Foxing the Geese

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Foxing the Geese Page 25

by Janet Woods


  ‘Then she told me if that was the case I must attend her every morning when I arrive, so she can instruct me on my duties for the day. The mistress said I sit around drinking too much tea, and that it’s expensive. She’s going to put the tea in a locked box, and from now on I can only have the dregs in the pot if I care to water them down. Hrrumph!’

  Vivienne agreed with Jane on that, but she wasn’t going to side with either of the women since she couldn’t do anything about it, and it was no longer her task.

  Alex had said ten days. Two weeks had come and gone. It had been the longest two weeks of her life. She stopped watching for the messenger who brought the letters.

  A week later Jane handed her a letter. Adelaide had written to say she’d married Freddie.

  We have dropped Simon Mortimer from our list of friends. Sophia has married Statham. Now she’s titled we’re unable to drop her, though she was playing the lady to the hilt before they left for Scotland. Oh, how I wish she didn’t outrank me … so annoying. There are some terrible rumours circulating about her now. Some say she was with child but procured a miscarriage.

  It has quite laid the talk about you to rest. The boxing match helped, of course …

  Boxing match … there it was again. What boxing match?

  … Simon was so prideful but when it came down to it, his skills were no match for those of the Scarlet Fury. I do wish I’d been there. There is a rumour that it was our manservant, Matthew, dressed in a red mask and cloak. How could it be when he was at the house at the same time as Mother and me?

  Simon hasn’t been seen for the past week. He owed Freddie such a lot of money. The Viscount refused to pay Simon’s debts and it will only be a matter of time before the debt collectors catch up with him.

  Freddie is such fun. Now the little season is over we are staying in London until after Christmas. Then we are going to Bath in the spring.

  Dearest Vivienne, do join us there. Freddie is so remorseful of his part in the affair and he begs your forgiveness and is determined to find you a splendid husband. Mama has gone home. It’s such a relief not to be obliged to listen to her complaints.

  I do hope the earl is recovering from his recent illness. Freddie called on him a week ago, but his landlady wouldn’t allow him in because Lord LéSayres still had a fever and was infectious.

  Alarm tore at her. Alex was ill!

  The woman said he was suffering from a dose of chicken pox but he should be ready to receive visitors before too long.

  Vivienne shouldn’t have laughed, but she did.

  Vivienne knocked at the door of her father’s study and slipped inside before Jane had a chance to make it down the stairs to stop her. She didn’t want to have to force her way past her new stepmother, but on this occasion she would if she had to.

  Her father looked up from the paper on his desk and smiled. ‘Oh it’s you, Vivienne dear. I haven’t seen you in here for quite a while. My brain has stopped working. How do you spell righteousness?’

  When she spelled it for him he looked at the paper and then stretched. ‘That’s what I thought, but it didn’t look correct. Perhaps I need a new nib, it’s a while since it was changed.’

  She changed the pen nib for him. ‘There.’

  ‘I’m glad you’ve paid me a visit. I always welcome a distraction, especially if it’s you. Was there anything in particular you needed to consult me about?’

  ‘I have heard from Adelaide. Lord LéSayres has been inflicted by a bout of chicken pox. I imagine he’d no longer be infectious.’

  He read her mind. ‘And you feel you must go to him?’

  ‘I would like to talk to him and clear the air between us. Would you mind?’

  He sat back in his chair and gazed at her. ‘Where would you stay, my dear?’

  She handed him Adelaide’s letter. ‘I would take Maria with me, of course. She will probably stay in London if I decide to return home, since she finds the country dull. I thought that after that I might pay a visit to my uncle. In Dorset. The time I spent with him here was too short, and he did invite me.’

  ‘Wherever you travel you will always have a home here to come back to.’

  ‘I know, but should the earl find it in his heart to respond with displeasure at my approach then I will consider buying a home of my own. Having me here will eventually cause conflict and you would be the meat in the pie, dearest Papa.’

  ‘Don’t think I haven’t noticed a little frisson of atmosphere between you and Jane from time to time. It troubles me.’

