Chapter Two

 

Sir Harry Blaine was breakfasting when Sothern burst in on him in his lodgings later that morning.

‘Harry, I’ve a good mind to call you out,’ Jake told him, taking a chair and coolly helping himself to a cup of coffee.

Sir Harry blinked at him. ‘What the devil for, old fellow? Wasn’t flirting with Matilda again, was I?’ He frowned in an effort of memory. ‘No, can’t have been. Card party. She wasn’t there.’

Lord Sothern eyed him dispassionately. ‘Yes, I suppose it was too much to hope that you would remember. I had better have gone to Theo.’

‘You may as well tell me all about it now you’re here,’ invited his friend, plunging his fork into another slice of beef, and stuffing it into his mouth.

‘You’re a hog, Harry,’ Jake remarked. ‘You’ll be as fat as a flawn before you’re thirty—with one foot in the grave.’ A reminiscent smile curved his lips. ‘And far too old to marry a young lady of “almost nineteen”.’

Blaine stopped chewing and stared at him. ‘Eh?’

Jake sipped his coffee and stared back imperturbably.

Sir Harry laid his fork down. ‘Now see here, Sothern. I’m hanged if I’ll stand for this. Call me out, by all means. Insult me if you choose. But, by God, if you mean to disturb a plain man’s morning head with your damned riddles...’

‘Steady, steady. You’ll go off in an apoplexy one of these days.’

‘By God, if you don’t—’

Jake threw up a hand. ‘Very well, I’ll tell you in plain words. Does the name Clem Henlow convey anything to you?’

‘Henlow? Henlow? No, can’t say it does,’ said Blaine, resuming his meal.

‘Then try Bow Street?’

Sir Harry gaped. ‘Bow Street?’

‘Bow Street,’ Jake repeated.

‘Good God!’ Sir Harry smote his forehead. ‘Of course! Bow Street. It all comes back to me. Young scoundrel tried to rob us.’

Jake sighed heavily, and leaned back in his chair. ‘Harry, you are not only a hog, you are also a fool. What is worse, you put me in an extremely awkward situation. I have had to lie in my teeth to contradict your uncannily accurate description with an invented one of my own. Fortunately the worthy gentlemen of Bow Street had noted your condition. I forgive you only because you’ve accidentally shed some light on Clementina’s mystery.’

‘Who is Clementina?’ demanded Sir Harry, unmoved by these strictures.

‘Clementina is the “young scoundrel” you went to Bow Street to complain of last night.’

Sir Harry’s jaw dropped. ‘A female? By God, Jake, I must have been badly foxed.’

‘You were.’

Sir Harry frowned. ‘Do you mean to tell me you knew that when you took him in—her, I mean, curse it!’

‘Certainly. It was why I took her in.’

‘You sly devil!’ Blaine burst out laughing. ‘Was she worth it?’

The good humour left Sothern suddenly. ‘It wasn’t like that.’

‘Why not? Not like you to miss an opportunity.’

Jake rose abruptly. He went to the window and stood looking out. Blaine’s words stung. It was true. His reputation had been fairly earned. It was a reasonable assumption that he would take easy advantage of a ripe plum falling into his lap as Clementina had done. Why he had passed it up was a question he had not paused to consider until this moment. For some unaccountable reason this girl was taboo.

Ridiculous, he told himself. She was a child. Genteel, innocent and vulnerable in her dangerous escapade. Only a monster would have taken advantage of her situation. He might be a rake, but he played the game fairly. Never had he taken any woman against her will. He smiled inwardly, a trifle rueful. There had been no need. Until Clementina’s devastatingly frank comment on his advancing years he had never encountered any woman who had shown the least aversion to him. Though no doubt he had as many defects as the next man. But he was no fool. He knew that he was one of the fortunate few who possessed a certain indefinable something that seemed to attract the opposite sex in spite of any imperfections of face or form. It had apparently failed, however, where Clementina was concerned. Perhaps he was getting old.

A familiar figure coming down the street caught his attention. He turned back to Blaine. ‘Here comes Theo. Let us see how his memory serves him.’

