‘No one said anything about marriage, Mother. You are the only one of us obsessed with the subject. And just for the record, I can do as I please, with or without your approbation or approval. As to the intruder, I did not mention him to you because I didn’t want you and the other ladies unduly alarmed. However, since you refuse to accept my word for the fact…’ He reached into a drawer, withdrew the Kris and threw it onto his desk. ‘This is the dagger that the intruder used in the attack. I picked it up after he fled.’
His mother gasped. ‘Where did it come from?’ she asked.
‘That’s a very good question. But I think we can both agree that Miss Dorset did not hide it about her person with the premeditated intention of attacking Lady Melody in front of twenty people.’
His mother sank into a chair, looking bitterly disappointed. Even she couldn’t possibly continue to believe that Farrah had been at fault, but she wasn’t happy about it. ‘Perhaps I have misjudged Miss Dorset with regard to the attack on Lady Melody,’ she said faintly, ‘but I still do not like her and hope you are sincere when you assure me you are not thinking of marrying the girl.’
‘If and when I decide upon a bride, Mother, you will be amongst the first to know.’
‘Not good enough, Brinley, I will have your assurance that you do not think of Miss Dorset in that way. Nothing else will satisfy me.’
‘Then I fear you are destined for dissatisfaction. I am no longer fifteen years old, and I make my own decisions.’
‘Have you no sense of family loyalty?’ she asked, standing again, her face puce with rage. ‘Marry Miss Dorset and you will denigrate our name beyond recall as well as turning us into a laughing stock. Lady Melody is a much safer choice. Sweet and biddable, she will give you no trouble whatsoever.’
‘She has no money. Did you know that?’
His mother’s brow crumpled as she sent Brin an astonished look. ‘How on earth did you reach that conclusion?’
‘Is it true?’
‘Well yes, the family is not well situated, but it barely signifies since you made so much money yourself in India. It’s far more important for you to take a wife from a noble family, and Kirkham is beyond reproach. His daughter is a pretty girl who will give you handsome children.’
‘Let me see if I have got this straight,’ Brin replied, holding his seething anger in check by the sheer force of his will. ‘You object to Miss Dorset because her father has earned his money through honest trade. I have done the exact same thing and you see nothing wrong with spending as much of it as you can get your grasping hands on. Hypocrisy springs to mind.’
‘I still don’t understand how you are aware of Lady Melody’s circumstances.’
‘It’s as well that someone in this household has kept me informed,’ he replied in an icy tone, ‘since clearly you intended to deceive me in that regard.’
‘Not deceive, precisely. The particulars would have emerged.’
Since Brin didn’t intend to limit his selection of a wife to those with substantial dowries it was a moot point, but it gave him something to throw back at his mother.
‘This conversation is at an end,’ Brin said, finally standing. ‘If you do not treat Miss Dorset with the civility that is her due, there will be consequences and you will not like them. I doubt whether she will want to be included in any of the excursions you have planned for the ladies, but you will invite her and make it appear as though you are desirous of her company. Do we understand one another?’
‘Yes, of course.’ His mother, aware that she was bested, adopted a conciliatory tone, as most bullies did when confronted. She could not, Brin knew, afford to alienate him. ‘Please don’t be angry with me, Brinley. You are my son and I am inordinately proud of your achievements. But it is my duty to see you comfortably settled and the future of the duchy secured. I couldn’t abide it if the title passed to your cousin Reginald, indeed I could not.’
‘Thank you. I am conversant with my responsibilities,’ Brin replied stiffly.
‘But you appear to be in no hurry to fix your interest upon any of the suitable ladies I have gone out of my way to bring to your attention.’
‘Suitable regardless of our compatibility? None of the ninnies you deem suitable would succeed in making me happy. Indeed, they would bore me rigid.’
‘Bah! Happiness and matrimony seldom go hand in hand.’
