Parfit Knight (3 page)

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Authors: Stella Riley

Tags: #romance, #history, #humour, #duel, #18th century, #highwaymen, #parrot, #london 1774, #vauxhall garden

BOOK: Parfit Knight
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‘Does he? Well,
well – he has been busy.’ This with a certain acidity. ‘And there I
was thinking that he only interfered out of a desire to steal the
stage.’

‘You know
perfectly well that he did,’ came the dry response. ‘It’s a habit
with him. He no more thinks you a flat-catcher than I do.’

‘I thank you
both.’

‘Don’t mention
it. I assume you’ve no intention of letting the boy pay you?’

The Marquis
crossed northwards into Berkeley Street.

‘Do you? Now
why should you think that?’ he asked sweetly.

‘Oh bloody
hell!’ breathed Mr Ingram, disgust getting the better of him. ‘I
wonder if you know just how infuriating you can be?’

‘Well, I
think
I do,’ murmured Amberley meekly.

‘I doubt it.
I’ve known you for a dozen years or more and – ‘

‘As long as
that?’

‘Yes. And
you’ve never been any different. For – ‘

‘Really? Well,
that’s a comfort.’

Jack was forced
to smother a grin. ‘Who for?’ he retorted. And then, without
waiting for a reply, ‘You know that I know you won’t take Dacre’s
money – but for some lunatic reason you’d sooner bleed to death
than admit it. Well? Correct me if I’m wrong!’

‘I wouldn’t
dare,’ said Amberley amicably.

There was an
explosive silence and then Mr Ingram said carefully, ‘I sometimes
wonder why I put up with you.’

‘No you don’t.’
His lordship laughed. ‘It’s because I can give you the entrée to
Richmond. Can you doubt it? And, by the way, I’ll be driving there
tomorrow – if you care to come with me.’

This was
obvious bait but none the less tempting for that and it was with
very real regret that Jack recollected a previous engagement.
Invitations to the Dowager Marchioness of Amberley’s charming
retreat were all too rare and the Dowager herself [though anyone
less like a dowager Jack had never met] rarely left it.

‘I can’t,’ he
said. ‘I’m promised to Gilmore.’

They had
reached Bruton Place and Mr Ingram’s lodgings. The Marquis turned
to him with a teasing smile. ‘Just as well. I’ve really no ambition
to acquire you as a step-father.’

Jack grinned
back sheepishly. ‘Hardly! It’s just that she’s so … so … ‘

‘I know. And,
like you, I’ve never met a woman who could hold a candle to her. So
if and when I do, I’ll take the greatest care not to present the
lady to you.’

‘Wise of you!’
laughed Jack. Then, ‘Are you staying in Richmond or shall I see you
in the Club on Friday?’

‘Neither. I
leave for Amberley when I’ve settled matters with young Dacre.’

Mr Ingram
stared at him. ‘You’re mad! It’s January and there’s more snow on
the way, if I’m any judge.’

‘I’m only going
to Hertfordshire,’ the Marquis protested. ‘It’s not entirely beyond
the realms of civilisation, you know – and I haven’t seen the place
in over a year. My agent writes of a score of matters requiring my
attention and, if I don’t go now, I doubt I’ll get there before the
spring. Only four days back in London and already the tentacles of
Society are beginning to close in on me.’

‘You may find
they unclose again fast enough after tonight,’ warned Jack,
reverting to his original theme. ‘I know Robert Dacre is a spoilt
and mannerless young cub sharply in need of a kicking but he
already resents you more than is reasonable and, given the
opportunity, I believe he’d be glad to do you a mischief.’

‘Don’t worry.
He won’t be given the opportunity.’

‘Well, I hope
not.’ Mr Ingram eyed his friend with resigned exasperation. ‘You’re
not going to discuss it, are you?’

‘No. I rather
hoped, you see,’ replied the Marquis with a hint of wistfulness,
‘that I didn’t need to.’

Jack was not
proof against that tone.

‘Oh devil take
you, Nick – you’re impossible. Go home to bed.’

Amberley
laughed. ‘Is that a blessing or a curse? Either way, I feel I
should sympathise with you.’

‘Cold comfort!’
Jack hesitated and then said, ‘By the way – what happened to Fanny?
I take it you didn’t bring her back with you?’

His lordship
turned back to survey him mockingly from the middle of the
road.

