by Stella Riley
What a wonderful, comforting notion, he thought. How lovely to believe it even for a minute. But he couldn’t. He knew perfectly well what motivated Philippa.
Having tried to read his expression but found it inscrutable, Elizabeth said, ‘I suppose you think I’m being fanciful?’
‘No. I think you are crediting Lady Sutherland with what your own feelings might have been in similar circumstances. I do not, of course, imagine that you believe the death of Edgar Wilkes might not have been deliberate.’
‘What I believe doesn’t matter, does it?’
‘Perhaps. Perhaps not.’ He fell silent for a moment, trying not to ask a question to which he might not like the answer. Finally, however, he said, ‘Just out of interest … would you accept my word if I gave it?’
Elizabeth surveyed him gravely and said slowly, ‘Yes. Since I’ve a feeling you don’t give it lightly, I would.’
This time, the pause was a long one. Ralph tried to remember the last time anyone had been prepared to trust anything about him. Then he reflected on the fact that, if he was considering courting Arabella Brandon, he was going to have to tell her at least part of the truth and hope to be believed. He did not relish the idea. But since one had to start somewhere, he said slowly, ‘Well, then. I fought Edgar at his own insistence and with no intention of killing him.’
‘Thank you.’ She hesitated and then said, ‘I wouldn’t have asked, you know.’
‘No. I am beginning to realise that.’ Needing to change the subject, he said, ‘Are you enjoying your first taste of London society?’
‘Yes. I was nervous at first but most people have been kind. Of course, I know there is some talk and I’ve caught a few speculative glances. But no-one has said anything within my hearing – which, in one way, is a pity.’
Ralph’s brows rose. ‘Is it?’
‘Yes. One can’t correct stupid, malicious gossip unless one hears it said.’
‘Forgive my asking … but would you correct it?’
‘Yes,’ she said firmly, thinking, I have to protect Belle’s name as best I can. ‘Since I object to us both being unfairly slandered, I wouldn’t mind the opportunity to say so.’
‘Not that I don’t appreciate the thought,’ he remarked, hiding his inevitable surprise, ‘but confrontation doesn’t necessarily make the stupid, malicious gossipers back down.’
‘I know that. Tongues wag just as much at home as they do here. The only difference is that it is more likely about whether the fishmonger is overcharging or Mr Smith has taken to drink.’
‘Or whether Jack, having been caught kissing Jill, will do the honourable thing?’
‘Probably. But that doesn’t apply to you and me. No one saw us doing anything improper because there was nothing improper to see.’
Ralph sighed. ‘That is beside the point. Surely Rockliffe has made it plain that, as far as the polite world is concerned, opportunity is sufficient?’
‘Yes. But --’
‘And I presume he has also told you of our conversation on the subject.’
Elizabeth nodded, colouring a little.
‘That was … good of you. And I appreciate it. But there will be no need for either of us to – to make such an irrevocable sacrifice.’
‘I would suggest that you speak for yourself,’ murmured Ralph, ‘except that I suspect that is exactly what you were doing.’ Forced to slow the carriage due to the dawdling progress of two horsemen ahead of them, he used the time to study her face. ‘I will probably regret asking … but is the idea of marriage with me completely repellent?’
‘No!’ said Elizabeth, aghast. ‘That isn’t it at all – truly it’s not! It is merely that I can’t … I don’t wish to marry anyone just at present.’
Able to drive on, he thought, If that is not true, she has just made it impossible to accept another offer. But she started to say she cannot marry … and why would that be? He said, ‘I am duly reassured. Is there some reason for your reluctance to wed?’
Elizabeth could feel the pit of deception opening beneath her. For a fleeting instant, she wondered if she dared tell him the truth … but immediately knew she couldn’t. The knowledge hurt more than she expected and made her realise that, although she didn’t want Lord Sherbourne to marry her because he felt compelled to do so, she would have been far from reluctant to consider it if he was doing so freely. As things stood, however, it didn’t matter a jot why he asked – since he thought she was someone she wasn’t.
