The Rake's Redemption (8 page)

It made no difference. Father mumbled on about Jeremy’s death and his need to protect his younger son. Annoyingly he seemed disposed to credit Thomas Stainford not just with rescuing John from his attackers, but also as the best hope of stopping John embarking for Spain. No matter how Judith sought to explain to him the folly of placing any trust in the Viscount Alsbury father would not be shaken from his belief in the man. Judith was almost tempted to tell him that Thomas’ own father had disinherited him for his behaviour, but she couldn’t bring herself to it.

Even the eagerly awaited visit from Amara Guilmor was spoiled. Not because Amara was obsessed with John’s playacting, she dismissed his predicament as the type of mishap that attends a life less than virtuous. It was Thomas Stainford Amara wanted to talk about. Specifically his virtues and potential, while making light of his disinheriting. Worse she was infuriatingly reluctant to discuss the Earl’s reasons for punishing his eldest son. Not even Aunt Matilde, a girlhood friend of Amara, had any luck in prying out what lay behind that dramatic turn of events.

On the subject of what a fine match the disinherited major was Amara and Matilde made common cause. Judith knew herself outmatched with the two of them conspiring against her, and simply closed down the conversation every time they tried to explain that Thomas still had family money of his own and would probably make his way to a fresh title by his own efforts with the army.

A fairytale, she knew that, but it was still vexing that the two of them were so confident in their matchmaking. It was as though they expected his return to bring her to life like a seed in spring. For two sensible women who knew her well it was a surprising mistake. She’d been foolish enough once to believe the promise of a candlelit ball and mad morning gallops. She never would again, no matter how much his overly indulgent godmother inveigled her.

Only one thing that Amara revealed brought Judith satisfaction. Apparently Thomas was spitting over the review, counting it a disruptive waste of time when the men should be training hard at drill and musketry. That at least was something to take consolation in, and Judith made herself a note that when she saw Thomas she would play up her delight at having the review arranged for her by Sir Theodore. It might not be kind and father would undoubtedly disapprove, but there was satisfaction in it that was in short supply everywhere else.

Amara and Aunt Matilde weren’t the only ones playing matchmaker. John, perhaps in the mistaken belief that his injuries afforded him a measure of protection from her tongue, was pushing Theodore Horsley at her as husband material. Worse, he was working insidiously on father, trying to persuade him of the advantage of an alliance with such a wealthy family. She knew that John’s financial troubles, the ones father and Aunt Matilde still wouldn’t discuss with her, had to be at the root of this, but how to force any of them to divulge what was happening?

John was evasive when she challenged him, lying easily and hinting at further danger for him unless she were to help him. Not above playing on father’s fears either and Judith hated him more for that than for his willingness to sacrifice her happiness to save himself. Though quite how that was supposed to work was obscure unless it was simply a question of money. How much was Sir Theodore prepared to pay for a bride with lineage? Or should that be how much was John prepared to sell his sister for?

There was a hateful level of duplicity underlying all this that made her deeply unhappy. So much so that to avoid more matchmaking Judith didn’t return Amara’s visit, though normally that would have been a high point for her. She couldn’t even vent her feelings by having a blazing row with John since that would upset father and bring Aunt Matilde down on her head. That left her to stew until the day of the review rolled round.

~

If Judith was concerned to avoid an open argument Amara Guilmor saw no need whatsoever to emulate her. “Foolish, Thomas, just foolish. I cannot understand what you were thinking.”

Since Thomas was more concerned to steer his godmother from the subject than explain his motives he was handicapped in refuting her accusation.

“The stories circulating you would not believe. Guilmor says it was the talk of the army and then Horseguards for weeks. Small wonder that George has acted.”

His father would believe every bit of tittle tattle without hesitation. Discussing the issue rationally with his eldest son would never have crossed his mind. Presumably he’d only waited this long to disinherit to see if Thomas would save him the trouble by dying of his wounds first.

“Why anyone would want to go to a frontier village in the middle of a war for an assignation defies belief. Out of the way I suppose.”

Thomas couldn’t fault his godmother’s logic, that forsaken little hill village would never have been a destination of choice for the fashionable officers and their ladies. Unless they had a secret to keep. That it had been the objective of a far ranging patrol of French hussars on that morning was just ill luck. No one could have expected that.

“Jane was always flighty.”

