A Banbury Tale (27 page)

“Gammon!” Tilda interjected. “You know that is not what Timothy meant. And why should my domestic arrangements be of such interest to the world?” Her tone was rebellious.

Letty wondered why a gentleman so well appointed as Timothy Rockingham should nourish a tendre for this ramshackle creature. Tilda paid for dressing, as was shown by her elegant green velvet riding habit, but she was much too independent and mettlesome.

“Just think what antics you might indulge in, unchaperoned,” Micah was kind enough to explain. “You might entertain a steady stream of male visitors, and no one would know.”

“The servants would know, for a start. Do you think Puggins would tolerate such depravity?” Tilda scowled at him. “I hardly think I would dare engage in such activities without them coming to your ears.”

“We all know,” murmured Eunice with a malicious titter, “that there is little dear Mathilda will not dare!”

“Don’t concern yourself with
my
sensibilities,” retorted the Earl, effectively distracting the Duchess from this impertinence. “I am not easily shocked.”

“And I am?” inquired Agatha. “Do stop this brangling!” She addressed Tilda severely. “Your household, my dear, is devoted to you. There isn’t one of your servants who wouldn’t lie himself blue in the face to keep from tarnishing your good name.”

Claude listened, fascinated. It sounded like Lady Tyrewhitte-Wilson was inclined to engage in shenanigans. He wondered if this might be turned to his advantage, for he suspected she was not indifferent to the Earl.

“You may set your conscience at ease,” Tilda said. “I intend to conduct myself with the utmost propriety.” The Earl indulged in what sounded very much like a snort.

“Your intentions, Mathilda, are always good.” The Duchess was stern. “It is in their execution that you falter.” She turned her fierce visage on Micah. “What is this quibbling over a room? The Hall is large enough to house an army and, if memory serves, it has.”

Claude listened, with interest. It was not inconceivable that this great rambling structure would soon be his daughter’s home.

“Ah, but consider the condition of the remaining chambers,” the Earl replied. “They are small and mean, hardly the style to which Tilda is accustomed.”

“I would prefer,” remarked Tilda, “to remain in my own chambers in my own home.”

“Dominic
’
s
home!” Eunice interrupted. She was ignored.

“I have it!” remarked the Earl, with perverse delight. “You shall have Cassandra’s room. I daresay it will suit you well enough.” Maddy stared, brought briefly out of her brown study by this summary disposition of that locked and forbidden chamber. She recalled the tragic fate of its last occupant.

“Excellent!” approved Agatha. A sharp glance quelled further protest. “You are outnumbered, Mathilda.”

Micah smiled. “Tilda has yet to learn to accept defeat gracefully.”

Claude cleared his throat. “Wilmington,” he said, “I must have a word with you.” It did not at all suit him to have this fiery creature residing under the Earl’s roof, particularly since his daughter was proving so damnably difficult, and had now announced an intention to remain a spinster until the end of her days.

“A noble impulse,” remarked the Earl wickedly, “but it’s unnecessary for you to give up your chamber so that Tilda will be comfortable. It is more fitting that she should occupy my wife’s rooms.”

Claude looked as though he’d swallowed a distasteful morsel, and his spouse hid a smile. Tilda, wondering what new game the Earl played, reluctantly agreed. Bevis would be incensed, but she cared not for that. It was as well, she supposed, that she not be left virtually alone while there was a possibility that Alastair lurked in the neighborhood. The thought brought the frown back to her brow.

Motley wondered what caused Lady Tyrewhitte-Wilson to regard an exquisite Sevres vase with such unwonted seriousness, but the Duchess grew restless again. “Where can they be?” she demanded irritably. Kenelm and Lionel had ridden to the village to ascertain whether Clem had caught the London stage. “They’ve had time to twice go there and back again.”

“It’s my opinion,” commented the Earl, “that the chit is cutting a wheedle. She’ll soon appear, and affect great surprise that her absence has brought us all to a standstill. Or it may be a ploy to make Kenelm declare himself.”

“That makes no sense,” Tilda observed with satisfaction. “He’s already made her an offer.”

“An event,” murmured Letty bitterly, “for which my niece is entirely to blame. My son and an actress! Never have I been more mortified. I hope that he may never find her, so we may have peace again.”

“An un-Christian attitude,” remarked Lady Henrietta, “and precisely, Letty, what one might have expected of you.”

