The Elusive Heiress (6 page)

‘Fudge! I won’t let you escape me so easily, my dear. Randal’s opinion has no bearing on the matter, although I cannot imagine why he should believe a word the Sullivans say. Gerald was a rogue as a young man and by all accounts his son is worse! Your information that they are heavily in debt does not surprise me in the least.’

Lady Edgeworth shook her head. ‘Randal’s motive for being so uncivil remains a mystery, but I pray you will not let any thought of a possible quarrel influence you. I’m sure your bad beginning will resolve itself, but even if it does not you needn’t fear censure from me.’

She reached out to take Kate’s hand in her own. ‘You are my goddaughter. Losing your company before we have had a chance to get to know one another would upset me far more than any quarrel with Redesmere could.’

Her conscience hurting, Kate forced herself to smile back. She was beginning to wish that she had never conceived this plan to help Kitty!

‘There!’ Alicia gave her hand a final pat and let it go. ‘I do not mean to embarrass you, my dear, but truly I cannot think of anything which would give me greater pleasure than to have you as my guest.’

‘I, too, should like that above all things.’ Kate’s unease was chased away by a sense of triumph. Let Randal Crawford chew on the news that she was accepted in Abbey Square! With any luck, he might choke on it!

* * * *

‘Shall I remove the covers, my lord?’ Blake enquired with a discreet cough.

‘What? Oh, yes. Thank you.’ Roused from his brown study, Randal Crawford sat back in his carved chair, pushing it away from the long oak dining table.

The butler bowed and waved the footman who accompanied him to begin clearing the table. Most of the dishes served for his lordship’s dinner were untouched. Even one of his favourites, a harrico of lamb cooked to tender perfection, hadn’t tempted his appetite.

Blake’s expression creased with concern. His lordship had made poor work of his breakfast too. It wasn’t like him. He didn’t look ill though. A mite troubled perhaps…

Blake brought a crystal decanter of port over to the table and, setting it down, cleared his throat in a preparatory fashion.

‘Light the candles before you go, there’s a good fellow.’

There was an implacable note of dismissal in that request! Deciding discretion was the better part, Blake took the hint. Whatever it was that was bothering him, his master plainly didn’t want to discuss it.

Speedily, Blake completed his tasks and, ushering his minion before him, quit the room.

Light spilled from the tall candelabrum which his butler had set on the table. Randal poured himself a glass of port and lifted it up to survey its deep colour before conveying it to his lips. Its taste was rich upon his tongue, but his mind wasn’t on wine.

How long had he sat here lost in thought? Dusk had crept unheeded into the room and he hadn’t even heard his butler enter. Randal frowned. Such careless inattention would have cost him his life once upon a time, aye and on more than one occasion that he could remember!

‘Blister it!’

He wasn’t in the army now, but still it irked him that he seemed to have lost control over his thoughts. His mind kept spinning off, returning endlessly to that strange encounter yesterday with the woman who had pretended to be his long-lost cousin Kitty.

Her dark beauty had touched off a chord of response in him, awakening desire and a memory which had never died. Once, years ago when he had been campaigning in Egypt, he had been offered a small painted alabaster figurine. The
fellah
selling it had sworn it was that of an ancient queen. Enchanted by the delicate perfection of the little statuette, Randal had bought it.

Later, it had been stolen from his lodgings, but every detail of its rare beauty remained clear in his mind. His unknown visitor had the same elegant swan-neck and the same long eyes as that ancient queen. They slanted above those marvellously sculpted cheekbones, as black as a Stygian night and as mysterious!

Who the devil was she?

Randal shrugged his shoulders impatiently. Her name scarcely mattered. She was an adventuress and a damned clever one. If he hadn’t had that letter from Gerald Sullivan he would have been taken in by her poise and confidence.

The thought rankled, but Randal strove to ignore it.

‘What will she do now?’

He spoke the words aloud, but found no answer in the quiet silence. Would she really dare approach his lawyers as she had threatened?

A reluctant grin touched his well-cut mouth. Unless he missed his guess, that little baggage had the nerve to try anything! And if she had the proof she claimed, their office must be her next port of call.

