by Anne Herries
Since then Jack had come to realise that a man’s feelings might continue to be strong about things he felt deeply for his life long and he’d understood how his father must feel having lost the woman he’d loved with such passion. But they’d never talked again so frankly, for the next morning his father had set out on his ill-fated journey to his estates in the north.
Jack shook his head, dismissing the nagging suspicion that still lingered even after all these years. Somehow he’d never been able to accept that his father’s death had been the result of a simple accident, yet there had never been any proof that he could discover that it was anything else. After all, who would want him dead—unless...Lillian’s husband, who also had estates in the north? If his father had been murdered because of that affair...
No, it was a ridiculous thought. The Marquis of Rockingham was an older man, even then not a well man...surely he could not have had anything to do with either his wife’s death or her lover’s?
Jack dismissed the thought. Rockingham had passed away a year ago; he was unlikely to discover the truth of it now.
He yawned and rose from the deep armchair that had him lazing by the dying embers of a fire, lit to take the chill from a cool spring evening, and walked up the stairs to his bedchamber, where Cummings had laid out his night things. He’d sent his valet to bed hours ago, and after struggling with his boots for a while abandoned the effort and stretched out on the bed fully clothed. Closing his eyes, he drifted into a troubled sleep...seeing a lonely stretch of road and a coach suddenly coming to an abrupt halt as a man sprang out in front of it. Even as the horses reared in fright at the gunshot and the coach went tumbling over into the ravine, taking all its passengers with it, Jack saw that there was no blockage of any kind on the road.
He sat up and cried out, staring into the darkness for a moment before realising that he was in his own bedroom. Telling himself he was a fool, he lay down again, puzzling over what he’d seen. But dreams were distorted by one’s thoughts. All the reports said that there had been an obstruction on the road.
He was a damned fool to dwell on such thoughts. At the time, he’d employed agents to make enquiries and everyone told him the same story—it was just his foolish imagination...he must stop torturing himself and go to sleep.
* * *
‘We played for a few guineas,’ Matt told Charlotte the next morning. ‘I won two games and lost three, so in actual fact I lost no more than five guineas. Yet it was a marvellous evening and I made some good friends. I’m engaged to dine with Phipps at his club next Monday.’
‘I am glad you enjoyed yourself,’ Charlotte said and smiled. She was pleased that Captain Delsey had kept his word to her. ‘You can afford to lose a few guineas now and then, Matt—but don’t let that dreadful man entice you into a game with him again.’
‘Phipps warned me not to play too deep anywhere. He says that one can have a pleasant evening playing for small stakes as we did last night, or simply hazarding a few guineas against the dice. As long as you know when to stop—and of course, many gentlemen just go to watch the play and drink, or place a small bet on a sporting wager.’
Charlotte nodded, relieved that her brother seemed to have learned his lesson. She hoped that they had brushed through the affair pretty well and that nothing more would be heard of it, but it was not long before her hopes were dashed.
* * *
That evening when Captain Delsey arrived as her father’s guest, the talk at the table was of a spectacular jewel theft.
‘Harding swears the necklace was worth five thousand pounds,’ Mr Cavendish said importantly. Charlotte heard the note of glee in his voice and wondered why the widower should so dislike Lord Harding. ‘Of course, only a fool would leave the thing lying on his dressing chest when he went out for the evening.’
‘It does seem careless,’ Sir Mordred said. ‘Yet it makes one uncomfortable to think there are such wicked rogues abroad in London—after all, one should be able to leave one’s possessions without fear of them being stolen.’
‘Whoever took it must have been a bold piece,’ Mr Cavendish went on and now the note of glee intensified. ‘They say the thief climbed a drainpipe at the side of the house—and the footprints beneath it were small, which makes Patterson’s claim that he saw the thief climb out of the window and chased her through the park until she escaped more believable.’
‘She? Are you saying the thief was a woman?’ Lady Stevens was shocked. ‘Surely he was mistaken? A woman could not have done such a thing.’
