Chapter Three

 

Jake released her chin abruptly, his tone becoming curt.

‘If you mean to drive out with me, you had better change your dress.’

Clementina gazed at him, brows raised in amazement. ‘If this is your notion of persuasion, my lord, I no longer wonder at your successes. How could any lady possibly resist?’

The earl stood for a moment, defiant and glaring. Then his lips twitched. Clementina twinkled responsively.

‘Dear Clementina,’ Jake said, bowing with exaggerated formality, ‘pray do me the honour of driving out with me.’

Clementina curtsied prettily. ‘The honour is all mine, sir.’

She found herself laughing along with his lordship. Jake took her by the shoulders and pushed her, unresisting, through the door.

‘Away with you, baggage!’

Giggling, Clementina sped away. She did not keep him waiting very long, and they were soon bowling through the streets in his natty phaeton and four towards Hyde Park.

Clementina, dressed as Lady Staplegrove had directed, with the addition of a very pretty little poke bonnet trimmed with fur, was at first too interested in taking in her surroundings to have much leisure for conversation. She had passed through the metropolis before, but until now she had never penetrated into the more fashionable quarter. She could not help but be impressed with the high porticos and elegant frontages to the houses they passed. Indeed, even Lady Staplegrove’s rather modest house in Brook Street had, by the new light of day, seemed imposing to one more used to the less impressive residences of Norwich, the closest large town to her old home of Dunhythe.

She said as much aloud, quite forgetting her determination to keep her origins to herself. Foolishly perhaps, Jake alerted her to her own indiscretion.

‘So, Miss Hythe of Dunhythe, your home is in Norfolk.’

Clementina looked round quickly, meeting his amused gaze with dismay in her own eyes.

‘Don’t be concerned, my child,’ the earl said soothingly. ‘You have given nothing away. Dunhythe you had already mentioned. I dare say I might pursue enquiries in Norfolk and come up with various answers. But I surmise that, your flight being from Rye, Norfolk has very little to do with it. Though you were headed that way, were you not?’

Clementina bit her lip, eyeing him uncertainly.

‘Your grandmama told me I might keep my own counsel, yet you insist on trying to trip me into saying more.’

‘Grandmama is more complacent than I.’ One eyebrow lifted as his lips curved into a teasing smile. ‘Besides, you intrigue me, more every second.’

The dark eyes held hers a moment longer, their expression disturbing. Clementina felt intimacy in that look, a warmth which left her a little breathless. As he turned his attention back to his horses she became aware of the quickening of her heartbeat. To cover it she broke into stuttering speech.

‘Well, y-you are scarcely to be com-commended on your own frankness, sir. After all, beyond your name and the identity of your grandmother I know—I know very little about you, either.’

‘I have no secrets, ma’am,’ laughed Jake. ‘For which the town tabbies will vouch, believe me.’

‘I don’t mean gossip,’ Clementina said crossly, rapidly regaining her composure. ‘I am not such a simpleton as to believe the half of the stories that have reached us, even in my rural fastness.’ She turned to him with that wide innocence in her gaze. ‘But I know nothing else of you, my lord.’

Jake’s lip curled. Yet he spoke lightly. ‘What is there to know? My history is as tedious as the next man’s born to title and lands. One learns to manage the estates, to do the pretty to the same faces over and over again. One sports and gambles, one dances and flirts. One marries at length and begets an heir to pursue the same game once more. Fascinating, is it not?’

He turned his head as he spoke, and encountered an odd look in his companion’s eye. He let out an involuntary laugh.

‘But what have I said to make you look at me so?’

‘Nothing,’ Clementina answered quickly, turning away. ‘I don’t know how I looked.’

‘Compassionate,’ he informed her at once. ‘You pity me, perhaps? I wonder why. Surely I am to be envied?’

‘I don’t think so,’ Clementina said quietly. ‘You are plainly bored to death. Small wonder you kick up a riot and rumpus at every chance.’

Jake burst out laughing. ‘I wish Grandmama could hear you speak of a riot and rumpus. Hark at the pot! I dare swear not one of my exploits would bring down as much trouble on me as yours is like to do.’

