Adam laughed. ‘I would rather not offend Lady Cardew if I can help it for she is a fearsome old battleaxe. But you have not told me what Mr Ingram’s hold is over you, Lady Wycherley. What could you possibly have done to give him the means to blackmail you?’
Annis’s laughter faded. ‘It is nothing as desperate as that, I assure you, my lord, just some nasty threats—’
‘About what?’
Annis sighed. ‘I have explained to you before that a chaperon’s reputation is a vulnerable thing, my lord. Mr Ingram has also noticed that fact.’
‘He seeks to threaten you with gossip?’ Adam said slowly. ‘About what?’
‘About you, my lord,’ Annis said candidly. She saw him frown and added hastily, ‘Oh, have no fear—if it were not that I am sure that he would find something else. You said yourself that the man is adept at finding a lever.’
‘The man crawls in the gutter,’ Adam said, and there was such anger in his tone that Annis was taken aback.
‘Please…I am sorry that I mentioned it to you.’
‘I am not.’ Adam gave her a very straight look. ‘I was not aware, however, that there had been any conjecture about us.’
Annis remembered what Mrs Hardcastle had said and hastily disregarded it. ‘I am persuaded that there has not. It is all manufactured.’
Adam was frowning. ‘What if that was not the case, Lady Wycherley?’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘What if the gossip was true and I was paying court to you? You know that from the first my sole interest has been in you. We could make the gossip true and then there would be no scandal.’
Annis stared at him. She had been grappling with the difficulties of Ingram’s blackmail and this latest idea took her quite by surprise.
‘I…but…’ Annis pulled herself together. ‘We have spoken of this, my lord. You know that I would have to discourage your attentions. It is clearly impossible.’
‘How so?’ Adam closed the gap between them.
Annis’s gaze fell. ‘Because…Because I…I have already explained to you that my situation as a chaperon does not allow it.’
‘That situation will end when the Misses Crossley leave, will it not?’
‘For the time being. But it is my profession. I am to go to London for the Little Season. It is all arranged.’ Annis gestured distractedly with her hands. Adam caught them both in his.
‘So that is your first objection. What else?’
Annis had the desperate feeling that she was fighting a losing battle. ‘There are many. I prefer to be independent.’
‘I could change your mind.’
Annis frowned. For the first time, a tiny corner of her mind whispered that he might be right. ‘That is very arrogant, my lord.’
‘Very well. We shall see. What else?’
‘There is your mistress. I saw you with her earlier.’
Adam laughed. ‘I collect that you mean Miss Mardyn?’
‘Who else?’ Annis looked at him severely. ‘Unless you have more than one mistress in keeping?’
‘I have none, I assure you. I have no interest in Miss Mardyn. Whoever you saw with her, it was not I.’
‘Well, never mind.’ Annis had belatedly realised that she might sound jealous. It was true, of course, but she did not wish Adam to know that. Nor did she wish to give credence to the idea that she was actually considering his suggestion seriously. She freed her hands.
‘This is ridiculous. You cannot wish to pay court to me. Such things simply do not happen to me.’
Adam smiled. ‘I hesitate to contradict a lady, but it just has done. Do you truly find it so surprising that I might wish to pay my addresses to you?’
Annis frowned. ‘I suppose I must believe you, but…’ Her troubled gaze searched his face and she burst out, ‘This is foolish, my lord. We have only recently met—’
‘That is true. It does not mean that we need to remain strangers, however.’ Adam smiled. ‘I thought that you liked me a little.’
Annis sighed. ‘You know that I am attracted to you, my lord.’
She saw the flash of all-male satisfaction in his eyes. ‘Then give me a chance.’
Annis hesitated. The pull was very strong. But so was the pull of memory and she knew that marriage was not for her. She would never forget that stifling feeling of being trapped. She shook her head. ‘I am sorry, my lord. I cannot do that. I must bid you good day.’
As she walked off she knew that he was still watching her and as she turned the corner she could not resist a look over her shoulder. Sure enough, he was standing where she had left him and there was a rueful smile still on his lips. When he saw her turn to look at him he inclined his head, very deliberately, as though reminding her that she might have held her resolve this time, but that he was determined too, and he knew she was weakening.
