by Mary Brendan
‘He has seduced my daughter! How can a man be sensible on knowing that?’ Walter again raised the letter in vibrating fingers. ‘My sister has given me the news, and if Dolly has heard the rumours in Hammersmith, so has every confounded fellow and his wife from Mayfair to Cheapside.’
Elise used the heel of a hand to smear away tears that had trickled on to her cheeks. She knew her father wasn’t exaggerating the way scandals could spread like wildfire. She noticed that Beatrice’s pretty features were frozen in shock and bewilderment at this alarming turn of events. Wearily Elise realised that her sister had no idea this calamity had resulted from her stubborn determination to go to London and masquerade as Lady Lonesome.
* * *
‘I would not have advertised in the gazette if I’d known how it would end!’ Beatrice whimpered, scrubbing at her eyes with her hanky.
‘I know,’ Elise soothed her sister, attempting to quieten her crying. But her memory was not so short that she could not recall warning Beatrice time and again of the perils associated with such a harebrained scheme to get a husband.
As soon as they’d re-entered the house Mr Dewey had ordered both his daughters to go to their room. Elise hadn’t immediately obeyed; she’d attempted to defuse the situation by again impressing on her father that Alex Blackthorne’s proposition wasn’t what he thought. But her father would not listen, and the more determined she was to stay and defend Alex, the more Walter’s agitation increased. Like her mother before her she was too far under a rogue’s lecherous spell, her father had roared, at which point Dr Burnett had swiftly intervened, drawing Walter aside to calm him down. Alex had stayed just outside on the small terrace, as her father had denied him entry to his house. Elise had felt in equal part mortified and outraged at the injustice of his shabby treatment.
Elise had ushered Beatrice towards the stairs, knowing that further appeals to her father would only end in him becoming more overwrought.
Halfway up the treads Elise had glanced over a shoulder to see Alex watching her through the open back door. His smile of comfort and reassurance had crumbled her composure, making a huge sob swell in her chest. By the time they reached their chamber her tears were flowing as fast as her sister’s.
Once they had quietened down and had a chance to compose themselves Elise had explained to her sister the circumstances prompting their father’s distress and how Aunt Dolly’s letter was the catalyst to it all.
Beatrice had blinked in astonishment for a full minute before flinging herself back on to her bed in a renewed fit of hysterics. Now she used an elbow to get herself upright, raising bleary bloodshot eyes to Elise. She’d picked over some of the bones of the tale and was ready with questions. ‘Does Hugh know that I was his Lady Lonesome?’ she croaked. ‘Does he know that at Vauxhall you went off to meet Mr Best instead of me?’
‘I suspect Alex has not told him anything much, but can’t be sure, of course.’
‘And Papa...does he know the whole dreadful episode came about because of what I’d done? Will I be blamed for everything do you think?’
‘I don’t know...’ Elise gave a hopeless shake of the head. ‘I don’t know if he will allow the viscount an audience so he can explain. Oh...I don’t know what might come of it all, Beatrice. Papa might have already sent Alex on his way.’
Elise wandered to the window and looked out at the afternoon sunshine gilding the grass and the shrubbery where just an hour or so ago she and her sister and two handsome gentlemen had walked in pleasant harmony. Then, just for a fraction of time, she had deemed it possible that this might be one of the happiest days of her life; now her dreams had turned to dust. Her fears for her papa’s health were overriding every other anxiety whirling in her mind. She felt terribly guilty and that was frustrating because all of her actions in this dratted melodrama had been carried out with the purest of motives. The irony, of course, was that, had she simply curbed her boredom for a few months more, Beatrice would have been at home on the first occasion that Dr Burnett came to call on them.
‘Papa will never forgive me for getting you into trouble.’ Beatrice lifted her whitening face from a mopping hanky. ‘Are we all to be ruined?’ she whispered, aghast. ‘Will nobody ever want to speak to any of us again?’
‘No...don’t be silly...it won’t come to that,’ Elise promised in a heartening voice.
‘Why does the viscount not just pay Whittiker his money?’ Beatrice squeaked. ‘He is very rich and can afford it, I’m sure.’
