The Fugitive Heiress (12 page)

T
HE WEEKEND PASSED PEACEFULLY
, but Monday morning, charmingly attired in a green-and-white-striped muslin frock, Catheryn entered the breakfast parlor to find Dambroke alone, scowling at a letter on the table beside the remains of a hearty breakfast. Morris deftly began to remove the dishes while Paulson seated Catheryn.

“Good morning, my lord.” Receiving a curt reply, she calmly began to butter toast and presently to apply herself to an excellent breakfast. She glanced at the earl several times while she ate but made no further attempt to engage him in conversation. He was drinking coffee and seemed to be concentrating upon some knotty mental problem. At last, however, he sighed, looked up, and caught her eye. A tiny smile quivered at the corner of his mouth.

“Wondering if I shall bite?”

She smiled. “No, sir. My grandfather was always in crotchets at breakfast, too. I promise I don’t regard it.”

The black eyebrows rose. “In crotchets! My dear girl, that is a limp description of my feelings. I’ve just had my plans for the day as well as my normal good temper—don’t you dare laugh—destroyed by this devilish letter!” He smacked the article in question.

“I shan’t laugh,” she assured him, “but may I ask what has occurred? I shall understand if you don’t want to tell me.”

“I can’t say that I particularly wish to discuss it, but you will know the whole soon enough, so I may as well tell you now. You have heard us speak of Edward, of course.”

“Certainly. Your younger brother, Teddy.” She had indeed heard much talk of “that young limb of Satan,” as Mrs. Paulson, the housekeeper, called him. “He is at Eton, is he not?”

Dambroke grimaced. “I’ve been asked to rectify that.”

“Rectify? You mean you must remove him? But why?”

“According to this letter from Dr. Keate, the headmaster, they can no longer accommodate him. He cites unacceptable behavior, inattention to lessons … in short, the boy is being expelled, and they request his immediate removal. I shall have to drive down today.” He looked at his watch. “As a matter of fact, I must leave very shortly.”

“But what has he done? Surely, they have dealt with recalcitrance successfully in the past. Even I have heard of Dr. Keate, and Teddy is only ten, after all.”

“Nothing seems to do the trick,” Dambroke said heavily. “You see, this is not the first time there’s been trouble. I’ve made spur-of-the-moment trips down there before—once when he ran away to avoid a flogging and another time when I simply thought I might make my feelings clearer in person than in a letter. But now, Keate leaves me no choice. He must come home.” Since the look in his eye boded no good for the hapless Teddy, Catheryn took courage in hand.

“I think a drive to Windsor would be delightful,” she said brightly. “It’s a glorious day, and I had no plans of importance. If you are in a hurry, I’ll just collect my pelisse and meet you in the hall.”

“Catheryn, you are not going with me!”

She cocked her head, blond curls flashing golden in an errant ray of sunlight. “Did not your nanny teach you, sir, never to contradict a lady?”

He sputtered. “It would not be conduct becoming a
lady
to travel out of the city with only my escort, miss!”

“How thoughtful, my lord,” she retorted sweetly. “Lady Tiffany will be glad of the diversion. I’ll tell her to make haste, and we can all have luncheon in Windsor.” She arose and headed for the door. The anticipated explosion came before she reached it.

“This is not a pleasure jaunt, Miss Westering! I am going to collect my brother from a school which doesn’t want him, and it will
not
be amusing. It will be damned unpleasant, certainly for Edward. He will not want you! Besides, I shall take my curricle,” he added lamely. “There won’t be room.”

Catheryn had stood facing the door during this tirade. Without moving, she spoke one word. “Nonsense.”

“What did you say!”

She turned, twinkling and unruffled, to find him on his feet and glaring at her across the table. “I said ‘nonsense,’ my lord,” she replied equably, despite the storm warnings. “It is nonsense, you know—and don’t contradict me again. You can’t have thought. Your curricle? Surely, Teddy will have a trunk and other gear. You must take the carriage. And furthermore,” she continued roughshod over his feeble attempts to interrupt, “furthermore, sir, even you would not condemn a freshly whipped child—for you do intend, do you not, that he shall be whipped, even though you’ve not heard his side of the matter—well, even so, you’d not condemn him to ride here from Eton in a bouncing, jolting curricle or in a well-sprung carriage, for that matter. You’ll have to wait till you get him home, which will make it uncomfortable for both of you. You need Tiffany and me!” she finished triumphantly.

