"I came as soon as I heard," he said without preamble. He took her hand and kissed it heatedly. "I am surprised to find you in your habit. Is your aunt supervising the packing, then?"
"Packing? Whatever for?"
"Your air of calm does you credit. Quite right. Silence any remarks with a facade of nonchalance. I do see your point, and admire you for your pluck."
She shook her head, wondering if there was something wrong with her hearing. "Packing? Calm? Pray be seated and tell me what it is that you have heard which would make you think that we would be leaving Town?"
He smiled at her almost coyly. "Please, Miss Ashton, I believe I have been a very good friend to you. I hope to be something more than that ere long. You do not have to maintain your pretense with me. I would not think any the less of you if you gave vent to your feelings, though only when we are in private, of course."
She stared at him. "I don't understand. What are you saying?"
The Earl had the grace to look embarrassed. "You really don't know, then?"
"Know what?" she said, beginning to grow exasperated.
He took her hand possessively in both his own. She tried not to yank it away as he looked at her. At length he said, "My dear, I was so sorry to hear the awful news. I wanted to be the first to offer my help and protection. It would appear your former friend the vicar was a fortune hunter after all. I congratulate you on your lucky escape. You obviously became alert to his character flaws and deception just in time, before your name became linked irrevocably with his."
"Fortune-hunter? Are you speaking of Mr. Deveril?" she asked in astonishment.
"Of course, your family has lost mightily, but I'm sure you will take steps to recover your dire situation at once. Your own portion is untouched, of course, and he'll have a hard time running an estate without any ready cash."
Pamela felt as though the floor under her feet had opened up and revealed Hell itself. "I don't understand. What would lead you to such an awful conclusion? Please, stop maundering on so, and tell me what has happened!"
"Surely your solicitors would have contacted you by now? Your dear Step-Mama must even now be packing up all your worldly goods to go the Lord only knows where."
Pamela pressed her fingers to her throbbing temple. "I cry your pardon, sir. I have no idea what matters you are speaking of. Please, explain to me what you've heard, and how you've come by this knowledge, when I have not?"
He had the grace to look embarrassed. "I have a friend in the Law Courts. The case came up, was heard, and decided. My friend had recollected me mentioning your name with the highest regard. He was naturally fearful as to what this turn of events would do to your prospects. I told him my feelings for you were in no way altered. That I would be only too pleased to marry you even after this unfortunate loss-"
"But what has happened?" she exclaimed impatiently. "You talk in riddles! Tell me what you've heard."
"That your father's will has been overturned. It appears that your Step-Mama's son from her previous marriage may well have been adopted by your father to be the heir to the Ashton estate, but is not recognized as such by the terms of previous wills, which stipulate an heir of the body, and a male only.
"I'm sorry that you yourself will not be able to inherit the land and house as a result of that requirement. Tracing back the line far enough, several generations, it seems, your cousin pressed his own claim. His lawyers have been most assiduous in asserting his rights to the property. It has thus been awarded to him. Bertie is dispossessed, and your cousin is now the heir to Ashton Manor."
"My cousin? My father was an only child, as was his father before him. I know of no existing kin. Pray, of whom do you speak?"
"Why, Jonathan Deveril of course."
A volcano erupting right in the sitting room could not have astonished or affected her more.
"It can't be true," she whispered, sure the whole house was quaking and about to tumble down around her ears.
"It is, I assure you. I thought that was why you were so much together. Because he was a respectable vicar, and a kinsman of yours. It just shows how wrong one can be in a person."
She shook her head and rose from the sofa to head toward the nearest drawingroom. "No, no! I could not have been so deceived in him. He does not care for wealth and position. He would never-"
The Earl followed along behind. "His friendship with the Duke of Ellesmere has made him ambitious, I dare say. But even that would not be so bad were it not for his moral failings as well. How anyone could be such a consummate hypocrite is beyond me." He shook his head in disgust.
Pamela laughed almost hysterically. "The next thing you know, you'll be telling me Mr. Deveril is really a rake of the first order."
Ferncliffe's face closed up, leaving behind a mask of remote politeness. "I can see I have distressed you, Miss Ashton. I shall take my leave." He began to back away out the door.
Her legs gave way, and she sat on a small gold sofa. "You cannot be in earnest! What are you trying to tell me?"
His dark face closed up. "I refuse to say any more. It's not my place. If your aunt chooses to tell you, it shall be her decision. I refuse to corrupt innocent minds with tales of such appalling behavior." He began to withdraw once more.
Pamela nearly fell over the gilt and blue silk footstool in her haste to pursue him.