‘That is easily remedied,’ Clementina snapped. ‘It was not I who insisted on staying with Lady Staplegrove.’

‘Softly, child,’ his lordship warned, jerking his head backwards to remind her of the presence of his groom clinging to his perch behind.

Clementina flushed and looked away. There was enough to take her interest. They were driving down Piccadilly, and the press of carriages was intense. Spanking new chariots with crests on their panels jostled for space with lumbering coaches of a bygone era now turned to the use of a hackney. The Bath stagecoach clattered by as the earl’s team picked its way through a maze of smaller vehicles—whiskies and drays, carts and horsemen. Darting in between and passing down the pavements either side went artisans with their tools in hand, sweeps with blackened faces and a collection of brushes on their backs, street vendors with their trays of wares, servants in livery, and all manner of people going about their legitimate business.

But the bustle had little power to hold Clementina’s attention, which was concentrated on the need to mind her tongue. In an effort to distract Sothern from further questions she asked one of her own.

‘Are you as fortunate in all your relatives as with your grandmother?’

Jake laughed. ‘By no means. Most have long since despaired of me. But Grandmama is special to me. She more or less brought me up, you see.’

Clementina turned interested eyes to examine his profile. ‘How was that?’

‘My mother—Grandmama’s daughter, you understand—died when I was a mere boy. When my father remarried, Grandmama did not approve his choice.’ He turned his head, grinning. ‘I believe she kicked up a good deal of riot and rumpus.’

‘I can well imagine it,’ Clementina said, smiling at this sally. ‘Did she take you to live with her?’

‘Not exactly. But I spent most of my holidays from school with her and my grandfather. And if she did not quite stand to me in place of a mother she certainly bore more of the burden than anyone else.’

‘And your stepmother? Did she not care for you?’

The earl gave a short laugh. ‘She had no time. She bred like a rabbit, poor woman.’

‘Have you then a numerous family?’ Clementina asked, conscious of a pang of envy.

‘No, for only three of her offspring survived infancy. They were among the last of her brood, and consequently not of an age to lend me companionship. Indeed, the eldest of them must be some years your junior. Fifteen or sixteen, I should imagine.’

‘You mean you don’t know?’ Clementina exclaimed, shocked.

Sothern shrugged. ‘Why should I? I am barely acquainted with them. On my father’s death Caroline retired with her children to the Dower House, and has remained there to this day.’

‘Do you never visit her?’ she asked wonderingly.

‘Certainly. I make a point of it whenever I am on the estate. To tell the truth, I believe it is as much a penance for Caroline as for myself. She is excessively indolent, you know, and abhors any form of exertion. Or perhaps she is merely exhausted from the rigours of child-bearing.’

‘I should not be surprised,’ Clementina agreed. ‘I had an aunt who was of the same type. None of her children survived. She died with the last.’

‘And so you have no close family, either?’

‘Not on my mother’s side. But on Papa’s there is—’

Clementina broke off. Her hand slipped from her muff and was brought up to touch her fingers to her lips as if to prevent any more words from emerging. Under the poke of her bonnet the green eyes glowered at Jake.

‘Very clever, my lord.’

His lordship grinned and raised an eyebrow. ‘But not clever enough for Miss Hythe, I take it?’

‘Not if you think to lull me into chattering about my circumstances.’

He sighed and murmured softly so that his groom should not hear, ‘I wish you could find it in you to trust me.’

Clementina looked away, down into her lap where her agitated fingers began aimlessly to play with the muff, plucking at the fur and stroking it.

‘It—it is not that I mistrust you, sir,’ she said, low-voiced and gruff.

‘Then I wish you will confide in me, my child.’

‘I cannot,’ she replied in a stifled voice.

He was silent.

Clementina sat fighting an irrational impulse to apologise for her reticence. She owed him no explanations, for although he had been kind he had interfered in a high-handed manner. Who knew but what he might, if he knew all, bring her escapade to a summary end? Besides, she could not bring herself to tell him—nor anyone indeed—of the preposterous ultimatum that had driven her into flight. Who would believe it? She was scarcely able herself to believe in the perfidy of her relatives. Sothern must suppose her to have invented the whole thing, even could she force her tongue to relate to him what had so filled her with disgust and horror.