Chapter Eight
Sir Robert Crossley came to collect his nieces the following afternoon. There were many false professions of affection from Fanny, some genuine ones from Lucy and sincere gratitude and a fat purse of money from Sir Robert himself. After the carriage had drawn away, Annis went back into the drawing room, kicked off her satin pumps, plumped herself down on the sofa, and tossed her turban in the air.
Sibella called at three o’clock and she had a treat for Annis up her sleeve.
‘I have had such a good idea,’ she began, as they descended from her carriage outside the Crown Hotel. ‘I thought that you deserved a reward, Annis, for refraining from strangling that odious Miss Crossley, so I have arranged for us to bathe. Far better to take a hot spa bath than to drink the waters! Mr Thackwray is very busy this afternoon, but he has squeezed us in.’
‘Oh good,’ Annis said glumly. It was kind of Sibella to have thought to offer her a treat, but it was many years since Annis had taken the bath cure and she knew there must be a reason for that. Probably it was because the water was disgustingly malodorous. She could smell it already as they followed Mr Thackwray up the Crown’s imposing mahogany staircase. The place was thronging with guests.
‘I forget how popular Harrogate has become in the high summer,’ Sibella commented. ‘Why, it seems more crowded every year!’
Mr Thackwray beamed. ‘The sulphur cure is remarkably efficacious, ladies, and, if I may say so, Harrogate has a certain quality that is lacking in other spa towns. Some of the southern spas have become decidedly déclassé, I fear…’
‘At least the Bath Spa has a Pump Room,’ Sibella whispered to Annis when their host’s broad back was turned. ‘Here we have to make do with a well with a canopy over! I heard one London lady say that she expected no better from the North, although she supposed that the lack of refinement added to Harrogate’s rustic charm!’
Annis laughed. ‘Surely the town is rich enough these days to build a Pump Room? Although it would not surprise me if Mr Thackwray opposed any such development. Why, he must make a fortune by offering medicinal baths here in his hotel!’
Sibella, who swore by the sulphur cure, frowned. ‘You must own that rheumaticky patients are far more comfortable here than having to dip themselves in the sulphur well, Annis! I think Mr Thackwray offers a fine service.’
Mr Thackwray’s suite of rooms was indeed comprehensive. Stretching along the whole of the first floor of the hotel were a series of small bedchambers with bathrooms in between, all interconnected to offer the opportunity for guests and visitors alike to sample the pleasures of the spa bath. The hotelier now stood aside to usher them into a small room in which two wooden baths stood side by side. The air was thick with steam and the smell of rotten eggs. An aproned attendant was emptying a copper pan into one of the baths and smilingly offered to help them off with their outdoor clothes. Mr Thackwray, bowing, beat a discreet retreat.
‘Ugh!’ Annis said, hanging back as her cousin went behind a screen and divested herself of her clothing, ‘why, it smells to high heaven in here and looks hot enough to broil a lobster! Why do you do this to your
self, Sib?’
Sibella discarded her dressing robe and slipped into the water. She lay back, closed her eyes and smiled beatifically at her cousin.
‘It is splendidly enjoyable, Annis, once you get used to it. I can only have the waters warm at the moment because of my condition, but I find it very soothing. What is more, it is a sovereign cure for all sorts of maladies from the rheumaticks to the smallpox. It helps to cure the lesions, you know.’
Annis stared hard into the water. The thought of what might be lurking in there was deeply unappealing. ‘You do not have the lesions, Sib. They do change the water for each customer, do they not?’
‘Of course!’ Sibella turned her head and opened her eyes. Her short blonde hair was already sticking up in damp spikes. ‘Now be a good girl and get in. You will soon see how thoroughly pleasant the experience can be!’
The attendant helped Annis to unbutton her dress, then left the two ladies to bathe, informing them that she would be back in an hour’s time to help them dress. Annis dipped one toe in the water and grimaced.
‘Ouch! That is very hot!’
‘That,’ Sibella said patiently, ‘is the point, Annis.’
‘It is all very well for you, sitting there is a warm tub! I am broiling here!’
