Katrina was a jumble of nerves and excitement when she and Frankie walked through the hallowed portals to Almack’s Assembly rooms on the south side of King Street. They had arrived well before eleven o’clock, having no wish to suffer the ignominy of being turned away for having missed the patronesses’ strictly enforced curfew. Frankie paused to greet people she knew but Katrina’s attention was taken up with the building itself, hoping yet failing to be impressed by it.
She tilted her chin nervously as they were accosted by Lady Jersey who subjected Katrina to an exacting scrutiny.
“So you’re Heston’s gal,” she said when Katrina had dipped a respectful curtsey.
Katrina thought she was being rather condescending, to say nothing of stating the obvious, since Frankie had already introduced her.
“I am,” she said, biting her lip because the situation suddenly seemed ridiculously formal. Lady Jersey reminded Katrina of Madame when she was at her most pompous.
“I knew your father,” she said, making it sound as though he was dead. “Decent man.” She nodded. “You’ll do.”
From which Katrina assumed she had been granted a stranger’s ticket, allowing her admittance. At a sign from Frankie, Katrina expressed her thanks and was finally at liberty to enter the ballroom. It boasted tall arch-topped windows with simple draperies and delicately decorated panels. There was an enormous crystal chandelier and the walls were hung with gigantic mirrors and paintings. It seemed stark to Katrina and not nearly as elegant as the ballroom she had danced in a few nights previously.
The room was two-thirds full and Frankie and Katrina were the recipients of several prolonged, speculative glances that Katrina thought bordered upon the uncivil.
“You don’t look terribly impressed,” Frankie said, seeming as though she was having difficulty keeping a straight face.
“It isn’t at all what I expected,” Katrina replied. “Not that I knew what to expect precisely, but still it’s…well, it’s ordinary.” She lifted her shoulders. “I have heard so much about these rooms that I expected the walls to be lined with gold leaf at the very least.”
Frankie hid a smile behind her fan. “This, my dear, is the height of fashion and by being granted admittance you are one of the privileged elite.”
Tears sprang to Katrina’s eyes, the result of her attempts not to laugh at the absurdity of it all. “Ah,” she managed to gurgle. “I see.”
Frankie nudged her. “Behave! You will get me excluded.”
“Sorry.” Katrina made a herculean effort to pull herself together. “Why are so many people staring at us?”
Before Frankie could reply, several gentlemen came to speak with her, compelling Frankie to introduce Katrina to them. None of those gentlemen bore the name Sheridan. Katrina ought not to have been surprised about that. Frankie had told her none of the males in that family did anything they would prefer not to and she couldn’t imagine any of them voluntarily entering this rather dreary, strictly regulated assembly unless he was in search of a wife. Katrina was already beginning to understand why Almack’s was known as the marriage mart. By setting foot inside the place, unmarried ladies such as herself were advertising their wifely eligibility. She said as much to Frankie in a whispered aside.
“How very astute of you,” she replied, smiling.
“And people fight for the privilege of being admitted here.” Katrina resisted the urge to shrug. “It’s a bit like a cattle auction and I’m beginning to feel like a prize cow.”
“Status is everything within the ton.”
“It must be. Everyone thinks the rules and regulations are ridiculous but still fight for the privilege of admittance.”
A young gentleman asked Katrina if she would dance a quadrille with him. Katrina accepted because she couldn’t think of a reason not to.
“Why was Lady Jersey glaring at me throughout that dance?” she asked breathlessly when it came to an end and her rather insipid partner returned her to Frankie’s side.
“Ah, I should have warned you. It is not for you to decide with whom you do or do not dance.”
Katrina rolled her eyes. “Lud, I had no idea.”
As a newly admitted young lady, at Almack’s only the patronesses decide with whom you can dance.”
“That’s ridiculous!”
“Hush, lower your voice.”
“Sorry, but I can’t believe you think that’s a sensible way to behave. I mean, if I were here to find a husband, it would be as though they were making the choice for me in the selection of my partners.”
“And you already have a father providing that service for you,” Frankie said, so quietly that Katrina barely heard her. “Anyway, whatever you do, don’t accept any invitations to waltz.”
“And commit social suicide.” Katrina cast her eye over the dreary selection of young men swarming around her, none of whom filled her with the desire to waltz. “It might almost be worth it, just to see Lady Jersey’s reaction. But don’t worry, I can assure you that’s one temptation, the waltz that is, that I can easily resist.”
