The Earl Plays With Fire

by Isabelle Goddard

  A few days later Christabel was sitting alone in the drawing room at Mount Street. Her mother and Sophia were busy paying afternoon calls prior to the family’s departure, and she had left her maidservant in the bedroom above, packing up her London wardrobe. Earlier she’d tried to decide on which gowns to take with her to Rosings and which would need to be sent directly to Cornwall, but eventually had left it to Rosa to choose, saying she had a headache. She seemed to be using that excuse frequently of late, but hardly cared if she were believed or not. She wasn’t agreeable company for anyone, even herself. Since coming downstairs she’d tried reading one of the marble-backed books from the circulating library, so beloved of Sophia, but its silly plot sickened her. She’d picked up her long-discarded needlework, but it made her eyes ache. She thought she might write to an old friend in Cornwall—she’d been meaning to for an age—but what could she say that would come anywhere near the truth of her life.

  For probably the fourth time that hour she wandered over to the drawing-room window, but this time saw with surprise a liveried servant mounting the front steps. In a moment James had knocked and entered the room bearing a crisp, white note on a silver salver. As she took the paper from the tray, she glanced at the signature at its foot; the letter was from Domino de Silva. How strange. With some curiosity she began to read the unexpected message:

  Dear Miss Tallis,

  I did not want to leave London without saying goodbye or thanking you once more for all your efforts on my behalf. You have been a good friend to me and I hope you will forgive my decision to leave. I find I cannot bear to remain in London a moment longer. My aunt has behaved very properly and on my behalf has settled the debts I incurred. For that I am grateful. But as I told you the other evening she now keeps me so confined that life has become insupportable. I am desperate to travel to Spain on my own for the reasons I mentioned and have decided to set out again for Paris and ask my father’s friends for help to finish the journey to Madrid. This time, though, I am determined to leave England on my own. I still feel very badly that I caused so much trouble for your brother. By the time you read this, I shall be on my way. Please forgive me for not coming to see you at this time, but remember me instead with affection.

  Yours ever, Domino

  She stared at the sheet of paper for minutes on end, hardly able to comprehend the words she’d read. Since her conversation with Domino at the theatre, a worry had been niggling at the back of her mind that the girl might do something foolish, but she’d come to the conclusion that she was fretting unnecessarily. It was more than likely that Domino had been involved in a minor altercation with her aunt that evening and was magnifying the difficulties between them. But now this! It hardly seemed credible that the girl had fled again and this time completely alone. Without even Benedict’s protection, she was exposed to all the hazards facing a beautiful and wealthy young woman on a long, solitary journey. She shivered in fear for her.

  This time, too, there was no indication of when the girl had left London or the port she was making for. It was unlikely that she would choose to travel to Dover again for fear of being discovered, but there were any number of small ports dotted along the Channel coast and searching for her would be near impossible. The last rescue had been difficult enough when she’d known where the runaways were headed and when she’d had the faithful Stebbings to drive her.

  It was a desperate situation, yet she could not let the girl disappear into a world of unknown danger. She must make some attempt to save her from her own folly. But she would need help and who could she turn to? Certainly not Lady Blythe. She would be even angrier with her niece than before. No, Domino must be found and brought back before her aunt got wind of her disappearance. Sir Julian would assist if she asked him, but he was caught up in a whirl of wedding preparations and would be shocked to the core by the girl’s conduct. The image of Richard swam into her mind and was immediately dismissed. But not for long. His name persisted in her thoughts. He’d said just a few days ago that he had no interest in Domino, but it was undeniable that he’d been close to her, accompanying her on the long journey from Buenos Aires, escorting her about town in her aunt’s stead. And Domino trusted him. Even if she were no longer in the first throes of infatuation, she must still count him as a friend. If anyone could run her to ground and influence her to return, it would be him. He would know what to do, what and who to ask, and he would be able to ride to the rescue across country if necessary, travelling far more swiftly than any carriage. She must put aside her own feelings and seek him out immediately.

