Lord Deverill's Secret

by Amanda Grange

  “Raistrick, I’d like to introduce Miss Paxton,” said Harry uncomfortably.

  Peter pushed himself away from the pillar and stood up straight.

  “Well, well, little Cassie,” he said, then grinned. “You’ll have to forgive me for calling you that. It was what Rupert always called you.”

  “I will leave you two to become better acquainted,” said Harry, adding to Cassandra significantly, “I will not be far away if you need me.”

  “Well, well,” said Peter again, when Harry had left. He spoke heartily, but there was an underlying wariness about him. “I didn’t know you were in town. What are you doing in Brighton?”

  “I’m visiting here for a few weeks,” said Cassandra.

  “That’s a good idea. I always come here for the summer. When did you arrive?”

  “Yesterday evening,” said Cassandra.

  “Are you planning to live here?” he asked casually.

  “Alas, no. I’m afraid that at the end of the summer I will have to offer the town house for sale.”

  “Ah. It’s a sad thing, economy,” he said. “Rupert would have been saddened to know the house was going to be sold. He belonged here, in Brighton. He was very popular, you know. He was always eager for a game. We miss him badly.”

  “Thank you.” Cassandra was glad he had had some good friends, even if they were dissolute. Her brother had spent the last year of his life in Brighton and had seldom returned to the estate, preferring to drink and gamble away the small income he had been left rather than trying to restore his fortunes. It had caused her great concern and some anger, for whilst Rupert had had satin breeches and coats of superfine, Lizzie had been forced to wear cut-down clothes, but nevertheless she had loved her brother and was glad to know that he had had friends. “I never thought he would die like that,” she said regretfully, thinking of his death.

  “It’s a bad thing, to die so young,” said Peter sympathetically.

  “To be thrown from his horse…” Cassandra shook her head. “He was always such a good horse man. He could ride almost before he could walk. He had an excellent seat, and I’ve seen him hang on when other men would have been thrown.”

  Peter shrugged. “It can happen to even the best of us. He took a hedge. There was a ditch beyond it. It was dark. He didn’t see it.”

  Cassandra sighed.

  “He had been drinking, I suppose.”

  Peter shrugged as if to say, Young men like to drink.

  “I found a letter, when I was going through Rupert’s things,” said Cassandra, rousing herself from her thoughts.

  “A letter?”

  Peter looked up innocently.

  “Yes. In it, Rupert said he had done something terrible,” said Cassandra.

  “He did?” Peter’s voice was bland. “Do you have any idea of what he meant?”

  “No.”

  “He didn’t explain in the letter?” asked Peter.

  “Unfortunately not. He never finished it. I found it folded up in his breeches pocket. I was hoping you could tell me what he meant.”

  “It was probably nothing. A bad bet,” said Peter. “He liked to gamble on the races, but it’s a tricky business, racing. It’s easy to lose a fortune. I should know. I’ve lost a few fortunes myself.”

  He gave an uneasy laugh.

  “Yes. Lord Deverill thought it must be something of the sort.”

  “You should listen to him. He knows what he’s talking about,” said Peter.

  “Do you know Lord Deverill well?” asked Cassandra on a sudden impulse.

  Peter hesitated. “We’re…acquainted,” he said.

  “He, too, was a friend of Rupert’s.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. Or at least they knew each other. Perhaps theirs was only an acquaintance, too.”

  “Perhaps so.”

  He was not being very helpful and she felt that she had taken up enough of his time. He was probably longing for her to go so that he could ask some young lady to dance. Either that, or retire to the card-room, where he could spend the evening gambling.

  “As long as Mr. Goddard feels it was nothing important, then I think I can set my mind at rest,” said Cassandra. “He is not in town at the moment, Lord Deverill says. Do you know when he’ll be back?”

  “Soon. He’s never away for very long. I shouldn’t wonder if he was back by the end of the week.”

  “Do you know where he lives?” she persisted.

