A Wager for Love (11 page)

“What, without telling her family?”

“Of course not.” The Earl smiled thinly, “I am no blue-beard, child, I content myself with carrying off one female at a time. However, unless I am mistaken we may confidently expect a visit from the girl’s grandfather before tomorrow is out. And now, Countess, perhaps a turn in the garden before retiring.”

She could not quite conceal her start of surprise. Correctly divining her thoughts, the Earl waited. “You find it strange that I should wish to walk with my new bride? I am quite human I assure you, Madam, so please desist from watching me as if I were some strange animal.”

“I fear you will have to excuse me, My Lord, I have no inclination for the garden.”

“Or my company,” finished the Earl softly.

Lavinia merely shrugged, turning at the door to drop her husband a small curtsey. “Goodnight, My Lord.”

Whilst the Earl and his family were partaking of breakfast in apparent good spirits, a strange and assorted party were converging on the coffee lounge of the Green Man Inn.

Lord Ware, who had deemed it advisable in view of the possibly delicate nature of his visit to his friend, to drive himself, drew his horses to a halt outside the Inn. “Well, Charles, we are only a few miles from Marlham now. I think a little refreshment is called for.”

Charles was all compliance. “Yes indeed, Ware. very true. I would not care to face Saltaire on an empty stomach. Awkward fellow is Saltaire. There’s no knowing how he might take at seeing us. He might welcome us with open arms. On the other hand, he might throw us out neck and crop.”

Restraining a smile, Lord Ware followed his brother into the coffee lounge. “Well, he can hardly welcome being interrupted on his honeymoon. However, as young Richard is already there …”

“If he ain’t dead,” broke in Charles gloomily.

An hour later an ample repast was placed in front of them by mine host, a shrewd man who recognised Quality when he saw it, and who had spent the last hour chivvying his wife and her maids into producing a meal which, although he said it himself, was fit for a Duke no less. Certainly, Lord Ware and his brother found nothing to cavil at in the fare set before them.

Charles, helping himself to a large wedge of pigeon pie, stopped, knife poised, as an irate voice reached him. “Ho there, landlord, where is the fellow?”

Lord Ware turned in his chair, looking towards the open doorway from whence came the irascible voice. The landlord, who had been despatched to bring another bottle of wine, arrived at that moment puffing a little.

“Be with you in a moment, Sir Gervase,” he called to the newcomer.

“Damn me, man, I want you now. Now, do you hear?” roared the other, erupting into the coffee lounge in the landlord’s wake. “I want to know the meaning of this …”

Charles, quite forgetting the pigeon pie, watched entranced as the man waved a piece of paper in the air. Lord Ware, delicately applying his napkin to his mouth, viewed the intruder with surprise. He was a man of some sixty years, his face mottled a rich purple with temper, and his heavy old fashioned wig a trifle askew.

The landlord, hastily depositing the wine on the table with an apologetic glance at his two guests, advanced to meet Sir Gervase. “What can I do for you, Sir Gervase?”

“Do? Do! I`ll tell you what you can do,” roared Sir Gervase in an even more shattering voice, completely oblivious to his audience, “You can tell me how it comes about that one of your ostlers delivered this note to me this morning. My granddaughter has run off with some penniless adventurer. Calls himself Lord Arnedale. He can only have met her here. Now come, my man, tell me the whole.”

Upon hearing Richard’s name, Lord Ware and his brother exchanged looks. Ware got to his feet pushing the chair away. “Perhaps I can help you, Sir.”

Sir Gervase stopped in mid-flow and looked up testily. “Help me, Sirrah. How, if you please? Some young rip comes in here and makes off with my granddaughter. Says he is taking her to his sister or some such farradiddle!” The old man snorted. “Taking her to some lovenest, no doubt. I warned the silly chit.”

“You mistake the matter, I’m sure.” Ware’s voice was quiet and his manner calm, but there was no mistaking the authority of his person. “I can assure you that Lord Arnedale is a most honourable young man. If he says he is taking your granddaughter to his sister, then you can be sure, that is what he means to do.”

Rolling a choleric eye in Ware’s direction, the old man sat down heavily in the nearest chair, fanning himself with a hat of ancient vintage. “You know this young sprig then do you, Sirrah? How do know that it is not you yourself who has run off with my Kitty then?”

Patiently, Ware beckoned the innkeeper over. “Perhaps you would explain to this gentleman that my brother and I have only been here for the past hour or so.”

