Lady Allerton's Wager (5 page)

Beth hesitated. ‘We are, but—’

‘Then I shall look forward to seeing you shortly.’ He bowed again. ‘Good evening, ma’am.’

Beth bit her lip as she watched his tall figure make its way back to the party in the Trevithick box. It seemed that the Earl was difficult to refuse. And now that Lady Fanshawe had told him everything he needed to know, his position was well nigh unassailable. With a sigh, Beth tried to direct her attention back to the play. She wondered what his next move would be.

‘I am not at all sure about these newfangled artists,’ Lady Fanshawe sighed, pausing in front of a landscape painting by John Constable. ‘Only look at those odd flecks of light and the strange
rough
technique. There is something not quite finished…indeed, not quite
gentlemanly
about it!’

Beth laughed. She rather liked Constable’s atmos
pheric landscapes and they gave her a longing for the countryside and the fresh sea air. It was pleasant to be able to escape the bustle of the London Season for a little and step through an imaginary window into another landscape, even if they were in fact in the Royal Academy and Lady Fanshawe was starting to complain that her feet were aching.

‘Why do you not take the seat over there, ma’am, if you are fatigued?’ she suggested, gesturing to a comfortable banquette placed over by the window. ‘I shall not keep you long, but I should just like to see Mr Turner’s collection in the blue room. If you would grant me five minutes…’

Lady Fanshawe nodded, sighing with relief as she took the weight off her feet. ‘Take as long as you wish, my love,’ she said, sitting back and closing her eyes. ‘I suggest we call in Bond Street on our way home. Far more to my taste, but one must be seen here, you know!’

Smiling, Beth wandered through to the second gallery. There was quite a fashionable crowd present, bearing out the truth of Lady Fanshawe’s statement on the social importance of attending the exhibition. Beth paused before a picture of seascape and gave a small, unconscious sigh. The water was a stormy grey and the clouds were building on the horizon, and far out to sea there was an island…

‘Daydreaming, my lady?’ The voice, deep and slightly mocking, caught Beth by surprise. She turned her head sharply to meet the quizzical gaze of the Earl of Trevithick. She could feel a vexatious blush rising to her cheeks and looked away swiftly. It was irritating enough that she had spent the last three days waiting for him to call on her, with a secret antici
pation that she had not acknowledged even to herself. She had just begun to relax and think that he had forgotten her, when here he was.

‘How do you do, my lord.’ Beth smiled politely. She tried not to notice how superbly elegant Marcus looked in a coat of green superfine and the fawn pantaloons that clung to his muscular thighs. ‘I hope that you are enjoying the exhibition?’

Marcus took her hand. ‘To tell the truth, I came here with the sole intention of seeing you, Lady Allerton. I called in Upper Grosvenor Street and was told that you would be here, and I hoped to persuade you to drive with me. It is a very pleasant autumn day and my curricle is outside.’

Beth hesitated. ‘Thank you, my lord, but I am here with Lady Fanshawe—’

‘I am sure she could be persuaded to entrust you to me.’ Marcus smiled down at her. ‘That is, if
you
wish to come with me, Lady Allerton. You might not want to break a centuries-old feud, after all!’

Beth could not help laughing. ‘How absurd you are, my lord! I believe I might take the risk, but…’

‘I know!’ Marcus looked apologetic. ‘You are quite out of charity with me because of my ungallant refusal to grant you Fairhaven! But now, Lady Allerton…’ he bent closer to her ‘…now you have the opportunity to persuade me! Will you take the challenge?’

Beth looked at him. There was a definite gleam of provocation in his eye. She frowned.

‘It seems to me, my lord, that you have the best of both worlds! You have nothing to lose whereas I may wear myself to a shred trying to convince you of my
attachment to Fairhaven and still have no influence over you!’

A wicked smile curved Marcus’s lips. ‘Believe me, Lady Allerton, you have made quite an impression on me already! I would put nothing outside your powers!’

Beth blushed and looked away. ‘Pray do not tease so, my lord.’

‘Must I not?’ Marcus offered her his arm and they started to walk back through the gallery. ‘It is difficult to resist. So, will you take my challenge?’

Beth paused. ‘I will drive with you. That would be most pleasant.’

‘Very proper. You are not always so proper, are you, Lady Allerton?’

