by Sophia James
A pawnshop sign opposite caught his attention and, checking to see that no conveyance was bearing down upon him, he walked across the road towards it, pulling off the heavy gold signet ring from his little finger as he went.
* * *
‘I think you should send back the greys, Papa. Lord Montcliffe can’t wish for the agreements to continue as they were, not after...what has happened, but we do need to ensure his discretion.’
Amethyst finally felt better today and had dressed to come down to the dinner table with her father, who watched her with a growing frown upon his face.
‘You won’t fight for your reputation, then, or for Lord Montcliffe?’
‘He was never mine to fight for, Papa. Surely you can see that?’
‘The first man who has made you live again and smile again and you give him up on a sigh? Your mother would have been disappointed in you.’
‘Why? Because I can understand that in the distaste of the ton lies a way to complete devastation? Daniel Wylde wanted me as little as Whitely did. The pair of greys arrived from him before a new day had dawned properly. Even Gerald gave me a few months.’
‘A few months of hell.’ Robert stood, his voice louder than she had ever heard it, ‘and the scars to prove it. The worst thing about it all was that I could do nothing as Whitely systematically wore you down into a daughter I didn’t recognise any more. After him you looked over your shoulder with a fear of life, love and happiness.’
He held up his hand as she went to speak. ‘Montcliffe gave you back something whether you admit it or not, Amethyst. For the first time in a long while you have seemed...happy. You took risks, you lived.’
She began to laugh because anything else was too awful to contemplate. ‘I agreed to the terms because I thought that was what you wanted, Papa. The doctor said you needed to be relaxed and rested if you were to survive your failing health and you have looked more robust since.’
‘I do not think your agreement to marry him was all about me, my dear. You called for Daniel Wylde when you were sick, again and again, and you begged for him to come back.’
‘It was the laudanum.’
‘No, it was the truth.’
‘What are you trying to say, Papa?’
‘That the Earl was the best thing that has happened to you in a long time and if you don’t do anything to make him understand the situation as you know it you will never be accepted into polite society again. That really would kill me.’
A gathering dread made her feel cold.
‘We will introduce better conditions.’ Her father’s voice held no question as he continued on.
‘Conditions?’
‘A year of marriage and fifteen thousand pounds every four weeks and then a lump sum at the end.’
She shook her head. ‘No more, Papa. We’ll simply stay here at Dunstan House. I never need to return to London again.’
‘Hiding, then? Like your hands in the gloves and your hair beneath the wig. You’re twenty-six, Amethyst, soon to be twenty-seven, and there are not too many of the good years to go. Child-bearing years, the chance of a family and of happiness is dwindling with each and every successive month you tarry. Even now—’
She stopped him. ‘I am not an old maid yet.’
‘But you might be if you are not careful. Then what would Susannah have to say? Flourishing, she instructed. Make our daughter flourish, were the last words she ever said to me. If you have your way of things there will be no chance of that.’
‘So you are saying?’
‘That the marriage between you and Daniel Wylde, the Earl of Montcliffe, goes ahead.’
‘No.’
‘The marriage goes ahead and you show Montcliffe exactly who you are. You tell him the truth about Whitely and the way he used you and hurt you.’
‘No, I can’t do that.’
‘Then I will call in each and every debt his estate owes and ruin him. Is that what you want?’
‘I don’t believe you are saying these things, Papa.’ Horror stripped her words back to a whisper.
‘If you tell me you have absolutely no feelings for Lord Daniel Wylde, I will stop. All of this. We will simply leave England and head...anywhere. But you must also remember that there is every good chance according to the best of London’s specialists that you will soon be completely alone and without my support.’
She was silent. She tried to speak, she did, from the well of sense and logic and reason she knew was inside her, but the words just would not come.
Relief passed into the lines of her father’s face. ‘Very well. I shall send Montcliffe a message tomorrow outlining the new conditions, Amethyst. If I have not heard back from him by the end of the week, I will go down to London myself and visit him. I do not think he is a person who would break his word on keeping the silence of our demands and I also know that Goldsmith will be calling in his own debts, too.’
‘My God.’
‘Are we in agreement, then?’
She could imagine Daniel receiving both her father’s and Goldsmith’s demands all in the same month. Pale green eyes rose in memory, the golden shards warm with humour at the ball and then icy with distaste in the carriage.
Once he had admired her, she could tell that he had. Once he had trusted her and lauded her honesty and truth. Once he had kissed her, sensuously, expertly, so that the blood in her temple had pounded in an unending and heavy din. More. More. More.
That was the worst of it. She had pressed her body back against his own as they had danced and known the hard outline of his sex. She had felt his breath mingle with hers, life-giving and wonderful, his lips so close, his smile just for her, the light of the chandeliers falling in quiet patterns across them, magical and bliss filled.
Oh, how he must be laughing now.
Crazy, deceitful Amethyst Cameron, trading her way into a betrothal that he did not wish for and refusing to let him go.