‘No. I didn’t
bring her back. I think, like you, she found my levity rather
trying – especially when relating to such vital necessities of life
as emerald tiaras and Mediterranean villas. At all events, she
hurled a coffee-pot at my head one morning, favoured me with a
sadly unflattering description of my person, my character and my …
er … capabilities – and finished with a graphic hypothesis on my
genealogy. Then she ran off with a Genoese Count. A very
rich
Genoese Count, so I believe.’

‘Oh dear,’ said
Jack. ‘So what did you do?’

‘The only thing
possible,’ replied Amberley gravely. ‘I’m afraid that I
laughed.’

 

~ * * * ~

 

 

 

 

TWO

 

The clock was
just striking noon when the Marquis of Amberley’s valet informed
him that the Honourable Robert Dacre had arrived and was waiting to
see him. Still gorgeously attired in a frogged silk dressing-gown,
the Marquis raised his eyes from the absorbing task of buffing his
nails and said gently, ‘Already? Well, well.’

Saunders met
the guileless stare stoically.

‘Yes, my lord.
Shall I get your lordship’s coat?’

‘My coat? Ah
yes.’ Amberley leaned back in his chair and surveyed the garment
pensively. ‘Do you know, Jim – I don’t believe I’ll wear the grey
after all. It has an appearance of austerity that I feel may not
appeal to Mr Dacre. I shall wear … claret.’

‘Yes, my lord.’
Well aware what game was being played, a sardonic gleam replaced
Saunders’ wooden expression as he turned to restore the grey coat
to the clothes-press.

‘Or should it
be blue?’ mused the light voice behind him. ‘Blue … with the cream
embroidered vest.’

The valet
turned back with every appearance of helpfulness.

‘There’s the
purple velvet you haven’t worn yet, my lord.’

‘Mm.’ Mischief
danced in the grey-green eyes but his lordship’s mouth was prim.
‘But it seems a pity to waste it on a mere … on a journey. Don’t
you agree?’

Saunders’
impassivity because a trifle strained.

‘As you say, my
lord.’ He fixed his gaze on a point some six inches above his
master’s head and said disinterestedly, ‘I quite forgot to tell
you, my lord – but Barrow did happen to mention as how he’d left a
bottle of the best Chambertin in the library with Mr Dacre. He
hoped he’d done right, sir.’

There was a
brief silence and then the Marquis succumbed to long, infectious
laughter.

‘You should
have been a General, Jim. Such tactics are worthy of a better
cause,’ he said unsteadily. And then, getting up, ‘Oh very well.
You may get out the blue coat. But if Barrow finds out how you
impugned his honour, you’ll be thoroughly ditched - and so I warn
you!’

By the time
Amberley entered the library, Robert had been waiting a full half
hour and his angry flush and smouldering gaze spoke volumes for the
state of his temper. He was a good-looking youth and mercifully not
addicted to the extremes of fashion favoured by the Macaroni Club
but his face was constantly overlaid by an expression of petulance
and his manners were frequently careless to the point of rudeness.
Just now, he swept round to fix his lordship with a scorching stare
and said furiously, ‘At last! I daresay you think it funny to order
me here and then keep me kicking my heels while you … ‘ And then he
caught the look in the other man’s eyes and the words seemed to
wither on his tongue.

‘Not at all,’
replied Amberley equably. ‘You’re merely a little more punctual
than I expected.’

Robert cast him
a glance of acute dislike. It was true that he’d intended to be
late but Lord Philip had nipped that idea in the bud by handing
over the wad of bank-notes and then personally driving him to
Hanover Square to deliver them.

The Marquis had
no difficulty in interpreting that look and a mocking smile played
about his mouth. ‘Just so. I did not, however, invite you here to
discuss your views on punctuality. Sit down.’

‘Invite?’
flared Robert. ‘I understood it was more in the nature of a
command. And you had absolutely no right to behave as though I
couldn’t be trusted to come and pay you of my own accord. I don’t
forget my debts and if you’ll be so good as to produce my vowels,
I’m more than willing to redeem them. I – ‘

‘Sit down,’
said Lord Amberley again and this time his voice was stripped of
both amusement and patience.

Robert
swallowed convulsively – and sat.

‘That’s better.
I have no taste for lengthy rodomontades – nor they impress me,’
the Marquis went on crisply. ‘Neither do I care for ill-mannered
young men who habitually play with money they don’t possess. Yes –
I know you’ve apparently found the funds to pay me; but that merely
means that you now owe somebody else – unless your father has been
persuaded to bail you out yet again. And I doubt that very much
because I imagine that it would puzzle him to do it.’