"Well, now that you've used the word appalling, I can only assume the absolute worst. So you might as well tell me what he's done, and thus remove the killing suspense," Pamela demanded, trying to hold back the tears.
The Earl shook his head. "I understand Jonathan Deveril is a cousin of yours. But really, what has happened is nothing to either of us. You shall marry me. Anything he does to you or your Step-Mama will not touch us then.
"I do not care about your inferior relations or lack of wealth, I only care about you. You are indeed fortunate to have found a fiancé who loves you well enough to overlook such scandal, and will stand by you when the storm finally breaks."
"Storm?" She sat down in a chair by the door.
"Pray compose yourself. I am going to go speak with your aunt now. When I'm finished, and you have composed yourself, you may speak with her. You'll be much more settled in your mind once you have heard the whole truth.
"But I fear I have shocked you terribly. I will call in your friends to attend you. I shall take my leave of you for the present, my dear."
He took her cold, limp hand and kissed it. He was gone before she could even absorb what he had said about being her fiancé.
Chapter Thirty
After her shocking conversation with the Earl of Ferncliffe, Pamela felt so weak that she could barely ring the bell to summon a servant. She sat numbly, and only the arrival of her friends prevented her from throwing herself upon the carpet and howling with misery.
Abigail and Marjorie fussed over her until she thought she would scream. They didn't for a minute accept the explanation that the Earl had come for the express purpose of riding with them and that she had suddenly been taken ill, but they held their peace.
The Earl had either broken off the engagement, or had told her that he wanted to marry her immediately. Might she have done something she oughtn't? Whatever was going on, it was too delicious. They simply had to bide their time to learn all.
The Earl was in the study with her aunt for at least thirty minutes. Every time Pamela rose to go in the room and demand that they tell her what was going on, she was pressed back into her seat by either of the two sisters, and forced to drink more chocolate.
Finally, she heard the Earl taking his leave of her aunt, along with the older woman's twitterings of delight.
Pamela was confused. How could her aunt sound so happy after what the Earl had told her about Bertie not being her father's heir after all?
Her aunt came bursting into the room, still wearing her wrapper and her curling rags under her flouncy cap. She was so delighted with the news, she could not restrain herself.
Abigail and Marjorie squealed with delight and hugged and kissed Pamela. She, however, sat there numbly.
"But he never even asked me. How can he-"
"Asked YOU? Lawks, he asked my permission. That is enough."
They all began to titter again about the gowns, the jewels, the honor, her luck.
Pamela found her voice at last. "No, Aunt Susan, that is not enough. What do we really know about the Earl? About what I can expect as his wife? Has no one been listening to me these past few weeks? Just because we helped him redecorate does not mean I love him and wish to marry him."
"To be sure, girl, what else did you think his intentions were?" her aunt said, staring at her in horror. "Did you think you could dance the first and second dances with him at the Upper Rooms in Bath, and flirt with him so outrageously, and not get your name linked with his? How can you be such a simpleton? Or are you really much more clever than you're letting on?"
Her aunt practically winked at her. She could see her two friends looking at her with feline expressions, and rose from her seat stiffly.
"You are correct, of course, Aunt. I set out to catch myself a husband, and got exactly what I deserved," she said with a brave lift of her chin, cursing herself for her foolishness once more. "Now, if you don't mind, I shall take your advice, and go upstairs to pick my gown. Will you please come with me, Aunt? I should like your opinion."
Abigail and Marjorie both said, "We would be only to happy to help, Pamela."
"No, really. That is too kind. You can help me dress this evening. I would not like to deprive you of your ride. It is a fine morning. I am sure there will be many interesting people abroad."
The sisters' eyes gleamed again.
Abigail said, "Well, if you're sure."
"I am. Off you go. And pray make my excuses when you pay your calls this afternoon. I shall rest for my grand evening tonight."
The girls scurried off delightedly. Pamela had no doubt that the news of her so-called engagement would be all over the Ton by noon.
But that was the least of her worries. She didn't give a fig what any of these people thought of her, not any more. Far more important was to find out what the Earl had been talking about when he had told her that Jonathan had been a fortune hunter who had disinherited her stepbrother and was throwing all of them out into the road.
Surely her behavior at Bath could not have provoked such appalling conduct, now could it? Jonathan had been angry. But vindictive? Greedy? Her head swam just thinking what a lucky escape she had made if he really had been after her money all along.
He had first turned up when her father was dying. Swooping like a vulture? The swine...
Her head swum with the enormity of it all. Jonathan must have discovered the legal loophole which would award him the estate, and had pursued her, pretending to care, when what he really wanted was her fortune to maintain the establishment.
