by Anne Ashley
‘Her parents had not been aristocrats, merely wealthy. But that was sufficient inducement for corrupt local officials to trump up charges against them, and claim all property and possessions for the state. Louise’s father, having guessed what was coming, had the foresight to bury the family jewels, together with a considerable amount of gold coinage, in a chest in the garden, where he hoped to retrieve it once he had completed arrangements to get his family safely across to England. Unfortunately they were all taken into custody before he could effect the escape.
‘Charvet had had the foresight to tell his wife and children where he had hidden the loot, and Charles, under cover of darkness, spirited Louise back to her home in order to retrieve the family coffers. Meanwhile, I accompanied Henri to a certain French village on the coast and arranged for a fishing vessel to take us back across the Channel. Charles and Louise arrived two days later, and we all returned to England without having to contend with further difficulties, except perhaps a touch of seasickness.’ He shuddered at the memory. ‘It was a rough crossing, as I recall.’
Anyone listening to the recital might have been forgiven for supposing Lord Fincham had been recounting nothing of more moment than a pleasant Sunday afternoon jaunt in a park, so deliberately matter of fact had he sounded about it all. Consequently, it came as no very real surprise, when he happened to glance up in a certain someone’s direction, to find himself being regarded with no little amusement.
‘It is little wonder you didn’t plan a return visit, my lord. It sounds as though you had a devilish dull time of it all!’ Finely arching black brows adopted a decidedly mocking slant. ‘As I’m fairly certain you’ll not satisfy my curiosity by relating a more detailed account of what took place, would you at least satisfy my curiosity over what became of Henri…? Louise, I know, married your friend.’
‘But not immediately,’ he willingly revealed. ‘As I mentioned, when rescued she’d just turned sixteen, could only just make herself understood in English and had no family connections living in this country, not even distant ones. So Charles took it upon himself to place her in the care of his mother, who still resides with him, as it happens.
‘If my memory serves me correctly,’ he continued, after taking a moment to gather his thoughts, ‘Charles came into a sizeable property around that time, left to him by his uncle on his father’s side. As Charles much prefers life in the country, he sold the London home his late father had acquired years before, and removed, with his mother, to the property a few miles south of Deerhampton. So it was quite in order for him to install little Louise in his newly acquired home.’
He smiled reminiscently. ‘I think it would be true to say that thoughts of romance didn’t enter either of their heads, at least not at the beginning. Indeed, at first Louise looked upon him as an indulgent older brother. Sadly, she lost both of hers to Madame Guillotine. Young girls grow up quite quickly, however, and not too many years had passed before Louise viewed Charles quite differently.’
Again his lordship smiled. ‘Certainly I gained the distinct impression as the years went by that the relationship between the pair was changing. But, unlike me, Charles is a very noble fellow. Instead of whisking his beloved down the aisle without further ado, he proposed a Season in town so that she might experience the company of other young men. Being something of an expert where precious gems are concerned, he had persuaded her to retain certain items of jewellery they’d brought over from France, and sell other pieces, so that she might invest the money in order to offer a prospective husband a reasonable dowry. She’d been more than happy to allow him to deal with money matters. But being a sensible young Frenchwoman she had no intention of wasting any of his on the needless expense of a Season, when she had already decided upon the gentleman she wished to wed. Charles’s mother, of course, was delighted. She’d come to look upon Louise as the daughter she had never been blessed with. So as you can imagine, my dear Georgie, with the new arrival, it is undoubtedly an extremely happy household indeed!’
Typically female, she appeared very well pleased to learn this, then asked, ‘And what of Cousin Henri…? What became of him?’
‘Ah! That, my dear, is not such an edifying tale. He, sadly, turned out to be something of a wastrel. He hoped Charles would support him so that he might continue to live as he had in France. He soon realised his mistake. Charles did indeed support Henri financially for very many months in the hope that his cousin might find some useful occupation. Sadly, it was not to be, and so Charles withdrew his support. Although I have had no contact with him for several years, I believe Henri is still accepted on the very fringes of society. Just how he’s managed to support himself down the years, I have no notion, but I’d wager whatever he’s been doing could not withstand close scrutiny.’