  ‘It’s nothing that won’t pass. I’m your daughter and Jane is your wife. It’s a difficult position for her to be in, since she needs to be in charge of her own household, and she needs to be reassured that she’s equal in your eyes and your heart.’

  ‘And you’re being forced to defend your position.’

  She laughed. ‘It’s more that I have to learn to stand aside and change.’

  ‘Women have such odd instincts at times, but you have enough sense to know I must now put Jane first and adjust accordingly.’ He sighed. ‘Are you sure you love the earl?’

  She nodded. ‘Truly I do. There can be no other man for me. I should have been truthful with him from the very beginning.’

  ‘Yes … well now … you should have listened to me in the first place. Trying to fox the goose is always a risky course to take, but you’ve always been headstrong … just like your mother. Go then. I’ll find you some coin as well as paper money and I’ll arrange a letter of credit with the Bank of England, since your uncle arranged a generous allowance for you.’

  Why was she always the last person to hear of such things?

  ‘I’ll take you into Maidstone in the morning. You could take the mail coach. It’s rather uncomfortable, but it’s fast and will get you to London in no time at all.’

  The sooner she saw Alex again the better she would like it. She nodded, and was halfway to the door when a thought occurred to her. She turned. ‘Papa, do you know anything about a recent boxing match that took place in London?’

  Picking up his pen he gazed down at his paper, as he always did when he felt guilty. ‘Hmmm. It’s a common event in London, I believe. Why are you interested?’

  ‘I shall find out, you know.’

  ‘I daresay you will,’ and he laughed. ‘I know you shall … I shall miss you a great deal, you know?’

  There was a knock at the door and Jane poked her head around the door. ‘Oh … there you are, Vivienne. You must allow your father to finish his sermon in peace.’

  He leaned back in his chair. ‘I have never been a stickler for timetables, Jane. I’m here to serve the spiritual needs of my parishioners at any time, day or night. I can always find time for my daughter, as I can for my wife. As for the sermon, it can wait. Come in, my dear. Vivienne has just informed me that she’s about to fly the nest.’

  Jane couldn’t quite hide the relief in her eyes, while Vivienne hoped she would fly more successfully this time.

  Twenty-Four

  Alex finally felt human again. At least he was no longer infectious and the torment of itching blemishes that had driven him crazy had gone, leaving behind little pink patches of healed skin. He hadn’t been allowed to scratch them lest they leave scars.

  Between them, Matthew and Mrs Crawford had nursed him through the worst of it, and put up with his bad temper.

  The doctor had told him he’d been lucky. ‘It was a fairly mild infection but your body was strong enough to fight it. Had it got into your lungs it would have been a different outcome altogether.’

  Mrs Crawford had kept him up with the gossip. Sophia had wed Viscount Statham, it seemed. Alex didn’t know which one of the pair to feel pity for. Adelaide had forgiven Freddie and they were now man and wife. That, at least, seemed a suitable match since they were alike in temperament as well as intelligence.

  The vapid Cresswell sisters, still maids, had returned home with their brother, no doubt still giggling together
when they weren’t supposed to, which had always earned them a faint indulgent smile from their more serious brother. They were delightful and endearing girls, more like children than adults. The little season had been a training session, for Lord Cresswell intended to take them to Bath in October, where the main season lasted until July.

  Then there was Vivienne … his Vivienne, his heart’s ease.

  As he’d hoped it would, the talk about her misadventure had been overtaken by tittle-tattle about Simon Mortimer’s debt – a debt he couldn’t pay. Mortimer had gone to ground. Rumour had it that he’d left London and gone to Scotland with Viscount Statham and his sister. Another rumour suggested he’d joined a religious order. Then there was the one that stated he was dead, and had been secretly buried in Potter’s field … it all depended on who was doing the talking.

  When each rumour faded, someone started another – sometimes it was Matthew. Alex didn’t care where Simon was, unless he took it upon himself to harm or annoy Vivienne again. He would regard that as a personal affront.

  Mrs Crawford knocked at the door and smiled at him. ‘Lord Lamington has called, and he has a young lady with him.’