Katrina tried, she really tried to enjoy the experience and the attentions of the gentlemen vying for…well, for her attention. One or two of them were amusing. Several were pleasant to look at. One in particular took more than a passing interest in Katrina and Frankie told her he was a marquess’s heir in possession a large fortune, under pressure from his father, the existing marquess, to find a suitable wife before he lost patience and disinherited him. Katrina was not so shallow that she would allow such considerations to sway her. Besides, she was not looking for a husband.
“Have you had enough enjoyment for one night?” Frankie asked when the clock struck one in the morning.
“More than sufficient,” Katrina assured her.
Frankie’s carriage was called up, several young men including the marquess’s heir asked permission to conduct them to it. As soon as politeness permitted, Frankie told her coachman to drive on.
“Well, that’s one establishment we can safety tick off your list,” Frankie said as they drove away. “What did you make of it?”
“I am grateful to you for taking me, Frankie, really I am. I know you didn’t enjoy it much, either, but I am so glad I experienced it just once. I shall never look back and think I was cheated for not going there.” She laughed. “I should be ashamed to offer my guests such unappetising refreshments. And fancy only offering tea or lemonade.” She looked at Frankie askance. “Is that really to avoid the scandal of occasional drunkenness?”
Frankie nodded. “Apparently so. And you are right, I seldom to go Almack’s myself but I did enjoy seeing your reaction to it. Most young ladies, gaining admittance for the first time, are so overcome with joy that they fail to see it for what it really is. I knew you’re far too intelligent to be deceived.”
“I’m not sure I deserve such a compliment when I spent the entire evening laughing at society. How very bad mannered of me. But, in my own defence, denizens of the ton do take themselves terribly seriously and deserve to be laughed at. Fancy having someone else decide upon one’s partners for one. And to have to obtain permission before being allowed to waltz. Although I had remembered that I couldn’t since I haven’t actually been presented. I am sure Lady Jersey must have been waiting for me to ask permission so that she could be outraged.”
“Did you want to waltz with Mr. Hadleigh?”
“Certainly not and I was grateful to have a legitimate excuse.”
“I wonder why your father did not think to have you presented,” Frankie mused. “I know you don’t have any relations who could have sponsored you but I would have happily performed that service.”
“Thank you, Frankie, but the possibility didn’t arise.” Katrina’s light-hearted mood rapidly dissipated. “I asked Papa about it once but he said there was no necessity. He told me I would marry a diplomat and most likely live in Europe and that by the time I returned to English society it wouldn’t matter that I hadn’t made my curtsey to the queen.”
“I see.”
“Don’t look like that, Frankie. I don’t mind. Really I don’t.”
But deep down, Katrina felt cheated. Papa was a deep thinker, his mind always occupied with grave matters of State. She couldn’t imagine him having much patience with the frivolities of society, not even when he had been a young man. Some people were born ‘old’ and dearest Papa was one such. Besides, if Katrina had had a season, Papa would have had to be in London as well and made himself agreeable to the ton. He would not have enjoyed that and probably could not have been spared from his duties anyway.
“If that’s the truth, then you have a very forgiving nature,” Frankie said, patting Katrina’s hand and clearly not believing her.
“Well, I suppose…Oh my goodness!”
“What is it?” Frankie asked, alarmed.
Katrina covered her mouth with one hand. “I probably shouldn’t have waltzed with Lord Nate the other night. I completely forgot. I waltzed at balls in Paris and Brussels and that was deemed perfectly acceptable.” She wrinkled her nose. “Different rules apply there of course.”
“I shouldn’t worry. Anyone who did notice and remembered you had not been presented—and that could only be the posse of tabbies who sit at the side of every ballroom watching everything and missing little—then you gave them something fresh to gossip about.” Frankie smiled. “But I dare say Lord Nate doesn’t much care if he set tongues wagging and what your Papa doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”
Just as well, Katrina thought, remembering the other occasion when she had waltzed with Lord Nate that no one knew about.
The carriage arrived at Park Street. Evans admitted them to the house and provided them with steaming hot chocolate to revive them after their arduous evening of talking about nothing significant. Katrina tried to stifle a yawn but it escaped anyway.
“Go on up, my dear,” Frankie said. “I dare say we shall have a whole new array of gentleman callers keen to further their acquaintance with you after the success you made of this evening so you ought to get some rest.”
“Success?” Katrina elevated both brows. “I didn’t do anything other than upset Lady Jersey.”
