She came to a decision. ‘Mama, I’m going to see Lady Blythe. She may know more than us.’
‘No!’ Galvanised by these words, her mother sat bolt upright. ‘We cannot allow this news to be made public.’
‘It won’t be. Lady Blythe will be just as eager as us to hush things up. Together she and I may be able to put together a rescue plan.’
‘Rescue? How can you rescue them? Benedict left the house before dawn. They could be anywhere by now.’
‘We have the advantage of knowing where they’re headed. If we could reach them within the next few hours, nobody except ourselves need know a thing.’
Particularly Richard, she thought. For his sake, if for no one else’s, she must do her utmost to rescue Domino from this foolish journey.
‘And who is to follow them?’ her mother was saying querulously. ‘Your father is hundreds of miles away in Cornwall and you have managed to alienate the fiance who might have lent us his support.’
Before her mother could renew this still-raw grievance, she rang for Lady Harriet’s dresser.
‘Her ladyship is feeling unwell, Mitford. She needs to rest. Could you ensure that she is made comfortable and then bring her some sweet tea?’
Once her mother had been safely despatched to her room, Christabel donned her bonnet and walked swiftly to Curzon Street. She had dismissed her mother’s suggestion that Benedict had eloped because of money troubles, but the thought that he might have become seriously infatuated with Domino could not be so easily lost. It was true that he had hitherto shown little interest in women, but she could not deny that he had been dancing attendance on the young girl in recent weeks in a way that was quite foreign to him. What if Domino returned his feelings? Where would that leave Richard? Her heart ached for him that he should be treated so shabbily by the two women he had asked to marry.
The moment she was ushered into Lady Blythe’s presence, she saw that the older woman, too, had received an unwelcome missive. Her face was unnaturally pale and she seemed to have difficulty rising from her seat. She came towards her fair young visitor and offered an unsteady hand. Once they were alone, she silently passed a single sheet of paper to Christabel. The note her niece had left proved much longer and far more informative than Benedict’s. The errant pair, it appeared, were on their way to Dover and from there they hoped to take a boat across the Channel and make their way to Paris. Domino was sorry to upset her aunt who had been so kind to her, but the situation in London had become intolerable and she had to escape. Benedict was to escort her on her journey to the French capital so her aunt must not worry!
‘Miss Tallis, what are we to do?’ Lady Blythe questioned in a broken voice as Christabel finished reading the note. Her hands moved restlessly in her lap. ‘I had no idea, no idea.’
‘No idea of what, Lady Blythe?’
‘That Domino was in love with your brother, of course.’
‘She does not say that in her message,’ Christabel cautioned.
‘Not in so many words, but why else would she have embarked on this scandalous journey with him? I should never have allowed them to ride together with only a groom as chaperon.’
‘She says that her life here has become intolerable. Have you any idea what she might mean, ma’am?’
‘I can only imagine that she has been carrying on this clandestine relationship for some time and has become frustrated with the secrecy involved. She knows well that her father would never agree to such a match, but if she had only confided in me…’ Loretta Blythe blinked back the tears. ‘We have all been seventeen and convinced that our romance would last for ever.’
Christabel scrutinised the letter again. It was hardly a message from someone about to elope with the love of her life: no impassioned declarations, no pages blotched by tears. On the other hand, the intolerable situation in London sounded ominous. Could that be, as Lady Blythe surmised, her love for Benedict, which she was unable to acknowledge?
She looked at the older woman, sunk deep in her chair, an expression of quiet despair on her face, the mirror image of her own mother, and cursed Benedict. Someone had to try to put things right, restore their peace of mind and ensure that Richard never discovered this new injury to his name. It would have to be her—there was no one else.
The decision made, she rose briskly from her chair. ‘Please don’t upset yourself, ma’am, the situation is not irretrievable. We know where they’ve gone and when they left. It should be possible to catch them before they can board a packet to Calais. Fortunately the weather has turned inclement and sailings are bound to be disrupted. We have a very real chance, you know, of finding them still waiting on the quay side.’
‘We? But who can go? My health is not as good as it used to be, my dear. I cannot possibly contemplate such a journey. And Domino’s father is thousands of miles across the sea.’
At the thought of Alfredo and what he would say at this latest turn of events, her face lost even the little colour it still possessed and she plunged her head in her hands, weeping copiously.
Christabel thought it prudent to take her leave at this juncture. ‘I will go,’ she said quietly. ‘I’ll be away a day or so, I dare say, but I hope to have good news for you when I return.’
Her companion looked up wonderingly, ‘You cannot possibly go yourself! My dear, think of it, you cannot travel alone, without an escort.’
‘I’ll take my groom. Stebbings has been with our family all my life and is completely trustworthy.’
‘A servant?’
Christabel was by now losing patience. ‘If you can think of someone else who could undertake this mission, then please tell me. Otherwise I’ll do what I’m able.’
The older woman’s voice quavered, ‘Lord Veryan? I was wondering whether we might venture to call on Lord Veryan’s help. What do you think?’
