Amanda Scott (24 page)

Tuckman growled, “I see nothin’ o’ the sort, me lord. Young Caldecourt b’ain’t no nobleman, after all, ’n me daughter’s good enow fer better nor the likes o’ ’im. But ’e’s the one she wants, odd as it may seem ter any man o’ sense. If’n ye dispute the matter, per’aps ye’d care t’ dispute it wi’ me outside. The man ruint me daughter, ruint ’er chances fer a decent match, ’n ’e’s b’God gonna do right by ’er.”

The earl stood his ground, meeting the angry man’s gaze directly and without a jot of fear. “Mr. Tuckman, there is no cause for your distress. I can promise you that a decent match will be made for your daughter. Mr. Caldecourt admits his fault, so the very least we can do is to help you set things right. You know who I am. You know my reputation. Do you for one moment think I would make a promise I did not mean to keep?”

The innkeeper halted, glaring. “Ye’ve not been much about these past years, m’lord, if ye’ll pardon the liberty o’ me sayin’ so. Yer reputation b’ain’t so fine as ye seem t’ think, b’God. How ’m I ter know whether yer still a man o’ yer word or no?”

Abberley flushed. “You’ve an undebatable point there, Mr. Tuckman, but my word is good and I’ve given it before witnesses. Suppose we go downstairs, and let these ladies get to bed as they must be yearning to do. We’ll discuss the matter calmly, and I will do my possible to convince you that nothing will be done that you do not approve.” He turned purposefully toward the door, clearly expecting the other to follow. Over his shoulder he said, “Caldecourt, you coming?”

“I won’t let you buy him off, Abberley,” Jordan said again.

“Jordan!” Lady Annis pulled herself upright. “You just do as Lord Abberley thinks best. You’ll only make a mull of it if you don’t.”

“Dash it, man,” Kingsted told him, “she’s right about that. You listen to Abberley. Handled any number of irate fathers, he has.”

“No one doubts that,” said Lady Celeste dryly.

The earl looked back over his shoulder, his lips pressed together firmly, and Margaret expected him to issue a blistering order to Kingsted to hold his prating tongue. Instead Abberley’s gaze shifted to her, and his look was a speculative one. When she grinned saucily at him, he seemed to relax, responding with a rueful smile.

Jordan had remained silent during this interplay, but he had made no move to follow Abberley. Now, as the earl turned once more toward the door, he said abruptly, “I won’t let you buy him off, and I won’t let you find someone else for Mandy. I want her for myself!”

His mother gave a weak cry of dismay and clutched at her vinaigrette. The others simply stared at Jordan. Abberley was the first to find his voice.

“What did you say?”

“I said I want Mandy.”

“Ye’ve got ’er,” said the innkeeper promptly, holding out his hand. “I knew ye’d see the right of it, sir. Me girl wouldna throw ’er ’eart after scum.”

“Jordan, you mustn’t,” Lady Annis wailed. “You can’t.”

Kingsted scratched his head. “Dash it all, I thought this whole business came about because he already had.”

Pamela shook her head at him, but there was laughter in her eyes when she looked down again at the hands folded neatly in her lap.

“Mr. Tuckman,” said the earl with a sigh, “I don’t think you understand Caldecourt. He merely said he doesn’t want someone else to have your daughter. He never said he wanted to marry her, and while I admit the attitude is a detestably selfish one—”

“It’s not, I do want to marry her!” shouted Jordan.

Staring at her son in disbelief, Lady Annis slumped against the sofa cushions again, sniffing desperately at her vinaigrette. Even Lady Celeste was taken aback. Only Mr. Tuckman seemed at all pleased by Jordan’s burst of temper.

Abberley threw out his hands. “Caldecourt, for the love of heaven, show some sense. I can appreciate the fact that you feel some responsibility for this girl, but you cannot have thought at all sensibly about the matter. You cannot wed the girl.”

“I can do as I like,” muttered Jordan stubbornly.

“Nonsense, boy,” Lady Celeste told him, “such a match is entirely unsuitable. The girl will tell you so herself, and so would her father if he weren’t so taken by the notion of marrying his daughter into the gentry. And so you are, my man, and you needn’t deny it,” she snapped, turning her guns on Tuckman. “For all that folderol about Mr. Caldecourt not figuring among the nobility, you still cannot deny that he is several cuts above your precious daughter. Have you stopped to consider how miserable she will be among his friends, or are you too enamored of the idea of having such as him for a son-in-law? If you truly think that is a goal for which one ought to strive, may heaven help you. He’s more like to hang upon your sleeve than to enhance your family tree.”

