The Mistress of Hanover Square

by Anne Herries

  A shadow passed across his face. ‘It was expected and yet it was sudden. Father knew he had only a few months, but in the end we thought it would not be quite so soon. Mama was distraught. I could not leave her before this—but I must and will see Emily.’

  ‘Of course you must. Why should you not?’

  ‘I was told that I could not see her because she is ill.’ Toby’s face was white, his manner desperate. ‘I cannot blame her if she hates me—but still I must see her. I know something that she must be told.’

  ‘You have news for Emily?’ Amelia stared at him, seeing the excitement, the triumph in his eyes. Her intuition told her what the news must be. ‘Did Harry find the child?’

  ‘His agents were able to help point me in the right direction, but I found her myself only yesterday. I would have been here sooner, but the circumstances…and then I heard news that delayed me.’

  ‘You have come to tell Emily that you’ve found the child?’ Amelia stared at him in dawning delight.

  ‘Yes, I am pleased to say I have—but first Harry bid me speak to you, Gerard.’ Toby turned towards him. ‘He has learned that an attempt to murder Northaven was made three days ago. He was shot in the back, but the assassin’s aim was poor and the ball merely grazed his shoulder. Harry told me that Emily was abducted and that Northaven helped her…and that may be the reason why he was shot.’

  ‘Good grief! Has Harry spoken to him?’

  ‘He told me that he would do so today—and then he will come here. He may bring Northaven with him.’

  ‘Thank you for coming to me.’ Gerard’s mouth thinned. ‘This becomes serious…if Northaven was shot because of what I asked him to do, it means they will stop at nothing.’

  ‘Gerard…’ Amelia’s eyes sought his in concern. ‘This is far worse than I imagined. If they would kill the marquis because he helped Emily escape…’

  Gerard turned to her. ‘Go up to Emily. See if you can persuade her to come down,’ he said. ‘I would have a few words alone with Toby.’

  ‘Yes, of course.’ Amelia glanced at Toby. ‘Emily is lying down with a headache, but I will ask her to see you in the front parlour. Tell me, is the news good for her?’

  ‘I hope she will think it excellent.’

  ‘Very well. I shall let you tell her yourself.’

  Amelia ran upstairs. For the moment her suspicions must be shelved. She was not sure when she had begun to suspect that something was not quite as it ought to be in Marguerite’s manner—perhaps only in the last day or so, or this very morning. Now she was feeling concerned, for though she was certain that the woman would never harm a child, she could not be trusted if she were under the influence of a man who would kill anyone who stood in his way.

  She had been unwilling to send Marguerite away until she had proof and had taken the precaution she thought necessary, but this latest news had made her uneasy. If Gerard wished to dismiss Marguerite, she could not deny him.

  She paused at Emily’s door to compose herself. Emily answered her knock, her eyes suspiciously red.

  ‘Amelia…please don’t ask me to see him. I cannot…’

  ‘You would be foolish not to do so, my love. He has come here to see you—and he has something important to tell you.’ She saw the doubt and fear in Emily’s eyes and touched her hand. ‘Do not look so nervous, Emily. I think you must hear what he has to say. It may turn out better than you imagine. I believe he has your happiness at heart.’

  Emily raised her head, a glimmer of hope in her face. ‘If you think I must see him…’

  ‘Yes, you must. He has done you a service. It was something I hoped to do for you, but Toby has news. I shall let him tell you. Wash your face and go down to him now…’ Amelia paused. ‘Did Marguerite bring you some camomile tea?’

  ‘Yes, but I poured it away.’

  ‘Good. I expected you would do so. I think you have been suspicious of her from the start. Now tidy yourself and go down to the front parlour, my love. I shall tell Toby you are willing to see him.’

  When Amelia returned to the back parlour, she discovered that Toby was alone. He turned to her eagerly, smiling in relief as she inclined her head.

  ‘Emily will come down to the front parlour in a few minutes.’

  ‘I cannot thank you enough,’Toby said and looked awkward. ‘I know I have hurt her. You must think badly of me.’

  ‘Your apology must be to her. I trust you do not intend to hurt her again?’