Frankie appeared amused. “Which is enough to make you a success even without taking into account the fact that you made an impression on several gentlemen.”
Katrina shrugged. “I didn’t try to.”
“I know you did not. That’s why you succeeded.” Frankie flapped her hands in a gesture of dismissal. “Now off you go. I shall be up myself directly.”
Katrina kissed Frankie’s brow, thanked her for being so kind and took herself off to bed.
***
Nate was up at first light. After a substantial breakfast he and Radford were on horseback, examining the area where the fence had been deliberately pushed down and Zach’s cattle made away with. There were wheel tracks in the frozen mud, indicating that the gang were well organised enough to have had a wagon of some sort, or perhaps several of them, into which they loaded the doomed bovines.
“Have to admire their daring,” Nate said reluctantly. “They’re well-organised.”
“I should not have left the herd so close to the boundary,” Radford replied, shaking his head. “But this pasture drains well in winter so they can’t churn it up too much. I confess I didn’t stop to consider that some of the animals might be taken.”
“How many did we lose?”
“Six, my lord.”
“Aye well, it could have been worse and you’ve learned from the experience. I see you have them up closer to the barns now where they can be properly patrolled and it would be hard for miscreants to get near them.”
“Hard, but not impossible if they’re determined.”
“Well, Radford, I am equally determined that they won’t succeed. Right, I’ve seen enough and it’s perishing out here.” He turned his horse towards the house. “The other landowners should be arriving soon. We’d best be there to meet them.”
The three men in question were waiting in the drawing room when Nate and Radford returned to Mansfield. They were all known to Nate. He had passed the time of day with them all during various visits to the taproom at the Ram’s Head.
“Gentlemen,” he said, once refreshments had been served. “Thank you for coming at such short notice.”
“We assume this must be about the stolen stock,” one of them said. “Terrible business. What makes me mad is that no one heard a thing. Not on any of the estates that were affected.” He shook his head. “Makes you wonder.”
“They only took stock that was well away from the buildings and they did it in the small hours when all God fearing folk are in their beds,” someone else pointed out. “Course no one heard anything.”
“Well, if you have any ideas on how to prevent it happening again, my lord, then I for one shall be glad to hear them,” the first man said.
“Aye,” the other two added.
“I’ve been considering the situation, gentlemen, and have a suggestion to make. The Duke and Lord Romsey are wrestling with similar problems in Winchester and Southampton,” Nate replied. “These gangs are everywhere, getting bolder by the day, being encouraged by people who want to create anarchy but who stand back like the cowards they are and let others take all the risks.”
A disgruntled murmur greeted this statement.
“What has the duke done about it?” asked the man who appeared to have appointed himself as spokesman and who went by the name of Egan.
“They are forming a privately funded police force to protect the area. Since making a start there has been a marked reduction of crime in the district and so I would suggest we band together and do something similar down here.”
“We don’t have many resources,” Egan said. “We’re not wealthy men.”
“There’s safety in numbers,” Nate assured him. “I would be willing to employ a couple more men, at least for the rest of the winter. There are still plenty of decent men in need of honest work. If you could supply two each as well, Radford here could organise a roster so that each property is regularly patrolled.”
There was a general rumble of voices, scratching of heads and finally reluctant nods.
“It might work,” Egan said grudgingly.
“Can’t harm to try it.”
“I can spare two men.”
“The important thing is to make it known that we’re fighting back and have put arrangements in hand to protect our land,” Nate said. “Any self-respecting thief will always make his first port of call the taproom in the local tavern. A few casual questions and he will learn all he wishes to know about which estates are occupied by the families, which are best protected and so on.”
There was further nodding.
“And if they discover we’ve taken steps to look after ourselves they will move on to easier pickings. They will not risk the hangman’s noose if they don’t need to.”
“That’s how I see it,” Nate agreed, leaning casually back in his chair. “So what do you say, gentlemen?”
“What about the earl?” Egan asked. “One of his tenant farmers lost cattle too, and he can probably afford to spare a few men if only to show solidarity.”
“That, gentlemen, is to be my next port of call.”
“Well, all right,” Egan said, shaking Nate’s outstretched hand. “Provided the earl is willing to do his part, you can count us in.”
“Excellent!”
Nate sent his visitors on their way in a much happier frame of mind, promising to let them know what agreement he reached with the earl, who was to this corner of Surrey what Zach was to Winchester and beyond. In other words, he was looked up to and respected but was also expected to lead by example. Nate’s scheme would only work if Surrey put his name to it and backed it up with some of his men.