Dismayed silence followed this piece of plain speaking, even Mr. Tuckman not daring to cross swords with her ladyship. He shifted his feet and twisted his apron between his hands and looked everywhere in the room but at Lady Celeste.

Lady Annis continued to moan upon the sofa, and Pamela Maitland had not dared to look up from her lap. Only Kingsted frankly enjoyed himself, surveying the others as though he were sitting first row, center, at Drury Lane Theater. Margaret’s eyes met Abberley’s briefly, but the glint of amusement she encountered there was nearly her undoing. Quickly, she imitated Miss Maitland, looking for perhaps the first time in her life the picture of demure young womanhood.

At last Jordan drew in a long breath and straightened his shoulders. Margaret thought for a moment that he meant to tell Abberley he would submit to whatever course the earl thought best. Instead, the young man turned to face Lady Celeste.

“Ma’am, everything you’ve said is true. I have done little in my lifetime to make anyone think well of me. I have been a hanger-on, content to let my mother or anyone else call the tune. Following the crowd has always been easier than doing anything off my own bat, for until I met Mandy, I had no reason to consider anyone but myself or to strive for anything beyond the mediocre. Even after I met her, and knowing how I felt about her, I thought of some of the things you have just said, but I lumped them all together into one large excuse for seducing her. Her father is perfectly right in saying that I wronged her. I did. But there is one thing he cannot know, for I’ve never even told Mandy. I love her.”

“Unnatural boy!” cried Lady Annis, collapsing again.

As though nothing out of the ordinary had occurred, Jordan turned from Lady Celeste to face the earl. “Please believe me, sir. If a way can be found to effect a marriage between us that will not make Mandy miserable for the rest of her life, I mean to marry her at once.”

E
VERYONE, EVEN KINGSTED, STARED
speechlessly at Jordan, for no one in that room had ever before seen the young man so thoroughly in command of himself. Margaret thought she had never liked him as well as at that moment.

Lady Celeste broke the spell. “It cannot be done,” she said grimly. “Whatever one may think about the rights and wrongs of classing people according to their standing in life, that’s how the world goes about its business. Like unto like and Nan unto Nicholas—anything else brings unhappiness to both. You may put the right gowns on your Mandy, young man, but you’ll not make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear, and that’s a fact. Her speech alone would make her unacceptable to polite company and therefore render you both acutely uncomfortable. She would shame you among your friends and you’d feel out of place among hers.”

“Then we must live where no one knows us.”

“You would each still be recognized for what you are,” said Abberley gently.

“Not necessarily,” Margaret said. She had been watching Jordan carefully. “Are you sure of your Mandy?” she asked. “Have you even known her very long?”

“Since we arrived in Hertfordshire,” he replied gruffly. “I’m sure.”

“But you’ve flirted constantly, and with anything in skirts,” she protested.

He shrugged, glancing obliquely at Lady Annis. “Only so that Mother wouldn’t realize I’d got serious about one girl. I knew she’d kick up no end of a riot and rumpus, because she was after me to make a dead set at you, but I knew that wouldn’t answer.”

“Then you truly mean to marry Mandy?”

Several voices raised in protest, but Jordan, recognizing a possible ally, ignored them. “I do.” he said firmly, “if it can be arranged so that she won’t regret it later.”

“Well, I believe there is at least one place you could go where she might not do so,” Margaret said slowly.

“Where? We’ll go at once.”

“The colonies … that is, America,” she said. “Now that things are peaceful there again, I should think it might provide the answer for you. We have been told—have we not, Aunt Celeste?—that people there care much less than we do here for the rigidities of the social structure.”

Lady Celeste nodded, albeit doubtfully.

Jordan’s eyes had lit the moment Margaret mentioned America, but now his face fell again. “I’d go in a minute,” he said, “if Mandy agreed, but the devil’s in it that I don’t have enough money for passage. Heaven knows Mother won’t help me.”

The only response from Lady Annis was a low moan, which was ignored by everyone. Abberley had been listening thoughtfully, however, and now he said, “I would be willing to make you a loan, Caldecourt. I know you would not care for me to pay your fare outright, but perhaps we can come to terms that will not bankrupt you. I would certainly be willing to discuss it further, once you have had a chance to talk with Miss Tuckman.”