The censure in her father’s voice, and the horror in her mother’s, made Charlotte squirm with embarrassment. She did not dare to look at her brother or at Captain Delsey, for fear that she might give herself away with a sign that she was the guilty party. Her mother’s friend Mrs Kent and her daughter, Anne, made noises that showed they also thought it outrageous that anyone could suspect a woman of doing such a thing.
Charlotte kept her silence. She had been inclined to think of her act of defiance as a mad prank to rescue her brother, but now she realised how wicked she had been and what everyone would think of her if they ever guessed the truth.
‘I do not doubt that Patterson was in his cups,’ Captain Delsey said, twirling his glass as if to look at the ruby liquid inside it. ‘A small youth is my guess...thieves choose a young boy to climb through open windows, as a rule, and some of them may look a little feminine before they reach puberty.’
‘Yes, that sounds more reasonable,’ Charlotte’s mother agreed. ‘I am sure it could not have been a young girl.’
‘If a girl was responsible, it will be one of those wretches from the slums.’ Matt spoke jerkily, as if half-afraid to open his mouth. ‘I think Delsey is right and it was a youth.’
Charlotte glanced at her brother and away. He looked tense and a little pale and she did not want to catch his eye lest he give himself and her away. Turning her gaze towards Captain Delsey, she saw that he was looking at her oddly and her heart caught. She tried to meet his gaze, but her cheeks felt hot and she was obliged to look away. He believed it was she who had climbed into Lord Harding’s house and must suspect that it was also she who had taken the necklace.
How he must despise her! Charlotte felt ashamed, even though she knew that she’d had little choice. If she had not acted promptly, her brother would have been labelled a cheat and a fraud—and yet she had made herself a thief and she did not much enjoy the feeling now that she had seen her parents’ reaction to the news.
Ought she to have tried to purchase the necklace instead of stealing it? Yet Matt swore he’d been cheated—and Charlotte had no means of paying his debt, for the sale of all her jewels would not raise the huge sum of four thousand pounds.
She raised her head defiantly, looking at Captain Delsey. Perhaps what she’d done was wrong, but there had been no other option open to her. She refused to feel guilty for rescuing Matt from certain scandal and disgrace.
‘I trust you are looking forward to the picnic on Friday, Miss Stevens?’ Captain Delsey said, his stern expression softening. ‘My sister is certainly looking forward to meeting you—and Julia has invited herself to the affair so you will have a friend to keep you company.’
Charlotte felt grateful for the change of subject and answered him with a smile. ‘Yes, she was certain your sister would not mind, sir. Matt is to drive her there and they will sit with us. Miss Handley called here this morning to make certain we knew of the arrangement, though we spoke of it previously.’
It was the signal for the conversation to turn and various functions were discussed until the ladies withdrew and the gentlemen lingered over their port.
* * *
Charlotte was kept busy serving tea and coffee, and by the time the gentlemen joined them, she was perfectly composed. However, when she took a seat by the window, her heart jumped as Captain Delsey
approached and asked permission to sit beside her.
‘May I take you driving tomorrow, Miss Stevens?’ he asked, but the look in his eyes told her that it was more an instruction than a question.
‘I am engaged to your cousin for tea,’ she informed him in a voice that was slightly above a whisper. ‘If the morning would suit...?’
‘Yes, that will do perfectly,’ he said. ‘We should talk, Miss Stevens.’
‘Yes...’ She gave him a look of appeal. ‘I know we must.’
‘Tomorrow, then.’ He rose to his feet. ‘Matt, would you do me the honour of walking across the green? I thought we might have a game of billiards...if it should please you?’
‘I should be pleased to,’ Matt said, shooting a glance at his sister that told her he was hoping for a word alone with her later.
Charlotte watched the two gentlemen leave together. It was not long after that Mr Cavendish came to her and asked if he might sit with her for a moment. She inclined her head, watching as he rather fussily perched beside her on the edge of the sofa.