  Casting social propriety adrift, she threw on a silk pelisse, slipped out of the house and walked swiftly to the end of Mount Street. With luck an empty hansom cab was passing the end of the road and she hailed it immediately. She had no idea of the fare, but the jarvey seemed content with the few coins she had in her reticule.

  Only thirty minutes had passed from Domino’s message being delivered until Christabel stood on the top step of the Grosvenor Square mansion and pulled at the bell.

  The footman’s stare made her realise how imprudent she was in calling on a single gentleman alone, without even a maidservant as company. Discomforted by his obvious astonishment, she assumed a haughty air and commanded him to find his master immediately. The curt tone had its effect and in a moment he had shown her into the drawing room and disappeared to find Lord Veryan.

  She walked nervously up and down the room she knew so well. Signs of neglect were everywhere for the house had remained unloved for too long. The blue brocade curtains had faded in the sun and the deeper-blue velvet chairs exhibited bare patches here and there, but it was sparkling clean and a large Venetian glass vase full of sweet-smelling roses and lilies from the garden gave the room a welcoming fragrance. The minutes ticked by and she began to fear that Richard was not at home, or that he’d decided to punish her further with a protracted wait in a room which held such bad memories. Her face flushed with the shame of remembrance and she was almost ready to flee when his tall, athletic figure strode into the room. His elegance proclaimed him every inch a gentleman, but one who could be trusted to take action.

  Warm grey eyes searched hers intently, but his face betrayed none of the surprise he felt.

  ‘Miss Tallis, how kind of you to call,’ he said smoothly, as the door shut behind the footman.

  Once on their own, he moved swiftly towards her, taking her hands in his and studying her troubled face with concern.

  ‘Christy, what is it? What’s happened?’

  Her eyes filled with unbidden tears. Already she had the sense of a burden being lifted from her shoulders in the presence of this strong and capable man—she had been right to come. Mutely she proffered Domino’s letter.

  He scanned the sheet of paper quickly, but apart from a puzzled expression on his face, there was no other reaction. Doesn’t he understand what has happened? she thought; surely he cannot be so unfeeling that he intends to ignore the letter.

  ‘If you have any kindness for the child,’ she broke out in an agitated voice, ‘please help me to find her and bring her back.’

  He read through the missive again, this time more slowly, and the puzzlement was replaced by a wry smile.

  ‘I realise that I should not be here or be asking for your aid after all that has passed between us,’ she began again, her voice brittle, ‘but will you not help?’

  ‘Why ask me, Christabel?’ he asked quietly.

  ‘You know Domino well, you have the power to influence her and…’ her voice was hardly audible ‘…you are the only person I can trust in this difficult matter.’

  Again he took her hands into his strong clasp and looked intently down at her.

  ‘The word “trust” fills me with hope.’

  ‘Richard!’ She snatched away her hands. ‘This is urgent. I don’t know when Domino left or which port she’s making for. She may have half a day’s start.’

  He gently stroked her cheek with his hand.
‘Stay calm, my darling girl, all is well.’

  ‘I don’t understand. And I am not your darling girl! You forget yourself.’

  ‘And you forgot yourself in coming here to seek my aid. I imagine that’s exactly what Domino hoped would happen.’

  She was stunned into silence, thoroughly bewildered by his words.

  ‘Come with me,’ he said gently, and she allowed him to lead her by the hand into the adjoining garden room with its tall windows looking out on to a wide expanse of lawn. Beneath the shade of the trees a table was set with a white linen tablecloth and the pretty flowered cups that Christabel remembered well.

  Domino and her aunt, looking happy and relaxed, sat chatting and sipping their tea.

  She whirled around. ‘But I don’t understand!’ she repeated.

  ‘A hoax, I fear, but one with the very best of intentions.’

