A Christmas Courtship (22 page)

‘And an apology of an apology it was, too,’ replied Sir Antony tersely. ‘Do it adequately, man, before I become irritated.’

Antony’s eyes widened, and he looked quickly at Blanche. ‘I beg you to forgive me, Miss Amberley, for I know that I’ve behaved very shabbily, not only to you but to the Jenningses. I’m truly sorry, and I wish with all my heart that I had never failed you.’

The carriage had swayed to a standstill, and Sir Edmund glanced out. ‘Ah, we’re just where I thought we’d be,’ he said with some satisfaction, opening the door and climbing down.

Blanche looked out, and saw that they’d emerged from the city walls and were near a large duck pond that had been frozen over until the ice had been deliberately broken for the benefit of the many ducks that congregated in its vicinity. The bitterly cold water glinted in the sunlight, and jagged fragments of ice swayed almost seductively on the surface.

Antony looked out, too, and renewed alarm crept into his eyes as Sir Edmund gave him a bland smile. ‘Do get out, sir, for your little journey is at an end.’

Reluctantly, Antony did as he was told, climbing slowly down to stand in the snow by the roadside. Sir Edmund followed him, gazing across the pond as if admiring the view. ‘By the way,’ he
said conversationally, ‘if you should happen to see Neville at all today, you had better not utter a word of any of this, do I make myself crystal clear?’

‘Yes, Sir Edmund.’

‘Apropos of your part in the gleeful spreading of the so-called Amberley scandal….’

Antony jumped as if stung. ‘I didn’t spread it at all!’ he protested.

‘No? Come now, don’t be coy, for I fear I overheard you a few minutes ago relating the whole story with vindictive enjoyment, and that foolish chit in blue was absorbing every word, thinking you such a swell.’

Antony’s mouth clamped closed, for he hadn’t realized he’d been heard.

Sir Edmund glanced around the pond. ‘This is an eminently suitable place,’ he observed conversationally.

‘Suitable? For what?’

‘For this!’ Sir Edmund whirled about, striking him a hard blow to the chin. It was a carefully calculated upper cut that sent Antony staggering backwards into the pond, where his boots crunched through the fringe of ice that had until then remained intact. The water was deep enough to come over his boots, and he stood there, too stunned to do anything but stare and rub his chin.

Sir Edmund turned contemptuously away from him, climbing back into the carriage and sitting next to Blanche.

‘You-you didn’t have to do that,’ she said, her voice shaking a little as the carriage drove on.

‘It was well worth the effort, for if ever anyone deserved it, he did,’ he replied, leaning his head back and closing his eyes for a moment.

Blanche looked at him with swift alarm, for there were beads of perspiration on his forehead, and his face had gone a little gray. She put her hand quickly over his. ‘Sir Edmund…?’

‘It’s all right, Blanche, it will pass in a moment.’

‘You shouldn’t have done something like that, least of all on account of a toad like Antony Mortimer! Your wounds….’

‘Grow less tiresome every day,’ he interrupted quietly, smiling at her.

‘But by doing something as strenuous as that, you could have set your recovery back!’

‘It would take much more than that to set me back, Blanche,’ he said softly, putting a hand to her chin and tilting her face a little. His lips brushed hers in a kiss so tender and fleeting that she barely felt the touch, but she was very conscious of the caress, so conscious that her whole being flared into complete awareness of him.

But then he released her, turning away to hold the carriage blind aside. ‘We’ll soon be at Amberley St Mary,’ he murmured, as if nothing had happened.

Confusion tumbled wildly through her, and she didn’t know what to say or do. But then came cold common sense. She had to take her cue from him, and behave as if nothing had happened, for that was the way he wished it to be. The kiss had been a gesture, no more than that, and even though she wished she could read so much more into it, she knew that she would be foolish to do so.

