Melinda Hammond (17 page)

Eustacia put up her chin. ‘That is no concern of mine, I assure you.’

‘Strange, then, that this cousin should bear such a striking resemblance to yourself — the red hair and green eyes. Very remarkable, and well remembered by the landlords at these hostelries. And I know from my enquiries, Miss Marchant, that Vivyan Lagallan
has
no cousin matching that description! A fine tale to take to Miss Pensford.’

Miss Marchant frowned.

‘What do you want?’

‘Just a little of what is due to me, a place in society. You know that Lagallan and I were travelling-companions a few years ago. Neither of us had a penny to scratch with, yet here he is now, the darling of the
ton,
courted wherever he goes — what harm would it have done him to introduce me to his world? But no, he refused me, and yet he has taken that boy Alleyne under his wing, introduced him to his clubs - it should be me,
me
receiving such favours, not that pup!’ he broke off, his face working as he considered the injustice of his situation, then he said in a calmer tone, ‘But you don’t want to hear me ranting in this way.’

‘No, sir, I do not. All I know is that your dangerous lies could be very injurious to - to people whom I hold in affection. I would like to avoid that.’

‘Good, that’s very sensible of you, Miss Marchant. I knew we would deal together.’ He reached out to touch her arm, but she snatched it away as if she had been burned.

‘So, what is it you want — money? I have little enough of that, I assure you.’

‘Money, well, that would be welcome, but - no, more than that.’ MacCauley paused. ‘I want an entrée to Society.’

She laughed at him.

‘But how can I help you there? I might be able to persuade my godmother to introduce you to one or two of her friends, but—’

‘Oh no, my dear, that would not do at all. No, I have thought it all out. I want you to marry me.’

Chapter Thirteen

Eustacia stopped in her tracks and turned to stare at Nathan MacCauley, then she threw back her head and laughed. The gentleman regarded her patiently, his own good humour unimpaired.

‘Mock me all you want, my dear, but consider: if I take this story to Rupert Alleyne, do you think he will marry you, once he knows that you were traipsing all over the country dressed as a boy, the mistress of Vivyan Lagallan?’

Her eyes flashing with rage, Eustacia brought her hand up and struck him once, hard across the face. MacCauley flinched, but his sneering smile did not falter.

That is not true!’ she exclaimed.

‘No?’ he purred. ‘Once I have told my tale, there are enough clues, enough little details that I know to make Society question, and then doubt. Even if Mr Alleyne is besotted with you, do you think his father would allow the wedding to go ahead? Much better that he thinks you have changed your mind, than that he should ever know the truth, eh?’ He paused to allow his words to sink in. ‘And then we come to Miss Pensford. A very genteel girl, I understand, from a family that abhors scandal. Such a deal of unpleasantness, and with your assistance we could avoid it all. Come, Miss Marchant — Eustacia! We have grown to know each other quite well, have we not? You may not love me now, but I am a considerate man, and you will not find me ungenerous. Once I am established, I am even prepared to let you go your own way, as long as you are discreet.’

Miss Marchant dragged her scattered wits together, trying to think rationally. She said scornfully: ‘If,
if I
were to give up Mr Alleyne and marry you, I should very likely be cut off without a penny, without a friend. After all, you have not always been respectable, have you?’

His smile did not reassure her.

‘Perhaps not, but you would find it difficult to prove, my dear. The only evidence that could have harmed me was in the letters you so kindly retrieved for me.’ His smile deepened unpleasantly as Stacey paled. ‘Oh, I know, you wish now that you had kept them, do you not? But you may be sure that I destroyed those letters before I left The Golden Cockerel. My past is now as clear as, shall we say, Vivyan Lagallan’s.’

‘I have no doubt that your family will be angry at first, but I watched you driving out with your grandfather, and walking here, in this very garden. It is clear he dotes on you. I have no doubt you could persuade him to make the best of it. After all, I am not ineligible, you know. I have my property in Dorset. Mayhap my wealth is not as great as Mr Alleyne’s, but Sir Jasper would no more want this story published than Lagallan, would he?’

‘You would not tell him!’

‘Well, my dear, that very much depends upon yourself. If you wish, you may give him to understand that you mistook your heart. I don’t think the old man would wish you to be miserable.’

