Chapter Sixteen

‘There.’ Jack signed his name with a flourish and handed the paper back to his lawyer.

‘Send that off immediately, Mr Simmons, and my steward can implement the changes. It should reassure my tenants that I have no wish to force them out of their homes.’

‘And this, sir?’ Simmons held up another signed paper. ‘It’s a bad time to be selling your bonds, Lord John.’

‘I can do without the interest they bring in, but my people cannot live without more help.’

‘Well, ’tis very generous of you, sir, but I fear it may not go down well with the other landowners in the area.’

‘Perhaps not, but I am concerned that those on my estates should not suffer unduly from these high prices. It will do me little good in the long run if they get into debt.’

‘A pity everyone is not as liberal-spirited as you, my lord,’ remarked the lawyer, carefully folding the documents. ‘Then we might not have such unrest in the country. There’s some as want to use the grievances to stir up the people.’

‘There always will be such people,’ replied Jack, rising. ‘It never takes much to rouse the mob.’

‘Aye, and they are having some success in this present time, my lord. Only two weeks ago there was a meeting held in Clerkenwell. Vast crowds turned up, around ten thousand I am told. Quite an event it was, and peaceful in the main. Although I heard Lord Castlereagh’s windows were broken.’

‘Well, I have done what I can for my people,’ Jack said curtly. ‘Others must look to their own conscience.’

Jack took his leave. He had not meant to be so abrupt with his lawyer, but his head was still full of Sabrina. Confound it, since he had left her in Brook Street yesterday, she was never out of his thoughts. Simmons mentioning rabble-rousers reminded him of that fellow at the Punch Bowl she had been talking with. Dr Watson. Unless he was very much mistaken, that was someone she should avoid.

‘None of your business,’ he told himself, as he set off back to Albany. ‘She told you as much, so forget the matter!’

Yet he could not forget it. Something was nagging at his mind as his coach rattled through the streets. And when he returned to his rooms he went directly to his sitting room and looked through the invitations wedged into the frame of the looking glass above the mantelshelf.

It did not take him long to find what he was looking for, and a few hours later, washed and dressed in his finest evening clothes, Lord John Callater strolled into the ballroom of Deanham House, where he was greeted rapturously by the host.

‘Jack, you old rogue, where the devil have you been hiding?’ demanded Lord Deanham. ‘We had quite given up hope of seeing you.’

‘I was snowbound, Jerry,’ he replied, his eyes wandering over the assembled crowd. ‘Tedious business, but there it is.’

‘Aye, dashed nuisance that. But you are here now, and ready to dance, I hope? My wife will not forgive me if I let you go straight off to play cards.’

‘Of course.’ Jack made an elegant bow. ‘Always ready to oblige.’

It was some time and several dances later that Jack was able to slip off to the card room, where he joined a group of young bucks standing in one corner. He exchanged greetings and spent some time conversing with them before he turned to the business that had brought him here.

‘I have a fancy to go to Brooks’s,’ he remarked, taking a glass of wine from the tray of a passing waiter. ‘Is anyone here a member?’

‘Devil a bit, Callater,’ cried Hugh Claverham, a black-haired individual in a nip-waisted coat. ‘Watier’s is the place to go now, don’t you know!’

Jack smiled. ‘Indulge me.’

‘Oldroyd is a member, I think,’ drawled another of the group. ‘Bertie, you still go to Brooks’s, don’t you?’

Mr Oldroyd pulled a face. ‘Rarely.’

‘But you could introduce me?’ Jack persisted.

‘I could, if that is really what you want?’

Jack gave the dandy his most charming smile. ‘It is!’

Sabrina put down her embroidery and looked at the clock. It was almost time to change for dinner, thank heavens. She had been back in London two full days now, and time had never dragged so slowly. She had kept herself busy all day, spending an hour that morning discussing menus with her housekeeper before penning a letter to Mary Steadmarsh. She had also practised at the pianoforte and read several chapters of Glenarvon, but even Lady Caroline Lamb’s salacious portraits of Society’s leaders could not distract her for very long.

