Lord Clifford's Dilemma

by Oliver, Marina

  'Annamarie! My lord, she has gone!'

  'Gone? Gone where?'

  'I don't know. Her room is empty. She crept out this morning before I was awake.'

  'Then no doubt the wretched girl is on one of her clandestine expeditions with someone unsuitable. I wash my hands of her. Now, I need to change out of these wet clothes. I will talk to you later.'

  To his relief his valet was busy preparing a hot bath, and he sank into the water with a sigh of pleasure. Within minutes, however, his thoughts were churning as he wondered for the hundredth time what he might do to control his wayward ward, apart from lock her up. He would gladly hand her over to any man who wanted her, but an awkward sense of duty made him add the proviso that it had to be a man who could control her. Henry Markby was not such a man.

  When the water grew too cool for comfort he heaved himself out of the bath with a sigh, towelled himself, donned dry clothes and went downstairs. Dawson met him in the hall.

  'My lord, Miss Kirkland returned five minutes ago, in a carriage. She said she was weary and did not wish to be disturbed.'

  'Then she will not get her wish!'

  He turned and ran back up the stairs to his ward's bedroom. After a perfunctory knock he turned the handle, to find the door was locked. He thumped on it more vigorously.

  'Annamarie, if you do not open this door at once I will break it down. I intend to talk to you whatever you wish.'

  He waited, but the girl clearly knew he meant it, and soon the key was turned and he entered the room. Annamarie, in a dressing robe of almost transparent gauze, which he was sure he had not seen before, and which Lady Palgrave would not have permitted her to buy, flounced across the room and sat on the bed, her bare feet tucked under her.

  'What do you want? I am tired, I have the headache, and I want to sleep, and not be disturbed.'

  'Where have you been?'

  'For a drive. I am weary of this house, it's enclosed and stuffy, I need fresh air.'

  'In the rain? Who took you?'

  She shrugged.

  'Oh, someone I met before we went to Crossways. He saw we had returned, and sent a note inviting me for a drive.'

  'So early in the morning? Without asking the permission of your guardian or your companion? Alone, to the peril of your reputation? Who is this man? I wish to talk to him.'

  'Then I won't tell you if all you want to do is shout at him. Unless you mean to call him out?'

  At the thought her eyes gleamed, and a small smile trembled on her lips. She seemed to crave excitement, danger.

  'I'm more likely to horsewhip him.'

  'Then I certainly won't tell you who it was. He's not a boy like Henry Markby, to be browbeaten. But I will tell you that he is an intimate of the Prince Regent, and if you did discover his name, and tried to do anything to him, you would have the Prince to answer to!'

  'Ye Gods! How old is this fellow? Prinnie is almost sixty. He must be old enough to be your father, if not your grandfather.'

  'Not all the Prince's friends are as old as he is.'

  'So you refuse to name him?'

  She glared at him.

  'Have I not said so?'

  'Very well, you will remain in this room, but the key will be on the outside, until you give me your word you will not meet anyone else in this clandestine fashion.'

  She suddenly changed tactics, and scrambled off the bed to come and cling to him. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she was sobbing convulsively as she pressed herself against him.

  'Oh, Crispin, don't be so cross! I only went because I am so dreadfully bored. You are always out, or seeing people on business. I have no fun, and Lady Palgrave does nothing but tell me what a bad girl I am.'

  He seized her shoulders and thrust her away from him.

  'The remedy is in your hands. I will leave you until dinnertime to reflect on what I have said. If you can then promise me to behave properly I will reconsider.'

  Her smile, through the tears, was brilliant.

  'Oh, yes, I will, Crispin. I want to please you, truly I do, for I love you far more than any of these stupid men.'

  *

  When, having changed her mother's book, Elizabeth reached home, it was to find Henry pacing up and down in the drawing room, and Lady Markby, for once not reclining on her day bed, looking harassed.

  'What is it?' Elizabeth asked, and resigned herself to listening to more of Henry's grievances.

