Fated Folly (23 page)

‘
Oh, I don't mean to suggest she would do so deliberately,' Kitty protested.

‘
Of course not.' He paused, and then asked casually, ‘Is Ashendon about, Kitty?'

‘
Not any longer,' she replied, and laughed. ‘He is never here, you know. He had been out all day today, and then he came home only to fetch Christian. I dare say they have gone to dine at the Crown again at Chilton. They usually do.'

Rupert thanked her, and left. He was tempted to go directly to Chilton, but it was close on the dinner hour, for one thing. For another, his desire to see Clare was stronger than his wish to settle scores with Ashendon. He drove home, and found his wife just going up to dress for dinner. They met in the hall as she was about to ascend the stairs.

‘
Rupert, thank heaven!' she cried, turning and hurrying towards him.

Rupert cast a quick look round, but Brookland, who had let him into the house by the front door, had disappeared. But the servants would be about at this hour, readying the meal.

‘
We can't talk here,' he said quickly, seizing her hand. ‘Come into the library.'

‘
Oh, Rupert, I had begun to imagine all kinds of disasters,' Clare told him almost before he had closed the door.

‘
Clare,' he uttered, grasping her other hand and drawing her towards him, ‘I can't tell you how much I regret that you have been subjected to such an insult.'

Clare blinked at him. ‘Insult? What in the world are you talking of?'

‘
The visit that was paid to you today. Of all the unmitigated—'

‘
Heavens, Rupert, I care nothing for that now,' she exclaimed impatiently. ‘Something far worse happened afterwards.'

‘
Ashendon told you of my involvement in Will's accident,' he said flatly.

She looked at him in surprise. ‘Yes, how did you know?'

Rupert grinned. ‘From Blanche. I have been chasing you about all afternoon.'

‘
Did she tell you—?' Clare broke off and disengaged her hands, instead seizing his lapels and looking up at him with real fear in her eyes. ‘Rupert, I can't bear it. I am so afraid of what Ash may try to do to you.'

Rupert smiled reassuringly down at her, his arms encircling her. ‘You need not be, my child. I am more than capable of dealing with Ashendon.'

‘
Yes, but you don't
do
anything,' Clare protested, adding in a wistful tone, ‘Could you not knock him down?'

‘
I could,' he agreed, amused, ‘but I hardly think it would answer the purpose.'

‘
Perhaps not,' Clare said regretfully. ‘But it would serve him out. I wish I could do it myself.'

He chuckled. ‘What an “ogreish” child you are, minx.'

‘
It is not a laughing matter, Rupert,' Clare told him reprovingly, but she twinkled nevertheless.

Rupert dropped a light kiss on the top of her head and released her. He moved to the desk and perched on it, his face going solemn again. ‘There is one thing I must ask of you, Clare.'

Anxiety gripped her. ‘What is that?'

‘
Don't look so worried. It is a favour merely.'

‘
Yes?'

‘
Don't, I beg of you, trouble Will on this matter.'

Clare bit her lip. ‘You've been to the Grange.'

‘
Yes.' He must have seen her instant annoyance for he put out a hand. ‘Don't be vexed with Kitty. She is only concerned for her father. We none of us care to refer to the matter in his presence. He becomes very much affected.'

‘
Oh, I see,' Clare said, subsiding at once. ‘Why did not Blanche tell me?'

He smiled. ‘I gather you did not give her an opportunity.'

She came to him where he sat on the desk. ‘Why does Ash have this stupid notion about you? Was he present?'

‘
Not at the time,' Rupert responded, his voice hard and flat. ‘But, most unfortunately, perhaps, he happened to be out birdsnesting in the forest. He found Will while I had gone to get help.'

Clare watched him intently. ‘And?'

‘
He took his father for dead. When I got back with some men from the estate, and a hurdle to carry Will, he launched himself at me, calling me—oh, God knows what names. He was only a boy then, and I was easily able to overpower him. He calmed down a little when I managed to make him understand that Will was alive.' He sighed, as if a great weight was upon him. ‘But his first impression has never left him, as you see.'

Clare was silent for a moment, both moved by the story and conscious of a stirring within her. Not of compassion, which might have been natural, but of a burning indignation, of the crudest kind. For how should she judge? How should she have this strong conviction that an injustice had been perpetrated? She loved Rupert, and would not believe ill of him. But she did not
know
. How could she?

‘
It is not a pretty story,' Rupert remarked.

‘
No.'

Rupert reached out a finger and smoothed the crease between her eyebrows.

‘
What are you thinking so hard about, my...minx?'

Clare hardly noticed his hesitation. Nor did she answer his question, but instead said, ‘There is something I wish to ask you. You need not answer, if—if you had rather not.'

Rupert regarded her steadily. ‘Must you ask it?'

‘
Well, no one but you can tell me.'

‘
Very well.'

Clare hesitated. ‘Perhaps I—no, nothing. It does not matter.'

He drew a breath. ‘You want to know if Ashendon was right?'

‘
No! Do you not know me better than that?'

Rupert's hand came up and cupped her face. ‘Yes, I do. Forgive me.'

Clare seized his hand and held it tight between both her own. ‘I want to know why Meriel...defected.'

His hand gripped hers suddenly, and he looked away. ‘That is a long story.' His eyes came back to her. ‘Loss of—affection—means also loss of faith. There is a side of me that you have but glimpsed, of which Meriel saw rather too much. I cannot altogether blame her.'

‘
Don't say any more,' Clare interrupted all at once. She could not stand to hear it, for she could well blame Meriel. If she had truly loved Rupert—! Quickly, she added, ‘I should not have asked.' Releasing his fingers she came closer, her hands going to his shoulders, within her reach now as he perched on the desk. ‘What are you going to do, Rupert? About Ash?'

