“Travelling like that, hiring new horses every few miles, I—I couldn’t.”
“Don’t be such a pudding heart!” Jeremy exclaimed, disgusted at his friend’s lack of bottom. “Dash it, George, if you are so uneasy, I shall accompany you and handle the details. When you meet Sarah in the park tomorrow, find out the best time for her to escape her uncle’s house unnoticed tomorrow night.”
His friend’s face lit up hopefully, then darkened again. “But I—I have no blunt for such a journey.”
“I’ll take care of that, too,” Jeremy reassured him, even though he knew that this would be the most difficult aspect of his scheme. Such a journey, its success imperative upon hiring prime cattle and changing them frequently, might well cost several hundred pounds or more. Especially when one considered that food and a private parlour must be provided for Sarah and her maid. Jeremy had only a small portion of that sum in his pockets at the moment, and it would be two weeks before he would receive the next instalment of his allowance.
If only he could take his father into his confidence, but Papa had been so emphatic that elopements were never permissible under any circumstances and that he would never condone or even permit his son to assist in one. In the past few days alone, he had told Jeremy at least a half-dozen times how sordid and scandalous and unnecessary he considered such flights, and how happy he was to know that his son would never participate in such a shabby, ramshackle affair.
So where was Jeremy to get the money? He remembered how unsuccessful his previous application to Mr Page for an advance on his allowance had been. There would be no help from that quarter. Suddenly a happy idea struck Jeremy. He would go to his father with the same request that he had made to Mr Page, saying he needed the blunt to buy Alyssa a diamond necklace that he had chosen. He had yet to give her a betrothal present, and it was past time he presented her with a token of his love. He winced at speaking to his father of either loving Alyssa or giving her a betrothal present, when he planned to cry off their engagement on the morrow. Although he excessively disliked lying to his father about why he needed the money, he saw no other way to save Sarah from that odious Stokes and unite her with her beloved George.
That worthy, however, was again in danger of being overwhelmed by the difficulties attending his elopement. “It will create such a scandal. The doors of polite society will be shut against poor Sarah. No one will receive her, and that would crush her. She must have a chaperon with her.”
“She will have her abigail,” Jeremy said.
“She don’t have one.”
Jeremy was undaunted. “We’ll borrow your sister’s. Letty will see that the girl goes with us.”
“Sarah must have a chaperon, too, to lend respectability,” George insisted with a mulish look upon his face.
Although George was normally the most obliging of fellows, when he got that look on his face, Jeremy knew that he would adhere to his demand as stubbornly as Jeremy himself and that it was a waste of breath to argue. “Bring your mother.”
George looked as though he had suddenly discovered his friend to be a raving lunatic. “My mother would never condone my eloping! Even if she did, which she won’t, she is too old for the trip you describe. No, we must find an older woman, but one who is not too old.” He broke into a broad grin. “I know; Alyssa. Surely she will help us? I know that you can persuade her.”
Jeremy suppressed a groan at what George was unknowingly asking of him: first, he would have to inform Alyssa that he no longer wished to marry her; then would somehow have to persuade his jilted betrothed, who gave every indication of abhorring elopements as much as his father, of aiding and abetting him in one.
He would have to try, of course, for George and Sarah’s sake, but the prospect of such a task was enough to keep Jeremy awake all night.
Chapter 14
Carlyle breakfasted alone the following morning. It was his second disappointment of the still-young day, for he was eager to talk to his son. But Jeremy had not returned home until the new day was far advanced, and he did not appear for breakfast.
The duke’s first disappointment had come when he had not seen Alyssa during his morning ride. Since she had ceded defeat to him the previous day and promised that she would not elope with Jeremy, Carlyle saw no reason why she should continue to avoid him by abandoning her rides in the park.