Draining his wine, Randal decided it behoved him to alert Messrs. Hilton, Tyler and Dibbs. It was time he paid a call on Godwin and he could look in on the lawyers and save them the journey out here.

He set down his empty glass and rose to his feet.

If the wench chose to persist in spite of his warning he supposed he would have to put an end to her game. An unsavoury public dispute over Nabob Nixon’s fortune would distress his sisters.

However, as he strolled from the room, Randal was aware of a vulgar hope that she wouldn’t give up so easily. He would enjoy the chance of another encounter with his dark enchantress!

Chapter Three

Kate was surprised to find herself the sole occupant of the breakfast parlour when she made her way to this smartly-furnished apartment shortly before ten on her first morning in Abbey Square.

‘Beg pardon, Miss Kitty, but there’s no need to wait on her ladyship,’ announced Thorpe, the elderly butler. ‘She always breakfasts in her room.’

Kate thanked him and he indicated the laden sideboard.

‘Can I help you to some of this gammon, Miss Kitty, or perhaps you’d prefer kippers? Should you fancy something cold, I can recommend the beef. Cook has a nice touch with roasting.’

Surveying the vast array of silver chafing dishes laid out in readiness Kate repressed a shudder.

Allowing him to shepherd her forward to inspect their contents, she chose a small slice of ham and a very modest helping of buttered eggs and sat down at the breakfast table. Thorpe then brought her a pot of coffee before withdrawing with a kindly admonition to ring for him the instant she required anything further.

Left to consume her breakfast in peace, Kate made a mental note to tell Alicia that she couldn’t face gargantuan feasts at this hour. Theatre life had destroyed her early morning appetite, but she didn’t want to hurt Thorpe’s feelings or Cook’s.

Apart from the fact she didn’t want to upset anyone, Kate was shrewd enough to realise it would be stupid to risk setting the servants against her. Gossip flew fast belowstairs and there was going to be talk enough. It was too much to hope for that her appearance in Chester would meet with universal approval, but things would be easier if Kitty was deemed to be a proper young lady.

Forking up the last mouthful of her unwanted eggs, Kate ruefully reflected on how the rest of the company would envy her current luxury. Their usual bed was to be found in cheap lodging houses or even in the wagons alongside their props and costumes. What’s more, they had often gone hungry when the takings were poor.

Kate laid down her knife and fork with a sudden clatter. Guilt was extremely bad for the digestion she was discovering!

It was all Redesmere’s fault. If he had been not been so disobliging, she need never have troubled Kitty’s godmother. Now, as a result of his stupid objections, she was forced to make shameful use of Alicia, who deserved better.

Kate squirmed in her seat remembering how Alicia had summoned Thorpe yesterday and ordered him to send George, the young footman, to the Hop-Pole to fetch her bags and settle her account.

‘You don’t wish to return to the inn, do you, my dear?’ she had added, turning to Kate who had quickly answered, ‘Only to pay my shot, ma’am.’

Alicia looked puzzled. ‘There is no need. George will take care of everything.’

‘I cannot allow you to foot my bills,’ Kate insisted, every instinct protesting that it was bad enough pulling the wool over Alicia’s eyes without letting her fund the deception.

‘Lud, child! We shall not argue over a few shillings, surely?’ Laughing, Lady Edgeworth had wagged a scolding finger at her.

Kate had continued to protest, but had been forced to drop her objections for fear of hurting Alicia’s feelings.

The incident had left a bad taste in Kate’s mouth and reinforced her desire to get the whole business over and done with. I shall go and see the lawyers today, she resolved.

She had meant to discuss her plans with Alicia last night, but her hostess had been engaged to dine with friends.

‘I think I should cry off,’ she’d fretted. ‘It seems so inhospitable leaving you to a solitary supper on your very first evening.’

‘Actually, I’m quite tired and would like to go to bed early,’ Kate had fibbed and, reassured, Alicia had allowed herself to be persuaded.

Kate had been glad of the chance to be on her own. Being plunged back into the kind of life she had once known was much more unsettling than she had anticipated. Alicia’s beautiful house was more luxurious than the small country manor on the shores of Lake Bassenwaite in which she had grown up, but it was still familiar territory.

She had forgotten how pleasant it was to have servants on hand to fetch and carry!