  ‘Not for the world!’

  ‘Then you need say no more to me, sir.’ Amelia smiled and glanced round. ‘Did Gerard say where he was going?’

  ‘He said he must speak to Max and told me to wait for you here. He said to tell you that he would explain later.’

  ‘Yes, I am sure he will, thank you. Tell me, has the child been well cared for?’

  His smile faded. ‘I fear she has not been treated as she ought, but she is in good hands now. I left her with my mother, who is preparing to spoil her.’

  ‘Does Lady Sinclair know whose child she is?’

  ‘Mama has been told all she needs to know for now. Excuse me—I must not keep Emily waiting.’

  ‘Of course.’ Amelia smiled as he left the room hurriedly. She had not asked his intentions, but she could only feel that Emily’s future was assured. Toby Sinclair had acted in his usual impulsive way. His reaction to the news that Emily had given birth to a child had been one of shock, but the time accorded him by his father’s death had clearly brought him to understand what was important. The fact that he had found the child and taken her to his home said all that needed to be said in Amelia’s opinion.

  She wished that her own affairs might be settled as easily. It would not sit easily with her conscience if she had brought danger to Lisa by inviting a woman she had thought of as a friend to this house. Yet even though her mind was tortured with doubts, she could not imagine why Marguerite would wish to harm any of them. Unless, of course, she had fallen under a man’s spell…

  Feeling uneasy, she decided to visit the nursery again even though it was well past the time for nuncheon.

  As it happened, only Marguerite was in the small dining parlour when Amelia entered it after a brief visit to the nursery. She had discovered Beattie playing a game with strands of wool bound about the child’s fingers. Lisa had been perfectly happy, absorbed in the game.Amelia watched for a few minutes and left them to it. Beattie obviously knew how to amuse children. A governess would need to be found in time, but for the moment Lisa was safe and happy.

  Marguerite stood up as Amelia entered. ‘No one else has come to nuncheon, Amelia. I sent the maid away for I can serve myself. Would you like me to serve you?’

  ‘No, thank you.’ Amelia went to the sideboard where an array of cold meats, cheese and bread with butter and savoury preserves had been laid out. ‘I do not wish for very much. Please continue with your meal, Marguerite. I have just spoken to Emily. She told me that the tea you made for her was helpful.’

  ‘I am so pleased. I am sure that it was the tisane that upset her before. Some people are more sensitive to herbs than others.’

  ‘Do you often make tisanes yourself?’

  ‘I made them for Mama,’ Marguerite said. ‘After Lucinda died, she often suffered with irritation of the nerves. She could not sleep without her tisanes.’

  ‘I sometimes have nights when I do not sleep well, but Martha’s tisanes have helped me.’

  ‘I hope she does not use laudanum. It can be dangerous if you use too much. I have known it to kill.’

  ‘No, I think she merely uses herbs.’ Amelia sat down at the table with her plate in front of her. ‘Is your mother better now?’

  ‘Oh, yes. I could not have left her otherwise.’ Marguerite sipped a glass of water.

  ‘I am sure she relies on you, Marguerite. If she should need you, you must not hesitate to tell me.’

  ‘I am sure she will not.’ A closed expression had come over Marguerite’s face. �
��Would you wish me to take some food up to Emily?’

  ‘Oh, no, I do not think she wishes for food at the moment.’ Amelia forked a small piece of ham. ‘I know that you love children, for you have told me so often—has there never been anyone you would like to marry?’

  Marguerite hesitated. Her eyes did not meet Amelia’s as she said, ‘There was once someone I liked, but Lucinda ruined my chances. He went away and I did not see him again. Papa would not have allowed it even had he asked me.’

  ‘I am sorry, my dear. That was sad for you. You have had a hard time of it since your sister died.’

  ‘Lucinda was a fool.’ Marguerite stood up. ‘Besides, men can never be trusted. You should remember that, Amelia. Do not put too much faith in the man you marry or you may be hurt. Excuse me. I must see to some lessons for Lisa. If you need me, I shall be in my room.’

  ‘Yes, of course.’