Robert’s hand
clenched on the arm of his chair. ‘Damn you – that’s no concern of
yours!’

‘No, it isn’t.
But it ought to be a concern of yours. And though I would have been
very happy to remain outside your affairs, you made that impossible
when you indulged in what I can only assume to be an ill-judged
attempt to wreak vengeance on my head. Do you really think I derive
any pleasure from winning large sums from such as you?’

‘Are you
telling me you don’t?’ sneered Robert. ‘You certainly didn’t try
very hard to prevent it, did you?’

Amberley
sighed. ‘And just how exactly would you have wanted me to do that?
By a point-blank refusal to have you at the table - or by allowing
you to chase me from it? The first could surely have occasioned you
no satisfaction whatsoever and the second is possibly a little too
much to expect.’

‘I expect
nothing from you – except that you go out of your way to make a
fool of me.’

‘You are
mistaken. You achieve that quite successfully without help from
myself or, indeed, anyone else – and if I’d wanted to embarrass
you, I’d have publicly refused to accept your vowels. As it is,
I’ve better ways of passing my time.’ His lordship’s face was stern
and his eyes held a glint of steel. ‘I know you fancy the exquisite
Fanny to have been a victim of my rank, my wealth and my
Machiavellian wiles designed to thwart your happiness - but it
isn’t so. And while I make full allowance for your natural
disappointment at the time, you should by now have contrived to
master it.’

‘You don’t
understand!’ It was the resentful cry of youth. ‘She loved
me
before you came along and turned her head!’

‘I assure you
that I understand only too well,’ came the calm reply. ‘And though
I doubt you will believe it, she was by no means the blushing
little flower of virtue you apparently believed her to be – and
quite shockingly expensive.’ Amberley surveyed Robert’s expression
of implacable but frustrated fury and then gave a tiny shrug. ‘All
this is beside the point. You think I called you here to pay me. I
didn’t. I leave town this afternoon and I wished, before I left, to
inform you that the only use I have for your vowels is to light the
fire with them.’ He opened a drawer in his desk and then tossed a
small packet into the younger man’s lap. ‘Here – take them.’

For a second
Robert was dumbstruck and then he lifted his eyes from the bundle
of paper to look suspiciously at the Marquis.

‘Why?’ he
asked. ‘What do you want of me?’

A look of mild
contempt darkened the grey-green eyes. ‘I don’t want anything of
you. It would, of course, be pleasant if you refrained from making
the same mistake again but I imagine that’s too much to hope for –
at least until you exhaust the good-nature of your friends.’

Robert flushed,
suddenly conscious of Lord Philip’s bills nestling comfortably in
his pocket.

‘As for why,’
Amberley went on scathingly, ‘it is a matter of honour. And for the
sake of some future young idiot, as yet still in the nursery, I can
only hope that you’ll come to understand that for yourself in
time.’

‘All you care
about is what will be said of you,’ accused Robert.

The Marquis
wished that Mr Ingram had been privileged to hear that remark and
his laugh held real amusement. ‘Hardly – though you would naturally
think so.’

The brown eyes
narrowed. ‘You mean you don’t intend to tell everyone?’

‘No. You really
shouldn’t judge everyone by your own standards, you know.’

Robert ignored
this. An idea was taking shape and the simplicity of it stopped his
breath. Two birds with one stone – and all he needed to do was to
keep his mouth shut and trust Amberley to do the same. He subdued
an impulse to smile, the first he had known in two days, and got
up, cramming the vowels into his pocket.

‘Very well – I
accept your word,’ he said ungraciously. ‘So if there’s nothing
else you wish to say to me, I’ll take my leave.’

‘I can think of
several things but I’m quite sure it would be a waste of breath,’
said his lordship dryly as he pulled the tasselled cord that would
summon his butler. Then, thoughtfully, ‘I take it that your
military friend is new to town?’

‘My military
friend?’ echoed Robert blankly. ‘Oh – yes. He’s to marry my sister
– though I can’t conceive why it should interest you.’

Amberley smiled
slowly. ‘It doesn’t. But it explains a lot.’

*

Walking away
from Hanover Square in the direction of Pall Mall and the Cocoa
Tree Club, it never once occurred to Mr Dacre that he had neither
contemplated refusing Lord Amberley’s generous offer nor made even
a token gesture of gratitude.

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