‘Well, at least life improved for one of the exiles,’ Georgie remarked, before a sound caught her attention and she turned to see a carriage making its way along the drive. ‘You appear to have a visitor, my lord.’
The Viscount half-expected it to be his sister-in-law paying the call in response to his letter, and didn’t know whether to feel relieved or disappointed when he recognised the conveyance as that belonging to his nearest neighbour.
‘Now, what the deuce can he want, I wonder?’ his lordship muttered testily, experiencing a touch of irritation as he got to his feet. He’d enjoyed an extremely relaxing morning, and was loath to bring it to an end. ‘Unless I’m much mistaken, child, that’s Squire Wyndham. I’d best see what he wants, if only to maintain cordial relations.’
After collecting the rods himself, his lordship automatically grasped one handle of the basket so that they might carry it back to the house together. It never occurred to him for a moment to consider that his actions might be viewed as rather odd in some quarters. Certainly the young footman, despatched hotfoot from the house to inform Lord Fincham there was a visitor awaiting him, betrayed no surprise whatsoever as he relieved his master of his share of the burden. It was only after his lordship had entered the front parlour that he was made aware of his slight solecism.
‘Do you know, Fincham, it’s rather bad form to employ servants, then do the bally work yourself! Gives the lazy blighters ideas above their station, don’t you know?’
His lordship paused in the act of filling two glasses. Clearly his return to the house had been viewed from the window. It was on the tip of his tongue to tell the squire to mind his own business, but then he thought better of it. Sir Frederick could be a bluff, self-opinionated so-and-so on occasions, but there was no real malice in him. Relations between them had always been cordial enough, and Lord Fincham preferred to keep it that way.
‘We enjoyed an exceptionally profitable morning down at the trout stream. Consequently the basket was heavy. I hope I never become too high in the instep to carry my own rod, and lend a helping hand when needed… And to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit, Wyndham?’ he added, after handing the squire his wine.
‘Oh, nothing in particular, m’boy. Heard you were back and thought to pop across to see how you’re faring. Haven’t seen much of you at all this year.’ He took a moment to sample his wine. ‘Thought to kill two birds with one stone, so to speak. It was my little Mary’s birthday last week and I bought her a dapple-grey mare. She wanted to try it out, so I said she might ride over this way. Hope you don’t object? Said they might skirt the home wood and meet me here. Her elder sister’s with her, and our groom, of course. Didn’t want her about on the roads until she’d got the measure of her new mount. She lacks her sister’s confidence in the saddle.’
‘Of course I don’t object,’ his lordship didn’t hesitate to assure his visitor. He then wandered across to the window himself in time to catch sight of Georgie, yet again, heading out across the park in the general direction of the home wood, the ever-faithful Ronan at her heels this time.
As there was no possibility, of course, of his accompanying her, he set himself the task of entertaining his vi
sitor and joined him by the hearth. Sir Frederick was always a mine of local gossip. Not much went on in the locale that he didn’t get to hear about eventually, and so his lordship was soon being kept abreast of events.
‘And your sister-in-law’s away at the moment, so I’ve heard, Fincham?’
He confirmed it with a nod of his head. ‘Been staying with her mother for a few weeks, so I understand. I’m reliably informed she should be returning any day now.’
‘Well, I hope to God she ain’t carrying a load of jewels with her,’ the squire responded gruffly. ‘Seen the paper today, Fincham…? Only another robbery taken place on the King’s highway. Some famous pearls were taken this time. That’s the third this year, that I know of! It’s high time something was done about all these robberies. It’s getting so it ain’t safe to travel any great distance any longer!’
‘Whose pearls, I wonder?’ his lordship murmured, moderately interested. ‘I was up and about rather early this morning, so haven’t had a chance to glance at the journal. Was anybody hurt, do you know?’
Sir Frederick shook his head. ‘Not that I know of, no.’
