Regency Rumours/A Scandalous Mistress/Dishonour And Desire

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Regency Rumours/A Scandalous Mistress/Dishonour And Desire Page 7

by Juliet Landon


  ‘Let go of my arm, Mr Hurst,’ she said calmly, though she quaked inside with every shade of insult and anger. ‘You have forgotten yourself, I believe. I can lend you some money and then I shall expect you to go and find somewhere to stay. You can not stay here. It’s not as safe as you think. I have some rather influential friends, you see.’ It was a long shot, but it might work.

  Releasing her, he watched as she moved away well beyond his reach while his eyes widened at her boast. It was unlike her. ‘You surely don’t mean the Marquess and his son? Him, too? What’s his name … Elyot? So you know the man who’s been scouring Buxton for gossip about you, then?’

  ‘He was not scouring Buxton for gossip, Mr Hurst,’ she said, fabricating the beginning of an outrageous piece of fiction in the hope that he might swallow it. ‘He was simply clearing up some questions to do with Sir Josiah’s property. The man you spoke to was Lord Elyot’s lawyer. Naturally he wouldn’t disclose his client’s business to a complete stranger, would he? The neighbours he visited are those whose names I gave him, personal friends, and loyal. There was no need for your dramatic conclusion, Mr Hurst. It’s all quite innocent. He should be back from Manchester any day now, I dare say.’

  Hurst sat down rather suddenly, gripping the arms of the chair until his knuckles were white. ‘What? You know this Lord Elyot and his father? The magistrate? Is it true?’

  ‘Of course I know them,’ she said, derisively, warming to the theme. ‘What do you suppose I’ve been doing for the past five weeks, living like a recluse? Miss Chester is at this moment out driving with Lord Elyot’s brother, visiting his sister.’

  The arrogance drained from his face as he sifted through this surprising development, hoping to find a flaw in it. He tried scepticism. ‘Hah! You’re not telling me he sent a man up to Buxton to prepare the ground for some kind of … understanding … between you, are you? After only five weeks?’

  ‘He’s settling a few legal matters for me, visiting my solicitor. He has the means. It’s quite the usual way to proceed, I’m told.’

  ‘That’s not what I asked you,’ he said, nastily. ‘Do you have an understanding with this man?’

  ‘Yes, of sorts.’ The plunge into such a fathomless untruth was like a douche of icy water, so absurd was the idea. She had never told such a whopper before, but nor had she needed the protection of a man’s name more than she did now, her excuse being that Lord Elyot would never know how she had used him, of all unlikely people. ‘You really do ask the most indelicate questions, Mr Hurst. It is not common knowledge, yet.’

  Hurst leaned back in the chair, eyeing her with some disbelief. If a man could win her in five weeks, he must have something no one else had. Even Chester with all his wealth had taken longer than that, but then she had been only twenty and as green as grass. ‘Not common knowledge, eh? That sounds to me remarkably like saying that Lord Elyot doesn’t know of it either.’

  ‘Then you’ll be able to ask him yourself, won’t you? I’m expecting him to call any time now.’ That, she thought, should see the back of him.

  To her joy, her clever ruse began to work. Hurst rose slowly from the chair and strolled over to pick up his hat and gloves, apparently taking seriously the possibility that he might at any moment bump into the influential son of the local magistrate. This time, he suspected that the odds were definitely stacked against him. ‘Money,’ he said. ‘There’s a small matter of a contribution, if you would be so kind. Then I shall leave you to your lover. Are we talking of wives, or mistresses?’

  Amelie paled with the effort of controlling her fury. ‘We are not talking at all, sir. The sooner you go, the better. Here, take this and get out of my house. It’s all I have available.’ She took the weighty bag of coins that had been returned from the workhouse and threw it in his direction, but because she was thoroughly unnerved by his insult and by her own indiscretion, and because he was not expecting that particular mode of conveyance, the bag landed on the floor with a heavy thud some way from his left heel.

  At that precise moment, Henry threw open the door, but was unable to announce the visitor’s name before he strode in, pulled up sharply, and stood there with that unshakeable poise which was one of his most attractive qualities.

