Foxing the Geese

by Janet Woods

  They went downstairs together. It was a pretty kitchen with curtains of patterned cream lace, geraniums flaming in pots on one windowsill and herbs on the other. The china didn’t match, but it didn’t bother them. They had a best dinner service with gold rims and pink roses decorating it for guests.

  ‘To use when royalty visits,’ she remembered her grandmother saying.

  The kitchen was the hub of the house. In the winter it was warm and cosy, in the summer it was bathed in sunshine for most of the afternoon.

  The cat joined them and lapped up some milk, his ears flattening against his head with pleasure, and then he coiled into his basket. He liked company. She couldn’t remember never having a cat in the house.

  There was a sudden recollection of her grandmother sitting at the opposite end of the table. She was carefully peeling an apple, using the sharp point to create a corkscrew peel as thin as she could manage. Vivienne couldn’t see her grandmother’s face; it was fading from her memory as she grew older, but she knew she was smiling. The peel grew too heavy for its width, tore apart and dropped to the table, where it tried to coil back into its original shape.

  Her grandmother looked up at her and laughed. The sound was sharp and clear, like the ring of the little crystal vase on Vivienne’s dressing table if she flicked her nail against it. She gazed at Maria, wondering if she’d heard it too, but the maid was bustling about getting the cups and saucers out.

  Vivienne smiled. Lord LéSayres was the closest thing to royalty they’d ever entertained. Her mother would have liked him. There was nothing superior about him. He sat comfortably in the shabby armchairs of their drawing room as though he’d grown up in them, and he didn’t seem to notice that they’d served his meals on chipped china, because they’d forgotten to get the good service out.

  Maria made the tea and cut them a slice of cake.

  They heard the gate creak open and a knock at the door.

  They gazed at each other with nervous grins, and then they rose together and approached the door.

  ‘Who is it?’ Maria said, while Vivienne moved into the drawing room and gazed out of the window. She recognized the man.

  ‘Letter carrier with mail for Reverend Fox.’

  Vivienne nodded to Maria.

  Seventeen

  When he returned to London Alex was surprised to find John Howard waiting for him in his rooms. He admitted that his earlier opinion of the man may have been flawed, and since people who knew him painted Howard in a generally favourable light, on that recommendation he was pleased to see him. They shook hands.

  Howard came straight to the point. ‘I’m on my way to Maidstone and I thought I’d stop in and see how you’re managing.’

  Alex raised an eyebrow. ‘How I’m managing … what an extraordinary thing to do.’

  An embarrassed expression crossed the man’s face. ‘Yes … I suppose it is. I beg your pardon, My Lord. I put that very badly, and I apologize for that. I wasn’t prying … just interested, since your brother, Dominic, mentioned that you hadn’t often been in London.’

  Alex allowed it to pass. ‘London is much like any other city, except it’s bigger and more crowded. Thanks to you and a small win at cards, I’m managing quite well. You must keep account in case I’m in the position to repay you someday, though by now you might think the LéSayres family a lost cause.’

  ‘More a waste of paper,’ the man said drily. ‘I understand from Mrs Crawford that there’s talk about my niece and I gather you’ve just returned from Maidstone. Perhaps you’d oblige me by giving me a first-hand account of what’s going on, My Lord.’

  Alex would rather have rested and taken some refreshment first. ‘Have you spoken to her aunt, Mrs Goodman?’

  John made an impatient sound in his throat. ‘Not yet, as I recall the woman is an irritation who is prone to hysterics. So is her daughter, I have heard. I’d rather hear your version of the affair without the hard-done-by accusations, breathless embellishments and tit-for-tat of the women. If Vivienne Fox is about to marry some mountebank who passes himself off as a wealthy attorney, then he will need to be investigated.’

  That was something that sounded like a fair observation to Alex. ‘Vivienne has no intention of marrying Simon Mortimer, believe me. How did you hear of it?’

  ‘I dropped in on my club before I came here. The gossip was rife. What on earth was Vivienne’s father thinking of, allowing her to chaperone her scatterbrained cousin? And why did she run off with a lawyer … what on earth was her aunt about by allowing it?’

