Lord Clifford's Dilemma

by Oliver, Marina

  They watched Henry trying to wave the rider of the black away, but he took no notice, and was the first to cross the finishing line, to a tremendous roar from the crowd. Henry and Thoroughgood were galloping neck and neck, and just as they approached the finish another horse, a big chestnut, came between them and Felix.

  Muttering curses Felix stood up, Annamarie, in her excitement, leaned forward and grasped the reins which were between her and Felix, and the horses took this as a signal to move. As they started forward Felix overbalanced and fell back on the seat. The spectators roared, and Elizabeth glanced at Lord Clifford to find him trying to smother a grin.

  'Will they have to run again?' she asked. 'I couldn't tell which one was first.'

  'It was young Thoroughgood,' Lord Clifford said. 'Felix, give it to him. He was ahead by a nose.'

  'No, it was Henry,' Annamarie exclaimed.

  Felix had righted himself and the groom, sweating and apologizing profusely, while at the same time trying to say it was not his fault, regained control of his pair.

  'Are you sure it was Thoroughgood?' Felix asked, twisting round to look at Lord Clifford.

  'As sure as I can be.'

  'Thanks.' Felix breathed a sigh of relief. 'That gets me out of a spot. I feel such an idiot!'

  At that moment Henry and Thoroughgood rode up to learn the judge's verdict, and without a blush Felix gave it to them.

  'It was that damned black,' Henry said, then laughed. 'But it was a capital race. That fellow had an exceptional horse, probably a racehorse. I must challenge him to another, proper race.'

  'Nothing in it,' Thoroughgood agreed. 'Now, haven't we ordered refreshments somewhere? I could do with a few tankards of ale. Thirsty work, racing.'

  *

  Chapter 14

  It was late afternoon when Lord Clifford and Elizabeth arrived back in Berkeley Square. They had ridden behind Felix and Annamarie for the first part of the journey, but listening to the girl's complaints and arguments that it was Henry who had really won became tedious after a while, so they cantered ahead.

  Lord Clifford appeared distracted, and occasionally seemed not to hear Elizabeth's comments on the countryside, the autumn colours, and the coming winter.

  Then he looked at her, and the expression in his eyes made her heart leap. It was warmer than anything he had shown before, and she looked back at him, a query in her own eyes.

  'Elizabeth, Miss Markby. Oh, confound it, I cannot be so formal with you! May I call you Elizabeth? I feel – that we are friends.'

  'My lord, yes, of course,' she said, her mind in a whirl.

  'Good, and my name is Crispin.'

  'But I can't call you that! My mother and Lady Palgrave would be horrified, tell me I am being fast.'

  His eyes darkened.

  'Annamarie calls me by my given name.'

  Elizabeth had sometimes wondered about that.

  'Perhaps that is because she has lived in your house for so long, and was a child when it began.'

  'Perhaps. In private then? Elizabeth – '

  He paused, and as at that moment a large coach travelling in the direction of Brighton passed them and forced them to draw to the side of the road, any further words were lost.

  In drawing aside Elizabeth's mare almost stumbled. Lord Clifford reached out swiftly to help, but she gathered the mare and moved forward. Regaining the crown of the road they were silent.

  She wondered for a while what he had meant to say, but he had clearly decided it was unimportant, and began to talk of the race. She followed his lead, and he began to describe some of the race meetings he had attended at Newmarket.

  They reached Berkeley Square, handed their horses to the grooms and went into the house.

  'Let us see if there is any tea left in the drawing room. Or would you prefer a glass of Madeira before we change?'

  'The latter please. If Mama and Lady Palgrave are there they will want to know every insignificant detail, and I would prefer to let Henry tell them his version.'

  She accepted the glass of wine he poured, and sank into a large, comfortable chair.

  'Poor Felix,' Elizabeth said as she sipped the wine. 'Do you imagine Annamarie will ever forgive him for awarding the race to young Thoroughgood?'

