The Riddle of the Reluctant Rake

by Patricia Veryan

  Having admitted this unorthodox caller to the front hall of his employer’s house, the elderly butler’s hand lingered on the door-latch. “I’ve—er—that is to say, I wonder if there is some mistake, my lady? This is the residence of General Sir Gower Chatteris, and he did not say he was expecting a—er, visitor.”

  Lady Abigail shook out her umbrella and as the butler moved out of range, said, “What you mean is that a lady don’t call on a gentleman unaccompanied, unexpected and after dark. Well, I am a lady, and I am unaccompanied and unexpected, and whether it be dawn or dusk is all one to me. Take this”—she thrust the dripping umbrella at him—“and give him my card. At once!”

  “But—but he is at his dinner, ma’am.”

  “Better and better. With luck I’ll give him a fine case of indigestion. Go on, go on! Don’t just stand there chewing your teeth!”

  “Yes, milady. I mean—no, milady. I’ll take your card up and tell the master you wish to see him.” He started off, only to reel to a halt as his coat-tails were seized and tugged violently while his name was demanded.

  Affronted, he said icily, “It is Polebrook, madam.”

  “Well, Polebrook, you will do no such thing,” barked Lady Abigail. “What you will do is tell Sir Gower that I insist on seeing him, and if he keeps me waiting above five minutes I shall come up. Screaming!”

  “Goodness gracious me,” muttered the unhappy butler, making his rheumaticky way up the sweep of the grand staircase. “Whatever next!”

  His employer was less timid. “Insists on seeing me?” he roared. “Devil take the woman! Didn’t you tell her I was dining?”

  “I did, sir. But—but she is most—forceful.”

  “Then force her out! I don’t know any Lady Prior…” The General paused, scanned the card through his quizzing glass, and grunted. “I take it the woman is that poor child’s mama. Well, I’ve no wish to have her weeping on my shoulder. Send her away, Polebrook. Tell her I’ve dinner guests. Now why in Hades do you show me that Friday face?”

  “The lady is—is quite elderly, sir. And—and she said if we kept her waiting above five minutes—”

  Polebrook was interrupted by a piercing shriek.

  “Good God!” exclaimed General Chatteris, leaping to his feet.

  “—she would come up—screaming,” finished the butler.

  The door burst open. In full scream, Lady Abigail stamped into the dining room. “On second thoughts, I’ll keep this,” she said, snatching her umbrella from Polebrook’s hand.

  The General bowed stiffly and said at his most crushing, “I believe I have not the pleasure of your acquaintance, madam, but—”

  Lady Abigail advanced, her umbrella scattering raindrops as she levelled it across the table at the old soldier. “Don’t remember me, do you, Gower Chatteris?” she snapped. “Well, I remember you, and that Midsummer’s Eve under your father’s apple tree! Well you may blush, sir! And I will tell you without equivocation that had I dreamed you would turn into a stiff-rumped, high-in-the-instep, hard-hearted old curmudgeon, you’d have collected a boxed ear instead of the kiss you stole! Now sit down, Sir Gower, while I tell you something about yourself!”

  Scarlet and speechless, the General, who had jellied the knees of countless junior officers, collapsed into the chair.

  The butler tottered away and left them together. Before he was half-way down the stairs, however, he was giggling uncontrollably. It was, in fact, a full minute before he could command his voice sufficiently to advise the various members of the household staff, who had gathered apprehensively in the hall, that the lady had been frightened by a mouse.

  No one believed him, of course, as a result of which General Chatteris gained considerable stature—at least in the eyes of the male members of his staff.

  * * *

  In spite of a cold drizzle, Dale Hall, an enormous Curzon Street mansion, presented a brilliant picture when Adair arrived the following evening. Candle- and lamplight shone from the windows, and on each side of the wide front doors flambeaux blazed, reflecting on the wet flagway and lighting the faces of the curious who had gathered under umbrellas or pieces of oilcloth to watch the stream of arriving coaches. Lackeys held up large umbrellas to protect the guests on the brief journey from their carriages to the awning that had been erected across the pavement. Most of those arriving were already masked, and the onlookers shouted guesses at their identities, this lending an extra air of excitement to the occasion.