There were numerous invitations on the mantelshelf, and she toyed with the idea of going out. It was not too late; she could still go out to one of the many parties, if she so wished, but she did not. She was determined not to go back to that old life, providing fodder for the gossip mongers. She would find something more to do with her life.

She went up to her room, where she found her maid laying out her gown for the evening.

‘Jane, what would you say if I said I was going abroad?’

‘I’d say that’s very sudden, ma’am.’

‘Yes, well, I am bored with town,’ said Sabrina, stepping out of her day gown.

‘Are you now?’

She averted her eyes from the shrewd gaze of her maid.

‘I thought we might go to Europe. Now the war is truly over, I believe many people are travelling again.’

‘Aye, well, I suppose you might as well dance until dawn in Paris as in London.’

Sabrina gave an uncertain laugh. ‘Oh, Jane, do you think me such a sad, frivolous creature?’

‘No, my lady, I think you might be running away.’

Jane was deftly fastening the buttons on the back of her gown, and Sabrina was glad she did not have to hide her consternation. She swallowed.

‘R-running away?’ she asked, trying to sound incredulous. ‘From what?’

‘From the chance of happiness with a good man, Miss Sabrina. Lord John is clearly head over heels for you. Or he would be, if you would let him.’

‘I cannot do that.’ Sabrina twisted her hands together. ‘He does not know everything.’

‘Then tell him.’

‘No. I cannot. Papa—’

‘I don’t think Lord John is one to blab, Miss Sabrina, and if he did, there is no proof now of any wrongdoing. Besides, it’s an old story. I doubt anyone would give it a thought.’

‘I would. And Mama, too,’ replied Sabrina. ‘And Lord John Callater would be obliged to think about it, if he allied himself with my family. The truth would be bound to come out, and he would share in the disgrace.’

‘Well, you should let His Lordship make his own mind up about that,’ replied, Jane, draping a Norwich shawl around Sabrina’s shoulders. ‘Now, you go on down to your dinner and think over what I have said.’

A solitary meal gave Sabrina plenty of time to consider her maid’s words. She refuted the accusation of running away. It was nothing of the sort. She was protecting Jack from making a mistake and saving them both a great deal of heartache. He might think he wanted to marry her, but how could they ever be happy if he knew the truth?

She had sold herself to save her father from a prison sentence. Papa wanted to reform the political system, to protect the poor from rich noblemen like Lord John Callater, heir to the Marquess of Doune. How could they ever be reconciled? Kind as he was, Jack would never understand that she, too, had sympathy with those who wanted change. Then there was her reputation. That was so tainted it would undoubtedly tarnish him, too, and she could not even redeem herself by giving him an heir.

The same arguments went round and round in her head until she went up to bed some hours later.

No, she thought miserably. It was best they went their separate ways.

A blustery, chill December day did not encourage Sabrina to leave the house the following morning, and she was engaged in writing a letter when Lord John Callater was announced. Her pen spluttered, and she was obliged to dry the blots before she could give her attention to her visitor.

‘Good morning, Lady Massyngham.’

She eyed him warily. ‘Why are you here?’

His brows went up. ‘Is that how you greet your visitors?’

‘We agreed that when we returned to London, we would be done with one another.’

‘I do not think that is possible. At least,’ he added quickly, ‘not yet.’

‘Oh?’

She tensed, wondering how best she might escape. Then she reminded herself sternly that she was not some timid creature, ready to flee at the slighted threat. This was her house and she would not be intimidated.

Her chin came up and she gave him a chilly look.

‘I do not believe we have anything more to say to one another.’

‘Now, that is where I disagree with you, Sabrina. I think we have a great deal to discuss.’

He took a step closer and her aloof manner disappeared. ‘Please, Jack, let us not go over this again. We cannot meet without pulling caps.’

‘That is not quite true. We have enjoyed some very pleasant encounters. Have you forgotten?’

