Seagrave, realising that the servants were providing them with a large and fascinated audience, closed the drawing-room door. ‘You must tell us all about it, Mama!’ he said smoothly. ‘I am amazed you had not mentioned your…ah…mission to find Miss Kellaway to either of us before!’
The Countess had the grace to look a little embarrassed. ‘Lord, Nicholas, I never see you or Peter at Everden from one year to the next!’ She viewed her recalcitrant sons with exasperation. ‘Both your sister and I would have been happy to tell you of our quest for Lucille had you put in an appearance!’
‘So Polly is involved in this as well, is she?’ Seagrave marvelled. ‘You perceive me positively agog, Mama…’
‘Your sister will join us later, I am sure,’ Lady Seagrave said. ‘She has gone upstairs to rest for a little. She has the headache.’ She turned a glowing face to Lucille. ‘Oh, she will be so pleased when I tell her! We had quite given up hope of ever finding you!’
Peter was shaking his head in disbelief. Seagrave looked as though he was trying not to laugh. He opened the door briefly to order some more refreshments, then closed it again very firmly.
Lady Seagrave subsided on to the couch in a sussuration of silks and laces, and patted the seat beside her to encourage Lucille to sit down. Seagrave took an armchair opposite, crossing his long legs at the ankle, and Peter moved across to the window and propped himself against the sill. The Countess gave Lucille her enchanting smile.
‘You look completely bowled over, my poor child, and no wonder! What a splendid coincidence that Nicholas should have brought you here this morning! But…’ she turned her enquiring gaze on her elder son ‘…I understood you to be saying that there was a particular purpose to Miss Kellaway’s visit?’
‘That can wait, Mama,’ Seagrave interposed swiftly, with a warning glance at Lucille. ‘As it turns out, we need your help, but for now we are all on tenterhooks to hear your story!’
Lucille, sitting where the Countess directed, was completely confused by the turn of events. She had steeled herself to expect hostility from Lady Seagrave, if not direct rudeness. This dazzling warmth was so completely unexpected that she was almost afraid she was dreaming. The events of the entire morning now seemed strangely unreal. Any moment she would awaken in her bed at Cookes—or perhaps in her bed at Miss Pym’s school, to find that it had all been an impossible dream…
‘You are all kindness, ma’am,’ she stammered. ‘I had not expected such a welcome.’
Lady Seagrave touched her hand lightly. ‘I have long been hoping to meet you, my dear. I have been shockingly remiss towards you in the past, I know, but I hope you will forgive me!’ She saw that Lucille’s look of perplexity had deepened and added, ‘You see, Miss Kellaway—may I call you Lucille?—I am your godmother!’
‘Godmother!’ Both Seagrave brothers spoke simultaneously. Lady Seagrave frowned at them. ‘Now, how am I to explain matters when you keep interrupting me? I do wish you would both be quiet!’
There was silence in the room. Lady Seagrave settled herself more comfortably, and addressed Lucille.
‘Just as background, my dear, I wonder how well you know your parents’ family situation?’
‘Not at all well, ma’am,’ Lucille said, even more confused than she had been before. Surely the Countess could not be her godmother? She had thought that the Markhams were godparents to both herself and Susanna, as well as being their guardians.
‘Well,’ Lady Seagrave said with a sigh, ‘I suppose I should tell you a little, for it is pertinent to the situation. The Kellaways were once a respected county family—very wild, of course, and when that odious girl Serena ran off and married beneath her there were plenty to say it was no more than they expected…’ She heard Seagrave give an exaggerated sigh at this digression and gave him a quelling look. ‘Anyway, your father, my dear, inherited a tidy estate over at Westwell, and promptly sold it to finance his travels! He had been a contemporary of my dear husband’s at Oxford, and Gerald offered him the lease of Cookes so that he at least had a roof over his head! Not that he was often in Dillingham, for he travelled nearly all the time.’ She paused for breath and smiled to see that she had the rapt attention of her audience.