Willingly, the innkeeper launched into his tale. Sir Gervase sat back, plainly overcome. “Well, it is passing strange. First comes this young man, out of nowhere, carries off my Kitty to his sister, if you please. And then you arrive, two complete strangers, but apparently friends of this young man’s.”

“Not really so strange,” broke in Ware cheerfully. “Lord Arnedale`s sister is married to the Earl of Saltaire. Arnedale is but paying them a visit. We, too, are friends of Saltaire`s and are also paying him a visit.” Ware smiled kindly. “You see, a simple explanation.”

Far from soothing his ruffled feelings. this information had the effect of turning the old man`s f-ace an even deeper hue. “You sit there and tell me that my granddaughter, my only chick and child, has been taken to the house of that, that libertine?” he spluttered. “Damn, Sirrah,” he roared afresh. “You make mock of me. If` my child is in truth in that house, she is lost to me forever.” Grabbing his hat, and cramming it onto his head, he rose and made for the door.

“Where are you going?” enquired Ware, perturbed.

“I am going to see the Earl and get the truth from him, if I have to use my whip to do so. Aye, and you are coming with me. All the world knows the Earl has no wife. Nor would any decent female take him. You’ll not gammon me with your fine London airs, even though you might my poor Kitty,” he added darkly. “Come October she’ll be married to my friend and that is the end of it. Now, Sirs, will you come with me willingly or do I have to take you at pistol point?” Suiting the words to action, he produced from a capacious pocket of his greatcoat an enormous horse pistol.

Suppressing a sigh and aware of the gathering crowd of interested spectators, Ware motioned to his brother to follow the old man. “I take it you will allow us to follow you in our carriage, Sir. I give you my word, we shall not try to escape. “This was no more than the truth. Ware would not have missed the coming interview for the world.

Grudgingly Sir Gervase acquiesced. “Aye, though I doubt much that the word of a gentleman means anything to the likes of you. Consorting with libertines, and despoiling innocent girls.” Grumbling the man swung himself into the saddle of a stout cob, and motioned to Lord Ware to follow him.

Easing the collar of his cravat, Charles turned to his brother. “Lord, Ware, what on earth has Richard been up to? A pretty pickle he is in and so are we.”

“Let us wait until we reach Marlham,” counselled his brother. “If indeed he has taken the girl there to his sister, then no doubt all will be revealed to us.”

“Lord,” said Charles, a sudden diverting thought striking him, “I’ll have given a monkey to see Saltaire`s face when Richard showed up with the young Miss in tow.”

Breakfast over, Lavinia informed the Earl that she and Kitty were going to take a ride over the grounds. The purpose of this exercise was twofold. Firstly, so that she might discover a little more about Miss Kitty, and secondly, it would take her away from her husband’s unwelcome presence.

Long before the riding party had returned to the house. Lord Ware and Charles had erupted into the hall, despite the strenuous efforts of the butler.

Saltaire entered the room and surveyed the visitors through his quizzing glass, before allowing it to fall to his side. He then spoke in a soft murmur. “So, Ware, and er, Charles, is it not? I trust you do not intend to subject me to any University tricks, Charles.”

Relieved at this evidence of good humour, Charles hastened to assure him that nothing was further from his thoughts.

“Ah, good, you relieve me excessively.”

As Lord Ware moved forward to greet him, the Earl had for the first time an unobstructed view of Sir Gervase. “Mon dieu, Sir,” he exclaimed piously, shuddering a little. “l cannot… no really, `tis too much… That wig … It is a positive offence to mine eyes.”

Sir Gervase, striding forward, came to an abrupt stop. “My wig, sirrah, what is wrong with it? Damn fine wig this, cost me all often guineas twenty years ago. this wig did.”

“You amaze me, Sir, truly you amaze me,” responded the Earl languidly, swinging his quizzing glass on its black velvet ribbon. He himself was dressed casually in boots, buff small clothes, and a riding jacket, but his cravat had been tied by the hands of an expert, and the lace ruffles at his wrists cascaded lovingly over his hands. As always his dark hair was unpowdered, sleek as a raven’s wing in the daylight. “Really, Ware, it is too much, this person-who is he?”

Sir Gervase, looking as if he were about to have an apoplexy on the spot, burst out, “I’ll tell you who I am, sirrah. I am the grandfather of that delicate child that your brother-in-law has abducted. That is always supposing he is your brother-in-law and you do indeed have a wife.”