  ‘Allow me to put you straight about that. Miss Fox received a letter informing her that her father was at death’s door. What else could she do but rush to his side? Mortimer hid in the darkness waiting for her, and laid about her when she refused his advances.’

  ‘Mrs Goodman is a fool if she allows the girl free rein to run about the countryside.’

  ‘Her aunt is inept, but it wasn’t her fault because on this occasion she wasn’t informed of the situation until after Miss Fox had left. I should also remind you that Miss Fox is not a girl, but an adult woman. Chaperonage of her cousin is a task Vivienne has grown used to doing by all accounts. The young woman is also a romantic and has vowed not to wed until she finds true love, or so her father tells me. As for the reverend, he was upset by his daughter’s injuries but not unduly disturbed, since she played them down to assuage his worry over the affair. According to her maid, she cries at the least provocation and is scared of her own shadow, and has worse bruises concealed under her garments.’

  ‘What is the Reverend Fox doing about it?’

  ‘There’s nothing he can do except keep her at home and allow it to blow over. Vivienne has sworn she’ll confront the perpetrator of this crime against her. I intend to confront him first.’

  John examined his fingernails, then said hesitantly, ‘How far did the assault on my niece go?’

  ‘I didn’t ask her, but judging by her state of mind, not as far as you fear. She was embarrassed, but only because she’d fallen into the trap that was set for her and frightened by the violence. Her reaction stemmed from anger rather than shame, though I think she understands that the outcome could have been worse had she not received assistance from Lord Lamington.’

  ‘That nincompoop!’

  Alex gave a faint smile at the scorn in his voice. ‘Without him she would have come out of this with more serious injuries. She managed to damage her assailant apparently, and with the help of Lamington, she and her companion made her escape.’

  ‘Hmmm … the best way to avoid a scandal is to marry Miss Fox off as soon as is possible. What of the man who attacked her? I heard he was a wealthy lawyer.’

  ‘Simon Mortimer has been losing money hand over fist to the card sharps from what I hear.’ Alex laughed. ‘The lady in question is a tigress when she’s angered. She will tear his eyes from his skull if she sees him again … and if she doesn’t, I will. I sent him a message suggesting he leave town before I returned. However, he may not have, since he’s running a book on the amount of Vivienne’s legacy, and he doesn’t scare easily. He has it in his head that she has inherited considerably more than she’s let on.’

  John scrutinized him intently for a moment. ‘And what do you make of that, My Lord?’

  Alex laughed. ‘To be honest, I don’t know what to make of it. I’ve never known Vivienne to be any less than straightforward and truthful. A young woman who appreciates a humble posy of violets must be as poor as she says she is. Surely a woman with an independent fortune would let it be known, for it would give her an advantage when it came to marriage. Vivienne wouldn’t know what to do with a fortune, and neither would her father.’

  John Howard’s eyes gleamed. ‘What about Mortimer’s companion? He’s a baron, is he not?’

  ‘Lamington?’ Alex burned at the cold-blooded way John was going about arranging Vivienne’s future. ‘The baron is promised to her cousin, Adelaide. Besides, I have a better plan.’
>
  ‘Which is?’

  ‘To put it about that I intend to marry Vivienne Fox myself. From what I hear, some people already think we’re involved.’

  ‘Are you involved?’

  Alex conveniently forgot his parting words to her. ‘We have become good friends, which is why I’m interfering in her life. It’s for her own good, though she doesn’t see it that way at the moment.’

  Howard’s eyes probed the depths of his, and then he chuckled. ‘That might work, but didn’t you state that she intends to wed only for love.’

  Alex shrugged, then he grinned. ‘I’ve discovered that love is a state of mind, and I’m working on it. We are well matched and I think I can convince her to fall in love with me. Vivienne might not have much to her name, but then neither do I so we’ll be on an equal footing.’

  ‘You might do better to allow the girl to imagine you’re in love with her.’

  ‘That goes without saying. I’ve been thinking I might consider selling you two acres of land to give us a start. Not King’s Acres, of course, but the strip on the east side. That will provide me with enough money to plant a corn crop, and more besides.’