The events of the preceding day had left him considerably more charitable towards—and confused about—her. The contradictions that baffled him about her seemed to increase with each exposure to her. The previous day, she had again seemed like the frank, delightful woman he had first taken her to be. Since then, he had thought of little else but her. When he had learned from Jeremy that she would be going to the theatre, he had decided to go, too, asking his old friend, the Duchess of Berwick, to accompany him. He had hoped to steal unobtrusively a few minutes alone with Alyssa to hear her story, but Jeremy, as he had in the park, had returned too soon. As a result, Carlyle was in Alyssa’s debt for sparing his son a second time the truth about his dishonourable offer to her.
Images of her flashed through his mind: tilting her head in proud rejection of his silent invitation as she stood by the laburnum tree; fighting to control her spirited chestnut as it reared and plunged; kneeling in the mud beside little Eustice, scornful of her skirts and all else except the injured child on the ground; watching, face frozen with revulsion, as Stokes tormented poor Sarah Turner. The duke had been as disgusted as Alyssa at that sight. His fingers tightened about his fork as he wondered again what Alyssa had suffered at Lord Eliot’s hands. She haunted Carlyle. Perhaps Jeremy had been right to fear his father might be in his dotage and in danger of making a cake of himself. But over his son’s betrothed!
Charitable as he was feeling toward her, however, he was still uneasy about how conciliatory she had been in the park, promising not to elope with Jeremy. Yet she had predicted a happy ending to their story. What possible scheme could she have in mind that would achieve that? Whatever it was, she would have to act quickly, for the duke had detected on the previous day an exasperation in his son’s manner toward
his betrothed that bespoke of fading affection. Yet she had seemed wholly unconcerned and utterly confident that all would end happily for her. If only the detective that Hugh Page had hired would return with his report on her past so that he could show it to his son. So far there had been not a word from the man.
A sudden black suspicion as to what Alyssa’s strategy might be assailed the duke—and shook him to his soul. Remembering how easily she had fibbed to Jeremy about his offer to her, he wondered whether she could have been lying, too, when she had promised that she would not elope with Jeremy. Had she been lulling Carlyle into relaxing his guard over his son? The painful possibility that Alyssa’s sudden agreeability might be nothing more than a trick cost him his appetite. Frowning, he shoved back his chair and jumped up from the table.
Going into the book-room to review his accounts, the duke tried to reassure himself that his dark suspicions of Alyssa Raff were unfair and unjust. Surely she could not be so perfidious!
A half-hour later Jeremy stood outside the closed door of the book-room and screwed up his courage to face his father. The troubled youth had not slept, dreading this day as he had dreaded no other in his life. He hated having to lie to his father about why he needed money, but it was the only way he could hope to help George and Sarah. Knowing how much his father abhorred elopements, Jeremy was certain that he had no hope of obtaining the money if he told him the truth.
Most of all, however, Jeremy dreaded breaking the news to Alyssa that he no longer loved her and was crying off their betrothal. He was certain it would be a dreadful scene, full of tears and recriminations. Alyssa would be shocked and heartbroken, But no more shocked than he had been when he realised that his undying love for her had vanished into the ether. Jeremy recalled with discomfiting clarity his impassioned avowals to his father of his eternal love for Alyssa. Wh
at a gudgeon his father would think him when he learned that Jeremy’s “eternal’ love had lasted two weeks. But he had learned a valuable lesson. Never again would he offer for a woman until he had been long and well acquainted with her and was certain of his own heart.
Reluctantly, he opened the door of the book-room. “Papa, I must talk to you.”
The duke looked up from the papers spread in front of him. “Of course, Jeremy. Come in and tell me what is troubling you.” As the youth slid into the room, Carlyle gave him a warm, encouraging smile. “You do not look as though you have slept a wink.”
Jeremy, whose honest, guileless nature despised deceit, was beset by a sudden overpowering urge to confess to his father the reasons why he had not been able to sleep. Confess that he no longer wished to marry Alyssa and ask his father’s advice on how best to cry off his betrothal to her. Confess, too, that he needed money so that George Braden could elope with Sarah Turner. But to tell the truth would end all hope for George and Sarah. So, instead, Jeremy, his tired eyes evading his father’s, said nothing.
