The Mysterious Lord Marlowe

by Anne Herries

  ‘Thank you,’ Jane said and laughed, amused that her godmother had thought her insipid as a girl. ‘I was guided by a friend of my mother, who thought I ought to wear pastels. I was quiet because I had been told gentlemen did not like intelligent girls who had opinions of their own.’

  ‘Absolute nonsense,’ Lady Mary said stoutly. ‘You must just be yourself, dearest. It is the only way. Any sensible gentleman will see what a treasure you are if he has eyes to see at all.’

  ‘My dearest godmother, you make me feel so much better,’ Jane said. ‘I assure you I am looking forward to this evening, and I shall be myself for I cannot be anything else.’

  * * *

  Jane glanced around at the richly furnished room, with its ornate furnishings and magnificent chandeliers. It was the first time she had been invited to such a prestigious affair and the spacious rooms were overflowing with guests. Their dinner had been quite delicious and now everyone was looking forward to the entertainment, which consisted of a performance by both a tenor and a soprano of considerable fame. Some of the gentlemen were heading for the card room, where tables had been set up. There was no dancing that evening and Jane was preparing to take a seat to listen to the music when she caught sight of the gentleman she had glimpsed in Bond Street the previous day.

  He was wearing evening clothes of a dark hue, with a pristine white shirt, and looked very distinguished. She had not been certain when she saw him briefly in the street, but studying him more closely now she was sure he was indeed George.

  For a moment her heart raced. She had missed him more than she would admit to herself and her first inclination was to go to him at once—but of course she could not. It would be most improper of her. She must wait to be introduced or for George to come to her—but it was so very hard to see him and not be able to approach him.

  What was he doing at an affair like this? As she watched, she saw that he had been engaged in conversation by Prince George himself. Jane frowned, because she could not understand how a man who was clearly welcome at important society affairs could have become embroiled in an abduction. What had he been thinking of to agree in the first place? He must have known how much he could lose.

  ‘Who are you looking at, Jane?’ Lady Mary glanced across the room and then smiled. ‘He is rather distinguished, is he not? Lord George Marlowe—a very pleasant and good-mannered gentleman, Jane. I know his grandfather very well. His father died a year or so back in a fall from his horse, but the earl is still alive. He had three sons and Lord George is not in line for the title, though he will inherit a share of the earl’s fortune—but he is wealthy enough in his own right. His mother was well connected and an heiress. If you could gain his regard, you would be fortunate indeed, my dear.’

  Jane’s cheeks felt warm. She had obviously shown her feelings too plainly.

  ‘Please, Lady Mary, do not hint at such things. It is quite impossible.’

  ‘Impossible? I do not see why. He is of an age to be looking for a wife, his wild days in the army behind him. I know him to be intelligent and a considerate brother. I dare say he would suit you very well.’

  ‘Please, you must not.’

  Jane’s heart was racing. George—or Lord George Marlowe, as her godmother had named him—was looking her way. For a moment the colour left his face and she knew he was shocked to see her. He was probably wondering if she would denounce him to his friends. She made a little negative movement of her head and sat down beside her aunt to listen to the music.

  She was aware that he watched her throughout the next hour or so of music, her attention wandering from the beautiful tones of the soprano to thoughts of him.

  * * *

  When the interval was called and supper announced, Jane rose with her godmother and walked towards the splendid supper set out in the next reception room. She did not know how anyone could wish to eat after the lavish dinner they had been given earlier and moved towards the balcony, wishing only for a little fresh air. The prince was well known for keeping his rooms too warm.

  ‘Miss Lanchester.’ The voice made her turn swiftly but she was not surprised that he had come to her at the first opportunity. ‘We must talk urgently.’

  ‘Yes, my lord,’ she replied. ‘But not here—not this evening. Do not be alarmed. Lady Mary has no idea of who you are—at least, she does not know anything about what happened, other than that I was upset about something that happened at home. I have said nothing of you, nor shall I. Apparently, Lady Mary knows both you and your grandfather quite well.’

