The miles had melted as though by magic and within half an hour she could see the roofs of Lewes beginning to appear. She wondered if the duchess was already at the crossroads.
A figure appeared just breasting the misty line of the horizon; it must be Charlotte come to meet her. That was unexpected, but it would be companionable to ride into the town together. As the form drew nearer, though, she could see the figure was not that of a woman and began to feel uneasy. She was still a long way from any dwelling and there was no other soul in sight. The man was cloaked against the morning chill, but bareheaded; in the shaft of sunlight that flooded suddenly over the hills, she could see the colour of gold. It could not be. It was.
‘Good morning, Miss de Silva,’ the figure hailed her.
She found herself clenching her fists until her fingernails drew blood. Was she never to be free of his intrusions? As he drew closer, she saw his face. It was unsmiling and his bow was brusque.
‘Forgive my trespass, ma’am. I have been at pains to absent myself, but find that today I must break my own rules.’
She recovered from the shock of seeing him sufficiently to execute a minimal bow. By now they had both come to a halt, their horses beginning to sidle against each other.
‘And why have you found it necessary to encroach yet once more, Mr Marchmain?’ she enquired in a freezing voice.
‘I understand that you have engaged yourself in a contest. I’ve come to warn you that you should not take part.’
Her eyebrows lifted. ‘I was not aware that I had appointed you the arbiter of my conduct.’
‘It will not be I who judges your conduct,’ he said grimly. ‘Although it will be judged—and harshly.’
‘And why is that, pray?’ Her anger was tangible and filled the space between them.
He allowed himself a slight smile. ‘Ladies do not engage in races, nor do they risk breaking their necks as you assuredly will.’
‘What makes you so certain?’ His smile was infuriating her. ‘Your arrogance is breathtaking. You should know that I am accounted an excellent horsewoman.’
He did not respond directly, but instead said bluntly, ‘Have you seen Keere Street?’
‘No.’
‘Then you should before you accuse me of arrogance. To race a horse there would place you in certain peril—and not just you, but that delightful mare you are riding.’
‘I understand that it has been done before,’ she retorted.
‘You refer to Prinny’s little escapade, I collect. That nearly ended in disaster and he had a coach behind him to act as a brake. He is also a prince of the realm and princes tend to be forgiven their foibles.’
‘Are you saying it would not be seemly for me to follow his lead?’
‘Not just unseemly, but quite shocking. If you value your reputation and that of your father, you should abandon this race. I cannot imagine how you ever agreed to such a foolhardy exploit.’
‘I agreed because the proposal came from a person I thought trustworthy—someone you introduced me to,’ she said bitingly.
‘That does not absolve you from making sensible decisions. I reiterate, give up this race immediately!’
She bristled with annoyance at his words, but his tone was urgent and carried conviction. Astride a powerful black stallion, he looked magnificent. He also looked serious. She had never previously encountered him in such a severe mood and, though still smarting from his unwelcome interference, she was beginning to take notice of what he said. But how on earth had he come upon her here, miles from anywhere? And how did he know about the race?
‘This morning’s arrangements were secret,’ she protested, ‘and I cannot understand how you knew of them.’
‘All of Brighton knows of them. The whole town is buzzing with the scandal. There is even a book being run.’
He saw her puzzlement. ‘Wagers, Miss de Silva, bets on who will win. Regretfully I have to report that you are seen as an unlikely victor.’
His light tone did not disguise the gravity of his news and she was appalled by the turn of events.
‘I don’t understand how this is,’ she faltered. ‘How could the race have become common knowledge?’
His gaze swept over her, at first sardonic and then with something approaching sympathy. ‘No, I imagine you don’t.’
‘We had an agreement,’ she stammered. ‘It was to be just between the two of us.’
He was silent, but his face made plain that he knew everything.
‘And the duchess—surely she would not be a part of anything openly scandalous?’ Domino was still groping her way through the dark, trying to make sense of the morning’s bewildering events.
‘I doubt that she would,’ he replied tight-lipped.
‘But she is meeting me.’
‘Yes?’ He smiled derisively, his gold-flecked eyes glittering in the sunlight now flooding over the downland.
‘I have an appointment with her at the crossroads in just a few minutes.’
‘Then allow me to keep it for you.’
She gasped. ‘But—’
‘My advice,’ he interrupted roughly, ‘is to turn around and ride back to Brighton immediately. Return to Marine Parade as fast as you can and say nothing to anyone about this day’s doings. To the world, you never left your father’s house.’
‘But nobody will believe that, especially not the people who have placed bets.’ Her voice wavered.
He looked at the long dark lashes downcast over soft cheeks, the full lips trembling despite all her efforts at control, and had a strong desire to punch someone.
‘It was a joke, was it not?’ he suggested encouragingly. ‘A joke got up between you and the duchess. You never meant it seriously. Why would you willingly risk your life in such a foolhardy escapade?’
‘And the duchess?’
‘She will tell her own tale, no doubt.’
‘But she will still be waiting for me.’