Again he couldn’t argue. His sister in law was a pretty girl, the kind to catch any man’s eye and she knew it. Once she’d snared her husband and her title she still had to find a way to fill her time. And perhaps she regretted that Charles was only the Earl’s younger son. She certainly gave every impression of that.

“George was unfair to ask you to look after Charles.”

As a godmother Amara Guilmor was an exemplar. She had always turned up for birthdays with the right present, the one that a little chap didn’t know he needed until it came and then could not put down. There had always been something for Charles too, though strictly speaking that was unnecessary. Trefoyle for holidays was heaven, even before Judith Hampton. And she’d protested his father’s decision that he transfer to the regular army in Spain to look after Charles when Jane had persuaded his brother to seek martial glory and excitement.

“If Charlotte had lived she would never have allowed it.”

Amara spoke her mind a little too freely sometimes. Thomas could feel the nip of emotion at the thought of how things might have been had his adored mother lived. Maybe his father would not have descended into black rage whenever he was stymied, maybe Charles could have been guided to better choices instead of indulged. “She didn’t.”

“Quite right, Thomas. So no sense wasting time on what might have been. Or why you thought to take Jane to that place.”

It had never been his decision, Jane had chosen the setting for her assignation, but only an ill mannered lout would think to point that out, and Thomas was not about to damage her reputation any further. Besides she’d already paid for her indiscretion in fear and shame.

The sight of his sister in law being driven down the mean Spanish street by a French cavalryman to join the rest of the captured women in the village square was one he’d never wished to see. The fellow alternated between swatting her backside with the flat of his sabre to urge her into a run and trying to hook the point of his weapon into the drawstring of the cotton drawers that constituted Jane’s only covering. No doubt with the intention of cutting them away to leave her naked. But it had been the hussar’s laughter as Jane clutched at herself to try and cover her bare breasts that had incensed Thomas.

He’d shot the man off his horse without thinking how he was to tackle the other twenty troopers who’d come looking to avenge their comrade. Only the arrival of a squadron of the King’s German Legion alerted by partisans to the intrusion of the French this far into allied territory had saved his life. As the Hanoverian horsemen butchered the surprised French before they could settle to their debauchery Thomas trusted to the protection of his scarlet jacket and wrapped his cloak round the woman it had been his responsibility to protect.

“At least you had the courage to delope. You were quite right to do so, Thomas.”

There had been no way to hide the circumstances of their rescue and the story quickly ran round the army. Good scandal always did. Charles had been left no choice but to call his brother out. If poor, weak Charles had been able to control his wife this would never have happened. As it was all that Thomas could do for him was to choose pistols and discharge his weapon harmlessly into the ground. He could never have aimed at the blond head that reminded him so readily of his mother. Charles in his humiliation and anger was far more vengeful.

“If you can, don’t blame your father too much, Thomas. Till this happened he was proud of you. Your success in Portugal and Spain helped him put away some of his bitterness. He was pleased to learn of your decorations and mentions in dispatches. That can’t have been easy for him. His war was squalid and bitter and unsuccessful. There were no medals for a losing war, especially one that was merely to subdue a revolt by colonists.”

“I doubt I’ll be seeing him for the question to arise.”

“Perhaps not, but you’ve given no explanation, no apology. Nothing for your family to feel they might forgive in time.”

“Charles put his bullet into my chest, Amara. Little chance of forgiveness there.”

“Perhaps, but there is the way of being too proud, too unbending to admit when you are wrong. I would loathe to see you set any further on that road. There is comfort in trust and love.”

Thomas realised she was talking about Judith Hampton as much as his family right about then. His godmother was nothing if not persistent and she had been unable to resist returning to the subject at regular intervals ever since she’d come down to Trefoyle.

“There is little point, godmother dear, in reopening that subject. Judith has made his wishes clear, and I shall respect them.” He’d made no bones about telling his godmother of Judith’s failure to respond to his letters, even when he had written to her after her brother’s death. Nor had he hidden the terms in which she’d written to him telling him not to correspond with her. None of that appeared to put the slightest dent in Amara’s optimism for them. He hadn’t revealed that he had made Judith an offer of marriage, in case Amara Guilmor jumped to the correct conclusion on why he had felt that necessary when Judith Hampton plainly couldn’t stand the sight of him. At the least he owed Judith his discretion.