The teasing glint in his eye brought a flush to Sabrina’s cheeks. She turned away and walked over to the window.

‘Oh, why are you making this so difficult?’ she muttered, staring out at the street below.

‘Because I do not see any difficulty. Nothing that we cannot resolve.’

A bitter little laugh escaped her.

‘There are things about me that I cannot tell you. About my marriage. My family.’

‘Cannot tell me, or will not?’

Jane’s words came back to Sabrina. She had gone over the arguments for hours last night, but every time she came to the same conclusion. She bowed her head.

‘You must forget me, Jack. I am not worthy of you.’

Staring at Sabrina’s back, Jack could see the dejection in every line of her body, and his heart went out to her. He moved closer.

‘I think that should be my decision, don’t you?

‘But you do not know—’

‘I think I have guessed most of it.’ He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him. ‘I know you did not marry Massyngham for his wealth. He had some hold over your father, did he not?’

Sabrina’s troubled countenance told Jack he was right.

‘I thought at first it might be gambling debts, so I went to Brooks’s. I spent quite some time there, as a matter of fact. I met several of its members who were well acquainted with your father, and I have now discounted that. It was something else.’

She moved away, lifting one hand as if to silence him. But he would not stop now, he would chance everything on a last throw of the dice.

‘It must have been something very serious to make you sacrifice yourself so wholly. I did not speak much with Sir Anthony at Hartland, but it was clear he still holds his liberal views. They might even be called dangerously revolutionary.’

‘No! Papa believes, believed in reform, but he was never a radical.’

‘You told me Dr Watson was a friend of your father’s, as was Henry Hunt.’ Her eyes flew to his face and he allowed himself a slight smile. ‘I heard you asking Watson to give Hunt your regards. I imagine Sir Anthony is also acquainted with Cobbett, who is a renowned advocate of parliamentary reform. Is that not so?’

‘Papa no longer corresponds with any of them.’

She was watching him carefully. She reminded him of a wild animal, ready to bolt. Jack strolled across the room to place himself between Sabrina and the door. He was determined to get to the bottom of this. Confound it, his happiness and Sabrina’s rested on the outcome!

He went on, keeping his tone, calm, conversational. ‘I saw Dr Watson on the night we arrived at the Punch Bowl. He was giving out handbills for the forthcoming meeting and I made a few enquiries. His son James is a well-known firebrand. I also heard that when your father was in London, he was not averse to entertaining the Watsons and their ilk at Russell Square. That is, until your parents moved so suddenly to Devonshire, very soon after your marriage.’ He paused, watching her. ‘It is well known that Massyngham’s settlement upon your marriage was very generous. Talking with those members of Brooks’s who remember Sir Anthony, some of them believe he gave up his radical views to please his powerful new son-in-law. One or two think you persuaded him to do it, in order to secure a rich husband.’

‘No! I would never—’

She stopped herself and Jack said quietly, ‘If you do not want me to speculate, you should tell me the truth, Sabrina.’

She regarded him for a moment, biting her lip, then she sighed. ‘I suppose it cannot matter now, save in your opinion of me.’

One side of his mouth quirked up. ‘I doubt anything will change that very much, now. But you are looking very pale,’ he said, looking closely at her. ‘Perhaps it would be best if we sit down for this.’

She did not protest as he guided her to the sofa and gently pulled her down beside him. He turned slightly so that he could keep his eyes on her face.

‘Now, my dear, tell me everything. In your own time.’

Then he sat back and waited.

Sabrina was silent for a long while, then she began to speak, choosing her words with care.

‘You may remember, when we met, that Papa held a minor post in Government. He was much moved by the plight of the poor and thought this way he might do some good for those less fortunate than ourselves. The smaller landowners, for example, and farm labourers. For some time he had been corresponding with William Cobbett, pledging his support for his efforts to increase wages and reduce taxes. Papa wanted only peaceful protests, petitions and the like, but in some of his letters he mentioned those who visited our house in Russell Square. Men who advocated the use of force.’