By seven o’clock that evening, all interested parties had gathered in readiness at Amberley Court. Colonel Cummings and his men had ridden from Cheltenham, and Jonathan and Deborah had driven from Eastington House. The soldiers waited in the kitchens, where they were served refreshment while they waited for the orders to disperse to their various positions, but everyone else waited in the grand chamber.

The minutes passed so slowly that the suspense became unbearable, and at last Blanche could endure it no more. She rose to her feet, drawing her shawl more closely around her arms and shoulders.

‘Forgive me, Sir Edmund, but I can’t just sit here. Would you mind very much if I walked in the gallery?’

‘The gallery? Why of course, if that is your wish, but if Neville should arrive….’

‘I will keep well out of sight,’ she replied, gathering her gray woolen skirts and hurrying out. Her light shoes tapped on the hall’s tiled floor as she made her way quickly toward the
staircase
, pausing for the briefest of moments to look at the portrait of Queen Elizabeth and the Amberley pendant. Then she hurried on up to the floor above, where the great gallery stretched away along the western wing of the house, unlit and shadowy in the winter darkness.

In the past, the gallery had been used for strolling when the weather was inclement, but now it was simply a place of display, where the paintings, sculptures, and fine porcelain that graced Amberley Court could be gazed upon and admired. Cabinets lined the walls, and dark green velvet curtains were
drawn across the tall windows.

The cold didn’t seem to touch her as she walked slowly along the gallery’s full length, and then turned to walk back again. The atmosphere of the house folded over her, carrying her back to happier times, when she and Jonathan had chased each other where she walked now. They had never dreamed then that Amberley Court would fall out of their hands and belong to another, everything had seemed so simple; one day Jonathan would marry and raise children of his own in the house where his family had lived for centuries, and she, Blanche, would marry as well, and have to leave, but the house would still be in the family, there for her to visit whenever she chose.

She paused by a window, stepping behind the drawn curtain to stand in the embrasure, looking across the park toward the river, which swept toward the sea, a dark snake curving through the snowy, moonlit countryside.

The light of a carriage lamp pierced the darkness from the drive, arcing across the snow as the vehicle drove toward the house. Her heartbeats quickened, for it must be Roderick Neville. Slipping from the embrasure, she ran along the gallery, past the head of the staircase to a window that overlooked the front of the house. From there she could see the carriage approaching. She pressed close to the glass, her hands shielding her eyes from the candlelight that reached up out of the great hall below, and suddenly she saw the carriage quite clearly. It was a gleaming black vehicle drawn by a team of blood bays. Her breath caught on a gasp of dismay, for it was Athena’s carriage.

Gathering her skirts again, she fled back to the staircase to warn the others, but Sir Edmund was at that moment mounting the staircase toward her. He halted as she appeared.

‘Blanche? What is it? Is he here?’

‘It’s Lady Hetherington’s carriage, Sir Edmund!’

‘Athena?’ He turned, looking toward the main door, where the sound of the carriage could now be heard.

Evans emerged a little concernedly from the direction of the kitchens, and saw Sir Edmund on the staircase. ‘Sir, I believe it’s her ladyship!’

‘Yes, Evans. Show her in.’

‘Very well, sir.’ The butler walked to the door and went out into the night, where the carriage was drawing up at the porch.

Sir Edmund looked urgently up at Blanche. ‘Keep back out of sight until I know why she has come.’

‘But….’

‘Do as I say!’

Flinching a little at the vehemence of his order, she drew back up the staircase, melting back into the shadows by the gallery, but not so far back that she couldn’t see what took place in the hall below.

Evans came back inside. ‘I will inform Sir Edmund of your arrival, my lady,’ he was saying, obviously uncertain how to deal with the situation.

Athena followed him in. She wore a hooded white fur cloak that must have cost a fortune, and she flung the hood back as she saw Sir Edmund by the foot of the staircase. Diamonds glittered in her short dark chestnut hair and trembled from her ears, and there was a hint of rouge on her cheeks, giving her a flushed, animated look that enhanced her already breathtaking beauty.

