by Anya Wylde
Was Lady Babbage blackmailing the mother and daughter, or was Mrs Barker simply willing to be the duke’s mistress to restore their financial situation?
The entire incident left a bad taste in his mouth. How could that woman be so heartless and demand payment from someone so young? He had never liked Prudence, from what little he had seen or heard of her, but all he felt at the moment was pity for the girl and disgust at Lady Babbage’s behaviour. He debated telling Emma.
Emma would be just as disgusted, but would she be able to hide her feelings from the vicious woman? It would be harder for her to pretend. Blackmailing a gardener for some odd job was different from demanding payment from a helpless young girl.
Whatever indiscretion Prudence had committed, it did not seem fair that Lady Babbage held it over her head like a sword.
He extinguished his pipe in distaste. He could not tell Emma, at least not yet. She would never be able to treat the Lady courteously, or keep up the pretence of being unaware of what was going on in the house.
He would have to alert William and ask him to keep an eye on things.
***
“Do I need to beg your forgiveness once again, Lady Arden?”
Catherine missed her lips and instead wetted her chin with the tea.
“Here,” Lord Raikes said, producing a snow white handkerchief.
She glanced at him questioningly.
“The tea may dribble down onto your dress. I am partial to that colour on your skin and would not like the cloth stained,” he replied.
Mortified, she grabbed the handkerchief and quickly wiped away the liquid.
“You did not answer my first question. Do I need to apologise? I had not meant to tease you this morning. No, don’t try and convince me that it was nothing … you have not looked at me once since the incident, not during our stroll, or through the entire dinner.”
Catherine glanced around looking for an escape.
“Do I frighten you?”
“No!” she snapped, her eyes flashing angrily as she finally met his gaze.
“That’s better. I will try and never tease you again.”
She nodded distractedly, trying to inch away from him.
He had sat next to her as soon as Lady Babbage had retired for bed. No one else seemed inclined to end the night early, and she had been enjoying the festive feel the newcomer had brought with him.
Everyone wanted to talk and to flirt; somehow with the sun setting people felt the thrill of risk, and prolonging the bed time added to the adventure. They changed and grew bolder as the hours sped by. The politeness that had dictated the conversations all day seemed to slowly ebb and skate the bounds of propriety.
It was the wine, she concluded, that loosened tongues and put odd thoughts in one’s head.
“I never realised how well green compliments blue. I confess, I have never noticed how beautiful this material is, it skims the body taunting ones imagination,” he said, touching the edge of her moss silk skirt.
She leapt up, her own light blue eyes glaring into darker ones.
“I think I would like more tea, My Lord.” She turned away, only to whirl back around and say, “I cannot sit here and listen to you speak so. How can you? When you know you are to marry my cousin, who is like a sister to me. I implore you to keep your smooth tongue to yourself. I have not been in London or out in society, hence do not know how to play games of this sort. Think of me as a country bumpkin rather than a sophisticated Londoner, please, and choose your words carefully.”
He rose to his feet, and a brief flash of pain crossed his face.
“I think you are a beautiful bluestocking, and I wish circumstances had been different. Please trust me, do not think of me so harshly. I know everything against me seems black right now, but do not hate me just yet. I implore you to give me time to explain.”
“Even if you were not betrothed to my cousin, I would still find it hard to ignore your arrogance. In every tone and every word you speak, there is a command. I am afraid hate is too harsh a word to use. Indifference is what I truly feel for you and concern for Emma. That girl has lost her head over a handsome face,”she said, walking away.
Lord Raikes grinned. So she thought he was handsome. As for being indifferent, he knew enough about women to know that Lady Arden, in spite of her denials, was in fact very aware of him.
Catherine stared at the snowy white handkerchief in her hand. She had forgotten to return it in her agitation to get away. Now she would have to go back and face him again.
She glanced at the fire burning in the grate and contemplated throwing it in. It would be childish, she finally conceded.
That man was a rogue. He dared to flirt openly with her and say things no gentleman would utter. Her cheeks burned, and furious tears threatened to spill from her eyes. She hated the man and wondered how long she would have to suffer his odious presence. She seemed to embarrass herself every time she met him.
A dark patch at the edge of the handkerchief captured her attention for a moment. She squinted at the embroidery at the corner of the cloth and blinked away the tears to see more clearly.
She frowned. The initials were W.S.R; why did the earl have W.S.R sewn into his handkerchief. Should it not be R.A.H? Her initial suspicion returned.
Was that man truly Richard Hamilton or someone else? He did not match the description Emma had given her. He behaved like an earl and had the lordly habits down pat, yet her uneasiness did not go away.
From the very beginning, something had not seemed right. She wondered if Emma had a lover, and this was her way of introducing him to the duke. She could have intercepted the letter and begged this man to pretend to be the earl. Maybe her aim was to show how much better than the earl this man truly was.
She grimaced in annoyance. Her imagination was taking flight; as if Emma would practice such a deceit. If anything, it would anger the duke if the truth came out, and he would forbid her cousin to have anything to do with the man.
