by Beth Elliott
The gentleman’s frown deepened. Now his lips were a thin line. ‘It will mend, I thank you, ma’am.’
Well, what had she said there to make him snap her nose off? wondered Kitty. She bit back a sharp retort and glared up at him. Now he really was looking at her, actually seeing her. His dark brows lifted slightly. Kitty found herself gazing into the most intensely blue eyes she had ever seen. Fascinated, she just looked, feeling her heart jump as if it would force its way out of her chest. Her lips parted in silent surprise. She forgot what she had planned to say.
It seemed that time stood still, but at length she saw the corner of his mouth twitch and realized she was staring like an idiot. He was laughing at her! Hastily, she turned her head away. ‘My book,’ she said in a husky voice.
Without another word, the gentleman opened the door of the stall and retrieved the thick volume. Kitty held out her hand but he turned the book over to inspect the title.
‘Dear me,’ he drawled. ‘The Trials of Arabella. Gothic romance!’ He shook his head and glanced at Kitty’s indignant face. ‘Well, perhaps reading this is better than wandering around stables in strange inns. You never know who you might meet in such places.’
‘Indeed!’ said Kitty in a freezing tone. ‘Pray have the goodness to give me my book, sir.’
He took a step forward and stood right in front of her. ‘Very well, ma’am. But there is a forfeit for frightening my poor Nimrod.’
Before Kitty could move he had put a hand under her chin and brought his own head down swiftly to kiss her, full on the lips. Surprise kept her motionless for a few seconds. Then she struggled wildly and he let her go, laughing as he handed her the novel. She gave him a burning look, put a hand to her mouth and raced for the door.
In the stable, Theo Weston set about applying the bran poultice to the grazed hock. ‘No matter where we go,’ he told Nimrod, through clenched teeth, ‘the girls seem to find us. Even you cannot escape them.’ He shook his head. Nimrod shifted as he felt the warm bandage on his raw wound. His master came round to stroke his nose and soothe him. ‘Easy, old friend, easy,’ he murmured. He gave a reluctant grin. ‘But this time, at least, she was very pretty.…’
‘If all the fine gentlemen of London permit themselves such liberties I shall be going home very soon, I can tell you,’ Kitty announced, brushing her hair vigorously. She had confided her adventure to Amelia when they were finally on their own and preparing for bed.
‘He sounds very disagreeable,’ agreed Amelia. ‘Maybe he feels angry because he took a tumble and dislikes females knowing about it. But his horse loves him, so he must have a kind side. And I know you found him handsome,’ she added with a teasing glance.
Kitty shook her head in denial. However, she could not hide her feelings from Millie, who had known her all her life. She was attracted to this stranger, even while she was furious at his lack of manners. One look at his devil-may-care face and she had lost all her common sense. She had only herself to blame for that kiss. She wondered what was wrong with her that she still wanted to see him again more than anything else. But then, she thought, as she blew out the candle, it would be just her luck if they never met again.
The next day, much to the landlord’s disappointment, the mail coach drove into the yard. The driver confirmed that the roads were now passable to the east. The Warringtons set off again and found that the weather improved as they drew nearer to London. They were all eager to finish the journey. However, Kitty soon laid her novel aside. She stared out unseeing at the view from the carriage window. She felt a growing anxiety at the ordeal ahead. She did not know what had caused the breach in the family, but it must have been serious to have lasted for so many years. What if her great-aunt was still angry and made life difficult for her?
In addition, she was struggling to cope with unaccustomed emotions. Was she just apprehensive of going amongst the fashionable people of London society, Kitty wondered, or had she been thunderstruck by a pair of bright blue eyes? He had treated her like the heroine in a silly romance and that was partly her own fault for dropping the book. He seemed to think she had done it deliberately. He was arrogant and had taken advantage of her, but it was a good lesson. She would not get into such a situation another time. She rubbed her lips. One kiss was not going to harm her in any way. Of course, it would be better if she never met him again.