She drew a somewhat ragged breath and sat up straighter, forcing her thoughts away from the memories and out to the world about her. She became aware that the horses had slowed to a walk, and they were entering the park through an open pair of massive wrought-iron gates. Lord Sothern picked his horses up to a gentle trot as he turned the phaeton into the carriageway that led around the park, and Clementina had leisure to look about her.

Hyde Park was laid out in a picturesque way, the rides bordered by elegant trees with acres of undulating greensward leading down to the Serpentine. There was a number of riders in pairs or groups, and several vehicles making their leisurely way towards the main thoroughfare where the beau-monde was wont to parade in the afternoon. At this hour it would not be as crowded, the earl reflected, for the fashionable morning promenade took place rather on foot, down the Queen’s Walk along the shore of the reservoir in Green Park.

But it proved sufficiently so for Clementina. Within a very few minutes it was borne in on her how imprudent she had been to come out on this drive.

‘How they stare,’ she exclaimed, as she encountered what must have been the fourth or fifth look of blatant curiosity on the face of a matron who rode with another in an open carriage.

‘Pay no attention,’ Jake advised, merely bowing at the lady as they passed by.

‘It’s very well for you,’ Clementina retorted, agitated. ‘You are used to it.’ She cast him a resentful glance. ‘And I dare say if I was not with you they would not notice me at all. How foolish of me not to have foreseen how it would be. It was foolish of you, too.’

‘Let me tell you, my girl, there are many who would give their eye-teeth to be where you are now,’ Jake flung at her, stung.

‘The more fool they.’

‘Why, you little—’

‘Careful,’ Clementina whispered fiercely, throwing in her turn a significant glance behind her.

Jake closed his lips, but threw her a fiery look that boded her little good presently. But he was disarmed in a moment or two when Clementina spoke again, a catch in her voice.

‘P-please, my lord, take me back. I cannot bear this.’

He glanced down and saw tears standing in her eyes. His heart melted, and he reached one hand across to clasp hers where they lay tightly gripped in her lap over the discarded muff.

‘Don’t mind it, sweetheart. I’ll take you home.’

Only when she was safely back in Lady Staplegrove’s comforting pink parlour did Clementina remember that he had used that tender endearment.

No, he could not have said it, she thought, a tingle in her veins. He could not have. She was mistaken; surely she must have misheard him.

But his voice echoed in her mind. ‘Don’t mind it, sweetheart.’

* * *

 

The earl, had Clementina but known it, was not even aware of what he had said. He had been conscious only that this young girl, whom he had voluntarily taken in charge, had been caused distress. It had indeed been thoughtless of him to expose her to the avid curiosity of the world. She had been right. It was because she was with him that she had attracted attention.

Normally he would have laughed it off, cynically imagining the speculative whisperings of his numerous circle. Now, for the first time, he was conscious of remorse. None knew better than he how damaging such talk could be. It was unforgivable to have put the child in such a situation.

He could think of nothing else all day. Meeting his friends at their club did not help. He found Blaine and Theodore Farleigh at Brooks’s, partaking of refreshment and perusing the papers in a quiet corner of one of the small saloons, out of the way of the hardened gamesters already at play in the Great Subscription Room.

‘Whole town’s talking again, old fellow,’ Sir Harry Blaine told him, waving his half-empty tankard for emphasis. ‘Can’t count the number of fools who have asked me who is your latest flirt.’

‘Hell and the devil,’ Jake swore.

‘You may well curse,’ said Theo on a note of gloom. ‘Had you at least had sense enough to introduce her here and there you might have avoided the worst of it.’

Jake’s turned to look at him, swift suspicion kindling. ‘You are not going to tell me people are stupid enough to think—’

‘Ha! And he calls me fool!’ There was a note of triumph in Sir Harry’s voice.

‘Hush, for pity’s sake,’ counselled Farleigh, ‘do you want the whole room to hear?’

‘What else are they to think, hey?’ Sir Harry pursued, but in a lowered tone. ‘A man may flaunt his mistress in public. He don’t come smash up to the matrons and give them her hand to shake. No, by God. Ruined, that’s what she is. Ruined.’

Appalled, the earl could only gaze at him.