  ‘It’s poor soil, nothing grows there and the beach is inaccessible. Besides, there’s a boggy patch in the middle.’

  ‘You’ve inspected it without considering my permission?’

  ‘I didn’t need your permission since your father was with me. He had the same idea as you. He was going to give up his wild ways and work the land. It was a month before he died, and just before his unexpected marriage.’

  ‘My father’s marriage is not a topic for conversation. I’m surprised he didn’t tell me about the meeting though, since he wanted to pass over the state intact.’

  ‘He was considering possibilities, as we are now doing, My Lord. I have reached the same one as I did then.’

  ‘Were you to build there you would need water, and since the bog is fed by fresh water from somewhere it could be dug out. The estate plans suggest the bog was once a gravel pit. It may have been dammed upstream. A house could be built halfway up the slope and would allow a view of the sea.’

  ‘I will reconsider that option, but I shouldn’t be too confident about the outcome since the sea has undermined the cliff and it’s unstable, having collapsed on a couple of occasions. By the way, I have offered employment to your brother, Dominic.’

  The statement surprised Alex. ‘Did he accept?’

  ‘He intends to discuss the matter with you first.’

  ‘It’s not up to me. I thought Dominic was contented in his present position.’

  ‘He’s too ambitious to be contented for long. I’ve offered him a more responsible position and his salary will be commensurate with that. Whatever your feelings towards me, and I admit I’m not a man to suffer fools gladly, if you have any influence over Dominic you should advise him to secure his future by taking me up on this offer.’

  While Alex was wondering what was in it for John Howard, a knock came at the door.

  ‘Come in,’ they both said together, and exchanged a chuckle.

  Mrs Crawford entered. She carried a platter bearing slices of pie, a crispy loaf of bread, and some plums and a couple of apples.

  Ned followed with two bowls of steaming chicken broth on a tray. He broke into a wide grin when John said, ‘You’ve grown two feet since last I saw you. You’ll be tall in a year or so.’

  Alex’s stomach rattled and Mrs Crawford laughed. ‘I thought you’d be hungry after your journey, My Lord.’

  ‘Thank you, Mrs Crawford, I’m quite ravenous, and it was thoughtful of you.’

  She looked pleased by the compliment. ‘How did you find your young lady, My Lord?’

  As usual word had preceded him. ‘Miss Fox will recover, but she’s rattled, and as angry as a nest of hornets.’

  ‘The whole town is waiting to see what happens. The season is almost exhausted, and this affair has livened things up. They can talk of nothing else. They are saying she will have no choice but to wed him, if he asks her.’

  Alex’s appetite fled at the thought. ‘She will not wed him, this I promise.’

  ‘There, I’ve upset you, My Lord. I thought you might like to know what has been going on in your absence.’ In a more motherly fashion she said, ‘Eat your food before it gets cold … you too, John. You can’t conduct business on an empty stomach.’

  She left Alex a pile of invitations that had arrived during his absence, which he placed to one side for later perusal. London was fast losing its glitter and he was longing to go home.

  But he wouldn’t go unless Vivienne Fox went with him, and she would – even if he had to tie her hand and foot and throw her over his shoulder. That would set the tongues of the gossips wagging.

  With that thought affording him a huge amount of satisfaction, Alex picked up his spoon and scooped some chicken broth into his mouth. His appetite returned with a vengeance. Mrs Crawford had been right about conducting business on an empty stomach. As for Vivienne, it had been bravado on his part, since he wouldn’t harm a hair on her head.

  There was a reluctance in him to get rid of the land – any land, not just the King’s Mile. He lifted his gaze to his unexpected but not entirely unwelcome guest. Howard had made no mention of a visit to London, so what was he doing here?

  ‘The problem with carving up an estate is that you can never retrieve the slices you’ve made in it.’

  ‘Ah … but I see no real problem with that now, and I doubt if you will either after you hear me out.’

  ‘We’ll talk over dinner tonight, John, but I’m not such a bad businessman that I’ll commit to anything without Dominic’s advice. And I do need to visit Mrs Goodman and her daughter before the day is out.’ He patted his waistcoat pocket to reassure himself that the purse for her aunt was still there.

