Honey Pot

by Mira Stables

  She was granted a few moments’ respite in which to shake off the last veils of sleep and brace herself to face the threatening danger. Letty had certainly recognised her, so denials or evasion would only serve to strengthen the suspicion that there was something clandestine and probably shameful about her presence. She profoundly hoped that Ahmed Khan would have the good sense to realise this. And her faith was justified. The butler presently bowed before her, his countenance imperturbable as ever, his voice gravely concerned as he said, “Three visitors, mistress. Two ladies say they know you. Miss Ingram, they say. I put gentleman in library, wait till master come home, but two ladies wish to speak you.”

  Russet drew a deep breath and managed a smile for him. “I rather thought I recognised them,” she said tranquilly. “Well I am scarcely dressed for receiving callers but you may bring them out here to me. Set chairs for them if you please, and ask Phoebe to have tea and cakes sent out for us. You will offer the gentleman some suitable refreshment, will you not?”

  Ahmed Khan bowed and withdrew. Russet planned swiftly. She refused to demean herself by lying to the Waydenes, but if prevarication would serve she must do her possible to keep them from the truth. Not only her own reputation was at stake. There was Joanna’s future to be considered and the part played by Mr Cameron to be concealed. While it would do him no harm to be discovered dallying with the fashionable Miss Ingram, it would not do for any rumours of abduction to be set abroad. Russet could well imagine the reactions of some of her court. Those two foolish boys, for instance, who had so nearly come to blows over a dropped rose. Mr Cameron’s existence would be rendered unsupportable by attempts to thrust duels upon him; his departure to the Highlands would be construed as flight.

  But the expressions on the faces of the two ladies whom Ahmed Khan presently conducted out on to the terrace might have intimidated the boldest. Letty had dropped all pretence since there was no one at hand to be impressed. Curiosity, malice, even a hint of triumph, were all plain to be seen. Mrs Waydene’s advance was militant but tempered with discretion. If there was any scandal afoot she would ferret it out with avidity, but Miss Ingram was a young woman of some consequence. If she was unjustly maligned there would be repercussions. Mrs Waydene would reconnoitre very cautiously before she brought up her heavy guns, but she commenced harassing fire with her first words.

  “So it really is you, Miss Ingram. I declare I could scarce believe it when Letty said she had seen you sitting here on the terrace and looking so very much at home. I had thought you—if I had thought about it at all—in Rome with your Papa by now. Was not that your intention when last we talked of our plans for the summer?”

  Russet busied herself with seeing the ladies comfortably established out of the sun’s glare. “It was indeed,” she agreed with a rueful little smile. “But the best laid plans, ma’am, as the Scottish poet tells us—”

  She let the sentence trail off as she asked if Mrs Waydene would like another cushion. That lady declined the suggestion frigidly, but was then obliged to suspend hostilities while Ahmed Khan and one of the little Indian maids arranged the tea table. She was even obliged to accept a subtle reverse when the butler gravely enquired if she would dispense the tea or if she wished him to do so. Russet took heart. If this was Ahmed Khan’s approach, she need not fear betrayal from the servants.

  Mrs Waydene poured the tea and returned to the attack. “And pray what mischance befell that you were unable to keep to your plans?” she enquired sweetly.

  Russet smiled back. “An accident to my carriage,” she explained. “Oh no, nothing serious. We went into the ditch to avoid a collision. My coachman went to the nearest house to get help—to pull us out of the ditch, you know—and the nearest house was this one. Only I very foolishly fainted from the shock, and when I came to myself, my maid informed me that Mr Cameron, with whom I was slightly acquainted, had insisted that I rest here until I was quite recovered.”

  “Dear me. And when did this accident occur?”

  “Why—I suppose it must have been about eleven o’clock,” returned Russet innocently. “We lay overnight at Petersfield, you see, so as to have plenty of time for the loading of the carriage.”