“You were out very late after the theatre?” the duke said finally.
“I was with George Braden. We had much to discuss.”
“Such as?” the duke shot back sharply.
Jeremy reddened, his gaze darting nervously about the book-lined room. “Ah... Ah... Nothing that would interest you.”
The duke’s penetrating eyes narrowed suspiciously at his son’s odd reaction. “You would be quite amazed at how broad my interests are.”
Jeremy remained silent. The duke sighed and gestured for his son to be seated in a chair across the writing table from his own. “What do you wish to discuss with me?”
Jeremy sank gratefully into the chair, blurting out as he did so, “I must have eight hundred pounds today.”
“Must have? My dear boy, whatever for?”
Jeremy twisted uneasily in the chair, his eyes fixed somewhere beyond his father’s left ear.
“I—I wish to buy Alyssa a betrothal gift, and I have picked out the most beautiful diamond necklace for her,” he stammered. Since he knew nothing about the price of diamonds, he was uncertain whether the sum he was requesting was outrageously high or unbelievably low for such a necklace.
His father’s dark eyebrows rose. “Has Miss Raff been demanding diamonds of you?”
“Oh, no, Papa!” Jeremy cried, his startled eyes meeting his father’s for the first time. “Never once has she asked for jewels of any kind.”
The duke looked as though he wanted to ask what Alyssa had asked for that cost eight hundred pounds, but he said nothing as his searching eyes continued to regard his son.
Jeremy’s gaze dropped to the vicinity of his father’s chest, and he stammered, “I—I n-naturally wish to present her with a gift befitting a future duchess.”
“Naturally,” his father said dryly, a thin, unpleasant smile creasing his mouth. “And so you shall.”
“Oh, Papa, thank you!” Jeremy cried joyfully, clearly startled at how easily his father had agreed to his request. “I must have the money this morning.”
“But you have no need of money, my dear Jeremy. Perhaps you are not aware that the Carlyle jewels include a justly famous diamond necklace that you may give her. It is worth far more than a paltry eight hundred pounds.”
It had never occurred to Jeremy that his father might offer him a piece from the family jewels instead of giving him the blunt he needed. He was so stunned and crestfallen at this unexpected turn that it was a long moment before he managed to stammer, “B—But I do not wish to give her that necklace. I do not like it at all.”
“I was not aware that you had ever seen it.”
Jeremy flushed and stared down at his lap. “Ah... Grandmama showed it to me once, and it is so... so... er... trumpery.”
“Trumpery! My dear boy, I assure you that your betrothed will not think so. But if that particular necklace offends you, there is a spectacular one, reputed to be one of the most beautiful in the world, that was given to your late mama by Louis XV. She was his favourite grand-daughter, and it was a gift worthy both of a king and of his affection for her. Any woman would be ecstatic over such a rare and splendid gift.”
Jeremy grew even redder, opening and closing his mouth wordlessly several times. What was he to do now? He could not rush about London trying to pawn his mama’s necklace to raise money to finance his friend’s elopement. Finally he faltered, “Please, Papa, I want to give Alyssa something that I myself have chosen for her.”
“I do not mean to disparage your taste, but I can assure you that Miss Raff, or any other woman in her right, mind, would prefer one of those I have offered you.”
“P-Perhaps she would, Papa, but I have my heart quite set on giving her the necklace that I picked out for her,” Jeremy said. His tone was firmer than it had yet been, but he still could not meet his father’s gaze.
Carlyle shrugged indifferently. “Very well.”
Jeremy smiled happily, exclaiming, “I knew you would understand.”
“Frankly, Jeremy, I do not. But if you insist that it must be the necklace that you picked out, then we shall drive to the jeweller’s and purchase it. Where is the shop located?”
“Oh, no, Papa, you cannot come with me!” the youth cried in dismay.
“Why not?”