He had offered to help her with her business concerns. Had been livid when she had offered a post to Gareth Cavendish to act as steward. When she had proven too much of an irritation to him, he had decided to forgo the pleasure of having to saddle himself with an inconvenient and unloved wife. He had just moved to take the estate for himself.
Her stomach rebelled. She thought she was going to ruin the hall carpet, her thoughts made her so ill. But she struggled valiantly to retain her composure until she got to the safety of her bedroom, then relieved herself of the contents of her stomach in the chamber pot.
Pamela retched until she thought she would lose her stomach as well. Eventually the heaves subsided. She rinsed her mouth, forced herself to drink some water, then splashed her scalding face. If pride went before a fall, well, she should have known her triumph at Court would have to be paid for with an almighty tumble into the mire.
She waited eagerly for her aunt to join her, pacing back and forth like a mad woman. At length the older woman entered, now clad in an elegant dark blue day dress and with every hair in place.
"Aunt Susan, please, I must speak with you. I want to know if the Earl has told you anything about Father's will being overturned, and Bertie removed as the heir because he is not one of the body, only one by adoption."
She nodded. "It's true. He told me the very same. I have of course written to your dear Step-Mama. We will do everything we can. It may not go well for us, but the Earl has friends, connections-"
"So do we, without having to be beholden to a man who is little more than a passing acquaintance. We will write to Step-Mama, and find out precisely what has happened. And we should start packing to return to Somerset."
The older woman looked appalled. "Nonsense. That would be the worst thing we could do. It makes no sense to turn tail and run now that the word has got out about you losing the family home and fortune. You're just about to embark on the Season proper. After your wonderful reception at court, with the Prince of Wales being so gracious as to notice you, it would be the height of folly to leave now.
"Moreover, you're not paying attention to what is truly important. The fact that you and the Earl are to be married. That in itself ensures that no scandal will befall us."
"But Aunt-"
"It is too kind of him to stand by us in our hour of need. Anyone who could possibly doubt his devotion needs only see how promptly he came to our aid. He offered for your hand to ensure that the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune should not harm you in any way."
"Please, Aunt Susan, you're getting carried away. I can see how thrilled you are with the engagement, but I cannot think of marrying at this juncture, when my half-sisters are about to be cast out of their home. And of course Step-Mama and Bertie. They are not blood relations, but they are friends at the very least. I am Bertie's guardian. I have to protect his interests even if no one else seems to be making the effort to do so. He must be entitled to something, or my father's widow. I still don't understand. How on earth could such a thing have happened?"
Her aunt shrugged. "Wills are overturned all the time."
"But by Jonathan Deveril of all people?" Pamela paced up and down in front of the window, then turned to looked at her aunt once more. "It makes no sense to me. Has he ever struck you as greedy? Willing to do anything to get his hands on an estate? That he would cast out my own family for his own personal gain? And that his sister and friends would approve of him behaving in such a manner?"
Aunt Susan shrugged. "For a time there I believed he might be thinking about offering for you. But it was soon apparent that you had other fish to fry with the Earl.
"Besides, I didn't raise you to be a fool. A mere clergyman. Humph. The very idea. In any case, you've made a lucky escape. I might have considered the match if he had come to us and explained about his entitlement to your poor dear Papa's estate. Then he would not have been so objectionable, and I am sure he would have given up the parish and acted as a country gentleman ought.
"But no. He crept about behind our backs like a thief in the night. Never once even attempted to make it right by offering for you. And that is just as well, knowing all that I know now."
The more Aunt Susan railed against Jonathan, the less convinced Pamela became that the Earl was innocent in all of this. The image of a spider in a web hit her with full force.
"Aunt Susan, please don't let the Earl's title dazzle you. All is not what it seems here."
Her aunt paused in her diatribe. "How so?"
"I'm not sure. I need time to think." She pinched the bridge of her nose hard. What was she to believe?
If she did not trust the Earl, nor did she know what to make of Jonathan when she had so few facts. But she had known the vicar a great deal longer than Ferncliffe. Surely not everyt
hing she and Jonathan had shared had been a lie?
She played over in her mind all of his little kindnesses to her and her father, how they had grown so close, his touches, his kisses.
She gazed out the window at the cold gray morning, but no answers were to be hand there.
At length Pamela sat down across from her aunt sitting on the low bench at the foot of the bed. "Please, Aunt, you must tell me the whole truth. The Earl hinted at something scandalous about Mr. Deveril, but refused to tell me what it was. He said it was so appalling that he did not wish to shock and dismay me by repeating it. What has Jonathan done that is so shameful the Earl could not bring himself to speak of it before me?"
Her aunt looked at her for a moment in silence.
The Rakehell Regency Romance Series Boxed Set 1 Page 93