  ‘Yes, that is perfectly true.’ George met her challenging look. ‘I should have told you the whole. Perhaps you would allow me to call on you tomorrow to explain?’

  ‘I certainly think an explanation due, sir. My brother is searching for you in the hope of learning where he may find Blake.’

  ‘Lady Fanshawe—is she well?’

  ‘She has recovered in a physical sense, but her distress is inward and may trouble her much longer. She did not tell us much of what happened to her, though I understand she was not harmed other than by the foul drugs they gave her to keep her quiet.’

  ‘Yes, I fear she was not well treated. I wish the thing had never happened, but regret is useless.’

  ‘You will call tomorrow at eleven?’

  ‘Yes, of course. Forgive me.’

  ‘Tomorrow I shall decide whether you deserve to be forgiven,’ Jane said, giving him a direct look. ‘I should return to my godmother. She will worry if I am absent too long. I shall expect you in the morning, sir.’

  ‘I shall not let you down, Miss Lanchester.’

  He gave her a formal nod and moved on. Jane was swamped by disappointment. Though they’d been compelled to be formal with each other, was it just her imagination that George seemed most concerned that she would give him away? She had not felt that connection with him this time and felt its loss keenly.

  Jane made her way to the dining parlour. She saw George enter a little later. He went to stand by the side of the beautiful young woman she had seen him accompanying in Bond Street, but did not glance her way. Was he deliberately avoiding making eye contact? She felt rejected, hurt. Perhaps she had misunderstood that day—or perhaps he’d regretted that parting kiss.

  A little niggle of doubt stirred in her mind. What explanation could George give her—and would he tell her the truth?

  * * *

  Jane had slept fitfully that night, tossing and turning, caught in a nightmare. She woke suddenly, shivering and cold. In her dream she had been abducted, but this time there was no George to save her and she had been very frightened. Since this was the first time she had suffered from bad dreams over the abduction, she wondered what had brought things back so sharply.

  It was impossible to sleep again so she rose and sat by the window, watching the dawn light strengthen. She was still there when the maid brought her breakfast tray.

  ‘Have you been awake long, miss?’

  ‘Yes, for a while,’ Jane said and smiled at her. ‘At home I should get dressed and go walking or riding alone, but in town I did not think it advisable.’

  ‘No, miss, I should think not. Is there anything more I can do for you? Would you like me to bring water for a bath?’

  ‘No, just my usual water for washing,’ Jane said. ‘Please do not worry, Tilda. I am perfectly well. I had something on my mind.’

  The maid nodded, set down her tray and left Jane to eat her breakfast. Jane poured the strong dark chocolate into a little bowl and sipped it, then buttered a warm roll and spread a little honey on it. At home she would have eaten her breakfast downstairs, but since her godmother never rose before eleven at the earliest it made too much work for the servants. A simple breakfast in bed was much easier for them than setting out the chafing dishes on the sideboard in the dining parlour.

  When Tilda brought her water, Jane washed and dressed in a morning gown. She arranged her hair back in a simple knot at her nape, teasing out a tendril or t
wo about her face. Satisfied with her appearance, she left her room and went downstairs to the parlour, attempting to read a book until the appointed hour.

  * * *

  ‘Lord George Marlowe,’ Lady Mary’s housekeeper announced, entering the parlour. ‘He asked for Lady Mary, but said he would speak to you, miss. Do you wish me to remain in the room?’

  ‘No, thank you. Lord George is a friend and quite respectable,’ Jane said, a faint flush in her cheeks. ‘I am two and twenty, Mrs Scott. I assure you there is no need to chaperon me with this gentleman.’

  ‘Very well, miss. I shall show him in.’

  The housekeeper gave her a dubious look as she turned to leave, which left Jane in little doubt that she had fallen in the good woman’s opinion. However, it could not be helped, for it was imperative that they talk in private.

  When George came in she was at the bow window that overlooked the street, gazing down at the garden in the square. She did not turn immediately when he entered and he coughed, before saying, ‘This is rather awkward, Miss Lanchester. I dare not think what your godmother’s housekeeper is thinking.’