Jeremy stared at the books behind his father’s head. “Only think how mortifying it would be to me to have my father accompanying me while I buy a gift for my betrothed. It would look as though I were not yet a man able to deal with my own affairs. Please, Papa, give me the money and let me go alone,” Jeremy pleaded, wondering desperately how he had ever managed to get himself into such a coil. He despised himself for lying to his father, but George was depending on him.
Carlyle studied his son for a long moment. Finally he said, “Very well. I shall tell Hugh Page to have the sum you require ready for you by noon.”
Jeremy, breathing a long sigh of relief, tried to thank his father, but the duke cut him off, saying, “I own I am a trifle surprised at your sudden wish to make Miss Raff a gift.”
“Why?”
The duke shrugged carelessly. “It appeared to me yesterday that your affections for her had diminished.”
Jeremy’s startled gaze flew up to meet Carlyle’s for only the second time since he had entered the room. I low astute his father was, and how the son longed to pour out the truth to him.
The duke regarded him lazily through half-closed lids. “Are you still angry with me for refusing you my permission to marry her immediately?”
“No, Papa. We.. .uh.. .We are in no hurry to wed,” Jeremy stammered guiltily, thinking of how he was about to break his betrothal.
“I am relieved to hear that,” the duke said, not looking in the least relieved. “I had great faith that I could trust you to abide by my wishes and not involve yourself in anything so sordid and scandalous as an elopement to Gretna Green.”
Jeremy flinched at the mention of Gretna Green, which caused Carlyle’s mouth to tighten ominously. But the youth failed to notice because he was staring fixedly down at his feet in his continuing effort to avoid his father’s eyes.
“It is such a comfort to me, my dear boy, to know that you have proved yourself worthy of my trust.”
Jeremy was too unhappy to recognise the irony in his father’s tone. “Pray, excuse me, Papa. I have much to do today.” Without waiting for his father’s permission, he turned and fled from the room.
The expression on Carlyle’s face as he watched his son’s hasty departure was so forbidding that his butler, entering the door from which Jeremy had just exited, took one look and retreated with undignified speed.
It was the first time, to the duke’s knowledge, that his son had lied to him. So had the cunning Alyssa lied. But, damn her, her plot would not succeed! He knew just how he would stop their runaway marriage to Gretna Green. Miss Raff was in for the shock of her scheming life. Carlyle jumped up and hurried
to the door.
First, he must give Hugh Page his orders.
Chapter 15
After leaving his father, a much-shaken Jeremy went to the park where George rendezvoused with Sarah each morning. Here the marquess sustained another shock. Much as she loved George and despised Stokes, timid, proper little Sarah was terrified at the prospect of a mad dash to the border and shocked by its impropriety. She would agree to the journey only if Alyssa, whom Sarah held in considerable awe, would accompany her as chaperon. If Alyssa would not go, neither would Sarah.
“Alyssa will go, I promise you,” Jeremy said, although he was far from certain that he could convince her.
It was arranged that Sarah would sneak out of her uncle’s house at 9:30 p.m. George would be waiting outside for her, while Jeremy would come with the post-chaise.
Leaving the young lovers in the park, Jeremy went directly to Alyssa’s. The meetings with both his father and Sarah had gone so much worse than he had expected that he was exceedingly nervous and certain that the interview with Alyssa would be the worst of his life.
To his surprise, however, she took her jilting with amazing calm. In fact, as he stumbled about trying to find words to lessen the blow he was delivering her, Alyssa seemed to be comforting him.
“Do not be so distressed, Jeremy,” she said. “I doubted that your attachment to me was strong and deep enough to survive. I am happy that you have discovered your own mind before we made an irrevocable mistake.” She smiled at him without rancour. “I shall always be very fond of you, Jeremy, and I hope that we can remain friends.”
Although Alyssa responded to the ending of her betrothal with remarkable understanding and good humour, she proved less amenable to accompanying an elopement party to Gretna Green.
“What does your father say of your scheme?” she asked.
“He cannot know about it until it is over, or he will find a way to stop it. He is not in the least romantic.”
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