Nate was surprised the earl had not already done something to prevent a recurrence of the thefts and bolster local confidence. It was his job, not Nate’s. Anyway, it suited Nate’s purpose that he had not so far acted since Nate had more than one reason to pay him a call. A reason that had nothing to do with stolen cattle and everything to do with Heston’s activities as a young man. Nate couldn’t get past the possibility that events which took place four decades earlier had profoundly affected the way Heston had lived his life since then and the manner in which he was forcing Katrina to live hers.
After an early luncheon he rode first to Heston Hall. There were no signs of life or livestock until he got to the front of the house. At that point a dog appeared, barking and wagging simultaneously. A rough voice yelled at it and the dog immediately quietened, slinking away with its tail between its legs. The owner of the voice appeared, looking irritated, demanding to know what Nate wanted.
Nate dismounted and in the absence of anyone to take his horse from him, he tied his reins to a fence post. He then approached the sullen individual who was still looking at him with mistrust and fixed him with a flint like look designed to intimidate.
“I am Sheridan from Mansfield. I wish to speak with Lord Heston’s steward.”
“You are doing,” the oaf replied, only a trifle more respectfully. “Jessup’s the name. What can I do for you?”
A less likely looking steward Nate had yet to encounter. The man was dressed like a farm labourer and had the gruff manners to match. Nate wasn’t one to stand on ceremony but also wasn’t accustomed to being treated so dismissively. Still, it wasn’t his place to lecture Heston’s servant on his manners, or lack thereof, so he got straight down to the reason for his visit.
“What livestock do you run here, Jessup?”
“None. We grow wheat in summer, make hay and lease out the rest for pasture.” He sniffed. “Master’s orders.”
That made sense Nate supposed, given that Heston was never around. Presumably he was happy for the place to tick over, making enough profit from his crops to keep the estate solvent until such time as he resumed occupation of it.
“You’ve heard about the cattle thefts?”
Jessup sniffed. “I heard talk.”
“How many of you work here?” Nate asked.
“What’s it to you?”
“Keep a civil tongue in your head, man, and remember to whom you’re speaking.”
Jessup appeared to recall that fact and nodded. “Just me this time of year.”
That seemed peculiar and Nate wanted to ask who looked after the house, where Jessup lived and a whole host of other questions. He was unlikely to get answers here but he’d bet five guineas that for the price of a tankard of ale, Jed would be able to supply them.
Nate swung back onto his horse and left without a word of thanks or farewell. He felt the man’s gaze boring into his back as he rode down the overgrown driveway. He noticed the gardens as he went, bare at this time of year but clearly neglected. He wondered what state the house itself was in, then reminded himself it was none of his business.
He was frozen to the bone by the time he reached the earl’s estate. At least there he was greeted by a groom to take his horse and immediately admitted to the house. A house that was blessedly warm. He gave his card to the butler and was asked to wait. A very short time later he was told Surrey was at home and Nate was shown into an ornate drawing room with a roaring fire and picture-lined walls. The earl was seated in a comfortable chair in front of the fire, one bandaged leg propped on a stool. His three dogs looked up from their slumbers, flapped their tails and lost interest in Nate almost immediately.
“Excuse me not getting up,” Surrey said, lifting a hand for Nate to shake. “Damned gout.”
“Sorry to see you incapacitated,” Nate replied, taking the chair that faced Surrey’s at his host’s behest.
“Old age is a scourge,” Surrey said irascibly. “Anyway, I don’t suppose you care about my ailments. So what does bring you here, Sheridan?”
“Cattle thieves,” Nate replied succinctly.
Surrey scowled. “Damned impertinent coves. Did you lose many?”
“Half a dozen.”
Nate went on to explain his plan to protect the various estates, all of which were a fraction of the size of Surrey’s.
“Damned good idea. Should have thought of it myself.” Yes, you should. “Might be lame but there’s nothing wrong with my brain. No one will get near my cattle again, that I can tell you, but I’m plagued by damned poachers. They always seem to be one step ahead of my keepers. I’ll gladly put half a dozen men into your scheme, if only to keep the poachers on their toes.”
“Good.” Nate was surprised Surrey was willing to be so generous.
“Well, have to lead by example.”
“Glad you feel that way.”
“Pour us a couple of glasses of that Madeira would you, Sheridan? Damned quack says I should give it up.” Surrey shook his head decisively. “Man has to have some pleasures in this life.”