  That was sufficiently vague, she hoped, guiltily aware that it was also deliberately misleading. But it was a pity that she had chosen to wear the cream Swiss. She had done so, of course, hoping to prove to Mr Cameron that even a slender scrap like herself was not wholly devoid of femininity. But its every ruffle and fold bespoke a lady taking her afternoon ease on a summer’s day in her own garden. It certainly did not suggest an earnest traveller delayed by accident.

  Fortunately Mrs Waydene was pursuing another line of thought. “That heathen looking creature said that his master was gone into Southampton on business,” she said sourly. “Is that in fact the case?”

  Russet feigned mild bewilderment. “Why—I believe so. I rather fancy some such engagement was mentioned.” And then, embroidering the lily, “You are not to be thinking him neglectful of my welfare. There was no need for him to be dancing attendance on me here, you know. I have my maid with me, and in any case I am perfectly recovered.”

  “Just when he was urgently needed to sort out the tangle of Letty’s affairs,” snapped Mrs Waydene, unguarded in her annoyance.

  She regretted the admission as soon as it was uttered. But Russet, while curious as to precisely what sort of tangle Letty had got herself into, was too preoccupied by her own delicate manoeuvring in a sea of half-truths to take advantage of the opening. “We must just wait until he comes home,” decided Mrs Waydene firmly.

  But if her Mama was blind to the implications of Miss Ingram’s appearance, Letty, blandly confident that her mother and her guardian between them would easily smooth out the difficulty of being promised to a second gentleman before she had disengaged herself from the first, was not. As always, she had been seized with fury by Miss Ingram’s effortless perfection. There was nothing, not one single note of high fashion about that soft, simple gown, to give it its touch of exclusiveness. Letty knew perfectly well that that inimitable air was added by the wearer, but jealousy did not blind her to the manifest unsuitability of such a gown for travelling. Either some of Miss Ingram’s baggage had been unpacked so that she could change her dress after the accident or she had been at Furze House a good deal longer than she was prepared to admit. Letty was inclined to the latter theory. She had more cause than Mama for remembering the details of Miss Ingram’s plans. Had she not thought that Lucian had gone to Southampton in attendance on her? And that was more than a month past. There was some mystery here that would bear investigation, decided Letty. She said thoughtfully, “I am sure Lucian said that you were sailing for Italy at the end of June.”

  It was not a question, but Russet dared not ignore it. She said as lightly as possible, “Did he? Well I daresay that was the date I mentioned at first. But the days slip past so quickly, don’t they? There was some delay over finding a suitable abigail, you must know, and then I indulged myself with a few idle days in Town. It is surprisingly pleasant to linger on there after everyone else has gone into the country or to some fashionable resort. One can stroll in the park or go shopping at one’s leisure. You should try it some time.”

  But Letty was not to be deflected. Emboldened by this attempt at evasion she said bluntly, “Are we to take it, then, that you have been all these weeks in Town? Strolling in the park and shopping?”

  Russet was, in general, a tolerant creature, but this insolence was past bearing. Her temper rose and she forgot, temporarily, the difficulties of her situation. She would have burst into impetuous speech had not Jai, at that moment, emerged from beneath the doolie where she had been taking an afternoon nap. Her unexpected appearance caused Letty to give a little shriek and spring back in alarm, conduct which encouraged the pup to bark at her delightedly, inviting her to a game of tag, and gave Russet time to recollect all the dangers of rash speech. She busied herself with restraining t
he pup and assuring her visitors that it was the most affectionate creature despite its ferocious appearance, hoping that the little incident had diverted Letty’s mind.

  Mrs Waydene said disparagingly that it seemed a very odd kind of dog for a lady to choose and that for her part she did not hold with keeping animals about one’s person, but Letty, once assured that the creature would not bite her, returned immediately to the far more absorbing topic of that unaccountable gap in Miss Ingram’s recital. “You did not answer my question,” she reminded insistently.

  Russet’s brows lifted in polite enquiry. “Did I not? Was it important?” she fenced desperately.

  Letty said mulishly, “I asked if we were to understand that you had been all these weeks in Town.”

  “And I really cannot see that Miss Ingram’s whereabouts are any concern of yours,” suggested an icy voice from behind Russet’s chair. “I am surprised that your Mama should countenance such impertinence to a lady who is my guest.”