‘Then whoever it was fared rather better than poor Grenville earlier in the year. He lost his life, you may recall.’
‘Yes, a bad business, a very bad business. Didn’t know him personally. Don’t spend a lot of time in the capital, as you know. Was he a particular friend of yours, Fincham?’
‘I wouldn’t go as far as to say that, no. But I certainly knew him well. He was a member of my club, so we bumped into each other from time to time, as you can imagine.’ He frowned as a recent memory returned. ‘I was reminded of him only the other week. When I first heard about his death I suppose I felt it was damned bad luck to be travelling at the time, but now, after this most recent attack… It certainly makes one wonder. Several people, myself included, knew he would be taking the famous Grenville diamonds back to his country home. He’d brought them to London with him for some reason or other, though I cannot now recall why.’
It was at this point that his lordship detected a raised female voice in the hall, and so wasn’t unduly surprised when, a moment later, the squire’s elder daughter burst into the room. One glance was sufficient to assure him all was far from well. For once she was not perfectly groomed. Numerous strands of fair hair were hanging wildly down her back, and her face, clearly tear-stained, was streaked with grime. Throwing herself into her father’s arms, she began crying anew rather noisily.
‘My dear child, whatever’s amiss?’
It was only natural that the squire should be concerned. His lordship, on the other hand, was less convinced by the renewed bout of weeping. Perhaps it was his innate scepticism where the fair sex was concerned that was coming into play, for it seemed to him as though the display was rather theatrical.
‘It—it was one of Lord Fincham’s servants, Papa,’ she at last revealed in a pathetically throbbing voice. ‘Mary permitted me to ride her new mare, you see, and I was trying to persuade the creature to ford a shallow stream by his lordship’s home wood, when this horrid boy appeared from nowhere, and hauled me from the saddle, calling me all sorts of terrible names, and even threatening to use the crop on me. I—I was so frightened.’
With the exception of one stable lad, and two of the head gardener’s underlings, only one of his lordship’s employees might be described as a boy. Yet, something about the account just didn’t ring true. Georgie was quite capable of losing her temper on occasions and wasn’t afraid to speak her mind. But going out of her way to interfere in matters that were none of her concern…? No, his lordship decided, she wouldn’t do that. Not unless there was a very good reason for her to do so.
‘And where, may I ask, was the groom engaged to protect you all this time?’ the Viscount enquired, while the squire appeared as if he were attempting to suppress an explosion of wrath.
This point, however, did succeed in capturing his interest. ‘Yes, by gad! Where was he, Clarissa? Why didn’t he protect you?’
‘Well, Papa, he tried his best to do so,’ she answered, staring up at him through damp lashes, ‘only the boy had a fearsome dog with him that growled so loudly we all thought it might attack.’
‘By heavens, Fincham! The whelp deserves a sound thrashing!’
‘Ah, but which one?’ his lordship returned. ‘The boy or the dog? The bond between them has become much stronger than even I had supposed.’
This distinct lack of sympathy for his daughter’s recent ordeal, understandably enough, didn’t commend itself to the doting parent, whose face turned a more virulent shade of purple.
‘Confound it, sir! Do you consider this a matter for levity, for I tell you plainly I do not! Had I been there at the time, I would have taken the skin of the boy’s back!’
‘Then it is most fortunate for you that you were not there,’ his lordship returned in an ominously quiet tone. ‘Had you laid so much as a finger on my page, you would have had me to contend with.’
For a few moments it seemed as though the squire was incapable of uttering a coherent word. Then he managed to say in an astonished tone, ‘Are you trying to tell me, sir, that you approve your servant’s behaviour?’
‘Not at all,’ the Viscount was swift to assure. ‘But neither do I mete out punishment without discovering all the facts. You may be sure I shall not let matters rest and shall question my page at some length. And now, Wyndham, I would suggest you take your daughter home, for she is looking decidedly pale now. I’m sure she will recover her spirits more quickly in her mother’s care.’
