Cadenza

by Stella Riley

  ‘Max has visited London from time to time – as have Adam and Leo – but never for extended periods.’ Elizabeth offered him a tentative smile. ‘Perhaps their pursuits while there differ from your own, my lord.’

  His amusement deepened. ‘That may be so – though I am not at all sure what leads you to suppose it. Is it my own pursuits you consider dubious … or those of your brothers?’

  Realising she had dug an unwitting pit for herself, Elizabeth flushed.

  ‘I – neither one. That wasn’t what I meant at all.’

  ‘I am delighted to hear it.’ He rose, offering his hand. ‘Dinner … and most fortuitously timed, would you not say?’

  Not surprisingly, Elizabeth did not know what to say and therefore, wisely, said nothing. The look in those knowing eyes did not improve matters. Lord Sherbourne, as she had known from the first, wasn’t safe; unfortunately, something about him was more compelling than she wanted to admit even to herself. So she decided that, since playing with fire clearly needed skills she did not possess … and that allowing herself to form an attraction to any man at all was pointless, the sooner she and his disturbing lordship parted company, the better.

  * * *

  His lordship facilitated this by demanding an early start – which had them leaving the Oak at a little before nine in the morning. Annie wedged herself into a corner, looking sulky; Lord Sherbourne buried his nose in the Iliad; and, trying to ignore both of them, Elizabeth stared out of the window, earnestly praying that the rest of her journey would prove less fraught than the last two days had done.

  Their progress – circuitous to avoid the damaged bridge – was less than brisk but Lord Sherbourne’s chaise finally pulled in to the busy yard of the White Horse shortly after noon. Helping Elizabeth down, Ralph said, ‘If you and your maid go inside and order food, I will find out what carriages may be for hire.’

  Elizabeth nodded and did as he suggested. Half an hour later, he joined her wearing an expression that made her heart sink.

  Coming quickly to her feet, she said, ‘What is it? What’s wrong?’

  ‘This inn possesses only one travelling carriage and it has already been commandeered by a gentleman in similar straits to your own. The George, further along the street, keeps only a couple of gigs suitable for short, local journeys and though I have sent Frayne to another inn on the edge of town, I do not hold out much hope – it being a smaller establishment than either of the others. I am told that the Mail is due through here tomorrow … but that will not do at all.’ Ralph paused, his mouth growing tighter by the second. ‘I am sorry.’

  Despite her increasing consternation, Elizabeth thought she could guess the cause of that grim expression. His honour as a gentleman – which had probably been drilled into him since he was three years old – would force him to take her at least as far as the next main town. And he clearly hated the idea.

  As steadily as she could, she said, ‘Thank you for trying, my lord. You have been extraordinarily kind. But you must not feel that you have any further responsibility to --’

  ‘Spare me the brave protestations, ma’am,’ he cut in coldly. ‘Despite the danger to your reputation of continuing to travel in my company, you must know as well as I that I cannot in all conscience abandon you here.’

  ‘Yes, you can. You can simply return to your carriage, unload my luggage and --’

  ‘If you think that, at this point, obstinacy is remotely helpful, you are singularly naive.’ Then as Frayne appeared in the doorway, ‘Anything?’

  ‘No, my lord. Nothing.’

  ‘Very well. Tell Cox to make ready to depart.’

  Frayne vanished and Elizabeth said flatly, ‘Go, by all means. But I’m not coming.’

  ‘And do what instead?’ he demanded. Then, when she hesitated, ‘Ma’am, since I intend to make Stevenage by dark, I do not have time to debate the matter. I would therefore appreciate it if you would just stop talking.’

  Elizabeth’s jaw dropped. ‘I beg your pardon, my lord, but --’

  And that was as far as she got before his hand closed on her elbow with a grip that brooked no refusal and hinted at temper barely held in check. Marching her smartly out into the yard and ignoring her attempts at protest, he bundled her back into the carriage and then, turning on Annie, said implacably, ‘You, too. In.’

  ‘No!’ she said, trying to stand firm. ‘I’m not letting you abduct Miss Li-Belle like this. I --’

  With one hand, he propelled her head-first into the carriage.

