The Notorious Lord Havergal (11 page)

“I was never so taken in in my life,” Violet said quietly.

“Never mind, Violet. He did not succeed in his aim, which was to wheedle his money out of me. Not one penny shall he see till quarter day.”

“And we are going to the ball with them tomorrow evening. I cannot think the evening will be at all pleasant.”

“Don’t be such a peagoose. Of course we are not going to the ball with them.”

“But we’ve arranged the dinner party....”

“We shall have the dinner party. Our guests had to leave early, that is what we shall say.”

Violet shook her head sadly. “And they both offered to help Tom out in London. It seemed like such a wonderful opportunity for him. Crymont is Bathurst’s godson.”

“Crymont is not quite so hateful as Havergal,” Lettie said consideringly, for she was quite as alive as Violet to Tom’s future. “No doubt Havergal put him up to bringing those girls down here. Crymont had no other reason to come, so far as I can see. Yes, certainly Havergal is leading him astray. I shall tell Tom to call on the duke when he goes up to London but to stay well away from the viscount.”

“Do you really think you should leave Havergal’s bags at the door, Lettie? That seems a bit harsh.”

“I’d like to burn them and throw him on top of the blaze. I never imagined such a deceitful character existed in the whole world. And to think, I was nearly in tears when he said I was old.”

“Did he indeed say so?” Violet gasped. “Now, that does not sound like Havergal. He is a trifle wild to be sure, but not
mean.”

“I’m sorry, Miss Beddoes!” Lettie remembered his quick sympathy when he had offended her by saying the simple truth. Something deep within her wanted to find an excuse to forgive him, but common sense prevailed. A hasty word, spoken without thinking, was one thing. But the rest of it, the girls at the inn and the wine—they had been planned in advance. This whole trip had been arranged both for his convenience and for the purpose of conning his money out of her. He wanted her to break her faith to Horace. And even for this one visit, he couldn’t do without his debaucheries. The man was a villain. A handsome face wasn’t enough to expiate for that.

Miss FitzSimmons was much of a mind to be in her bedroom with the door locked when Lord Havergal returned to find his servants and cases awaiting him on the doorstep. Lettie had no such intention. “I shall be in the saloon with a poker in my hands, ready to fight him off with force if he tries to weasel his way back in,” she announced.

“I cannot think he will do anything of the sort.”

“We have underestimated his gall before,” Lettie said coldly. “I shan’t do it again.”

In any case she wished to hear what he had to say when her message was delivered. This required opening the window an inch, which in turn required wrapping up in a shawl as the night air was chilly. At midnight, they decided to wait in the dark, for Lettie would not give him the satisfaction of knowing he was keeping them up. Violet remained on the scene, with the intention of holding Lettie in check, though she knew perfectly well how ineffectual she would be in a crisis. By one o’clock she was sound asleep, and by two, Lettie had begun to nod off herself.

After waiting up for hours, she missed the initial encounter between Havergal and his waiting servants. Cuttle and Crooks were surprised to see their master approach the front door so early as two o’clock, and relatively sober, too. They were less so themselves. Miss Beddoes had commanded them to remove the wine, and their stomachs seemed the best place to put it.

“What the devil are you two doing out here?” Havergal demanded in surprised accents.

“Waiting for you. We’re leaving,” Cuttle replied,

“Leaving! What happened?” He laughed. “Did Miss Beddoes catch you pinching the maids?”

It was Havergal’s speaking her name that roused Lettie from her doze. She sat bolt upright and moved to the open window to listen from her place

“There’s none worth pinching,” Cuttle replied.

“Did you leave the door on the latch as I asked?” Havergal inquired.

“She locked and bolted it after us.”

Havergal felt the first spurt of alarm. “Who did?”

“Cook.”

“Ah, then you
were
pinching the servants. Never mind, I’ll cross Cook’s palm with silver in the morning. Come along. We’ll have to get in by a window somehow. And for God’s sake, be quiet. We don’t want to waken Miss Beddoes.”

Miss Beddoes was wide-awake and listening avidly. Bribing her own servants! Was nothing beneath this creature?

“Did you leave my bedroom window open?” Havergal asked.