‘I’ve grown fond of the girl, Thomas. Every time I see her it strikes me how right she is for you. It’s not that you carry a flame for Jane is it?” Taking his silence as assent. “I thought not. That girl was merely a mistake. Judith will endure. Guilmor has been a great comfort to me all our lives together. Oh, he works too hard on the government’s business that would slide along well enough with less effort and does not deserve his time as much as I, but I would not be without him. I would wish the same for you, my dear. And for Judith.”

“Perhaps Judith deserves better than a disinherited officer for her husband?” Hard not to sound self pitying but Amara needed to remember his changed circumstances.

“Nonsense. You have your grandfather’s money and Guilmor and I intend a sizeable bequest for you. You are the nearest we have to a child of our own. So you and Judith would be quite comfortable. In any case the girl makes do with far less now at her father’s. So stuff and nonsense. What you need to do is work out how to win her round, Thomas. Before somebody else beats you to it.”

Despite Amara Guilmor’s confidence Thomas filed the instruction away as impracticable. Judith had made quite clear the place he held in her life now and there was no point in harking back to the past. On that one thing Amara was right, there was no sense wasting time on what might have been. Besides Judith deserved better than someone who hurt all those around him with monotonous regularity.

Judith found the journey to the barracks extremely uncomfortable as the Hamptons’ coach lurched its way down muddy roads. The break in the prolonged spell of fine, sunny days could not have been worse timed for the review. Two days of rain had turned fields into quagmires and roads into rutted tracks. Even the hope that the review might be cancelled was a double edged comfort, part of her wanted to see the review successful and Thomas Stainford brought down a peg. So Judith stared out of a smeary coach window at the drenched countryside and tried to ignore, as adroitly as her father was doing, John’s whines about not taking part in the review.

It was a relief to step down from the coach, though the state of the militia was not encouraging. Officers and men alike resembled nothing so much as bedraggled rats. Thomas stood out in the little knot of officers, not just by virtue of the oiled cape and waxed shako cover that kept him dry, but by his air of self possession. He looked as detached as though he were a naturalist set down amongst some particularly interesting specimens. His nod to her, gravely courteous as it was, still conveyed the message that Judith and he were the two sane people among the absurdity of all the others.

As Judith watched the reception committee swarm towards her, headed by Sir Theodore and his mother she had to concede he might have a point. The way some of the ladies skidded on the sodden grass demonstrated a misplaced preference for fashion, and made her grateful for the practical streak that had led her to wear boots under her walking dress. Whatever else this ill starred day brought she would have warm, dry feet. Unlike most of the guests.

“Such a pity, Judith. For the weather to break like this.” Sir Theodore was merely effusive in his manner she decided. Bustling, eager, and just a little too formally polite. Probably because he wasn’t quite sure of himself. Not in the least offensive though, and that he was trying so hard to please was quite endearing. He stood beaming and chattering and just a little awkward, obviously working hard to make his conversation as clever as he could.

His mother, close behind him, was less easy to forgive for her boastful ways. “You simply must sit by me, Miss Hampton. I’m sure it will dry up in a moment or so, and then it will be the most wonderful parade. Theo is so looking forward to showing what the militia can do.”

There was a catch to Lady Horsley’s voice as if she were demanding approval from her listener, and Judith felt she had to say something to ease the woman’s tension.

“I hope so, Lady Horsley. I am looking forward to seeing the result of all the training that has been going on.” It should have been a safe answer, it was meant as nothing else, but a nerve had been directly, if accidentally hit.

“That Major is a martinet. He cares nothing for the men’s comfort nor for Theodore’s expense. Firing practice day after day, and drill. He says the Volunteers need more training, but they already stand so smartly and make such marvellously straight lines. And their uniforms will get dull if he has them out in the rain every day.” Lady Horsley ceased her diatribe abruptly as the ogre himself approached unbidden.

“Lord Hampton, Lady Tresham, Judith. Welcome to the dampest review since the navy celebrated Trafalgar day.” Thomas ignored the snort that greeted his words, and the shoulder so ostentatiously turned on him. He didn’t need to mind Florinda Horsley when Matilde Sinclair was perfectly capable of singing his praises in far too fulsome a way.

“Lady Horsley, you’ll have heard how the Major single handedly fought off the three ruffians who attacked John. Goodness knows what might have become of my nephew otherwise.”

Judith looked round so see if the nephew in question was courteous enough to express his gratitude for himself, but John had used the distraction of the Horsleys to sidle off and join the other officers. No matter, her father was equal to the task.

“I am deeply grateful, Thomas. We owe you much for your courage.” Less voluble than his sister, Lord Hampton was no less enthusiastic and Judith could feel her toes curl with embarrassment.