  ‘If I was abducting her, you would not be here,’ he snapped, climbing in behind her and slamming the door. ‘As it is, I am doing only what needs to be done and would prefer to simply get on with it.’ He rapped on the roof of the carriage and it jerked forwards. ‘Mistress Marsden … your outriders, as you will see if you look through the window, are continuing to accompany us. They are now doing so at my expense rather than your own – no, please allow me to finish – in the event of further catastrophe or the need to travel after dark. The point is not negotiable and therefore not open for discussion. In fact, you will have my undying gratitude if you will kindly refrain from discussing anything at all for at least the next half hour.’ And so saying, he dragged the Iliad from his pocket and dived into it.

  * * *

  By the time they reached Stevenage, the mood inside the carriage had improved very little. No one had spoken a word that was not strictly necessary and, of the four of them, Frayne was the only one who did not appear either angry or uncomfortable. Indeed, catching an errant gleam, Elizabeth suspected that the valet was finding the entire situation hugely entertaining.

  She would have been surprised had she known that Lord Sherbourne had spent a substantial part of the journey feeling thoroughly annoyed with himself and trying to determine precisely why he was so eager to wave goodbye to his passengers. True … Mistress Marsden’s skirts took up a great deal of room, forcing him against the side of the carriage and meaning that he couldn’t stretch out his legs without kicking either Frayne or the damned maid. But that really wasn’t sufficient reason for either his loss of control at St Neots or the grumbling resentment he still felt when they pulled into the White Lion in Stevenage.

  Sweeping inside, he ordered rooms, dinner and stabling. Then, leaving Elizabeth to her own devices, he promptly vanished. Scowling at his retreating back, Annie muttered, ‘If I had a few toadstools, I’d know what to do with them.’

  Elizabeth shook her head. ‘No, you wouldn’t. He may be rude and insufferably overbearing but he has done us a favour. And at least you don’t have to dine with him – speaking of which, I’ll need a fresh gown. Let’s see which one is least crushed.’

  Although it boasted no private parlours, the White Lion provided guests with a large, comfortable dining-room. Becomingly gowned in leaf green taffeta and hoping the earl had stopped sulking, Elizabeth walked in to discover that he wasn’t there at all. Instead, a pair of fashionably-dressed matrons perched on the window-seat, from which they had a clear view of the comings and goings in the yard below.

  ‘There is definitely a crest on that carriage,’ said one of them. ‘Whose, do you think?’

  ‘Too much mud to tell,’ yawned the younger lady. And then, seeing Elizabeth hovering in the doorway, ‘Ah. A fresh face, thank goodness! Please do come in, ma’am. After two days trapped in the chaise together, my cousin and I are fast running out of conversation.’ She rose, smiling. ‘Allow us to introduce ourselves. I am Philippa Sutherland and this is Lady Davenport. How do you do?’

  Elizabeth curtsied, smiled shyly back and said, ‘Arabella Brandon, ma’am – and delighted to make your acquaintance.’

  Invited to sit with them and promptly informed that they were on their way into Cambridgeshire to support Lady Davenport’s youngest sister through her first confinement, Elizabeth did not see any harm in revealing her own destination. And though some latent instinct warned her to omit any reference to Lord Sherbourne, a seemingly ami
able if rather direct question left her unable to be similarly reticent about the Duke of Rockliffe … at which point the ladies became very friendly indeed.

  ‘Ah!’ said Lady Davenport, as if a mystery had been solved. ‘Did I not say, Philippa, that a chaise bearing a crest had arrived? It must have been yours, Mistress Brandon.’

  ‘Mine?’ echoed Elizabeth, caught unawares. ‘No. That is – it belongs to – to another traveller who --’

  From just beyond the door, Sherbourne heard her losing herself in a tangle of potentially dangerous admissions. Moving quickly to put a stop to them, he walked in saying, ‘I believe the carriage under discussion is mine.’ And only then realised he had made a catastrophic mistake.