Nate got up and did the honours. They exhausted the subject of local land protection and Nate sensed the time was right to raise Heston’s name.
“Ran into a near neighbour of yours in town the other day. Heston’s daughter.”
“Ah, the chit’s back on these shores then, is she?”
“She is. For now.”
“Ah, Heston and I were at school together, you know. Long time ago now.”
Nate hadn’t known but it told him Heston had to be well into his sixties and so, as Katrina had implied, old enough to be her grandfather.
Surrey grunted. “He was quite wild in his younger days. Wouldn’t think it to see him now. Dull as ditch water he’s become but he had his day, I don’t mind telling you.”
“I heard rumblings about a lady and a disappearance.”
Surrey scowled. “The lady in question was my wife’s older sister’s girl. Had her staying here. Pretty little thing she was, and Heston and another guest were both sniffing around her petticoats. Can’t remember much about Davis now, other than that he was an artistic type. My wife, God rest her soul, was fond of cultivating struggling talent.” Surrey shifted his position. “It all ended badly, of course. Davis disappeared off the face of the earth. Never did find out what happened to him. Amelia was heartbroken because I think he was the one who’d won her heart.” Surrey harrumphed. “All very well but I suspect love wouldn’t have endured if she’d had to freeze in some attic somewhere for the sake of the man’s art. Anyway, she went home to her mother and then married a Scot.” Clearly no lover of his Scottish relations, Surrey turned up his nose in disapproval. “She’s Mrs. Caston now.”
“I know Caston. He comes to town every year. Can’t recall if I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting his wife.” Nate stretched his legs out in front of him. “Anyway, it all sounds very mysterious and tragic.”
“That it was, but I kept a careful lid on it. Can’t have all that scandal attaching to the family name. That would never do. Davis was gone, we tried to find him, couldn’t and there was an end to it as far as I was concerned. Whatever Davis’s family did about it from there on was a matter for them but I never heard anything more.”
Nate was careful to keep his thoughts about Surrey’s indolent attitude to himself. If one of Nate’s sisters had been involved in such a potentially scandalous situation, Zach would do all in his power to protect her reputation too. Even so, not doing more to find out what had happened to Davis, or worse, using his influence to prevent further enquiries being made seemed remarkably callous.
“What did Heston do?” Nate asked.
“Changed from kicking up his heels, spouting poetry and carousing like nobody’s business to being responsible, subdued and deadly serious about his career. Now I think about it, the change happened almost overnight. Weirdest thing I ever knew. Prior to the incident with Davis he had been here all the time. As I say, we were school friends, but he never set foot on the estate once the girl quit it.”
“Ah, the power of first love,” Nate said, chuckling, even though he didn’t find the situation remotely amusing.
“It was as if he couldn’t bear to be here, Heston that is, now that the woman he had taken such a shine to had married and moved to Scotland. He got married himself soon after that and started diligently working his way up the ladder in the Foreign Office.” Surrey shrugged. “Haven’t seen or spoken to him for years.”
“He’s still plodding away on behalf of king and country.”
Surrey snorted. “Damned fool should retire and leave it to the younger folk to keep our shores safe.”
“I dare say he should.”
Nate put his empty glass aside, stood and shook Surrey’s hand again.
“I’ll have Radford contact your steward regarding the arrangements for the patrols,” he said.
“You do that.”
Nate rode back to Mansfield in a contemplative frame of mind. Heston’s overnight character change seemed remarkable and highly suspicious. Interesting to know that he had once embraced the passion he was determined to eradicate all traces of from his daughter’s character.
Could he have done away with his rival, only to lose the girl anyway? It seemed far-fetched. Perhaps he’d just grown into his responsibilities. Nate was only twenty-four but had already turned his back on some of his wilder pursuits and sometimes preferred a good book to a night on the town. He chuckled when he thought of Martha, the comely barmaid in the Crown and Anchor back home in Shawford. She had taken it upon herself to indoctrinate all four of the Sheridan males into the world of carnal delight, Nate being her latest acolyte. Nate had briefly been obsessed with her. Now he understood why his brothers, all of whom had already passed through her capable hands, found his attitude amusing.
Darkness was falling. Rather than return to Mansfield only to go out again, Nate headed for the Ram’s Head. He might as well ask Jed a few questions about Heston’s steward and start the rumour-mill going with regard to the land patrols while he was at it.