‘Good evening, Edmund,’ she said softly, untying the strings of the cloak and allowing it to slither to the floor. Beneath it she wore a clinging white silk gown that was so sheer and delicate that it outlined every curve of her figure. The neckline dipped low over her full bosom, and the tiny sleeves left the clear pale skin of her arms exposed before they vanished into long, elegant white gloves. A spangled reticule was looped over one wrist, together with a fan that she now snapped open.

‘Have you nothing to say to me, Edmund?’ she asked, as Evans closed the door, gathered the cloak from the floor and then fled from a scene he found very awkward and
embarrassing
.

Sir Edmund walked slowly toward her. ‘Why have you come back, Athena?’

‘Because I thought better of my departure. It was foolish and immature, and I regret it now.’

‘Indeed?’

‘I thought that if the dinner party was still to take place, then
I would join it, as we had planned.’

‘The dinner party is not to take place, Athena, as you know well enough.’

A light passed through her lovely green eyes. ‘I thought we merely spoke in the heat of the moment last night,’ she murmured, stepping closer to him.

‘It’s finished, Athena, can’t you accept that? Your actions brought it all to an end, and I am not prepared to forget your duplicity.’

‘I’ve been a fool, Edmund, I fully accept that, but it’s all in the past now, and I want to try again. I promise it will be different this time.’

‘What’s happened, Athena? Has he gone back to London?’

She drew back a little, the diamonds in her hair flashing in the light from the chandeliers. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

‘No? Athena, I left you in London and came here alone because I wasn’t prepared to share you with the Earl of Mordene, and because I wasn’t prepared to go on encountering his unfortunate wife, who suspected nothing of his philandering with you. It was your wish that we try again, and so we did, but your interest in Mordene has continued, has it not? He followed you here to Gloucestershire and took rooms at the New Inn, where you went to him yesterday afternoon.’

‘That isn’t true!’ cried Athena, spots of high color staining her cheeks.

‘Isn’t it? Athena, you returned here very late last night, after claiming to have spent all that time with your brother….’

‘I did, I swear I did!’

‘Roderick was on duty yesterday afternoon; indeed, he came here to Amberley St Mary to carry out another search of Orchard Cottage. Where were you, Athena?’

‘I met people I knew and took dinner with them at the odious Saracen’s Head,’ she replied, her fan moving busily to and fro. She turned away, her gown soft against her magnificent figure. ‘Check with that fool of a landlord if you don’t believe me.’

‘And where were you today?’

‘I went to see Roderick again, if you must know, to tell him you’d unjustly ended our betrothal and that there was not to be
a dinner party tonight, but he wasn’t there. He has the whole of today to himself, and no one knew where he’d gone.’

‘And then?’

‘Edmund, you begin to sound like a court-martial. I’m not one of your soldiers, you know,’ she countered, turning so that the gown clung still more.

Blanche gazed secretly down, her lips parting at the
immodesty
of the gown, which revealed only too clearly that the darling of London society wore very little, if anything, beneath. But the gown was of little real importance, for what Athena, Lady Hetherington, had to say was much more interesting than what she wore.

Sir Edmund’s attention was fully upon Athena. ‘You haven’t answered my question. What did you do after you left the barracks?’

‘I went to see Johnny and Phyllis Worthington at Winchcombe,’ she said smoothly. ‘Do you remember them? Johnny gambled his fortune away at White’s and they both had to retire to the wilds of the countryside.’ She smiled, coming to him. ‘Enough of this, my darling, for what does it matter where I went today? All that matters is that I’m here now, and I know we can still be happy together. Let me prove it to you, tonight….’ She linked her slender arms around his neck and reached up to kiss him passionately on the lips.

Slowly he put his hands up to disengage her. ‘No, Athena, for you no longer mean anything to me. You didn’t go to Winchcombe today, you went to the New Inn and Mordene!’

‘No!’

