Fenella J. Miller (7 page)

       ‘And now? You are your own man; I cannot imagine there’s anyone or anything that could put you out of countenance. You are the more formidable. Why do you still associate yourself with him? One day he will do something so wicked he will take you down with him.’

She had gone too far; his eyes narrowed and she waited for the rebuke she richly deserved. Then to her surprise his lips curved into a smile; it was the first time she had smiled directly at her. Her heart skipped. She felt unaccountably breathless and unable to look away. She recovered her equilibrium sufficiently to speak.

       ‘Do you feel you have to keep Lord Wydale out of mischief?’

He shook his head. ‘No, frankly it’s too late for that. I do my best to protect others from him. I am here to try and undo the wrong he has done to your brother.’ Seeing the look of horror on Eliza’s face he added hastily. ‘Oh, I assure you, he never cheats. He’s known to be the best card player in Town. No one of sense will accept his challenge. He deliberately set out to charm your brother and tricked him into playing.’

‘I see. I’m hoping I can raise enough money from a trust fund to pay this debt. Have you any idea how much my brother signed away?’

‘I have not seen all his vowels, but I believe that they add up to more than thirty thousand guineas.’

This shocking discovery was too much. For the first time in her life she felt her knees buckle and the last thing she remembered was being clasped in the arms of a man she had only known for twenty-four hours, but who had already become something more than a friend.

* * * *

Fletcher caught Eliza easily, her substantial weight nothing to a man of his size. With a muttered curse he lifted her and turned to scan the room for somewhere suitable to put her down. He strode across the room and placed his unconscious burden on the only piece of furniture that was long enough to accommodate her. He pushed a pillow gently under her head, pausing for a moment at her side, drinking in her features like a man parched in a desert.

Why had he not seen her five years before, when she spent a season in London? He had always disliked his abnormal height and build, feeling clumsy around the dainty dresden misses that he came across in the drawing-rooms of society, and knew that he would have felt as comfortable with her then as he did now.

 Lying unconscious on the daybed beside him was a young woman who made him a perfect match. She was statuesque, with eyes the colour of cornflowers and hair like new mown hay. She was intelligent and funny and had no more wish to sit around embroidering useless tapestries than he did.

       Glancing hastily over his shoulder to see that they were unobserved, he bent his head and stole a fleeting kiss from the sleeping beauty. Only then did he spring to his feet and yank the bell-strap vigorously. The housekeeper appeared with such alacrity he felt she must have been waiting to receive a summons.

‘Miss Fox has swooned, I do not believe she is unwell, but she needs to be attended to. I shall take my leave, I am
de trop
. Please tell Miss Fox I shall call tomorrow to see how she does.’

Without waiting for the startled woman to reply he stepped past and took his hat from the hall-stand and walked briskly down the long narrow hall and out into the pouring rain. It was only as he stood, marooned under the portico, that he realized he had left his riding coat behind.

He grinned to himself, he was behaving like a lovesick boy. He turned and, as he did so, the front door swung open and a smiling maid silently handed him the missing garment.

Nodding his thanks, he shrugged it on, buttoning it up around his neck against the weather.

Jamming on his beaver he strode off into the rain to find his mount, which no doubt had been eating his head off in a warm stable somewhere at the rear of the building. He cantered the mile back into the village of Dedham and clattered through the archway at the Sun Inn. Immediately an ostler appeared at his side.

‘A rum old day, sir. I’ll take your horse, shall I? You’ll be wanting to get inside and dry off.’

       Fletcher dismounted and tossing the toothless old man a coin ran inside the ancient building. In the smoky beamed hall he unbuttoned his coat and shook it vigorously before tossing it over his arm. The landlady appeared from the snug.

‘Ah! Mr Fox, sir. His lordship was enquiring after you. He’s in his parlour breaking his fast and I believe he wishes to speak to you on a matter of some urgency.’

       Fletcher looked down at the dripping coat over his arm and the landlady bustled forward. ‘Here, sir, let me take that, I’ll get it dried for you in no time. I’ll put the coat back in your chamber as soon as it’s fit to be worn.’ She nodded in the direction of the window. ‘But I doubt if you’re going outside again this morning, not in this weather.’