  'Or me. I was the judge in the end. But from what I overheard while we were riding back alongside them I thought he was dealing with her admirably. He actually agreed that she was right, and said he would tell Henry in private, but warn him not to tell anyone else, for they would consider it unsportsmanlike.'

  'I didn't hear that.' Elizabeth laughed. 'A tactful young man. Let's hope it is a successful ploy.'

  *

  By the time dinner was over Lord Clifford was heartily bored with the race. Henry, who was drinking heavily, and Annamarie could talk of nothing else, and while his ward continued to upbraid him for giving his verdict against Henry, and praising Felix for, as she put it, making it right again, Henry himself seemed to care little whether he had won or not, being more interested in the race itself, and the black horse which, starting behind him, had so easily overtaken him.

  His lordship was wondering what had come over him on the ride back, when he had so nearly given in to his need to discuss Annamarie and her professed love for him with Elizabeth. That coach had saved him. It would serve no good purpose to burden her with his problems: problems he still had to solve.

  After the ladies had left the table Henry begged to be excused.

  'I'm going to celebrate with Felix and Thoroughgood and the others,' he said. 'I didn't tell Annamarie in case she kicked up a dust.'

  Lord Clifford grinned at him.

  'That was wise. But before you go, Henry, tell me, do you still wish to be betrothed to her?'

  Henry looked embarrassed.

  'I can hardly withdraw, can I, even if I don't? It would be ungentlemanly, and devastate her.'

  'Then I take it the answer is no? You don't wish to marry her.'

  'It's not her fault. I've come to accept I'm too young. Why, if we were leg-shackled I wouldn't be able to go out and meet my friends, would I? She'd be Friday-faced for days. And to tell you the truth,' he added confidingly, 'I suspect she'd lead me the devil of a dance. She needs someone older, even as old as you.'

  He grinned and departed, leaving his host a prey to mixed emotions. Henry seemed to have regained his senses where the child was concerned, though he appeared to believe she was still eager to marry him. That last crack about an older man had made Lord Clifford wince.

  Deciding he could not face the ladies in the drawing room, especially if Annamarie was still aggrieved about Felix's decision, he went to the library, hoping to enjoy another glass of port in solitude.

  Instead he found Elizabeth there, but instead of reading a book she was staring down at a letter, and frowning.

  'What is it?' he asked. He hated to see her in any way unhappy, and the expression on her face indicated a considerable degree of distress.

  She looked up at him and for a while did not speak. Then she indicated the letter.

  'Dawson has only this minute given it to me. It's from Miss Odell. The lady who runs my school near Markby Court. Someone broke into her house when they were all out earlier today, and either stole my library books, my school's books, or destroyed them by tearing them to pieces. Some they threw on a bonfire in the garden, but it seems they would not burn well, so they tore them instead. The more expensive ones, it seems, they carried away. I expect they think they can sell them.'

  'My poor girl! I suppose it was those wretched Minerva Press ones they destroyed?'

  She rose to her feet, glared at him, and began to pace in considerable agitation about the room.

  'Don't sneer! Miss Odell hasn't been able to see just what has been stolen, but she thinks a good many of the novels have been. Despite your scorn, my lord, it would probably be easier to dispose of those novels you so despise than some of the more serious books. It depends who the thieves are, how th
ey think they can dispose of them.'

  'I apologize. I am prejudiced against the novels because they appear to have given Annamarie some very odd notions.'

  Such as wanting to marry her guardian, he added to himself.

  'I know, and there are many people against what I am doing, who look no further than you do, and care nothing for giving my boys and girls a little pleasure in their lives. But I will change their attitudes. Why, even the rector began to support me when I pointed out that when people could read, they might even read the Bible! He now presents every one of my students who reach a sufficient standard with a copy of the New Testament.'

  'What will you do?'

  'First of all arrange for guards on all my schools. Then I am going to buy a new selection of the Minerva Press novels first thing in the morning, and send them down to Markby Court. When Miss Odell sends me the list of what else is missing or destroyed I will replace them too. I will not allow thieves to prevent me from doing what I know is right!'

  'Can I offer a contribution towards the cost? To demonstrate my remorse?'

