Suddenly, Debenham realized that, rather than lose his ward, he would allow this masquerade to continue indefinitely. And when he asked himself why, there could be only one answer: in spite of the difference in their ages, in spite of her dubious birth, and in spite of the fact that he was betrothed to another woman, the Earl of Debenham had fallen in love for the first time in his life—and with a nameless chit of a girl half his age.
Four
Lord Debenham slept badly that night. Tossing and turning restlessly in the disordered bed, his powerful mind grappled with the tangle confronting him. He could find no solution. He had fallen deeply in love with his ward, yet he was plighted to Lady Amelia. As a gentleman, it was not possible for him to draw back from the engagement; to attempt to do so would be to offer Lady Amelia an unpardonable insult. She was not to be blamed if the cold and loveless match envisaged by Debenham no longer satisfied him, nor did she deserve to be exposed to the ridicule of their small world.
He arose unrefreshed that morning with his mind made up. Kit, or Kitty as he supposed he must become accustomed to thinking of her, must be allowed to reveal the truth in her own time. He, therefore, should remove himself from her vicinity, lest the strain of the situation should force an ill-timed disclosure from him.
Kitty was already seated at the breakfast table when he entered the sunny dining room. She was dressed for riding in immaculately cut breeches and a fine lawn shirt of unsullied purity. All signs of grief had left the lovely countenance, and she greeted Debenham with composure.
“Forgive me, Sir. I fear I put you to the trouble of carrying me to my bed last night. I am exceedingly sorry.”
“Not at all, Kit,” replied the Earl politely. “In truth, you weigh remarkably little for a growing boy.”
There was a silence, then: “I have been ill, Sir” she stammered.
“Indeed?” said Debenham with a sardonic smile. “Then we really must feed you up a little, must we not, Kit? Unfortunately, I shall be unable to supervise your diet myself as I shall be leaving shortly, but my housekeeper will, I am sure, be delighted to accept the task.”
“You are not going away, Sir?” she questioned, a note of regret in her voice.
“I am sorry, but I am afraid I must, Kit. My betrothed is entitled to my support during the preparations for our marriage. I have been too long absent from her side already.”
“Yes, indeed, you must go,” she agreed with a little sigh. “But what shall I do with myself while you are gone?”
Lord Debenham smiled. “I fear you may not approve of my plans for you, my young friend. I propose to continue your education, which, although excellent in some areas, appears to be somewhat lacking on the academic side. When I reach London, I shall endeavour to engage masters for you who will be able to instruct you in the rudiments of Latin, Greek, History, and so forth.”
To his surprise, this suggestion found instant favour. Kitty bestowed a dazzling smile upon her benefactor and exclaimed, “How kind you are, dear Sir! If only you knew how often I have felt my ignorance and longed to improve myself!”
“I am glad!” Debenham found that he was gazing straight into limpid blue eyes and, with some difficulty, withdrew his own.
He would have left her then but, with a word, she detained him. She stood before him, slim and straight in her severe boy's garb.
“Sir, before you go, there is something I must say to you.” For one moment, he thought she was going to trust him with the truth and hardly knew whether to be glad or sorry when her next words dispelled that hope.
“I want to tell you, Sir, how very grateful I am to you for taking me. And for bringing me to this lovely place. I fear that I was not very polite to you when we first met, but I want you to know that I am happy to be here and that I intend to do my best to make you proud of me.”
“I am already proud of you, Kit,” he answered and was taken aback when she suddenly took his hand and pressed it to her lips.
“Goodbye, dear Sir,” she cried and fled from the room. Later, she sat dry-eyed at her chamber window and watched Debenham ride away on his long-tailed bay, thinking as he rode out of view that there went the only friend she had in the whole of this strange land. She wondered when she would see him again and, briefly, she allowed her imagination to dwell on the scene, which must inevitably come, when she disclosed to the unsuspecting Earl that his ward was not quite what she appeared.
There was nothing romantic in these speculations. Kitty had been wearing her boy's clothes for so long now that she had ceased to think of herself as a girl at all. It had begun seven years ago when Mr Clareville, having mislaid his wife after a rather unpleasant little incident with the authorities in Budapest, had found himself in sole charge of a little girl who appeared to have grown at a quite alarming rate and who, at the age of twelve, was already attracting the attention of the unsavoury characters with whom her father surrounded himself. It had seemed to the careless yet affectionate father that his solution of the problem was ideal. Kitty might remain with him in perfect safety and eventually would become his companion and fellow adventurer. To this end, he taught her all he knew, which was considerable, of the art of duello, of card play, and dissimulation—in fact, all the tricks of his trade. They roamed the capitals of Europe, sometimes rich, more often not, yet always accepting their lot with charm and wit. This had been her life for five carefree years until, with uncharacteristic earnestness, Mr Clareville had taken up the cause of the unhappy prince, whose defeat had brought his followers to the gallows.
As she sat now at the window of an English country house, gazing across the gentle English countryside, Kitty felt that she was an intruder in this peaceful land. Her past life ceased to appear carefree and romantic and seemed to her merely shoddy. She resolved with all her heart to become more worthy of her new home and of her guardian.