Annis lowered herself gingerly into the bath. The sides were steep and the tub bore an unfortunate resemblance to a coffin. The water came up to her chin and it was extremely hot. The smell of sulphur rose from it like a cloud. Annis wrinkled up her nose and tried not to sneeze. The idea of a coffin seemed most apt—if the scalding water did not cause a heart attack and carry you off, the smell surely would. That was if the rheumaticks had not got you first, of course.
‘Ugh!’ Annis tried not to inhale. ‘I have seldom felt the need to take the waters before. Now I know why!’
‘You must breathe, Annis,’ Sibella said, turning her head in her cousin’s direction. ‘Otherwise you will not have the benefit of the efficacious vapours. They are renowned for clearing the head.’
‘That I can well believe.’ Annis found the smell of sulphur was so intense that it felt as though it was splitting her skull in two. Not for nothing was Harrogate’s spa also known as the ‘Stinking Spaw’. Visitors might travel from miles around to take the waters and townsfolk like Sibella might claim it to be healthful, but Annis suspected that it was all some huge jest at their expense. No doubt Mr Thackwray was even now rubbing his hands at the thought of the gullible parting with their money for the fashionable cure.
‘It is very good of you to introduce me to the pleasures of the spa,’ she said, ‘but a little shopping would have sufficed!’
‘We can do that as well,’ Sibella said sleepily. ‘Oh, Annis, it is good to have some time with you. You seldom have the chance to chat when you are chaperoning those wretched girls and I know you are off to Starbeck in a few days. For all that it is only four-and-twenty miles away, it sometimes feels like hundreds!’
‘On those roads it certainly does,’ Annis said feelingly. Travellers on the Skipton and Starbeck roads often had the bruises to prove it for days afterwards. Starbeck was set high on the Yorkshire moors and many of the roads were poor and badly kept. Annis thought it unlikely that Ingram’s tollbooths would improve matters. Doubtless the money would go directly into his pockets.
She sighed and lay back in the water, following Sibella’s lead and closing her eyes. Now that she was becoming more accustomed to it, the spa water was actually very relaxing. She was starting to feel sleepy and content, a world away from Ingram and his veiled threats and the problems at Starbeck and the provocative dilemma of Adam Ashwick. She really should not have entertained his proposals of courtship for a second, but he was strangely difficult to resist—and devilishly attractive…
Sibella yawned. ‘Are you glad to be rid of your charges, Annis?’
‘Oh, prodigiously! Though Sir Robert Crossley paid well, it was nowhere near enough to compensate for the wilfulness of his odious niece! If Fanny Crossley does not run away before the wedding, I shall be most surprised!’
‘The other girl was a sweet child,’ Sibella said, ‘and perhaps Miss Crossley was unhappy, Annis. Unhappiness can make people very bad-tempered. I remember Mama was a martyr to the gout and it made her very cross indeed.’
‘You always look for the best in everyone, Sib,’ Annis said affectionately. ‘I do believe you might even excuse Mr Ingram if you tried!’
‘That reminds me—I saw Charles at luncheon,’ Sibella said. Her tone had changed and Annis knew her well enough to guess what was coming. ‘He told me that you and he are at daggers’ drawn. Oh, Annis, I do so hate it when you are at odds!’
Annis hated it as well. She was fiercely fond of her cousins, particularly as they had made her welcome when her husband had died and she had returned home to Yorkshire. The Lafoys had held land in the Yorkshire Dales for centuries, but their estate had dwindled to nothing in the previous generation. Charles and Sibella’s father had been the spendthrift squire who had lost their small patrimony, necessitating Charles to learn a profession and Sibella to marry. Annis’s father was the younger son, a sea captain who had bought the small estate of Starbeck for when he retired from his travels—except that he had died before this had happened. Annis, the only child, had vague memories of flying visits to Starbeck during his time ashore, but the rest of the time was a blur of lodgings in Southampton and Plymouth, school in Bath, a passage to India and the final brief, blazing summer in Bermuda. Annis’s mother had died there, shortly after her father had been lost at sea.
‘I am sorry, Sib,’ Annis said sincerely. ‘I know that you feel it keenly when Charles and I quarrel and I hate it too. I know that he has a living to make, but I cannot stomach him working for Samuel Ingram. The man is nothing more than a ruthless bully!’