Oh, why had she let Mama persuade her to come to town? She thought wistfully of Papa, doing his best in the hospital. He needed her help and it would be so much more worthwhile than trying to make conversation with haughty town beaux.…
When at last the coach stopped in Grosvenor Square and the door opened, Kitty felt quite sick with nerves. She clutched at Amelia’s hands. ‘You will come and see me – soon?’ she begged.
Amelia nodded, too overcome to speak. Kitty straightened her back and trod slowly up the steps to the open front door. Taking a deep breath, she looked up at the gloomy face of the butler waiting for her and stepped over the threshold.
CHAPTER FOUR
That same evening a tall gentleman was making his way upstairs to tap on the door of his friend’s sitting-room.
‘You are looking more like yourself this time,’ said Gregory Thatcham, gripping his friend’s hand warmly.
The Honourable Theodore Weston’s face registered surprise, then delight.
‘Where have you sprung from? Oh, but it is good to see you, Greg. You look very fit,’ – he heaved a sigh – ‘unlike me. Welcome to London. Take that coat off and tell me all the news.’ His gloom lifted as he fetched another glass and poured brandy into it. For a little while he would be able to feel he was back in the army.
‘So where is Wellesley based at present?’ he asked, as Greg stretched out his booted feet to the fire and raised his glass to sniff its contents appreciatively.
‘Portugal.’
Theo waited for more, but Greg said nothing.
‘Come on, man, why Portugal and not Spain? What is our regiment up to? Any more battles after Talavera? You know I have been out of touch all these months.’ He looked eagerly at his friend. Greg was frowning down at the glass in his hand.
‘If you are trying to tell me my brandy is not the best.…’
Greg raised his head at that and smiled. ‘What? Nothing like that. Prime quality stuff, this – especially after army fare! No, just wondering – tell me how things are with you, old fellow. Is that leg better?’
Theo rubbed his left thigh. ‘I still know where that damned Frenchman stuck his blade through it. And just a couple of days ago I managed to fall on it. I came off Nimrod on the ice. On my way back from Weston Parcombe. I have been visiting my father.’ He pulled his mouth down and Greg nodded. ‘But’ – Theo swallowed some brandy, then went on – ‘no more fever, my head is clear – and I am damnably bored.’
Greg nodded. ‘Thought so. Good, because I have some work for you.’
Theo’s gaze sharpened. He felt the old eagerness for action. Perhaps the future was not so grim after all.
‘It is touch and go for the army in Portugal,’ Greg began, ‘but we mean to win.’
‘Of course!’
‘After Talavera, Wellesley was the hero of the hour. They made him Viscount Wellington but they still left him short of men and supplies. Then Boney sent another army under Marshal Soult. Our only option was to withdraw into Portugal, to a position we can defend.’
‘Oh, God, don’t I wish I could be there!’ groaned Theo, raking a hand through his dark curly hair.
‘You gave of your best, old fellow. With such wounds, you had to come back to England.’
‘It was the damned fever – the last six months are mostly a blur. And when I was obliged to sell out, I felt so reckless I did some foolish things – got myself into debt and had no choice but to go home.’ He looked at Greg bleakly. ‘You know what my father is like – no welcome for me there.’
‘Still favours your brother, does he?’ Greg frowned and looked closely
at his friend. His open face reflected his deep concern. He knew that Viscount Hethermere had never been close to his stormy older son.
‘It was not important while I was a serving officer,’ said Theo gloomily, ‘but now I am just a crippled ex-soldier.…’ He glanced at Greg and added quickly, ‘That does not mean I am not grateful to you for saving my life—’
‘Just stop there.’ Greg wriggled with embarrassment and rubbed at his short brown hair. ‘Can’t see a friend filleted by those damned cuirassiers and not help him.’
There was a silence as they both remembered the battle of Talavera – the final desperate cavalry charge and the heavy French counter attack. Theo absentmindedly felt his leg where the French horseman had inflicted such a deep wound. Unhorsed and bleeding heavily, he had only been saved by Greg’s swift help.
‘Well,’ he said eventually, coming back to the present, ‘my fighting days are over, but are you saying I can help Wellesley – Wellington, I mean – with something at this end? It makes me feel I am still useful.’