  ‘You mean that this letter is false. But why? Why would she wish to upset me so?’

  ‘I’m sure she didn’t mean to disturb you this badly. She’s very young and not always mindful of the consequences of her actions. But I think I know why she decided on this ruse. After we parted the other day I met her driving in Regent’s Park. I was thoroughly downcast and confided to her something of our conversation; I told her that you had lost all faith in me. She must have set out to prove to you that that was untrue, that you still trusted me despite all my attempts at sabotage.’

  ‘But why would she do such a thing?’

  ‘Because she knows how I feel about you. She’s always known, even before I realised the truth myself. And she guesses that you feel the same about me. She wants us both to be happy—together.’

  She pushed the thought away and instead returned to Domino’s deception.

  ‘I really believed she was in danger and was badly frightened for her, quite unnecessarily as it turns out. I don’t know what to say.’

  ‘Forgive her, Christy, she’s brought us together.’ He moved closer to her and she felt his breath on her cheek.

  When she remained silent, he said with force, ‘Well, hasn’t she? My darling, say she has!’ And with one swift movement he pulled her into his arms and held her to his heart.

  She struggled to disentangle herself. Things were moving far too rapidly. She had to think and her mind was dazed.

  ‘I’m naturally relieved that Domino is safe,’ she said carefully, ‘though I cannot think her actions anything but thoughtless. Her plan to bring us together was misguided and ill advised.’

  ‘But you’re here,’ he pointed out, the shadow of a smile flitting across his face.

  ‘I came to seek your help, not to reaffirm my trust in you.’

  ‘But isn’t that just what you’re doing? Why didn’t you go elsewhere, why come to me?’

  ‘Because you are a capable man and you know Domino well,’ she answered awkwardly.

  ‘They are superficial reasons. You came to me because you know in the deepest recesses of your heart that I am the one person in the world who is here for you—and always will be.’

  He was right. Until her foolish disloyalty had so decisively severed them, he had been her refuge, the rock which had anchored her to the world. But did she still believe that? She wanted to, desperately, but she couldn’t be sure.

  ‘And Domino, what of her?’ she questioned, eager to change the subject.

  ‘Does she seem to you to have suffered unduly?’

  Domino’s laugh was ringing out across the lawn. A wasp had evidently interrupted the tea party and she was dancing this way and that to escape its attentions. Richard looked away from this little drama and smiled again.

  ‘Domino and I are the best of friends, but that’s all. I hope you can see that.’

  Even if she could, Richard remained the cold man who had plotted so adroitly against her. Knowing what he’d done, could she ever really trust him, ever really forgive him?

  ‘Find it in your heart to forgive me,’ he pleaded, knowing her thoughts. ‘I was shocked when I saw you again, shocked at the way you made me feel. I was wounded and I wanted to escape the hurt which came crashing back at me. I lashed out with this stupid intrigue to prove to myself that you weren’t worth the pain.’

  But he had failed, she told herself. He might have plotted, but he hadn’t been able to go through with it. She thought back to the picnic and the way that he’d looked at her by the lakeside, unable to bear her unhappiness. His campaign had hardly started before he’d abandoned it. Surely it was possible to forgive him.

  He was looking fixedly at her, watching her every fleeting expression. Quite suddenly he reached out for her hand.

  ‘Marry me!’

  ‘You don’t have to offer me marriage,’ she said defiantly. ‘I know that you feel you’ve disgraced me, destroyed my chances. But you haven’t. If I stay single, I shall have no regrets.’ She almost choked on the brazen lie.

  ‘But I shall! Darling Christy, I love you. I’ve always loved you. I’ve never stopped loving you. And that love is not going away. And neither am I!’

  And once more he seized her in a crushing embrace.

  ‘I don’t know what to say,’ she repeated stupidly, her mind still blurred, but her body swiftly coming to life.

  ‘Then say nothing.’

  He gently nuzzled her face and buried his hands in the disordered mass of red curls.

