He lifted her hand and pressed his lips to the back, sending jolts of energy sparking through her veins and setting her pulse racing.
‘What is more,’ he added in an even softer, infinitely more intimate tone, ‘you should not continue to punish yourself.’
Thea snatched her hand from his, heart hammering, cheeks burning. ‘I don’t know what you mean. I do not punish myself.’
He raised his wine glass and drank, his eyes never leaving her face.
‘I do not.’
‘You have buried yourself at Stourwell Court. You never go anywhere. You have given up on life and you should not. You have too much to offer.’
A lump swelled in her throat. She must change this conversation. She could not bear sympathy. Or kindness. She did not deserve it.
‘You said you wrote two letters?’
His eyes narrowed, as though he knew exactly why she had changed the subject.
‘Indeed. I also wrote to Leo. My brother.’
Thea still could not become accustomed to hearing Vernon talk about his brother—a duke—in such a casual manner and the reminder of the inequality in their positions in society added to the ache in her heart. She had battled so hard not to succumb to him. To protect her heart. She had failed. And that terrified her because, on top of what had happened to Daniel, she must face the agony of losing a man she feared she was falling in love with.
‘May I ask why?’ Her voice, remarkably, did not quiver.
‘I updated him on what has happened and asked him to send his man to Yarncott to make enquiries about that fire and then to come here to help us search for Daniel.’
And where was the role for her in Vernon’s plans? He would be busy building his rapport with the Temples—there would be little place for a young lad in their adult world, even if she could risk coming face to face with Mannington. Still less, she thought ruefully as she looked down at her nondescript clothing, a boy dressed as she happened to be. Thea’s involvement from henceforth would be strictly limited. The thought of Vernon leaving her behind whilst he nurtured his acquaintance with Miss Cordelia Temple and her father stirred a cauldron of fervent imaginings in her brain. She already disliked that woman with a quite unreasonable intensity.
She hadn’t heard Vernon move and yet, there he was, right beside her, his finger beneath her chin.
‘Chin up, Dotty. At least we are making some progress.’
She gazed up at him, their eyes locking, and his hand moved to cradle her cheek, setting her pulse skittering and anticipation swirling deep in her core. Before she could react—either to rebuff or to encourage—he snatched his hand away with a muttered oath and returned to his chair.
‘Finish your meal,’ he said. ‘It is growing late and I suggest we should retire early tonight...the less we are seen until my clothing arrives, the better.’
* * *
The following afternoon Thea pressed her nose against the window of her bedchamber, which overlooked the street outside the Crown. Vernon was below, on the street, his chestnut waves gleaming in the sunlight as he spoke to Bickling, who stood at the heads of Vernon’s blacks.
Thea propped her elbow on the windowsill and her chin on her hand and brooded. For all her talk about eavesdropping on Mannington upon his return, she knew very well she had not the courage. The thought of being unmasked...she shivered with fear. There was much at stake from Mannington’s point of view and who knew what lengths he would be driven to in order to protect himself? For that matter, who knew what lengths he had already gone to? No. Vernon’s plan did have the best chance of success but, with the duke’s man also coming to assist, where did that leave Thea? What was there left for her to do?
Sit here and brood, that is what.
At least they were safe within the inn. Mr Horwell had acted precisely as Vernon predicted, unable to keep the true identity of his illustrious guest to himself, and now the entire inn knew he was really a lord. Thea—as the Viscount’s nephew—had been assumed his heir and was accordingly treated with much respect by the staff.
And now, here was Bickling, and Vernon had not even bothered to tell Thea he had arrived. She felt the gap between the two of them widening already. She flung away from the window and went to the door. She needed fresh air and exercise. Perhaps she could persuade Vernon to accompany her on a ride.
Vernon and Bickling were still deep in conversation when Thea reached the street. Both men looked up on her approach and she hesitated, but Vernon smiled and beckoned her over.
Not by a flicker of an eye did Bickling reveal his surprise.
