She looked up at him questioningly. ‘You seem very certain that there will be a next time, Mr Latimer.’
‘But, of course,’ he assured her, a sudden smile lighting up his face. ‘You have promised to allow me to show you the highly exalted grounds! Surely you cannot wish to forfeit such a glorious experience!’
Georgina at once relaxed and her eyes filled with amusement as she returned his smile. ‘I would not miss it for the world, Mr Latimer,’ she answered sweetly.
After their departure Latimer sat down to enjoy his solitary repast. The afternoon had not gone quite as well as he would have wished, he mused, but the time he had spent almost alone with Georgina had been sufficient for him to have formed the opinion that, in spite of what Radley had said about her possible interest in the local curate, she did not seem to be entirely averse to his own attentions. It was a pity that he had been forestalled in his attempt to broach the delicate subject of his masquerade although, in the circumstances, it could easily have proved to be his downfall. He must wait for a better opportunity to present itself and, he reminded himself sternly, a little less of his far too well-practised flirtatiousness would probably do no harm.
He reluctantly turned his attention to the other scheme he had come up with; one that he judged might go some way to solving the Cunningham family’s financial problems and, hopefully, also do away with a few of the difficulties that were likely to arise when his true identity became known.
Chapter Five
Saturday dawned bright and fair without a cloud in a clear blue sky and by mid-morning Radley’s two-horse landau was bowling along the lane towards the Dunchurch pike, each of its four occupants determined to make the most of whatever opportunities lay ahead.
As befitted the occasion, both girls were charmingly attired in their best sprigged muslin gowns but, of necessity, still wore the black lace gloves and ribbons that indicated their state of mourning.
Katharine and Radley, sharing the seat behind the driver’s box, were simply happy to spend time in one another’s company and, as usual, fell to discussing their delayed nuptials and future intentions. Georgina, seated opposite, next to the now fully booted Latimer, was still attempting to work out how she might accomplish her undertaking but, with his totally unexpected remark of the previous day still fresh in her mind, she found her thoughts continually distracted by his vibrant nearness. Covertly, under the pretext of straightening the frills of her parasol, she studied him as he lounged against the squabs of the carriage, his long muscular legs crossed elegantly in front of him. He seemed to have been endowed with every possible male virtue, she thought, wonderingly. Such a splendidly athletic physique and so handsome, too, with his crisp, fair hair becomingly cut in what she took to be the prevailing military fashion. Even his clothes, although rather shabby, seemed to fit as though they had been made for him, his jacket in particular spanning his broad shoulders without so much as a wrinkle. An ex-soldier, obviously from a good family, now down on his luck, she reasoned, and her heart went out to him as she remembered what had befallen her own dear brother. No wonder he made such efforts to avoid mention of his past—he would have seen so many dreadful things and was clearly trying to put them all behind him as he attempted to make his way in the world. She determined there and then to forbear from any more curious probing into his history and, with this thought uppermost in her mind, she turned her head towards the object of her reverie and bestowed upon him such an enchanting smile that he found himself momentarily transfixed.
He had been quietly aware of her veiled scrutiny and wondered ruefully if he had passed muster. He realised that he was going to have to continue to deceive her without actually being deceitful and how the devil was he to manage that? Having spent an uncomfortable night trying to thrash out the pros and cons of carrying on with what now seemed to be an utterly harebrained idea, he had eventually come to the conclusion that unless a suitable opportunity arose for him to admit his pathetic charade he would have to remain committed to it and hope for the best. In the meantime, he thought wryly, I shall just have to accept whatever gifts the gods choose to offer.
‘You are looking very serious this morning.’ Georgina’s concerned voice interrupted his musings. ‘Did it pain you to get into your boot?’
‘Not at all,’ he replied, his natural optimism returning. ‘It affords quite a good support, actually. Am I allowed to say how very lovely you look today?’
She looked at him in astonishment. ‘But, of course! Why should you think you may not?’