Letty gasped and assumed an unearthly pallor but was soon revived, not so much by Eunice’s smelling salts as by Timothy’s solicitude.

“I do not seek to understand the female mind,” the Earl remarked. “It is eminently irrational.”

Hostilities might have broken out anew, with Agatha an appreciative auditor, had not Lionel’s voice sounded in the hallway. Maddy sprang to her feet, with an eagerness that did not escape her mother’s watchful eye.

“What word?” she cried as he entered the room.

“There is no trace of her.” Lionel looked unusually grim. “It is almost certain that she did not take the stage. Kenelm goes to London now. He means to search for her among her old acquaintances. It is possible that she found her way there by other means.” There was no need to add that it was even more likely that the girl had met with foul play. Nor did Lionel advise his silent audience that Kenelm also meant to seek out Alastair Bechard. Having delivered this unencouraging news, Lionel went to try once more to persuade Kenelm from this latter course.

“If the girl meant to return to the stage,” Agatha remarked bitterly, “she might at least have taken her leave of us in the ordinary way! Though why she would resume a career for which she admittedly had little aptitude when young Jellicoe is head over heels in love with her is more than I can say.” Letty’s moan was ignored by all save Timothy, who sympathetically patted her hand, an act that brought a becoming flush to that lady’s cheeks.

“Love, I’m told, is an emotion that inspires one to act in an extremely odd manner.” Micah gave no indication of ever having suffered this malady. “Perhaps this will teach you to be more careful of what stray dogs you bring home. You would have been saved a great deal of trouble, Agatha, if you’d left the girl where she belongs.”

“How true,” muttered Eunice, who unreasonably blamed Maddy for the loss of her comfortable home. “I cannot think what Dominic would say to such goings-on! He would be shocked that scandal has invaded the neighborhood—and, indeed, has come so close to home.” Her malicious glance rested on Tilda. “Yes, Dominic would be very disturbed.”

“On the contrary.” Lady Tyrewhitte-Wilson wore a thoughtful air. “Dominic would have remarked that the fate of such a creature had naught to do with him, and would have promptly dismissed it from mind.” She smiled. “If Dominic’s rest is disturbed, Eunice, it is only by your constant references to his saintliness.”

“How can you!” cried Maddy. “Clem may lie injured somewhere, she may even be dead, and you can do nothing but dissect her character! Clem took her place on the stage because there was nothing else she could do, but her lineage is impeccable, perhaps more so than your own!” She looked daggers at the Earl. “She, at least, has never been accused of murdering someone!”

“Madeleine!” Motley was scandalized. Her rage boundless, Maddy abruptly left the room. Tilda, regarding the Earl’s granite features, reflected that Micah’s courtship of Maddy was the strangest she’d ever been privileged to witness.

* * * *

“Eh bien
!” Hands on hips, Clem surveyed the humble room that had obviously once been inhabited by those born to a less exalted state in life than she had previously enjoyed. The furnishings were crude and sparse. Through two small windows set high in a wall came the only illumination. “I do not think I like this place.” Closer inspection revealed that the windows were useless as an avenue of escape. Clem moved to disdainfully peer into the littered fireplace.

“It is fortunate,” came a voice from a dark comer, “that it has not been my object to please you.” Clem started and whirled around, her heart pounding in her ears. Foolish to have thought herself alone. It was doubtless an effort of the drug that still lingered in her mind.

“You!” She glared at Alastair Bechard. “I should have known, for no other would dare treat me so shamelessly!” Lord Bechard made no reply, but busied himself with the lighting of a candle. Clem wrinkled her nose at the smell. “I suppose it was also you who set upon me in the wood, knocked me senseless, and transported me here?”

“Who else?” inquired her captor. Clem did not appreciate the quality of his smile. “Did you think to easily escape me? You were not the prey I had in mind, but I am
adaptable and immediately altered my plans when I saw you enter the wood.”

“Had I known,” Clem retorted bitterly, “I would never have gone next or nigh the place. What is it you want of me?”

Alastair’s teeth flashed wickedly as he moved across the room. Clem took a prudent step backward. “Do you not recall,” he inquired, “that I once offered to take you into my keeping, to provide for you? I had thought the matter settled, but you gave me the slip. It was not wise of you. Observe the predicament that you find yourself in.”