‘
Don't trouble yourself over it, Clare,' he said gently, giving her a hug. ‘Trust me, I have the matter in hand.'

 

 

 

Chapter Nine

 

Rupert found his heir and Ashendon in the taproom of the Crown at Chilton. Christian was facing the door as he came in, and Rupert could have laughed at the consternation that entered his face. He saw the boy nudge his companion, muttering under his breath.

Ashendon turned his head, and a faint look of apprehension came into his face. But he put his fingers to his nostrils and took snuff in a leisurely way.

‘
Well met, Cousin Rupert,' he drawled, his lips curving into a half sneer.

For the first time, Rupert noticed a couple of other young men, with whom the two had evidently spent the evening. One rose to his feet, eyeing Rupert in a way that told him his wrath was showing in his face.

‘
Evening, Wolverley,' nodded the other, but Christian said never a word, his eyes never leaving Rupert's face.

Rupert ignored all but Ashendon. Moving to the table, he looked down into his cousin's face. His voice was ice.

‘
You will oblige me, Ashendon, by coming out into the yard.'

The sneer on his quarry's face became more marked. He leaned back, his pose negligent, and, Rupert suspected, deliberately insolent.

‘
Why should I, cousin?'

Rupert's gaze did not waver. ‘If you wish, the matter shall be settled right here. But I think you will prefer a degree of privacy.'

Ashendon glanced around, clearly becoming aware of the growing silence around them. Rupert waited in the expectant hush. He had no desire to cause a scene in public, but his business with his cousin could not wait.

To his relief, Ashendon's nerve deserted him. He managed a short, scornful laugh, but he rose from his chair and, glancing about the interested faces said, with a creditable assumption of ease, ‘Needs must when the devil drives.'

Rupert, having achieved his object, did not wait but turned immediately for the door. Confident that he had made his point, he moved off down the corridor towards the inn yard without looking back to check that Ashendon followed.

From the yard behind the inn, as Ashendon emerged, Rupert saw Christian take up his station at the inn door, his task obviously to repel any would-be spectators who might be ready enough to watch a good mill. And, indeed, already a trickle of curious eyes were heading for promising vantage points about the windows of the inn. Several ostlers and grooms who had business in the yard instantly pricked up their ears, and began to form a ring. But that could not be helped.

Ashendon came to where Rupert stood awaiting him in the centre of the yard.

‘
Well, cousin, what now?' he said, folding his arms.

His hat and coat had been left behind in the tap-room, and he faced Rupert in his shirtsleeves and waistcoat, his uncovered hair falling a little across his brow.

‘
Can it be that you were not expecting me?' Rupert asked coldly.

Ashendon gave a mirthless laugh. ‘I am not your keeper, cousin.'

‘
Don't try to trifle with me. Are you really so complacent as to imagine that there would be no retribution?'

‘
Oh, you won't touch me, Rupert,' Ashendon said harshly. ‘You dare not. It would accord very ill with your vaunted care of my father.'

Rupert's smile was grim. ‘You are quite right, Ashendon. I won't touch you. I would not soil my hands.'

He paused a moment, and then his wrist came up, showing the cane he held.To his satisfaction, Ashendon paled.

‘
I am quite ready, however,' Rupert resumed coolly, ‘to administer a thrashing with this. A suitable implement for boys.'

‘
What?' gasped Ashendon, his assurance slipping. He backed a step. ‘You wouldn't dare!'

From the doorway, Christian ran forward in shocked disbelief. ‘Rupert, no!'

Behind him, the tap-room inhabitants began to pour out of the inn. Rupert ignored them, his eyes on Ashendon as the young man stared at the weapon in his hand.

‘
Rupert,' Christian said, low-voiced, coming up to his cousin as if he would intervene. ‘I beg of you, give him a fair chance.'

Rupert's eyes never left Ashendon. ‘A fair chance?' he grated. ‘After what he has done to my wife? Had she a fair chance?'

Christian fell back, his eyes going to Ashendon. ‘I'm sorry, Ash.'

Ashendon's eyes were on him, but Rupert saw uncertainty there. He wondered if the boy would offer an apology, or try to mitigate his actions. Could he be merciful? Would the threat alone answer?

Suddenly Ashendon ducked down and leapt forward, his head butting into Rupert's chest. Staggering, Rupert absorbed the impact, although momentarily deprived of breath. Then he reached out, twisted, and threw his cousin a cross-buttock. Ashendon fell heavily and lay there winded.

Rupert waited, hearing the murmurs about him only at a distance. He watched the boy turn and push himself up on his elbows, staring up with a mix of fear and desperation in his eyes.

‘
You need lessons in boxing as well as manners, Ashendon,' Rupert said curtly. ‘But my business is only to teach you one thing.'

He raised the cane and held it poised, ready to strike. Everything in him urged him to wield the weapon to useful effect, with blows that might repay every insult, every nuance of suspicion heaped upon him by his cousin. Upon him, and now upon Clare. But as the image of his wife came into his head, he recalled what she once had said to him.
Anger is also a passion, and you have at this moment very little control.
What would Clare think of him, should he abandon his humanity, and the claims of family and conscience? He stayed his hand.

‘
I will give you one chance, my young friend. One more such trick as you have played today and you will feel my wrath. I trust I make myself plain.'

His words must have been audible to the whole place, and Ashendon reddened. Rupert waited to see if he would retaliate, or risk another stab at a fist fight, but the boy remained where he was, glaring.

‘
Your quarrel is with me, Ashendon,' Rupert said crisply. ‘Don't bring my wife into it again.'

Then he turned on his heel and left the yard through the inn door, wholly ignoring the press of persons about the scene.