‘It was on one of his tours of Italy that he met your mother, Lucille. Oh, Grace Kellaway was a lovely girl! So fair, so delicate! You have a great look of her, you know! She was distantly related to the Hampshire Fordhams, I believe, but her branch of the family never had any money and so she was acting as companion to a rich old woman. The Fordhams are so high in the instep as to be ridiculous, given that—’ She broke off, having caught Seagrave’s eye. ‘Well, that’s nothing to the purpose! But George swept Grace off her feet, married her and brought her back to Dillingham.’
Her gaze, misty eyed for a moment, rested on Lucille, who had propped her chin on her hand as she listened, absorbed, to the tale of her parents’ romance. ‘A year later Grace gave birth to you and your sister,’ the Countess said, a little gruffly. ‘You were beautiful babies! And at first all was well with her. George asked his cousins, the Markhams, to stand as godparents for your sister, but he asked Gerald and myself to sponsor you. “The elder always has all the advantages,” he said to me, “so it seems only fair for the younger to have you.” Of course, we agreed.’ Lady Seagrave paused to wipe away a surreptitious tear. ‘After that, it all went wrong! Grace was taken ill with childbed fever and George was devastated.’
She sniffed away the tears and this time it was Lucille who put a hand out to comfort her.
‘Oh, dear ma’am, please do not distress yourself!’
‘No, no, my child, it’s all right.’ The Countess took out her lacy handkerchief. ‘It was just a terrible tragedy, for George Kellaway was so deep in love with his bride! I think the only way he could cope with his loss was to go travelling again, and after that he was seldom at home. And then there were the Markhams, so anxious to have a family that they offered to take you and your sister and give you a home! It seemed for the best.’
There was a tentative knock at the door and a bashful footman appeared with a tray of refreshments. He looked so startled to see Lady Seagrave and Lucille sitting next to each other that he would have dropped the tray had Peter not moved swiftly to intercept it.
‘Of course, we lost touch with what happened to you and your sister,’ Lady Seagrave resumed. ‘I was not even aware until quite recently that Gilbert Markham had died. An old friend, unaware of my connection with the Kellaway family, was recounting the scandalous tale of how your sister came to become—’ She caught Seagrave’s eye again, and cleared her throat. ‘Anyway, she told me that it was entirely because you had been left destitute on the death of your adoptive father that Susanna had turned to…her profession. I took this with a pinch of salt, for I knew George Kellaway was still alive and thought that he must have provided for you. It was only when I received the letter that I realised!’
Seagrave stirred in his armchair. Lucille jumped. She had almost forgotten he was there—almost, but not quite, since it was impossible to ignore his physical presence.
‘The letter, Mama?’ he said patiently.
‘From Churchward and Churchward, of course!’ The Countess turned back to Lucille. ‘They wrote to me, enclosing a letter from your father. They are our family lawyers, you know, and quite by chance they also looked after George Kellaway’s estate. They also held his will.’
Lucille frowned. ‘I was not aware that he had any estate, ma’am! And as for his will—did he not die intestate?’
The Countess snorted. ‘Certainly not! Kellaway may have been a ramshackle fellow, but he knew better than that!’
‘But Susanna said that there was no will! Her man of business had checked! She was entitled to nothing but the lease of Cookes!’ Lucille blushed as she caught Seagrave watching her. ‘I beg your pardon, sir, I understand that the lease of Cookes is within your gift! But the fact remains that there was nothing else for her to inherit exce
pt the contents of the house!’
‘There was nothing for her to inherit because she was not in the will!’ Lady Seagrave said, with asperity. ‘George explained it all to me. At the last, he was remorseful that he had been abroad when Markham died, and that he had never done anything to help you both. He had heard that you had become a teacher, Lucille, and I think he admired you for that. He hoped that you had inherited some of his interest in scholarship. Perhaps he even regretted that he had never had the opportunity to discuss it with you.’ She saw the cloud that touched Lucille’s face and sighed. ‘Anyway, he left it too late. And the only recompense he could think of was to leave you his fortune.’
‘That is nothing in comparison, ma’am—’ Lucille said, in a choked voice.
‘True.’ Lady Seagrave looked approving. ‘I imagine that you must sometimes have wondered about him, longed to meet him…He asked me, as your godmother, to try to find you and acquaint you with the news of your inheritance. Unfortunately, he did not say where you were teaching, and I was not at first able to find your direction. I had lost touch with the Markhams long ago, so first I had to trace them to ask after you. I finally found Mrs Markham about four weeks ago, and was directed by her to Miss Pym’s school. Of course, by the time I had discovered the school, you had left for Cookes…So here I am, my dear, mightily glad to have found you at last!’