‘I had wondered if I might steal a few words with you, Miss Stevens? I should like to take you driving one day, if you are willing?’
‘How kind of you, sir,’ Charlotte said. ‘I am engaged for the next few days, but perhaps one day next week?’
‘Yes, of course. I shall ask you again,’ he said. ‘How are you enjoying your stay in London?’
‘Very well thus far,’ she replied. ‘We seem to have engagements for most evenings now and several during the day.’
‘Yes, I am certain, though your papa has promised that you will attend my little affair next week. Just a soirée, you understand?’
‘How lovely,’ Charlotte said, gave her hand to be kissed as he stood to take his leave, and then rose and went over to her mother. ‘I shall go to bed now, Mama.’
‘Yes, for Anne and her mama are leaving now,’ Lady Stevens said. ‘I shall not be long after you. I shall come in to say goodnight, my dear.’
Charlotte nodded, wondering what her mother would have to say that could not wait for the morning. Quite possibly a further warning not to like Captain Delsey too much, she thought.
Mama had no idea that the gentleman in question could not possibly have any respect for her and was likely to cool the connection as soon as he could do so politely.
* * *
‘I do not wish to spoil your pleasure, dearest,’ Mama said when she entered the bedroom to say goodnight. ‘I am not too old to remember that it is flattering to be noticed by a gentleman such as Captain Delsey—but please remember that he is by reputation a flirt and unlikely to make you an offer. He is also a viscount and heir to the marquis, and will look higher for his wife.’
‘I have not forgotten your warning, Mama,’ Charlotte replied dutifully. ‘But surely it is better not to seem too particular towards any gentleman until one of them makes me an offer.’
‘Yes, of course.’ Mama sighed and patted her arm. ‘How I wish that none of this was necessary, my love. You should be at liberty to follow your heart, although you would be unwise to give it to a man who may treat your gift with contempt.’
‘I do not think you need worry, Mama. I believe I shall receive an offer I can accept before too long.’
‘I must admit that I am counting on it. Otherwise your poor papa may find himself having to sell most of the land and almost certainly the house—and then I have no idea how we shall live.’
Charlotte blinked hard as her mother left the room, blocking the ridiculous tears. She felt so guilty, because of her reckless behaviour everything that Mama had striven for could so easily be lost.
She shrugged on her dressing robe and went into her own little sitting room, waiting for Matt’s knock, but though she waited for two hours he did not come and she decided to go to bed, feeling too tired to sit up any longer. She’d been so certain he wanted to talk to her, but he must have forgotten and gone off to bed. Feeling a little annoyed with her brother, she went through to her bedroom and tumbled into bed.
Charlotte drifted away into a deep sleep, though once during the night she had a troubling dream that woke her. When she was awake she could not recall what had disturbed her—except that she thought someone had been threatening her.
It was her guilty conscience, of course. She closed her eyes, deciding to think of her drive in the park with Captain Delsey and was soon drifting into a peaceful sleep.
* * *
In the morning she felt a little tired and would have liked to snuggle down for longer, but her maid had been asked to wake her and, confronted with a pot of hot chocolate and some soft rolls and honey, Charlotte made a good breakfast.
Her situation was an uneasy one, for as a young unmarried girl any hint of scandal attached to her name might be the end of her chances of a good marriage. What that would do to her family was unthinkable.
Charlotte supposed that she must do as her mama expected of her and accept the first proposal made to her, which seemed likely to come from Sir Percival. A deep sigh escaped her, because although she did not dislike him, he had not touched her heart.
Putting away her troubled thoughts, Charlotte summoned her maid and proceeded to wash and dress for the day. At least this morning she could enjoy a drive to the park...or could she?
It depended on how much of her story Captain Delsey had guessed.