  She began to murmur, but he stifled her protest. ‘There is nothing more to say. Everything is decided!’ and tipping her face he brought his mouth down hard on hers, urgent and demanding.

  A throbbing ache of pleasure shot through her body. Her lips sought his with all the hunger that had built up over days of longing. She was inundated by wave after wave of love, coursing through every small part of her, its power at last sweeping away the iron bonds of fear that had held her captive.

  She sighed her surrender. Richard was right, everything was decided!

  Epilogue

  It was a perfect August evening when they met on a headland stippled with flaming yellow furze and strolled lazily down the rocky path towards their cove. The languorous air of what had been a hot summer day bathed them in its warm caress. A gentle breeze was blowing now, signalling the turning of the tide, but it barely lifted the leaves of the tall hedgerows on either side of the lane. The scent of dog roses and meadow-sweet was everywhere, enveloping them in a cloud of heady perfume. In the distance the surf rolled itself lazily against the rocks, the noise echoing back towards them and gradually growing more thunderous as they made their way downhill towards the beach.

  ‘I thought you might not escape this evening.’ He smiled down at the carefree girl who meandered beside him.

  Christabel wore the lightest of muslin dresses, almost a shift, her long limbs moving easily in the simple garment. Her hair flowed free, the auburn curls moving in the breeze and flaming in the last rays of the sun. Her smile was luminous. She looked no older than the girl he had fallen in love with so long ago.

  ‘Mama is still fretting.’ She grinned. ‘She’s written and rewritten every one of her lists, but she’s convinced herself that something is bound to go awry.’

  ‘So why aren’t you there, fanning her fevered brow?’

  ‘I’ll have you know that I’ve worked very hard at being daughterly all day. And don’t think I didn’t notice your quick exit as soon as the rehearsal was over! When Mama began to wrinkle her brow and tap her pencil again, it was clearly time to slip away.’

  ‘So you’re not here for the pleasure of my company after all?’ he teased.

  ‘What do you think has kept me going all day?’ She reached up and kissed the tanned cheek he bent towards her.

  ‘That’s much better, a little appreciation is in order!’

  Hand in hand they walked in companionable silence towards the sea and the setting sun. Words were often unnecessary between them.

  When he spoke again, his tone was pensive. ‘I can hardly believe that tomorrow—finally—we will be man
and wife.’

  ‘If we hadn’t observed the year’s mourning, we would have offended too many people, Richard. And the day has come at last.’

  ‘Not soon enough for me,’ he protested, hugging her close to him. ‘These last twelve months since your sister’s strange marriage have seemed interminable.’

  ‘Not so strange after all. By all accounts she and Julian are making a success of married life.’

  He shook his head disbelievingly. ‘Sophia is the queen of triviality and he’s such a…’ and he struggled to find a word that would not upset his beloved ‘…a serious person.’

  ‘Admit it, you were longing to say a stuffed shirt. He’s a good man and works very hard for his charitable projects.’

  ‘That’s what I meant.’ He laughed, unrepentant. ‘But how he ever thought you would make him a suitable wife!’

  ‘An illusion, I fear. His relationship with Sophia is far more down to earth and that’s why it works so well. He really didn’t know me.’

  ‘Just dazzled by the exterior, eh? And what an exterior!’ He stroked her arm softly and then slipped his own around her waist, pulling her into him as they walked.

  ‘Richard, be careful, someone may come by.’

  ‘They won’t—dusk is falling, and do I care if I’m seen embracing the woman I love? No, I don’t think I do.’

  ‘You should. You are the lord of Madron and must set an example to your tenants.’

  ‘I’m setting an example to every red-blooded man, not just in Madron but the whole of Cornwall, by marrying the most beautiful, the most exciting, the most enchanting woman in the world.’

  They rounded the last bend in the lane at that moment and the noise of the ocean, which had gradually been growing louder, burst fully on their ears.