Why, she ruthlessly asked herself, was she trying to convince herself that the earl was an imposter?
She had imagined the earl as a male version of her cousin, fun loving, bold, and charming, with no interest in anything but the outdoors.
She had expected a boy. Instead, she was faced with an intelligent man who was well read, interesting, deep, and an introvert. No wonder she was confused. He was nothing like what her cousin had portrayed him to be. She had not been prepared, and that was it. That was the only reason for her antagonism. Their meeting had started off on a wrong footing, and what with one thing and another, the situation had become worse.
She did not think she could be friends with him any longer, though for Emma’s sake, she would be polite and keep her distance.
His flirting must have charmed more sophisticated women, while she had only been subjected to a few immature efforts from the village lads. He had taken her by surprise, his words shocking her.
With growing mortification, she realised she looked like an even bigger fool now than she had with tea dribbling down her chin.
Maybe flirting so boldly was all the rage in London. She had been living in a secluded village and been unaware of how society had progressed. He must have simply been saying things that were expected of him, and she had overreacted, taking his meaning to be more than he had intended. Perhaps he had no interest in her, and her outburst would have only highlighted her misplaced pride.
The stupid handkerchief could have had his great aunt’s name embroidered for all she knew. Angrily, she turned and left for bed without wishing anyone present goodnight.
Chapter 16
“I want you to stay away from William.”
Emma stepped out of the earl’s arm in surprise. He had met her in her room again, and she had leaped into his arms happily. Now she searched his face and noticed the tight lines around his mouth.
“Why?”
“Because he is a rake and a blackguard, and you are not safe with him!
You do not know the things he has done. He is ten times worse than me. He has no honest bone in his body, and he will compromise you before you can … why are you laughing?”
“He is your best friend, and as for him compromising me, he barely speaks to me. He is obsessed with my cousin. I have to continuously remind him that I am his fiancée.”
“Pretend fiancée”
“Yes, alright, pretend fiancée, and I think we should be worried about him compromising Catherine under the duke’s very roof. I have never seen my poor cousin blush so much as she does in his company. I thought he was a boring old professor, but he must be saying some truly outrageous things to her to have her so flustered.”
“Oh, dear”
“Richard,” she said giggling, “you sound like my mamma, you had the disapproving tone down perfectly.”
“Well, since I will be related to her soon enough, I feel obligated to protect Catherine from that scoundrel.”
“What brought about this sudden change? I thought you were best friends, and according to you, he is absolutely wonderful. You did not want me to interact with him? Then why in the world did you choose him for this charade? I cannot act my role if I am not allowed to even speak to him. The duke, for one, will find it decidedly odd.”
“That was before …”
“Before what?”
“Never mind. Just hear me out. You must chaperone your cousin, and ignore my rant of staying away from him. He is a wily fox, and we need to keep Catherine’s virtue safe. Otherwise, we will have more to worry about than the duke discovering my identity. I am not so sure I would win in a duel against him. He practices every morning, did you know? I watched him, and his aim is dead on at fifty paces.”
“I think William is a gentleman, and you had a decidedly better opinion of him a few days ago. I am truly interested to know what changed your mind.”
The earl stooped to kiss her to silence her questions. He did not want to admit his jealousy.
She laughingly tried to fend him off to continue her line of thought, but he held her hands in an iron grip allowing no room for escape. She finally gave in, and her laughter faded as desire mounted.
A knock at the door had them both leap apart in shock.
“Who is it?” Emma called.
“Raikes”
“That good for nothing …”the earl’s tirade was halted by Emma quickly opening the door.
“I called him”, she replied apologetically, “I thought we could discuss things more easily here.’’
“You, my dear, will never entertain any man other than me in your bedroom. Is that clear?” he growled angrily.
Seeing the furious look on his face she nodded meekly.
He turned to face Lord Raikes,
“You, get out and stay out. I will meet you in your room. We can talk there, and you can update Emma tomorrow during daylight, with at least three chaperones present. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Richard,” he said in a brilliant imitation of a young meek lady. He threw in a curtsey at the end.
Emma dissolved into giggles, and the earl slammed the door shut on his friend.
***
“At least you will have a glass of decent malt for me every night. I have never appreciated such small luxuries before,” the earl muttered.
“You can sleep on the couch,” Lord Raikes offered.
“That Pickering would notice. I think the duke has asked him to keep an eye on me, and he does a good imitation of a faithful hound. I have half a mind to lure him away with double the pay.”
“Just so you can order him around as he has been ordering you about the past few days?”
“Exactly,” the earl replied, taking a swig from the glass.
“You do know I would never dare think of Emma in any other way than your bride … don’t you?” he asked seriously.
“I know, I am sorry I reacted so strongly earlier. It is just that once you find someone you … you care about, jealousy is not far behind. I want to possess her, and I know how barbarian that sounds, believe me,” the earl said ruefully. “But one day you will understand. It is part of the reason for the charade. I want to marry her and do the honourable thing. Not just because I desire her physically but because I want to have her by my side, sharing my life, my home, and my family. I want the people I value in my life to know her and love her as she deserves.”