  Peter shook his head.

  “He moves about. He doesn’t have a house here—he can’t afford it. He gambled away his inheritance, so he has to take lodgings, but you can find him at the races. He always goes, whenever he’s in Brighton. It’s one of his favourite haunts.”

  “Then I must hope to speak to him there. Thank you, it was kind of you to speak to me.”

  “A plea sure,” he said, making her a bow.

  Cassandra returned to Maria and Harry. Now that her conversation with Peter was over she felt she could enjoy the ball. She felt her spirits lift. The room was colourful and the music lively. It was a long time since she had had so much fun.

  She was just hoping that Harry would ask her to dance with him again when Captain Wade came up to her, bringing Lord Deverill with him. He was dressed in restrained style, but his coat showed the mark of the best London tailoring.

  “May I say what plea sure it gave me to see two such fine dancers enjoying themselves at the Castle?” said Captain Wade genially, as he smiled at Cassandra and Harry. “The rooms were graced by your cotillion. It is always pleasing to see people enjoying themselves in such a manner.”

  Lord Deverill smiled at Captain Wade’s flowery speech, then set his face along more sober lines as Captain Wade turned towards him.

  “Lord Deverill, might I present Miss Paxton, and her friends, Mr. and Mrs. Winter?” he asked.

  We’ve already met, Cassandra was about to say, when she realized that it had not been a formal introduction, and that such an admission might provoke awkward questions.

  “Charmed,” said Lord Deverill, inclining his head. “Miss Paxton, would you do me the honour of dancing with me?”

  Cassandra agreed, then, ignoring Maria’s wide smile, she took Lord Deverill’s arm. As she did so, she felt a frisson of awareness travel through her, but before she could wonder what it was they had taken their places on the floor and positioned themselves opposite each other. The musicians struck the opening chords and the dance began.

  “I did not expect to see you here this evening,” she said.

  “No?”

  “You didn’t mention that you would be coming when I spoke to you earlier.”

  “I didn’t know. I had some business to attend to, and I didn’t know how long it would take me. But I like to look in on the assemblies when I have time. You have satisfied yourself with regard to your brother, I hope? I saw you speaking to Peter Raistrick.”

  “Yes. He felt as you do, that I have nothing to be concerned about.”

  “Good.” They swapped partners, then came back together again. “Do you intend to stay in Brighton long?” he asked.

  “I will be here for most of the summer, I think.”

  “Then I hope you will enjoy your few weeks’ holiday. When was the last time you were here?”

  “Four years ago,” she said, thinking that the last time she had visited Brighton, she had done so with her family.

  “You will find it has changed.”

  “Yes.” She became wistful. “Everything changes.”

  “What do you intend to do whilst you are here?” he asked.

  “I mean to go sea bathing, and go to the races,” she said, rousing herself. “Mr. Raistrick tells me I will find Mr. Goddard there.”

  “Very likely,” said Lord Deverill drily. “Have you been before?”

  “Yes, I went with my family. Rupert was always fond of a wager, and my mother loved the course. She said it was the prettiest one in England.”

 
; “It probably is,” he said. “Whitehawk Down’s a beautiful place in its own right, and of course it overlooks the sea. On a clear day the views are spectacular.”

  “My father always claimed that if the weather was good he could see all the way to France.” She sighed. “It is a pity about France. I have always wanted to go there, but now that the Peace of Amiens has broken down it is too dangerous to go. Have you ever been?”

  “Yes, I went as a child, before the Revolution, and I went to Paris again during the peace. It is a city worth seeing.”

  They talked of the latest books and plays, of the delights of the country and the joys of the seaside, and the dance passed very quickly. As the final chords sounded, Cassandra was surprised how enjoyable it had been. There had been none of the constraint she had noticed when she had called at his house, but then of course, this time he had been prepared for the meeting.