  Amelie could have screamed at him that he was not expected until the afternoon, and that he was not to speak to Mr Hurst under any circumstances. Her plan was destined to come unstuck, however, teaching her never to lie like that again. ‘Lord Elyot,’ she said, breathlessly, ‘your timing is perfect, as ever. My guest is just about to leave.’

  ‘I hope you will introduce us,’ he said coolly, taking in the complete picture including the money-bag on the floor, Hurst’s eagerness to be gone, and the angry red blotches upon Amelie’s neck and cheeks.

  ‘Ruben Hurst. Lord Elyot,’ she said.

  The two men bowed, and Hurst would have made for the door except that Lord Elyot stood in his way and looked unlikely to move.

  ‘Mr Hurst is an old friend of the family,’ Amelie said, ‘on his way to London.’

  ‘Is that so? And you’re staying here in Richmond?’ said Lord Elyot, still not moving.

  Hurst seemed to cringe a little. ‘Well, my lord, I am suffering a slight embarrassment. I came down by post-chaise from Buxton and discovered at the first stop that my luggage has been left behind … mixed up, somehow … stupid porters … you know how it is … well, no, you probably don’t. And now I find myself without my belongings or my money. It was in my trunk, you see, safe from highwaymen. So annoying. I had wondered whether dear Lady Chester would be in a position to offer an old friend a night’s hospitality, but perhaps that’s not a good idea after all.’

  ‘There are some good inns in Richmond, Mr Hurst,’ said Lord Elyot with a remarkable lack of sympathy.

  ‘Ah … yes, of course. Lady Chester has kindly offered to lend me some funds to pay for accommodation until my own arrives. We have been close friends for a good many years, you see, as I’m sure she has sometimes mentioned to you. Very close.’

  ‘No, I don’t believe Lady Chester has ever mentioned you.’

  ‘Oh … er, that does surprise me, my lord. She has confided in me something of the nature of your personal relationship … your understanding, that is, though of course I shall keep it to myself until it’s announced. May I offer you my felicitations, my lord? You are fortunate indeed, as I’m sure Lady Chester is also.’

  Amelie closed her eyes and held her breath.

  ‘Thank you for your felicitations, Mr Hurst. Yes, I am indeed a very fortunate man,’ came Lord Elyot’s unwavering response. ‘And as a very good friend of the family, you will be kept informed of our progress. However, I am sure you will appreciate that our negotiations are still at a rather delicate stage, and I must point out to you that Lady Chester’s circumstances are changing, even as we speak. So the funds she has so kindly offered to lend you are frozen for the time being. Unfortunately, she is no longer in a position to lend you anything, Mr Hurst. Not until everything is finalised, you understand. Then we shall review the situation.’

  Amelie opened her eyes and slowly began to breathe again.

  Hurst took a step backwards, glancing at the money-bag on the floor with a grimace between a frown and a forced smile of defeat. ‘Yes, indeed, my lord. Yes … er … I had not thought, and naturally Lady Chester did not say as much to me.’

  ‘No, she wouldn’t.’ Lord Elyot smiled at her. ‘She is the most kind-hearted lady.’

  ‘Quite, my lord. You see, she lent me money in the past for which I have never ceased to be grateful. Most grateful.’

  ‘Really? What was that for, Mr Hurst? More luggage problems?’

  ‘No, it was for my beloved sister, my lord. A predicament. These things happen,’ he whispered, sadly. ‘Lady Chester was infinitely generous.’ He turned a look upon her that Garrick could have boasted of, full of devotion, adoration, and a sickening intimacy that almost turned Amelie’s stomach.

 
At that, she caught Lord Elyot’s eye for the first time and, without the slightest effort, conveyed to him all the fury and humiliation of the past half hour. Relieved beyond words to have had his support at this most disturbing interview that had satisfied none of her intended queries, she also felt the repercussions of her grotesque lie banking up behind her like the thunderclouds of doom in some Gothic novel, with the supernatural calm that comes before the storm.

  ‘I could not agree more, Mr Hurst,’ said Lord Elyot smoothly. ‘Lady Chester’s warmth and generosity are the first things that attracted me to her. Now, my good fellow, I can recommend some excellent inns in Richmond: the Red Lyon and the Feathers are opposite each other, the Greyhound, the Talbot … oh, any number of them. On the other hand, the mail coach leaves for London from the King Street posting-office three times daily. You may wish to take advantage of that as soon as your baggage catches you up. I see you understand me well, sir.’