‘However, I could withdraw my acceptance. Any more of your mockery, my lord—’ Beth looked at him severely ‘—and I shall do so!’

Marcus inclined his head. ‘Very well! We shall instigate a truce! You are a most determined person, Lady Allerton. It is quite unusual.’

‘Unusual, perhaps. Most certainly imprudent.’ Beth spoke wryly. She was thinking of Charlotte and her strictures on her conduct. ‘I think it comes from being an only child, my lord. I was much indulged and given my own way. It bred stubbornness in me, I fear. And then, my late husband…’

‘Yes?’ Marcus slanted a look down at her. Beth sensed that his interest had sharpened and she managed to stop her runaway disclosures just in time.

‘Well, he was very kind and indulgent too…generous to me…I was most fortunate.’

‘You must have been a child bride,’ Marcus observed lightly, after a moment. ‘After all, you are
scarce in your dotage now! How long have you been widowed, Lady Allerton?’

Beth turned her head so that the brim of her bonnet shielded her from his too-perceptive gaze. Something about this man made her feel vulnerable, as though he could read into her words all the things she did not say.

‘Sir Francis died two years ago. Yes, I was very young when I married. My parents had been killed in an accident and I…’ Her voice trailed away. She did not want to reveal how lonely she had felt, uncertain if she was making the right decision in marrying hastily. On the one side had been security and on the other…On the other, she had felt as though she was throwing away all her youth and future by marrying a man older than her father. Yet Frank had been a kind husband, as kind to her as to a favourite niece. All she had lacked was excitement.

‘I see,’ Marcus said, and Beth had the unnerving suspicion that he did indeed see a great deal.

‘My dears!’ Lady Fanshawe had watched them approach and now rose to her feet, wincing slightly. She greeted the Earl as though he was a family friend of long standing, which Beth found slightly unnerving. She watched with resignation as it took Marcus all of a minute to persuade Lady Fanshawe to his plan.

‘If you have offered to take Lady Allerton up with you I am all gratitude, my lord,’ Lady Fanshawe trilled, ‘for I am sorely in need of a rest! I was intending to call at Bond Street, but fear I do not have the energy! This picture-viewing is unconscionably tiring!’

They went out of the Academy, Marcus calling a hackney carriage to convey Lady Fanshawe home be
fore handing Beth up into his curricle. It was a fine, bright day for autumn and the pale sun was warm. It was pleasant to be driving slowly through the fresh air of the Park, although it seemed to Beth that they were obliged to stop every few yards to greet the Earl’s acquaintances. She knew few people in London, so had little to contribute to this social ritual, and after a while she had been introduced to so many new people that her head was spinning.

At last, when they reached a quieter stretch of road, Marcus turned to her with a rueful smile. ‘Forgive me. To drive at the fashionable hour precludes sensible conversation!’

‘You seem to have a vast number of friends in London, my lord,’ Beth said non-committally, thinking of the elegant ladies who had appraised her with curiosity-hard eyes and the sporting gentlemen who had looked her over as though she was a piece of horseflesh.

Marcus smiled. ‘I certainly know a lot of people, but as for friends—’ he shook his head ‘—I could count them on the fingers of one hand! But I almost forgot, Lady Allerton…’ His gloved hand covered Beth’s and her pulse jumped at the contact. ‘I cannot count you my friend, for we are sworn enemies, are we not? Will you tell me more about the feud?’

‘Oh, the feud…’ For a moment, gazing into those dark eyes, Beth was all at sea. She had forgotten all about it. Then she pulled herself together. This was the point of the whole exercise, after all. Somehow she had to persuade Marcus Trevithick of the importance of Fairhaven to her, and becoming distracted by his company was not going to help at all. She pulled her hand away and saw him smile at the gesture.

‘I believe that the feud between the Trevithicks and Mostyns dates back to the Civil War, my lord.’ Beth cleared her throat and tried to sound businesslike. ‘The Mostyns were on the side of the King and the Trevithicks were for Parliament. When Sir James Mostyn went into exile with Charles II, the Trevithicks took the chance to steal—I mean to seize—Mostyn land.’

‘Steal will do,’ Marcus said lazily. ‘I fear the Trevithicks always were thieves and scoundrels, Lady Allerton! But they prospered as a result!’

‘To profit by the misfortune of others is not honourable!’ Beth said hotly. ‘Even worse, at the Restoration, the Mostyns regained a little of their former estate, but the Trevithicks managed to persuade the King of their good faith and were not punished!’