‘Because it will not do.’ Elise sighed. ‘You know it will not. Alex has done nothing wrong other than agree to act as his friend’s proxy and meet Lady Lonesome. Besides, a blackmailer should be exposed and punished, not rewarded for his wickedness.’
Elise could tell that her sister was panic-stricken over the dreadful consequences of ostracism. Quite rightly Beatrice feared that her budding friendship with Colin Burnett might wither before blooming.
‘I didn’t go off to meet Mr Best. I don’t know why you thought I would.’ Beatrice sniffed. ‘I promised I would not go that night. You should have believed me, then none of this would have happened.’
Elise sank wearily on to the edge of her bed, her face dropping to rest in her cupped palms. How easily the finger of blame could spin and point away from its source. But there was truth in Bea’s accusation, too.
The sisters swivelled towards the door as they heard the light knock.
Betty Francis’s lined face and grey bun appeared before the woman stepped into the room. ‘Well...what a to do and no mistake.’ She puffed out her lips and shook her head. ‘I’m not about to pretend I’ve turned deaf...or daft. I’ve heard enough of your papa’s ranting and raving to get the gist of what’s gone on.’ She cast a gimlet eye on Elise. ‘The tall good-looking fellow...the viscount...he’s the one your father’s mad at, I take it?’
‘He’s done nothing wrong...’
‘That’s what they all say, Miss Elise.’ Betty crossed her arms under her bust. ‘Handsome is as handsome does.’
‘Is Lord Blackthorne with my father?’ Elise asked, rather fearful of hearing the answer.
‘He isn’t, miss.’ The housekeeper noticed the immediate flash of distress in Elise’s eyes and reassured, ‘Don’t you fret. He’s not gone away; he’s outside somewhere. Mr Dewey wants you to attend him in his study. That’s what I’m here to tell you, miss.’
Chapter Eighteen
From the landing Elise spied the top of Colin Burnett’s auburn head as he closed the door of her father’s study. Immediately she flew down the stairs to demand in a breathless whisper, ‘How is he, sir?’
‘I have given him a soothing draught and checked his pulse. He seems quite relaxed.’ Colin steered Elise away from the door to ensure his patient would not overhear them. ‘I tried to persuade your father to retire to bed for an hour or two, but he insists he is comfortable where he is in the large wing chair.’ He hesitated, tapping a blunt finger against his lips. ‘He wants to speak to you and the viscount. But whether together or separately...’ Colin’s warning grimace terminated in a sympathetic smile.
‘Where is Lord Blackthorne?’ Elise asked, feeling a trifle breathless at mentioning him.
‘I believe he went outside to talk to his tiger. I expect the lad is getting hungry and stiff if he has been balanced on his curricle for a time.’
‘Oh, would you let Mrs Francis know of his presence? I’m sure she’ll gladly fetch the boy a drink and a bite to eat.’ Elise felt guilty for only belatedly seeing to the tiger’s comfort; she’d seen him outside when she’d been with Alex in the morning room. It pleased her that Alex had been less short-sighted, proving himself a caring master.
Colin nodded acceptance of her errand. ‘Then I must set off and see my patient in Woodley.’ He took out his pocket watch, briefly consulting it. ‘I will be back la
ter to check on your father...but not to dine, that was not my intention in mentioning my return,’ he added hastily.
‘It would have been nice to have you as our guest,’ Elise said simply. Even on short acquaintance she knew she liked Colin Burnett. ‘I’m sorry you witnessed such...unpleasantness earlier.’ A wry smile pulled down the corners of her mouth. ‘We are usually a very sedate household, you know. Too sedate, we might have said...up until today...’
Colin gestured away her apology. ‘You would be surprised how often I minister to people with ailments arising from family upset. It is all part of life’s rich tapestry.’ He cleared his throat, levity vanishing on asking, ‘Has your sister been very distressed by what has gone on?’ He glanced towards the stairs rather wistfully, as though hoping Beatrice might appear and put his mind at ease.