  As he spoke, Lord Elyot reached behind him to open the door where the faithful Henry was waiting for just such a moment.

  From beneath his gathered brows, Hurst glowered with deep distrust at his audience, but carefully avoided looking at the money he was forbidden to retrieve. He bowed. ‘Your servant … my lady … my lord.’ Then he was gone.

  In spite of her new predicament, Amelie’s relief and gratitude robbed her of words and, if she had been of a weepy frame of mind, she would almost certainly have burst into tears and thrown herself bodily into the arms of her rescuer. But since her rescuer was bound to be expecting some convincing explanations very shortly, she stood with both hands enclosing the entire lower half of her face as if she were praying. Which, in a sense, she was. She was also wondering how on earth to explain herself, not to mention Ruben Hurst.

  She realised she was in for a rough ride as soon as Lord Elyot approached her with that maddeningly cryptic expression he favoured, and said, ‘Well, my dear Lady Chester, there’s a dirty dish if ever I saw one. You really do have the oddest friends. I fear I may have to forbid you to see him again once our engagement is formally announced. He won’t do, my dear. Really he won’t. Not up to the mark at all.’

  ‘You were not expected until this afternoon,’ Amelie mumbled through her fingers.

  ‘Yes, and you’d have been out, wouldn’t you? Hardly the way to behave towards your intended husband.’

  ‘Please … stop it! You must have realised that was a last resort.’

  ‘Thank you. I cannot recall when I was last known as a last resort. Must have been in my schooldays, I suppose.’

  ‘That’s not what I meant.’

  ‘Then what did you mean? And who was that jackanapes with his bag of moonshine?’

  Inside her hands, she shook her head, closing her eyes.

  ‘You’ll do better like this,’ he said, taking her wrists. ‘It releases the mouth, I find. There now. Come and sit over here.’ Leading her to the chair vacated by Hurst, he lowered her into it. Then, pouring her a glass of some mulberry-coloured liquid from a decanter, he passed it to her. ‘I don’t know what this stuff is, but take a sip.’

  ‘Blackcurrant juice. Thank you.’ Obediently, she sipped.

  A pained expression fled across his eyes. ‘Is that what I’m going to have to put up with? Heaven help me.’

  ‘Lord Elyot, I owe you an explanation, I know, and an apology for making use of your name. I didn’t think you would ever find out, and that’s the truth of it and, at that particular moment, I desperately needed that dreadful man to believe I had influential friends here.’

  ‘Well, that’s an improvement on being a last resort, I suppose. But if you didn’t think I’d find out, what d’ye suppose he’ll be doing in the nearest tap-room at this very moment but telling everyone within range that Lady Chester, his very close friend, has an understanding with Sheen’s eldest son? I’m really quite gratified to discover who my next partner is to be before the rest of Richmond does. You must understand my relief, I hope?’

  That was a possibility she had not taken time to consider. ‘Would he do that?’ she asked, weakly.

  ‘Well, I would if I were him. He needs all the clout he can get. Who is he?’

  ‘A gambler and prime scandalmonger from Buxton. I’m afraid this so-called affection he professes is all in his mind. He was a family friend, my lord, but not any more.’

  ‘So why let him in?’

  ‘If I’d thought he would come here to Richmond, I would have told Henry to keep him out, but since he was in, I thought it was best to know exactly what he was up to. Better the devil you know than the devil you don’t know, as they say. I suspected he’d ask for money. He always needs money. So I gave him some, hoping he’d go away and leave me in peace.’

  ‘Most people would call that blackmail, Lady Chester. You really are not the most worldy-wise of women, are you? A charming naïvety, I suppose some would call it.’ He glanced at the money bag still on the floor.

  Stung by the criticism, even though it was accurate enough, she threw him a glance not intended to alter the rhythm of his heart, which it did. ‘I had a good husband,’ she snapped, ‘who was worldly-wise enough for both of us and I have not acquired the knack of it yet.’

  ‘Then it’s time you had a replacement, my lady. Indeed, you’ve already set the machinery in motion all on your own. I find your reading of my mind quite uncanny.’