But before her visitor could reply, the slight glimmer of hope had faded from her face. ‘But, no, I recollect now, he is on his way to Cornwall, I believe.’
Christabel had reached the door and turned in surprise, ‘Surely he would be the last person you would want to know about this escapade,’ she murmured as she slipped out of the room, leaving behind her a puzzled woman.
Once back in Mount Street, she hastily threw a few overnight essentials into a small valise and gave orders for the travelling carriage to be brought round to the front of the house as soon as possible. While she waited, tracing and retracing her steps in the hall, her mother emerged unexpectedly from the drawing room. She’d imagined Lady Tallis to be laid down on her bed and had left a brief message of explanation with Mitford. She’d hoped to avoid the confrontation that now looked likely.
‘Why are you dressed for travelling, Bel?’ was Lady Harriet’s immediate question.
She decided to meet trouble head on and said straitly, ‘I’m going to Dover. Benedict and Domino are headed to that port, prior to crossing to France. I think if I leave now I may be able to catch them before they embark.’
‘To Dover? On your own? You cannot do such a thing!’ Her mother’s shocked face was testament to the serious impropriety of her plan.
‘I’m sorry if it distresses you, Mama, but I can and I must.’
‘But why? What good will it do other than besmirch your name even further!’
‘The weather has been stormy since they left and it’s more than likely they’ll be delayed. I’m hopeful that I’ll be able to prevent them leaving England.’
‘And if you do not, is it your intention to continue this insane pursuit across the Continent?’
She allowed herself a small smile at the image her mother had conjured, but said as soothingly as she could, ‘If they’ve already sailed, then I will return immediately, you have my word.’
Still plainly very agitated, her mother tried another tack. ‘But you will never get to Dover and back in a day.’
She indicated the valise at her feet. ‘As you see, I’m prepared.’
Lady Harriet’s
face registered even greater shock at such brazen conduct and her daughter was forced to redouble her persuasion.
‘If we must stay the night at Dover, it’s surely better that I accompany Domino.’ She looked directly into her mother’s troubled eyes. ‘As you’ve already pointed out, Mama, I’m now beyond any consideration of marriage so what better role to assume than that of chaperon.’
‘Why are you doing this, Christabel?’
‘I’ve just explained.’
‘But not very convincingly. Your chance of success is slight. The packet boats sail in all kinds of atrocious weather, as you must know, and you will be stranded in Dover—a young woman, putting up in an inn alone—and for what precisely?’
‘I have at least to try to undo the harm that has been done.’ She looked steadily at her mother. ‘If Domino continues with this journey, it will be because of my brother’s thoughtlessness in aiding her. It will ruin her reputation and make it impossible for her to marry where she wishes.’
‘But surely she wishes to marry Benedict?’
‘I don’t think so. Benedict is her escort. He may be in love with her, although I doubt it, but she is in love with Richard Veryan.’
Her mother paused. This certainly accorded with other gossip she had heard. It was more than likely, but why was Bel becoming so involved? Out loud she repeated, ‘Richard?’
‘I believe they are to make a match of it. No doubt he is waiting until the year’s mourning is over before making an official announcement, but I think it clear that they plan to be together. I imagine some silly quarrel must have sprung up between them and would have petered out to nothing if Benedict had not become embroiled.’
Her mother remained silent, still wondering at the intensity of her daughter’s concern.
‘You must see that I owe it to Richard,’ Christabel broke out. ‘We have been an unlucky family for him: I broke his first engagement and now Benedict will be responsible for destroying the second. Unless, that is, I do something now and attempt to rescue Domino from her own foolishness.’
‘You owe nothing to Richard Veryan, Bel,’ her mother said quietly. ‘Yes, you broke the engagement and no doubt it was very painful for him, but you have long expiated that sin. And after his behaviour last night, it is he who is in debt to you.’
‘That’s not so.’
‘I think it is. He has cost you your betrothal; more than that, he has made quite sure that you will have little chance of any future marriage. I would say that his flagrant disregard of any acceptable code of conduct has more than balanced the books.’
‘I have to help him, Mama.’
‘He has ruined you, Bel!’
‘I have ruined myself. I tried to follow a path which wasn’t mine. For a while I convinced myself that I was doing the right thing, but all the time I was being untrue to the person I really am.’
‘You will have plenty of time now to be true to yourself,’ her mother remarked tartly, ‘and while you’re doing that you can enjoy watching your sister snare Sir Julian for herself.’
It was past one o’clock before the carriage arrived at the front door and Christabel was able to begin the journey to Dover. It would take at least seven hours to reach the town and she made herself as comfortable as she could, nestling into the velvet seat coverings and pulling a cashmere blanket over her legs to shield her from draughts. Outside on the box, his face disapproving, Stebbings set the horses in motion. He had promised Lady Tallis that he would not leave Miss Christabel’s side until they were back in Mount Street and this he was grimly determined to do.