“I closed it after you slipped out. I was to leave the front door on the latch for you.”

“Damn! I’ll have to slip around to the kitchen and rouse a servant. Crooks, get those rigs back in the stable, and be quiet about it.”

Cuttle rose on unsteady legs. “She said she wanted you out, bag and baggage. Miss Beddoes did.”

“Miss Beddoes!” Havergal exclaimed. An accomplished oath rent the air. Then he said more mildly, “Damn the woman. You’d best tell me exactly what happened.”

“She called me down. Asked where you was. I told her.”

“You
told
her! Cuttle, you mawworm!”

“She weaseled it out of me.”

“I wager your being three sheets to the wind made it easy. She knows I went to the inn, then. I’ll tell her I had an emergency message from Crymont. Say his groom delivered it to Crooks, and I didn’t mention it as I didn’t wish to disturb her. Yes, that’ll have to do, and count on an air of innocent bravado to carry it off. I’d best use the front door.”

He stepped forward without an instant’s hesitation and lifted the knocker. Lettie sat, dumbfounded at what she had just heard. Her first thought was to ignore his knocking and go up to bed. Before she had roused Violet, the knock came again more loudly. It continued, growing more forceful by the second. She pulled her shawl about her and stalked to the front door, poker in hand. She threw the door open wide and glared at him.

He essayed a conning smile and said, “Miss Beddoes. I am most dreadfully sorry to disturb you at this hour.”

“Well you might be, Lord Havergal.”

“An emergency arose. I had to dash to the inn to help Crymont—”

“I have already heard the explanation with which you mean to con me.”

He blinked and frowned, and finally continued uneasily with his explanation. “My groom brought me a message from Crymont’s groom....”

“No, milord. You arranged with the duke to steal out of my house for a clandestine meeting with lightskirts at the inn. I know this stunt would pass as a joke in London, another squib in the journals for the
ton
to snicker over, but this is not London. We have higher standards here. The behavior of a lady’s houseguest reflects on the hostess. I do not wish to have you under my roof, smuggling wine to my servants, lying, and making a scandal of yourself. To think, I invited the
vicar
to meet you!” she finished, aghast to think of it.

As the first shock subsided, Havergal began trying to think of a polite way out of this morass. As she had discovered about the lightskirts, there seemed little point denying it, so he tried to paint the meeting in less crimson hues. “It was just a friendly meeting. A few hands of cards.”

“I am, of course, not so well versed in debauchery as yourself, but I do not believe a gentleman has lightskirts delivered from London for the purpose of playing cards,” she said ironically. “You couldn’t do without them for
one night!
I was used to think the journals exaggerated about your carrying on, for I could not believe that
anyone
was as bad as they made you seem, but I realize now they showed the simple truth.”

Her haughty manner roused his anger, and he answered hotly. “The duke’s friends happened to be passing this way.”

“There was no need for you to bend the rules of hospitality so hard for the duke’s friends. You make the matter worse, not better, by trying to lay the blame in Crymont’s dish.”

“I am not trying—”

“You waste your breath, Lord Havergal. Any gentleman as indiscreet as yourself ought to hire discreet servants. But then I shouldn’t think any self-respecting valet or groom would wish to be in your employ. You are wasting my time and your own. Go back to your harlot. You aren’t spending another minute under my roof.”

She pushed the door closed. Havergal’s hand went out spontaneously to stop it. He had realized the first instant she opened her lips that he hadn’t a ghost of a chance of getting his money. It was merely his anger and frustration that he wished to vent now. “That, at least, is a relief,” he charged angrily. “I did not come here with any expectation of enjoying myself, but—”

“I know why you came! To try by lies and guile and deceit to extract money before it is due. To take what remains of your fortune and fritter it away on gambling and whoring and God knows what other depravities. Not one penny shall you have. If it were within my powers, I would deny you even your interest.”

“I know it very well!” His eyes smoldered, and his nostrils flared. “Any sort of pleasure is anathema to a woman like you. But for all your fine talk, you were not so immune to the flattery and flirtation of a duke. You would have liked well enough to strut into the assembly on his arm. You were eager to flaunt me before your friends this morning as well. I soon realized why you were determined to get me to the village.”