  ‘Perhaps that I am no better than I should be.’ Jane turned to look at him. ‘Fortunately, as I have no marriage prospects, a loss of reputation will not harm me too much, particularly as I prefer life in the country.’

  ‘Have you suffered a loss of reputation?’ George looked at her intently. ‘I thought your brother and friends had kept things as quiet as possible?’

  ‘Yes, they have,’ Jane agreed. She raised her head, very much on the defensive. ‘It was merely levity, sir. I have no wish to marry. Please, sit if you wish.’ She returned to her former seat, which gave him the opportunity to sit if he chose. He remained standing, looking apprehensive and uncomfortable.

  ‘I hardly know where to begin.’

  ‘Please do sit down.’ Jane indicated the large wing chair opposite hers. ‘Now that the immediate danger is past, perhaps you might trust me with the truth about what hold Blake has over you?’

  ‘He has some incriminating letters and other things.’ George sat opposite her. ‘Blake was once in my own regiment. At one time I invited him to shoot with me at my family home in the country—that was when my sister, Verity, met him. So I blame myself in part.’

  ‘I do not quite follow.’

  ‘The letters were written by Verity,’ he explained. ‘I was not at liberty to tell you before, but she has given her permission, though reluctantly. As I understand it, she had a brief affair with Blake after a quarrel with her husband. She did not know Blake’s reputation—he had been due for court-martial, but found a way to wiggle out of it, even though he was dismissed from the army. When Verity realised that he was not the man she thought him, she broke off the affair—but Blake threatened to send the letters and an article of jewellery to her husband. If he does so, Markham will demand a divorce and Verity will be ruined.’

  ‘Oh, no, how dreadful for her,’ Jane said, feeling sympathy for the lady. ‘You have my word that I shall never reveal one word of what you have told me. May I ask—was she the lady I saw you with last evening?’

  ‘Yes, Verity was present last night.’ George sighed. ‘She is a busy hostess and delights in the social calendar. If she were forced to leave London in disgrace, I think she would pine and fade away entirely. She loves her children and I fear Markham would forbid her to see them.’

  ‘That is so unfair, though her husband has the right to be angry with her, of course,’ Jane said. She leaned towards him and touched his hand. ‘I understand completely why you felt compelled to help Blake, sir. You love your sister and wish to protect her, as any caring brother would.’

  ‘Unfortunately, I have failed her,’ George said. ‘She has now received another blackmail letter. Blake is demanding twenty thousand pounds for the return of her possessions and the letter. Verity cannot pay and I shall have to sell land to find such a sum.’

  ‘I thought you meant to discover where Blake was hiding and take back your sister’s letters?’

  ‘I searched for him, but after I rescued Mariah, he went to ground and I could find no sign of his whereabouts. Then I received a letter from Verity begging me to come to London.’

  ‘I see…’ Jane was thoughtful. ‘My brother has men searching for Blake and so has the duke. They are determined to bring him to justice. Would you consider meeting with Andrew and pooling what information you have? Perhaps one of you might have something that would lead to his discovery and capture.’

  ‘Your brother made it clear that if I came near you again he would do his best to see me behind bars.’

  ‘Andrew is sometimes hasty,’ Jane said. ‘I believe you would find the duke more reasonable. He was very grateful that you had brought Mariah back to us. Although she is no longer his ward in legal terms, he feels himself responsible for her safety and welfare.’

  ‘If I could discover where Blake has gone to ground, I might also find the letters,’ George said. ‘Is your brother in town?’

  ‘Not at this moment, but if I sent for him he would come. I know he has other business, but he wishes to see this unpleasant affair settled.’

  ‘Very well, send for him,’ George said. ‘I shall not give him my reasons for being persuaded to join Blake—that information was for you alone, Miss Lanchester. I did not wish you to think me a heartless rogue.’

  ‘I have never thought that,’ Jane said and smiled. She stood up and he rose to his feet. She moved towards him, gazing up into his face. ‘If I can do anything to help you or your sister, I should count it an honour. I did not thank you sufficiently for rescuing both Mariah and me.’