  Having arrived by hackney coach, which branded him a nobody, Adair gave his invitation to a footman whose hands were already full of similar cards. The man scarcely glanced at him, and he sauntered into the crowded entrance hall. He wore a plain black domino and York had purchased a large mask, trimmed with black ruffles that effectively concealed his brows and cheekbones. He had brushed his dark hair into the tumbled untidiness now popular. It was a departure from the neat military style he usually affected and he thought it made him appear younger, but he felt exposed and vulnerable and was enormously relieved when other guests glanced at him without recognition.

  The strains of one of the new waltzes drifted from the ballroom. He edged through the crowd and then paused, tensing, as a tall angular lady rapped his arm with her fan. Laughing, she said shrilly that she hoped she knew “Cam,” mask or no mask. She had taken him for Camille Damon, probably. A compliment, for the young Marquis, though something of a hermit who seldom went into Society, was said to be the handsomest man in the southland. Adair smiled and bowed, but walked on without speaking, paying no heed to her loud complaint that he might at least admit she was right.

  The dance floor was crowded with couples safely hidden behind their masks, attempting the daring and frowned-upon waltz. Adair strolled among the onlookers, searching unsuccessfully for a slender lady wearing a blue flower. Several girls who were not dancing eyed him hopefully. He was painfully reminded of the last time he’d rescued a lonely damsel from just such a predicament and of the nightmare results.

  A hand clamped onto his shoulder. His heart sprang up behind his teeth as he jerked around. A young man of average height, with light brown hair, a scar down one side of his brow, and eyes that shone a tawny gold behind his mask, gripped his hand and said in a low voice, “Are you quite demented? If you’re recognized here, there’ll be—”

  “The devil to pay,” finished Adair, as softly. “I know, Jack. But I had to come. And I’m glad you’re here so I can thank you for your hospitality.”

  Captain Jack Vespa, who had been one of Lord Wellington’s prized aides, led him aside. “I just saw Manderville. He tells me you’ve removed your notorious self from my house, which was as well, because a damned crusty major brought a troop to search for you this afternoon.”

  Adair stiffened. “Gad! Am I a wanted man, again? My apologies if you were embarrassed. I suppose they believe I’ve done away with poor Miss Prior?”

  “Be dashed if I know. I understand his lordship is vastly put out with you. He don’t like losing good officers, especially now.”

  Adair said drily, “Aside from that letter he writ to his brother, Wellington didn’t bestir himself to help me.”

  Ready as always to defend his General, Vespa pointed out, “You’re still alive. Who knows what he’s been ‘bestirring.’ Paige says you’re making progress and that you’ve formed a tendre for Cecily Hall. She’s a rare beauty.” A grin curved the fine mouth. “I’m glad you’ve turned your unwelcome attentions from my lady!”

  Adair chuckled. “I gave you a short run for your money, didn’t I? Is Consuela here tonight?”

  “If she were, I’d not tell you. But—to say truth, Hasty, she has been extreme anxious for you, and I know she holds you in her prayers.”

  “God bless her. Thank her for me, and—”

  A lady wearing a rich blue gown and with a blue flower in her fair curls danced by in the arms of a naval officer. Adair swore softly. “I’d like to know who gave that fellow the right to hold her
so close!”

  Vespa glanced around. “Is that the ‘heavenly Hall’? Trust her to flout convention by dancing the waltz in public. No, you really must not glare so murderously, my dear chap. I’m told that every bachelor in Town—and a great many men who are no longer bachelors—yearn to hold Miss Hall in just such a way. Now where are you going? Don’t be a fool! You can’t—”

  “Devil I can’t!” growled Adair and dodged his way through the dancers to tap the naval officer on the shoulder.

  “Be off with you, Mister Impertinence,” said the Navy, whirling his partner away. “You cannot cut in on the waltz!”

  Adair pursued them. “Your Admiral wants a word with you. He’s waiting by that potted palm.”

  The naval officer glanced where Adair indicated. “I don’t see—”

  “He’s stepped into the corridor. Best hasten, old man. He’s boiling about something!”

