The Husband Season (17 page)

‘He promised to be here.’

‘Something must have turned up to detain him. If it is any consolation, Teddy is not here either and Lucy is looking as doleful as you do. You may commiserate with each other.’

‘It is all the same to you, isn’t it? You have admirers in plenty and may amuse yourself playing one off against the other.’

‘Yes, it is great fun, Cassie. You should try it.’

‘Oh, you are impossible. I should look out, if I were you. You are fast earning a reputation as a flirt. One day, someone will really break your heart and then we shall see how you like that.’

Sophie did not answer. She had spoken out of bravado, but if that was what everyone was saying, then she might as well give them something to talk about. Vincent came to claim her for the second time, and she took his hand and went gaily on to the floor with him.

* * *

The rest of the evening went by in a blur. She laughed too much, drank too much and let the neck of her gown slip down to reveal creamy shoulders. But in the carriage going home, she burst into tears. ‘There, there,’ her aunt said, patting her hand to comfort her. ‘It is over now. Cheer up. He did not come and there has been no announcement. I didn’t think he would offer for that chit. She is too empty-headed. All is not lost, though I must say, you did rather overdo the not caring.’

‘I
don’t
care.’ She sniffed. ‘I shall go home and help Jane with her orphans.’

‘You cannot go until Mark comes for you, nor before Edward is found.’

‘I have been told he left London so as not to influence me in making a decision as to whom I should marry. I can’t believe that’s true.’

‘It could be, I suppose. Now cheer up. Ten to one Viscount Kimberley has found him.’

‘He would have come and told us if he had.’

‘No doubt we will find out tomorrow. I’ll have Bessie make up a sleeping draught for you and then you will have a good night’s rest.’

‘What’s left of it,’ she said, managing to smile.

* * *

Adam was in his room at Wyndham House, examining his face in the mirror. It looked a mess. There was a huge swelling over his right eye and the skin had split, allowing blood to run down into his eye. His lip was cut and there was a bruise on his chin. He reached up to touch it and winced as the pain in his arm reminded him it had been twisted behind his back. He could not have gone to the ball looking like that.

He poured cold water from the jug on his night table into a bowl and wetted a facecloth to clean off the blood. It did not look quite so bad when he finished, but he certainly could not go out and about until the swelling had subsided; he would frighten the life out of the ladies. He would write a letter of apology to Mrs Malthouse in the morning. He supposed he ought to write one to Sophie, too. But what could he say? ‘I was set upon and beaten black and blue. As an investigator I am a complete failure. I am a failure as a champion of the poor, too. They do not believe me. Worse still, I cannot even conduct my personal affairs with any degree of assurance. I am leaving London forthwith before I forget who I am and what I am.’

He had been set upon, it was true, taken by surprise in a back street and robbed of his purse, his pocket watch, his signet ring and the cravat pin Anne had given him on their first anniversary; he was madder about that than any of the other items. As to the rest, he could not write any such thing.

The strange thing was that he was convinced the robbery was not premeditated and neither of the two ruffians had been the one who had followed him before. That man had not been interested in attacking him; he could have done so on any number of occasions. In fact, he was sure it was that he who had come to his rescue and helped him beat off his attackers.

‘Who are you?’ he asked after he had thanked him.

He was a big, brawny man, handy with his fists and surprisingly nimble on his feet. ‘Names don’t matter, sir.’

‘Why have you been dogging my footsteps?’

‘Has someone been dogging your footsteps?’

‘Yes, and you know it.’

‘Let me see you safely home, sir.’

‘And you know where I lodge, I have no doubt.’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘I can see myself home.’

‘Very well.’ He’d picked up Adam’s hat and handed it to him.

Adam would have liked to stride off, his head in the air, but his injuries had prevented that. He’d hobbled as best he could and known the man had not been far behind him. He had seen no point in trying to evade him and had made his way back to South Audley Street in the most direct way he knew.

It had taken him through Hanover Square. The house was lit up from top to bottom and he could hear the music of a waltz. She would have been there, dancing with her admirers, pretending all was well, perhaps even enjoying herself, safe in the knowledge that he would not let her down. But he had and he felt his failure keenly. He’d passed on and the music had faded until he could not hear it any more.