‘Master Theo,’ he said, touching his cap.
She smiled and nodded at the groom, then said to Vernon, ‘I thought I might go for a ride. It is like being in prison, being cooped up indoors all day and, strangely, I have missed the activity.’
‘Have you indeed? Well, there is no accounting for it, I suppose. I thought you might enjoy the rest. Wait there, I shall instruct the groom to saddle the horses and we can leave Bickling to see to these two.’
Vernon strode through the arch to the stable yard. Before Bickling could follow him, Thea said, ‘I trust all was well at the Court when you left?’
The groom nodded. ‘Well enough,’ he said. He lowered his voice. ‘Though that man of yours... Malky...he took a might of persuading not to come along with me, ’e’s that worried about you.’
‘There is no need for him to worry. He knows I am with Lord Vernon.’
‘That,’ said Bickling, flicking a glance towards the archway through which Vernon had disappeared, ‘appears to be what troubles him. Only I told him, I did, ’e’s no need to fret on that account ’cause...beggin’ your pardon, miss...you’m not to his lordship’s usual taste and I told him so, I did.’
His words were no surprise, but she nevertheless felt the blow to her heart. It was quite one thing to tell yourself that you weren’t up to snuff—another slang term taught to her by Vernon—but quite another to be told the same by someone else.
She raised her chin. ‘What you fail to realise, Bickling, is that—even were I to his lordship’s usual taste, as you so charmingly put it—his lordship would be destined for quite a disappointment for he is most definitely not to mine.’
She ground her teeth as she caught Bickling’s smirk before he leaned into the curricle and extracted a bag from beneath the seat.
‘Malky got one of the maids to pack you some clothes, miss. Dresses, they are. Just in case, he said, though it doesn’t look like you’ll have need of them. I’ll have the bag sent up to your room, shall I?’
Slightly mollified, Thea thanked Bickling and watched as he began to lead the horses through to the rear of the hotel. It was not long before Vernon returned, leading Warrior and Star.
‘Do you not wish to change your clothes before we go?’ she asked him.
‘There is little point, with you still resembling a barrow boy,’ Vernon said with a wink. ‘Unfortunately, there is little we can do about that. And, besides, there is no time to waste. Are you able to mount without help?’ he added, as he checked Star’s girth.
‘You know that I am,’ she responded sharply and pushed her left foot into the stirrup iron, springing up to the saddle. ‘You have seen me do so often enough during our journey.’
‘True.’ Vernon mounted Warrior and then reined him around to ride in the direction of the river. ‘But I should like to be able to treat you as I would normally treat a lady. I cannot help but feel guilty about everything you have been forced to endure over the past few days.’
‘There is no need,’ Thea said as Star ranged alongside Warrior. ‘It was my choice to accompany you. And, before you suggest it again, I have no intention of going home.’
‘I am glad.’
‘You are? I thought you were eager to be rid of me.�
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She glanced at his profile, glimpsing his rueful expression even as he kept his attention squarely on the road before them.
‘I should not admit to this, but I would miss you if you went.’ A muscle twitched in his jaw. ‘I have become accustomed to having you around.’ He turned to look at her, his green eyes boring into her. ‘I have enjoyed being with you.’
Thea’s stomach swooped. What did he mean? Did he have feelings for her? Should she speak words of encouragement? But fear kept her silent. She could not bear the humiliation of misunderstanding him...of him trying to explain what he really meant...
Bickling’s words came back to haunt her.
You’m not to his lordship’s usual taste.
And who should know his master’s predilections better than his groom, who would accompany him almost everywhere he went?
‘You will soon forget me, when you go back to London,’ she said dismissively.
Vernon reached for her hand. ‘I shall not fo—’
Thea knocked his hand aside. ‘Stop that,’ she hissed. ‘What if someone were to see? They would think you no better than that Wigbert Pooley.’