Thomas bowed to acknowledge the sentiment, and when he looked up it was to smile directly at her. “I trust you will enjoy the review, Judith. If I can be of any service.” Then he was gone with a look that seemed to convey an apology for depriving her of his company. As if she wanted him to stay.

“Loathsome man.” Judith was struck by the inadvisability of Lady Horsley’s remark, even though it reflected her own opinion of Thomas’ assurance. Father looked startled too, and beside her she could see Aunt Matilde starting to gird up for battle.

“I must have misheard you, Lady Horsley. Did you mean the Major?” As a tactic it was merely stop gap, but it provided enough relief for Matilde to cease her preparations for war. “Will his training form the basis of the review?”

“Certainly not, Judith. Theo will direct the review. It is after all his regiment. And do please call me Lady Florinda. We are after all close neighbours, and I hope will become closer yet.” Florinda Horsley’s smile would have curdled milk, and it was all Judith could do not to recoil. But she could see Matilde about to launch a salvo and guessed it might contain a rebuke for the abuse of titles such as Lady Florinda for one who was merely the widow of a baronet and not the daughter of an earl or duke. So she gritted her teeth and steered Lady Horsley towards the canvas canopy sheltering the spectators’ seats.

The operation to seat all the guests took an age whilst the disconsolate troops stood drowning under the continuous rain. Every time Judith looked up she seemed to catch Thomas Stainford’s amused glance. He obviously had little to do with arranging the review, and was deriving a deal of amusement from the lengthy delay before the parade proper could get under way.

“It will be nuncheon soon, Judith will it not?” Matilde Sinclair had not forgiven Florinda Horsley for her unguarded remark, and Judith could see the woman’s shoulders twitch at the hardly veiled criticism. “I do hope there is hot food in this wretched weather.”

The parade when it came was dismal, the troops shuffling past rather than striding out, all out of step, officers and men quite obviously desperate to get out of the rain. Despite her resolve to ignore him, Judith couldn’t help herself but to look for Thomas’ reaction to the sorry spectacle. He was tight lipped with disapproval, but said nothing until Sir Theodore dismissed the parade and waved the officers toward the mess for nuncheon.

“Company officers will attend to their men before partaking of their meal. I want every man to have a hot meal within forty minutes. See to it gentlemen.” Thomas’ voice rang out clearly to the stunned consternation of officers and guests alike. Virtually every face turned to Sir Theodore in disbelief. If that individual considered contradicting the order he didn’t show it. Shoulders hunched, carefully avoiding his mother’s eye, he led the way silently into the mess.

So Judith sat down to a more intriguing meal than she had anticipated. As befitted his military rank Thomas was sitting two seats down from Sir Theodore, and she was seated between the two men, right opposite Lady Horsley. At least the arrangement had the effect of keeping Aunt Matilde away from ‘
Lady Florinda’.
Bloodshed might yet be avoided.

“Are you recovered yet from your wound, Major?” Mrs Anne Lacey on Thomas’ other side was blond, plump and coy, and seemed rather overimpressed by Major Stainford.

“Very nearly, Mrs Lacey. How kind of you to think of me.” There was no doubt in Judith’s mind that he was laughing at the woman, but nothing in his manner nor his tone would have given Anne Lacey to guess that.

“We must be grateful to officers who risk so much.” Anne Lacey’s melting tone and manifest sympathy was cloying, and Judith stepped in to change the subject.

“Are the Spanish capable of fighting the French effectively, Major?”

“They can be brave, and as guerillos formidable. But the Juntas do not cooperate with the Peer, so opportunities are lost. And the French are ruthless adversaries.”

“Do you mean they do not fight as gentlemen, Major?” Sir Theodore’s indignation was almost comic.

“There’s very little gentleness about war, Sir Theodore. It is a foul business.”

“Yet men honour war do they not, Major?” Anne Lacey still seemed determined to ingratiate herself.

“A business may be foul, Mrs Lacey, yet a man may perform his duty with honour.” Thomas Stainford’s careful reply might have been calculated to provoke Judith.

“Duty. And honour. Do these bring satisfaction, Major Stainford?” Judith’s question was too obviously barbed and the discomfort round the table was palpable. Especially when Thomas failed to answer her.