‘James Watson, for example?’

‘Yes, amongst others. Poor Papa had never considered the risks of hosting such meetings, even though the government were meting out severe penalties to those they considered revolutionaries. He merely thought he could do some good.’

She paused, staring down at her hands clasped tightly in her lap.

‘What happened?’ He prompted her gently.

‘That year...’ Her eyes flickered briefly on his face. ‘The year I met you, Mama had decided that, despite the expense, I should enjoy a full Season. I was nearing one-and-twenty, and Mama thought if we waited until Papa had risen higher in government it would be too late to find me a suitable husband. She wanted me to make a good match.’

Jack smiled a little. ‘What mother does not want that for their child? So, you had your Season. Is that when you met Sir Roderick?’

‘Yes. We danced a few times, but I never thought... I did not give him any encouragement. Quite the reverse!’

She looked up then, her green eyes pleading with him to understand.

‘I believe you,’ said Jack gently. ‘That would not deter a man like Massyngham.’

‘No, it did not. Cobbett had just been arrested for seditious libel, and somehow, Sir Roderick obtained several of the letters Papa had written to him. He threatened to hand the letters over and expose my father as a dangerous revolutionary. If he had done so, not only would Papa have lost his position, he would have been imprisoned. Unlike Cobbett, he did not have the funds to pay for comfortable quarters in Newgate. I did not realise how much he and Mama had spent upon my come-out. We would have been penniless.’ She clasped her hands together and stared out across the room. ‘I struck a...a bargain with Sir Roderick. I agreed to marry him, in return for his silence. Do you understand now why I did not see you again? Once the betrothal was announced, I was too ashamed to speak with you.’

‘You preferred me, and everyone else, to think you had married Sir Roderick for his wealth.’

‘At the time I had no choice. I could not tell anyone the truth, but you... I would not have been able to lie to you.’ She bowed her head. ‘I am sorry, Jack.’

‘So too am I.’ He thought of the anger he had felt, and six wasted years. ‘What happened to the letters?’

‘Sir Roderick kept them, to ensure my...my compliance. I did not get them back until he died, then I burned them. I told Papa what I had done, but by then they had been in Devon for four years and he had promised Mama that he would not get involved in anything like that again.’

‘And is that everything?’

Is it not enough?

Sabrina wanted to scream the words at him. Their worlds were too different. They could never be reconciled.

‘Yes.’ She rose, not looking at Jack. ‘You see, really, it changes nothing.’

‘Massyngham forced you into marriage. I understand that. But it does not explain your actions once he was dead.’

She schooled her face into a semblance of indifference.

‘He left me a handsome fortune. I decided to enjoy it. I became a wicked widow.’

Heavens, how coolly she could speak, even though inside, her heart was hammering as if it was trying to beat its way out through her ribs.

Muttering an oath, Jack jumped to his feet. ‘That does not make sense! What you told me, that there had been no lovers, that no one but Massyngham had taken you to bed before me...are you saying that was all lies?’

Her eyes slid away from his angry glance, and she pretended to study her reflection in the mirror about the fireplace.

‘I thought it might increase your desire for me. That is all.’

‘And it did, damn you!’ He sucked in a breath, trying to contain his anger. ‘By heaven, madam, you deserve your reputation.’

‘I am surprised you ever doubted it.’ She pushed a stray curl back into place. ‘There, you have heard everything. I would like you to leave now.’

Jack was looking at her, frowning. Sabrina turned back to face him, pinning on a smile, concealing her true thoughts as she had done many times over the years. She could do this! All that was left was to dismiss him, as she had dismissed men so often in the past.

The difference this time was that she knew, beyond doubt, that if Jack reached out for her, if he challenged her to say she did not love him, then her defences would come crashing down.

Sabrina held out her hand, uttering a cool ‘Good day to you.’

She waited, wondering how long she could keep her fingers from shaking. Then it was all over. He ignored her outstretched hand, gave a stiff little bow and left the room without another word.