  'Elizabeth, where have you been? Here's poor Henry, he's been waiting for you, and he won't tell me what is upsetting him.'

  'I was out riding earlier this morning,' Henry began.

  'In this rain?' Lady Markby interrupted. 'Henry, you will catch a dreadful cold. Why did you have to go out like that, so thoughtless!'

  He frowned at her, and turned reluctantly to his sister.

  'I couldn't rest, couldn't sleep last night. It's Annamarie, she refuses to see me. And then I saw her, coming out of the Pavilion, with an old man. What had she been doing there? It was early, a long time before she would normally be out.'

  'But Henry, my dear, what does her conduct matter to you? She has a guardian to take care of her.'

  'But I am going to marry her!'

  Lady Markby looked astonished, and then horrified.

  'Henry, my son, surely you cannot mean it? You're far too young to be tied in marriage, and when you do wed, I'd hope the girl would be from a respectable family, and have money, which that chit does not.'

  Henry glared at her, and went to stand in front of the fireplace, resting one elbow on the mantelpiece and his foot on the fender. If he meant to indicate nonchalance and a man of the world attitude he failed miserably, Elizabeth thought. He merely looked a sulky boy.

  'I don't need to marry a fortune! At least, I won't when my miserly sister here permits me to enjoy my own money! And Annamarie is perfectly respectable. Do you think a man like Lord Clifford would be her guardian if she were not!'

  'She's a hoyden,' his mother declared, 'and the sooner you forget her the happier you will be, my son.'

  'I don't want to forget her! I want to marry her, and she said she wanted to marry me. It's that wretched guardian who has turned her against me. Look how she behaved to me at Crossways, would barely exchange a word with me. And did not want to dance when we went to that insipid ball.'

  Elizabeth sighed. What would it take to show her brother how deluded he was regarding Annamarie's affections?

  'Henry, even in the few days we spent at Crossways, she was flirting with every man who would pay her attention, even the poor curate. How can you ever hope such a girl would remain faithful to you?'

  'She would, if we were married. It's the uncertainty that confuses her, so that she is unhappy and seeking distraction wherever she can find it. I know that's all it is.'

  There was no arguing with him. He was so besotted he would find excuses for whatever Annamarie did.

  He flung out of the room, saying that no one understood, and Lady Markby, complaining of a headache, said she needed to lie down before her morning callers came. Elizabeth hoped she would be restored, for she had no wish to hold court by herself to her mother's cronies.

  To her relief Lady Markby, remarking she had managed to sleep for an hour and was refreshed, and must not permit Henry's starts to affect her, if they did not wish to advertise his folly to the world, came down to the drawing room just as the first visitors were announced. Thankfully Elizabeth retired to the back of the room, and took no part in the conversation, which was mainly about people she knew only slightly.

  Then the lady who had accosted her in the library was announced, and following her into the room was Sir Percy.

  'Look who I've brought,' she almost sang, and cast a triumphant glance towards Elizabeth. 'The poor man said he would be unwelcome, but as he knows so few of us here in Brighton, I told him any past disagreements would be forgotten, for are we not one big happy family here?'

  Sir Percy bowed low over Lady Markby's hand
, but Elizabeth was glad to see her mother according him no more than a polite welcome. She had been afraid her erratic parent might attempt to persuade her to forgive the man, in the hope that, now he was a widower, he might renew his attentions to her daughter.

  She had not seen how Lady Markby had treated him at the Crossways dinner, after she had fled the room, nor at the Snaiths' dance, and her mother had not mentioned him. Perhaps she had more sensitivity than Elizabeth gave her credit for. On the other hand, and this was more likely, she might not wish to encourage him because she did not want to lose the services of her daughter.

  Elizabeth moved from her rather isolated position to sit between two of her mother's Brighton friends. While she was flanked by them, Sir Percy would be unable to engage her in private conversation.

  He made a few desultory attempts to talk to her, but her stratagem worked, and when the first of the callers left, she was able to escort them from the room and then hurry upstairs, determined not to come down again. It might not be polite, but she would do nothing to encourage him to resume any acquaintance with her.