Greg rubbed his chin, a sure sign, Theo knew, that he was anxious. ‘It’s dangerous work,’ he warned.
Theo’s blue eyes lit with genuine amusement. ‘As dangerous as galloping into battle? The risks are what makes it worthwhile.’
Greg frowned. ‘No galloping, Theo. This is diplomatic work and the devil of it is, it could quite likely end with a dagger in your back. Wellington has very few friends at Horseguards – and then Boney’s agents are all over the place, desperate to find out our plans.’
Theo grinned at him. ‘My cautious friend, I see why Wellington chose you for this mission. But why exactly are you here, Greg? You have not come all the way from Lisbon just to ask for more soldiers, have you?’
Greg shook his head. ‘We have enough men. What we need is money – you would not believe how much.’ He chewed his lip as he pondered the problem. ‘But it will be worth it, we are building a complete network of defences around Lisbon. It is certain we will drive the French back – if only these fellows at Horseguards don’t take fright and call off the campaign. That is where you come in. You can be very persuasive.’
Theo’s eyes shone. ‘Oh, I can do that for you; it will be a pleasure. I am frequently down at Horseguards anyway – my cousin Tom is under secretary to Lord Sheldon and so he is always there, with the pro-Wellington people, that is. We have to see that Wellington gets his money. What do those other fools think will happen if they recall him? Lord! We would have the French Army on our doorstep within the year.’
He got up abruptly and limped over to the window. He turned to see Greg watching him critically. ‘Oh yes,’ he said in a bitter tone, ‘heart-rending, isn’t it? No dancing for me these days.’
‘What about riding? You said you came off your horse.…’
‘Oh, that was only because of the bad weather – it gets very icy on the hills near home. But poor Nimrod suffered more than I did.’ He shook his head. ‘It was just the finishing touch to a charming visit.’
Greg looked enquiringly at him.
Theo’s eyes narrowed. ‘I told you I got into debt. I had a scheme and needed a large sum of money to set it up.’ He shrugged and held up both hands. ‘Never was any good with the cards.’
Greg grinned and nodded. ‘Don’t I know it!’
‘So that made matters worse.’ He wandered over to the table and poured himself more brandy. Scowling, he added, ‘Ironic, really! Since the fever, I am a reformed character. But my father was furious. He misliked my scheme even more than my debts. All I wanted was to have some purpose in life, so I set up a hospice to help a few poor souls. Injured soldiers, mostly. He told me I should have had all this army nonsense knocked out of me by now.’
Greg preserved a discreet silence, but kept watching him intently.
‘Oh damnation,’ said Theo, ‘then I tried to please him by offering to learn how to run the estate, but he didn’t want that. Doesn’t want me near Alexander.’
‘As bad as that?’ Greg looked appalled.
‘He is afraid the boy will get army mad,’ explained Theo. ‘But he did suggest it was time I settled down. He even had a girl lined up.’
When Greg raised an eyebrow Theo nodded grimly. ‘Exactly! If I ever do get shackled, I want a girl it is not a punishment to look at. When I refused his choice, he fell into the devil’s own rage. He had even invited the girl and her mother to visit. So’ – he shrugged – ‘I beat a hasty retreat – and here I am, back in Stratton Street.’ He tossed off his brandy and reached for the bottle to refill his glass. His hand was not quite steady.
It was not necessary to explain to Greg how much it hurt to always see Alexander preferred to himself. For years, Theo’s home and family had been the army. Now, due to his wound he had lost it. Life was lonely and boring and he was back in the reckless mood of his youth. But maybe this new mission would put some meaning back into his life. His eyes gleamed at the idea of persuading the few men of influence likely to support Wellington in his latest efforts to defeat Napoleon.
He came back to his chair and held out his glass. ‘Well,’ he said with a smile, ‘let us drink to my new career.’
‘And to success in the Peninsula.’
They savoured their drinks. Then Greg stirred. ‘I have a few letters to deliver. From the great man himself,’ he added, as Theo looked a question. ‘I can deal with all of them personally except the one to the Prince of Wales. Can you help me there?’
‘You want to see him privately?’
