, but I am telling you because I wish to convince you that what seems to have been going on has in fact not been going on at all. I gave the countess shelter last night, and I did so in the firm knowledge that she would use the opportunity to her advantage if she could. She failed, and this morning she departed for her sister’s home in the north.

  “Whatever the countess has said or done where Miss Rutherford is concerned, has been done out of jealousy and spite, you have my word upon that. Since knowing your daughter, sir, I have not given the countess any reason at all to hope that I would return to her.’’

  Mr. Rutherford studied him. “And you swear that at no time at all have you succumbed to the countess’s unwanted advances?”

  For a moment Gerald’s thoughts flew back to the evening before, and the way Raine had come to him in the drawing room. He had succumbed then, because he had been in a turmoil over learning that Emma had lied about being ill and had then gone to Avenley House. Guilt washed over him anew as he recalled giving in to Raine’s seductive embrace, but his senses had not been long in cooling, and after one single kiss he had held her away.

  Mr. Rutherford watched him. “You do not answer, my lord,” he said quietly.

  “Whatever may have passed between the countess and me, it was transitory, and meant nothing. She has no place in my life or my heart, and last night I merely gave her shelter.”

  “Lord Kane, it seems to be that you cannot categorically deny that something occurred last night, and so I am afraid that you have not offered sufficient evidence in mitigation for your appalling conduct. Stained with guilt yourself, you had the gall to accuse my innocent daughter of your own misdemeanors.

  “I find that monstrously ignoble, sir, and I do not care that you now express a desire to continue with the match, for I have decided that my daughter is too good for you. I am exceedingly sorry that the Keepsake is now in Lord Avenley’s possession, and if I can persuade him to return it, then I will do so, for you may be assured that I have no intention of allowing any cloud to hang over my family. The Keepsake was in our possession when it was stolen, and so I regard it as my duty and obligation to do all I can to restore it to you. I intend to call upon Lord Avenley this afternoon.”

  “Mr. Rutherford, I have already repossessed the Keepsake, and I can tell you that Avenley will be very busy this afternoon.”

  Emma’s father was relieved to hear about the Keepsake, but then looked quickly at him. “You’ve challenged him?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, I am sure that the theft of a family heirloom is indeed cause enough,” Mr. Rutherford replied.

  “You may feel justified in applying such a qualification to my reasons, sir, but I assure you you are not. The Keepsake is actually of little consequence to me in all this, but Miss Rutherford is not. It is primarily on account of Avenley’s unspeakable treatment of your daughter that I intend to face him this afternoon, and whether you believe it or not, sir, the fact remains that she is my sole concern in this.

  “I accept that my conduct has led to the ending of the match, but I now intend to redress the balance, and I promise you that your daughter’s honor will be defended. Good-bye, Mr. Rutherford, I only wish that things had not reached this pass.” Inclining his head, Gerald turned and left.

  Mr. Rutherford gazed after him, and then lowered his eyes as Saunders closed the door. He too wished that things had not reached this pass, for in spite of everything, he could not entirely dislike the man who had broken Emma’s heart. There was something about Lord Kane that encouraged belief, and denied mistrust.

  Outside, Gerald paused on the pavement. Turning quickly, he glanced up at the drawing-room windows, and was just in time to see Emma’s pale, tearstained face before she pulled hastily back out of sight. He continued to gaze at the window, but she did not reappear, and after about a minute he climbed back into his waiting carriage to drive back to St. J
ames’s Square to prepare for the duel.

  From the drawing-room window, Emma watched him drive away. She felt empty inside, as if her whole being had suddenly lost all substance. She had listened from the landing to everything that Gerald had said to her father, and she had so wanted to believe him that it had been all she could do not to run down to him. But pride, and a need to protect her heart from further pain, had held her back. She didn’t trust him anymore, and without trust, what was left?

  *

  When it was time to leave for the appointment on Putney Heath, Gerald’s carriage drove around St. James’s Square to Lord Castlereagh’s residence on the western side, by the corner of King Street.

  It was a four-story building, with a basement that was separated from the pavement by a fine iron railing. Built of brick, with stone facings, it boasted a full-length iron balcony that stretched across all four windows of the second floor, and although not the largest or most beautiful house in the square, it was certainly one of the most elegant.

  The carriage halted at the curb, and Gerald alighted. He wore a wine-red coat, gold armazine waistcoat, and gray breeches beneath an astrakhan-collared greatcoat. The greatcoat was double-breasted and fitted to the waist, with a long skirt that reached almost to the ankles of his highly polished Hessian boots.

  There was a high-crowned hat on his dark hair, and at his throat he wore a full starched neckcloth which sported a fine ruby pin. He carried a gold-handled cane in his gloved hand, and he swung it idly to and fro as he approached the house.

  Lord Castlereagh’s butler admitted him immediately, and he stepped into the blue-and-cream entrance hall, where Lord Castlereagh and his wife were just descending the curving black-marble staircase. Lord Castlereagh wore a dove-gray coat and gray breeches with a sky-blue brocade waistcoat and a golden pin in his neckcloth. His black greatcoat, hat, gloves, and cane lay waiting on a console table.

  Lady Castlereagh was dressed in a pink velvet gown, with a matching bandeau around her forehead, and her eyes were large and anxious as she hurried across the black-and-red-tiled floor to greet Gerald.