For once it was not Thea’s cheeks that reddened, but Vernon’s. ‘My apologies,’ he said, stiffly. ‘I was forgetting myself.’
‘I am sorry if you think I overreacted,’ Thea said, following a pause, needing to soothe, hating that she’d made him uncomfortable. ‘I did not mean to snap at you.’
‘No. You were right, I was wrong. Look, Thea...’ Vernon reined Warrior to a halt and twisted in the saddle to face her ‘...this...’ he gestured between the two of them ‘...I feel a little as though...’ He stared down at his hands, then heaved in a breath. ‘I don’t know. This is not real... We are in such a strange...’
His voice trailed into silence. They had stopped by the bridge and Vernon now looked over the river. Thea followed his gaze. On the opposite bank she could see a portly gentleman, clad in a black tailcoat and a tall-crowned hat, walking by the river. On his arm was a tall figure Thea had no trouble recognising: Miss Cordelia Temple.
‘There they are,’ Vernon said and sent Warrior forward across the bridge.
Thea followed. ‘You sound as though you expected to see them.’
‘They are the reason we have come this way. Horwell told me it is their custom to take an afternoon promenade along the river in fine weather. I hoped we might encounter them.’
‘But...you said I must stay hidden from them.’
‘Another thing I was wrong about. Well, not wrong precisely. Unfair? Yes. Unfair. You were right, you cannot remain hidden away for however many days it takes to uncover the truth about Daniel. You can develop—oh, I don’t know, a fever of some description once Mannington returns. Until then, you may consider yourself out of prison.’
He threw her a crooked grin that sent her heart racing. Then she looked again at Miss Cordelia Temple and that surge of excitement drained away as she took in the American girl’s elegant figure, draped in a silk gown that matched the blue of the sky. White lace and ribbons adorned both her gown and her matching bonnet, and she twirled a white lace parasol over one shoulder.
‘But—’
‘Shhh, now. Take care.’
Chapter Sixteen
As they passed by the Temples, Vernon reined Warrior around and raised his hat. ‘Good afternoon,’ he said with a bow of his head. ‘Do I have the pleasure of addressing Mr Temple?’
His voice, unlike the softer, gentler tone he used when conversing with Thea, was clipped and haughty. Aristocratic. His transformation into an entitled nobleman despite his slightly disreputable-looking clothing made Thea stare. This man was far removed from the Vernon she had come to know. Was this how he normally looked and behaved and spoke? Self-confidence appeared to ooze from every pore—as it had, she realised with a start of memory, the day they first met.
Mr Temple and his daughter halted, and Temple frowned as he studied Vernon with something approaching disdain.
‘You do,’ he said, his accent strange to Thea’s ears.
‘Forgive my informality in addressing you without an introduction,’ Vernon said, ‘but we are fellow guests at the Crown and I could not ride past without acknowledgement. Boyton is the name.’
Temple’s eyes widened. ‘Lord Boyton?’
‘Indeed. I beg you will excuse my appearance. I am afraid our luggage has been waylaid and my nephew and I have been forced to resort to borrowed clothing.’
‘I did hear a story of the sort,’ Temple said. ‘So it is true.’
Vernon inclined his head, whilst Thea lurked in the background, her eyes fixed on Cordelia Temple, taking in her poise, her glowing, golden skin and, glimpsed under that exquisite bonnet, her smooth black hair.
I’ll bet Miss Cordelia Temple is ‘to his lordship’s usual taste’.
Jealousy, hot and sour, burned in her throat.
‘Might I present my daughter, Cordelia?’ Temple said.
Vernon slid from Warrior’s back with fluid grace and tossed the reins to Thea. She watched, her heart twisting as Vernon took the heiress’s proffered hand and raised it to his lips.
‘Enchanté, Miss Temple.’
The girl inclined her head gracefully and then raised her gaze to Vernon’s, meeting it with self-assurance. Dismay weaved its tentacles through Thea. How could she bear this? She could not even comfort herself that Cordelia was ugly, or coarse. She soon found herself the object of scrutiny from those dark eyes. Cordelia’s lips curved as she raised her beautifully arched brows.