“And I realize why you were so eager to keep me out of it! I did not know then that your advantages are limited to a handsome face, sir. I’ll be the laughingstock of the village, for it would take more than a title to clothe you in respectability. I dislike your cousin’s decision to make me your testamentary guardian, but I see it was necessary he saddle someone with the unenviable task, for you are no more to be trusted than a monkey. My only regret is that I am the unfortunate victim.”

“We are both victims in the matter. It has been no pleasure for me, having my tail under your foot. My cousin’s choice could hardly have been worse. You don’t know how to enjoy life yourself and are determined that no one else shall.”

“You call what you do enjoying life? You don’t even know what life is all about, no matter if you have read a little philosophy. You aren’t enjoying life, Lord Havergal, you are avoiding it, trying to prolong your childhood into old age. No sense of responsibility, no thought for your future, your character, or your family. I would as lief be guardian to a moonling. In fact, I should prefer it, for at least a moonling has some excuse for his foolish behavior.”

“If it is odious to you, I suggest you assign the task of guardian to some objective party,” he retaliated, stinging at her attack.

“Someone you can bring around your thumb, you mean. No, Lord Havergal, you are stuck with me, and I am stuck with you, but there is no necessity for further meetings between us. You will receive your quarterly interest and not a penny more till you are thirty. Then you may squander it without bothering my conscience.”

Havergal was nearly beyond speech, but he gathered his wits for a last tirade. “You remind me forcibly of an unsavory schoolmaster I once had. How he enjoyed waving his ruler. Give a petty character a little power, and it goes to his head. Don’t worry, I shan’t trouble you again about this pittance of mine that is temporarily in your control.”

“If it is such a pittance, it is strange that you make regular attempts to get hold of it,” she retorted.

“As I said, I shan’t trouble you again.”

He stood back and made an elegant bow, his eyes just glancing off the poker in her hand. “That weapon is unnecessary, ma’am. I never strike a lady, however strong the temptation.”

“Something new for you to resist a temptation!” she said, and slammed the door in his face. She went on trembling knees back to the saloon. Violet slept soundly through it all. Lettie heard Havergal stride to the carriage. She heard him bark a few angry commands to his servants, heard the carriages roll down the drive, and sank onto the sofa, exhausted, still holding the poker. She didn’t light the lamps, as she wanted concealment. She wasn’t crying, but her eyes felt moist from the aftermath of the ordeal.

She was spent, but she had said what she wished to say and didn’t regret a word of it. This should put an end to Havergal’s importunities. She need not examine the mail for a franked letter every time it was handed to her. She need not go in fear that Havergal discover L. A. Beddoes was a lady. He knew it now, but she doubted he would try to put anything over on her again.

She jiggled Violet’s elbow and said, “He’s gone, Violet. We can retire now.”

Violet sat up, yawning. “Oh, did you speak to him?”

“Yes.”

“What did he say?”

“Just the sort of thing we expected, but I put him straight. We’ll discuss it in the morning. Let us go upstairs now.” She put away the poker and closed the window, all in the dark, then assisted Violet, who was still half-asleep, upstairs.

Lettie thought sleep would come easily now that she had settled the troublesome question of Lord Havergal. She regretted that her dinner party and the assembly would be without its two noble guests. A duke and a viscount would have added a certain dash to them. Havergal was right about one thing. She had enjoyed taking him on the strut. How her friends had stared! And how they would gossip when word of the lightskirts made the rounds.

As to the rest of his tirade, it was pure nonsense. Saying she didn’t know how to enjoy life. She took what enjoyment she could from the small society of the neighborhood. Not everyone had a fortune, a title, and all of London at her feet. She allowed that such perquisites might be enough to turn a young man’s head. But that was no excuse for profligacy on the scale practiced by Lord Havergal.

* * * *

Lord Havergal felt more shame than anger by the time he was in his carriage and on his way to the village. He decided not to put up at the Royal Oak with Crymont. No point adding to the gossip that was no doubt already in circulation. He could disassociate himself somewhat from Cherry and Iona if he at least put up at a different inn. He was the only one who was actually staying with the Beddoes and whose behavior reflected directly on the household.