  'Thank you, my lord, but I have sufficient money of my own. I don't need charity.'

  He knew it was useless to try and stop her when, her head in the air, she marched out of the room. One unwary comment had probably caused her to lose all trust in him. He determined to purchase some of these contentious novels himself, and this time read them properly, and without prejudice try to understand their appeal. He grinned at the notion of having a literary discussion on the merits of such with Elizabeth, and then sobered. She was annoyed with him, and this, on top of his still-unsolved dilemma about Annamarie, was causing his temper to become ruffled. How could he retrieve his position with her?

  *

  On the following evening they were all going to the biggest ball of the Little Season. Elizabeth, giving in to temptation, had had a new ballgown made. Of pale cream silk it had short puff sleeves decorated with clusters of cream and pink and red roses, made from satin and with tiny diamonds sparkling at the heart of each, like raindrops, and this was repeated in a panel down the centre of the back and the hem. On the bodice were embroidered cream roses, again with diamonds on the petals, and a narrow pink ruffle edged the neckline. In her hair she wore just cream roses, and her jewellery was of diamonds, a necklace in a delicate gold filigree setting, with some of the diamonds standing proud on fragile gold stems. Earrings and bracelets completed the set.

  She tried not to notice Lord Clifford's glance of admiration as they gathered in the hall before entering the coaches which were to take them the short distance to Grosvenor Square. She was still annoyed with him for his comment, seeming to blame the novels she read for Annamarie's behaviour.

  She permitted him to help her place a dark green velvet cloak round her shoulders. At the end of October the weather was cold, and this evening a strong wind was howling round the corners into the square. He walked alongside her on the windward side, considerately shielding her from the worst of it, and her anger began to fade. One day soon, perhaps before she sent her new collection of novels to Miss Odell, she would show him some of the books. Although she had tried to explain, in Brighton that day, how they often treated some serious issues, as well as being exciting, if often improbable tales, he did not seem to understand this.

  By now she had met several young men who begged for dances, and if Lord Clifford had not stolen a march on them by asking her for the first waltz and the supper dance as they drove to the ball, he would have stood no chance, for her dance card was soon full.

  Annamarie seemed equally popular, and was soon whisked away to join the country dance sets just forming. It was some time before Elizabeth saw her again.

  Lord Clifford had just claimed her hand for the first waltz when Elizabeth saw Annamarie sitting demurely on a small gilt chair at the end of the ballroom. Felix Snaith was standing beside her, and she was shaking her head. She had apparently taken to heart the prohibition on waltzing, to Elizabeth's relief.

  'What are you watching so intently?' Lord Clifford asked as he took her in his arms and they began to sway and turn to the music.

  It was one of the reasons she enjoyed dancing the waltz with him. They could engage in sensible conversation during the dance, both of them skilled enough to be unconcerned about their steps, whereas most of her other partners were too busy counting to the beat of the music, unable to do more than utter disjointed comments.

  'Your ward has just refused to dance with Felix Snaith. I often worry she will forget or ignore the conventions.'

  'Felix? Not Henry? Have you seen him lately?'

  'Not after the first country dance. Thoroughgood is not here, either, nor his brother, and I see several other of the younger men have discreetly vanished. I expect they are in the card room.'

  'I hate to disillusion you, my dear Elizabeth, but I have heard of a mill taking place down by the docks, and I suspect they have removed themselves in order to watch this.'

  'By the docks? At night? Isn't it dangerous there?'

  'Don't be concerned. There will be a group of them, no doubt. I'm just surprised Felix hasn't joined them. I meant to tell you, but have not seen you all day. Henry confessed to me last night that he now considers himself too young to be tied in marriage.'

  'Really? Then you need not be concerned any more. And I can go back to Markby Court.'

  'No,' he said quickly. 'I still need your help, while we are in London. She doesn't yet know of Henry's changed sentiments.'

  'I think she may have some consolation,' Elizabeth replied, and wondered why he gave her such an odd, and rather pained look.