‘I would hate to be accused of flummery or some other unforgivable crime,’ he said, grinning wickedly. ‘You might think I am trying to flirt with you and I have given you my promise that I will not.’
Her cheeks grew pink and her eyes gleamed with amusement. ‘That in itself has the very essence of a most accomplished piece of flirting, but it is such a beautiful day that I am inclined to ignore it.’
‘You shall choose the topic, then,’ he proposed cheerfully. ‘What shall it be? The weather, perhaps? That is usually the safest subject.’
‘And one that was fully exhausted within five minutes of your arrival this morning,’ countered Georgina, dimpling. ‘Tell me about your packages,’ she said, indicating the small canvas bag on the floor of the carriage. ‘Are you sending off some of your commissions? I am so glad that your injury has not caused you any setback.’
‘They are commissions,’ answered Latimer, quite truthfully. ‘I aim to get them on to the night-mail if possible and there are one or two other matters I need to attend to in the town.’ He paused, eyeing her quizzically. ‘Are you expecting to spend much of the day in the milliners?’
‘Not if I can possibly avoid it,’ replied Georgina, with a horrified expression on her face. ‘I, too, have some rather urgent business I need to attend to.’ She hesitated for a moment, glancing quickly across at the pair on the opposite seat, who were now preoccupied with the perusal of some sort of household furnishing catalogue that Radley had brought with him.
‘You will think it rather strange of me,’ she said, leaning towards him and lowering her voice. ‘But I was wondering if I could crave your assistance in a somewhat delicate matter.’
‘Ask away—glad to be of service.’ He was intrigued by the subterfuge although it was no more than he had supposed. There was clearly more to this trip than a simple visit to a hat shop.
‘If you could indicate a desire to see the church, perhaps?’ she suggested lightly, but he had not failed to register the nervous tremor in her voice and his heart sank as he immediately inferred that she was planning some sort of secret assignation as, once again, he recalled Radley’s words about her burgeoning friendship with John Mansell.
‘As a matter of fact, I would love to look over the church,’ he forced himself to reply. ‘And, since you have promised me that I am to have the pleasure of escorting you around the Blanchard estate at some future date, perhaps, on this occasion, you would consent to be my guide?’
‘I would be glad to,’ she returned as, with a sigh of relief, she leaned back in her seat, wondering at the same time why she had chosen to put so much trust in this man, who was still almost a stranger. And yet she could trust him, she felt almost certain and, once again, she turned her head and gave him such a smile that his heart felt as if it might rend in two.
His jaw tightened and, reluctantly tearing his eyes away from her, he made a play of straightening his neckerchief. Perhaps this other scheme he had hit upon would prove to be a waste of time and money, he thought savagely. If it were true that she was involved with someone else, as he suspected, why should he care what became of her family? But he did care, dammit. Somehow the whole lot of them had managed to invade his affections and, however his own affairs turned out, he was still keen to help them if he possibly could.
For the remainder of the short journey any further conversation between Georgina and Latimer was restricted to pleasant observations about the rural scene
ry and, shortly before noon, the party arrived at the Green Man, a small and select public house which, not being a posting-inn, tended not to attract the more rowdy elements of the townsfolk.
Radley, having sent one of his lads out earlier that morning, had bespoken a private parlour for their meal that, in the event, turned out to be a most sumptuous banquet. Five delectable courses, and vintage champagne to accompany them—as like a wedding breakfast as it could possibly be, declared Katharine at its eventual conclusion, her eyes then brimming with tears, which immediately caused her betrothed to jump to his feet in consternation, insisting that they repair at once to the milliner’s, where she would be sure to find something to restore her to her former good humour.
As they left the inn, which happened to be situated directly opposite the church, Latimer remembered his promise to Georgina and, turning to his host, he asked if he could borrow Miss Cunningham for a while.
‘For I would like to make some sketches of the church while I have the chance and Miss Cunningham has kindly offered to point out some of the better features.’
