The Danbury Scandals (12 page)

‘Now, miss,’
said the servant, standing the bowl on the table beside Maryanne. ‘Let’s have
you out of those torn clothes. I’ll find some of mine for you.’ She looked
Maryanne up and down. ‘Not that they will be up to what you are used to...’

‘Oh, pray do
not consider that,’ Maryanne said. ‘I am very grateful for your help. But I do
hope Mr Saint-Pierre will not be long.’

The girl
laughed. ‘Oh, you mean Cap’n Shoecar. He will be back as soon as maybe.’

Shoecar! How
many more names did the man have? And why were they necessary? The more she
found out about him, the more he seemed to have to hide. ‘Do you know the
captain very well?’ she asked, as she struggled out of her gown and stripped
off the ruined stockings.

‘My husband
served with him. He was devoted to him.’

‘In the British
army?’

Madame
Clavier smiled. ‘No, miss.’ She
waited until Maryanne had washed her face and arms, then set the bowl of water
on the floor at her feet and knelt down beside it.

‘You don’t have
to do that,’ Maryanne said. ‘I can manage.’

‘If the cap’n
says to look after you, then that’s what I shall do. Come, put your feet in the
water.’ Maryanne obeyed.

‘Was he in the
French army?’

‘Who?’

‘The Captain.’

‘Yes.’

‘He served
Napoleon?’

‘He was serving
before Boney became Emperor.’ She shrugged. ‘Approve of him or not, you
couldn’t up and say you’d changed your mind about being a soldier after you
were sworn in, could you?’

So Mark had
been right. Did that make her feel any differently? ‘But you’re English.’

‘Michel, my
husband, was French,’ she said. ‘He died of his wounds after the Battle of
Orthez. ‘Twas only a month before the end of the war. If only...’ She busied
herself at Maryanne’s feet. ‘But there, it’s no good sighing for what might
have been. The Captain had promised him he’d look out for me, so he brought me
back to England and found me this place.’ Her voice betrayed the devotion she
had for the man who had helped her. ‘But for him...’

Maryanne
reached down and put a hand on her shoulder. ‘I am so sorry. It must have been
dreadful for you.’

‘Yes, but I
tell myself Michel’s at peace now and he wouldn’t have settled in England and
he dared not stay in France, not after...’ She stopped suddenly as if she
realised she was being indiscreet. ‘You were lucky you weren’t trampled to
death, miss.’

‘Yes, I had no
idea how unruly a crowd can become. It was like a great tide, unable to stop.
And for one man. The Duke is greatly loved, is he not?’

‘Yes, miss.’
She sat back on her heels and spread the cloth over her knees, then she lifted
Maryanne’s foot on to it and began very carefully to pat it dry. ‘You’ll need a
salve on your heel, miss. I’ll go fetch some and a gown for you.’

She disappeared
and Maryanne was left sitting on the settle in her underskirt with her bare
feet out in front of her. So, the Frenchman had been a captain in Napoleon’s
army and he was known as Shoecar in military company. Put him with the ton in
an elegant drawing-room and he became Adam Saint-Pierre, the dandy. And, yet
again, dress him in labouring clothes and set him down in the country and he
became Jack Daw. Why, oh, why?

The brandy had
made her drowsy and she was warm and comfortable; it was a pity she had to
dress again and go out. If she stayed, would she learn more about Adam? But
Mark must be searching for her and going mad with anxiety. And she had been compromised
enough. Not that it was her rescuer’s fault; it was she who had been foolish,
just as she had been foolish at the ball. It seemed she was fated to find
herself in the Frenchman’s arms. Mark would never understand that, but suddenly
she found she didn’t care. She lay back and shut her eyes.

When Adam
returned, he found her curled up like a kitten, fast asleep.

Chapter Five

Maryanne
stirred a little but did not open her eyes; she was too comfortable and, if truth
be known, reluctant to let go of her dreams and face reality.

‘What are you
going to do?’ The whispered words of the woman penetrated Maryanne’s
consciousness.

‘I don’t know.
What can I do?’

‘Go and see
Danbury.’