For an instant Kate allowed herself to imagine what her life might have been like if she hadn’t attended that fatal performance of
Romeo and Juliet
while visiting her grandmother in Carlisle.

It had been the first time she had ever been inside a theatre and she was thrilled by the performance, which in truth had been no more than average although she had been too inexperienced to realise it. When Francis had walked on stage and begun to speak in his caressing voice her heightened senses had reeled. With his long elegant legs displayed to advantage in tights and his romantically disarrayed black curls he had seemed the perfect hero.

Caught up in the magic of the night, Kate had immediately tumbled headlong into a deep infatuation, which she mistook for love.

Stop daydreaming, my girl, Kate admonished herself sharply, forcing herself back to the present. You can’t afford to get too used to being a young lady again. When this charade is over, it’s back to work for you!

Kitty had promised her £500 in return for her help. It would allow her to pay off the last of Francis’s creditors. The prospect of being clear of debt for the first time since her marriage was delightful, but the fee wasn’t enough to free her of the need to earn her living.

And what respectable household would employ her? Unless she lied about her past she would never obtain a genteel position.

You went through all these arguments three years ago when Francis died, she scolded herself. Nothing has changed today, except that you are feeling nostalgic!

In her mind Kate could hear the echo of Mary’s advice after Francis’s funeral when she had told her friend that she was thinking of leaving the company to go into service.

‘Why give up your friends and a profession you’ve learnt to enjoy to drudge in some kitchen? You’d probably earn even less than you do now and while it might be a more respectable way of life you would be still be a fish out of water. I think you would be lonely and, worse, you are too pretty to avoid trouble!’

Kate remembered how she had protested although in her heart she had suspected that Mary might be right.

‘Francis made you miserable, but now he’s gone things will be different,’ Mary had declared. ‘He wasted your talent and stopped you getting the roles you deserve, but I’ll wager that if you stay you’ll be the company’s leading lady within a year.’

Her friend’s prediction had come true. She’d become a successful and popular actress through sheer hard work and effort. She had even managed to forget Francis and learnt to be happy again. So why then did she suddenly feel so depressed?

Could it…could it possibly have something to do with that look of contempt on Randal Crawford’s handsome face as he had dismissed her?

Kate gave herself a little shake. She was being foolish beyond permission!

Fiend seize Crawford! He could think what he liked of her. She was no adventuress, although her youthful folly had put an end to her claim to respectability.

No amount of regret could change matters. Instead of dwelling on what might have been if her father had been more kind and her grandmother less self-centred, she ought to be concentrating on thinking of a way to discredit Kitty’s supposed drowning before his interfering lordship spread the news all round town!

Filled with a fresh determination to win Kitty’s fortune for her, Kate made her way to the morning room, where Alicia presently joined her.

‘Ah my dear! You are down already. I hope you slept well?’ Alicia greeted her with a smile.

‘My bed was wonderfully comfortable, thank you,’ Kate responded politely.

In point of fact, she hadn’t experienced a restful night. To her annoyance, a pair of vivid blue eyes had haunted her dreams.

Lady Edgeworth sat down and Kate asked her if she had enjoyed her dinner party.

After a full description of this event, Alicia continued, ‘I announced your arrival, my love, and everyone was desirous of an early introduction. Once word of your visit gets out I dare say we will have the whole town calling.’

Kate tried to look pleased.

‘In fact, Kitty, I thought I would make a list of all the people you ought to meet. It wouldn’t do to leave anyone out…now where did I put my writing tablets?’ Lady Edgeworth broke off her discourse, her expression distracted. ‘I was sure I left them in here.’ She peered short-sightedly around.

Kate spotted the little writing set on one of the side tables. ‘Is that the set you mean, ma’am?’

Alicia nodded and made a move to rise from her seat.

‘Allow me.’ Kate quickly jumped up to get them.

‘Thank you, child.’ Alicia accepted the set of tablets from her. ‘I see you have your Mama’s pretty manners. I did wonder whether living at such a remove from civilisation you might…’ Realising that her remark might be construed as criticism she hastily amended what she was going to say, ‘Well, it was doubtless very silly of me, but I did worry that you might speak with a…a coarse accent.’