Evidently Theodore Farleigh’s memory served him very well. Recalling all the events of the previous evening, he had repaired early to Lord Sothern’s house, and what he had learned there from the porter had sent him hotfoot to Half Moon Street to seek out Sir Harry Blaine.

‘For I knew it must have been you, Harry, who reported the matter to Bow Street, for I had not, and I was sure Sothern could not have done.’

‘You are perfectly right, Theo,’ Jake assured him. ‘And the fugitive from justice is even now fast asleep in bed in my grandmother’s house.’

* * *

 

Clementina was, in fact, sitting up in a large four-poster with its curtains drawn back, consuming bread and butter and tea from a tray on her knees, and gazing wide-eyed at the array of gowns and petticoats Lady Staplegrove was sifting through with the aid of her dresser and the mantua-maker who had brought them all at her ladyship’s bidding.

‘You see, Murray, I was right about the hair,’ declared her ladyship, holding up a muslin half-dress in pale green. ‘Just that hint of red. This will do very well.’

‘Quite right, madam,’ agreed Murray primly.

She was a sour-faced, thin creature who nevertheless had a good heart. She had herself brought up the hot milk to Clementina, and had not only warmed the sheets in the spare room, but had insisted on undressing her and tucking her into bed.

The dressmaker was nodding in vigorous agreement. ‘Mais oui, madame. You have an eye, bien sur.’

The dowager came to the bed, and held the gown against Clementina. ‘There. What did I tell you?’

‘Parfait!’

‘Come on, child, finish that tea and get up quickly so that we may try it on.’

‘But, ma’am, I cannot possibly accept clothes from you,’ Clementina protested.

‘You do not mean to go about in my nightgown, I hope?’

Murray tittered behind her hand, and tutted indulgently as Clementina struggled to express her reluctance.

‘No, but—’

‘Well, then?’

‘Yes, but—all this.’ She swept an arc across the clothes laid about all over the room.

‘You are not going to have them all, silly child. Not that I would grudge them to you, but several would not suit. Besides, I was unsure of the size. Madame Alouette was obliged to bring a selection.’

‘All of the best for une si belle mademoiselle,’ murmured Madame Alouette.

Clementina hardly heard her. Agitatedly she seized the dowager’s hand. ‘Ma’am, I cannot possibly have you go to such expense on my behalf. If you will perhaps lend me the money to buy one gown, then—’

She was interrupted.

‘Don’t be a goose, Clementina. One gown, indeed. I never heard such nonsense. Do you not see that I am enjoying myself hugely? Now don’t deny me the pleasure of dressing up a pretty young thing once again. It is no fun at all buying clothes at my age. And I do so love these new wispy little muslins, don’t you? So much more comfortable than the stiff brocades we had to wear when I was a girl. What a pity they will not do for me.’

In the face of her ladyship’s enthusiasm Clementina was left with nothing to say. Meekly, she rose and spent an agreeable hour being bundled in and out of the most fashionable clothes she had ever worn. There were several gowns of delicate white muslin or French lawn, sprigged or spotted, and made up in styles so exquisitely cut that they emphasised all the more feminine aspects of the body. Bewildered, she took in overgowns and petticoats, and bodices trimmed with ribbons and braid, beads and tassels, straw and feathers, spangles and foils.

Bemused, Clementina found herself the possessor of a number of morning gowns, afternoon and evening gowns and, the provident Madame Alouette having had the forethought to remember outdoors wear, a pelisse and an evening cloak. Then she learned that Murray had already been on an expedition to bring back bonnets and shoes for her to try, together with garments of a more intimate nature.

‘For the rest,’ said her ladyship airily, ‘you may borrow from my wardrobe for the present. Murray shall find you gloves and shawls and so forth to suit the ensembles we have chosen.’

‘Oh, yes, miss,’ agreed the dresser. ‘You need not fear to go out underdone, as it were. We may furnish anything, I dare say, from brooches and pins to fans and parasols.’

Clementina could only gaze at them both, every effort to proffer thanks being turned off with a ‘Tush, my love, don’t be so foolish,’ from her kind benefactress.

By the time a servant knocked on the door to announce that Lord Sothern was downstairs, Clementina was standing before the mirror in a charming, high-waisted muslin dress trimmed with straw and little rosettes, over a petticoat of pale yellow. Her short curls had been coaxed into a more feminine style, with tendrils creeping on to her face.