Lucille spared a thought for Mr Kingston, who had been left to hold the fort at Miss Pym’s and must have been quite taken aback by the sudden and inexplicable popularity of their junior mistress. First Hetty, and then Lady Seagrave seeking her out!
‘Dare we ask about George Kellaway’s estate, Mama?’ Peter enquired with a grin. He turned to Lucille. ‘I apologise for my curiosity, Miss Kellaway, but I now view you quite as one of the family, and I hope that excuses me!’
Lucille met Seagrave’s sardonic gaze again and blushed. It was impossible to believe that he could hold the same sentiments. How he could feel at discovering this unwanted link between them, she dared not even imagine.
‘George Kellaway asked me to be utterly discreet about his fortune,’ Lady Seagrave said, virtuously. ‘He had no wish to publicise his daughter’s prospects! He knew it would give rise to an ill-bred curiosity! However,’ she added to Lucille, her dark eyes sparkling, ‘your father was an unconventional man, my dear, so it is no surprise that he made his fortune working for a Chinese warlord! Make no enquiry into the service he rendered him—suffice it to say that the gentleman in question paid him in precious stones and solid gold bars!’
As Lucille gasped in shock, Seagrave and his brother exchanged a look.
‘Now that,’ Seagrave said with feeling, ‘is a story well worth putting about, Mama!’
‘Extraordinary business,’ Peter Seagrave said, chalking the end of his billiard cue. ‘And Miss Kellaway an heiress! I don’t mind admitting, Nick, when you ushered her through the door this morning I thought Mama would cut up rough! When she fell on Miss Kellaway’s neck like a long-lost relative, you could have knocked me down with a feather! Thought she was touched in the upper works, though I dare say I shouldn’t say such a thing.’
Seagrave laughed. The brothers had been imperiously banished from the drawing-room by their mother, who had declared that she wanted to spend some time getting to know her goddaughter. They were now playing a desultory game of billiards whilst they waited for their idiosyncratic parent to summon them again, though both of their thoughts were preoccupied, if for different reasons.
‘Mustn’t forget about Miss Markham in all of this,’ Peter said suddenly. ‘It’s all very well Miss Kellaway suddenly being rich and respectable, but where does that leave her adoptive sister?’
‘Don’t worry, Peter.’ Seagrave measured his shot and sank the ball with expert precision. ‘If I know Miss Kellaway, she’ll be confessing all to Mama at this very moment! By the time we see them again,’ he added sardonically, ‘they will have hatched some plot to explain Miss Kellaway’s masquerade and have saved Miss Markham’s reputation into the bargain!’
There was a note in his voice which made Peter glance up at him curiously. ‘Miss Kellaway told you, then? What did you make of it all?’
‘An extraordinary business,’ Seagrave echoed his brother’s words dryly. ‘Miss Kellaway must have more of her father’s wildness than one might have previously imagined! And now she is so rich, you see, she will be tolerated as an Original! No doubt she will buy a cottage, keep cats and hold bluestocking soirées!’ This time there was no mistaking the undertone of bitterness in his voice.
Peter hesitated a moment. ‘Did she tell you why she did it?’ he asked tentatively, uncertain how far he could trespass. Despite their seven-year age gap he had always been close to Seagrave, but there were times when Peter knew better than to pry.
‘Yes.’ Seagrave turned to look beyond the formal gardens to the meadows, shimmering in a heat haze. His expression was distant. ‘I understand from what she said that she wanted to escape; the school stifled her and the society in which she found herself was not stimulating…She is fortunate that she now has the means to indulge herself without having to resort to subterfuge!’
Peter almost said that he would expect his brother to sympathise with Miss Kellaway, since one of the features of his own existence had been the overriding boredom that had beset him in civilian life. However, one glance at Seagrave’s face suggested that this would not be wise. The Earl was looking angry, an observation which was borne out by his next shot, which was wildly off target and played with more force than accuracy.