‘I will undertake to put her mind at rest,’ he said caustically. ‘I will ride to the crossroads this instant and tell her that you have reconsidered the propriety of taking part in such a race.’
‘I see you have it all pat.’ Her fear and frustration came tumbling out.
‘Don’t be angry, Domino.’ His voice softened and she felt herself once more caressed by velvet. ‘You have been misled, but the situation is not irreparable. Allow me to be of some small service.’
His sincerity was evident and, battered by what she had just learned, she could only acquiesce. ‘I thank you, sir,’ she responded in a small voice.
She had no wish to be further indebted to Joshua Marchmain, yet he was offering her a way out of the morass into which she had plunged. How could she have been so stupid as to involve herself in something so evidently scandalous? How could the whole town have known of her intentions? Joshua had lodged no accusation, but it was clear that he believed Charlotte Severn to be the malign influence behind her troubles. If so, his intimacy with the woman made him the very man to deal with the problem.
She turned the horse to retrace her steps, all pleasure in the lovely morning gone. She had been foolish enough to believe Charlotte’s repeated assurances that their race would remain secret and in her innocence had trusted the older woman to be sincere. She had been betrayed, but, if she were honest, she herself had contributed richly to that betrayal. She had been so intent on beating Charlotte, on avenging her humiliation at Steine House, her humiliation over Joshua, that she had lost all sense of perspective. She must never again make such a mistake. In the meantime all she could do was to rely on Joshua to stifle the gossip that must already be circulating.
* * *
As soon as he reached the crossroads, he saw Charlotte pacing irritab
ly up and down, her horse grazing by the roadside. At the sound of his approach she wheeled around, her face startled at the sight of this unexpected visitor.
Joshua reined in beside her. ‘Your Grace, how charming to see you out and about on such a fine morning. I trust you are enjoying your ride.’ His voice was calm and gave no hint of his feelings.
The duchess’s eyes narrowed. ‘And why are you riding so early, Joshua? That is most unusual.’
‘I can rise with the best of people if I have a reason.’ His smile was ominous.
‘And what would that be?’ she enquired sweetly.
‘Let us say, a little pre-emptive action.’
‘I see. And since when have you played the shining knight?’
‘Since I found myself wading through the festering garbage of a corrupt Court.’ His eyes glittered.
She turned white and raised her whip hand in fury as though to strike.
Unperturbed, he continued, ‘But don’t let me detain you. For myself, I have friends to meet—I believe our rendezvous is Keere Street, somewhat singular, but one can never account for the whims of one’s friends.’
And with that he rode off into Lewes, leaving the duchess furiously snatching at her horse’s bridle.
* * *
A crowd of young bucks had already gathered at Keere Street and there were even a few grey heads among the crowd, Joshua noted. What people would do for a titbit of scandal in the hothouse environment the Regent created around him!
‘Good morning, gentlemen,’ he hailed them, relaxed as ever.
‘Morning, Marchmain, come to see the fun?’ asked one budding young dandy, almost muffled by a shirt collar whose starched points reached to his cheek bones.
‘I fear not.’
‘Why ever not?’
Joshua looked with distaste at the coarse-looking man who had spoken. His high colour signalled his partiality for claret. ‘That Spanish filly—they say she’s an out and outer on a horse, but I’m still backing the duchess. Tactics will win the day!’ he rumbled floridly.
‘Quite possibly, but not this day. Neither lady will be coming.’
‘How can that be?’ A sporting gentleman in a high-crowned beaver hat and a driving coat of many capes was indignant.
‘It was all a joke, my dear fellows.’ Joshua was at his negligent best. ‘You cannot seriously imagine that two ladies of such impeccable virtue would engage in horse racing!’
‘You mean the whole thing is a hum,’ the dandy said disconsolately.
‘The joke is on us, I am afraid. The ladies have proved that men will place a wager on just about anything.’
There were some disgruntled mutterings among the group, but Joshua cut it short by suggesting that one of the present company might like to pick up the gauntlet themselves. As one they peered down the steep hill, watching it bump and curl on its way, finally to vanish in a dark pit of shadow.
Lord Wivenhoe summed up what they were all thinking.
‘We’d have to be mad! Let’s get a heavy wet—the Lewes Arms should be open by now.’
Chapter Five
Joshua rode slowly towards Brighton, well pleased with his morning’s work. He was confident that he had managed to quash the torrent of gossip that might have poured unhindered if Domino had made an appearance at Keere Street. Now he’d had time to think, he could see Charlotte’s strategy clearly. She would have delivered the girl into the lion’s den, then stood back and protested her own innocence while the lions devoured the lamb. He smiled wryly. Domino was hardly a lamb. She had provoked him at every opportunity and by rights he should have left her to fend for herself; she had made no secret of the fact that she despised him, had even called him a rake to his face. So why put himself out? She was charming, but he had known far more beautiful women. She was interesting and intelligent, but she was also young and untried. So what was it? She was a challenge, perhaps, no simpering miss certainly. And though her impulsiveness led her into danger, it sprang from a fresh, unconstrained spirit. She still possessed a joy in life which he had long ago lost—whether she was dreaming by a quiet sea or walking windblown on the downs or taking up this ridiculous wager, fearing it, no doubt, but ready to brave her fortune. How long would that free spirit survive the bludgeoning of an arranged marriage?