They were soon rumbling over Blackfriars Bridge, its elegant Portland stone glinting in the afternoon sunlight. Immediately south of the river paved roads gave way to dirt tracks with cramped and ramshackle buildings huddled on either side. Vast numbers of the poor were crowded into these tenements and everywhere squalor and despair disclosed a very different London to the one Christabel knew. Garbage was strewn at random and open tidal sewers dotted the landscape. She felt a guilty relief once the carriage had left behind these desperate areas and was trundling through the quieter suburbs where market gardening and pasturage for cows still interspersed the dark of London’s brick.
It was two hours into their journey before at last they reached the Kent countryside. A panorama of fields and trees passed lazily by and Christabel had ample leisure to think. The more she considered the matter, the more she found it difficult to believe this was an elopement. Benedict’s demeanour had never approached that of a lover and Domino had treated him in the same carefree fashion. It was clear that Domino was the moving force behind this crazy journey. Could she have quarrelled with Richard over some trifle—perchance he’d not been giving her the attention she expected—and decided that running away was a means of teaching him a lesson? She was young enough and foolish enough.
The continual shaking and jolting of the carriage felt to Christabel as though she had been travelling for months rather than hours. After the recent spate of bad weather, the road was potholed and dangerous, with immense muddy banks on either side, and in some places reducing almost to a track. Unable to sleep, she made plans for when they reached Dover.
As long as the delinquents were still in the town, she would find them. She must convince Domino that any fears she had over Richard’s indifference were groundless and that if this flight was indeed a stupid gamble to regain his interest, the girl was in grave danger of losing him. He would never allow himself to be mired once again in a scandal not of his making. She would do what she could to bring an end to this reckless journey and protect Richard from any knowledge of it.
This cheerful thought had relaxed her a little and she was at last able to fall into a fitful doze as the coach slowly made its cumbersome way towards the Channel coast. She did not awake fully until she felt the horses moving sharply downhill. Leaning forwards to peer through the window, she could see in the distance a strip of water streaking the horizon. They were descending a steep and winding hill leading to the town and gradually houses began to spring up on either side of the road and the gradient to even out. She would bespeak a room at the Ship Inn, which she knew to be the best hostelry in Dover, her father having stayed there when he made the Grand Tour as a young man. Once settled, Stebbings could make discreet enquiries of the smaller establishments. Hopefully it would not take too long to run them to ground since Dover was not a large town.
The wind had hardly abated from the time they left London, but here on the coast it blew with an added ferocity. As the carriage swung around the last corner and reached the promenade, she got her first clear view of the sea. A sheet of gunmetal water heaved and tossed alarmingly, foaming white flecks of waves splintering the grey. Even from some distance she could hear the thunder of surf crashing against the harbour wall, spray after spray of icy water breaching the top of the wharf ready to drench anyone foolish enough to be walking on this stormy May evening. Her heart warmed; surely no one would put to sea in such weather. She lowered the carriage window and her hat was almost snatched from her head. The titian curls blew wildly in the wind as she attempted to give her groom directions.
‘Stebbings,’ she had to shout to make herself heard, ‘please make for the Ship Inn. I hope to bespeak a room there.’
‘That’s where I was going,’ he replied grimly. ‘Nowhere else suitable for you, Miss Christabel, though heaven knows it’s a bad day when a young lady has to venture alone to any inn.’
He left her shortly afterwards to find lodgings for himself in the cheaper part of town, but promised that once this was accomplished he would begin immediately to make a round of the smaller hotels and guest houses that lined the promenade and the streets behind. It was probable that if the runaways were still in Dover, they would be discovered in one of these. And so it proved.
Within an hour of arriving in the town, she was entering the tap room of the Pelican and encountering two pairs of startled eyes.
‘Miss Tallis!�
��
Domino had been sitting by the window, gloomily watching the tossing waters, but at Christabel’s entrance she sprang from her chair and stood like a statue, a stricken expression on her face. Benedict, too, had jumped to his feet, advancing on his sister impetuously.
‘Bel! What on earth are you doing here?’
‘Good evening, Benedict. I would think that question better belongs to me.’
She glanced around her at the soiled furnishings of the dismal room, her eyebrows raised and a quizzical look on her face.
‘So what are you both doing here?’
Domino found her voice. ‘I’m on my way to Paris,’ she said tremulously, ‘and Benedict is escorting me.’
‘Escorting you?’
‘There was no one else I could ask.’ Domino’s shoulders drooped in despair guessing that this sudden intrusion by Benedict’s sister might mean the end of her plans.
Her escort scowled at her words. ‘Thanks,’ he said indignantly, ‘and after all I’ve done—planning your escape, paying for the carriage, finding us somewhere to shelter!’
‘I don’t mean I’m not grateful to you, Benedict, just that you were my last resort.’
‘Thanks again.’ His face was red with annoyance.
It was evident that both parties to this escapade were so tightly wound that they needed only a small excuse to explode. It would be wise to intervene while she was still likely to get a sensible answer.
‘So you’re not eloping?’
Both of them looked astounded for an instant and then both burst into laughter. It broke the tension of the moment.
‘Miss Tallis, how could you think such a thing?’
The Earl Plays With Fire Page 16