  He supposed it was the tiresome Adelaide. Mrs Crawford had told him they were wed. At least her equally tiresome mother had left town. Adelaide might be able to tell him how Vivienne had fared while he’d been ill.

  He was unprepared for his lady’s appearance at the very moment he was thinking of her. It was as if a magician had produced her from his box of tricks. He shot to his feet so quickly that he forgot the low beam until the last minute. The house had not been built with tall men in mind. Ducking just in time, he stammered, ‘Miss Fox … Vivienne … I was not expecting you. Are you accompanied?’

  She gave a soft trill of laughter. ‘Since when did you observe convention, Alex? You should have let me know of your illness.’

  ‘I didn’t want you to shed tears over me.’

  ‘Hah … as if I would.’

  ‘Had you seen me, covered in decorative pink dots and roaring like a bull from the frustration that comes from not being able to scratch an itch, you would have felt so sorry for me that you would have drowned us both in your tears. As a patient I’m quite pathetic. Ask my landlady, Mrs Crawford.’ His gazed travelled over her face. ‘You are quite healed now, my angel, and you look exquisite.’

  A little curl had escaped from her bonnet, and he wound it around his finger. It sprang against her face when he slid his finger through it.

  Then he remembered he was not fully dressed. He shrugged into his jacket too hastily and got into a tangle with the sleeve.

  She laughed, and was on him in a moment, helping him into it. The smell of honeysuckle drifted around him as she cooed, ‘Your landlady said you must rest.’

  ‘I’m better now, and had intended to visit you in a day or two, when I got my strength back. Where are you staying? Your uncle, John Howard, has returned to Dorset, I understand.’

  Frederick appeared in the doorway behind her, carrying a bunch of flowers. ‘Miss Fox is my house guest, my Lord.’

  ‘Yours … what have you done, Vivienne? The man is a friend of your enemy.’

  ‘Nothing. Freddie has married my cousin and is a reformed character now, so it’s all quite respectable. He has something he wishes to say to you.’ She nudged him with her elbow.

  Freddie stumbled through an apology for his part in the assault on Vivienne. After a while his stammer became worse. What the devil was the matter with the man?

  ‘You must accept Freddie’s apology, Alex. After all, it was me who was attacked in the first place … and I’ve forgiven him. Poor Freddie, you are making him nervous with that frown.’

  ‘I’m frowning? I hadn’t realized.’

  ‘Ferociously … like a mad dog about to bite.’

  Yes, he supposed he was. He began to smile. ‘Run away then, Freddie. Go and put your flowers in water.’

  ‘They are for you, My Lord.’

  He raised an eyebrow. ‘A jug of ale would have served my ills better.’

  Vivienne interjected. ‘The flowers are from me, Alex. Accept them with good grace else I’ll leave you to your own devices … then you’ll be sorry.’

  That sounded promising and he pulled a smile to his face. ‘Ah … flowers. How delightful. They’re just what I need to cheer me up.’

  Vivienne turned towards Freddie. ‘I wish to have a private word with the earl. Find the kitchen and put those flowers in water, would you, then wait downstairs for half-an-hour. After that you can fetch Lord LéSayres a jug of ale from the tavern. No … a tankard will do. Too much ale can excite the blood.’

  His was excited just looking at her.

  ‘But Miss Fox, I promised my wife—’

  She placed a forefinger over his mouth. ‘Oh do shut up, Freddie. Half the fun of being a chaperone is looking in the opposite direction, as you well know. After all, I allowed you enough time to exchange more than polite smiles with my cousin when you were courting her.’ Freddie backed away when she poked an accusing finger at his chest. ‘And I assure you, I will not mention to Adelaide the time when I caught you flirting with another young lady when you were supposedly secretly engaged to her. Now … what was she called? Lettie … Lottie … Lalage?’

  ‘It was Lillian … but it meant nothing.’

  ‘There, I knew I’d remember it. You’re not as foolish as you appear, and you’re quite charming when you’re just being yourself, Freddie. I wish you would remember that.’ She closed the door in his face.

  Vivienne was utterly charming in a green taffeta pelisse with embroidered panels, worn over a cream gown hemmed in lace. A straw half-bonnet covered in silk flowers adorned her head.