“I never thought I would see the day when my friend would admit to being in love.”
“I never said I loved her!”
“You did not have to,” Lord Raikes replied smiling.
“Enough about me, tell me how do you find being in love?”
“In love! You must be joking, I just met her.”
“Yes, Prudence is a lovely girl, you can’t do better than her.”
“Pru …” he spluttered, then seeing the earl laughing, scowled, “I would not touch her with a barge pole.”
The earl sobered, feeling sorry for the unfortunate girl once more. He related the events of the afternoon and told him of Lady Babbage’s attempts to blackmail.
Lord Raikes frowned and said, “Lady Babbage seems to be genuinely fond of Catherine, yet I am not surprised to hear of her unpleasant activities. Behind that calm demeanour, she hides a raging tempest, bubbling with emotions. She hates and loves with a passion, taking the slightest offence to heart but never expressing it publicly. Her status as the duke’s sister has not stopped the family from marginalising her. The treatment meted out to her is not fair, though I am not condoning her actions in any way.”
“William, that woman frightens me, and I do not mind admitting it. I chanced a glimpse of Prudence’s face as she watched Lady Babbage leave, and the hatred I saw was disturbing. She has pushed the girl to the edge, and I do not know how many others. I have a suspicion she may be trying her tricks with the duke as well. This whole house seems to be a disaster waiting to happen. Things may get ugly, and I trust you to keep Em safe.”
“I am honoured, and I will do my best, Richard. Though, I do hope you are wrong about things getting worse.”
“I do not think I am wrong. My next step is to throw myself in Lady Babbage’s path and see what she wants from an old gardener. I wonder what job she has for me. It cannot be straightforward, and her demands may throw more clues our way.”
Lord Raikes smiled. His friend looked more delighted with a chance to solve a mystery than worried about any impending danger. Gardening was an excellent occupation for the earl, no matter his complaints.
***
The day dawned grey, wet, and thundery. The storm had the entire household imprisoned inside.
Emma was miserable, since she would miss her daily stroll.
The women along with Mr Barker sat in the breakfast room, reluctant to leave its warmth.
“I am sure my nose will turn blue if I step out of this room. The hallways are so drafty, and with the slightest dip in temperature the walls turn to ice,” the duchess commented.
“I prefer my own modest home. These great mansions are splendid to look at but impractical to live in. You should acquire a smaller place. I am sure the duke will be pleased with doing away with the expense of keeping this grand home in order,” Mrs Barker replied.
“I, for one, love this house, with all its shivers and whistles. The duke needs to maintain this grandness, as you call it, because his status requires him to do so. He has responsibilities to his tenants, and he cannot abandon hundreds of people that depend on him for their livelihood. Pass me the teapot, Cat,” Emma said irritably.
“Here you go. Does anyone know where the earl and father are? I have not seen them all morning.”
“They had decided to go fishing today, but I am sure this horrible rain has them ensconced in the study. Personally, I find fishing a dreadful bore. You wake up at dawn and trudge your way up to a pond or lake and sit in utter silence waiting for a catch. The entire process leaves you cold, sleepy, and depressed. Now, hunting is more exciting,” Mr Ba
rker replied.
“Ah, some fresh, hot coffee, “the duchess interrupted, eyeing a maid entering the room with a cleverly balanced tray of coffee, tea, and lemon cake.
“I don’t think I want to move. I have eaten so much, yet another cup sounds heavenly. This room is rather warm, but I think it is the knowledge of the torrent outside that makes us feel as if we should curl up with a posset in the corner,” Emma said gloomily.
They sat in silence, having nothing more to offer.
Catherine wondered how she could enliven everyone’s mood. She stared around the room, racking her brains for some interesting game they could play without anyone having to move an inch.
“EEK!” Prudence shrieked into the calm. Her face had turned deathly white, and she slowly lifted her finger and pointed to a spot near the door.
“EEK!” Mr Barker and Catherine echoed, spotting the source of Prudence’s screech.
“Good lord, it’s … it’s a mouse,” the duchess whispered in horror.
Slowly and carefully, so as not to startle the creature, everyone climbed onto their respective chairs.
Mr Barker went a step further by launching himself onto the table. They stood watching the animal, not daring to breathe.
“It hasn’t moved. It is just sitting there,” Emma whispered, after a few minutes.
“I cannot see,” Mrs Barker complained, “what is it like?”
“Brown and small and … twitchy,” Emma replied.
“I think he is moving,” Catherine, who was closest to the creature, muttered, “Yes, he is … see, he is turning around, and now …” She froze.
“… It is facing us,” finished Emma.
Everyone paused, eyes riveted towards the mouse, waiting for it to make its next move.
After another minute of stillness on both sides, Emma finally said, “How do you know it is a he?”
“It looks like a he,” Catherine replied.
“He is sort of cute,” Prudence said apologetically, “Look at his wee face, with his little quivering whiskers, staring up at us with those tiny paws outstretched.”
“Now I am sure it is a ‘he’, since we have Prudence already in love with the thing,” Emma breathed in her cousin’s ear.