‘Don’t heed him, Jake,’ Theo said quietly, grasping his friend’s arm and giving it a reassuring squeeze. ‘People may think what they like, but this coil may soon be mended, trust me.’

‘How?’ demanded Jake.

‘Your grandmother, old fellow. She’ll scotch it fast enough. Let ’em see she sponsors the girl, and all will be well. They’ll learn their error fast enough.’

‘Yes, by God. See to it, man,’ ordered Blaine with a lightning change of face. ‘See to it on the instant.’

Jake was staring at Theo, some of the horror leaving his drawn features.

‘You may be right, Theo. Yes, you are right. She is planning to do so this very evening, in fact. The Spencer woman has some musical event planned, and my grandmother means to take Clementina there.’

‘Excellent. That will do finely.’

‘Sensible woman, Lady Staplegrove,’ said Blaine enthusiastically, adding his mite. ‘She’ll see all’s right.’

But it seemed at first as though his friends were mistaken. Jake was engaged for the evening with his mistress, but so anxious was he to see his folly righted that he sent a note excusing himself, and set out instead for the projected musical soirée.

Such was his state of mind that it did not even occur to him that Lady Matilda might also have heard the gossip, and that his breaking of their engagement might have been expressly designed to lend colour to the rumours so gleefully spilled into her ears.

But Lord Sothern was doomed to disappointment. He had no difficulty entering the house of Mrs Maria Spencer, a notable hostess, for he had not refused her invitation, it being his invariable careless practice to leave most cards of invitation unanswered.

Having greeted his hostess, he passed through into the saloon behind her. The rooms were jammed with members of the beau monde, most of whom had little or no musical appreciation, but came mainly for the pleasure of greeting their friends and being seen. For Mrs Spencer’s parties were always in vogue, and anyone who aspired to a place in the fashionable set must necessarily flaunt their eligibility to receive one of her exclusive invitations.

From one of the four interconnecting rooms, each decorated in striped brocade wall-hangings of a different hue, floated the reedy fluting of a tenor voice, rendering an operatic aria in the Italian tongue. A grimace of distaste flitted across Sothern’s features as his eyes searched the throng for a sight of his grandmother and Clementina.

‘Why, Sothern,’ a female voice hailed him, ‘what a pleasant surprise. I little thought to see you at such an affair as this.’

The earl turned to greet Lady Waldemar, a close friend of his grandmother. She was a handsome matron of middle years, on whose excellent figure the current fashion for high waists looked very well.

‘Why, no, ma’am,’ he replied, allowing a satirical smile to curl his lip. ‘I am not often to be found present on these occasions. But my grandmother assured me of the superiority of the performers, and I did not dare to absent myself for fear of missing such delights as this presently afforded.’ He waved an arm in the direction of the warbling tenor.

Lady Waldemar’s eyes twinkled. ‘Indeed, yes. A most moving performance.’

His eyebrow went up. ‘So I perceive. It has moved you quite out of the room.’

Betrayed into a laugh, her ladyship shut her fan and dealt him a rap over the knuckles.

‘Dreadful boy.’

Sothern smiled. ‘Have you seen Grandmama, by the by?’

‘Certainly. You will find her in the room opposite our tuneful friend in there.’

He was tempted to ask after Clementina, and thought it odd that Lady Waldemar should not have mentioned her. But he bowed, and was about to pass on with a word of thanks when she touched his arm to stay him.

‘I expect you at my rout, mind.’ The twinkle reappeared. ‘After your appearance here tonight I shall brook no excuses.’

‘I shall try not to disappoint you, ma’am.’

He moved away on the words, reflecting that at least one person appeared not to have heard the gossip. But it very quickly became obvious that Lady Waldemar was either too tactful or too fond of his grandmother to distress her by mentioning the matter. For as the earl made his way through the room he was obliged to greet a number of acquaintances. Though none had the temerity to ask embarrassing questions there were several eyes that spoke teasing messages at variance with the conventional innocence of their actual words. Then, when he located his grandmother at last, it was only to find that she had come alone.

‘What?’ he uttered in an urgent undertone, guiding her quickly aside to an alcove where they might speak without being overheard. ‘She is not here? How is this? I made sure you would bring her.’

