Scandal and Miss Markham

by Janice Preston

  ‘Look!’

  Her nose was all but pressed against the window. Vernon leaned forward to peer down at the street below.

  ‘That is him, is it not? Mr Temple?’ Thea said. Then she straightened, drawing back. ‘And that, I presume, is Miss Temple.’

  Vernon gave her a sidelong look—distracted by the change in her tone—before studying again the two figures in the street below. Temple it was, with a lady upon his arm. She was certainly young enough to be his daughter, but there was little resemblance between the portly American and this dark, willowy, exotic-looking creature. Vernon just managed to contain his low whistle of appreciation. Miss Cordelia Temple was stunning. Conscious of Thea quietly bristling by his side—and why was it women always seemed to take an instant dislike to beautiful females?—he moved away from the window.

  ‘Yes, that is him,’ he said. ‘Come, let us sit over here...’ he steered her to a small round table and pair of chairs that were set back in the corner ‘...and we shall plot Mannington’s downfall. But first, our priority must be to work out what has happened to Henry and to Daniel. What are those questions you spoke of?’

  They sat across the table from one another. Thea held up a finger.

  ‘First: where is the real Henry Mannington?’

  Vernon recognised in Thea’s expression the same resignation that weighed on his mind.

  ‘I fear that, if it was not Jasper who was buried that day, it must have been my cousin,’ he said.

  Thea reached for his hand and squeezed. ‘I am sorry but I agree. That is the most rational explanation.’

  ‘Which poses an additional question,’ Vernon said. ‘Did Jasper simply seize upon an opportunity that presented itself to him, or was he involved in Henry’s death? Did he set the fire, perhaps?’

  ‘And that is a question only he can answer,’ Thea said. ‘Now...next...how did Daniel learn that Jasper was still alive?’ Her amber eyes searched his. ‘Do we agree that Daniel somehow discovered Jasper was alive and set off to track him down?’

  ‘Agreed.’ He thought back to what they had learned in Harborne and Birmingham. ‘He must have seen Jasper at the Royal Hotel and learned he was using a false identity. Maybe Jasper... Mannington, I mean...left before Daniel could confront him and so, when he learned Mannington was due to stay there on his return journey, Daniel decided to go to the hotel every day until he saw him again.’

  ‘And, in the meantime, he wrote to your brother.’

  ‘And we know that, when Mannington did stay again overnight, he left very early in the morning...’

  ‘Keen to get back to his heiress,’ Thea muttered, her brows lowering.

  ‘And Daniel therefore missed him.’

  ‘And decided to follow him, knowing now that he lived near to Worcester and would be travelling on the Worcester road.’

  ‘I wonder why, once he knew Mannington would return, your brother did not simply stay at the hotel until Mannington returned?’

  ‘I think I can answer that,’ Thea said. ‘He would not stay away overnight unless he had no choice. He has taken on the mantle of head of the family. He feels responsible for us: Papa and Mama and me. He would rather ride all that way every day than not come home. And, of course, the cost would be a consideration. Our finances might be improved, but they are still not fully secure.’

  Which makes his failure to return now even more troubling.

  Vernon saw the effort it cost Thea to contain her worry and her grief and his heart swelled.

  ‘Try not to think the worst,’ he said, taking her hands across the table and caressing her knuckles with his thumbs. ‘There still could be a good explanation for Daniel’s silence.’

  Although I cannot think of a single one.

  He hated to think how desolate Thea must be feeling at this very moment. He felt it, too: grief for Henry, even though he had not seen him for years, and apprehension about what had happened to Daniel. But he must remain positive for Thea’s sake.

  ‘What we need to decide is how we move forward from here,’ he said. ‘Can you recall the name of the inn that burned down?’

  ‘No, but I do know it was in the village of Yarncott, near Oxford.’

  ‘Oxford? That is too far for us to go to make enquiries, with only two days at our disposal. I need to establish a relationship with the Temples before Mannington returns and, through them, with him.’

  ‘You need to? Do you not mean we?’ She stared challengingly, then her shoulders slumped and she shook her head, her curls bouncing. ‘No. Sorry. Of course I cannot be involved. Mannington will know me in an instant.’ Her mouth drooped.