“It is certainly a source of great satisfaction to the ladies of this country that your wounds have brought you back here, Major.” Judith decided that Anne Lacey had no decorum to flirt so openly in front of her husband. She couldn’t sit and listen to this. The trouble was she’d already fired her volley without appreciable result.

“Your return must have been desolating for the ladies of Spain.” The words were too obviously flat and Thomas merely raised his wine glass as if to toast her, and smiled.

Which smile had the unfortunate effect of unleashing Anne Lacey yet again. “Will you return to the Peninsula once you are fully recovered, Major?”

“Only if I am able to tear myself from such charming companions.”

Judith couldn’t help scowling at how Mrs Lacey simpered at even this weak effort. What was wrong with the woman’s husband that he would allow her to make such a fool of herself? At least Thomas Stainford had fallen silent after his pathetic attempt at gallantry. Maybe the man thought he had exerted himself sufficiently for provincial society.

“The rain appears to be easing, Sir Theodore.” Judith was watching Thomas as she spoke for some reaction, but he disappointed her. Sir Theodore however rose to the occasion.

“That will make this afternoon more enjoyable for the men, Judith. And I think we will try some more exciting manoeuvres to amuse our guests.”

Judith couldn’t help smiling to herself at Sir Theodore’s pronouncement. He was like a toad puffing out its chest. She dismissed the thought as unkind and turned to Thomas. “What do you think, Major?”

Thomas turned to her with a warning look on his face which Judith chose to meet with her sweetest smile, but before she could renew her question Theodore Horsley intervened.

“I shall be pleased to demonstrate our proficiency in forming square this afternoon, Judith.” Theodore Horsley managed to imbue her name with more significance than she would have believed possible, but it was Thomas’ eyebrows that really amazed her. They shot up like startled rabbits giving Judith the chance to push him a little further.

“Do you not think the Volunteers will be proficient, Major?” It was an impossible question and Judith delighted in asking it. She could see Aunt Matilde favouring her with an old fashioned look, but she wasn’t about to be dissuaded.

“Proficiency is a product of practice and skill, Miss Hampton. I shall look forward to this afternoon’s demonstration.” As he spoke Thomas was looking not at Judith, but directly at Sir Theodore, who appeared at that moment to find his plate absorbing. Not so Florinda Horsley.

“My son’s regiment will not disappoint us. Under Theodore’s command.” The edge to her voice as she emphasised the fact that the volunteers belonged to her son was enough to make most of the people at the table uncomfortable.

“Of that I am sure, madam.” Thomas said the words with a firmness that could have been taken for sincerity except that Judith saw the tell tale flicker in his eyes. Inexplicably the evidence that Thomas Stainford was still as disrespectful to the pompous as he had ever been, pleased her. She should have been censorious, but she wanted to laugh out loud at his reply.

“That’s settled then. This afternoon, Judith, I shall have the Volunteers demonstrate their defence against cavalry. “ Lady Horsley beamed at this proof of her son’s preternatural intelligence, but though Judith smiled at the news as though impressed, she couldn’t resist sneaking a look at Thomas. He was sitting stony faced, but caught her look and very deliberately winked.

Judith quickly turned back to Theodore Horsley. “I shall look forward to it, Colonel.” Lady Horsley’s smile widened appreciably to see how well her son was appreciated. She kept smiling as the Volunteers were drawn up in their companies. The rain had ceased and there was some revival of spirits evident in the lines of red jacketed men. Even drenched their uniforms had the virtue of newness so that the marching companies looked impressive. Drawn up in line three deep the battalion looked a powerful instrument of war.

Sir Theodore certainly thought so for he turned to Judith with a confident smirk “Just watch them form square, my dear.” Unfortunately his command for the manoeuvre to commence marked the last coherent action of the militia. From then on it wasn’t clear what was meant to be happening. Some officers were bellowing instructions forcibly while others stood clearly at a loss. Some of the companies tried to force their way through their neighbours when they found their path blocked with the inevitable result of losing all order. No matter how the officers and sergeants tried the parade quickly deteriorated into scattered groups of men looking anxiously about them for some clue as to where they should be or what they should do next.

Most of the guests looked thoroughly relieved when Florinda Horsley suggested they return to the officer’s mess for further refreshments. Quite clearly none of them believed that the manoeuvre would be completed and some of them drifted away to their carriages in the belief that there would no point in staying to see any further manoeuvres attempted. Judith couldn’t bring herself to face Thomas Stainford’s inevitable gloating or the bad temper being exhibited so copiously around the reviewing stand.