After ringing for his butler and requesting him to show his visitors out, his lordship awaited the servant’s return at the window. From where he stood he could see part of the perimeter to the home wood, but, alas, no sign of Georgie.
‘Has my page returned to the house, Brindle, do you happen to know?’ he asked, after detecting the click of the door.
‘Not to my knowledge, my lord. I haven’t seen him since he brought the fish into the house. Might I be permitted to say a very fine catch, sir. Cook is delighted.’
The praise, far from giving his lordship pleasure, gave rise to a pang of sadness, for he knew there would be no further fishing expeditions. The incident in the home wood—and he was sure something must have occurred—had forced him to acknowledge that even here on the estate Georgie’s well-being could not be assured. Her disguise, far from protecting her, left her open to a different form of abuse. Sir Frederick might well have vented his spleen in a display of physical violence had he happened along at the time, as might any other over-protective father. Only by confining her to the house could he ever hope to ensure her complete safety, and he could never see her tamely submitting to that kind of treatment for any length of time. Nevertheless, until he could find the courage to confront her, to reveal what he had known from the first, he would need to resort to just such a tactic.
‘When he does return, Brindle, you are to order him to his room, where he is to remain until I send for him. Is that clear?’
A moment’s silence, then, ‘Very good, my lord. The steward is here and is awaiting you in the library.’
‘Inform him that I shall join him presently.’
The afternoon was well advanced before his lordship had finished dealing with matters relating to the estate. No sooner had the steward departed than he was informed that Sir Frederick Wyndham had surprisingly made a return call, and had been patiently awaiting his lordship’s pleasure in the front parlour. For a second or two it did cross the Viscount’s mind to refuse to see him, but then, in an attempt to maintain the cordial relationship, he thought better of it.
Given that the squire had left that morning in high dudgeon, his lordship was rather surprised to see him enter the library appearing somewhat chastened.
‘It’s no good beating about the bush, Fincham,’ he announced, more like his usual bluff self. ‘I’m here to apologise on my daughter Clarissa’s behalf, and sincerely hope you
didn’t take my advice where that young servant of yours is concerned. Now, I’m not saying he oughtn’t to mind his manners when dealing with his betters…but, well, from what my little Mary tells me, he wasn’t as high-handed as my elder daughter would have had us believe. In fact, the young fellow saw Mary safely back home after Clarissa had ridden off, taking the groom with her. So what I say is we should forget about the whole business.’
Leaning back in his chair, his lordship regarded his visitor in amused silence for a moment. ‘You have the advantage of me, Wyndham,’ he admitted. ‘I have yet to question my page about the incident. Before I do so, I am curious to know your younger daughter’s version of events.’
The squire once again appeared decidedly ill at ease and began to beat a tattoo on the desk top with his fingertips. His lordship, however, refused to ease his visitor’s obvious discomfiture by announcing that no more need be said. Seemingly something in his expression betrayed his determination to have his curiosity satisfied, for eventually Sir Frederick ceased his fidgeting and leaned back in his chair.
‘Oh, very well, Fincham. According to what Mary tells me, Clarissa was fretting to ride the new mare. Being a good-natured gel, Mary agreed, and they exchanged mounts. Apparently Clarissa then attempted to ford the stream on the outskirts of the wood, but the mare would have none of it and refused to go into the water. It was at this point Clarissa had recourse to her crop.’
He sighed, clearly not approving his elder daughter’s behaviour. ‘That mare is a good-natured creature. I chose her myself. But I suppose it was only to be expected that she would take exception to the over-use of a crop and succeeded in unseating Clarissa, which was no mean feat, as she is a competent horsewoman. It was at this point your lad arrived on the scene.’
Again he sighed. ‘Apparently it was he who succeeded in calming the mare. Wonderful he was with her, according to Mary. But no sooner had he soothed the creature than Clarissa—confound her!—demanded to remount. Mary refused permission, but I’m afraid my elder daughter can be headstrong on occasions. Taking Mary’s part, the lad intervened again and pushed Clarissa away. She stumbled over a tree root or some such and then ordered my groom to intercede on her behalf.’
