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Authors: Beth Andrews

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BOOK: A Scandalous Secret
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He felt his aunt’s hand upon his shoulder and turned slightly to face her as he brought the horses to a halt before their door.

‘I don’t condone her behaviour, by any means,’ Aunt Winifred said slowly. ‘But you might have been wrong to think she was playing some kind of deep game.’

‘What can I do, Aunt?’ he asked, no longer certain about anything.

‘I believe you must somehow contrive to speak with the lady again - with a little more sense and a little less anger.’

 

Chapter 6

 

The party at Merrywood was not left alone for very long. The ladies had not yet exhausted their discussion of Mr Markham and his eccentric aunt, nor had Nicky repeated his plans for tomorrow more than once, when unmistakable sounds outside proclaimed yet another arrival.

‘Who on earth can that be?’ Dorinda exclaimed, instantly diverted. But the sudden wild dash of Achilles towards the hall, and the ensuing tones of a man’s low voice beyond the door, proclaimed the identity of this new addition to their circle.

‘It’s Uncle Alastair!’ Nicky cried.

He would have followed Achilles, but at that moment the gentleman himself entered the room. Both Dorinda and Nicky immediately launched themselves at him, each babbling their separate inanities at once.

‘Darling!’ Dorinda cried, embracing him fervently and kissing his cheek - a gesture which he returned with somewhat more restraint. ‘We have been positively languishing without you. It is so good to have you home again!’

Nicky, meanwhile, was clinging to Alastair’s knees and looking up at him, not heeding his aunt. ‘I caught a carp, Uncle!’ he announced grandly. ‘Are you going fishing with us? Selina is still sick and can’t come, but I know Dominick would want you there.’

Alastair contrived to extricate himself from Nicky’s grip and to greet his guests with as much dignity as possible in the circumstances.

‘Dominick?’ he asked, having caught at least the tail-end of his nephew’s speech.

‘Mr Markham, of course,’ his wife explained, leading him to the sofa and pulling him down beside her. ‘I fear he has quite eclipsed you in Nicky’s affections, my dear. You must be content to be only a
fallen
idol now.’

While Nicky hopped up beside his uncle and repeated the by now all-too-familiar tale of his adventure by the stream, Elizabeth studied her brother-in-law carefully. He was a big man: tall, large-boned, well-favoured without being an Adonis, with sandy hair and sleepy eyes which generally noticed little but were capable of rare moments of unexpected shrewdness. He was looking unusually weary, she considered, even for someone who had just come direct from London.

Alastair listened to Nicky’s excited narration, wisely refraining from enquiring into the outcome of his little escapade. Lord Maples was not so wise.

‘The poor countess was most distressed by your thoughtlessness, young man,’ he said with unnecessary sternness. ‘I hope that you have learned your lesson, but I fear the punishment was hardly adequate, considering the provocation.’

Dorinda frowned. ‘He is just a boy, after all,’ she responded, and Elizabeth could barely suppress a chuckle. Oswald’s sterling qualities were already beginning to tarnish as her sister grew daily more aware of his less amiable attributes.

‘So, Nicky, you are to go fishing with Mr Markham again tomorrow,’ Alastair remarked in his slow, deliberate way. ‘And how do you like that, Eliza?’

Elizabeth was disturbed, not so much by the question as by the curious look which accompanied it. ‘I ... well enough,’ she said guardedly, unsure of what lay behind the apparently harmless remark. ‘Mr Markham appears to be quite unexceptionable.’

‘Indeed, my love.’ Dorinda was eager to expand upon her theme. ‘He is truly a blessing: so entertaining and so good with the children. It cannot be long before he marries and starts his own family.’

‘Matchmaking again, Dorrie?’ her husband asked with a smile.

‘Not at all!’ she cried indignantly, but with a betraying tinge of colour. ‘How wicked of you to expose me so.’

Alastair patted her hand indulgently. ‘I am sure it is a most amusing pastime for married ladies.’

‘It must be,’ Elizabeth agreed. ‘So many of them seem to practise that particular art.’

‘Lord Maples,’ Dorinda appealed to her guest, ‘can you not support me against this confederacy?’

‘My dear Lady Barrowe,’ the gentleman obliged, ‘I can only say that I should deem it a privilege to be the object of so charming a matchmaker.’