‘I can see that you have a very strong sense of fair play, Lady Allerton!’ Marcus observed. ‘Sadly, the way the Trevithicks prospered is the way that fortunes are often made—through double-dealing!’

Beth looked severe. ‘That is no recommendation, my lord!’

‘No, I can see that my ancestry is doing me little service here. I sense that worse is to come as well. Pray continue!’

Beth glanced at him doubtfully. Although his tone contained its habitual teasing edge, he was looking quite absorbed. She shifted uncomfortably.

‘I hope that the tale does not bore you, my lord?’

‘Not in the least! I am all attention!’

Beth realised that this was true. Marcus had loosened his grip on the reins and the horses, very well-behaved thoroughbred bays, were trotting at a decorous pace along the path. All of Marcus’s attention
was focused on her and as soon as Beth realised it she became acutely aware of the warmth of his regard and the disturbingly intent expression in those dark eyes.

‘Well, yes…anyway…For a hundred years the Trevithicks prospered and Mostyns struggled, but they still held Fairhaven Island.’ Beth glared at Marcus, forgetting for a moment that he had not been personally responsible for wresting it from her grandfather. It was easy to fall back into the stories of her childhood, the enthralling tales of Trevithick treachery. ‘Then my grandfather inherited the estate and came up against your grandfather, my lord, the fifth Earl, George Trevithick.’

‘Ah, the Evil Earl. I have heard much of his exploits. They say that in his youth he was in league with the wreckers and the smugglers and the pirates and anyone who could help him make an illegal profit.’

‘I have no doubt. What is certainly true is that our grandfathers were implacable enemies, my lord, and had sworn to take their fight to the death. One stormy March night my grandfather was sailing for Fairhaven, not knowing that the Earl had already landed there and that the wreckers were waiting for him. There was a gale blowing and in the dark my grandfather did not realise that the shore lights were not placed there by his servants but were a trick of the enemy.’ Beth took a deep breath. ‘His ship ran aground and all hands were lost, along with the chest of treasure the ship had been carrying. My grandfather was the only one to escape ashore, but he was ambushed by the Evil Earl and cut down in the fight. Then the Earl stole his sword, the Sword of
Saintonge, that had been in the family for centuries, and took the island into the bargain! Now, what do you think of that, my lord?’

Beth finished, out of breath, and looked at Marcus expectantly. It was a tale for a dark, stormy night rather than a bright day in the park, and it was difficult to believe that either of them were the descendants of men who had struggled to the death for supremacy only fifty years before. That conflict had been ruthless and atavistic, belonging to a previous and less civilised time. Beth allowed herself to consider the man who sat beside her, looking every inch the sophisticated society gentleman. She wondered suddenly just how much of that image was a façade, for she already knew from her dealings with Marcus that if one scratched the surface there was something infinitely more ruthless beneath. As for herself—how far would she go to regain Fairhaven? The stubborn tenacity of the Mostyns was in her blood. Perhaps both of them were true to their ancestry after all.

Marcus encouraged the horses to pick a bit of speed, then turned to Beth with a smile. ‘What do I think of it? I cannot deny that it is a tale that reflects no credit on my grandfather. Yet I have some questions for you, Lady Allerton. What was Lord Mostyn doing sailing in such dangerous waters at night? Why did he have his treasure with him? Was there not something slightly suspicious about his own actions?’

Beth stared. In twenty years she had never questioned the detail of the story. She remembered Maddy, her nursemaid, telling her the tale at bedtimes, by the light of the candle in the nursery at Mostyn Hall. She had imagined the perfidious, flickering light of the wreckers’ lamp on the cliff, the
smashing of the ship’s timbers as it broke up on the rocks, the glint of gold as the family treasure tumbled into the depths of the sea…It had never occurred to her to wonder why her grandfather had been carrying so much money on his journey, nor what he had been doing sailing to Fairhaven on a stormy night. Until Marcus had spoken, she had not even thought of it.

Beth wrinkled up her nose, looking at him thoughtfully. ‘I must concede that it is odd…’

‘Indeed. One is tempted to go to Fairhaven to discover the truth of the whole story!’ Marcus flashed her a smile. ‘Would you accompany me, Lady Allerton, if I invited you to join me on Fairhaven Island?’