Sibella’s pretty face crinkled up with distress. Annis seldom criticised Charles to his sister for she knew it was not fair. In Harrogate Sibella was protected from the rumbling discontent that dominated village life and so was unaware that the name of Ingram was fast becoming a curse in the hamlets that surrounded Starbeck.
‘I am sure Mr Ingram cannot be all bad,’ Sibella said unhappily. ‘I hear dreadful things about him, but surely they are exaggerated. I know that he wishes to buy Starbeck, Annis, but he is offering a good price—’
‘Oh, let us not speak of that!’ Annis said hastily. ‘It will only put me out of humour and I did so want to enjoy this afternoon. I deserve it!’
Sibella was still frowning. ‘Yes, but speaking of Mr Ingram, Charles told me at luncheon that there has been more trouble at Linforth. Apparently there was a riot in the village last night, and one of Mr Ingram’s barns was looted and burned. Charles was very angry, but I always think that the villagers must be so poor they cannot help themselves.’
Annis sighed ruefully. ‘Dearest Sib, you know as well as I that rioting is a capital offence and cannot be condoned.’
‘I know.’ Sibella sighed. ‘But when one is so poor, Annis…’
‘Yes,’ Annis said. ‘I know. I believe it must be intensely difficult. And it is not as though they do not have provocation. I heard that Ingram evicted some of the villagers last week because he wanted a higher rent for their cottages. They had nowhere else to go and one woman went into labour prematurely and lost her baby as a result…’ Annis winced. ‘No, I cannot blame anyone who rebels against him.’
‘Charles also said that he thought some of the local gentry might be stirring up trouble,’ Sibella said. ‘Apparently the leader of the rioters spoke like a gentleman and rode a bay horse. Ingram has offered a reward for information.’ She turned her head to look at Annis. ‘Who do you think it could be, Annis? Is it not intriguing?’
‘Fascinating,’ Annis said. She was disconcerted to find herself remembering that Adam Ashwick had a bay horse in his stables. ‘There are not many men who fit the bill.’
‘No.’ Sibella looked thoughtful. ‘There is Sir Everard Dobl
e—’
‘A ridiculous idea!’ Annis laughed. ‘As well suspect a tailor’s dummy!’
‘Well, then, how about Tom Shepard?’
‘Perhaps…’ Annis frowned. There had been a bay stallion in the stable at Starbeck as well. ‘There is Mr Benson…’
‘But he works for Ingram!’
‘So does Charles, so I suppose they are both out of the running.’ Annis sighed. ‘I always believe that it is the most unlikely candidate in these cases.’
‘Lord Ashwick?’
‘Close. I suspect his brother. You mark my words, Sib, the Honourable Mr Edward Ashwick will prove the culprit!’
Sibella gave a gurgle of laughter. ‘Oh, Annis, you are dreadful, blaming the rector! He is such a nice man as well.’
‘So? I do not see why that disqualifies him. Indeed, I admire anyone who has the audacity to stand up to Ingram, capital offence or no!’
‘Oh, well…’ Sibella smiled ‘…we shall see, for I am afraid he is bound to be caught. Why, someone will turn him in for a reward of one hundred pounds.’
‘Do not be so sure,’ Annis said. She was remembering the scene at the tollhouse. ‘Whoever is leading the rebels, the villagers will see him as one of their own. They will not turn coat, Sib.’
‘Oh, well,’ Sibella said again, ‘let us speak of something more cheerful, Annis. Let us talk about you! Why do you not marry again and settle down?’
Annis laughed. ‘You never give up trying, do you, Sib!’
‘I should think not. I am very happy…’ Sibella smiled blissfully ‘…and I think that you could be too!’
Annis shook her head. ‘I cannot imagine it,’ she said. ‘You were fortunate in your choice, Sib, but I could not consent to remarry simply to secure my future. That was how I made such a disastrous mistake in the first place! No, give me my independence any day.’
Annis could see that Sibella was looking distressed again, as she did when anything did not quite fit with her own, ordered view of life. Sibella would no more wish to be independent than she would walk naked down Park Street, and she was not comfortable with those whose way of life was less conventional than her own. Annis reflected that her cousin had been lucky. Though she had been penniless, her beauty and sweet nature had attracted a gentleman of modest means who truly loved her.
The Chaperon Bride (Harlequin Historical) Page 16