‘It is no use blaming me, Sothern. She would not come. Heaven knows I cannot blame her after what she was obliged to endure today.’

‘Grandmama, all my dependence was on you. You have no idea of the tongues I have set wagging this day.’

‘Have I not, indeed? I have been adequately informed, I thank you.’

‘By Lady Waldemar, perhaps?’

‘Among others.’

‘I thought as much.’

‘Yes, but at least Hetty had the goodness to tell me what was toward. The others merely took delight in twitting me on your latest fall from grace.’

Jake groaned. ‘Faith, I have made wretched work of it. Now what is to be done?’

Lady Staplegrove relented. ‘Don’t put yourself about. I am as much to blame as you. I should have foreseen the consequences of that rash outing. Never fear, for I shall take Clementina about with me tomorrow and settle the matter.’

Jake was frowning heavily. ‘I hope you may be able to do so.’

‘Tush, nothing could be easier. I am well able to handle the tabbies.’

‘I don’t doubt it, ma’am. Nor your ability to persuade Clementina to acquiesce, assuming she is still with you.’

The dowager raised startled brows. ‘You do not suppose she will run off again?’

‘She may already have done so. Flight might well have seemed preferable to running the gamut of the beau monde once more. And what could be simpler for her with neither of us on hand?’

His grandmother grasped his wrist. ‘Well, don’t stand dithering, man! Go and see. I will follow and—’

‘If we both leave it will occasion remark. You can do more good here, ma’am. A few words in the right ears, and we will soon give the world to understand that Clementina is an eminently respectable visitor whom you are about to introduce into Society.’

‘And much good that will do if she is already gone,’ said the dowager acidly. ‘For the Lord’s sake send me word!’

‘If she has gone I will do so. If you do not hear from me you will know that she is safe in Brook Street.’

But the conviction that Clementina had indeed run away again grew upon him as he swiftly walked the few short streets from Mrs Spencer’s residence in Park Street to his grandmother’s house. He wondered how he would set about finding her again. It did not so much as cross his mind that he might wash his hands of her and leave her to fend for herself. She had blundered into his life by accident, but even in this short time he had come to feel himself responsible for her. At least until he saw her safe in other hands—those, moreover, that he could be certain would care for her welfare with the respect and concern that was her due.

There were one or two clues. Dunhythe, her home in Norfolk, which she had confessed was her original destination. She would scarcely alter that plan. Unless there were other relatives to whom she might flee. What had she said? None on her mother’s side. Too bad she had recollected herself before giving out any information on her paternal relations. Still, if she had gone he did not doubt his ability to catch her up soon enough. Unless, that is, some other and less scrupulous person were to cross her path before he had a chance to do so.

This thought sent him on at a speedier pace, heart beating faster as his reluctant mind drew for him sundry graphic pictures of the fate that might easily overtake a young girl on her own.

Answering the door to his lordship’s peremptory knock, Lady Staplegrove’s butler found himself the recipient of a pithy confidence as he was brushed aside by the Sothern’s hand.

‘A fine mess we may be in now, Dorridge, and no mistake. If only Miss Clementina has not given you all the slip.’

He was hurrying to the stairs as he spoke, and had begun to mount them two at a time with the idea of checking Clementina’s bedchamber. He was brought up short by the butler’s call.

‘My lord! If, as I apprehend, you are looking for the young lady, she is certainly here. I can vouch for that.’

‘I’ll see for myself, I thank you,’ said Jake, on the move again.

‘But Miss Clementina is down here, my lord,’ pursued Dorridge, following him up a step or two. ‘In the pink parlour.’

Sothern turned and quickly came back down the stairs. Arrived at the door of the parlour, he flung it wide, and strode into the room, stopping short at the sight that met his eyes.

A meagre pink light glancing off the furnishings was afforded by the two small branches of candelabra on the mantelpiece. In this warm setting Clementina sat, curled up on a rug before the hearth, clad in an over-large dressing-gown which had slipped from its place about her neck to expose one slim shoulder to the blaze. Shadows flickered across her face and hair, and the firelight touched that bare expanse of flesh to glimmering gold.

Never in his life had Jake beheld so desirable an object.