  “Oh, my!” Behind her lacy mask, Cecily’s eyes danced with laughter. “Do go, Monty. I’d not have you in his black books. I’ll try to save you a dance later. This gentleman may finish the waltz.”

  The Navy muttered angrily, but gave Adair a curt nod, then hurried off the floor.

  Adair gathered Cecily’s fragrant and willowy figure into his arm and smiled down at her as he guided her into the dance.

  “I think you told that nice lieutenant a fib,” she accused.

  “Another crime to be added to my infamies! But the end justifies the means.”

  “Does it?” She said, “Oh, you dance so well! But what a risk, to draw attention to yourself.”

  “I’d risk more than that for the pleasure of dancing with you.”

  She looked up and met his eyes. The crowded room and the guests faded and they were alone in a haze of contentment.

  After a timeless and blissful interval, Adair was startled to hear laughter.

  The music had stopped. Other couples were leaving the floor and watching them in amusement. There was a smattering of mocking applause.

  “Oh, Jupiter!” he gasped, drawing Cecily to a halt.

  Flushed with embarrassment, she tugged at his hand. “Not that way!”

  Her naval admirer was at the edge of the crowd. He looked furious and was obviously searching for them. Adair reached up quickly and snatched the blue flower from Cecily’s hair.

  She said, “Come. Hurry!”

  They blended with the chattering crowd and Cecily led the way into a wide corridor and thence to a passage along which were several ante-rooms. She chose one that was unoccupied and Adair started to close the door but paused to ask, “You permit?”

  She knew as well as he that this was most improper, but she nodded without comment and he closed the door.

  “Thank you,” he said, taking the hand she held out to him. “You are very good to have come. I didn’t know how else to meet you, but I’m afraid you run a risk by talking with me, so we must make this brief.”

  They sat side by side on a gold velvet sofa. The scent she wore was elusively intoxicating; the low-cut blue velvet gown clung revealingly to her superb figure. Adair had to fight the need to hold her again, to kiss that soft and vivid mouth.

  Cecily was accustomed to being admired, but his ardent gaze flustered her and she gave a nervous little ripple of laughter.

  He flushed. “I’m sorry. I said we must hasten and here I sit like a tongue-tied idiot. Very well, to business.” But the firelight was glinting on one little curl that clung to the edge of her mask. Watching it, knowing what he meant to ask her, he heard himself murmur instead, “You have glorious hair, Miss Hall.”

  “Thank you. If that is your way of being tongue-tied, I think you must be—”

  “Bewitched?” He looked at her steadily. “I am. No point in denying it, is there? Are you offended?”

  Her smile was faint but betrayed no sign of annoyance. “I rather gathered you had revised your first impression of me, now that I am no longer trying to shoot you.”

  “You levelled me without firing a shot. I am captive and—completely captivated.”

  She leaned closer and asked huskily, “So what do you mean to do about it, sir?”

  “What can I do? Even if I dared hope you feel the same, I am liable to arrest and deeper disgrace. How could any man ask a lady to share such a future?”

  “But when your name is cleared—as it will be—”

  He took up her hand again. “Thank you for your confidence. In that event, I would hopefully be reinstated and could offer you a name not tainted by desertion and murder.” He shrugged wryly. “But precious little else. Oh, I’m not a pauper. My maternal grandmama has promised me a very nice estate in Gloucestershire—provided I survive the war and do not bring disgrace on the family name. I have a competence that I judge comfortable, but it must appear insignificant when set against a great fortune. Besides which, I am very sure you are besieged by far more illustrious suitors than I.”

  She said carelessly, “Oh, yes. I am offered an even larger fortune than my own, or to become a countess, or even a marchioness, though with somewhat lesser fortunes.”

  It was no more than Rufus had implied, but his heart sank. She was beautiful, spirited, rich and intelligent; of course she would be admired and courted. He drew a deep breath and said with forced lightness, “And I am a sorry fool who had no right to speak as I did. Forgive, and tell me—”

  “About myself?” She said with wide-eyed innocence, “But of course, you know very little of my background. If you are really interested…?”