“Ah.” A small smile curved the Earl’s lips. “I owe you an apology, Sir. I have obviously made a mistake. From the young lady’s behaviour I had supposed her to be some farmer’s daughter. or some such thing.”

“Impertinence…” stuttered the old man. “I’ll have you know …”

“Ah, Sir Gervase. I presume. Pray introduce me, my love.”

All eyes swivelled to the door to behold the figure entering the room. Lavinia. dressed in an afternoon gown of lemon silk, plain and unadorned, entered the room, her hand extended towards her husband.

“Ah, my love, how charming,” murmured the Earl. His eyes narrowed slightly. “Forgive me, I thought you were out riding.”

“We saw you had visitors and thus returned.”

Indeed they had, Kitty, catching the unmistakable figure of her grandfather on his favourite mount, had hurriedly favoured Lavinia with a desperate plea not to be handed over to this worthy, or condemned to a loveless and dull marriage. It could hardly be supposed that Lavinia`s heart could fail to go out to her, especially in view other own situation. Kitty would not be sacrificed she had promised, her mind on the Earl’s plans to take her to London. But still they must return to the house, and face her grandfather.

She advanced towards Sir Gervase now, a pretty smile on her face, “Now, Sir Gervase, you must tell me all about this naughty granddaughter of yours. What a dance she must lead you! A charming child, but a little flighty. She needs a firm hand.”

Taken aback, the old man tottered to a seat, his blusterings forgotten. No-one could mistake Lavinia for anything other than a lady. Gravely he bowed over her hand. “Your servant, Madam, you must forgive me …”

“But of course.” Lavinia`s voice was light. “I have already reprimanded my brother, you may be sure of that. He should have escorted Kitty back to her own home straightaway.” Her kind words were like a balm to poor Sir Gervase, after the stinging barbs of the Earl.

“You are right, I fear, I am an old man, and Kitty is a pretty minx, but wayward, very wayward. I had thought if she were married …” His voice trailed away pathetically.

The Earl surveyed the company sardonically. “Well, Sir Gervase, put your mind at rest. I think I may have the very solution. Miss Kitty`s escapade is bound to come to other ears, her suitor may even cry off.” He shrugged whilst Sir Gervase nodded dumbly. He was all too aware of this possibility. The girl had very little money, and there were few eligible suitors in their neighbourhood.

The Earl continued. “I have commitments that command my presence in London. It will be lonely there for My Lady. If Miss Kitty were to accompany us no doubt my wife will act as chaperone for her.” His eyes gleamed as they rested on Lavinia`s face and she struggled to control her feelings. She had not the slightest desire to chaperone Kitty, for one thing she was far too flighty.

Ware looked down at the floor worriedly. Never say Saltaire was taken with this chit and intended to carry out a seduction under his wife’s very eyes?

For a few moments Sir Gervase struggled with duty and inclination, and finally inclination won. The girl was a handful and no mistake. He thought longingly ofhis fireside and his port. The Countess was a lady; his Kitty would be safe in her hands, and then perhaps the chit would stop pestering him to give her a season. A season! All modern misses thought about was iaunting around and enjoying themselves.

“So, it is decided then,” announced the Earl. “Lavinia, no doubt Sir Gervase will wish to see his granddaughter. Ware, a word with you if you please, and, Charles, I fancy you will find Richard in the stables.”

As he led his friend from the hall, he asked blandly. “By the way, do tell me, what brought you down here? Surely you could have waited to congratulate us on our nuptials, or perhaps I am wrong, perhaps it was some misguided attempt to shield Richard from his folly, that brought you hot-foot down here?”

Ware looked round unhappily as this barb found its mark. “He was threatening to kill you, Gilles.”

“So. How thoughtful of you, Ware. You were concerned about my health.”

Exasperated Ware broke in, “Don’t be ridiculous, Gilles, I was concerned about the boy. He swore the girl had been forced into the marriage. He was talking very wildly according to Charles.”

“I see I shall have to have words with Master Richard. I trust that this, er, wild talk you mentioned was confined to a small circle? I want no hint of scandal attached to this marriage.”

“And the girl?” queried Ware.

The Earl shrugged. “I scarcely think you will appreciate the jest, my friend, but I shall tell you it nonetheless. She believes, erroneously of course, that her brother lost heavily to me at cards.”