Not that it mattered now. She had loved her husband deeply, even worshipped him. He might have hoped, once she had recovered a little from her grief, that she could come to love him. But even if she could forgive him for contributing to her ruin, she now knew the truth about his past. He had seen the horror and revulsion in her eyes when she learned that he had killed a man.
There was no way back from that.
* * *
‘Mr Charles Teddington, my lady.’
The servant’s announcement caused Arabella to drop her embroidery frame. Lady Roffey smiled at her.
‘Do not look so anxious, my dear. I shall not leave you alone with him.’
‘I wish you would deny him.’
‘But how can we do that? He was George’s friend, after all. And who knows, perhaps he has come to tell us he has dissuaded his sister from spreading rumours about you.’ She rose from her seat in readiness to greet their visitor. ‘Ah, Mr Teddington. This is a surprise. Do come and sit down, sir. You will take a glass of wine, I am sure? Sir Adam will join us shortly.’
‘Lady Roffey, delighted, ma’am. I did not know you were in town. When Mrs Roffey did not appear at the recital last evening I was concerned and called to assure myself that she is well. However, I think your arrival explains her absence.’
He turned and bowed to Arabella, all smiles.
She gave him a cold stare. ‘I am perfectly well and all the better now I have Sir Adam and Lady Roffey with me.’
She picked up her embroidery and continued to set her stitches, allowing Lady Roffey to carry on a conversation with their guest. It was only a few moments until Sir Adam joined them, followed quickly by a footman with refreshments. All the while Charles Teddington continued to chatter.
She marvelled at his effrontery. He was charm itself, taking a seat opposite Lady Roffey and talking about George, recalling many harmless and amusing anecdotes of times they had spent together. It was a performance designed to appeal to grieving parents and after a while Arabella felt obliged to speak.
‘Since you were clearly so fond of my husband, Mr Teddington, I am surprised you did nothing to prevent him destroying himself.’
‘Ah, ma’am, as I told you, Letchmore and I tried to help him. We pleaded with him to refrain from his excesses but, alas, the last time we saw him, at Meon House, I felt there was some deep-seated unhappiness in the poor fellow. Looking back, I can see he was growing a trifle...unstable.’
‘And you did not think plying him with strong spirits and laudanum was making his situation worse?’ Arabella challenged him.
‘My dear Mrs Roffey, no one plied poor George with anything. He was his own master and he seemed perfectly well when he left us. His death was a shock to us all and a great loss. I am only sorry, now, that his name will be brought into disrepute.’
Arabella froze.
‘Oh?’ Sir Adam lifted an enquiring eyebrow.
Teddington’s face was solemn, a picture of concern. ‘You may not be aware of it, having so recently arrived in town, but a storm is about to break.’
‘Oh, we are aware, Mr Teddington,’ replied Lady Roffey coolly. ‘Arabella informed us of it the moment we arrived.’
Teddington looked taken aback, but he quickly recovered.
‘You will know, then, that my sister has made one of her rare appearances in town. She was quite shocked to discover the lady she had met, calling herself Countess of Westray, was no such thing.’
‘As well she might be,’ growled Sir Adam. ‘The thing is, what does she propose to do?’
‘I have for the moment persuaded her not to say anything about the unfortunate episode,’ came the smooth reply. ‘Not that I hold any regard for the Earl, you understand, but I would not wish to see Mrs Roffey’s name dragged through the mud.’
‘Good of you,’ grunted Sir Adam.
‘No,’ Teddington continued, sitting back at his ease, a glass of Sir Adam’s finest sherry cradled in one hand. ‘My sister holds family ties very dear. I think she might forget the matter entirely, if I could assure her that Mrs Roffey was soon to be her sister-in-law.’
‘Never!’ declared Arabella, sitting up very straight.
Sir Adam waved to her to be quiet. ‘And if such an assurance is not possible?’
‘Then I regret the whole unfortunate incident is certain to become known.’
Lady Roffey leaned forward and said earnestly, ‘Mr Teddington, if you were so very fond of George, surely you would not want his widow to be disgraced in this way?’