  Amelia ate her solitary lunch. She was not sure whether or not she had driven Marguerite away with her questions, but she had felt it necessary to ask them. It was as she stood up to leave the dining parlour that she heard the ring of boots on marble tiles. She looked towards the door, waiting, expecting Gerard, and gasped as instead she saw her brother enter.

  ‘Michael—what are you doing here?’

  ‘Did you expect me to ignore your letter?’ He glared at her. ‘You cannot truly intend to marry that scoundrel, Amelia? After all the warnings I have given you…’

  ‘Please, come into the back parlour where we may be private,’ Amelia told him. ‘I would be glad if you speak in a softer tone, Michael. If we are to quarrel, it should not carry to the servants. I do not care to have my private business open knowledge.’

  ‘It will be known soon enough if I have my way. This marriage cannot go ahead. I forbid it.’

  She led the way into the small parlour she had begun to make her own. It overlooked pleasant gardens and had a French window, which she could have open when the weather permitted, enabling her to walk on to a stone terrace. The room itself was furnished comfortably with wing chairs, occasional tables and a desk where she could see herself writing letters in the future. She might make a few changes, bring some of her personal effects into the room, but for the moment it served very well. A fire had been lit and it was warm despite the bitter cold day.

  When the door was closed, she turned to face her brother. His neck was red with temper and she noticed the fine purple lines mottling his nose and cheeks. His temper and his lifestyle had not improved his looks, for he had been handsome as a young man.

  ‘I shall be honest with you. I hoped you would not come, Michael. Let me tell you at once that you cannot change my mind. I do not see why you should wish to. Gerard may not have come up to your standards when he was younger, but he is the Earl of Ravenshead now and his fortune is sufficient for his needs.’

  ‘Can you not see that it is your fortune that interests him now? You are an old maid, Amelia. If he wished for a wife, he might find a dozen young girls to catch his interest. Depend upon it, he wants your money. The man is a scoundrel and not to be trusted.’

  Amelia’s expression remained unchanged despite his deliberately hurtful words, which were uncannily similar to Marguerite’s.

  ‘You are wrong, Michael. Gerard has told me that I may order my fortune as I wish. We shall secure much of it to my children; the rest will pay for the upkeep of my orphanage and be at my disposal if I need it.’

  ‘And you believe him? The man is a rogue. Listen to me, sister—or you may be sorry. I have had a letter informing me that his first wife took her own life because of his cruelty. It was not signed, but I believe it to be true.’

  ‘It is a wicked lie. I know what happened. Lisette took her own life, it is true, but it was not Gerard’s fault.’ Amelia lifted her eyes to his. ‘If you have a good cause for your objection to my marriage, tell me—otherwise please leave me in peace.’

  ‘You have got above yourself, miss. If you had done your duty to your family and allowed me the control of your fortune, none of this need have happened.’

  ‘If my aunt had wished you to control my fortune, she would have left it to you.’Amelia glared at him. ‘You have not answered my questions—why do you so dislike Gerard?’

  ‘You will force me to tell you.’Sir Michael glared at her. ‘I have tried to bring you to your senses, Amelia. I do not wish to break your heart—’

  ‘Indeed? You had no such scruples when you had Gerard beaten and sent him away.’

  ‘I had him beaten for good reason. I believed—I still believe—that he was Lucinda Ross’s lover. I also think that he may have had a hand in her death…that he threw her into the river when he discovered that she was with child. Even then, you were a better match.’

  Amelia staggered as if he had struck her, reeling from the shock. ‘No! You accuse him of such wickedness to spite us. It is not true. It cannot be true. I shall not listen to your lies. What proof have you that any of this is true?’ Her face had drained of colour and she could only stare at him in horror. ‘No…it is not so…’

  It must be a wicked lie and yet, if it were true, all the things Marguerite had been saying to her would make sense. She had been trying to warn Amelia from the moment she came and found her with Gerard, about to kiss.

  ‘I do not believe it. He could not…he loved me.’

  ‘Damn you, listen to me.’ Michael scowled at her. ‘I know that I saw them together in the woods some weeks before she died. She was in his arms, kissing him as if her life depended upon it—and I believe that he may have been near the river the day she died.’