Falling back on Arabella’s own excuse, she said baldly, ‘I was betrothed for three years. But the gentleman in question married someone else.’
‘Ah.’ He frowned slightly. ‘You must forgive me. I am sure you would have preferred not to tell me that.’
‘Yes. But I couldn’t have you thinking what you thought.’ She summoned a smile. ‘As for my former betrothed, at least he had the tact to jilt me from Massachusetts, rather than the neighbouring estate.’
‘Did that make it easier?’
‘Not really.’ Elizabeth looked at him curiously. ‘Am I allowed a question?’
‘Ask it and we’ll see.’
‘Do you wish to marry? Not me specifically – but at all?’
‘Aside from the choice of bride, my wishes have little to do with it,’ he replied dryly. ‘It is my duty to secure the earldom … and that requires an heir. So, yes. I must marry – and relatively soon.’ He slanted an odd smile at her and added, ‘You may wish to consider that.’
* * *
The following morning, Arabella’s brief letter containing the news that Max had somehow worked out their deception turned Elizabeth’s insides to jelly. It was all very well for Belle to say she thought she had persuaded him to keep the secret … but what if she hadn’t? What if, right now, Max was sharing what he knew with Mama and Aunt Louisa? If he was, the axe could fall at any moment. And what price then this possibility of something between herself and Ralph Sherbourne? Even though she knew it could never amount to anything, she couldn’t help wanting to let it develop … wanting to know what, if anything, it was. If Papa found out what she had done, that wasn’t going to happen. She’d be summoned home immediately.
Had she but known it, darker and more dangerous clouds were looming upon her horizon. Lady Sutherland had returned to town and, according to Nell Caversham, had immediately started talking “faster than anyone can listen.”
‘I had hoped,’ sighed his Grace, ‘that Phineas Sutherland might have prevented this. Since he hasn’t, I had better have a word with him.’
‘Before you do, let me go straight to the horse’s mouth,’ said Adeline. And with a smile, ‘That way, we can save the really big guns until we’re sure we need them.’
‘Big guns?’ enquired Rockliffe. ‘How very flattering. Or is it?’
* * *
Adeline was admitted to the Sutherlands’ house in Dover Street and shown up to the drawing-room where her ladyship waited with an expression of nervous defiance.
‘Your Grace.’ She curtsied. ‘This is an unexpected pleasure.’
‘Let us not pretend that this is a social call,’ said Adeline crisply. ‘You must be as aware as I am that it is not.’
Philippa Sutherland’s colour rose. ‘I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.’
‘Yes, you do. You are busy smearing the reputation of the duke’s young cousin. It would be in your best interests to cease doing so.’
‘If that is a threat --’
‘It is a civil warning. If you continue with this, my husband will step in – and I am sure that is something you would rather avoid.’
Her ladyship looked back mutinously. ‘I am only saying what I saw.’
‘What you think you saw – and what you assumed was everything.’
‘Mistress Brandon was travelling unchaperoned with Sherbourne and --’
‘Due to an accident to her own carriage and lack of any alternative, Mistress Brandon completed one stage of her journey with Lord S
herbourne. And she was accompanied by both her maid and her aunt.’
Philippa managed a scornful laugh. ‘I saw no aunt – nor heard any mention of one.’
‘In a brief, chance meeting, why should you have done? Your mistake was in jumping to conclusions that suited your own purposes.’ Adeline held the other woman’s gaze with a very direct one of her own. ‘I have no axe to grind on Sherbourne’s behalf, Lady Sutherland. Whatever ill-will you bear him is entirely your own affair. But neither the duke nor I will permit you to continue involving Mistress Brandon in it.’
‘She was seen driving with him only yesterday,’ muttered Philippa.
‘Yes. And do you really suppose that if the slightest impropriety had occurred she would have been permitted to do so?’ Adeline paused to let this sink in. ‘If you are wise, you will begin admitting to your friends that you may have been under a misconception … that you were not in possession of all the facts … and that Mistress Brandon has been in no sense compromised. If that is beyond you, try remaining silent. But if you persist in spreading malicious gossip, do not be surprised if your standing in society begins to … diminish. As I am sure your husband will tell you, you will not enjoy the results of being openly cut by Rockliffe. Good day.’