They had arrived back at the gateway, and Snuffles was now trotting up to Eustacia, expecting the usual titbit. Miss Marchant bent to clip the leash on to the dog’s collar. ‘I — I need time to consider.’

Mr MacCauley shrugged, and thought of his creditors, whose letters and bills were filling several drawers of his desk.

‘I will give you until next Saturday.’

‘But that is barely a week!’

‘That should be long enough for you to decide, and for me to obtain a special licence. I know you have attained your majority, so there’ll be no need for a flight to the border!’ He grinned at her. ‘I will expect you here on Saturday morning, with an answer.’

Then, with a flourishing bow, he lounged away, whistling.

* * * *

Feeling physically sick, Eustacia hurried back to Lady Bilderston’s house and locked herself in her room. Considering the situation, she realized she was much more angry than afraid. If she had been carrying a pistol, she thought she would have shot Nathan MacCauley there and then, with very little remorse. This pleasant vision occupied her thoughts for a few moments, but then she turned her mind to find a more practical way out of her difficulties. None occurred. Her first impulse was to turn to Vivyan, but he had taken Caroline and the children to Worthing. Besides, she was not sure that he
could
help her: if he challenged Nathan MacCauley to a duel, it was certain that MacCauley would make sure the story was known beforehand, and then the damage would be even worse! She considered confessing everything to Rupert, but he would be so horrified she quaked at the very thought of his reaction. No, she thought miserably, she must find a solution for herself.

* * * *

She was no further forward when Wednesday arrived, and she prepared for Lady Bilderston’s party with a feeling of impending doom. She knew she was looking wan, and pinched her cheeks until they were stinging, but to no avail. Lady Bilderston attributed her god-daughter’s lack of spirits to too many late nights.

‘I have been so diverted by your visit that I have failed to make sure you had sufficient rest. And now you have brought that — that young person into the house, causing mayhem—’

‘Oh, dear,’ exclaimed Eustacia. ‘Is Nan very troublesome?’

‘Well, no,’ conceded my lady. ‘In fact, Cook says she is a good girl, and very handy about the kitchen, but you know what I mean! I cannot keep her here, my love, and heaven knows I cannot think of anyone of my acquaintance who would take her, in her condition!’

‘Oh, Godmama, how tiresome of me to foist her on to you! But you must not trouble yourself about Nan, for I am determined to find a suitable placement for her and Tom.’ She hugged Lady Bilderston, heedless of that lady’s protests not to crush her gown. ‘You are the best of godmothers, ma’am!’

‘Yes, yes, but that does not change the fact that you are looking very pale, my love, and that will not do. We will not go to Almack’s tomorrow, and perhaps we should cry off from Lady Addingham’s ball on Saturday. A few days’ rest will restore your spirits, I am sure. Now, what do you say?’

Thinking of her forthcoming meeting with Nathan MacCauley, Eustacia could only nod: suddenly she would have given everything to be safely back in Somerset, and to find that all this had been a dream. But it was real, and Eustacia knew her duty: she stood with her godmother at the top of the sweeping staircase and greeted the guests, smiling and chatting as if she had not a care in the world.

When Rupert arrived, he kissed her cheek dutifully, failed to notice her unnatural pallor and wandered off to mingle with the rest of the guests. Miss Pensford arrived shortly after, with her parents, and Eustacia observed that Mrs Pensford had thrown off her mourning-clothes and was wearing a very elegant gown of blue satin, several shades darker than the celestial-blue lustring other daughter’s robe, but equally expensive. As if to add to her depression, Eustacia realized that if Mrs Pensford had now ended her mourning for her cousin, there was little to prevent the announcement of Miss Pensford’s engagement to Vivyan. Such lowering thoughts did nothing to lighten Eustacia’s mood, but she covered it well, and no one talking to Miss Marchant would have guessed the turmoil within.

Soon after supper, she entered the salon and saw Rupert and Helen Pensford sitting together, deep in conversation. When at last Rupert moved away, Miss Pensford’s eyes followed him, and there was such a look of longing and despair on her usually impassive countenance that Eustacia felt her stomach turn over. It seemed impossible to Eustacia that Helen should prefer Rupert to Vivyan. A sudden realization burst upon her: she could scarcely believe it. She told herself it was impossible, but the idea, once born, was not to be brushed aside lightly. Excusing herself from the next dance, much to the chagrin of her partner, Eustacia slipped between the chattering spectators and watched. It soon became apparent that Mr Alleyne’s eyes strayed far too frequently towards Miss Pensford, and when he spoke to her, that young lady’s pale cheek became suffused with a delicate blush.