It was unfortunate for these good resolutions that boredom very soon drove her to seek out some form of entertainment that afternoon, and one of the first persons she encountered upon leaving her chamber was the shy young footman whose acquaintance she had made the previous day. Two hours later, she was richer by the footman's wages and had succeeded in demoralizing the rest of the household to such an extent that Mrs Goulding, the fat housekeeper, declared that Master had taken a viper to his bosom. Conscience-stricken, Kitty returned her victim's wages with interest and, in reparation, offered to teach him the tricks whereby she had deprived him of them.
With some difficulty, she succeeded in inveigling her way back into the good graces of the household and was soon seated happily in the homely kitchen, relating stories of her past adventures, between mouthfuls of Mrs Goulding's famous pastries.
That good lady was quite shocked at what Kitty, in the most innocent manner, related of her life with her father.
“But what about your mother, child?” she asked. “Do not tell me that she did not try to bring you up better than that.”
“Indeed she did,” replied Kit readily. “But, you see, we lost her when I was only twelve years old.”
“Poor dear child, to lose a mother so young. You must think of her in Heaven watching over you, as I'll be bound she does.”
“I should not think so, Ma'am,” answered Kit, considering the matter. “When last we heard, she was in Vienna.”
“I thought you said she died when you were small,” objected a lounging footman at this point.
“No, what I said was that we lost her,” reminded Kitty with a mischievous look, “and that is quite true.”
“What was she like, Master Kit?” inquired the second-footman, on whom the romance of Kit's narration was having an unsettling effect.
Kitty thought for a moment. “Well, she was very handsome and I remember that she always smelled sweetly.” Kitty’s voice was just a little wistful as she described her lost mother, and Mrs Goulding silenced the rest of the servants with a frown, sending them about their business. With a sigh, Kitty returned to the colder, if more
magnificent, regions above stairs, where she found solace in exploring the Earl's excellent library until dinner time.
She dined in solitary state, rather enjoying the unaccustomed sensation. But it was dull work when all was said and done, and it was with relief that she retired to her chamber that night hopeful that the morrow would bring company in the form of the masters the Earl had promised her.
Kitty arose betimes the next morning to take a refreshing gallop before breakfast. The beautiful mare of Debenham's providing was fresh and playful and as eager for the exercise as her mistress. Clad in an excellently tailored coat of claret broadcloth, her tricorne perched at a jaunty angle over one eye, she looked the very picture of a dashing young gentleman, and knowing it, she revelled in the freedom her imposture gave her. The morning sunshine bathed the meadows in a hazy golden glow as she rode briskly out of the park and down the narrow lanes, which, she had learned from a groom, led onto long grassy stretches where she could allow the mare her head.
About an hour later, she judged by the position of the sun overhead that it was time to turn back. The mare wheeled round willingly enough, and they began to trot back towards the house whose chimneys could just be seen above the trees before them. As they came abreast of the trees, Kitty suddenly became aware that she was not unobserved. A dark figure, splendidly mounted, detached itself from the shadows and placed itself squarely in Kitty's way.
Kitty was a courageous girl and, as she carried no money and other reasons for this molestation were clearly ineligible, it was with more curiosity than fright that she faced the stranger.
“Good day, Sir,” she addressed him coolly enough. “I think perhaps you wish to speak to me,”
The stranger smiled, unpleasantly, she thought. “You are very right, my sweet,” he replied.
She flung up a hand as though to ward off a blow. “Why do you call me so, Sir, is it thus that one gentleman addresses another in England?”
“No, nor in any country, but then I make no claim to be a gentleman—and neither, despite those very fetching breeches, can you.”
“How do you know!” she cried incautiously.
The stranger changed his tactics abruptly. “Forgive my seeming insolence, my dear,” he said, attempting to take her hand. “Alas, my levity is merely a mask circumstance has forced upon me. A man who must watch his greatest friend die and be unable to show his feelings, to appear unmoved by that friend's great suffering, cannot at will show his true self, even to the daughter of his friend.”
“You knew my father!”
“Indeed, and was with him when he died. His last words were a message, which, with his dying breath, he begged me to carry to you.”
“Oh what did he say!” she whispered, her lovely face drained of colour.
“He wanted you to know that he was right in his suspicions. He was betrayed, and by the man in whom he believed he could trust the most, the man indeed to whom he had entrusted his most precious possession—yourself. Your father, Mistress Clareville, was betrayed by the Earl of Debenham.”
“No, no, I will not believe you! It must be a mistake! It cannot be true!” Tears started to her eyes as, once again, her world came tumbling about her ears.
“You do not believe me. How could I expect you to? I see I must explain.” He paused, seeming to gather his thoughts. “It is a long story, my dear. Your father and Debenham served together, as you know. But there was already a connection between them. One of which Debenham was initially unaware.''
“I do not understand you, Sir,” Kit frowned. “How could this be?”