  Mr Cameron, who had made good speed in his return, being anxious to present his gift to Miss Ingram, had been met as he rode into the stable yard by a worried Ahmed Khan who had swiftly furnished him with an account of his unexpected visitors. Cursing the mischance that had brought them at so inconvenient a juncture of his affairs, Mr Cameron had made haste to the rescue. Letty’s remark had shown him the extreme delicacy of the situation. Characteristically he made a prompt decision.

  Leaving Mrs Waydene and her daughter to swallow his rebuke with what grace they could muster, he turned to Russet. “That wretched pup has pulled your shoe-string loose again,” he said, in a voice so different from the one he had used to Letty that all three ladies stared. “Let me tie it for you, or you may trip and fall.”

  He dropped lightly on one knee beside her, his back to the visitors, concealing the fact that her shoe-string was perfectly secure, and made pretence of re-fastening it. That done, he rose, sketched her a teasing mockery of a very grand bow and lightly kissed her hand, bestowing such a significant squeeze on the fingers that he held that a far slower wit than Russet’s must have perceived that he was engaging her co-operation in whatever he might choose to say or do. Then he turned and smiled quite charmingly at Mrs Waydene.

  “Forgive me, ma’am, if I sounded a little severe. The young are frequently careless of the appearance that they present, but I had certainly expected that Letty, with you to guide her, would have been well aware that the expression of open curiosity is only permissible in children. Since I understand that she hopes shortly to become a married lady”—he smiled, as though the thought was amusing—“she must submit herself to the code of the grownup world.” And he bestowed a forgiving smile on Letty, who stood too much in awe of him to pout and sulk as she would have liked to do.

  Mrs Waydene said swiftly, “Yes, well, that is just why we are come to consult with you. About Letty’s betrothal. Though it seems that we have chosen an inconvenient time.” This last with a venomous glance at Russet. “Perhaps Miss Ingram would allow us to be private with you for a while. One cannot be discussing such intimate affairs in front of strangers.”

  “No, indeed,” agreed Mr Cameron cordially. “Shocking bad ton. But you must not be regarding Russet as a stranger, you know. We have not announced it publicly since we plan to have a very quiet ceremony, but I know I can rely upon you to keep my confidence and need not hesitate to tell so old a friend that Miss Ingram and I are shortly to be wed. Indeed”—Mr Cameron did not disdain to tell a thumping lie in a good cause—“you behold a very disappointed man. I have just been to the receiving office hoping that our special license might have arrived, but it has not. I think I shall post off to Town myself to see if I cannot hurry matters along, once I have escorted you safely back to the Sheridans’, my dear.”

  It was perhaps fortunate for Mr Cameron’s deception that the Waydene ladies were too shocked by this disclosure to pay any attention to Russet’s reactions. Letty was of the disposition that must always repine to hear that another girl was to make an advantageous marriage, and in this particular case she had a personal interest. Though the possibility had only been hinted in the most delicate way, she and her mother were of the opinion that her guardian, having attained the vast age of thirty five without showing the slightest sign of interest in females, was now unlikely to marry. In such a case, how better could he dispose of his considerable fortune than by leaving it to the family of his old friend? So Letty was furious, and hard put to it to contain her feelings. Mrs Waydene was sour and disappointed but thankful that she had been wary in her approach to the prospective bride. If she had not been particularly civil, at least she had not been openly rude. For where Miss Ingram had been a force to reckon with, Mrs Cameron would be far more formidable.

  In that first moment of disclosure both ladies were too preoccupied with their own feelings to spare a glance for Russet. For Russet, who, for that one ridiculous unguarded moment had thought him serious; whose face had been irradiated by sheer ecstasy. So close they had grown, she dreamed, the understanding between them so simple and perfect, that he had not even thought it necessary to ask her consent. And then she recalled that significant pressure on her fingers; the intent, conspiratorial gleam in the dark-fringed grey eyes; and knew, with a sense of bitter desolation that this was only a play; designed, it was true, by his chivalry to protect her good name, but just make-believe in which she was expected to play her part. Valiantly she put on a smiling countenance and an air of pretty modesty almost worthy of Letty as she received their exclamations and their conventional good wishes.

