Ten Guineas on Love
Page 27
“What is it?” Charity asked.
“I’m not sure,” he replied slowly. “But I think you’d better open it.” He passed it to her and watched her changing expressions as she read it.
My dear Miss Mayfield,
No doubt you will be surprised to receive a letter from me; no doubt, also, you will be sceptical of the contents. I would be disappointed in you if it were otherwise. As I said when we met, you are very like your father in your courage and your composure, but in one respect at least you are immeasurably his superior. If Mayfield had been blessed with your wit, and your clear-sightedness, I would feel less guilt for what I did a year ago. But Mayfield was not my opponent—he was my dupe. A brave, heroic, generous dupe. I will avoid such men in future—they make me uncomfortable.
But you, my dear, are different. I have no doubt that we shall meet again, and when we do I want no unfinished business lying between us. I fear I’ll need all my wits to survive that encounter—and guilt is a bad companion.
So…I enclose the key to decoding the Duke’s diaries and, to appease your immediate curiosity and to save you the need to read through the entire two volumes, I also enclose a brief resumé of the pendant’s history. Thus I feel I have discharged my obligations to you—and to Riversleigh.
Until our next meeting, I remain,
your faithful servant,
Justin Ashbourne.
By the time Charity had finished the letter she was a prey to so many conflicting emotions that she didn’t know what to say. She handed it to Jack without a word and waited for him to speak.
“The man’s incorrigible!” he exclaimed as he came to the end.
He glanced at Charity to see what she was thinking.
“He didn’t want Hazelhurst, you know,” he added more quietly. “By the time you went to see him I think his conscience had given him a lot of trouble. All he wanted was the opportunity not to take it—and he was expecting me to give it to him.”
“So you did,” said Charity, smiling at him. “I suppose he would have felt as if he was losing face if he’d just given it back to me.”
“I think so,” said Jack. “What does he say about the pendant?”
Charity scanned the second sheet quickly.
“It’s a portrait of the fifth Duchess of Faversham, painted just after her marriage in 1578,” she said at last, paraphrasing Lord Ashbourne’s more elegant sentences. “It was given by her son, the sixth Duke—the one who wrote the diary—to Thomas Mayfield in 1639 as a reward for his extraordinary loyalty to the Duke’s son. Of course!” she interrupted herself. “Thomas was the man who built Hazelhurst. I wonder if he actually built the house to hide the pendant?”
“That was always a strong possibility,” Jack agreed, not at all surprised at what she’d told him. “I’ve suspected from the first that Thomas must have had something to do with it. You never did see where the jewel was hidden, but it certainly seemed to me that the hiding-place was an integral part of the house, and you told me on our very first meeting that Thomas had built it. You also told me that he’d died fighting in the Civil War only a few years later, and that might have been when the knowledge of the jewel was lost to your family. What’s the matter?”
Charity was staring at him in amazement.
“You mean you guessed all that the minute you found the pendant?” she exclaimed.
“Not immediately,” he said apologetically as he realised that she wasn’t entirely pleased. “But you must admit, the man who built the house did have the best opportunity for installing such an elaborate hiding-place. Anyway, I still don’t know why he was given the jewel. I’m waiting for you to enlighten me.”
“But why didn’t you tell me?” Charity demanded, ignoring the last part of his comment, and obviously feeling torn between admiration and annoyance. “And, now I come to think about it, this isn’t the first time you haven’t told me all you know.”
“Yes, I’m very sorry,” said Jack hastily, because he didn’t want to be side-tracked into an argument. “I won’t do it again. But you must admit, I didn’t have much opportunity to tell you—besides, it was really only supposition. Until the Earl sent you that letter there was nothing to confirm my suspicions. Now, are you going to tell me why the Duke gave Thomas the pendant?”
Charity looked at him consideringly for a moment, as if debating whether he deserved to be told, but then she glanced back at the letter.
“Well,” she said slowly, “according to Lord Ashbourne’s interpretation of the diary, the Duke’s son was not entirely…sane. He suffered from periods of great melancholy, interspersed with periods of frenzied activity. He must have caused his father great distress and eventually Thomas was the only loyal friend he had left. In the end, there was a fire in which the Duke’s son died and, because the Duke’s only surviving heir was a nephew he didn’t like, he gave the pendant to Thomas instead. Thomas must have told him of the hiding-place he’d devised for it, and the Duke wrote that down in his diary too.”
“Very careless,” Jack commented. “To write it down, I mean. But I dare say he didn’t think anyone would be able to read what he’d written, or that the knowledge of the pendant, would be lost to your family. If the knowledge hadn’t been lost, of course, your father would probably have guessed what Lord Ashbourne was trying to do, and none of this would have happened. The only question now is how the Earl came to have possession of the diary, but I dare say that’s one thing he’ll never tell us.”
“No,” said Charity slowly. “You know, it’s just occurred to me that if it hadn’t been for Lord Ashbourne—and Gideon, especially Gideon—we would never have known about the pendant. So at least one good thing has come out of this whole business.”
“Only one?” Jack asked, taking her back into his arms.
Charity looked puzzled, and then she laughed.
“Lord Ashbourne didn’t have anything to do with you inheriting Riversleigh,” she pointed out. “And if you hadn’t we would probably never have met.”
“True,” said Jack. “And that reminds me of something far more important. In less than two weeks’ time you are going to owe me ten guineas! I hope you don’t intend to renege on our bargain!”
For a moment Charity stared at him in confusion, then realised that he was talking about their wager.
“But I am betrothed,” she protested half-heartedly.
“Not sufficient. As I recall, the wager was specifically as to whether you would be married by the end of February,” Jack pointed out.
“Oh, dear.” Charity gazed at him helplessly for a moment; then she started to laugh as she remembered something. “I haven’t actually got any money,” she said. “I was so preoccupied when we left Sussex that I never thought to bring any. Will you take an IOU?”
“If you wish, but are you sure you can’t think of a better solution to the problem than that?” Jack asked, wickedly teasing her with his eyes. “I’m sure Lord Ashbourne would be disappointed in you.”
“I don’t…We couldn’t!” Charity gasped as enlightenment suddenly dawned. “We can’t get married in such a rush. What will everybody say?”
“Congratulations?” Jack suggested. “I’m sure your mother will be delighted. She’s been viewing me as a prospective son-in-law ever since we met.”
“Mama has?” Charity exclaimed. “She never said anything.”
“No, it’s a constant source of amazement to me that such a tactful woman could have produced such an outspoken daughter,” said Jack, his eyes gleaming humorously as he saw the sudden flare of indignation in hers. “I do not, however, feel this is the moment to discuss your mother.”
He smiled down at her and she felt her heart turn over.
“Are you, or are you not going to consent to win ten guineas from me?” he asked.
Charity gazed up at him consideringly for perhaps three seconds, then an answering smile lit her face.
“I would be delighted to do so,” she replied.
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ISBN-13: 9781460361337
TEN GUINEAS ON LOVE
Copyright © 1992 by Claire Thornton
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