  “Cassie, Lord Deverill’s notice has made you,” said Maria as Cassandra joined her at the side of the room. “Look, here is Captain Wade coming towards you again, and he is bringing Lord Armington.”

  Maria was right. Captain Wade performed the introductions, and before she knew it, Cassandra found herself being led out on to the floor again.

  Lord Armington was an elegant man who danced with grace. As she partnered him, she found that she was entertained by his knowledgeable conversation. He told her of his art collections and his books, and the museum he meant to set up in his grounds.

  “I knew how it would be,” said Maria, when the dance came to an end. “You only had to be seen to be noticed. Lord Armington would make a splendid catch. He has an old name and a huge fortune. He’s a connoisseur of beauty, and I should not be surprised if he offers for you before the month is out.”

  “Really, Maria,” said Cassandra, laughing. “He can’t be expected to marry every young lady he partners.”

  “Which is why he seldom dances. But he has broken with his own tradition in order to dance with you,” said Maria.

  Harry coughed. “I believe he’s just asked Miss Lumax to dance.”

  Cassandra and Harry exchanged humorous glances. Maria, however, dismissed it regally.

  “I dare say he did it so he would not look particular for dancing with Cassie,” she said.

  There were no more dancers heading for the floor as it was time for supper. A number of people were already leaving the ballroom. Harry was about to offer each lady an arm when Cassandra saw that Lord Deverill was heading towards them again.

  “Miss Paxton, would you do me the honour of going into supper with me?” he asked.

  “Thank you, I would.”

  Together they joined the crowd of people heading for the supper room and took their places at the supper table. Lord Deverill sat on her right, next to a beauty with dusky curls who smiled up at him and greeted him warmly. The beauty then flashed a look of loathing at Cassandra, and her mother did likewise.

  If they only knew he has no interest in me, and that he is just being polite to a sister of one of his friends, thought Cassandra with amusement.

  The young beauty monopolized Lord Deverill’s attention and Cassandra turned to her left. She expected to find Harry there, but a number of other couples had come between them, so that Maria and Harry had had to take their places further down the table. Instead, she found she was sitting next to a well-dressed gentleman with curly brown hair. She inclined her head, and he made her a slight bow. She allowed her gaze to wander round the supper-room. It was an elegant apartment, and the food that was beginning to be served was tempting.

  Escaping the attentions of the dusky beauty, Lord Deverill asked her what she would have. She chose chicken in aspic, hot lobster and oyster pâte, whilst he took a helping of turtle. She was about to ask him whether he would be at the races later in the week when his attention was claimed by a pretty blonde young lady on the other side of the table. Cassandra smiled ruefully and took a mouthful of chicken. It seemed she was not going to have an opportunity to speak to him further, despite sitting next to him.

  She was rescued from her silence by the gentlemen to her left.

  “It’s a plea sure to see you here,” he said.

  He dabbed his mouth fastidiously with his napkin.

  “I don’t believe we’ve met,” she said, putting her fork down in surprise.

  “No, we haven’t. A sad mistake, but one I am repairing.” He smiled charmingly. “Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Elwin. I knew your brother,” he said.

  “Ah.”

  She should have expected it. Rupert must have had many more friends than Mr. Raistrick and Mr. Goddard.

  “I’m very pleased to make your acquaintance,” she said.

  “And I yours. I did not expect to see you in Brighton. You have not visited for some time.”

  “No,” she said, a little sadly.

  “Forgive me. That was tactless. You have been in mourning. But I am glad to see you here now. Have you had an opportunity to do very much since you arrived?”

  “No, very little. I’ve only been here for a few days.”

  “There is so much to see and do, and it changes all the time. I know you visited regularly when you were younger—Rupert spoke of you often,” he said. “But you will find it different to your last visit. There is a lot of building taking place, and the Prince is carrying out more work on his Pavilion. Have you seen it?”

  “Yes, I have. It was one of the first things I saw when I arrived. The stables look rather strange,” said Cassandra.