“I have no intention of making such a journey in a closed carriage with two witless females and a bothersome brat!” he declared, descending to nursery levels.

Catheryn fostered the illusion by agreeing kindly, “Of course not, my lord. You shall ride Chieftain. Much more pleasant for you, and Tiffany and I shall be quite comfortable in the carriage.” At that, she whisked herself out the door, closing it upon a muttered epithet to the circumambient air—something to do with meddlesome females.

Fortunately, she had no trouble with Tiffany, who was delighted by the prospect of an impromptu outing; and, though she would not have been amazed to find that he had gone without them, the carriage was at the door when they stepped outside, and Chieftain stood quietly beside it. Without comment, the earl handed them up, mounted his horse, and they were off.

The journey was rapid, and by half past eleven they had arrived at the famous boys’ school. Dambroke dismounted and strode to the carriage. “You may await us here,” he said brusquely. “We shan’t be long.”

But, to Catheryn’s relief, Tiffany took matters into her own hands. “Don’t be silly, Richard.” She pushed the door open, compelling him to take her hand and help her alight. Miss Westering followed. “Catheryn and I discussed it on the way,” Tiffany added. “You cannot just explode all over poor Teddy and then take us to luncheon. We promise not to interfere, but you will keep your temper better if we come with you.” Certain that Dambroke would be unwilling to engage in what amounted to a public argument, Catheryn applauded Tiffany’s tactics. The earl had no choice. They entered the main building and were soon shown to the headmaster’s study.

Dr. John Keate had been headmaster at Eton for not quite three years and was already known as a “famous flogger.” It was said that, in a single afternoon, he had flogged all one hundred members of the lower fifth form for missing roll call on a holiday, so Catheryn understood why Teddy might have run away to escape a beating. She had imagined Keate as a sort of Goliath and was, therefore, a bit taken aback by the red-headed little man who rose to greet them from behind a massive desk. He was only five feet tall. Not that he was not powerful, for he was—like a bull—and he looked ferocious enough, with enormous shaggy red eyebrows standing out in angry tufts; but his eyes twinkled as he held a hamlike hand out to the earl. “Good morning, my lord.”

“Dr. Keate.” Dambroke nodded as he shook the outstretched hand. He indicated the ladies. “My sister, Lady Tiffany, and our cousin, Miss Westering.”

Keate bowed from the waist with a surprisingly courtly air. “A pleasure, my lady, Miss Westering. Won’t you be seated?” He pulled a bell rope, and Dambroke sat down in a wing chair near the desk. Tiffany and Catheryn took matching Kent armchairs nearer the door, as a boy of fourteen or fifteen entered. “Some refreshment, Pickens,” ordered Keate, “and send someone to the Long Chamber to notify young Dambroke his brother is here.” The boy jerked a bow and hastened from the room. Ignoring the earl’s conspicuous impatience, Keate chatted desultorily about the unpredictable spring weather and other such harmless matters until Pickens returned with tea for the ladies and Madeira for the gentlemen. When the door closed behind him again, the headmaster settled back and peered at Dambroke. “I know you are anxious to get to the point, my lord.”

“Indeed.” Dambroke spoke quietly, but his expression was grim. Catheryn sighed. Clearly, the ride had blown away none of his ill humor. This would not be at all pleasant.

Dr. Keate hesitated, evidently expecting the earl to continue, then glanced at Catheryn. She was certain his eyes still twinkled. What an extraordinary man, she thought, smiling at him. Tiffany, made uneasy by the seeming levity, shot an apprehensive look at her brother; but if he was aware of anything other than his own desire to have the matter over and done with, Catheryn could see no sign of it. Keate set down his glass and pressed his fingers together.

“I cannot recall, my lord, that I have ever before been worsted by a ten-year-old.” He frowned, shaking his shaggy red head, and Catheryn suddenly doubted that he had been worsted by anyone. He spread fat fingers in an impatient gesture. “In a nutshell, my lord, the boy is incorrigible. I lose track of the times he’s been flogged.” Catheryn closed her eyes, flinching. “He’s been reprimanded, isolated, even sent to Coventry.”

She opened her eyes again. “What! I mean … well, I beg your pardon….” Encountering an ominous scowl from his lordship, she continued defiantly, “Well, why should they send him there, of all places?”