‘Of course,’ muttered Eustacia. ‘What a fool I have been not to see it before!’ A mischievous twinkle gleamed in her eyes: it was now even more necessary to rescue Vivyan, and make two other people happy at the same time!

* * * *

The following morning found Miss Marchant in a whirl of activity, and by the time she took Snuffles for his morning walk, she had already sent Nan upon an errand and arranged for her groom to bring her mare to the door at noon. Lady Bilderston, coming out of her bedroom just as Eustacia was descending the stairs, expressed her amazement at her god-daughter’s energy.

‘Surely you are not riding at this hour?’ she exclaimed, observing Eustacia’s riding-dress.

‘Why, yes, ma’am.’ Eustacia glanced down at the bandbox she carried in one gloved hand. ‘I — um — I discovered a rent in one of my gowns, and I thought I would drop it in to Madame Sylvie while I am out today.’

‘My dear child, if you have torn a gown there is no need to bother the modiste with it. Let me take it, and my woman shall set a stitch in it directly—’ She reached out to take the bandbox, but Eustacia whipped it away.

‘No, no, it - it is far too bad to be repaired here! I am sorry, Godmama, I did not wish to tell you, but I see I must confess. I caught it on a splinter when I was in the garden last week, and it is quite ripped! I was hoping to have it repaired before you knew anything about it. Pray, ma’am, let me do this, or I shall never forgive myself.’ On these words Eustacia ran lightly down the stairs, stopping at the bottom to blow her godmother a kiss before she danced out of the house.

Shaking her head, Lady Bilderston made her way downstairs at a more sedate pace, muttering under her breath about the unpredictability of her god-daughter.

* * * *

On Saturday morning Mr MacCauley was waiting within the gardens for Eustacia, and as she approached he made his bow, then turned to walk beside her.

‘Well, Miss Marchant — do you have an answer?’

She ignored his proffered arm.

‘First, tell me something of your property in Dorset. Is — is it a large estate?’

Mr MacCauley drew himself up.

‘Large enough. There is the home farm, and several acres of woodland. Haven’t seen it for years, but I doubt if it has changed much. My uncle did not enjoy good health, I understand, and the property has been run by his agent for the past dozen years.’

‘So it will have servants, footmen and chambermaids, and the like?’

‘By heaven, yes! I ain’t a pauper, you know.’

‘Then yes, I have decided to accept your offer - to buy your silence!’

‘A wise decision, my dear, if I may say so. Well, there’s a little church in Highgate. As soon as I’ve made all right with the curate—’

‘Pray, sir, let me finish! There are . . .
terms’

He frowned at her, suddenly wary.

‘Terms?’

‘Yes. I am attending Lady Addingham’s ball this evening, and I want you to bring a travelling-coach to the door at eleven o’clock. From there we will travel to The Sun at Frith, where I have already secured rooms for us, and sent on my luggage—’

‘And why all this havey-cavey business, Miss? If you’re agreeable to marrying me, why don’t we just come out and tell your godmother?’

‘Because Mr Alleyne is very likely to shoot you, when he learns I have rejected him for you!’ She added mendaciously, ‘And I understand that he is a crack shot, too. No, it will be better if we tie the knot
before
we tell my family. And you need not think there will be any impropriety — my maid will be in attendance.’

‘Well, I don’t like it! How do I know you won’t double-cross me?’

‘You have my word upon it!’ She fixed him with her direct gaze. You
can
arrange a carriage for tonight, can you not?’

‘Well, of course I can, but I can’t help thinking there’s something dashed smoky about this whole thing!’

It took Miss Marchant some time to persuade Nathan MacCauley to agree to her plan, but her success elated her, and when she walked into Lady Bilderston’s morning-room some half an hour later, her eyes were still shining with her triumph.

‘Stacey, my love, have you been out already? I thought you were going to rest today.’ Lady Bilderston was seated at the little writing-desk, but now she leaned down to pat Snuffles, who had trotted up to her, flanks heaving from his exertion, but his tail wagging in greeting.