Farley was out when he’d arrived, no doubt still looking for that elusive Cavenhurst, and he had not wanted to rouse the housekeeper, so he had made his way up to his room. Without lighting a candle he’d gone to the window and looked out on the street. The man who had followed him was standing in the middle of the road, looking up at him. He’d smiled, saluted and walked away. Who was he? Why, if he meant him no harm, was he following him? He had nothing to do with Teddy Cavenhurst, because it had been happening before Teddy went missing. It had started after he’d spoken to Henry Hunt. But why would Hunt have him followed? He was desperately tired and his head ached. He would have to leave conundrums like that until the morning. He stripped off his clothes and flung himself on the bed.

He must have been asleep, though he could not be sure, when a vision floated into his mind of Sophie dancing. She was smiling up at whoever she was dancing with, her lips slightly parted, her blue eyes shining. The vision faded and he was sitting beside Anne’s bed, watching her die. She was smiling, too. He groaned and thumped his pillow. ‘Forgive me,’ he muttered, though whether he was addressing Anne or Sophie he could not have said.

Chapter Nine

L
ady Cartrose slept in even later than usual the morning following the ball, and Sophie was able to leave the house without any questions being asked. She did not even have Bessie with her. The necklace was in its box in her reticule. The inside of the box was inscribed with the name Rundell, Bridge and Rundell in Ludgate Hill, and that was where she was bound. Having no idea how to go about hiring a cab or a chair, she decided to walk. She was dressed in a green-and-yellow-striped gingham gown topped with a light shawl. Her plain straw bonnet, tied under her chin with green ribbon, had a wide brim that half concealed her face. She hoped this unremarkable attire would allow her to pass unnoticed.

It was a longish walk, and she was not certain of her way, but she knew if she asked for help she would be advised not to go and certainly not alone, so she did not ask. Consequently she found herself lost in a part of London she had never been in before. It was dreadfully run-down. Washing hung across the road from the upper windows of the crowded tenements, ragged children played in the malodorous gutters and a dog and cat fought with snarls and hisses and bared teeth. Women stood in the doorways and an old man sat on a stool beside an open window. There were stalls along the street selling second-hand clothing, old shoes and cast-off finery that she guessed had passed through more than one pair of hands. She knew she was attracting stares, but could not retreat. Instead, she picked her way along, wishing fervently she had never ventured so far from Mount Street without an escort. She was not even sure she was going in the right direction.

The road widened at last and she found herself at a crossroads, where several roads met. Here, thankfully, there was wheeled traffic, pedestrians and riders. She turned left and was relieved when, after walking a few yards she recognised the Covent Garden Opera House. If she walked past that she would come out on to the Strand. She had been along that way in the carriage with her aunt and knew if she continued in an easterly direction she would come to Ludgate Hill.

Once there it was not difficult to find the jeweller’s shop, but when she produced the necklace and asked the young man who served her what it was worth, she was left standing while he went into the back of the shop to consult a colleague. She heard the murmur of voices, and then an older gentleman came out to speak to her. He had the necklace draped over his hand.

‘Where did you get this, miss?’

‘My sister gave it to me.’

‘And your sister is...’

They thought she had stolen it! They would check with Jane and Jane would be hurt to think that she could even consider selling it. She snatched it back. ‘I’m sorry, I’ve changed my mind.’ She stuffed it in the pocket of her skirt and fled.

‘Hey, come back.’ The young man set off after her. She ran back the way she had come as fast as her feet would carry her with the young man in pursuit, shouting, ‘Stop, thief!’ Everyone on the pavement stood watching the chase, but no one thought to hinder her.

Her breath was almost spent and her legs feeling weak, when a carriage drew up beside her, the door opened, someone got out and bundled her into it and they were off again. It happened so quickly she did not have time to protest. She turned towards her rescuer, if that was what he was, and found herself face to face with Lord Gorange.

‘Miss Cavenhurst, what happened? Who was that young man? And what are you doing so far from Mount Street on your own?’

Sophie was still trying to get her breath back. ‘I don’t know who he is. I have been to Rundell, Bridge and Rundell. The clasp of my necklace was loose and I wanted to have it repaired before I lost it.’

‘You think that was what he was after?’

‘I expect so,’ she said, grasping at the explanation he offered.

‘But why did you not ask Lady Cartrose for the use of her carriage and someone to escort you?’

‘I did not want to trouble her.’

‘It is fortunate indeed that I was passing.’

‘Yes,’ she agreed. ‘I thank you, my lord.’

‘I should never forgive myself if anything happened to you.’ He paused, apparently taking in her dishevelled appearance. ‘My dear, I know you are not used to London ways, but you know, what is permissible in Hadlea is frowned upon in London. You will earn yourself a certain reputation...’