Lady Staplegrove draped a fine shawl culled from her own collection across her protégée’s elbows, and declared herself satisfied.

Jake was standing frowning into the middle distance when her ladyship led Clementina into the elegantly appointed green saloon. He turned as the door opened and stopped short, staring.

‘Aha!’ uttered his grandmother triumphantly. ‘I knew you would be surprised. She is delightful, is she not, Sothern?’

His eyes still on Clementina, the Earl moved towards them. He took Clementina’s outstretched hand, and lifted it to his lips.

‘Delightful indeed.’

Clementina blushed, incapable of speech. Lord Sothern, for all his advanced years, was disturbingly attractive in the bright light of day. Much more attractive than she had supposed last night, with dark eyes set in a lean-featured face, framed by dark hair which he wore fashionably cropped. His excellent figure was set off to admiration by the current mode for tight buckskins and top boots, and a green cut-away tailcoat that seemed moulded to his form.

He lifted that single eyebrow in a questioning look, and the smile dawned. Clementina remembered the smile. It was singularly charming.

‘So silent, Clementina?’ he said softly. ‘You had plenty to say last night.’

Her chin came up. ‘Last night you were—you behaved—’

‘Abominably? Rudely?’

‘Both of those.’

‘And today you find I can be quite pleasant. Even polite. But then, last night I had to deal with a schoolboy. Today is a very different matter. Is it not, Miss Clementina Henlow, late of The Lawns, near Rye in Sussex, where dwells, if memory serves me, one Major Henlow, retired?’

Clementina’s heart felt as if it ceased beating, and she hardly noticed shifting back, away from him.

‘Gracious heaven, Sothern, you have been busy,’ remarked Lady Staplegrove. ‘How in the world did you glean all that information so quickly?’

Lord Sothern glanced at her. ‘Almost by chance, ma’am, and the instrumentality of Harry.’

‘What, Blaine? How comes he into the picture, pray?’

‘He was with me last night when Clementina bumped into us. Theo, too. Did I not tell you?’

‘If you did I don’t recall it,’ Lady Staplegrove said, and then evidently noticed Clementina’s strained silence. ‘Oh, my dear, how very unfortunate. Your secret is out. I am so sorry for I do love a mystery.’

Jake came up to Clementina again, and took her hand. ‘Clementina...’

She snatched her hand away, and stared up at him, defiance rising in her breast.

‘Well, sir? Now that you have found me out I suppose you mean to send me back.’

A rueful gleam came into his eyes. ‘Certainly not. I shall have to take you back personally, otherwise you would almost certainly run away.’

‘Yes, I should. Is that what you mean to do?’

The earl’s eyes studied her. ‘I’m not sure. It rather depends on you.’

Clementina turned away from him, took a few agitated steps about the room, and then turned back. ‘You expect me to tell you everything, is that it? Then you may judge of my actions, and make your decision accordingly.’

‘She is extraordinarily acute, Sothern, you must admit,’ interpolated Lady Staplegrove. ‘But of course you can do nothing of the kind. You have no choice. Neither you nor I have the right to keep her from her guardians.’

‘That is as may be, ma’am,’ Jake said, ‘but I would rather know the circumstances so that—’

‘So that you may try to order my life as they have done,’ Clementina finished for him. ‘Well, you won’t do it. I shall tell you nothing. Except that I am not Clementina Henlow, and I am not related to Major Henlow in the very least.’

‘But you did run away from his home?’

‘Yes, but that is the only correct information you have. And, what is more, I should like to know how you came by it.’

The earl’s mobile eyebrow went up. ‘There is no secret about that. My informant was a Bow Street Runner.’

Lady Staplegrove uttered a shriek, but Clementina hardly heard her. The blood drained from her head and weakness threatened to claim her. Desperate, she looked about for the nearest chair. Seeing one by the wall behind her, she sank into it.

‘Jake, how could you?’ her ladyship scolded. ‘Poor, dear child. Wait, I will fetch my smelling-salts.’ She hurried from the room, the taffeta of her old-fashioned chemise gown rustling about her.