  ‘Then I will pay her a courtesy visit with you, if you don’t mind.’

  ‘If you do it will probably be the only courtesy you’ll hear there today.’

  A wry thought found its way into his mind. Once he’d been adamant that the estate would never be carved up or sold off. Now – tempted by the wiggle of a pert backside and urged on by his own needs – he was prepared to sell his soul for just one glance from Vivienne’s pretty green eyes, contrary creature that she was. He was well and truly hooked and had no doubt that Vivienne would make a perfect mistress for King’s Acres. All he had to do was convince her.

  John Howard had been right about the boggy patch. It had been undermined for its gravel in the past, and what was left was washed down by rainwater to cover the small strip of beach at the bottom on the cliff. Fissures appeared now and again when the chalky soil dried out in the summer. It would collapse into the sea eventually.

  Idly, he wondered, how much would the man be willing to pay for the strip of land called King’s Mile?

  Eighteen

  It was mid-afternoon by the time Alex and John Howard arrived at the Goodmans’ house in Portman Square.

  When Matthew presented their cards, Mrs Goodman gave a screech.

  ‘Goodness, it’s Mr John Howard and Lord LéSayres. I hope they’ve brought that ungrateful creature with them so she can be confronted with her lies. Not that I’ll offer any clemency. I will not allow her to set one foot over my doorstep again.’

  The door was slightly open and there was a whispered conversation. Alex heard Freddie Lamington’s voice, and he sounded panicky.

  ‘Ask them to wait in the morning room until I’m ready to see them,’ Mrs Goodman said dismissively, obviously on her high horse and just as obviously forgetful as to whom the message was meant for. She caught herself quickly. ‘With my apologies for the delay, of course.’

  Matthew delivered the message. ‘Would you like some refreshment … a brandy perhaps?’

  Quietly, Alex said, ‘Thank you, Matthew, but no, we’ll wait here, though you might want to disappear. If you stay, perhaps you would be kind enough to guard the front do
or to prevent anyone going out, though if a gentleman called Simon Mortimer should arrive, then by all means allow him entrance, since he needs teaching a lesson.’

  Matthew’s lip curled. ‘I’ll stay, sir.’

  Alex turned to John. ‘Mrs Goodman should be pleased that your niece is not present, since she was of a mind to take a horsewhip to someone when I left her this morning.’

  ‘My niece is inclined to violence? I’m surprised, when my observations have shown her to be such a calm and reasonable young woman. But then, perhaps she’s just realized the gravity of the situation she’s been placed in.’

  ‘Perhaps I exaggerated a little. I would describe her as quick-minded and spirited, but she has been sorely tried. Vivienne is scared and is doing her best to overcome it. Even so, she feels vulnerable, and with good cause. The rest is bravado.’

  Alex heard Freddie Lamington saying a hurried farewell. ‘You must excuse me, ladies, but I have just remembered an urgent appointment.’

  ‘But Freddie,’ Adelaide wailed, ‘you were going to take me to the summer solstice fair in the park. We are to meet Simon, his sister and Viscount Statham there, remember.’

  ‘Tomorrow perhaps.’ The drawing room door opened and Freddie strode out.

  Alex planted a hand in the middle of Freddie’s chest and pushed him back into the drawing room, where he tripped backwards over the rug and fell in a heap. He scrambled to his feet, brushing fluff from his trousers and then moved swiftly behind the couch. ‘Do be careful what you’re about, My Lord, you are ruining my clothing,’ he squeaked.

  ‘I don’t give a tinker’s cuss about your clothing.’

  Mrs Goodman and her daughter clung to each other, eyes wide, and displaying unease at the drama unfolding in their own drawing room. They were twittering with nerves, like a pair of sparrows.

  Alex smiled reassuringly at them. ‘Good afternoon, ladies, I do hope you are enjoying your day.’ Though they wouldn’t be enjoying it for much longer. ‘May I introduce Mr John Howard. He is here on a courtesy call, but whether or not he will find any courtesy is debatable.’