‘She is calmer now the shock has passed.’
‘Would you let her know I said not to bother herself with potting the plants we dug out, but that I shall certainly return later.’
‘I’m sure Beatrice will like to see you.’ Elise smiled before turning apprehensive eyes on the door of her father’s study. In response to her wordless plea for encouragement Colin put a hand on her shoulder. ‘Go on,’ he urged gently before turning away and setting about his business.
* * *
‘I’m so sorry, Papa, that you have found out this way.’
‘Did you think such shameful behaviour wouldn’t eventually reach my ears?’ Walter demanded in a thin voice.
‘I hoped it would not.’
‘Well...at least you’re honest with your father.’ Walter ground his head fitfully against the chair back, patting his palms in a restless rhythm on his knees. ‘What were you thinking of? Have you learned nothing from your mother’s mistakes?’ he cried in muted anguish.
‘It is not the disaster it might have been.’ Elise moved swiftly closer to soothe her father with an explanation. ‘The viscount came here to speak to you and to me. He has asked me to marry him, Papa...and I intend to accept his proposal.’ There was barely a wobble to her voice hinting at the momentous decision she’d made, but her conflicting feelings were mirrored in her father’s face.
‘Well!’ Her father’s gruff incredulous snort accompanied the barked word. ‘He did not speak to me on that matter. And I’d sooner have any good intentions from the person promising them. He mentioned debts outstanding to me. You can’t blame a father for believing a rich fellow might tender cash as a remedy for disgracing a poor man’s daughter.’
‘You’re wrong, Papa, he isn’t like that...he’s an honourable gentleman.’ Elise shook her head, nervously clasping then unclasping her hands so they might flutter to emphasise her convictions. ‘The viscount has said nothing to you about his marriage proposal because...I’ve already refused him.’
Walter’s jaw sagged towards his chest. ‘You’ve refused him?’ He raised a limp wrist in exasperation. ‘You said a moment ago you intend to accept him.’
‘I’ve changed my mind and will agree to marry him now.’
Walter tipped up his tilted head, peered judiciously down his nose at his daughter. ‘Ah...I see...you do not love the fellow, but realise you are backed into a corner and can see no other way out.’ Walter shook his head and sighed. ‘I can see few alternatives either, miss, but if you need proof of where a lack of affection in a marriage might lead you need only cast your mind back on your own parents’ mésalliance.’
His colourless eyes softened on Elise, his expression altering in a way that merged all his past misery and humiliation into a sad little twitch of the lips. ‘I loved your mother dearly, but she merely tolerated me for as long as she could. So I shall not lecture you on which road to take as, once you set on it, it will be a long one. It must be your decision, my dear, and you need to decide whether to make it with head or heart. Of course, you have your sister’s future well-being in the palm of your hand. But choose wisely for yourself, too, for rancour and regret strengthen with the passing years and become a horrible burden.’
Elise’s chest tightened until it seemed her heart might shatter. Her father’s counsel had been a raw and personal account of the torment he’d suffered during a marriage of terrifying loneliness.
As Elise dipped her head, employing her fingertips to dash away tears, Walter reached for the bell on the edge of his desk and gave it a shake. ‘Let’s see what the fellow has to say for himself.’ Walter returned the brass implement to rest on wood. ‘Seducing a damsel comes at a price and I’d like to hear from his own lips that he’s prepared to pay it. After that it is up to the two of you what ensues.’ Walter clutched the chair arms and leaned forwards, an intense expression shaping his withered features. ‘But if you decline him, then discover you need the protection of his name, after all, because you are with child, and he attempts to wriggle free, viscount or no, I’ll hound him till the day I die with every breath I draw.’
‘He did not seduce me, Papa. I swear he didn’t...he did nothing wrong at all...’ Elise darted forwards to ease her father back in his chair as his agitation increased.
Walter allowed his daughter to settle him, drawing two deep breaths. A moment later he opened his eyes and hiked a grey eyebrow at her. ‘Nothing wrong at all...?’
Her father’s scepticism indicated he’d spotted the blush heating her cheeks, so Elise rattled off, ‘He kissed me...that’s all...’