* * *
Aware of Lady Sutherland’s arrival in town but not that the Duchess of Rockliffe had taken matters into her own hands, Lord Sherbourne set off for Dorset and his brother’s wedding. The brief missive he had received from the father of the bride had given the time, date and place of the ceremony – and also told him that the prospective groom had made two unsuccessful attempts to bolt. Ralph was not surprised by this. He did, however, wonder why closer acquaintance with Cedric had not caused either the bride or her father to call off the wedding – since, if Jenny Belcher was with child, no one had mentioned it.
Cedric, sporting a black eye and under the close escort of Jenny’s burly brothers, whined to Bertram all the way down the aisle and then cast piteous looks in Ralph’s direction. His mumbled vows and responses were only made at all due to the Belcher boys’ ungentle reminders. And when he and Jenny were pronounced man and wife, his expression was that of a condemned man with the rope already about his neck. A couple of people sniggered. Had the butt of the joke been anyone but his idiot brother, Ralph might also have enjoyed the funny side. As it was, it merely made his jaw ache.
And the day wasn’t over. Regardless of the circumstances, Mr Belcher and his wife were determined to celebrate the occasion with a gargantuan wedding breakfast, followed by dancing in the assembly rooms. Ralph endured it until he saw Bertram sitting down to a game of cards with a clutch of Belcher men, at which point his heart sank still further.
Bertram would start cheating. He always did. The men he was playing against would notice. They always did. Then there would be a fight. There always was. All this because Bertram never learned and nothing Ralph could do would change that.
He could control one thing, however. He didn’t have to watch.
With a final glance towards the place where, hemmed in by his new brothers-in-law, Cedric sat glowering into an ale pot while his pretty bride danced with one of her cousins, Ralph left the room and ran down the stairs to the stables. Tired, depressed and, if he was honest with himself, more than a little lonely, he rode the short distance to Gardington, contemplating seeking solace in a bottle.
He didn’t, of course. He sought it in the only things that never failed him.
Aristotle, Socrates and Heraclitus.
* * *
Although Elizabeth knew that Lord Sherbourne had left town, she was unaware of his reasons for doing so. She was equally unaware that, with his customary efficiency, Rockliffe’s man-of-law had arrived to report his findings about the Earl of Chalfont.
‘You have been uncommonly quick, Mr Osborne,’ remarked Rockliffe. ‘I am impressed.’
‘As to that, your Grace, it was not so very difficult. I have prepared a fully-detailed account of everything I have learned … possibly more than is pertinent.’
‘You may leave it with me. But for now, perhaps you might précis it?’
‘Certainly, your Grace.’ Mr Osborne cleared his throat. ‘Julian Langham, twenty-eight years old, only child and parents deceased. He spent two years at Cambridge but did not take his degree, departing instead for Vienna where he spent the next seven years studying music. Since that appears an inordinate length of time, I have sent an enquiry to a colleague in Vienna but will be waiting some weeks for a reply. At any rate, Vienna is where the late earl’s lawyers, Bartle, Bartle & Fellowes, finally found the gentleman. I am told he was living a somewhat unconventional existence; that he was reluctant to assume the title; but that, though his relationship to the fourth earl was tenuous in the extreme, no other heir could be found – thus making Mr Langham a last resort.’
‘You say ‘told’, Mr Osborne. By whom exactly?’
The lawyer smiled aridly. ‘By Mr Fellowes, your Grace. He and his partners were eager to shed their responsibility for the Chalfont earldom – and did so immediately Mr Langham was in place. The fourth earl was a gentleman of expensive tastes and dissolute habits. By the time of his death, the estate was barely functioning and close to bankrupt.’ He paused and, with more than a hint of disapproval, added, ‘Young Mr Langham was told none of that and therefore had no idea what he would be facing. According to Mr Fellowes, he was similarly unaware that the late earl’s three illegitimate children were running wild in the vicinity.’