  Her newly acquired betrothed, well aware of the strain in her manner, sought successfully to divert the attention of the ladies to their own affairs.

  “But you wished to discuss Letty’s betrothal; not mine,” he recalled, with that delightful, fugitive smile. “Pray forgive me! So Staneborough has come up to scratch at last, has he, Letty? And you wish me to talk with him about settlements and marriage plans.”

  From a man who knew perfectly well that it was not Staneborough but Robert Dysart who was nervously awaiting his arrival in the library, this was less than kind. But there was a score to be paid. Mr Cameron was not a man who liked being tricked and fooled—and Letty, with her innocent face, her practised cajolery and her deceitful tongue had fooled him to the top of his bent. So much he might have forgiven—or rather, ignored, deeming her beneath contempt now that he had her measure. But in doing so she had wrecked his hopes of happiness—for who knew how Miss Ingram might have regarded his suit if he had been given the opportunity of meeting her on fair terms—and worst of all, had caused his little love to suffer all the pains of abduction and imprisonment. Whenever he thought of that perilous attempt at escape, he still sickened. He did not attempt to minimise his own responsibility. His punishment was heavy, but he acknowledged that it was just. And Miss Letty should not escape scot free.

  But by the time that she and her Mama had stumbled and stammered their way to a quite unnecessary explanation, he was feeling slightly ashamed, and went off to interview the latest aspirant to Letty’s hand in a much softened frame of mind, though determined that this time he would make sure that the troublesome chit was shifted off his hands for good and all. Since the two ladies were left to the ministrations of the tender-hearted Russet, who could not help pitying their discomfort however thoroughly she disliked the pair of them, it was a reasonably contented trio who presently drove away from Furze House, waved off by the engaged couple with polite promises of future meetings and of prompt attention to such matters of business as were proper between guardian and bridegroom-elect.

  Only then, in the soreness of her heart and her fierce determination that he should not guess it, did Russet turn to her quondam jailer and say briskly, “And here’s a fine set-out! How do you propose to get yourself out of that fix? That pretty pair will have the news of our ‘betrothal’ spread half over Hampshire before nightfall. Your old friends whom you can trust to keep your confid
ence!”

  Had he half hoped for a different, a gentler response? Certainly the hint of amusement that he imagined in the cool voice stung that touchy pride of his. He swallowed the humble, apologetic explanation that he had intended and smiled down at her, tall, lazily relaxed, idly stirring the squirming bull pup with his toe. “But my dear Miss Ingram,” he said gently. “Whatever gave you the notion that I wished to get out of it?”

  Chapter Ten

  “But my dear girl! You must see that it is the only way in which I can make amends for the injury I have done you.”

  Russet nodded wearily. She was pale but composed, though strain had drawn dark circles beneath her eyes. “Yes. And you in turn, might pay some heed to my objections. I am sure your chivalry is admirable. But no woman wishes to marry simply to satisfy a man’s sense of obligation.”

  “What will you do if you persist in your refusal to marry me? The Waydenes will undoubtedly spread the word of our betrothal, as you yourself declared, and if no marriage ensues they are bound to recollect the compromising situation in which they discovered you. I might buy their silence with the promise of a handsome dower for Letty and the other girls but one could never rely on them. Either from malice or from carelessness they might let slip some hint—and you have been absent from all your usual haunts for several weeks. Scandal would find ample breeding ground in that alone. At best your reputation would be sadly blown upon, your social pre-eminence at an end.”

  “It’s little I should care for that,” she retorted. And, at his raised brows, “Oh—the loss of my good name I must naturally regret. Especially as it is wholly undeserved,” she threw in bitterly, hard driven by his persistence. “But social success I hold pretty cheap. It may be achieved by any oddity who chances to catch the fancy of a set of people bored to distraction by their own idleness. It very soon palls. In fact I had already made up my mind to retire from the social scene before your advent into my affairs.”