‘And your companion, my lord?’
‘My nephew, Theo,’ Vernon said. ‘He is somewhat shy, I fear. That is why we are travelling around England together, in an effort to accustom him to strangers.’
‘Then we must help you to help him,’ Miss Temple said. ‘Pops, we should invite Lord Boyton and Master Theo to join us for dinner. That—’ she switched her smile from Thea to Vernon ‘—is the best way for Theo to engage in conversation.’
Thea smiled a secret smile at Vernon’s horrified expression. ‘But he is too young to dine with adults.’
‘Oh, we do things differently back home and that’s a fact,’ Mr Temple said. ‘Of course the boy is welcome. Not tonight, mind you. I’m dining with a couple of businessmen, making contacts and building relationships for the future.’ He winked and tapped his nose with one finger. ‘There’s trouble ahead for our two nations and Samuel Temple will be one step ahead of the competition, you better believe me. That’s the way to make money and that’s a fact. Now, how long did you say you are in the area, my lord?’
‘A week or so, I should imagine,’ Vernon said.
A week? Thea almost gasped out loud in her horror until she realised how much time Vernon would need to get close to Mannington once he returned. A whole week, watching Vernon toadying up to that...that... She realised Miss Temple’s gaze was upon her and she blanked her expression.
‘How old are you, Theo? Fourteen? Fifteen?’
‘Fifteen, miss.’
These past days had been the only time since her childhood that Thea had blessed her naturally deep voice. Before she had always cursed it, hating how unfeminine she sounded and the fact that she could not sing to save her life. Daniel had teased her about it mercilessly. The thought of her brother steadied her. They had to find out what had happened to Daniel. Nobody had seen him since he left Birmingham. It was as though he had vanished into thin air. It did not matter how much she might dislike Miss Temple, Thea must play her part.
‘Will you do me the honour of taking my arm, Miss Temple?’
Vernon sketched a bow and crooked his elbow. Cordelia smiled graciously as she tucked her hand in his elbow and they began to stroll along the riverbank. Mr Temple, a wide beam lighting his face, walked on
her other side, leaving Thea, riding Star and leading Warrior, to bring up the rear.
‘My lord, this will not do.’ Cordelia slipped her arm from Vernon’s after a few minutes and stepped aside, waiting for Thea and the two horses to draw level. ‘You say it is your aim to accustom your nephew to strangers and yet you abandon him to ride alone in our wake.’
The full force of her smile—smooth cherry-red lips and sparkling white, even teeth—was directed at Thea. She felt her cheeks heat and, at that, Cordelia laughed—a low, musical sound—then reached up and patted Thea’s hand.
‘No need to be embarrassed. Come walk with me...may I call you Theo? And you must call me Cordelia.’ She tossed her head in Vernon’s direction, then turned her attention back to Thea. ‘What do you say? Let the gentlemen walk ahead and talk of business and other tedious matters, and you may tell me about your life and I shall confide in you about mine.’ She winked. ‘Although you must promise not to reveal my secrets to your uncle,’ she added in a whisper.
Thea’s spirits plunged. Cordelia was nice. She was being kind to a youth who she thought was feeling awkward and unsure of himself. That knowledge made Thea feel worse for her dislike, which was not based upon the woman herself but upon Thea’s own irrational jealousy. Given other circumstances, Cordelia Temple might be a friend.
‘Miss Temple!’ Vernon had halted and turned. He glanced at Thea, an impish gleam in his green eyes, before striking a dramatic pose, one hand pressed to his chest, the other extended to Cordelia. ‘You strike a callous blow to my pride and my heart,’ he pronounced. ‘Will you indeed desert me for so green a youth? Come. Take my arm once more. Do not, I beg you, abandon me.’
Scandal and Miss Markham Page 16