  *

  'I cannot go on! Lord Clifford, I am asking you to permit me to resign. That girl is impossible, no one can control her! It is unfair to ask me to do so. I am not a young woman, and I fear the strains of the past few years have aged me by decades!'

  He sighed. She was not the only one who felt they had aged more than was natural.

  'I do know how you feel, Lady Palgrave. She has promised to behave, but I can place no reliance on her promises.'

  'She is quite without any sense of propriety!'

  'Has she informed you where she was, this morning?'

  'Simply that she went for a drive with some man none of us know. But one of the maids from next door saw her. She was coming from the Pavilion! And no one saw her leave here this morning, so was she there all night?'

  His lordship closed his eyes and sighed deeply. This was something that in his more pessimistic moments he feared might happen, that Annamarie could succumb to the pressures from one of the men she encouraged to flirt with her, and lose more than her reputation.

  He wished he had never seen her. He had known her parents only slightly, but he took his guardianship seriously. He could not let them or his late father down.

  'I sincerely trust not! When did you hear about this?'

  'Only after she went to bed. The maid told one of our maids, and she told Cook, who came to me and asked me to tell you. I'm not sure Cook believed it, she thought the girl must have been mistaken, but I believe it.'

  'I'll send for her, and we will get to the bottom of it now, this evening.'

  Annamarie duly entered the library where Lord Clifford was waiting for her, sitting behind the big desk, Lady Palgrave beside him. He knew it looked like a court, and had intended to give that impression, to demonstrate the seriousness of the situation.

  'Well, what do you want now?' Annamarie asked, and permitted her lips to quiver.

  Lord Clifford remained unmoved.

  'Sit down, there, facing me,' he ordered, and with a somewhat resentful flounce she did as she was told.

  'You were seen leaving the Pavilion this morning. How long had you been there?'

  Her eyes widened in dismay, and she licked her lips but made no effort to reply.

  'You told me you had merely been for an innocent drive. That was untrue. You said you had crept out of the house early this morning. I am beginning to wonder if that also was untrue, or whether in fact you left last night.'

  She shook her head.

  'No, no, of course not! Crispin, how could you think I would be so abandoned?'

  'I begin to think you are capable of anything, Miss. Tell me the truth, now.'

  'I, well, I told Lord – him – that I would love to see inside the Pavilion. I've heard so much about it, the Chinese themes, and how ornate the decorations are. He offered to show me. That is all, I swear it is! Crispin, you must believe me! And he was perfectly respectful, he didn't even try to kiss me, like so many of them do.'

  Lady Palgrave uttered an outraged gasp.

  'You are an unprincipled harlot! If you did not behave in such a fashion, stealing out to meet men on your own, they would not try to take advantage of you! You will end up in Bridewell, mark my words!'

  'I fear Lady Palgrave is right. Can you not see, girl, how dangerous your behaviour is? Not simply for the peril to your virtue, but for your reputation. If people hear of this behaviour, no decent man will ever offer for you, and you will finish up as someone's mistress. And when he tires of you, you will be cast aside and sink lower and lower, until you end up as a drab haunting Piccadilly and St James's and offering yourself to anyone willing to pay sixpence for your favours.'

  Annamarie began to weep noisily, and he saw they were, for once, real tears. She leapt from the chair and began to stamp her feet, then seized an inkwell from the desk and hurled it across the room. A paperweight followed, until Lord Clifford was able to move round the desk and grasp her arms.

  'Have you lost all sense of decency, child? You're behaving like a three-year-old in a tantrum, and unless you stop it at once you'll be treated like one, sent to bed with bread and milk. And taken straight back to Hampshire where I will ensure you never move from the house.'

  'I'm not! And I won't be what you said, I won't! And as for no one wishing to marry me, Henry does! But you will not allow it. So it's really your fault, that I'm so miserable I don't care what I do, or what stupid people think of me.'

  'You do not treat Sir Henry as though you welcomed his offer,' Lord Clifford said, struggling to keep his temper.