‘I think I already have.’

‘A good marriage would soon set that to rights.’

‘Perhaps.’ She knew what he was going to say next and needed to forestall him. ‘My lord, have you seen anything of my brother?’

‘Not for several days. I expect he is lying low somewhere.’

‘Lying low?’

‘Avoiding his creditors. It is common knowledge he is in dun country and Captain Moore is looking for him.’

‘Captain Moore is a scoundrel.’

‘My dear, I could not agree more, but gambling debts have to be paid, you know.’ He paused and cleared his throat. ‘I could get Toby Moore off his back, if you would only say the word. It could be part of the marriage settlement.’

‘My lord, there is no need. Teddy’s debts have been paid.’

‘Have they?’ he asked in surprise. ‘Who paid them?’

‘Why, Teddy did.’

‘Excuse me, my dear, if I do not believe you. Everyone knows Teddy has pockets to let. My guess, it was either Reggie or Dickie, trying to steal a march on me.’

She laughed, the first genuine laugh she had managed since her brother disappeared. ‘I do not understand you three gentlemen. Why do you all persist?’

‘It is a matter of honour,’ he said, then, before she could ask what he meant, added, ‘I truly could not bear to see you married to either of the other two, good fellows though they are.’

She did not answer immediately. She had failed to sell the necklace and Viscount Kimberley had to be repaid before he, too, decided he needed recompensing for his generosity. The trouble was that it would be all too easy to give in to that particular gentleman.

‘At least say you will reconsider,’ he said into the silence. ‘If this latest escapade becomes known, you will be ruined forever.’

It sounded very much like blackmail, but it would not be wise to accuse him of it. ‘I will think about it.’

He grinned and lifted the back of her hand to his lips. ‘At least, my dear, it is a step in the right direction.’

The carriage was back in Mount Street in a few minutes and drew up outside Cartrose House. He helped her out and escorted her inside. They found her aunt in the morning room, reading a newspaper. She looked up as they entered. ‘There you are, Sophie. I did not know you were engaged to go out this morning, and so early, too.’

‘I was out walking and Lord Gorange saw me and took me up to bring me home, Aunt.’

‘Walking without me or Bessie? Tut tut, Sophie, that will not do, you know. Good morning, my lord. I thank you for rescuing her from her own folly. I trust no one saw you.’

‘No, we were not observed.’

Sophie stifled a giggle at this untruth. Half of London must have seen her running so indecorously and being bundled into the carriage. She prayed none of the spectators knew who she was.

‘No harm done, then,’ her ladyship said.

‘None whatsoever,’ he said, smiling with satisfaction. ‘I will take my leave of you now, but will call again in a few days, if I may. Good day, my lady. Miss Cavenhurst.’

He bowed and was gone, leaving her to be scolded by her aunt.

* * *

‘My lord,’ Farley said, standing before his master, who was enjoying a late breakfast in the dining room of Wyndham House and reading a letter he had just received. ‘You need a physician.’

‘No, I do not.’ Adam’s face and ribs were sore, but he said nothing of that. ‘Tell me what you have discovered. Turned up that scapegrace, have you?’

‘I believe he has been living in a low tavern down by the docks...’

‘Ah! Did you speak to him?’

‘No, my lord. He was no longer there. The tavern keeper told me he had been press-ganged.’

‘Press-ganged! Are you sure about this?’

‘Yes, my lord. When they came to take him he protested most strenuously...’

‘Well, they all do.’

‘Yes, but this young man tried to convince them he was a gentleman and gave them his name. Needless to say, they took no notice. He was, I gather, not in the best condition, having no change of raiment and in his cups. The innkeeper said he did not look like a gentleman and had asked for his cheapest room, for which he had not paid when he was taken. I recompensed the man from the money you entrusted with me. I could do nothing more because the ship had sailed.’

Adam began to laugh while Farley looked on in surprise. ‘My lord?’ he queried. ‘Did I do wrong?’

‘No, no, of course not,’ he said, wiping his streaming eyes. ‘Hard work and no money to gamble with will be the making of him, and Miss Cavenhurst can stop worrying about him.’

‘Speaking of Miss Cavenhurst, my lord. I was on my way back when I saw the lady running down Ludgate Hill pursued by a young fellow in a black suit, shouting, “Stop, thief”. I think they had just come out of the jewellers.’

‘You must be mistaken.’

‘I don’t think so, my lord, I am sure it was she. You don’t think...?’