  Laughing, he took her hands in his and kissed the palms. ‘You’re a sight for sore eyes. I’ve missed you.’

  ‘Never mind that, Alex LéSayres. Tell me about the boxing match.’

  ‘Oh that … John Howard arranged it with a promoter. It was a grudge match between myself and Simon Mortimer.’

  ‘You fought that man over me?’

  ‘No … I didn’t fight him, but I would have. Apparently, it’s not the done thing for a peer to fight a commoner. Matthew put himself forward on my behalf, but also to defend your maid, Maria. He won. Mortimer fled town, leaving huge debts behind him. I expect you know that. He hasn’t been seen in public since. The match did what it was designed for. It served to restore your good name and shift the scandal sideways. Simon Mortimer has been promoted from a rogue into a scoundrel. It was a gentleman’s resolution to a problem.’

  ‘With me being the problem.’ She touched his face. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘You were recovering from the attack, and I …’ There was bound to be safety in numbers … ‘That is, John Howard, your father, Matthew and myself, decided that knowing about it would cause you unnecessary worry. Your father thought you might go haring up to London and cause a fuss, which would have defeated the object of the match. The rest of us agreed.’

  ‘Ah … it was for my own good then.’

  ‘Certainly. It didn’t take long before it got around that I’d sponsored Matthew on your behalf, though nobody knew who it was under the disguise. He was billed as the Scarlet Fury and wore a satin cloak and mask.’

  A little snort and a whispered, ‘Men!’ indicated what she thought of such male ingenuity.

  ‘People came to the obvious conclusion. Because you and I were betrothed it wouldn’t be good policy to snub you.’

  ‘Betrothed?… Obvious conclusion? I can’t remember a formal proposal of marriage … not from you, though there are at least three … perhaps five proposals from other men.’

  He grinned, doubting she would have received any, not since word had leaked out that she was spoken for. ‘I thought we had an understanding. Didn’t you allow me to kiss you on several occasions? And aren’t you wearing my ring with the family crest?’

  She blushed. ‘A gentleman wou
ldn’t remind a lady of her weakness in certain matters.’

  She hadn’t yet learned what weakness was, or what those certain matters were. ‘Is that so? I sold King’s Mile to your uncle so I could afford to take you for a wife. I do hope that was not in vain.’

  He didn’t mention that John Howard intended to gift the land to Vivienne on her marriage. So, if she accepted him the land would be returned to the estate.

  ‘You sold King’s Mile? How could you? You said you’d never sell it and I so admired your stubbornness over the issue.’

  ‘That was then. But your uncle doubled his initial offer, and I won some money betting on the outcome of the boxing match … enough to do the repairs and buy the seed for a corn crop and a plough horse. Luckily my wager was placed with a bookkeeper other than Mortimer. I’m not exactly flushed with money, but if I’m careful and if the weather remains fair, the estate should earn enough to get us through next year’s harvest with a profit. If that happens we will not need your little legacy and you can keep it for your own use.’

  ‘You sold the King’s Mile for me?’ Her voice had softened and he knew he had her. ‘Will I be worth more to you than a plough horse?’

  He laughed. ‘Only if you learn to pull a plough faster.’ He pulled her against him and inched his hands down her back to cup each of her buttocks, wondering if she’d notice the liberty he was taking, or the effect it was having on him. The body gliding under his fingertips was firm and shapely, as well as giving.

  How could she not notice how aroused he’d become? How could he stop the progress of what he’d started … or had it been Vivienne who’d started it?

  His lady-love chose not to mention the position she found herself in, but she placed the flats of her hands against his chest – in case she felt the need to push him away, no doubt. He removed them and kissed her palms.

  ‘I believe I owe you a kiss, My Lord.’

  She was one big tease, but it was instinct rather than artifice. ‘I believe you do.’

  Their mouths met in a gloriously hungry caress. Afterwards he couldn’t believe his luck when she smiled up at him through eyes like polished jade, and purred, ‘Do you intend to seduce me, Alex LéSayres?’

 

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