For an answer, he pointed to a large extent of woodland some two miles distant from which rose the towers of what appeared to be an ancient and imposing mansion.
“Do you know the name of that house?” he demanded.
“How could I, Sir when you must be aware that I have not yet spent three days in this country,” replied Kit with some asperity.
He bowed. “I will enlighten you. That is Brabington Court, home of the Brabington family for generations. As you can see, the estates share a common boundary. There was a fair amount of intercourse between the two families, but it would be too much to expect that my Lord Debenham would recognize a man whom he last saw when he was himself but a child.”
“My father was part of that family?”
“Exactly. The Brabingtons were a wild lot, but none wilder than the younger son, at that time a lad of twenty. They did not object to his wildness so much as to his extravagance. There were a series of scandals, culminating in the young man being cut off without a penny and betaking himself to Europe, where he assumed the name of Clareville.”
“My father!”
He smiled, “Just so, my dear,” he assured her.
She was silent, considering the revelation he had made. What it meant to this homeless waif to hear that she was, in fact, a member of an old and distinguished family, this man could not begin to know. She raised shining eyes to his face. “Oh, Sir, how can I thank you for telling me this, it means so much. So often I have longed to know the truth about myself!”
He took her hand in a fatherly manner and pressed it gently. “There is more, child, will you hear it?”
She bowed her head, the light dying from her eyes as she remembered his accusation against Debenham.
“I have no doubt that Debenham is as fervent a rebel as your father ever was; therefore, it was not for political reasons that he betrayed your father. No, the reason was greed, greed so overwhelming that the honour of a lifetime was not sufficient to stand against it. Debenham discovered the truth. Clareville was no fool. He knew there might come a time when he wished to return to England and prove his identity. When he left, he took with him the frontispiece of the family Bible. On this page, as is customary, there were the names of many generations of Brabingtons, and when you were born he added your own, Katherine Brabington. Debenham has that frontispiece, has known all along that you were hiding your true sex.”
“But why,” she cried in agony, “I do not understand.”
“What an innocent you are. You are the last Brabington save for a distant cousin, who has inherited the title and the crumbling Court. The Brabington fortune was based on their West Indian properties and was not entailed; you are, in fact, an heiress of extraordinary wealth. Debenham’s plan was simple. He persuaded your father to leave you in his care. He made sure of that before he betrayed him. Now you are in his power. I daresay he expects to charm you into marriage. If not, well, it would not be the first time a maiden has been forced to accept marriage as the only alternative to ruin!”
Kitty thought this over. “If that were his Lordship's intention, it seems strange that he should have become betrothed to another woman.”
The stranger looked rather foolish for a moment. He recovered quickly, however. “My dear, that poor lady serves merely to lend the man respectability. Do not imagine that he that is capable of planning such an infamous course would hesitate to jilt an unfortunate gentlewoman.”
Kitty was bewildered by his arguments, but half-convinced by his frank and open manner, far different from the cool and mocking Earl. Her heart cried out against believing ill of her guardian, but her understanding could not but admit it to be a plausible tale. She decided that she must have proof one way or the other. She told him so.
“I expected nothing less. However, the only proof we need is the assurance that Debenham knows exactly who you are, for he can have no honest reason for keeping the truth from you. Do you agree?”
“I suppose so,” she said, doubtfully.
“Well then, go to him, search the house, enter into his room somehow. You will find the paper I spoke of. Bring it to me, and I shall protect you, never fear.”
Kitty heaved a deep sigh. “I suppose it is the only way,” she agreed sadly. She could never be comfortable again in Debenham House without learning the truth one way or the other. She supposed that the Earl would be spending most of his time at the home of h
is betrothed; therefore, she determined to ride to London that same night and, using the many skills she had acquired in the course of her adventuring, to enter the Earl's town house undetected.
He applauded her decision. “You are a courageous woman, Mistress Brabington, and truly your father's daughter.” He kissed her hand, pressing his lips against her palm in a manner that sent a shiver of repulsion through her.
She rode back to Debenham House in a very thoughtful mood. Long as she had been absent, Kitty had not been missed. In all that huge household, there was no one whose business it was to take care of their master's ward, and she could not help feeling that it would matter to no one if she accepted the stranger’s offer and placed herself under his protection.
She spent the rest of the day in her chamber, for there was much to consider. She dwelt happily on the thought that she was after all a well-born lady with a place in society if she chose to accept it, yet when she considered the accusations made against the man who had done so much for her, she was miserable and felt that she would willingly exchange all her newfound wealth if he could only be proved to be innocent. Remembering that warm kiss the stranger had pressed into her hand, she could not help speculating upon how it would be to feel Debenham’s warm lips against her palm. Did the Lady Amelia receive such tokens of my Lord's devotion? She was shocked to find that the thought was inexpressibly painful, and for the first time, she questioned her own feelings about Debenham. She reached no conclusion other than that she intended to renounce her breeches as soon as possible as half-remembered visions of gowns trimmed with lace and ribbons rose before her.
Dangerous Escapade Page 4