  There was an abrupt silence, during which Lady Davenport’s smile became something very different and Lady Sutherland turned perfectly white, her eyes locked with those of the earl. Just for an instant, Ralph felt himself struggling to breathe. Then Lady Davenport said frigidly, ‘Lord Sherbourne … a surprise indeed.’

  ‘Yes. I’m sure it is.’ Quite how, he did not know, but somehow he got the words out and even managed a bow. ‘How do you do, Philippa? I trust Lord Sutherland and the rest of your family enjoy their customary good health?’

  ‘It has certainly improved recently,’ she said stingingly. ‘Remind me, my lord … how many months is it since you were last in town?’

  With an unpleasant jolt, Elizabeth recognised that this was less an undercurrent than a thirty-gun salvo. She opened her mouth on some innocuous remark but was forestalled by his lordship, who said, ‘Several. I am flattered that you noticed.’ And before her ladyship could respond, he shot a pointed glance in Elizabeth’s direction and, bowing as if to a complete stranger, said, ‘Ma’am.’

  Are we not to know each other? wondered Elizabeth, baffled. But, responding to his cue, she curtsied and murmured, ‘Sir.’

  ‘I think, Charlotte,’ said Philippa clearly, ‘that I would prefer to dine in our rooms after all, would not you?’

  ‘Absolutely. Not a doubt of it. And Mistress Brandon … perhaps you will join us? After all, we can’t leave you to dine unchaperoned with a – a --’

  ‘An unmarried gentleman?’ suggested Ralph, willing the Brandon chit to accept before things got any worse. ‘Were those the words you were looking for?’

  ‘Not precisely,’ she snapped. ‘Not at all, in fact.’

  ‘Beg pardon, Miss Belle,’ said Annie, bustling in without warning, ‘but his lordship’s man brought the other bag up and I found the shawl we were looking for. Here it is.’

  If the atmosphere had been unpleasant before it was now positively toxic; so much so that even Annie noticed it and added awkwardly, ‘Sorry for interrupting.’

  Stepping away from Elizabeth as if fearing contamination, Philippa Sutherland said, ‘There is no need to apologise. You have cleared up our misconceptions beautifully. Come, Charlotte.’ And the pair of them swept from the room in a cloud of disgust.

  Ralph briefly shut his eyes and tried to shake off the feeling of dizzying unreality. Then, having told Annie to get out, he impaled Elizabeth on an acute stare and said, ‘How much did you tell them?’

  ‘I – not very much. Does it matter?’

  ‘Matter? Oh no. Charlotte Davenport is one of the biggest gossips in London, of course … but no. The fact that she has just seen us together and drawn her own conclusions does not matter in the least. What did you tell them?’ And when she hesitated, ‘For God’s sake, madam! At least assure me that you did not mention Rockliffe?’

  ‘I can’t,’ whispered Elizabeth, as comprehension slowly dawned.

  ‘Hell.’ He swung away towards the fireplace and, glancing over his shoulder at her, said coldly, ‘You do realise what they are thinking, do you not?’

  She shook her head, though she had an unpleasant premonition that she did.

  ‘No? Then allow me to enlighten you. They believe that we are lovers.’

  ‘L-Lovers?’ She could feel herself turning scarlet. ‘No! Surely they can’t --’

  ‘They can. And they will make certain that their suspicions reach the duke’s ears. Not,’ he added bitterly, ‘that they will have to try very hard to do that.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ She was starting to feel slightly sick. And when he merely shrugged and said nothing, ‘It may not be as bad as you think. They aren’t travelling to London. They’re going to --’

  ‘They could be going to the Outer Hebrides,’ he snapped, wheeling to face her. ‘My lovely simpleton … you really have no idea, do you? They will write letters to their friends. And their friends will write letters to their friends … with the result that, in a week or less, London will be awash with the news that a young, unmarried connection of the Duke of Rockliffe is Ralph Sherbourne’s latest mistress. And his Grace’s likely reaction to that is something I would rather not contemplate.’

  ‘I’ll explain,’ said Elizabeth desperately. ‘When I explain that you’ve merely helped me out of a difficult situation and – and that whatever he has heard is merely the result of ill-natured women jumping to conclusions …’ She stopped, frowning. ‘Why are they ill-natured? Why would they immediately think the worst?’