  Amelie leapt to her feet, slamming the glass down upon her table so hard that the juice slopped on to her toadstool sketch. ‘I’d rather not stay in here with you any longer, my lord. This is my favourite room, not to be shadowed by argumentative men with silly talk. Two in one morning is more than I can bear.’

  Glancing around him again, Lord Elyot could well understand her feelings on the matter, even if the expression of them came close to a set-down. The room was obviously special to her, for not only was her work table spread with paints, papers and sketches, but by his side stood a large oak folio stand holding her unframed watercolour paintings, very like the one he had admired on his first visit. He would much rather have given his sister one of those. Leather-bound volumes lined the walls, botanical journals, poetry, and novels in French and Italian. A portrait of a middle-aged businessman holding a roll of parchment looked down from above the marble chimney-piece. Her father, perhaps? Whoever he was, this conversation would be better continued, he thought, out of the man’s hearing.

  ‘I agree,’ he said. ‘I have a better idea.’ Before she could object to any plan, he hitched the shawl up around her shoulders and threw the long end over to the back. ‘There’s a decided chill in the air. Come with me.’

  Without a murmur of protest she went with him downstairs and out through a back door into the garden, boxed into sections by waist-high hedges and paved pathways. Rose-covered columns supported wooden beams across which blowsy roses drooped their wet rusting petals and, at the far end in the shelter of a tall yew hedge, a curved stone bench waited for them, warmed by the sun.

  With some foreboding, Amelie wondered if she would be able to fend off his imminent and no doubt relentless questions, for it was clear he was not going to leave things as they were. Brushing the dust off the bench, he waited for her to sit before taking his place at her side, and she could not hold back a comparison of his tight white breeches with Hurst’s buff pantaloons, a world apart.

  He saw what was in her mind. ‘Memories?’ he said, softly.

  Beneath the shawl, heat flooded into her neck and she looked away quickly to conceal the reply in her eyes. ‘I have apologised, my lord,’ she said, stiffly. ‘Pray do not retaliate by reminding me of … things … I would rather forget. You cannot know how deeply shamed I am.’

  ‘So shamed that you thought it a good idea to attach your name to mine? That doesn’t sound like shame to me, my lady.’

  ‘A temporary device. I’ve tried to explain. What more can I do?’

  ‘Oh, that’s easily solved,’ he said, smiling. ‘But we’ll discuss those de
tails later, shall we? What I’d like to know is why you were—’

  ‘Naïve?’

  ‘… generous enough to lend money to Hurst in the past. I suspect he was lying when he said it was for his sister. Didn’t you?’

  ‘The story does me no credit, my lord. It happened when I was newly married and very trusting of men. I know better now. He told me his sister was being evicted because she was … well … in a difficult situation. She needed money desperately. I let him have some and he swore he’d repay me. He never did. It was not until after my husband’s death that I discovered Hurst had no sister, that the money was to pay a gambling debt. To Josiah. And since you are about to ask the obvious question, no, Josiah did not know of my loan to Hurst.’

  ‘Or he would have been angry with you?’

  ‘For trying to help a woman in distress? No, not for that, though he might have been surprised by the amount I was asked for.’

  ‘But Hurst can be prosecuted for such a thing. That’s theft, you know. Obtaining money by false pretences. Fraud.’

  ‘It’s too late for all that. Water under the bridge.’

  ‘No, it isn’t. You have friends who know the truth of the matter, surely? They’d testify at a trial. And your word is worth something.’

  ‘His word against mine. I told no one about the loan because the reason for it was confidential. Afterwards, I was not likely to tell anyone how I had been duped by a man like that. I hoped to learn by it, that’s all.’

  ‘But you haven’t, have you?’

  This was getting too close. She must seem not to understand him. ‘Oh, I think I have, my lord. I’ve learnt that it’s best to stay clear of men, for the time being, at least. It’s my niece who needs to get to know them, not I.’

  ‘You wish to protect Hurst, then?’

  ‘I wish him to stay well out of my life, sir.’

  ‘Then the best place for him is behind bars or, believe me, he’ll keep on coming back for more. Unless you can rely on the timely intervention of your future husband, that is.’

 

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