  ‘I promise you, Thea,’ Vernon said. ‘Mannington will pay for the suffering he has caused you and your family.’

  She drew back. ‘Pay? In what way? Money?’ She laughed bitterly. ‘Money will not buy Papa his health.’

  ‘But it might give him peace of mind, to know the culprit is brought to justice.’

  ‘How do you intend to lure the Temples into trusting you? You cannot use your real name and you do not look much like a wealthy gentleman, dressed as you are.’

  ‘That is true.’ Vernon jumped to his feet. ‘First, I need to ensure Mannington has really gone away...we already know he is a consummate liar, do we not? Plus, you have given me an idea, Thea. Now, do not leave your bedchamber, or you might ruin my plans. I shall see you at dinner.’

  ‘What is your idea? Tell—’

  But Vernon had gone, closing the door on the remainder of her sentence.

  * * *

  Thea did not see Vernon again until it was time to dine, when she answered a knock upon her door, her heart bumping in her throat even though it was illogical to think it might be Mannington who knocked. Vernon had raised such doubts in her mind...what if Mannington had lied to Mr Temple and he was still skulking around the area?

  But it was not Mannington. Vernon, looking very pleased with himself, stood on the landing outside and her pulse leapt with fierce joy.

  ‘Oh. It is you,’ she said, struggling to conquer her involuntary reaction to the sight of him.

  ‘Were you expecting somebody else?’

  ‘Of course I was not.’

  ‘Come, then,’ he said. ‘Enough of your dawdling. I am ravenous. I have reserved a private parlour for us to dine.’

  Thea stomped on to the landing and banged the door shut behind her. She cloaked herself in anger. She could not bear it if he guessed the strength of her feelings for him.

  Infuriating wretch! Leaving me all alone for hours, to worry myself silly. And then he reappears when it suits him, all smug and self-satisfied. No doubt he has been ‘establishing a relationship’ with that woman. Well, I wish him luck with her.

  She would not give him the satisfaction of questioning him about his whereabouts—he obviously could not care less that she’d had been going quietly mad, left alone with her thoughts.

  ‘I hope you have not left your bedchamber since last I saw you, Dotty,’ Vernon said, tweaking one of her curls as they walked downstairs together.

  She had been oh-so-tempted to defy him. But common sense—and fear that Mannington might indeed still be lurking around—had stopped her. They still needed to find Daniel and blundering about when Vernon was establishing...well, whatever he was establishing...would not help.

  ‘I am not foolish enough to ruin our chances of finding the truth,’ Thea said, sticking her nose in the air as she stalked past him into the parlour, ‘even if you are unfeeling enough to leave me in ignorance all this time. But you need not think that means I shall remain confined to my room day after day whilst you gallivant about establishing relationships and searching for clues, because I shall not.’

  Vernon regarded her with an arched brow and a smile playing on his mouth. ‘Are you miffed with
me, Dotty?’

  She rounded on him. ‘Miffed? Why, pray, should I be miffed?’

  He shrugged carelessly. ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ he said. ‘Just an impression. I am pleased I am wrong.’

  She could see by his expression he knew he was right. And that he thought it amusing. He thought her amusing.

  ‘Now, this parlour will do nicely for our meals, do you not agree?’ Vernon said. ‘The less other guests, or the staff, see of you, my dearest Dotty, the better. Then Mannington’s return will not coincide with the sudden elusiveness of my young nephew. I shall invent a disorder for you, I believe.’ His green eyes twinkled. ‘What say you to a disorder of the brain? Shall that suffice to keep you confined to your chamber, do you think?’

  ‘There is no need for me to remain out of sight when Mannington returns, as long as we are not introduced,’ she said. ‘I am dressed as a boy and, as long as I wear my cap, there is no reason for him to even notice me. And that, my dear Lord Vernon, is to our advantage. You need my help. A lad may loiter without exciting comment and a man such as Mannington is less likely to censor his conversation in front of a youth than in front of a full-grown man. It will be an excellent opportunity to find out some of his secrets.’