* * *
By the time that Captain Delsey’s knock came at the door, Charlotte was downstairs and dressed in a pretty gown of heavy old-gold silk and a pelisse of white. Her straw bonnet was trimmed with white ribbons and she wore dark-blue jean boots and white lace gloves. In her hands she carried a delicate parasol of white lace with an ivory handle. The look in the captain’s eyes told her that he appreciated the picture of angelic innocence that she presented and the quirk of his brow hinted that he was rigorously controlling his amusement. He himself looked the picture of sartorial elegance in tight-fitting buckskins and a jacket that showed off his fine shoulders, his linen pristine.
‘How prompt of you, Miss Stevens,’ he said. ‘Most young ladies keep one waiting at least ten minutes.’
‘I am not most young ladies.’
‘Indeed, you are not,’ he replied and bowed over her hand before assisting her into his curricle. Once he had the reins in his hands he dismissed his groom, giving her a brief glance. ‘I believe we may dispense with Fred’s services. I am not likely to seduce you on a sedate drive to the park and back.’
‘Even had you a mind to, it would not be practical,’ she answered in the same mocking tone he’d used.
‘Oh, I have a mind to,’ he murmured. ‘You are bold, Miss Stevens, but still a lady and I do not seduce girls of good family who are hardly out of the schoolroom—even if they are provoking.’
‘How disappointing,’ Charlotte answered rashly, goaded into an unwise reply by his challenge. ‘One had heard so much of your reputation—but of course, people exaggerate these things.’
‘A hit,’ he acknowledged with a laugh. ‘My reputation is not undeserved, Miss Stevens, at least in so far as it touches the fact that I have broken hearts. It was never my intention, but it seems even a smile will encourage some foolish girls to think of marriage.’
‘Then they bring their heartache on themselves,’ she replied. ‘I for one would need more than a smile to break my heart—however enchanting it might be.’
‘That’s given me my own,’ he replied and she could see a tiny pulse flicking at his temple, as for a few moments he guided his horses through the press of traffic. After leaving the quiet square behind, they had met vehicles of all kinds, including a wagon loaded with sacks that had shed some of its load, causing congestion. Omnibuses, carriages, wagons and costers’ barrows crowded the roads for a while and during this time Charlotte was left to admire the
way the captain handled his horses and to reflect on the wisdom or otherwise of challenging him.
When at last he was at leisure to engage her in conversation again, she said, ‘Did my brother keep you late last evening, sir? I thought he wished to speak with me, but he did not come to my sitting room, as he usually does if we wish to be private.’
‘He refrained from disturbing you under my instruction.’
‘Your instruction?’ Charlotte turned her gaze on him in instant indignation. ‘May I ask what right you have to offer Matt advice, let alone instruction?’
‘Only what he gave me,’ Captain Delsey replied. ‘We had a frank talk, you see, Charlotte, and Matt confessed that your little escapade was his fault—but he also told me that he had begged you not to act so rashly. Apparently, you never mind him...have not done so since you were nine.’
‘He had no right to tell you anything.’
‘I had guessed most of it,’ he said. ‘Therefore he had little choice but to tell me the whole—and, once I had given him a set down for allowing his sister to behave so foolishly, he quite saw that he must accept my help in the matter.’
‘You are not to be my judge!’ Charlotte glared at him. ‘Pray take me home at once.’
‘I fear I cannot turn my horses here. We shall take a little trot about the park and then I shall of course return you to your mama.’
‘I want to get down. I refuse to be spoken to in this manner.’
‘Please do not make a scene,’ he advised patiently. ‘For my sake, if not your own. I do not care to be the subject of more scandal.’
‘You are impossible.’ She hunched her shoulder at him, but sat decorously enough as he turned into the park and let his horses slow to a gentle walk.
‘Now we may be comfortable,’ he said and seized the chance to glance at her. ‘Why are you so angry with me? Because I persuaded Matt to confess his part in the affair? You knew I had guessed it. Come, admit it, Charlotte. From the beginning I suspected that you were in it together. I saw Matt admit you to the house that night.’