‘Of course not, ma’am, but my sister has been tricked. Deceived by Mrs Roffey and Lord Westray. Such outrageous behaviour cannot be concealed. It should not be!’
‘So, I must marry you to buy your sister’s silence,’ put in Arabella.
Teddington inclined his head. ‘Precisely.’
‘Outrageous,’ declared Sir Adam.
‘I am glad you agree with me,’ replied the gentleman.
‘I am not talking about Lord Westray, or my daughter-in-law, although their behaviour was reprehensible.’ Sir Adam jumped to his feet, his voice shaking with barely repressed anger. ‘I am talking about your coming here today. Why, ’tis not only outrageous—it is despicable! We will not be swayed by your threats, sirrah!’
‘Indeed not,’ Lady Roffey agreed. ‘Arabella has explained why she was in Devon and, although she was misguided, we shall stand by her.’
Teddington shook his head and said sadly, ‘You are making a mistake, ma’am.’
‘The mistake I made was not telling Arabella the truth about our son’s illness,’ she retorted. ‘If she had known his ravings were the consequence of taking too much laudanum, she would have accepted his death more readily. As we have done. We will not force her into a distasteful marriage.’
‘Distasteful! I can assure you I have a great deal of regard for your daughter-in-law.’
‘A great deal of regard for her money!’ snapped Sir Adam. ‘Get out. You are beneath contempt.’
Teddington was on his feet, a dull flush darkening the cheeks beneath his whiskers.
‘The truth will be all over London within a sennight.’
‘Do your worst. We shall refute it and we shall make sure your part in this whole sorry episode is made known, too,’ exclaimed Sir Adam, his face alarmingly red. ‘We are returning to Lincolnshire in the morning. I doubt it will cause much of a stir there.’ He stalked to the door and threw it open. ‘Now leave, before I call the servants to throw you out!’
The air was charged with anger. Arabella held her breath until Charles Teddington had picked up his hat and strode out of the room.
‘Damned scoundrel,’ muttered Sir Adam, closing the door behind him. ‘How dare he threaten me!’ He stood still, rubbing at his chest with one hand. ‘Fetch me a glass of brandy, Arabella. There’s a good girl.’
Lady Roffey was already on her feet. ‘My dear, you are unwell. I shall send for the doctor.’
‘No need for any damned sawbones,’ he said testily. ‘That rascal put me in a taking, that is all. But we saw him off. Now do not fuss!’
But this the ladies could not do. Arabella flew across the room to the decanter while Lady Roffey helped her husband to his chair and hovered about him, bringing him an extra cushion and putting a stool beneath his feet. She sent a footman to summon Dr Locke, then sat down beside Sir Adam, rubbing his hand. After a few moments his laboured breathing eased.
‘There,’ he said, ‘I told you not to fuss. I am very well again now.’
‘You are not at all well,’ declared Lady Roffey. ‘Come along, we must get you upstairs and into bed.’
Arabella knew it was a sign of how ill Sir Adam felt that he did not object. She helped Lady Roffey to pull him to his feet and they set off to escort him up the stairs.
‘There’s no need for all this,’
declared Sir Adam irritably, when they reached his bedchamber. ‘A lot of fuss over nothing!’
‘Yes, of course it is,’ replied his lady calmly. ‘But you will go to bed, nevertheless.’
Having left Sir Adam in the hands of his wife and his valet, Arabella made her way to her own room, where she threw herself down on the bed and indulged in a hearty bout of tears. She remained there for the rest of the day, praying she would not have to add Sir Adam’s demise to her already burdened conscience.
* * *
Charles Teddington was still raging over his treatment in Park Street when he made his way to Grillon’s Hotel to dine with his sister that evening. He was shown directly into the private parlour, where the table was already set, but although Ursula might guess from his demeanour that things had not gone well, it could not be discussed until the servants had withdrawn. Only then could he tell her in a few short sentences that his proposal had been rejected.