If she had any sense left, she would instruct her father not to take things further, then simply accept what had happened and move on.
To what? To where?
The quandary bewildered her. Without the Camerons’ money Daniel would have to sell Montcliffe Manor and she knew him well enough to understand that would be something he would hate to do. Marriage, then, to another heiress, another woman who might sweeten the pot with gold and property. And a hasty one at that given the timings.
Nay, she might still be the best of all evils if she threw down her cards in the right order and gave him space to play it out. Marriage was like business, after all, and both parties had to feel they had made a good deal or things quickly went sour.
‘I will agree to try again, Papa, but this time I will write my own conditions.’
‘Very well.’ The smile in his eyes was bountiful.
Taking a sheet of paper from an armoire on one side of the room, she proceeded to do just that.
* * *
Daniel could not believe what he was reading. The Camerons’ lawyer, Alfred Middlemarch, on the other side of the table sat very still, no expression on his face, a man used to the strange and fickle ways of the very rich.
‘And they want me to sign this today?’
‘They do, my lord, and most generous Mr Robert Cameron has been, there is no doubt on that. I do not think he wishes to draw out the procedure, so to speak, but wants a quick and expeditious process so that all concerned might move on in the right direction with their lives.’
The right direction?
Goldsmith’s lawyer had been to see him again yesterday with his own amended set of demands. Four weeks now and no longer the stated twelve to repay the debt. A coincidence? Daniel thought not. Other debtors, too, had foreclosed as word had spread of the poor financial status of the Wyldes. He could barely kee
p up with the sums mooted or the spiralling escalation of debt.
‘There is also a page of further conditions that Miss Cameron herself has penned. She asked me to give them to you under strict confidence and made me promise to reiterate that you were not to let anyone else know of them. Including myself. She has made me promise that I shall burn the paper as soon as you leave unless you wish to take it with you.’
The missive was sealed, the red wax engraved with the letter ‘C’, two yellow ribbons splayed out beneath it.
Pulling on the tabs Daniel brought the sheet into the light. The hand was neat and small, flourishes of fancy every so often at the end of a sentence.
If you are reading this I want you to know how sorry I am for all that has happened. It was not meant to be this way.
Your family’s well-being is as important to you as my father’s happiness is to me, so if this marriage is to go ahead I propose that:
You can build up a stable of breeding horses at the Dunstan stables that would be unlike anything else seen in England.
You have carte blanche on buying the livestock.
We will have as little to do with each other’s daily lives as you wish for.
My personal fortune will be at your disposal to ensure the future of the Montcliffe lineage and property as well as that of Dunstan House.
Yours sincerely
Amethyst Amelia Cameron
‘Damn.’ He muttered the word beneath his breath and the man opposite looked up.
‘I hope it is to your liking, my lord.’ The expressionless face of Middlemarch neither softened nor hardened. ‘Will you take it with you or shall I burn it?’
‘I will keep it.’
‘Very well. I do not wish to hurry you along, Lord Montcliffe, but...’
‘You are a busy man.’
‘Exactly. The Camerons have always been good clients and honest people. Their payments are regular and prompt and in all my years of working with Mr Robert Cameron I have seldom heard one bad word against him, professionally or personally.’
The Montcliffe family lawyer chose that point to turn from the window. Mr Athol Bailey was of the old school of law, but had allowed the Cameron’s legal representative to outline the terms of the agreement mooted in his office. For his own benefit Daniel thought, but also as a means to an end. The Montcliffe fortune was in danger of collapsing completely and the severity of the problem was not going to just go away. Bailey spoke now as he rounded the desk to sit in a leather chair to one side of it.
‘The word about town, Lord Montcliffe, is that other parties hold several loans against the Montcliffe estate and they are interested in settling them quickly. Lord Greyton’s representative, for example, is a colleague of mine and, whilst I hope I do not speak out of turn, I would say that the general opinion is that you are on the verge of bankruptcy. As your family retainer, my lord, and given the expenses that your mother incurs in her daily and general life, I would advise you to reflect very carefully about an offer that could only be conducive to the financial well-being of the Wyldes from now on and into the future.’
‘I see.’
For the first time that morning Bailey smiled and, looking over at the Cameron’s lawyer, Daniel spoke. ‘Will you take a message back for me? I would require an answer as soon as possible.’
‘Of course.’
‘Could you tell the Camerons that I agree to their proposals, but the small wedding will be held at Montcliffe Manor. I want only my bride and her father to be in attendance. No one else.’
‘Certainly, my lord.’
‘Could you also tell Miss Cameron that I shall be sending her a bill for the damage incurred to the roof of my carriage whilst she was under the influence of her fit of madness.’
‘Indeed, my lord.’ Middlemarch’s countenance did not falter as he handed over one of his inked quills. ‘Just here, if you may.’ He waited until the deed was signed before flipping over to another. ‘And here.’