  Some time later, as they were moving to the supper room, hemmed in by a crush of guests, and moving slowly, Elizabeth felt her arm being grasped in an urgent hand. She turned round to see who was trying to attract her attention, and came face to face with Sir Percy Royle. She uttered a protest, but before she could demand he release her he whispered in her ear.

  'I have not forgot, my dear Elizabeth, and you will regret your treatment of me, never fear. You or someone you love.'

  He slid away and she lost him in the crowd. When Lord Clifford asked her if she was feeling faint, for she had gone pale, she shook her head, and said it was just the heat from all the hundreds of candles in the chandeliers. She did not wish to tell him of the incident. There was nothing he could do.

  'I shall feel quite all right when I have had a drink.'

  She did not see Sir Percy again, and wondered where he had been during the first part of the ball. Had he come late, or been in the card or sitting-out rooms? What could he do to harm her? By the end of the ball she had decided to ignore his threats, for in all likelihood they were empty ones.

  *

  They had just alighted from the coaches at Clifford House when a hackney cab drew up behind them, and Henry, considerably inebriated, was decanted onto the pavement before it went on, some raucous singing coming from inside.

  'Henry, where have you been? And what a disgusting state you are in. Keep away from me!' Annamarie ordered as Henry, staggering slightly, attempted to bow and take her hand in his.

  'Good mill. Planted him a facer. Won a monkey.'

  'What do you want with a stupid animal like a monkey?' Annamarie demanded. 'Don't bring it anywhere near me!' she added and swept up the steps to the front door which was being opened by Dawson. Without saying goodnight she vanished up the stairs.

  Lord Clifford didn't know whether to laugh or douse Henry's head under a pump to sober him. He compromised by ushering the ladies inside the house. Lady Markby was berating her son for his drunken state, Lady Palgrave twittering helplessly, while Elizabeth was trying to stifle her giggles.

  As soon as they were inside Elizabeth muttered a hurried goodnight and picking up her skirts, fled upstairs.

  'Try to sober him,' Lord Clifford said quietly to Dawson, but already the two footmen were taking hold of Henry's arms and almost carrying him into the hall.


  Lady Markby, clearly recognizing the impossibility of getting her son to attend to her, stalked up the stairs, followed by Lady Palgrave.

  Henry would be in for a severe headache in the morning, compounded no doubt by his parent's complaints. Lord Clifford decided it served him right.

  The boy had a harder head than Lord Clifford had supposed. Though pale, and refusing all but dry toast, he appeared at the breakfast table.

  'Sorry about last night,' he muttered. 'Was Mama in a pet?'

  'Are you surprised? She has never seen you in your cups before,' Elizabeth told him.

  'Well, she'll give me a real beargarden jaw, no doubt. I'm keeping out of her way till she's had time to calm down. Thoroughgood and I are riding out to watch another mill, at Brindley Heath, and we'll put up somewhere for the night. By the time I get back she'll probably have forgotten it. You know how she does, Lizzie.'

  Taking two rolls, saying he might possibly feel like eating when he had been in the fresh air for a while, he departed, and Elizabeth gave way to laughter.

  'He does appear to have forgotten Annamarie in the excitements of being in London, and finding other young men with similar tastes. I begin to feel sorry for her.'

  'Don't be. She doesn't want to marry the boy. Never has, I suspect.'

  'Then what does she want? Constant new conquests by enslaving any man she meets?'

  'If only it were that!'

  'What do you mean?'

  He was so tempted to confide in her, but at that moment Annamarie herself came into the breakfast room, eager to discuss the ball. Elizabeth soon made an excuse to leave, and he promptly followed her, saying he had letters to write.

  'Crispin, I'm going driving with Felix this morning, if you have no objection,' Annamarie called after him.

  'Very well, do so.'

  Felix seemed rather taken with her. He began to wonder how his capricious ward regarded the boy, if he might be the solution to his problem, then he recalled Felix was about to leave England for India, so that was out of the question.

  Later in the day he found some callers in the drawing room, discussing the ball the previous night, and commenting on the gowns.