‘So, Charles, they threw you out.’ Lady Meon regarded her brother over the dining table, a faint, malicious smile on her lips. ‘I am not surprised.’
Teddington glanced towards the door to make sure it was securely closed.
‘You were right’ was his grudging admission. ‘The Roffeys are standing by their daughter-in-law, even in the face of scandal.’
‘Of course. She is a wealthy woman.’
‘Hah! Why should that matter to them? They do not need her money, whereas I—’
‘Yes, we could make good use of a fortune, could we not?’
‘It’s imperative that I get some funds soon, or at least the promise of them, if I am to hold off my creditors,’ he muttered.
‘Do not look to me to bail you out,’ she retorted. ‘I rely upon you to bring at least a couple of affluent guests to my next house party.’ She gestured to him to refill their glasses. ‘My own funds are running low, so your marrying well would be advantageous to both of us. And there is no doubt that Arabella Roffey would do very nicely for you, since her fortune is still her own.’
Teddington’s eyes narrowed. ‘It’s not just the money, Ursula. She is a bewitching creature. If I must marry, then I’d as lief have her in my bed as any other!’
‘Even though she was Westray’s whore?’
‘Why, yes.’ His lip curled. ‘Cringing virgins have never been my style and Arabella Roffey has enough spirit to make the bedding of her...interesting.’
Lady Meon eyed the dish of sweetmeats in the centre of the table. ‘Very well, then. We must make sure you have her.’
‘And how do we do that?’ he snarled. ‘Do you propose to abduct the chit? You may be sure they will not allow the wench to step out of the house unaccompanied. There is no chance of stealing her away.’
‘I have no intention of abducting her. I have a much better plan.’ She selected a sugared almond and sat back in her chair, smiling at him across the table. ‘Arabella Roffey will come to you of her own free will.’
Chapter Fifteen
Sir Adam was advised to keep to his bed for the rest of the week, which he accepted with a bad grace. Esther Hatcliffe offered to postpone her departure to help nurse him, but since her birdlike nervousness irritated Sir Adam beyond bearing, Lady Roffey insisted she should continue with her plans, saying she and Arabella would look after the patient. They put aside their own plans to return to Revesby Hall and spent their hours keeping him company, amusing him with books, card games and backgammon until, after five days, Dr Locke allowed him to leave his bedchamber and come downstairs. He also said one or two close friends might be allowed to visit the patient, but always with his wife in attendance. So anxious was Lady Roffey to keep her husband from exerting himself that she asked Arabella to manage the household.
‘I shall spend every waking hour with him,’ she said, once her husband was comfortably settled on a daybed in the drawing room. ‘You know as well as I what needs to be done around the house, the accounts, the correspondence and so on. After all, you have been dealing with it yourself for the past several weeks. You also know the sort of food Sir Adam needs to tempt him back to health.’
‘I do and I shall speak to Cook about it,’ said Arabella, delighted to be able to help.
With the threat of her escapade in Devon becoming common knowledge, they had agreed she must retire completely from society and she was only too pleased to have an excuse to decline every invitation that arrived. She also wrote to several hostesses to express her apologies for any parties they had already missed.
Rather than disturb the family by using the elegant little writing desk in the drawing room, Arabella retired to the back room that served as the household office. Here she kept the accounts ledgers up to date, talked to the housekeeper and consulted with Cook over menus suitable for the convalescent in the coming days.
She was in the office, tidying the desk, when her mother-in-law came in, her countenance unusually grave.
‘I thought you should see this.’ She waved a news-sheet. ‘Lady Meon has clearly been gossiping.’
‘Oh, dear.’ Arabella’s hand crept to her cheek.
‘Yes.’ Lady Roffey referred to the newspaper, which she had folded to the relevant page. ‘It begins innocently enough. The writer wishes Sir Adam a speedy recovery “from the unfortunate illness which has caused the family to cancel all engagements”. But it continues: “However, they will surely be distressed by reports that the widow of the late Mr G—R—was seen in Devonshire recently, in the company of the new Earl of W—and posing as his wife.” It’s what we anticipated, but the audacity of it!’ She broke off, her cheeks pink with indignation. ‘It goes on to say that the Earl has made no comment on the reports.’