  “As well ask if I am interested in breathing! Start at the beginning. I picture you as a lovely little girl who—”

  “Who was very unhappy,” she interposed, the smile leaving her eyes. “I can scarce remember my father; he was killed in a great storm when I was not quite five years old. My mama was the angel in my life. Lovely, gentle, always kind. I adored her. She remarried a year after my father’s death. My stepfather already had three small daughters. He was extremely handsome. Tall and fair, a very informed mind, and cold as ice. I think he cared for Mama, insofar as he was capable of it. To me he was polite. He demanded respect and absolute obedience. Neither of which I granted him.”

  Adair found that he was still holding her hand, and he made no attempt to relinquish it. “Never say he was cruel to you?”

  “If you mean did he beat me—no. I’d not have minded that, for at least he would have shown an interest. He simply ignored me, and my stepsisters were just like him. I was kept away from Mama. I could scarce have been more isolated on a desert island. I know Mama grieved and wanted me by her. She was always frail and she died of an inflammation of the lungs two years later. Along with my stepfather’s children, I was put in the care of a new governess. She soon realized that I was not valued, and played her cards accordingly. Once again, I was the unwanted outsider.”

  Adair patted her hand. “Poor things, they were likely very jealous, for you must have been far more lovely than any of them.”

  “They were jealous, true, and lost no opportunity to sneer and make my life miserable. Still, I saw enough of the outside world to understand that I had very much to be thankful for, a beautiful home, servants, pretty clothes, and I certainly never went hungry. All I lacked was the kindness and affection I longed for. My grandmama rescued me, bless her. She is the only person I ever saw best my stepfather in an argument. One morning she came calling. I was sent for and she talked to me for a few minutes only, but it was enough. She and my stepfather went into his study. I heard their voices begin to rise. He had no chance, poor fellow. That afternoon Grandmama carried me off to Singletree. Alice and Rufus were waiting. For the first time since my dear mama died I was greeted with love.” She smiled mistily. “It was the—the happiest day I had known for years. I lived with them until my stepfather removed to our consulate in Denmark. Grandmama refused to allow me to go with him, and I doubt he cared except for appearance’s sake. Alice and I were sent to a Young Ladies’ Seminary for two ye
ars. Afterwards, being the elder, I was brought out first. I loved the busy social scene, whereas Alice was shy and really wanted no part of it. We have seen less of each other this past year or so, but I never dreamed…” Her voice broke.

  Adair pressed her hand to his lips and said gently, “You must feel you have lost a beloved sister. I am so sorry.”

  “Thank you.” She said with a faint sigh, “You do understand. I knew you would.”

  “I’m glad of that. And I beg you will not give up hope. We’ll find her yet. In that connection, I must ask you—did you know that Miss Alice was slipping out at night to meet my brother?”

  “No!” She drew back, her eyes at once stormy. “And I don’t believe a word of it! She would never do such a disgraceful thing! Besides, Hudson Adair is a very attractive gentleman, but scarcely the type to appeal to a young and romantical girl.”

  “Not Hudson. My younger brother. Nigel. And I am sorry to say he has made it clear that he is deep in love with your cousin.”

  She stared at him with shocked eyes. All the colour drained from her cheeks, and she exclaimed in a half-whisper, “Nigel…? Oh! My heavens! I—we…”

  “What is it? If he has—”

  “No, no, he has not—That is—Oh, Hasty! What a dreadful mistake for us to make! Yes, I know you don’t understand. But did it never occur to you to wonder why we were all so sure you were guilty?”

  “You trusted in your coachman and the testimony of the people at the hotel. I can scarce blame you!”

  “It was damning, true. But we might have investigated more thoroughly had it not been for…” She fumbled in her reticule and took out a creased piece of paper. “I intended to confront you with this. I found it on my cousin’s writing-desk after she disappeared. It was never introduced into evidence because we feared it would damage her reputation. We knew you had been in England on several occasions last autumn, and this little reminder that she had writ to herself convinced my family that you had indeed met Alice prior to the ball, and were lying about it, and about everything.”