‘Damn it, I saw your carriage there! I
know
Mordene took rooms there, Athena, I made it my business to find out!’

Her green eyes were ablaze with anger and humiliation. ‘
You-you
’ve been
spying
on me?’ she cried, her hand raised to strike him.

He caught her wrist. ‘Call it spying if you wish, madam, but I prefer to call it belated common sense. You’d make a very poor wife, Athena, for I’d never know whose bed you were gracing when you weren’t in mine!’

‘How dare you!’ she breathed, her face pale except for the
rouge she’d applied earlier.

Evans suddenly hurried into the hall again. ‘Sir Edmund, there’s a light vehicle approaching; I’m certain it’s the curricle you anticipate!’ The butler chose his words as tactfully as he could, because of Athena.

Sir Edmund nodded. ‘Take Lady Hetherington to the grand chamber, if you please, and inform Colonel Cummings that I’ve gone to deploy his men.’

‘Yes, Sir Edmund,’ replied Evans, looking at Athena. ‘If you will come this way, my lady…?’

She remained where he was, her green eyes suddenly sharp and shrewd. ‘I’m not going anywhere until I know what this is about. What’s going on, Edmund? Colonel Cummings is…’ She paused. ‘Is it Amberley? Is that it? Have you laid some sort of trap for him?’

Before he could respond, Evans spoke urgently to him. ‘The lieutenant’s curricle was approaching quickly, sir.’

Athena looked sharply at Sir Edmund. ‘Amberley doesn’t have a curricle,’ she said slowly, then her breath caught. ‘Roderick? Is it Roderick?’

Sir Edmund turned to the butler. ‘Stay here with her
ladyship
,’ he ordered, then he strode away toward the grand
chamber
to warn Colonel Cummings and Jonathan that their quarry was approaching.

It didn’t occur to him that Evans would do anything but obey instructions, but in the heat of the moment the butler felt he’d be better employed alerting the soldiers in the kitchens, and he dashed away. For the space of a heartbeat Athena was
undecided
, but then she fled toward the door, struggling to wrench it open.

Blanche hurried down the staircase to stop her, but it was too late, for Athena succeeded in opening it, and ran out into the night screaming a warning to her brother. ‘Roderick! Go back, it’s a trap!’

Sir Edmund was already running across the hall, dashing out after her, followed by Colonel Cummings, Jonathan, and the soldiers, who streamed noisily from the kitchens as they saw the officers running from the house.

Deborah hurried to join Blanche, and together they emerged from the porch, watching the lamps of the curricle as it still approached the house. Athena ran through the snow, her white gown almost invisible against it, and Sir Edmund, closely followed by Jonathan and Colonel Cummings and the soldiers pursued her, hoping against hope that she wouldn’t succeed in warning her brother.

But suddenly Roderick saw her, and began to sharply rein in his team of two. The horses strove to come to a standstill, going down almost on their haunches.

‘Go back, Roderick! It’s a trap!’ screamed Athena, stumbling a little with the effort of running through snow in her light evening slippers. Her warning reached him this time, and from the porch Blanche saw how he half-rose on the curricle seat as he saw the men in uniform running toward him.

He was galvanized into action, sitting down again and
flinging
his horses forward, but to turn he had to leave the relatively clear drive and strike through the deep, untrodden snow on the park itself, and the team had to put in a huge effort to complete the turn.

Sir Edmund was almost upon him, reaching out to try to snatch the bridle of the nearest horse. Roderick swung his whip, lashing at the tall figure in red, and to avoid being struck across the face, Sir Edmund had to fling himself to one side. The horses plunged in fear as the whip cracked, and they swerved,
thrusting
heavily against Sir Edmund, and knocking him bodily to the ground, where he lay motionless.

The curricle drove wildly on, sweeping wide in a circle and then back onto the drive again, where the crack of the whip swiftly brought the terrified team up to a reckless pace. The lamps moved away into the night as Roderick drove his horses to the utmost in order to escape capture.