“B’ain’t no need fer talkin’,” the innkeeper said with a chuckle. “That lass’d foller ’im anywheres. Not but what I’m so certain I takes kindly ter the notion, meself. Goin’ all the way ter Americky, where she don’t be knowin’ a soul and don’t know what ter be expectin’. There be savages in Americky, b’ain’t there?”

“There are also any number of civilized towns, Tuckman,” Abberley said with a smile. “Your daughter needn’t end up in the backwoods. We can discuss the whole tomorrow, if you are willing. Caldecourt and I will ride in to Royston during the afternoon if that will be convenient. He can discuss the matter first with your daughter, and then among us we can make a suitable plan.”

“Abberley, how can you?” wailed Lady Annis. “My only son—encouraging him to travel thousands of miles from his nearest and dearest, across a dangerous sea, to live like a heathen. It is too much, my lord, and so I tell you.”

“We will discuss your position in all this after Mr. Tuckman has gone, ma’am,” Abberley said ominously, silencing her. “Are you satisfied, Mr. Tuckman?”

The innkeeper declared that he was quite satisfied, thank you, and soon took his departure, rubbing his hands together and murmuring to himself joyfully.

Kingsted watched him go, then shook his head. “A happy man. Who’d have thought we’d see such a sight tonight? I daresay it all goes to show that miracles are not so uncommon as one has consistently thought them to be.”

“The miracle,” Abberley told him, narrowing his eyes menacingly, “will be if you get to see the light of day, dear fellow.”

“Indeed, yes,” agreed Miss Maitland. “You have passed the line of being pleasing more than once tonight, my lord, and so I do not scruple to tell you.”

“Do you not, ma’am?” inquired Kingsted with interest. “Then, perhaps you have more to say to me?”

“Indeed, sir …” She blushed. “Oh, you are abominable and deserve that someone should read you a severe scold, but of course it is not my place to do any such thing, so I shall say no more, sir. You must hold me excused if I have already said more than I ought.”

“Nonsense,” returned his lordship bracingly. “I am intensely interested in anything you have to say, ma’am. Indeed, I make so bold as to suggest that since the hour grows late and since your reverend father has no doubt returned from his dinner and has already begun to fret about your whereabouts, ’tis my duty to see you safely restored to his care. You may say whatever you like to me on the way. I shall need your carriage, Abberley.”

“Oh, will you?” demanded the earl, diverted. “And how am I expected to get home, if you please?”

“Oh, ’tis a simple matter. I shall be pleased to swing past the manor on my way back to the hall—unless I forget,” he added innocently.

“Never mind.” The earl chuckled. “I daresay I can borrow a horse from the stable here. Heaven knows how long I’d have to wait for you.”

“That’s the dandy,” approved Kingsted. He rose to his feet and held out his hand to Pamela. “Come along, Miss Maitland.”

She had been staring at him as though she thought he was out of his senses, but at this high-handed gesture, she gathered her forces and, with a martial light in her eye and a tightening of her soft lips, took his hand and allowed him to lead her from the room. The earl and Jordan escorted Mr. Tuckman to the stableyard some few moments later, Moffatt moving quickly in their wake, and Margaret was left alone with Lady Celeste and a weeping Lady Annis.

Margaret exchanged a look with her grandaunt. “What now, ma’am?”

Lady Celeste shrugged, picking up her knitting but showing no indication that she meant to retire for the night in the immediate future. “I daresay Abberley will have more to say when he returns. He didn’t say good night, you know, and he would not be so unmannerly as to take his departure without doing so.”

These words caused Lady Annis to moan again, but she forced herself to an upright position on the sofa and, clapping a hand to her breast, announced that she must, simply must be got to bed. “Where is Wilson?” she demanded. “Surely, someone has rung for her. Does no one care what I have suffered tonight?”

“Piffle,” retorted Lady Celeste. “No more than your just deserts, if you ask me.”

“Oh, you don’t understand,” the younger woman said, her voice rising into a whine that set Margaret’s teeth on edge. “Nothing has gone the way it should. Nothing. My poor boy, throwing himself away on a common innkeeper’s daughter, when he should by rights be Sir Jordan Caldecourt.”

“By what rights, ma’am?” Margaret asked in a dangerous tone. “Jordan has no right to the title unless Timothy dies. Is that why you tried to murder him or to have him murdered?”