And that, Brin knew, had been true in his parents’ case. Brin’s father had married through financial necessity and actively disliked his duchess, whom he had largely ignored in favour of a succession of mistresses. Brin could not condone his behaviour, which was why he was determined not to follow his example.
‘I will make a point of being polite to Miss Dorset, even though I cannot approve of her. In return, Brinley, I must ask you to think seriously about selecting a wife.’
‘I will not make bargains with you,’ he said in an aloof tone, flicking through the pile of letters that his secretary had left on his desk to indicate that the discussion was over.
‘This wretched weather.’ His mother glanced out the window. The heavy rain had given way to intermittent drizzle and a brisk wind. ‘I had planned to take the ladies into Exeter today to visit the shops. It won’t be a comfortable expedition in these conditions, but I have to entertain them somehow.’
‘Perhaps it was unwise to invite so many of them at this time of year, when the weather is always unpredictable.’
‘I did it for your sake, precious little thanks I get for putting myself to the trouble.’ His mother gave a martyred sigh. ‘I had best check on the arrangements.’
‘Then don’t let me detain you.’
Brin leaned back in his chair after she left him, mulling over the exchange, satisfied that he had got the better of it and that his mother would abide by his wishes. After a fashion, at least. He wondered how Farrah would respond to her overtures of faux friendship and chuckled, well aware that she would not be taken in by them. He suspected that she wouldn’t join the shopping expedition and would instead shut herself away in the orangery. He envied her the freedom of choice. Given the opportunity to indulge himself, that would be his preferred method of spending the morning, too.
Especially if she was in the same room.
‘What news?’ Brin was drawn from his introspective thoughts by the arrival of Harlow.
‘Nothing back from Castlereagh yet.’
‘Damn! I was hoping…He must have received my express, and if he had nothing to tell me then he would have responded immediately and put my mind at rest. Since he’s remained silent, one must assume there’s something he would prefer for me not to know.’ Brin thumped the surface of his desk with his clenched fist. ‘Wretched politicians.’ A flare of contempt fuelled his expression. ‘Always put their own interests first and never tell the truth, even when it’s harmless. Well, if something happens to Miss Dorset that could have been prevented by a swift and candid response from Castlereagh then he will have me to contend with and reason to regret his machinations.’
‘Ah, like that is it?’
Brin scowled. ‘Like what, Harlow?’
‘That Miss Dorset, she’s got under your skin, I can quite see that.’
‘Don’t talk such utter rot, man!’
Harlow remained unmoved by Brin’s irritation. ‘It’s me you’re talking to, and I know you better than you know yourself. I’ve never seen you take a tenth of the interest in any other chits that you do in Miss Dorset. Can’t say as I blame you. She’s a prime piece. Opinionated, amusing and not impressed by your grandeur. She don’t seem that interested in getting your ring on her finger neither, which must come as a welcome relief. You have my permission to enjoy her company.’
Brin’s irritation fell away in the face of Harlow’s blunt humour. No one else would dare to talk to him in such an irreverent manner, not even his mother and sisters, and it had the desired effect.
‘Miss Dorset intrigues me, if you insist upon knowing.’
‘No sightings of the elusive Pickard, I suppose.’
‘Nah, he’ll be long gone if he has a lick of sense.’
‘Depends how well he’s being paid.’ Brin rubbed his chin. ‘Whoever wants Miss Dorset dead is very determined, or the attempt wouldn’t have been made here on my estate in such a brazen manner. I’ll wager half my fortune that Pickard’s still in the district, waiting for another opportunity.’
‘I have the keepers scouring the estate. He won’t be secure anywhere, not for long.’
‘Right, good. I shall have to go on the shoot today, Harlow, but I want Miss Dorset protected. I have asked her not to venture outside alone—or even at all—but I don’t trust her to do as she’s told.’
‘Won’t she go into Exeter with the other ladies?’