This piece of shameless flummery immediately restored him to the good graces of his hostess. Nicky, however, was not interested in such grown-up nonsense.

‘But will you be going with us tomorrow, Uncle?’ he demanded.

Alastair graciously accepted the boy’s invitation to make up one of the party. He also invited Oswald to join them. The viscount could scarcely refuse, though Elizabeth suspected that his inclusion would give no pleasure either to himself or her son.

‘And what shall you ladies do in our absence?’ Oswald asked.

‘Mope,’ Dorinda declared with an air of tragic despair. ‘It will be terribly dull here without male company, will it not, Lizzy?’

‘I believe I can bear up tolerably well for a morning.’

Dorinda leaned over and rapped her on the knuckles. ‘You are the most provoking creature! You should have been an old maid like Mr Markham’s aunt. Oh, Alastair,’ she added, ‘did you know that she actually paid us a visit this very morning?’

‘I beg pardon,’ Alastair muttered, reddening. ‘I did not quite.... Who did you say was visiting?’

Dorinda immediately launched into an exhaustive - and exhausting - description of the recent visit. Elizabeth noticed, however, that Alastair’s attention seemed to wander, and several times he had to be called to task by his wife. This was not at all like him - especially where Dorinda was concerned. Just what had he been doing in London?

‘Indeed,’ Dorinda concluded her account, ‘I am surprised that you did not pass them as you rode up. They left not five minutes before.’

‘Well, I was coming from the London road, and so would not have seen them once they made the turn for Lammerton Hall.’

‘It is a great pity that you missed them,’ Dorinda said. ‘The old lady is such a quiz! It was all most entertaining, was it not, Lizzy?’

‘It was anything but dull,’ Elizabeth admitted.

For the rest of the day, she continued to observe Alastair. His absence of mind was quite pronounced, and there was a recurring furrow above his thick brows. He seemed to be in a perpetual brown study, often quite inattentive to poor Oswald, who tried manfully to hold up his end of the conversation. Dorinda’s bright, brittle chatter became increasingly strained when, after supper, they all sat down to endure each other’s company.

It had been a taxing day, to say the least. No one was inclined to be witty or amusing, and Elizabeth was glad when she could at last fall into her bed and into a deep, dreamless sleep.

* * * *

Arriving at Merrywood the following morning, Dominick was pleased as well as surprised to learn that Alastair had returned and was to accompany them.

‘I am glad to see that you have taken my nephew in hand, Dominick,’ Alastair commented, as the quartet set off to find the best available stream.

‘Believe me, Alastair, it is a pleasure. I will make a
Compleat Angler
of him yet.’

‘We are best friends already, aren’t we, Dominick?’ The boy took hold of the gentleman’s hand as he spoke and looked up at him with a smile of the utmost confidence.

Dominick, in turn, looked down at his son with a sudden surge of pride and pleasure, which he hoped was not too apparent. ‘I certainly hope so, milord,’ he teased.

‘In my opinion, the child is far too young and inexperienced to be accompanying us on such an expedition,’ Lord Maples said sourly.

Dominick had not admired Lord Maples before, and his estimation of him declined steadily with every moment spent in his presence.

‘After today,’ he said, ‘Nicky’s inexperience will be that much less. It will do him a great deal of good; and he is not a babe, after all.’

This speech won a nod of approval from Alastair and from Nicky a look of admiration such as he had never bestowed upon the unfortunate viscount.

The day, however, was not the resounding success which they had anticipated. Mr Markham landed a good-sized trout, and helped Nicholas to catch one somewhat smaller. But it was plain to Dominick that neither of the other two gentlemen was able to enter into the sport with genuine enthusiasm.

Lord Maples had evidently accepted the invitation partly out of sheer ennui and as an occasion to display his good breeding.

Otherwise, he was an indifferent angler, although full of fish stories which might have put Jonah to the blush. As for Alastair, who generally enjoyed angling, he did not seem particularly interested in the day’s outcome. It was plain that he was much troubled about something, and Dominick wished that his friendship had been secure enough to have challenged him as to the cause. But he would not risk a rebuff by seeming to be encroaching.

It was a rather subdued party, therefore, that eventually returned to Merrywood. Dominick said his farewells at the door, explaining that he must go home and tend to his accounts; and Nicky, accompanied by Alastair, ran off to display his catch to his mama. Much to Dominick’s surprise, Oswald lingered behind the others and approached him as soon as they were gone inside.