‘No.’ Adam
almost forgot to whisper. ‘Not yet. I must have proof, and, besides, until the
Count’s affairs are settled. . .’

‘Pooh to that.
What is the Count de Challac to you? Let him take care of his own affairs. You
watch out for yourself. Even in England, even after the war is ended, there is
danger...’

‘Who told you
that?’

‘Mr Rudge’s
housekeeper.’

‘Jeannie should
have held her tongue.’

‘Don’t blame
her. I asked and she is worried about you. And now you have made a fool of
yourself over this one.’

Maryanne kept
her eyes tight shut and lay very still, knowing she ought to let them know she
was now fully awake, but unwilling to do so.

‘Not a fool,’
he said, and his voice ground out his anger. ‘A coward and that is worse.’

‘Anyone who
knows you knows that is nonsense. Are you going through with the race?’

‘Of course.’

‘Did you go to
Hatchett’s?’

‘Yes, the new
curricle will be ready by the end of the week.’

‘Markham has
promised to lend you his greys, but I advise you to have some practice or that
young blood will beat you.’

‘I have no time
for practice, I shall have to rely on luck.’

‘Luck will not
be enough. If you are determined to win, then you will need more help than
that. What is it they say? All’s fair in love and war.’

‘This is not
war.’ He paused slightly before going on. ‘Nor love, come to that.’

The dream
Maryanne had been holding on to finally faded to nothing. Once again she was
faced with her own foolishness; once again she was in a predicament of her own
making. Why had she not stayed close to Mark? Why had she allowed herself to be
carried into this house? How many people had seen it happen? How many people
would learn about it in the next few days? How could she face Lord Danbury, who
trusted her to behave as a lady should, and Mark, who had only that morning
proposed to her? She opened her eyes and turned towards the speakers.

Adam was
standing by the hearth, staring morosely into the empty grate. Beside him stood
Lady Markham, wearing a blue silk burnous with the hood thrown back. She heard
Maryanne stir and turned towards her.

‘There, my
dear, awake at last.’

‘Yes. I don’t
know why I fell asleep like that.’

‘I’m afraid we
put something in your drink,’ Adam said. ‘Not to harm you, just to keep you
here.’

‘Keep me? Am I
a prisoner?’

‘Lord, no!’ He
laughed, but she did not smile. The words ‘nor love’ burned themselves into her
brain so that everything he did and said took on a more sinister aspect and
even his laughter seemed no longer genuine. ‘Jeannie was afraid you would do
something foolish like trying to find your erstwhile escort.’

‘What is
foolish about that?’

‘Oh, my dear,’
Lady Markham put in. ‘Just think. You cannot go through the streets alone and
on foot, looking for someone who might be anywhere, even discounting the
scandal of arriving home looking like that.’ She indicated Maryanne’s borrowed
clothes. ‘But Mark will be very worried.’

‘And feeling
guilty too, I hope,’ Adam said. ‘He should not have taken you into the crowd
and he certainly should not have let you out of his sight.’

‘We were
celebrating our engagement,’ she said. If he had denied love, then she must let
him know she did not care; she had other fish to fry.

‘Engagement?’

‘Yes. He
proposed this morning and I accepted.’

‘
Mon Dieu
!’
He began poking with a hessian-booted foot at the logs which lay in the grate.

‘Is there
anything wrong in that?’ she demanded.

He faced her.
‘Nothing at all. My felicitations, ma’am. When is the ceremony to be?’

‘We haven’t
decided yet.’ Why did she feel no elation, no joy, no swifter beating of her
heart at the prospect? ‘You are the first to be told.’

He bowed
stiffly. ‘I am honoured.’ He turned to Lady Markham. ‘We had better do
something about salvaging Miss Paynter’s reputation before the Honourable Mark
changes his mind and I have to marry her in his place.’

‘I wouldn’t
agree to marry you however compromised I had been,’ Maryanne retorted. ‘So you
may relieve yourself of that worry.’

‘Come, my dear,
you are a little distraught,’ Lady Markham said, taking Maryanne’s arm. ‘And
small wonder. Let’s leave this grumpy man to his own devices. I’ve come to take
you home with me.’