Brin shook his head. ‘It’s unlikely. My mother has assured me that she will treat her with more respect and try to make her feel welcome, but I don’t hold out much hope of her keeping her word. Her disapproval will show through, even if she attempts to disguise it.’ He stood and paced the length of the room as he tried to decide how best to keep Farrah safe from her own impetuosity. ‘My guess is that she will remain here alone in the orangery, reading. The weather isn’t conducive to taking walks, but I’m not sure it will prevent her. Keep an eye on her, Harlow, and if she is determined to venture out of doors, you must insist upon accompanying her.’
‘Right you are.’ Harlow grinned. ‘It won’t exactly be a hardship.’
Brin scowled. ‘Don’t get so carried away with her company that you forget to be vigilant.’
‘As if I would.’ Harlow’s grin widened. ‘I’ve scoured my brain and can’t come up with the name of anyone who dislikes you enough to take a knife to one of your guests and there’s no rumours in the village of anyone talking you down.’
‘Ha!’ Brin said, mirthlessly.
‘I don’t think this is aimed at you, guv’nor. It’s to do with Miss Dorset. I’ve got someone asking questions in that gaming club in Southampton. We should have a better idea of the debts incurred by Miss Dorset’s brother and her disappointed suitor by tomorrow. And we’ll have more on Anglesey too.’ He sighed. ‘I still have people looking for Pickard but apart from that, until we hear from Southampton and the foreign secretary, there’s not much more I can do.’
‘Then we shall just have to exercise patience for a little longer.’ Brin glanced at the clock in the corner of the room as it chimed the half-hour and stood up. Shadow stirred from his place in front of the fire and wagged his tail. ‘I’d best get off to the shoot. Send someone to fetch me if anything important transpires.’
‘Don’t worry, guv’nor,’ Harlow replied, grinning once again. ‘I’ll keep her safe.’
*
Farrah indulged herself by sleeping late on the morning after the rather extraordinary exchange with Brin in the orangery. The sound of heavy rain pounding against the window glass had been sufficient to keep her in the warmth of her bed. There would be no bracing walks for her that day, she decided, and nothing to get up for. Farrah felt no compelling need to involve herself in whatever entertainments the duchess had arranged. Quite the opposite. The thought of all those books in the orangery waiting to be read was far more alluring.
It was gone eleven when she rang for Susan. She attended to her ablutions and broke her fast in her chamber in a leisurely manner. The hostility of the other ladies the previous night had been negated by her interlude in the orangery with Brin. She felt a warm glow deep in the pit of her stomach when she recalled the intense manner in which he had looked at her. The way in which his irises had been darkened by passion when he had pulled her against him and kissed her.
Almost.
In retrospect she was both pleased and frustrated to have had the moment interrupted by his mother. Who else could have used such impeccable timing, she thought, rolling her eyes in exasperation? Be that as it may, she was grateful to the duchess in many respects. Brin was a man of the world, vastly experienced in matters of the heart and the bedchamber. Farrah had never been kissed and never felt the least desire to change that situation, until she’d found herself alone with Brin and felt an inexplicable draw towards him. She had no idea what that kiss would have led to.
Brin might be an experienced rogue but he was also a gentleman and she a lady, so Farrah assumed that their passions would have started and ended with that kiss. In which case, it was better that matters had not progressed, since she was perfectly sure that she would have been left feeling both curious and frustrated. Her enquiring mind could sometimes be a curse, and she would probably have insisted upon learning what came next. She felt her cheeks warm at her potential audacity, well aware that she couldn’t be trusted not to allow passion to overcome convention.
‘I am grateful to the duchess for preventing me from making an almighty fool of myself,’ she muttered to her reflection, thinking that if she repeated the phrase often enough she would come to believe it.
Susan returned and helped Farrah into a warm day gown.
‘It’s a horrible day, miss,’ she said. ‘I don’t envy the gentlemen, standing about in it all day shooting at things. They’ll get soaked to the skin and freeze half to death.’