Peter sank his shot and won the game.
‘Damnation,’ Seagrave said emotionlessly. ‘Something else for which to blame Miss Kellaway!’
‘Devil take it, Nick!’ Peter was moved to protest, against his better judgement. ‘She’s a nice girl, not up to snuff in the ways of the world, perhaps, but scarcely the hardened deceiver you make her out to be! Why, I’ll wager the trick was a schoolgirl game, one sister pretending to be the other! I’m sure Miss Kellaway never imagined it would get her into trouble—’
He broke off at the look of cynical amusement on Seagrave’s face. ‘Now there,’ he said, ‘I must agree with you, little brother! Miss Kellaway had no notion of the difficulties in which she would find herself!’ His amusement died. ‘An innocent abroad,’ he said softly, as he had done the night he had discovered the masquerade, ‘and with no more idea of how to go on!’
Peter stared. He had never heard that tone from his brother before. And as their eyes met there was an expression there he had never seen before either.
‘I think you should know that I would have done a great deal to save Miss Kellaway from the consequences of her own folly.’ For once Seagrave’s voice was devoid of mockery. ‘Now that circumstances have changed, though, I imagine it will not be necessary, and I find that…disappointing…’
Peter paused, resting on his cue, and viewed his brother with a mixture of amazement and disbelief. ‘Nick! Are you saying—?’
Seagrave turned away. ‘I find Miss Kellaway…interesting, Peter. She is not at all in the common style! And she is hardly an antidote, is she?’
‘Hardly,’ Peter agreed with feeling. He found himself standing with his mouth open. He had never, ever heard his brother admit to an interest in a woman, other than in the purely physical sense.
‘Do you know whether she intends to stay in Dillingham for long?’ he asked, obliquely trying to discover the precise nature of his brother’s feelings. Seagrave was not deceived. He grinned.
‘I believe that Miss Kellaway would flee Cookes immediately were I to let her! However, I have managed to persuade her that it is in Miss Markham’s best interests for her to stay a little while, and by the time you and Miss Markham are formally betrothed—’ he gave his brother a look of sardonic amusement ‘—I shall have persuaded Miss Kellaway to marry me!’
Peter swallowed hard, running a finger around the inside of his collar, unsure how many
shocks his constitution could take in a single morning. ‘You’re very sure of my intentions towards Miss Markham,’ he said, with a grin. ‘And what of yourself, Nick? Are you suggesting another marriage of convenience?’
‘Like my proposal to Miss Elliott?’ Seagrave smiled slightly. ‘At that time I thought that if I had to marry someone then she would be as good as any! An insufferably arrogant attitude, although I console myself by thinking it would have been as much of a business arrangement on her part as mine! But Miss Kellaway…’ His voice softened with a betraying tenderness. ‘She is a very different matter. Not least because I wonder if she would accept me!’ His smile faded. ‘I do care for her, but I find I can love her no more than I could anyone else. I would not wish to delude myself or deceive her. I wonder, is it truly fair to offer marriage to such a woman on those terms?’
Peter expelled his breath on a long sigh. He had been afraid of this, afraid that Seagrave’s coldness, although showing all the signs of thawing, would not melt into love for his future bride. Perhaps a strong mutual regard was the best that could be hoped for, but it seemed very sad, and a pale reflection of what could be…
‘No,’ he said quietly, ‘it is not fair to offer Miss Kellaway marriage on those terms. But—you will do it anyway, will you not, Nick?’
Their eyes met. ‘Yes,’ the Earl of Seagrave said slowly. ‘I do not intend to let her go.’
With his own perceptions heightened by his feelings for Hetty Markham, Peter was ready to dispute his brother’s claim that he could not love Lucille Kellaway. He suspected that Seagrave’s feelings ran far deeper than he might know himself, and hoped that he would not discover this too late.
‘You seem very certain that your heart will remain untouched, Nick,’ he said with gentle satire. ‘I think you mistake! You have so much reprehensible experience, and yet you still do not realise that your feelings are truly engaged this time!’
Upon which challenging statement he sauntered out of the room, whistling under his breath, and leaving his brother staring at the door panels with a suddenly arrested expression on his face.
Virtuous Cyprian Page 15