  “They do indeed. They look like something out of an Oriental dream. But they are nothing to the inside. You must make sure you see it.” He took a sip of wine. “The poor Prince has nothing to do, of course, and is bored. That is why he is forever altering things.

  He told her many tales about the Prince, some of them risqué, but all of them amusing. As supper wore on, and grape pudding, ices, soufflés, and little cakes soaked in rum replaced the chicken and turtle, the conversation moved to Cassandra, and she revealed that she had come to Brighton to prepare her house for sale.

  “Oh, but surely that isn’t necessary,” said Mr. Elwin.

  “Unfortunately it is,” she said.

  “There must be another solution to the problem, especially for someone of your beauty,” said Mr. Elwin.

  “You flatter me,” she said.

  “Not at all. Any looking-glass will tell you you are uncommonly beautiful.”

  “It doesn’t prevent me from being poor, alas,” she said, turning the compliment aside.

  “Of course it does. You can make a fortune from your face and figure. Only say the word, and I’ll introduce you to a number of wealthy gentlemen.”

  “Thank you, but I have no plans to marry.”

  He took a drink of wine.

  “I wasn’t talking about marriage. Without a dowry you’ll find it difficult to make a respectable match, especially as you have no influential friends to help you, but marriage isn’t the only option. Brighton is a tolerant town and there are other, more exciting, avenues to explore. Many of the gentlemen of my acquaintance would be pleased to give you anything you wanted. In fact, they would offer you carte blanche.”

  Cassandra could not believe what she was hearing. Carte blanche? Anything she pleased—if she was prepared to sell herself? She was astonished he had the audacity to suggest it—and then she felt herself growing angry. If she had been anywhere but at the supper table she would have walked away, but she was trapped.

  “You insult me,” she said sharply.

  He drank the rest of his wine, then dabbed his mouth fastidiously again.

  “Not at all. It’s a great compliment. The gentlemen I am thinking of can have their choice of female companions, from the wittiest to the most beautiful. You should be honoured they might choose you.”

  “I think you had better say no more,” returned Cassandra, putting down her fork with a clatter.

  “Why so superior?” he asked mockingl
y. “Rupert was never above his company.”

  “I can’t think he would have wanted you to insult his sister in this way,” she returned.

  Mr. Elwin laughed. “He’d have been trying to persuade you as much as I am. He was always fond of money.”

  Cassandra was so disgusted she half rose from her seat. Lord Deverill looked up at her in surprise, his attention caught, and further along the table she saw Maria look startled. She sat down again, determined not to let Mr. Elwin provoke her. It would not do to make a scene, but she was sorely tried. Fortunately for her self control, supper was almost at an end, and she would only have to endure Mr. Elwin’s company for a few minutes more.

  “Think over what I’ve said,” Mr. Elwin told her, as the guests began to leave the table. “You could have your house paid for, and a neat little carriage, with a couple of high steppers to pull it. Clothes, jewels…everything you want could be yours.”

  Cassandra did not deign to reply. The supper party was breaking up. Leaving the table quickly, she walked out of the room, determined to escape before Lord Deverill or Maria could ask her what was wrong. She was so angry she could not rely on herself to make a sensible reply. She headed for the ladies’ withdrawing room so that she could have a few minutes to calm herself before returning to the ballroom.

  She had not gone far, however, when she realized she was lost. The corridors all looked the same. But she did not need to find the withdrawing room. Any empty chamber would do. She hesitated. To her left was a row of doors. Listening outside the first, she satisfied herself that it was empty and then went in. It was dim inside. The candles were not lit, and the only illumination came from the fading daylight. There were a few comfortable chairs and a card table set in front of an empty grate. She ignored them and walked over to the window, then stood looking out into the twilight. She breathed in deeply. The unpleasant encounter had shaken her more than she cared to admit. She had originally thought of asking Mr. Elwin about her brother’s letter, but now she was determined never to speak to him again.