Dambroke’s face relaxed almost to a smile, and Dr. Keate allowed himself a dry chuckle. “I have confused you, Miss Westering; The term derives from the punishment supposedly visited upon Peeping Tom by the citizens of Coventry after Lady Godiva’s famous or, if you prefer, infamous ride there. They never spoke to him again after he alone defied the decision to allow her to ride unobserved. Here at Eton it means that the offender wears a yellow armband, and the other boys are not allowed to speak to him.”

“I see. How horrid!”

“Don’t hold with it myself. Prefer a good flogging!” Keate turned back to the earl. “The last time there was trouble—he picked a fist fight with a lad smaller than himself—I thrashed him myself and threatened to expel him if there were further such incidents. That was last week. Friday afternoon, he had another fight with the same lad. Left me no choice, my lord.”

Dambroke frowned deeply. “Has he been beaten?”

The headmaster shook his head. “Thought you might wish that privilege reserved for yourself. He’s been restricted to the Long Chamber on bread and water pending your arrival.” The steady gaze had not moved from the earl, but now it flickered to the riding crop in his lap. Catheryn, who had been watching both men, believed Keate would like to have said more but that he was finding the earl unresponsive. There was nothing to be read in Dambroke’s noble visage but irritation, anger, and perhaps embarrassment. She shifted her gaze back to the headmaster, willing him to look at her. In the silence that followed his last words, he began toying with his wine glass. Finally, lifting it to drink, he caught her puzzled look. When he set the glass down, he pulled the bell. The same boy answered. “Is young Dambroke here yet?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Send him in, please.”

The earl sat grimly regarding the carpet, his long legs stretched out before him, but Catheryn and Tiffany both turned to watch the culprit’s entrance. The study door had been left ajar, and a moment later the Honorable Edward Dambroke entered, shutting it gently behind him.

He was a sturdy child with light brown, tousled hair and a roses-and-cream complexion. Bits of white shirttail pouched out on either side under his short blue jacket, and both stockings below his breeches were twisted—one, in fact, looked in imminent peril of collapse. Catheryn hid a smile. This small person who had disrupted the halls of Eton and the earl’s day resembled nothing so much as a scruffy cherub.

Teddy looked quickly around the study. His vivid blue gaze flitted across Catheryn and Tiffany and came to rest upon his brother. Catheryn, watching closely, was amazed to see a spark of triumph in the boy’s eyes. A grin actually flickered across his face before he recollected himself and let his gaze slide to the carpet. Triumph changed to contrition so rapidly that she realized neither Tiffany nor Dambroke, who had swung his scowl toward the boy, had observed the former expression. She turned to find Keate’s eyes peering at her from under those outrageous brows. When she quietly lowered her reticule to the floor by her chair, one eyebrow rose and fell almost as though it waved approval. Keate turned to Teddy.

“Well, Edward.” His tone was grave, the twinkle gone. “Are you quite ready to leave us?”

“Yes, Dr. Keate.” The boy spoke to the carpet.

“Look up when you speak, sir!” snapped Dambroke.

“Yes, sir.” Teddy drew himself up, squaring his shoulders. His lower lip trembled, but he moistened it and looked steadily at Keate. “My gear is in the carriage, sir.”

The headmaster stood, smiling faintly. “Fine, Edward. I’m sorry we didn’t deal better together.” He looked at the earl, who still sat at his ease. “I think perhaps your brother would like a private word with you before you leave.” Teddy seemed to stiffen even more.

“No!” Belatedly, Catheryn remembered her promise not to interfere, but Dambroke stood up, raising his hand.

“Enough, Cousin.” He turned to the headmaster with suave civility. “There is no need to take up more of your time, sir. Edward and I will discuss this further in London.” He nodded. “Thank you for your trouble. I’m sorry he was such a bother. Come, Edward. Ladies.”

Catheryn waited until they had nearly reached the carriage before making distracted noises about having left her reticule behind. Ignoring the earl’s annoyed offer to send the footman and Tiffany’s offer to accompany her, she hurried back to find Keate waiting for her. “Please be brief, sir. His lordship already thinks me meddlesome enough.”

He smiled. “He won’t appreciate advice from either of us at the moment, so I must leave matters to your judgment, Miss Westering. You seem perceptive. Saw it at once. In point of fact, I believe that young rattle contrived this whole affair. He outmaneuvered me, set me up. I threatened to expel him, thinking to end the nonsense. Instead, he cornered me into keeping my word.”