The next thing Clementina became aware of was the earl down on one knee beside her chair, seizing her hands and holding them hard in an effort, she supposed, to stop their trembling.

‘I’m sorry, my child. That was thoughtlessly cruel. Come, don’t fall into a faint. It is not as bad as all that.’

Clementina raised her eyes to meet his, hardly able to speak much above a whisper for her tumbling emotions.

‘I had not thought he would go to such lengths. I guessed he might look for me himself, follow me even. But to put the Runners on to me—as though I had been a criminal!’

Unable to be still, she pulled her hands free and got up, pacing without seeing where she trod, clasping and unclasping her fingers.

‘This proves how right I was to run away. He does not care about me in the least. None of them do. It was all false, all pretence, to speak as if it was for my benefit. And to think I was very nearly persuaded to do as he wished, but for that hateful creature’s threat! But it was not my welfare he cared for at all. Nor poor Jeremy’s neither. I see it all now, clear enough. Well, he will be taken at fault. I shall not do it. And I shall see to it that he does not get Dunhythe.’

Sothern watched her as she came to a halt, breathing hard, her eyes gazing at some picture in her own mind. He had remained silent through this tirade, making no attempt either to interrupt or to stop her restless pacing about the room, trying to make sense of her words as her passion induced her to spill more of her story. Little though he understood the whole, he knew one thing. He was not going to hand Clementina back to the man whose purpose she evidently feared, right or no right.

Lady Staplegrove came bustling back into the room at this moment, armed with a bottle of aromatic vinegar.

Jake threw up a hand. ‘It’s all right, Grandmama. She has no need of smelling-salts.’

He moved to where Clementina stood like a frozen statue, and touched her arm. The girl’s head jerked round. She stared unseeingly for an instant; then she blinked and shook her head as if to clear it.

‘I am sorry. I did not mean to make a scene.’

‘You appear to have reason. Come, sit down and let us discuss the matter calmly.’

‘There is nothing to discuss.’

But she allowed him to lead her to the sofa and sat down. Jake remained standing, but stayed close. Lady Staplegrove laid down her vinaigrette, and came over to sit on her other side.

‘There is, on the contrary, a great deal to be discussed, my dear child. I am consumed with curiosity, and I cannot rest until I know why this Major Henlow should have sent the Runners after you. Unless of course you are really a maid and have made off with the silver or some such thing?’

‘Grandmama!’

‘Well, it is possible. Though an adventuress would be better. I know: you meant to marry him, but decided instead to help yourself to his gold. And who shall blame you?’

‘If, ma’am, you would confine your romantical notions to the novels you are so fond of reading, we should do very much better.’

‘Tush, Sothern, I was only trying to divert her. Dear Clementina, you shall tell us nothing at all if you don’t wish to.’ She put out a hand and patted the girl’s arm. ‘And don’t fret. You may stay here with me for as long as you wish. Or at least until you have decided what you would wish to do.’

‘Grandmama—’

‘No, Sothern, I will not hear a word. I know it is our duty to restore Clementina as soon as may be, but I have no intention of doing my duty towards a man who calls out the Bow Street Runners after a mere child.’

The earl grinned. ‘I might have guessed. Well said, Grandmama, I am in full agreement with you.’

Clementina gazed from one to the other, new hope dawning. ‘You mean you will not force me to go back? Even if I tell you nothing?’

‘Gracious heaven, don’t dare say a word! You would spoil everything, just when I am settling down to puzzle out the story.’

Jake groaned. ‘Grandmama, would you be serious for just one moment?’

‘But I am perfectly serious. If only you will eke out the clues, Clementina, I may be amused for hours guessing at your purpose.’

Clementina’s lips twitched, and a chuckle escaped her. ‘Oh, ma’am.’

Lady Staplegrove leaned forward and patted her hand. ‘There, that is better. You see, you have nothing at all to worry about.’ She glanced at the large gilt clock on the mantelshelf. ‘Dear me, only look at the time. I have an engagement, and I am going to be late.’ She got up. ‘I must go, my dear, but what is to be done? I cannot leave Sothern with you. It would be quite irregular. But then who is to entertain you?’

Jake bowed. ‘Have no fear, ma’am. In this instance I am to be trusted to behave with all the propriety in the world.’