‘Men don’t mind a little inclement weather,’ Farrah replied. ‘They don’t have to worry about their hair turning frizzy or their petticoats getting muddy.’
Susan giggled. ‘Now there’s a prospect. Men in petticoats indeed! I never did hear such a thing.’ She tidied Farrah’s hair. ‘Shall you join the other ladies on their shopping expedition, miss?’
‘What shopping expedition?’
Susan blushed. ‘Oh, did you not know of the plan? Well, I dare say they will tell you when you go down.’
In which case, Farrah would not go down until she was sure they had left without her. The slight cut her to the quick, even though she had absolutely no desire to spend the day being vilified and ignored, and despite the fact that she had expected nothing less from women with whom she had absolutely nothing in common.
Someone tapped at the door. Assuming it would be Hazel, Farrah invited her in. It was not Hazel, but the duchess. Susan curtsied and Farrah dismissed her.
‘Your grace,’ Farrah said, standing to bob a curtsey of her own that the horrible woman didn’t really deserve. ‘Have you lost your way?’ she asked, keeping her tone even, thinking it more likely that the duchess had come to evict her from the house. The possibility of several burly footmen standing by to do the honours amused Farrah and she struggled not to smile.
A momentary scowl at Farrah’s sarcasm creased the duchess’s brow but was quickly eradicated. ‘Good morning, Miss Dorset. Do you mind if I sit?’
Highly suspicious about the visit and the duchess’s courtesy, Farrah indicated the chair closest to the fire. ‘Please do. How may I be of service to your grace?’
‘I came to apologise.’
Farrah blinked. That was the last thing she had expected. ‘You did?’
‘The duke tells me that I misjudged the…well, the situation with Lady Melody.’ Farrah remained silent, quelling the natural desire to assure the woman that no apology was necessary, since it most assuredly was. She wondered what pressure Brin had brought to bear to force her into this humiliating climbdown, since she was well aware that the duchess had not come to Farrah of her own volition. ‘We are all much obliged to you for saving Lady Melody from more serious harm.’
‘That is something that Lady Melody should tell me in person, but I don’t suppose she will lower herself.’
‘The duke is anxious for his guests not to know there was an intruder. He doesn’t want to alarm them unnecessarily.’
Farrah nodded. ‘I see.’
‘Well anyway, now that the air has been cleared between us, I hope I can persuade you to join us on our trip into Exeter today. We have some very fine s
hops.’
The duchess seemed to think that Farrah would accept her olive branch with gratitude and jump at the opportunity, which only went to show how little she understood Farrah’s character.
‘Thank you, ma’am, but there is nothing I require at the shops and I would prefer to remain here today.’
The duchess looked highly affronted. ‘You are declining to oblige me?’
Farrah lifted a shoulder. ‘It would appear so.’
‘Well…’ She stood abruptly, apparently shocked into being temporarily lost for words, which Farrah suspected was a rarity. ‘In that case, I will leave you to your solitary reverie and wish you a good day.’
She swept from the room without a backward glance, her nose in the air as though she had inhaled an unpleasant odour. Farrah sighed, wondering why she wasn’t more pleased to have had her invitation rejected. She had clearly issued it under sufferance and didn’t seem to realise that just because she had chosen to be more graciously inclined towards Farrah, the other ladies would continue to shun her.
Farrah knew that she had given the wretched woman a justifiable reason to take offence. It couldn’t be helped. Another five days, she reminded herself as she slipped down the stairs and into the orangery without encountering anyone. After five days, if she survived that long, she could return to Hampshire and put this place behind her once and for all.
She settled onto the daybed with the novel she had selected, opened the right way up this time, on her lap. She spent over an hour alternately reading and listening to the sounds of activity inside the house. She heard the deep voices of the gentlemen as they set off for the day’s shooting and wondered if Brin was among them. Since he was the host, she assumed that he must be and missed his presence, even though she hadn’t set eyes on him that day.
Never Dare a Duke Page 18