  ‘Oh, no. Absolutely not.’ They were seated at the table by now, opposite one another, and Vernon pierced Thea with a narrowed gaze. ‘Do not imagine for one minute, Dotty, that I shall permit you to risk your safety by sneaking around and eavesdropping on that scoundrel. Besides, it is not safe for you to wander about on your own in a town this size. You are entirely too innocent. Do you forget that incident with Pooley? There are any number of things that might happen to an unsophisticated lad...things that would make your hair curl. Or—’ his eyes glinted ‘—perhaps I should say, make your toes curl. Your hair needs no assistance in that department.’

  Thea glared at him, raising a hand involuntarily to smooth her hair, a hopeless task as she very well knew. Why could she not have smooth, sleek, shining hair? In the mental images she had formed of the ladies with whom Vernon no doubt consorted in his normal, privileged life not one of them had wild curls that spiralled and bounced. And unsophisticated...well, she could not argue with that description of her, not compared to the females he was accustomed to.

  She thrust aside her inadequacies, telling herself there were far more important issues at stake.

  ‘Where have you been all afternoon?’ So much for my resolve not to question him. ‘I kept thinking about what you said—that Mannington might not have gone away after all. I kept wondering if you might bump into him unawares.’

  And if he did, she just knew Vernon would confront him. The fear had plagued her the entire afternoon, worry eating at her in case Vernon was in danger. How would she know? What would she do if something happened and he failed to return, like Daniel? She could not bear it if he simply vanished too.

  Vernon’s brows shot skywards. ‘Is that why you are so scratchy? Were you worried about me?’

  He grinned at her and she scowled back, desperate to hide the truth. Yes. She had been worried. Frantic, even. And now he sat there, seemingly without a care in the world, looking suave and gorgeous despite his travel-stained clothes, whilst she looked like a scruffy schoolboy with badly cut hair. Oh, how she wished they were sitting there in different circumstances, with her clad in a pretty gown, with her hair nicely dressed...

  She tamped down those wishes; they were nonsense.

  A man such as he would never look at a woman like her.

  Besides. Men were not to be trusted. She had seen the living proof of that not five hours ago in this very inn.

  ‘Why should I worry about a great oaf like you? I have no doubt you can take care of yourself.’

  But she had thought the same about Daniel and now she could only pray he was out there somewhere, safe.

  Two maids came in carrying trays and served their food and wine, precluding further conversation. Thea drummed her fingers on the table, waiting for the women to leave the room, her stomach churning. It took her several minutes to work out the cause...it was dread. Pure and simple. Now they seemed close to discovering the truth she realised there was a growing part of her that was simply terrified of what they might learn. At least at the moment she had hope. What if her worst fears were realised? What, then, would she have left?

  At last the women left, closing the door behind them.

  ‘Well?’ She almost spat the word out, fear making her sharp. ‘Will you tell me what you have been doing or am I to be kept in total ignorance?’

  Chapter Fifteen

  Vernon gave Thea a rueful smile. ‘I am sorry. I should not tease. This is a difficult time for you, I know. And I am at times guilty of forgetting quite how much is at stake.’

  She stared. ‘You almost sound as though you are enjoying yourself.’

  Vernon winced. ‘Put like that, I sound heartless indeed. But I am not. I care about you and I pray we shall find Daniel safe and well but, to be brutally honest, I am enjoying the change. Or, more accurately, the challenge. You have accused me of being an idle aristocrat with too much money and too much time on my hands and, despite my business interests, you are right. My brother and I, we employ people to do the hard work. We only need be involved when and if we wish to be. This is...different. I am needed. Indispensable. And it is that feeling I relish, not the actual circumstances.’

  Somewhat mollified, Thea sipped at her wine.

  ‘So, I shall enlighten you as to how I have spent this afternoon. I spoke to Horwell, following which I wrote two letters, and then Horwell drove me out to Crackthorpe Manor, ostensibly to visit Annie, his niece, but actually to ascertain that Mannington has indeed gone away for a couple of days as he said. Which Annie confirmed.’

  That, at least, is a relief. ‘But why did Horwell drive you out to Crackthorpe Manor?’