‘Indeed...did he now...the prelude to seduction, as I recall,’ Walter remarked exceedingly drily.
Her next attempt to champion Alex was held on the tip of her tongue as Betty Francis appeared on the threshold.
‘Would you ask Lord Blackthorne to join us please, Mrs Francis?’
The woman obeyed with a bob, slanting an encouraging glance from under her eyebrows at Elise as she backed out of the study.
‘Lord Blackthorne is innocent of wrongdoing, Papa,’ Elise stressed quietly as she moved towards her father to sink on to her knees by his chair. She didn’t want Alex to enter to a barrage of unjust accusations.
Walter gazed into his daughter’s soulful amber eyes. ‘So you have said.’ He plucked up one of her hands, cradling it between dry palms before holding it on his knee. ‘You seem mightily keen, my dear, to protect this fellow you do not love or want to marry.’
‘He is a good man.’
‘And how did you and this good man come to be spotted alone together at Vauxhall, in a dark walkway?’ He picked up the letter from Dolly reposing by the bell on his desk. ‘I expect my sister exaggerates the matter, but naturally she is most concerned about repercussions for everybody, including herself.’
Elise massaged her throbbing forehead with a thumb and four quivering fingers. She didn’t want to get her sister into trouble. Neither did she want to lie. ‘On the evening we visited Vauxhall I lost sight of Beatrice when we were by the stage listening to the music,’ she started in a voice so husky it was virtually inaudible. ‘I panicked and thought she might have got lost and be unable to locate us all in the throng, so went to look for her.’
‘Why did you not seek help from Anthony Chapman? I’m sure he would have scouted for her, had you explained,’ Walter argued.
‘I didn’t want to worry anybody else or spoil their enjoyment. We were all having a nice time. It seemed...not the right thing to do.’
‘And the viscount? Was he helping you to look for your sister?’
‘Not exactly, Papa,’ Elise murmured. ‘But he, too, was on a mission to find somebody and we met by chance. It was not arranged between us...but we were seen together.’ She abruptly bowed her head, causing a thick wave of honey-blonde hair to curtain her pink cheek. ‘The vile man who has spread this gossip is Lord Blackthorne’s enemy. James Whittiker tried to extort money from the viscount in return for keeping quiet.’ She snapped up her face, revealing eyes alive with anger. ‘Alex refuse
d to be blackmailed, but we know now the villain was not bluffing. He has gone ahead and done his worst from greed and spite.’ Her impassioned words died away, but fury was still evident in the small fingers forming fists in her lap.
‘James Whittiker, eh?’ Walter nodded slowly. ‘Well, I know in describing him you do not malign his character. I remember that young pup at the age of about eighteen. He was remarkably snide and bumptious even then—’
Walter broke off on hearing the knock on the door. He immediately gave the call to enter.
Elise stood up slowly, smoothing crumples from her skirt and fidgeting tresses behind her ears, as Alex entered, closing the door behind him. Her heartbeat quickened as he turned and took that first look at her. He appeared tired, she realised with a pang that made her want to rush to comfort him. He had travelled for hours to see her and ask her to marry him. He’d also graciously offered to repay her father’s debts...debts that he’d no legal obligation to settle. For his pains he had received a cup of tea and vilification. Elise tried to signal with her beautifully expressive eyes that she was sorry, that she still needed his assistance in finding a solution to the woeful predicament in which they found themselves.
‘I have spoken to my daughter,’ Walter began without preamble, ‘and she tells me you have asked her to marry you.’
‘I have, sir,’ Alex confirmed in a low baritone that betrayed none of his feelings.
‘And why is that?’ Walter asked.
Alex’s dark eyes slid again to Elise, bathing her in a velvety intimacy before courteously returning to her father. ‘Your daughter has been compromised by me. I understand your sister has written to tell you about it now gossip has started spreading in town.’
‘That’s exactly it,’ Walter confirmed. ‘So...had you not been spotted together in awkward circumstances at Vauxhall there would have been no proposal?’