  Sherbourne dropped into a chair, crossed one long leg over the other and contemplated her with an acid-edged smile. He said, ‘That took a while, did it not? But I knew we would get there eventually – even though two days’ exposure to my immense charm has naturally made it inconceivable to you that there could be people who might dislike me.’

  ‘Not at all,’ she retorted. ‘But why them?’

  For a moment or two, he wondered what she would say if he told her what Philippa had once meant to him and the hopes he’d thought they shared … before her brother’s death had changed everything; everything, that was, except the way he still felt about her. If he’d explained that for two months, he’d sliced his heart open writing to her every day and begging, not for forgiveness, but simply not to be condemned unheard. Until the day all his letters had been returned unopened … along with the announcement of her wedding to Phineas Sutherland.

  But Arabella Brandon did not need to know any of that – and neither would it help. So he drawled, ‘They have their reasons. It doesn’t matter. What does matter is preserving your reputation. As a general rule, I would say that Rockliffe’s influence is sufficient to put an end to any scandalous suspicions. But if, in this particular instance, he feels that only action will serve … well. Let us hope it does not come to that.’

  ‘Why? What will he do?’ asked Elizabeth. And then, eyes widening with horror, ‘He – he won’t challenge you to a duel, will he?’

  Ralph gave a wholly unamused laugh.‘No. For numerous reasons, that is the very last thing he will do. Nor does he need to when he can actually do something more helpful and much, much more final.’ He paused, eyeing her sardonically. ‘He can insist that we marry.’

  ~ * * ~ * * ~

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Arabella had not expected her first meal with the children to be a resounding success and it wasn’t. All of them bolted their food; none of them knew how to use a knife; and her first attempt at civilised conversation resulted in an immediate and very necessary lecture on not speaking with one’s mouth full. By the time it was over, she had a monumental headache and therefore decided that the battle to make them sit still and read could wait until the following day. There was a need for more books anyway – few of those in the schoolroom being in readable condition; but it wasn’t going to be possible to find others while the key to the library door remained in the earl’s pocket.

  By the time Arabella hadn’t clapped eyes on his lordship for forty-eight hours, she came to the conclusion that he was avoiding her – which in some respects wasn’t a bad thing but, in others, was a downright nuisance. So when she virtually collided with him in the hall after dinner, she stopped him in his tracks by saying brightly, ‘Good evening, my lord. May I have a word, please?’


  Although seemingly not the alarming species of female he had expected, Julian was still acutely wary of Mistress Marsden. ‘I – yes. I suppose so.’

  This was hardly encouraging but she persevered.

  ‘I wondered if it would be alright to raid the attics.’

  ‘The attics?’

  ‘Yes. The children’s rooms could be made more cheerful and it occurred to me that, among the bits and pieces that were discarded years ago, might be things that could be useful. Old toys, perhaps. And curtains.’

  ‘Curtains?’ Julian was starting to feel as imbecilic as he doubtless sounded.

  ‘Yes,’ agreed Arabella. ‘Do I have your permission to look?’

  Since it didn’t require money, he didn’t know why she was asking. Preparing to make his escape, he said, ‘By all means.’

  ‘Thank you. And there’s something else, if you wouldn’t mind.’

  Reluctantly, Julian halted and turned back. ‘What?’

  ‘Are there books in the library?’

  ‘Books?’ He frowned, as if a library containing books was an alien concept. ‘I think so.’

  ‘Good. I would like to look through them, please.’

  His expression grew instantly mistrustful. ‘Why?’

  ‘The children need to practise their reading,’ she said patiently. ‘Unfortunately, the books in the schoolroom are dropping apart so I am hoping the library holds something suitable and in better condition. May I have the key?’

  He was shaking his head before she had finished speaking.

  ‘No. I’m sorry … but no.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘I work in there. I don’t … I just prefer no one else goes in.’

  Since this was exactly what both children and servants had warned her to expect, Arabella was ready for it.