  Annamarie was silent, apart from her sobs. He lost patience with her, and sent her back to bed, following to lock the bedroom door and ignoring her pleas.

  'We'll talk again in the morning.'

  'What in the world am I to do with the wretched girl?' he demanded of Lady Palgrave, looking ruefully at the trail of ink across the carpet.

  'I'm sorry, but I cannot take any more responsibility for her,' that lady responded. 'You see, she becomes violent when thwarted. What will she do next? She could harm someone.'

  'Please, for a few days more, until I can make other arrangements? My business here will be concluded shortly and we can go back to Crossways. She will have fewer temptations there. Perhaps if I engaged someone else, a governess to keep her occupied, and share the task of watching her, you could consider remaining?'

  Lady Palgrave sighed.

  'I will consider it. You are generous to me, and I could not hope to obtain another position so well paid. I confess that is a prime consideration, for it enables me to save for when I am too old to work.'

  'Thank you. Now go to bed yourself, you look weary and it's not surprising.'

  She left the room, but he sat there for a long time after she had gone. This might be a temporary solution, but he had to find some other, and soon, before the wretched girl caused a scandal she would never be able to live down. Could he, with this problem facing him, offer for Elizabeth?

  He was meeting her in the morning, and had intended to propose, but now he felt that to ask her to share his life, and its problems, would be unfair to her. Finally he went to bed, hoping he might devise some solution while he slept.

  *

  Chapter 10

  Puzzled by his lordship's note, Elizabeth went to Donaldson's library the following morning. Why could he not have called at the house? Presumably it was something private, which he did not wish either her mother or Henry to hear, but she could not imagine what it might be.

  The rain had stopped, which was a pleasant change, and it was warmer than it had been the past few days, so she had donned a thin pelisse of grey and red brocade, trimmed with fur at the cuffs and hem, and a poke bonnet of matching grey trimmed with red roses. She strolled along enjoying the sunshine, but her relaxed mood was broken when, just as she reached the door of the library, Sir Percy appeared before her, doffing his beaver hat, and
smiling ingratiatingly.

  'My dear Elizabeth, here again? You must be an avid reader to have finished yesterday's book already.'

  Elizabeth frowned. She had not thought to dissemble by bringing a book with her.

  'Sir. I came to read the journals,' she said. 'Mama likes to know what is happening,' she added mendaciously.

  'Does she, indeed? I cannot recall noticing Lady Markby's interest in world affairs or politics when last I was intimate with your family.'

  That, Elizabeth thought, was not surprising. Her mother, while avid for gossip about her friends and acquaintances, would not have recognized the names of any Government Ministers, and though she might know where France was located, had only the haziest notion of the distances to India or New South Wales, but it had been the first excuse to enter her mind.

  She gave a nod of dismissal, and entered the library, but Sir Percy was not to be so lightly deterred, and he followed her in. She cast an anguished glance about the room, and to her relief saw Lord Clifford sitting reading one of the London newspapers. She walked across towards him, and he stood up to greet her.

  'Miss Markby, welcome, and thank you for coming.'

  Sir Percy was close beside her. He gave her a quizzical glance, and bowed to his lordship.

  'My lord. Everyone appears to have become very literary today. Here's Miss Markby, yesterday exchanging novels, and today coming to read the journals on her mother's behalf, and I see you yourself are also engrossed in them. If I wish to meet anyone in Brighton, I see I will have to become a regular patron of Donaldson's.'

  'There are worse places to visit,' Lord Clifford said his tone cold but with a certain significant stress in the words.

  Sir Percy, Elizabeth was sure, flushed slightly, but he soon recovered.

  'I was about to invite Miss Markby, when she has had her fill of perusing her mother's favourite journals, to drive out with me. It's a fine day, for once, and a drive along the coast would be pleasant.'

  'Then I am afraid you will have to forego that pleasure, sir. Miss Markby is promised to me this morning. After she has looked at her mother's journals,' he added, and Elizabeth knew, from the amused gleam in his eyes, that he had recognized her excuse for what it was.