Finally the old lawyer stood, depositing the documents into a well-worn leather briefcase. ‘I consider my business done and I would like to thank you both for allowing me the time and place to present this agreement. I hope you are as happy with the outcome as I know my clients shall be, Lord Montcliffe, and I wish you the very best for the future.’
* * *
Ten minutes later Daniel was back on the street and his mood was as black as the clouds he could see amassing over to the west. He had been played like a fish on the line, the bait of his own demise as imminent as the Camerons would know it to be. Until this past week he had not had one single debt of his brother’s presented to him. Did Robert Cameron have some dealings there as well to force his hand and hurry things up?
But why would he do so? Surely a dozen other down-on-their-luck lords could be cajoled into a union with Miss Amethyst Cameron and with far more ease, even given the scandalous nature of her first husband’s business.
His mind went back to the carriage ride home. She had acted like a crazed woman, with little sense or reasonableness, her shrill cries still ringing in his ears. He had never met another like her, that was the trouble, one part innocent and the other part as deceptive as hell. She was her father’s daughter on the one hand and her own particular mix of madness on the other.
Yet he had signed on the dotted line. For his mother and his sisters and a grandfather who barely knew the time of day.
‘More fool me,’ he muttered, pleased to see his town house materialise before him and also the possibility of a stiff drink. His lineage would stay safe and Montcliffe Manor would not need to be sold. Such protections would have to be enough. The dull ache in his thigh mirrored the pain in his head.
Charlotte Mackay arrived on his doorstep just as he did and this time there was no mother or brother anywhere in sight.
‘Might I come in just for a moment, Daniel? I realise that I am hardly the person you wish to see, but I would appreciate at least a moment or two of your time.’
Today she was dressed in a woollen cloak with the buttons done up tightly to her neck. With a quick nod he showed her through to his library, but he did not sit down as he waited for an explanation as to why she had come.
‘I am more than sorry for the scene at the Herringworth ball. I have been trying to get up the courage to allow explanation, but it has been hard.’ Swallowing she looked at him.
‘The allotted period of mourning society deems appropriate for a bereaved widow has been most...difficult and it is only in the past month that I have been allowed to enjoy my life again. As a result of everything I have come to the conclusion that a year of black clothes and dour conversation shows not only the nonsense of marriage but also my unsuitability to such a state.’
‘In what way?’ For the life of him he could not understand why she should be telling him this.
Her right forefinger tucked an errant golden curl up into the folds of her hat as she gave him answer. ‘I am committed to enjoying every single moment I have left to me, Daniel. After Spenser I saw that sometimes bad things can happen.’ Shaking her head, she went on, drawing herself up a little. ‘Your finances are in a poor state. I have heard that from many people and your brother’s problems at the card table are no longer a secret. As my own bank accounts are most healthy I thought perhaps as a friend I could offer you a way out of the mess you now find yourself in.’
He knew what was coming and he tried to stop her by holding up his hand, but she took little notice of the gesture.
‘I will pay off some of your debts in exchange for you and I becoming lovers again. I have missed you and I made a huge mistake when Spenser offered for my hand. But now there is an opportunity for us...’
‘No.’ He could say it in no other way than that.
‘No?’
‘Thank you, but I cannot ta
ke you up on the offer, Charlotte.’
‘Because you are angry at me for ruining your chances with Mrs Whitely?’
At that he laughed. ‘Hardly.’
‘Then why?’
He took his time in answering. ‘Spenser was an only child and the last of his family line. I have heard it said that his parents want you to reside with them in Scotland in return for the large sums of money they have bestowed upon you and which you accepted on your husband’s death. It seems Spenser Mackay’s mother thinks of you as a daughter?’
‘You sound like my mother, Daniel, and I do not want to hear this.’ Moving closer, she brought her fingers along the line of his cheek. ‘Scotland is full of sad memories for me and I want to feel again what I did, with you, in your arms, before it all went wrong.’
Once he might have been flattered by the offer she had just made him, but now all he could think about was the chaos of their past. ‘I think, Charlotte, that the time for us has gone.’
‘Kiss me then and tell me that afterwards.’
She did not wait for him to move, but pressed herself up against him, her lips brushing along his own, warm and full and remembered. The same smell of gardenias and the same feel of softness.
Shaking his head, he placed both hands on her shoulders and moved her away. Carefully. The clock in the corner boomed out the hour of three and apart from the sound of its heavy ticking there was silence in the room.
‘You won’t allow me in because of your brother? Nigel was a...dalliance. I knew as soon as we had slept together it was a mistake.’
He tried to smother the anger that he could feel building. ‘If it was not Nigel, then it would have been someone else, Charlotte, and by then I did not care enough anyway.’
‘You are refusing me?’
‘I am.’
‘But I love you, Daniel. I have always loved you.’ She was crying now, the tears running down her cheeks. ‘You were distant at the end of...us. If you had been more attentive, none of this would ever have happened. But we can change it and with only a little effort we could again be—’