‘What can he say,’ whispered Arabella, ‘other than admit it is true? He must hate me for dragging his name into the gutter. And yours, too. Oh, ma’am, I am so very sorry to have brought this upon you.’
‘I am sure you are,’ came the brisk reply. ‘But there is nothing to be done about that now. We must make the best of it. I would like to take you back to Lincolnshire immediately, but I cannot leave Sir Adam, and I will not allow you to go alone.’
‘When do you think he will be well enough to travel?’
‘Doctor Locke is calling here again tomorrow, so perhaps we shall know better then. In the meantime, we shall deny all visitors save Sir Adam’s closest friends, those who can be relied upon to support him.’ She managed a smile. ‘Do not look so downhearted, Arabella. We shall get through this.’
‘Thank you, ma’am.’ Arabella blinked rapidly. ‘I do not deserve such kindness.’
‘Nonsense. You have always been like a daughter to us. The daughter we never had. We shall not abandon you.’
Lady Roffey kissed her cheek and went out, leaving her feeling even more unworthy of such kindness.
* * *
Arabella was crossing the landing the following day just as Dr Locke left Sir Adam’s room. Lady Roffey was with him, but when she saw her daughter-in-law, she called to her.
‘Arabella, would you be so good as to see Dr Locke out, my dear? I should like to stay with my husband. He is a little fractious this morning.’
The doctor laughed. ‘That is because I have told him I will not countenance his travelling for another sennight at least.’ He held out his hand. ‘Good day to you, Lady Roffey. Send for me if you need me. If I do not hear from you, I shall call again in a week.’
He accompanied Arabella down the stairs, chatting amicably. She was heartened to perceive that he was a sensible man with a cheerful air and he soon put her at her ease.
‘And you are young Roffey’s widow,’ he said. ‘I have heard a great deal about you, ma’am.’
Arabella’s step faltered. Was her perfidy already so widely known in town?
‘Oh, f-from whom?’ she managed to ask.
‘Your late husband, of course. The family has
always come to me, when they are in town, which is why I am surprised we have not met before.’ He chuckled as they continued down the stairs. ‘Pray do not think I shall be offended if you tell me you employ the services of another practitioner when you are in town, madam. There is more than enough business for all of us! Most likely you are attended by Dr Archer. I believe many of the younger married ladies call on him.’
‘No, I am not attended by any doctor.’ She managed a faint smile. ‘I have never visited London before and I am in excellent health.’
‘Are you indeed?’ He looked a little surprised, then said gravely, ‘I heard of your husband’s death, ma’am. A sad business, to be taken so young. Please accept my condolences.’
They had reached the door. Arabella waited while he collected his hat and gloves from the footman, and when he stepped out of the door, she followed him.
‘You say my husband spoke of me,’ she said quickly. ‘Do I take it you treated him, shortly before he died?’
Dr Locke paused on the flagway. ‘Aye, ma’am, I did. I saw him quite frequently, whenever he was in town. The last time would have been, let me see, April. Yes, about a year ago.’
‘Just before our marriage.’
‘Yes. Roffey told me he was about to take a bride.’ He nodded. ‘He told me you had remained in Lincolnshire, preferring the country to the town, which most likely explains your good health, ma’am. I hope it continues that way for a long time to come!’ He smiled, touched his hat and strode away along the street, leaving Arabella staring after him.
She made her way to the little office, deep in thought. Closing the door, she looked at the leather-bound books lined up on a shelf. Household accounts going back decades. She reached for one. Not the ledger currently in use, but the one beside it, which detailed every transaction for the previous year. There was a small fire burning, so she pulled a chair close and sat down with the book on her knees. Slowly she began to turn the pages.
It did not take her long to find what she was looking for. Entries made last spring, when George had been in town. Among the payments for candles, salt and wine were several to the apothecary. She read the entries again, carefully, then closed the book and returned it to the shelf.
His Countess for a Week Page 19