Greg nodded. Theo pursed his lips. ‘Think I can organize it, but it may take a while. How long are you staying?’
‘I must go back as soon as I can get a favourable response to these letters. I tell you, old fellow, the situation is mighty serious out there. But most important of all is to keep everything secret from fellows like Lord Dalbeagh and Sir Thomas Knight. They have influence at court and they are set against allowing Wellington to continue fighting this Peninsular campaign.’
He got up and looked round for his coat.
Theo considered him frowningly. ‘Are you sure nobody will try to disrupt your mission?’
Greg gave a bark of laughter. ‘Oh, they will try. But they cannot know I am here yet. Only reached town this evening,’ He pulled on his coat and adjusted the capes. ‘and I am off again at first light for a few days, so with luck, I shall have all my replies before they can organize any opposition. But before I set off for Portugal again I plan to enjoy myself a little.’
‘Well, then, let us meet at Lady Caroline Bannister’s ball next week. I should have made arrangements for an audience with the Prince by then. It is always better to talk in a crowd.’
Greg nodded agreement. The door closed behind him. Theo stared into the fire. He took a deep breath. Was it possible that things were going to improve at last?
CHAPTER FIVE
Kitty followed Amelia into the barouche. She settled into her seat and let out her breath in a long sigh. ‘Escape – at last!’
‘Why, Kitty, it has only been two days,’ laughed Amelia, ‘and there is so much to do and see—’
‘Maybe for you, Millie,’ interrupted Kitty, ‘but I am staying in a household of elderly people.’ She pulled a face.
‘Is it so bad?’
‘Well, you must have noticed when you came to call just now. Broome – the butler, is old and slow. It takes him ages to lead the way upstairs. My aunt is a little old lady and her maid is nearly as old as she is. The house is so quiet, it is as if it is asleep. I dare not make a sound in there.’
Amelia leaned forward and squeezed Kitty’s hand. ‘Not at all like the vicarage, with all the children running around. But you will cope with the situation better than I could. And at least you are here in London.’
Kitty gave her a speaking look and heaved a sigh.
‘I agree, everything is new and strange,’ went on Amelia, ‘and I feel intimidated by the number of fashionable events that Mama says we must go to. I re
ally need your support, Kitty.’
‘Nonsense! You will soon be at ease. They are only people, after all.’
‘But Mama says they are on the watch for any sign of bad breeding, or lack of correct manners. It makes me feel so clumsy and ignorant.’
‘You silly goose.’ Kitty smiled. ‘If they are staring at you, Millie, it is because they are struck by your sweet face and golden hair – not to mention this charming outfit.’ She indicated the sky-blue velvet coat, trimmed with swansdown. ‘Have you been shopping already?’
‘Oh – yes. We spent ages trailing from one modiste to another yesterday. That is how I got my first taste of these intimidating grand ladies and their haughty stares.’
‘Of course they are staring. I am sure none of them has a daughter who can compete with your looks. Now then, what monuments are we going to visit? My aunt only gave permission because this visit is educational.’
Amelia rolled her eyes. ‘That does sound a bit frightening. Mama is waiting for us in Green Street. We want to show you the house and then pay a visit to the British Museum and see some of the sights in that area.’
‘Well, that sounds like an interesting day – I shall be able to put it all in my letter home. Will your father take the letter for me?’
‘Of course he will, but you will have to write it quickly. He sets off on the return journey tomorrow.’
Kitty found her spirits rising again. She could not admit, even to Millie, how she had cried herself to sleep on her first night in the large, sombre house in Grosvenor Square. Her aunt had seemed cold and unwelcoming. Kitty felt herself to be under inspection by every member of the household. She sensed the disapproval, the mistrust of something that was going to change their routine.
The two days she had spent there so far confirmed that everything was done according to a rigid code of etiquette. Used to the lively atmosphere of her own home, Kitty felt stifled in the solemn formality of Lady Picton’s residence. Her aunt had still given no clue regarding the long quarrel with Kitty’s mother. However, she had become a little less chilly and, when Mrs Warrington sent a note asking if Kitty might accompany Amelia on a tour of the principal monuments, she had given permission.