‘Did you say three?’ asked Rockliffe faintly.
‘Yes, your Grace. Three.’
‘Dear me. The fourth earl was nothing if not … prolific … was he?’
‘So it would seem. During the current earl’s seven month tenure, he has been attempting to halt the downward slide with none of the necessary resources.’ Another, rather different, smile. ‘But this is where the gentleman becomes interesting, your Grace.’
‘He does?’
‘Indeed. I did not confine myself to the usual sort of enquiries. I also sent Hopkins, one of my young clerks, to the village closest to the Chalfont estate, to discover the reality of the situation. I had expected to learn that the new earl was … let us say, less than popular. In fact, the reverse is true. He has not attempted to solve his financial problems by raising rents and he has taken all three children into his own house. These two things alone were sufficient to create general approval. But during his sojourn in Beckingham, Hopkins witnessed something astonishing.’
The lawyer paused, as if for dramatic effect.
Rockliffe did not disappoint him. He said, ‘Do go on, Mr Osborne. I am agog.’
‘His lordship is apparently a harpsichordist of uncommon ability – an ability he regularly shares. He performs once a week from inside someone’s parlour with the windows open. According to Hopkins, virtually the entire village gathers outside to hear him. He plays reels and jigs and songs they all know. But he also plays Bach and Mozart … and complicated pieces by composers Hopkins did not recognise.’ Mr Osborne looked at the duke over the rim of his spectacles. ‘Your Grace … young Lord Chalfont is a pleasing enigma.’
‘He is certainly unusual,’ agreed the duke. ‘Did Mr Hopkins happen to catch sight of his lordship’s new housekeeper?’
‘He did. She and the children accompanied his lordship to the village on the day of his recital. Hopkins said that the lady was of dainty stature and her hair, a most striking silver-blonde colour. Unfortunately, he was unable to meet either her or the earl.’
‘I doubt that doing so would have added to what we know.’ Rockliffe rose. ‘As always, you have been most commendably thorough, Mr Osborne. I am most grateful.’
* * *
A little later, having passed on the bulk of Mr Osborne’s discoveries to Adeline, Rockliffe said pensively, ‘The question now is whether or not to pay Lord Chalfont a visit. I find I am rather tempted by the idea. This is partly because I do not find the notion of Elizabet
h … let us continue for the moment to assume that it is Elizabeth … living with a young man of unconventional habits and three illegitimate children entirely suitable. But I confess that I am also intrigued by the idea of his lordship giving impromptu recitals to the villagers.’
‘And if you go there and find that it isn’t Elizabeth? What then? You won’t be able to leave her there. And how do we explain having two Arabella Brandons?’
‘Yes,’ he sighed. ‘That will undeniably be a problem. I suppose you are going to suggest that we raise the issue with the one we already have?’
‘It would be simpler, yes.’
‘I am glad you think so.’
Adeline’s brows rose. ‘You don’t?’
‘No. I am imagining myself saying, “This may seem an odd question, Arabella … but are you by any chance really Cousin Elizabeth?” And then I am imagining her reaction if it turns out that I am wrong.’
‘Put like that, I suppose you may have a point. On the other hand, you are rarely wrong … and wouldn’t pose the question unless you were sure.’
‘Being absolutely sure requires a journey to somewhere near Newark – for which this may not be the best time.’ The dark eyes rested on her invitingly. ‘I have been exceedingly patient, my love. But if you felt able to confirm my suspicions, I would be … grateful.’
Laughter tugged at Adeline’s mouth but she said, ‘There are times when I find your famed omniscience rather trying.’
‘I’m sure. But in this particular instance – given the fact that, other than those few days each month when you prefer to sleep alone, we habitually and most unfashionably share a bed – I hardly think omniscience comes into it.’
‘Unfashionably? Perhaps that may be true. Though I’d be surprised if both Nicholas and Madeleine and also Nell and Harry did not do as we do – thus setting a fashion.’