He then smiled disarmingly at Katharine. ‘If you could manage to choose your bonnet without your sister’s assistance, I would be most grateful.’
Feeling the slight pressure of Georgina’s hand against her back, Katharine replied that she was more than happy to accede to his request.
‘She will only direct me to the plainest of bonnets, anyway,’ she chuckled, as she led her fiancé away, in excellent spirits once more at the thought of the pleasures to come.
Once inside the church, Georgina was full of thanks for Latimer’s quick thinking, adding nervously, ‘You will think it very odd of me, I know, but there is something that I simply have to do. Could I ask you to remain here for perhaps half an hour or so until I return? Katharine and Radley will be fully occupied for that length of time, I’m certain, and I promise you that I will endeavour to complete my—my business as quickly as possible.’
With a tiny frown, Latimer looked down at her, registering her obvious anxiety and painfully aware that she was avoiding his eyes. He hoped that he was not being instrumental in allowing her to commit some unforgivably foolish act, such as meeting her lover in secret, the only conclusion he could possibly draw from her most evasive manner.
‘Well, as I told you, I do have some small matters of my own to attend to,’ he replied, somewhat abruptly. ‘But you have my word that I shall return at the appointed hour.’ He hesitated for a moment, and then continued, his voice now more gentle. ‘If you are in some sort of difficulty, you must know that I will gladly help in any way I can.’
For the briefest instant Georgina was tempted to open her heart to him but, suddenly remembering her own words to her sister regarding the sacrosanctity of family matters, she shook her head and, with a tiny smile, she turned away from him and made for the door.
‘I shall be back as soon as I can,’ she called softly over her shoulder and was gone before he could reply.
In the dim silence of the church Latimer stood, thoughtfully chewing his lip for a moment or two. Then, straightening his shoulders, he followed swiftly in her footsteps and was just in time to catch a glimpse of her slender figure dodging nimbly through the throng of people on the sidewalk and hurrying away from the town centre.
He turned despondently towards the market square, his first port of call being the mailing office, where he deposited a packet and several letters, enquiring as he did so the whereabouts of the offices of one Marcus Pickens, solicitor.
Being careful to avoid passing in front of the window of the millinery store, he made his way through the crowds of shoppers in the market square and up a narrow side street, where he quickly found the gentleman’s chambers situated above a pharmacy. Mounting the stairs, he found himself in a small outer office where he requested an immediate interview with the solicitor.
Pickens’s clerk, having observed the shabby demeanour of his visitor was, at first, reluctant to disturb his master but, on perusal of the card that Latimer presented to him, he sprang instantly to his feet and speedily made his way down the passage to Mr Pickens’s office.
It was no surprise to Latimer that both the elderly lawyer and his clerk returned to the outer office with almost indecent haste. He gave a faint smile and held out his hand.
‘I would appreciate it if you would address me as Mr Latimer, for the purposes of this visit,’ he said coolly. ‘I have my reasons for wishing to remain anonymous.’
Pickens executed a deep bow as he took his hand. ‘Certainly, sir,’ he assured his visitor. ‘Whatever you require, of course, sir. Please take a seat. How may I be of assistance to you?’
‘I understand that you are dealing with the matter of Reverend Henry Cunningham’s estate?’
Pickens gave a reluctant nod. ‘That is true, sir but I am afraid that such matters are confidential. I cannot possibly divulge any of the information to you, even though you are—’
‘Quite, quite,’ interrupted Latimer. ‘However, I hear that there is a considerable number of books for sale. I merely want you to arrange for the purchase of the entire collection. Do you think that you could see to that with all speed?’
The lawyer hesitated. ‘I believe there are some rather valuable specimens in the collection,’ he faltered. ‘I have not yet had it valued.’
Latimer gestured impatiently and named his price. The old man’s eyes widened and he felt it necessary to steady himself against his desk.
‘I am sure that will be most acceptable, your—sir,’ he eventually managed.