  Vernon frowned. ‘I asked to hire a post-chaise, and he offered to take me himself. I did think it a bit odd, but...’ He shrugged. ‘I told him Mannington had fleeced a friend of mine and that I hope to bring him to book, so perhaps he is just relieved to have an ally against the man.’

  ‘Did you meet the Temples?’

  Another thought that had plagued her throughout that long afternoon. Vernon, with that...that... beauty.

  ‘No. I have a plan and that does not include making their acquaintance just yet. When Bickling arrives—’

  ‘Bickling?’

  ‘My groom.’

  ‘I know he is your groom, but he is at Stourwell Court.’

  ‘And that is why I sent my letter to Stourwell Court,’ he said in an exaggeratedly patient tone. ‘I have summoned him to come to Worcester and to bring my curricle and also my own clothing. I—’

  ‘You wrote to Stourwell Court and you did not think to tell me?’

  ‘I am telling you now.’

  ‘But... I could have sent for some of my clothes.’

  ‘But that makes no sense, Dotty my dear. You cannot parade around here as Dorothea Markham. Quite apart from the risk of Mannington seeing you, I need to gain the trust of Mr and Miss Temple, not drive them away with outrage and scandal. No, you have no choice but to remain as my nephew, Theo, for the time being. But take heart...at least you may remain as my nephew and not my by-blow,’ he added with a chuckle.

  Thea gazed gloomily at her plate. ‘I suppose you are right.’ She tried to shake free of the feeling that events were sweeping past her, leaving her mired in a backwater. ‘You were telling me of your plan.’

  ‘I was indeed. The reason I have sent for my curricle and my own clothes is that I, my dear Dotty, am about to become Viscount Boyton—no more plain Mister for me. I told Horwell this afternoon—in the strictest of confidence, of course—that my trunk has been delayed and that I’ve been forced to dress in borrowed clothing unti
l it arrives. He is thrilled that a member of the aristocracy is patronising his inn and I have little doubt that particular tale will spread in no time and will reach the ears of Mr Samuel Temple and his lovely daughter, Cordelia, to whom I shall be particularly attentive.’

  A sharp pain arrowed through Thea and she battled to keep her expression blank, appalled at the jealousy that erupted in her chest. She knew, logically, there was no reason to be jealous. But emotions were not logical.

  ‘This plan of yours,’ she said. ‘Would it not be better to target Mannington direct? Why bother with the Temples at all?’

  Vernon, chewing a mouthful of food, did not immediately answer, but his eyes were on her and, uncomfortable with his scrutiny, she began to eat her own meal. What if he could read her mind? There were times when she was certain he knew exactly the thoughts that chased around inside her head. She focused on her plate.

  ‘That would take too long. A man such as Mannington learns to be cautious of any new acquaintance. If I successfully charm my way into the lives of Mr Temple and his daughter—and I can be most charming when I try, Dotty, even though I say so myself—Henry Mannington will have no choice but to acknowledge my acquaintance. He will—quite wrongly, I do assure you—view me as a rival to the hand of Miss Temple.’

  Thea pushed her plate aside, any appetite flown. ‘I am in no need of your assurances, sir. I am sure it is none of my concern if you do aspire to the hand of Miss Temple.’ She stole a look through her lashes to gauge his reaction, then stiffened. ‘You laugh at me, but it is scarce five hours since I told you I was jilted at the altar. I envy no woman the attentions of any man. Of that, I assure you.’

  Vernon shook his head at her. ‘Not every man is deceitful in matters of the heart, Thea.’

  ‘Are they not?’

  She found her hand captured, engulfed by his much larger one, and her stomach performed a slow somersault.

  ‘They are not,’ he said firmly. ‘Thea...you are weighed down by the guilt over what happened to your papa and you tell yourself it is your duty to stay at home and help your mother. But what happened...it was not your fault. You must know that. All you did was trust the word of a scoundrel. Your father—older than you and, presumably, a shrewd man—was also taken in. Fraudsters such as Mannington are clever with words. They often have charm in abundance. No one would blame you for believing his lies and you should not blame yourself or allow your experience to sour you against all men.’