       Ignoring her chatter he smiled his thanks and headed for the stairs. He and Wydale had been given the best rooms in the place; he had a bedchamber and parlour at the rear of the building, overlooking the stable yard and Wydale had a matching pair overlooking the busy main street.

       Outside Lord Wydale’s room he paused , a strange feeling of reluctance coming over him. He could recall exactly his conversation with Miss Fox and her damning condemnation of the man who called him friend. She was quite correct. It was long past time to sever the connection and leave the man to go to perdition anyway he chose. He knocked, but without waiting for an answer pushed open the door.

       ‘Reed, when are we leaving for Wivenhoe Park? It’s damned boring cooped up in here in the rain.’

       ‘I shall send a note straightaway. I have arranged to call in at Grove House to see Miss Fox tomorrow, I cannot depart before then.’

       Wydale shrugged. ‘So I must spend a further day in this dismal place? I swear that I cannot see what that artist fellow, Constable, sees in the countryside. Dedham is a dreary place and if I didn’t have property here I should never visit again.’

       Fletcher gritted his teeth, biting back his angry retort. How could he ever have seen this man as acceptable? However, he must keep up the pretence until he had persuaded Wydale to sell him the vowels. It would not do to cause offence until he had achieved his objective.

       ‘I’m going to change my clothes, then shall send my groom over to Wivenhoe. I am obligated to remain until tomorrow, but there’s no reason why you cannot go as soon as I hear form General Rebow. You have a closed carriage so the rain should not bother you.’

       ‘Aren’t you forgetting the delectable Miss Fox?’ Wydale sneered.

       ‘As I have said, Wydale, I shall ride over on my own tomorrow. It is merely a courtesy visit, Miss Fox was unwell when I called earlier this morning.’

       Without waiting for an answer Fletcher turned on his heel and marched out before he punched the man lolling in his chair, his dark hair in fashionable disarray and his white teeth gleaming in a knowing smirk.

       He wrote his note to General Rebow but included a request that the Fox family be invited also. He doubted if Eliza had the opportunity to attend many social functions outside her home. Smiling, he sanded the paper and folded it neatly, sealing it with a blob of red wax.

       He had no intention of commissioning any artist to paint landscapes of his estate,

However, spending an evening in the company of Miss Fox was something he was eagerly anticipating.

Chapter Seven

The smell of burning feathers roused Eliza. She opened her eyes to see her mother’s face bending over her, of Mr Reed there was no sign. She realized she was stretched out full-length upon the
chaise-longue
which stood at the far end of the drawing-room under a row of family portraits.

       ‘My dear, whatever is the matter? I have sent for Dr Smith and he will be here directly. I do hope you are not sickening for the fever; I have heard that there is some in the next village.’

       Wearily Eliza pushed herself upright, swinging her legs down to the ground as she did so. ‘I’m fine, Mama. It was shock, nothing more.’

        Her mother stared at her as if she had just emerged from Bedlam. ‘Shock? Good heavens, child, what did Mr Reed do to you? Shall I have Edmund call him out?’

       This ridiculous suggestion did much to restore Eliza’s
sang froid
. ‘No, Mr Reed is a gentleman; it was nothing that
he
did upset me. I think it’s time that I told you the whole truth, Mama. You had better sit down, I’m certain the shock of what I’m about to say might make you swoon as well.’

She waited for her parent to draw up the same curved backed chair she had used earlier and then begun her sorry tale. She left nothing out, told Mrs Fox the whole, including the astronomical amount of vowels Edmund had so foolishly signed and the slight chance that there was enough to save them invested in the funds.

       ‘It’s no wonder, my dear, that you fainted. How could you have kept this from me? The burden is for all of us to share. If we’re to remove from Grove House in a matter of weeks, arrangements have to be made, staff have to be told. You cannot expect things like this to be arranged at short notice.’

       Eliza could hardly believe what she was hearing. She had expected her mother to wail and wring her hands, but she had misjudged her. ‘I apologize, Mama. I thought to save you, Grandmamma and Sarah from the worst until I actually knew how bad things were. I realize now that whatever Papa invested for me, it will never recover the amount that we owe that hateful man.’