His grandmother snorted. ‘Do you think I don’t know that? However, since your purpose in bringing her to me was to prevent any scandal attaching to Clementina, it must be an object with us to avoid giving the tattle mongers any food for gossip.’

‘Indeed,’ agreed Jake, moving to open the door for her. ‘But who is to see us here, Grandmama?’

‘Use your head, Sothern, do. From whose mouths but those of servants do you suppose the tabbies cull their choicest morsels? It will not do.’

‘Very well, ma’am. Perhaps Clementina would care to drive out with me instead?’

He glanced at Clementina as he spoke, and smiled at her startled expression. ‘Or do you not care for driving?’

‘Oh, yes, but—’

‘An excellent suggestion,’ chimed in the dowager. ‘No one could object to that. It is quite in the mode to be seen in the park with a gentleman. A groom up behind, too.’

She bustled over to her charge, pulled her up from the sofa, and began to push her towards the door. ‘What a pity we did not keep the cherry riding habit, though to be sure it became you not. Still, you may wear the sprigged walking dress and the blue pelisse. Murray shall find you my chinchilla muff, and—’

‘But, ma’am, I cannot,’ Clementina cried, breaking in on these cheerful plans before Lady Staplegrove had quite managed to thrust her from the room. ‘I mean, it wouldn’t be—I am not here to—’

‘Tush, child, what a piece of work you make of a very small matter.’ The dowager turned to her grandson. ‘Persuade her, dear boy. I positively must go.’

She opened the door and whisked from the room, only to pop her head in again a second later.

‘Shall we see you at Maria Spencer’s musical soirée this evening? A very dull affair, with a number of talentless performers, I gather, but what would you? One must be seen.’

‘I shall be devastated to miss it, of course,’ said Jake promptly, ‘but I am otherwise engaged.’

He reddened very slightly on the words, and his grandmother’s keen eye sharpened.

‘I see,’ she said flatly.

There was a brief pause. Clementina glanced from one to the other, sensing tension. She saw Lady Staplegrove compress her lips firmly, and wondered what it was she was resolving not to say. As if she felt the girl’s scrutiny the dowager’s eyes turned to Clementina, and she smiled warmly.

‘Then we shall not see him there, child. Make the most, then, of your present opportunity.’

Upon which elliptical remark she was gone, leaving the door correctly ajar behind her. Clementina gazed after her in some consternation.

‘What did she mean, my lord? She cannot intend to take me to parties while I am here.’

‘Why not?’ Jake asked flippantly.

‘Well, because—because she does not know me. Besides, I am not a guest in her house, but a…’

‘A what?’

‘Well, an interloper, a fugitive.’

‘That was a Master Clem Henlow. You are Miss Clementina... Hm. We shall have to think up a name for you.’

‘Oh, there is no need of that,’ she said, sighing. ‘You will find it out soon enough, I dare say. But you will not have heard of it. It is Hythe.’

‘Very well, Miss Hythe. Let us say that your mother was an old friend of my mother’s, and nothing could be more natural than for Grandmama to ask you for a visit now that you are of an age to go into Society.’

Clementina fixed him with that curiously wide gaze. ‘And no one will then wonder at your taking a passing interest in one little older than a schoolgirl. Thus you will be safe from gossiping tongues.’

Taken aback, Jake blinked. ‘It had not crossed my mind, but I dare say you are right.’

‘I am,’ Clementina averred. ‘It would hardly be becoming in me to lay you open to further gossip after all your grandmother’s kindness. She has as much thought for me, you notice. Besides, I am sure she could not like it, although I doubt it would trouble you.’

Jake’s jaw dropped perceptibly. ‘Faith, I don’t know whether to be angry or to laugh!’

Clementina merely looked at him enquiringly. Laughter won. He came to her, and tilted her chin with one finger.

‘You are an impertinent little minx, my dear, and you don’t even know it.’ He paused, aware of a pull from the guileless wide gaze tugging at his own.

‘You have green eyes,’ he said inconsequently, taking in the fact.

‘Yes,’ she answered. ‘Yours are dark brown. Soulful, I think. Do they account for your success with the ladies, do you suppose?’