  ‘I do not believe you—this is all lies. Gerard could not…he would not…’Amelia shook her head and sat down as her legs threatened to give way. Supposing Gerard had never loved her…that he had seduced Lucinda at the same time as he had courted Amelia? He had married only a short time after their parting. He swore he had never loved Lisette…but was it all lies? Her heart would not believe it, but her mind told her that there must be a grain of truth in her brother’s words. Yet still she continued to deny it. ‘Gerard was visiting his uncle at that time. Besides, he would not have done such a wicked thing! Gerard would not…’ A little sob broke from her. ‘He would not…’

  ‘What would I not do?’

  Amelia turned her head and saw him standing in the doorway. He was staring at her, his eyes narrowed, angry. ‘Gerard—how much did you hear?’

  ‘Only your last words.’ His gaze narrowed, moved to her brother. ‘To what do we owe this pleasure, sir?’

  ‘It does not please me to visit under your roof.’ Sir Michael glared at him. ‘Well, I have spoken my piece. I shall not linger.’

  ‘Leaving already?’ Gerard barred his way as he would have left them. ‘You will oblige me by telling me what you have said to Amelia. I know that you despise me, sir. I would hear your reasons from your own lips.’

  ‘Very well,’ Sir Michael said. ‘I know your evil heart, Ravenshead. You were Lucinda Ross’s lover—and it is my belief that when she told you she was with child, you killed her.’

  Gerard’s face went white with shock. ‘That is a foul lie! How can you make such an accusation? You have no proof. It is without foundation.’

  ‘I saw you kissing Lucinda in the woods—my woods,’ Sir Michael said. ‘It was the kind of kiss a young woman gives only to her lover—and it is my belief that you killed her when she threatened to tell everyone that you were her lover.’

  ‘Lucinda kissed me once in the woods—that I shall not deny,’ Gerard replied, a little nerve flicking at his right temple. He glanced at Amelia. ‘I had forgot it, but it came back to me recently. She declared that she loved me and threw her arms about me. I pushed her away and told her not to be foolish. At no time was she my lover—nor did she ever threaten to reveal that I was the father of her child. She could not, for I did not lie with her. Whatever you may have heard to the contrary, I was visiting friends elsewhere when she killed herse
lf. I returned to ask for Amelia’s hand—and you were waiting for me, Royston.’ He lifted his head, nostrils flared, proud, angry. ‘I had no idea of what had happened to a girl I hardly knew until some time later.’

  Amelia’s eyes were on his face. Guilt mixed with the anger. He was hiding something from her. She felt as if a dagger had been plunged into her heart.

  ‘Do you expect me to believe that?’ Sir Michael sneered. ‘I saw you together in the woods some weeks before she died. I witnessed the kiss. You did not throw her off immediately.’

  ‘I was gentle with her,’ Gerard admitted. ‘I may have been flattered for she declared she loved me. I swear that I did nothing to encourage her. She meant nothingtome.’His gaze moved to Amelia.He frowned as he saw she was pale, her eyes dark with horror. ‘You can not believe his lies? You must believe me, Amelia. I was not Lucinda’s lover—nor did I kill her.’

  ‘If you tell me it was not so, I believe you.’ Amelia’s gaze went from him to her brother. She felt bewildered and she was hurting, trying not to believe that Gerard had lied to her. She had sensed there was something he was hiding when he had hinted that Lucinda was not as innocent as Amelia believed. Had he lain with her? No, no, she could not believe such ill of him. It would destroy her. ‘You are wrong, Michael…you must be.’

  ‘Why must he be wrong?’

  Amelia spun round as she heard Marguerite’s voice. She was standing in the doorway, her eyes wild, full of bitterness, her mouth curling in a snarl of hatred as she stared at Gerard.

  ‘Lucinda told me. She boasted of it to me. Everyone thinks that she took her secret to the grave with her—but that is not true. She told me that Gerard Ravenshead was the father of her child and that she would marry him. I warned her that he was not suitable. Father would not have agreed for he hoped then that we should both make advantageous matches. It was only after her sha me was known that he told us we would never be allowed to marry.’