        ‘Hockley House, I suppose that will have gone as well?’ Eliza nodded sadly. ‘Then I must write at once to your Uncle Benjy; you have never met him, he is two years my senior and never married. He lives in the home in which I grew up, a comfortable estate in a village near St Albans. He will take us all; indeed he has asked me several times since your father died to join him at Cranston and be his housekeeper. It’s not as comfortable nor nearly as pretty as Grove House, but it is large enough to accommodate us.

       ‘Why have you never mentioned this uncle before? He has never visited; or to my certain knowledge sent gifts for our name days or at Christmas. How can you be sure, after so long, that he will wish to have his privacy invaded?’

Her mother smiled. ‘He’s not an easy man to live with. If I am honest, he has a miserly turn of mind. Living there, on his charity shall not be pleasant, but at least we shall have a roof over our heads’ Mrs Fox stood up, her normal languid style forgotten.

‘Edmund is his heir, you know. Whatever happens here, he will not be penniless. When your uncle dies your brother can restore Cranston to its former glory and make it a happy place once more.’      

Eliza was determined not to cavil at this opportunity that her mother had produced from nowhere. She felt of shiver disquiet at the thought of living with someone where every penny was counted and every mouthful watched. Poor Sarah, she would shrivel under such an austere regime.

       ‘Shall you write to Uncle Benjy, then, Mama? We do not wish to turn up on his doorstep, like gypsies, unannounced?’

       ‘Of course I shall write to him, Eliza. However, I think you were right not to tell Grandmamma or Sarah about this. Also, until we are certain what Wydale wishes to do regarding the staff, we shall not worry them. But we must tell Jane, Marie Baptiste and my mother’s maid, Betty. I suppose that Edmund will require to take Denver with him, but the rest will have to stay here, or be dismissed, and it’s better that they do not know this until we’re certain.’

       Eliza agreed. ‘My money can be used to provide pensions for the staff, that at least will solve
that
problem. I could not bear to think of our family retainers being cast aside when they are too old to find employment elsewhere. And neither do I wish them to work for Lord Wydale, they would hate it and he would not appreciate their worth.’

       ‘I should keep some money by, my dear, it will be pleasant for us to provide ourselves with a few luxuries and the occasional new gown; you can be certain that my brother will not wish to do so.’

       ‘Mama, Can I ask you not to say anything, or send that letter to my uncle, until we are sure how things stand financially? It still might be possible to pay off sufficient of the debt to enable us to move to Hockley House.’

       ‘Very well, my dear. I shall leave the matter as it is for the moment. You have a wise head on young shoulders, and you have steered us through bad times before.’ Her mother rose, her face more animated than it had been since Papa died. ‘By the way, Mr Reed said he would call tomorrow morning to see how you are.’

Her mother smiled archly. ‘Perhaps all might yet be well? I do believe that gentleman is enamoured of you. He was white as a sheet when he called us in to attend to you.’

Eliza felt a flicker of something warm rush through her. ‘Nonsense. Good heavens! We only met yesterday. How could he possibly have formed an attachment in so short a time?’

Even as she spoke the words she remembered how dear Dickon had seen her sitting, like an extremely large wallflower at Almack’s, and known that she was the one he had been looking for. Was it possible that Mr Reed had also seen something in her that she could not see herself?

       ‘I’m going upstairs to change into my work clothes, Mama. I need to get out of the house, a brisk gallop around the estate might clear my head of cobwebs.’

       Perhaps she might meet Lord Wydale and be able to cover him with mud a second time. She felt a surge of anticipation as she considered the remote possibility that Mr Reed might also be riding and that their paths might inadvertently cross.

She paused at the door. ‘Oh dear, what about Dr Smith? He will be arriving here expecting to find me unconscious and needing his attentions.’

Before she received her answer she heard the clatter of booted feet on the stairs and

Edmund arrived, Sarah not far behind him.

       ‘Thank God, Jane said you had taken poorly. What happened? I must say you look remarkably sprightly now.’