  ‘Miss Lanchester—’ George broke off as the door to the parlour opened and Lady Mary entered. Jane felt her cheeks grow warm as she moved away from him. George bowed to her godmother and smiled. ‘Lady Mary, forgive me for calling this early. I fear I have inconvenienced you and Miss Lanchester.’

  ‘Not at all, my dear boy.’ Lady Mary beamed and offered her hand for him to kiss. ‘To what do we owe the pleasure of this visit?’

  * * *

  ‘Lady Markham is giving a small dinner this evening. She would very much like to invite you both, but fears that a late invitation may appear rude.’

  ‘Not at all. I dare say she did not know I had my goddaughter staying. You may tell Verity that we shall be delighted to join you. We have a card party later in the evening, but were to dine at home. We can easily come to you and then go on later.’

  ‘My sister will be so pleased,’ George said and bowed to Jane. ‘It has been delightful to renew our acquaintance, Miss Lanchester.’

  ‘You know each other?’

  ‘We met briefly some time ago,’ Jane replied quickly. ‘I was not sure last evening, but Lord George has reminded me.’

  ‘Well, how pleasant this is to be sure,’ Lady Mary said. ‘Have you met Lady Markham?’

  ‘I have seen her, but we have not yet met. I shall look forward to it.’

  ‘I must take my leave,’ George said. ‘Once again, I ask you to forgive the early call, Lady Mary—Miss Lanchester.’

  He bowed his head, turned and left the room. Lady Mary was silent for a moment, then, ‘No wonder your attention was caught last evening, Jane. It is awkward when one cannot quite recall a face—though I do not think many young ladies would forget Lord George.’

  ‘No, perhaps not,’ Jane said and turned away, feeling guilty for lying to her. Her godmother’s words were only too true. George—or Lord George, as she must think of him now—had scarcely been out of her thoughts since the night he found her in the hut. ‘It was kind of Lady Markham to invite us, was it not?’

  ‘Yes, though it is but a month since I last dined with her.’ Lady Mary looked thoughtful. ‘Lord George intended a longer stay in the country, I believe. He must have returned to town at his sister’s request. I have thought something was troubling her of late—I suppose you know nothing of it, Jane?’

  ‘I
f I had been given privileged information, I could not repeat it, ma’am.’

  ‘No, you could not and I should not wish you to,’ Lady Mary replied. ‘I shall not ask you to break a confidence, though I may know more than you imagine. Yes, I see—things begin to make sense now.’

  Jane wondered just how much her godmother did know of the affair, but she was not at liberty to discuss Lady Markham’s predicament. Lord George had told her in confidence, because he did not wish her to think ill of him. Was there something more on his mind? Jane suspected that she would have heard more if Lady Mary had not arrived when she did.

  ‘Do they?’ Jane smiled. ‘Shall I send for some refreshments, ma’am? After that, I have a letter to write…’

  ‘Oh, George—’ Lady Markham looked at her brother in distress ‘—I wish you had not told her. What will she think of me?’

  ‘I told you I must, dearest. Jane deserved an explanation,’ he replied sternly. ‘Forgive me, but I needed her to know the truth—to understand why I agreed to help Blake in the first place.’

  It had shocked George to see Jane the previous evening. For a moment he’d thought he might be accused of his ill deeds before his friends, but then he’d known that Jane would not be so cruel. Even so, he had not been able to greet her naturally. After her brother had forbidden him to contact her, he had reluctantly decided that he must dismiss her from his mind. A resolution that was harder to achieve than he had expected. Jane was a remarkable young woman, very different from his sister and mother. Her cool independence had impressed him and he had felt a burning need to protect her, but when he’d ridden off with Blake that day he had believed he might die within hours.

  It had taken a lot of swift talking to convince Blake that he knew nothing of her whereabouts. They had argued violently and George knew that the other man had come close to shooting him that day. He had survived because Blake thought he would not dare to speak out lest he lose both reputation and perhaps his life.