‘A word with you, sir,’ the viscount said, punctilious to a fault.

Dominick inclined his head ever so slightly in polite assent. What did this court card possibly want with him, he wondered? He would have thought that they had little enough in common, and the gentleman had more than once taken the opportunity to display his perceived superiority over the master of Lammerton Hall.

‘I trust,’ Oswald began with just a shade too much diffidence, ‘that you did not mistake my remark this morning concerning the young earl.’ He paused, as though expecting some response; but, as Dominick remained silent from sheer perplexity as to the import of this statement, he was forced to continue, ‘I have a very personal interest in the lad’s future, since we will very soon be ... ah ... related.’

Dominick stiffened. Every muscle in his body tensed like a tuned violin string. ‘I’m afraid that I do not quite take your meaning, sir,’ he replied at last, though he was very much afraid that he did.

‘Elizabeth - that is, Lady Dansmere - and I have a ... how should I put it ... an
understanding
of sorts.’

‘Indeed.’ It was all that Dominick could do to force that single word from between clenched teeth. So this was the preening, fat-headed popinjay the woman had chosen as a suitable husband for herself and a father for
his
son. By God, if he could lay hands on her now...! ‘Then it seems,’ he said, with tolerable command over his voice and manner, ‘that I must offer you my felicitations.’

‘Of course,’ the other hastened to assure him, ‘we have made no official announcement as yet.’ He smiled in a self-deprecating way. ‘We both want to give the boy a little time to grow accustomed to the idea of having a stepfather. I am sure that I may rely upon your discretion in regard to this matter.’

‘Certainly, Lord Maples,’ Dominick said. ‘I understand perfectly. Now, if you will excuse me.’ He bowed briefly and turned to mount his horse.

In a very few minutes, he was half-way down the drive. His last words to the viscount had been somewhat less than truthful. He did not understand at all. He was unable to comprehend what Bess - Elizabeth - could possibly see in that man, beyond his face. Or was that enough for her?

He was even more puzzled by Oswald’s curious behaviour. There had been absolutely no need to acquaint Dominick Markham with the facts concerning his secret betrothal. What could he mean by it? Unless ... unless it was all
her
doing. Had the countess herself put him up to it? If so, why? A warning of some kind, perhaps? She had threatened to remove Nicky from his influence. Was this the means she intended to employ? A drastic measure, surely; or perhaps she had planned to marry Oswald all along?

So much for his aunt’s belief that she might have cared for him. Could such a cold, cunning creature have feelings for anyone? He could not be certain. Her affection for her son seemed genuine enough. But she certainly showed herself to be a poor judge of men.

He recalled how nearly he had come to kissing her only yesterday. Even in his rage, holding her so close had affected him profoundly. No doubt she had trifled with enough men to know just how to drive them to distraction. But she would find that Dominick Markham was not so easy to control. He was damned if he would let this latest challenge go unanswered. If he could not wound her, he could at least demonstrate indifference, false though it might be. But how?

Of course! He would fight fire with fire. Yes, that was it.

* * * *

While the men were out fishing, the ladies of Merrywood had not been entirely idle. Closeted in Dorinda’s chamber, they engaged in a weighty discussion of their own.

‘It is a woman. It must be,’ Dorinda said, looking down at the hands clasped tightly in her lap. She had never been so downcast, so despondent in her life. And in whom could she confide, if not her own sister?

‘I do not believe it.’ Elizabeth spoke with conviction. ‘Alastair admires women as he does horses. Indeed, I rather believe that he has a greater interest in the latter.’

At any other time, Dorinda would have smiled at this and responded in kind. Now she could only frown and shake her head. ‘I wish that I could be as certain. But he has changed so much in these past months, Lizzy.’

‘Have you discussed the matter with him?’

‘Heaven knows I have tried.’ Dorinda raised her hands in a gesture of desperate resignation. ‘But all he will do is tell me not to worry my head about it.’

‘Then I suggest that you heed his advice.’

‘Easy enough for
you
to say.’ She sniffed. How could Elizabeth ever comprehend her miserable uncertainty? Her sister’s marriage had not been a love-match, and she probably would have been grateful had Gerald developed an interest in some other woman and left her to herself.

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