‘Good. You will have my draft by Tuesday at the latest,’ said Latimer, with an encouraging smile. ‘My agent will be along within a few days to finalise the details and arrange for the removal. Thank you for your prompt attention. I am satisfied that you are a man of honour and will, therefore, hardly need to be reminded that this matter is to be treated with the utmost confidence. I rely entirely upon your discretion.’
Whereupon he stood up and made ready to leave, holding out his hand as he did so.
Mr Pickens, frantically nodding his head at each of Latimer’s remarks, recovered his manners in time to rise from his chair in order to receive Latimer’s hearty handshake and, his head still reeling from this unexpected turn of events, just managed to find sufficient strength of mind to remember to bow his visitor out of the room.
Back in the market place Latimer drew out his pocket watch and flicked it open to take note of the time. Sighing, he made his way slowly back to the church, feeling that the few minutes remaining until Georgina’s promised return might prove to be the longest, most miserable and frustrating minutes of his life.
Georgina tentatively pushed open the wrought-iron gate and stared up at the imposing redbrick town house with an immediate flash of recognition. She was instantly beset by a number of not too pleasant memories of childhood visits and found herself filled with horribly conflicting emotions. She stood, undecided, for several minutes before finally making up her mind to walk the few steps to the large front door, where she nervously tugged at the bell-pull.
The door swung open to reveal a stooping and very elderly butler, clad in an expensive plum-coloured livery. His face wore an expression of doleful weariness as he asked her to state her business.
‘I am Miss Georgina Cunningham,’ announced Georgina in as haughty a manner as she could muster. She held herself stiffly erect although she could swear that her knees were trembling. ‘I am Sir Arthur’s niece.’
The old man studied her in suspicious silence for a few moments, then his face cleared and his eyes lit up. ‘It’s never Mister Henry’s lass?’
At this Georgina allowed herself to relax a little and, nodding her head, beamed a smile at him. ‘Is Sir Arthur at home? I would like to speak with him, if I may?’
Whereupon the butler put out his hand and gripped her by the wrist and, to her amazement, proceeded to draw her quickly into the large hallway before carefully closing the door behin
d him. Putting his finger to his lips, he cast several nervous glances about him before motioning her into a small salon to his right.
‘Stay here and don’t move,’ he instructed her in a low voice. ‘I will inform Sir Arthur immediately.’ He then bowed and shuffled quickly from the room.
Slightly alarmed at the butler’s oddly conspiratorial manner, Georgina hurried to the window and was relieved to see that it looked out on to the nearby busy street where there were passers-by a-plenty as well as a number of carriages rattling to and fro. At least she was not far from assistance should anything prove to be amiss, she thought, and then scolded herself for thinking such nonsense. What could possibly be amiss about a simple visit to a relative?
She turned with a start as she heard the sound of the doorknob turning. A tall, white-haired man, whom she had no difficulty in recognising as her father’s older brother, entered. After carefully shutting the door behind him, he stood at the doorway with a deep frown on his face, silently studying his visitor. Forcing herself to remain perfectly still, Georgina waited in anxious trepidation until, all of a sudden, Sir Arthur stretched out his hands and hurriedly crossed the room, his voice trembling with emotion as he said, ‘It really is you, isn’t it, Georgina? My dear, I am overwhelmed.’
She reached out to clasp his hands, but found herself enveloped in a bear hug, which left her at once breathless and laughing, as her bonnet tipped sideways over her ears.
‘Sit down, my dear, sit down.’ Sir Arthur led her to a sofa and, still clasping her hand, sat himself down beside her, smiling widely as she endeavoured to straighten her headwear. ‘I can’t tell you what this means to me, my dear child. I had given up all hopes of any sort of reconciliation—my poor brother was so adamant—not that I blamed him, of course,’ he added hastily. ‘But your dear mama took such pains to avoid me at the funeral that it seemed clear she intended to honour Henry’s wishes to the letter.’ He eyed Georgina anxiously; his faded blue eyes suddenly glistening with unshed tears. ‘Am I to take it that I—we—are forgiven?’
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