Clem was determined not to reveal her very precise knowledge of the devilish fix she was in. Shocking enough to have been an actress; now that Alastair had kidnapped her, she was truly ruined. Even Kenelm would balk at marrying a female whose reputation was so tattered. “What is it you want?” she repeated. “It is very good of you to wish to provide for me, but I’d as lief not be under any obligation to you.” Clem felt a wall at her back and glanced quickly around the room for a means of escape.

“The door is locked,” remarked Lord Bechard, “and the key safely secreted on my person.” He noted his captive’s expression. “You may fight like a wildcat, my pet, but you stand little chance of successfully wresting it from me.”

Clem frowned at the endearment, but was reluctantly forced to the agreement that she could do her tormentor little harm. “Tell me,” he said, “were you truly making your escape from Wilmington’s home? And were you so thoughtful as to leave a note behind?”

“Not at all,” Clem improvised wildly. “I was merely out for a stroll. My absence will have been remarked. They will be searching for me.” Since Lord Bechard had abandoned his pursuit, she perched gingerly on the edge of a chair. “You should let me go. In such an event I would, naturally, say nothing of our encounter.”

“A good try,” commented his lordship, “but you can’t pull the wool over my eyes. Young ladies seldom carry bandboxes when they set out on a leisurely stroll.” Clem glowered at that article, which sat upon a crudely fashioned table near the fireplace. “The truth, if you will.” Lord Bechard surveyed her. “Or shall I force it from you?”

The man’s tone indicated that such a pastime might be of enjoyment to him, and Clem hastened to reply. “I was on my way to London,” she snapped, “to place myself under your protection.”

“I am honored.” Lord Bechard’s smile was saturnine.

“You need not be,” Clem retorted. “I have since changed my mind.”

“Due to my use of force?” Alastair appeared quite unmoved by the rejection thus received. “I confess great disappointment in you, but it is as well.” He regarded her confusion with a kindly air. “I, too, have changed my plans.”

“Then why did you abduct me?”

“That will, in time, become clear.” It was evident that Lord Bechard enjoyed playing a cat-and-mouse game. “And now, the note? Did you think to leave one behind?”

Clem clutched at a straw. “No. So you see, they
will
come looking for me.”

“Excellent.” The man’s satisfaction puzzled Clem.

“I do not understand,” she mourned.

“Poor poppet,” sympathized his lordship. “But you must have known that I was never interested in you in the ordinary way.”

“Then why all this?” Clem asked with a bewildered glance. She thought it best to avoid the subject of where his lordship’s amorous inclinations led him. “Why bring me here?”

“So that your young swain might follow.” Lord Bechard smiled in a most unpleasant manner. “I do not doubt that he will soon appear, in hot pursuit of his missing ladybird.”

“Kenelm?” Clem frowned in an attempt at rational thought. “Why?”

“Kenelm,” Lord Bechard repeated. “Let us say that I have no wish to see you wed to Kenelm Jellicoe.”

“But I have no wish to marry him!” Clem protested. “I shall marry no one, I am done with men.”

“I think you truly believe what you say,” Lord Bechard mused, “but it will not do. I have no desire to see young Jellicoe waste away from unrequited love.”

“What have you against Kenelm?” Clem nervously wiped her hands on her skirt. It was obvious that her captor wished Kenelm no good.

“Nothing at all. I daresay he is an admirable young man.” Lord Bechard inspected his immaculate fingernails. “But it is not in my best interests that he continue in such excellent health.”

Clem’s nails bit into her palms. “You mean to murder him!”

“It is the de Villiers family against whom I hold a grudge,” Alastair replied obliquely. “It will at long last be repaid.”

“Kenelm,” Clem was quick to point out, “is not a de Villiers, but a Jellicoe.”

“Kenelm is the Comte’s heir.” Lord Bechard lovingly inspected an antique dueling pistol. Clem’s skin crawled. “And as such he is the perfect victim for a murderous attack.” He gazed upon his captive’s uncomprehending countenance. “Did you know that I was once betrothed to the Lady Henrietta? I thought not.”

Clem considered that Maddy’s mother had made a fortunate escape, and wished that she might do the same. “But how will you benefit from Kenelm’s death?”

“It is not I who will benefit, but Claude de Villiers.” Lord Bechard’s expression was bland.

“And what is my part in this?” Clem feared greatly that she already knew. Alastair grasped a heavy rope and eyed her contemplatively.