‘It’s very kind
of you, but I must go back to Danbury House, everyone will be worried.’

Beth Markham
gave a little sniff as if she didn’t believe it. ‘No, they won’t, for I sent a
message that you are with me and won’t be returning until tomorrow. I asked
them to send your maid with some fresh clothes. You can’t return to Danbury
House looking like that.’

‘Tomorrow, but
why?’ She was acutely aware of Adam standing with his back to the fireplace,
watching her, but she dared not look at him in case he saw the bleakness in her
eyes.

‘You need to
get over your ordeal, my dear, and, besides, it would be better for you to be
seen returning home with me than with...’

Maryanne began
to laugh shakily. ‘How kind of you to worry about my reputation, but I think it
might well be too late.’

‘Of course it
isn’t, my dear. It was unwise of Mr Danbury to take you into the common crowd,
but there was nothing disreputable about it, though, if my husband had not been
among the group welcoming Wellington and seen you lost and hurt, who knows what
might have happened?’

‘Your husband?’
Maryanne queried, looking from Lady Markham to Adam, whose face betrayed
nothing of what he was thinking. ‘He saw me?’

‘No, but that
is what we shall say. It was Markham who rescued you and sent for me, and you
were in no state to continue home to Danbury House; in fact you had collapsed
and can remember nothing of how you came to be with me.’ She laughed suddenly.
‘Remember that and all will be well.’

‘And Mr
Saint-Pierre’s part in it?’

‘We will leave
him out of it, shall we? He is in enough trouble with Mark Danbury as it is.’
She turned to Adam. ‘Remember what I said about that race.’

‘I wish it
didn’t have to happen,’ Maryanne said miserably. ‘I’m sure someone will be
hurt.’

‘Would you
rather we fought a duel?’ Adam asked.

‘No, of course
not, but I don’t see why you have to do either.’

Lady Markham
smiled. ‘Oh, the men must test each other’s mettle now and again, and racing a
pair of horses in harness is rather less dangerous than some of the antics they
get up to. And, in any case, I rather think that the real contest is between
Mark and the Duke of Wiltshire. Mr Saint-Pierre was only asked to join them
after it had been arranged, so do not let your conscience trouble you. Am I not
right, Adam?’

‘Yes. Miss
Paynter need not flatter herself that it has anything to do with her.’ He spoke
flatly, his voice cool and controlled.

Beth laughed
and tapped his arm with her parasol. ‘Now that was a very ungallant remark,
sir, even if it is true.’ She turned to Maryanne. ‘I have a closed carriage
outside, so come, let us smuggle you to Bedford Row, before your family come
calling to see how you are. I want you tucked up in bed by then.’ She began
hustling Maryanne towards the door.

Maryanne turned
to Adam, her coolness matching his. ‘I must thank you for your help.’ He bowed
in acknowledgement and she went on, ‘I would also like to thank Mr Rudge for
allowing such a disreputable character into his house, and
Madame
Clavier for looking after me.’

‘Robert has
gone out,’ Adam said. ‘And Jeannie is in the hall with your clothes done up in
a parcel.’

‘Come along, my
dear.’ Lady Markham was all efficient bustle again. ‘Doubtless you will be
seeing Mr Rudge again, and Adam too, at the race.’

Maryanne
allowed herself a glance at him. He was looking grim as if that idea displeased
him. She desperately wanted to make him smile, to return to the easy
relationship they had had before, but the man who stood by the hearth and bowed
stiffly to her was a proud stranger. ‘I preferred Jack Daw,’ she said. ‘He was
an altogether more cheerful character.’ Then, without waiting for a reply, she
followed Lady Markham out to her carriage.

She stayed two
days at Bedford Row, cosseted like an invalid. James came to see her, bringing
Rose and a basket of clothes. He told her how worried they had all been and
that Mark had spent hours searching for her. They were all so relieved to hear
she had been found and very grateful to her ladyship for looking after her. He
made Maryanne feel guilty; she was not ill and although she had been very
distressed at the time she had soon recovered. ‘I feel a fraud,’ she told Beth
Markham when he had left. ‘He has done so much for me.’