‘No, of course I don’t,’ he snapped. ‘Did he catch up with her?’

‘No. A carriage drew up beside her and she was bundled inside.’

‘Whose carriage?’

‘I do not know, but I fancy I have seen it somewhere before. I could not follow, being on foot. It could have been an accomplice—’

‘Balderdash!’

‘As you say, my lord.’

‘I hope to God she has not been abducted. Heaven knows what her aunt will do if that is the case. I must go to Mount Street at once.’

‘My lord, should you? Your face... And that villain may still be out there.’

‘I am not hiding myself away indoors on his account, Farley. I recall I had a black eyepatch once before.’

‘Aye, you did when you indulged in fisticuffs with that troublemaker at the mill. He didn’t expect that.’

Adam smiled. ‘He looked a whole lot worse than I did after it.’

‘True. Shall I go and obtain such a patch?’

‘If you please. And while I am out, you may start to pack. We are leaving.’

‘Very well, my lord.’

‘Then hire a chaise for tomorrow morning. We will be on the road betimes.’

‘Yes, my lord. Back to Saddleworth, is it?’

‘No. Hadlea in Norfolk. You can go over the route and decide where we will need a change of horses.’

If Farley was surprised at that, he did not comment, but went away to procure an eyepatch.

* * *

Sophie was seated by the window pretending to read, though her thoughts were elsewhere than on her book, and her aunt had gone back to her newspaper, unaware of her niece’s seething emotions. If it had not been for Lord Gorange she could be in prison, accused of stealing her own necklace. She supposed the prison authorities would have allowed her to contact Lady Cartrose, who would have had her released. But, oh, the shame of it! She would have had to explain what she was doing in Ludgate Hill without any sort of escort. Word would have gone back to Jane and Mama and Papa, and they would be so hurt, not only by her behaviour, but Teddy’s, too. As it was she had to rely on Lord Gorange not to tell anyone the real truth. To ensure that she had been forced to say she would think about his proposal.

She
was
thinking, and the more she thought, the more repugnant the prospect became. And if word got out of this latest escapade, how was she ever going to live it down? Viscount Kimberley would be disgusted with her. And somehow that mattered.

As if her thoughts had summoned him, the footman tapped at the door and entered. ‘My lady, Viscount Kimberley enquires if you are at home.’

‘Yes, of course, show him in,’ Emmeline told him.

His lordship was right behind the servant, who stood aside to allow him to enter. He bowed to both ladies. ‘I am heartily glad to see you both here,’ he said. ‘I hope I find you well.’

‘As you see,’ her ladyship answered while Sophie’s heart began to beat uncomfortably fast. She really would have to discipline herself not to react in that way at the mere sight of him. And why had he said he was so pleased they were both there? Did he expect them not to be? Surely he did not know... No, he could not have. Word did not travel that quickly, not even in London.

‘My lord, please be seated,’ her aunt said, remembering the niceties even if Sophie could not. ‘You have just missed Lord Gorange. I do declare that man is forever on our doorstep. Would you like some refreshment? Tea or coffee, perhaps?’

He flung up his tails and took a seat. ‘No, thank you, my lady. I have but recently breakfasted.’

‘What happened to you?’ Sophie asked. She had been looking at the patch on his eye and the cut just above it. He looked as though he had been in a fight. The very thought of it made her tremble. ‘You look like a pirate.’

‘I had a little altercation with a door.’

Why didn’t she believe him? ‘Is that why you did not attend the ball last night?’

‘Yes. Unfortunately I was not fit to be seen.’

‘It looks painful.’

‘It is nothing.’

‘Miss Malthouse was very disappointed.’

‘I am sorry for that. I have written to Mrs Malthouse to apologise.’

‘But you came to explain to us personally.’

‘Yes, but I have other news.’

‘You have found Teddy.’ She sat forward eagerly. ‘Oh, please say you have found him.’

‘I have not exactly found him, but I know where he is.’

‘Oh, thank God! I have been fearing the worst. We must go to him at once. Where is he? Why did he not come home?’

He held up his hand to stop her flow of questions. ‘Hold hard, Miss Cavenhurst, and I will tell you.’

‘I’m sorry.’ She subsided in her chair and waited for him to speak.

‘He had taken refuge in an inn down by the docks. I think it was likely he was waiting to board a ship...’

‘Going back to India,’ she said. ‘He did that once before, but when I asked him only a week ago if that was something he was considering, he said he did not have the money to get there. Perhaps he contrived to find it after all.’