She had begun to penetrate his heart, he realised, and that was troubling. When she was close he found himself captivated, unable to think or act the man he had been for so many years. He looked deep into those expressive eyes and wanted them to speak only to him, longed for them to sparkle with mischief just for him, to cloud with passion just for him. He must put an end to such feelings and make sure that she made no further inroads into his life. He had no wish to be drawn into the kind of intimacy that for years he’d been at pains to shun. It could only lead to disaster, and all-embracing disaster at that. Once upon a time he had been overpowered by youthful passion, had convinced himself that love had finally bloomed in a hitherto barren life. He had been heedless, inviting the spread of vicious scandal, piling further hurt on his despairing family and sacrificing the one friendship he had learned to treasure. That first and last wretched experience of love must surely be a lesson for life: never tangle with innocence. He was fairly sure that he need not fear Domino’s attachment; this morning’s events would have done nothing to change her attitude. He would still be a rake to her, a man to avoid.
Charlotte Severn would also avoid him. Their liaison had grown stale and unsavoury months ago, and this recent encounter was as good a way as any to draw a final line beneath it. He had suspected Charlotte to be venal, but had not realised before the depths to which she would stoop. He had mistrusted her intentions towards Domino since that evening of the soirée. Recently she and that cur, Moncaster, had had their heads together a little too often and when news of the race reached him, he had guessed that the two of them were involved. But why Charlotte should wish to destroy the young girl mystified him. Even less understandable was why Moncaster should be privy to the plot. He wondered if either of them would be waiting for him at the Pavilion—that would be an interesting conversation!
* * *
The duchess, though, had ridden straight to Steine House and found Leo Moncaster pacing up and down the pavement, his face wolfishly eager. She swept past him and up the steps to the open front door. They walked together into the drawing room and for the first time he had a clear view of her face and knew that something had gone badly amiss.
‘She never came,’ she said baldly. ‘Marchmain must have intercepted her and persuaded her to return home.’
‘And you let him!’
‘What else could I do? She was already riding back when he met me at the crossroads. It was clear that he would expose my part in the plan if I did not also return to Brighton immediately.’
‘And…?’
‘And he must have ridden on to Keere Street and told the men there some tale to account for both our absences,’ she concluded wearily.
Moncaster began his pacing once more, this time up and down the pale grey drawing-room carpet, leaving a dark tread in his wake. His face was thunderous and he bit his lip constantly, his agitation finally spilling over into words.
‘It is hard to see how you could have managed this more badly,’ he exploded.
‘What do you mean?’
‘You were the one who insisted that this would work. You would humiliate the girl, you said. Now look—she has humiliated you!’
‘She has not. And let me remind you that you agreed to the plan; in fact, I recall that at the racecourse when we spoke of it you expressed complete confidence.’
‘Clearly I was wrong to rely on your ability to bring this tiresome girl to account. From now onwards, I will be the one making decisions.’
�
�As you wish. I have no further interest in the matter.’
‘You had sufficient interest until today.’
‘It is unlikely that after this morning’s events I will enjoy any kind of friendship with Joshua,’ she said dully, ‘and since that is so, I no longer care what happens to the girl.’
Moncaster moved towards her and took her hands. ‘Do you not think, Your Grace,’ he said courteously, his tone markedly different, ‘that Mr Marchmain might still be persuaded back into the fold if this wretched girl were no longer around?’
The duchess remained silent, but broke free from his hold and walked towards the door.
‘In any case, don’t you want revenge?’ he called after her retreating figure.
Charlotte stopped mid-room. Deep in thought, she beat a tattoo with her riding crop against the blue velvet of her modish ensemble.
‘Can you deliver me revenge, Leo?’ she asked slowly.
‘I can. We have been too complicated. It needs something simple, something obvious.’
‘You have an idea?’
‘I have. Will you trust me with it?’
‘As you have been at pains to point out,’ she responded tartly, ‘my plan has failed dismally, so what have I to lose?’
* * *
Domino was lucky to regain Marine Parade before any member of the household became aware of her absence, for it had taken time to return her horse to the stables and walk back to the seafront. Slipping into the house through the rear entrance, she heard muted sounds coming from the kitchen, but no servant appeared to embarrass her. She was still unhooking the last gold fastenings of her riding dress, when Flora knocked on the door with her morning chocolate. Seeing her maid’s perplexed face, she gestured to the heavy gown she had just removed.
‘I have changed my mind about riding this morning, Flora. I feel too tired to go far today.’
The girl looked concerned, but hung up the riding dress without comment and very soon left Domino to her thoughts.
Society's Most Scandalous Rake Page 9
