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Praise for Nicola Cornick’s latest books
Prologue
Chapter One 1814 T he Marquis of Tallant did not believe in improving his home—what had been good enough for his forebears needed no enhancement from him—and therefore the drawing room at Ashby Tallant was much the same as it had been twenty-five years before. Today sunlight was pouring through the diamond panes of the mullioned windows and its bright light cruelly accentuated the bald patches on the blue velvet curtains and the threadbare rugs where the pattern had almost worn away. Joscelyne, Earl of Tallant, came into the room with an assured step, pausing only as it seemed empty. Then he smiled a little grimly, for one of the wing chairs had its back turned deliberately to the door. ‘Good afternoon, sir.’ He came forward to stand in front of the fireplace, looking down at the man huddled in the chair. ‘I believe you wished to see me?’ ‘I cannot say I wished to see you, Joss, but I certainly wanted to speak with you.’ The Marquis’s voice was harsh, a contrast to his son’s light and
Chapter One
Chapter Two I t was past five when Sir Richard’s guests departed. The house was quiet. Marten, the valet, locked the door and helped his inebriated master up the stairs to bed. Richard was disposed to sing, for he had won two hundred guineas, but Marten successfully managed to dissuade him. Outside it was a mild May night with the moon shrouded in cloud. The watch called the half-hour. Lord Humphrey Dainty and Bertie Hallam staggered away down the street, their arms about each other for mutual support. ‘Youngsters going home to bed,’ Joss Tallant drawled with a contemptuous smile, as he watched their shadows merge like a drunken spider. ‘What about you, Seb? Can you stand the pace any better?’ The Duke of Fleet squared his shoulders. ‘What did you have in mind, dear boy? Abbess Walsh?’ ‘I thought so.’ Joss adjusted the set of his coat. ‘I haven’t seen the fair Harriet in a month. It seems time to make her re-acquaintance.’ Fleet fell into step beside him. ‘It would be something to do,
Chapter Two
Chapter Three ‘I ’m sure that Patience has beaten these rugs too hard,’ Lady Bainbridge said that evening, peering at the carpet in the dining room by the light of one dim candle. ‘The pattern is quite faded, you know. One can ruin a carpet with too much beating.’ ‘I imagine that the rugs are faded because they are old, Mama, not for any other reason,’ Amy said. She pushed her apple stew listlessly about the bowl. Dinner had been as lacklustre as ever, but that was not the reason for her blue devils. She had been feeling restless ever since she had returned home from visiting Mrs Wendover and she was at a loss to explain why. The evening stretched ahead of her in the same pattern as every other evening for the previous two years; a book or sewing, a cup of hot milk if there was enough left and it had not curdled, and an early bed. For two years she had been quite satisfied with this routine, but tonight she felt as though she would explode. A door slammed and Richard’s voice echoed dow
Chapter Three
Chapter Four T he air outside the Guildhall was fresh and cool and reviving. As her head cleared, Amy realised that she was not sure what happened next and hung back, drawing Amanda into the shelter of the portico. ‘I am not perfectly sure what to do,’ she murmured. ‘Do I not have to go up to claim the prize?’ ‘No, no.’ Amanda cast her an amused look. ‘I forgot that you said you had not played the lottery before, Amy. Is this really your first time?’ ‘Of course it is,’ Amy said. She felt confused. No doubt she would wake in her narrow bed in Curzon Street at any moment. ‘This is not even my own lottery ticket, you know, Amanda—’ Amanda was not really listening. She was too excited. ‘Lud, and you won the prize at the first go! In order to claim the money you need to attend one of the lottery offices. They will pay your winnings. Or, better still, send your man of business. You would likely need a platoon of soldiers to guard you against robbery were you to go yourself! Now, where is you
Chapter Four
Chapter Five J oss Tallant cast aside the Morning Chronicle and reached for his glass of claret. On the sofa opposite him slumbered the Duke of Fleet, sleeping off the previous night’s excesses, his large bulk shaken every so often by a sonorous snore. Fleet had declared that the lottery draw had taken the last of his strength. The Club was quiet and almost empty. Only the occasional rattle of the dice box and rustle of a newspaper disturbed the early afternoon peace. Joss had given up temporarily on the affairs of the nation, for he had been amused and surprised to find his thoughts veering towards something rather more close to home. Miss Amy Bainbridge, to be precise. Miss Bainbridge, who had proved to be no pattern-card female, who had roundly condemned gambling and who had, he suspected, stolen his winning lottery ticket. Perhaps stolen was putting it a little strongly, Joss reflected, with a grimace. He took another sip of the wine and sat back, considering. Certainly he could no
Chapter Five
Chapter Six ‘O h, Amy, I am so glad we were able to come tonight!’ Amanda clasped her friend’s arm with all the excitement of a child. ‘It is years since I have been to Vauxhall. How prodigiously exciting it all is!’ They were strolling down one of Vauxhall’s gravel walks towards the central square, where they were to take supper in one of the boxes and to hear a concert of Mr Handel’s music. Amanda had professed herself disappointed that they had missed the jugglers and acrobats who had been performing the previous night, but Amy thought that the gardens, with their lamplit grottoes and groves, were exciting enough. She smiled. ‘It all looks very pretty, does it not? I do not think that I have been here since the year Papa died…’ Her voice faded away and Amanda gave her arm a sympathetic squeeze. ‘Your mother seems to be enjoying herself,’ she whispered. ‘She is looking most animated.’ Amy watched with amusement as her mother nodded regally to one of her acquaintances in passing. ‘The
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven J oss Tallant relinquished Miss Amy Bainbridge to the eager arms of Viscount Truscote and strolled over to the long terrace windows for a drink and some fresh air. The heat in the ballroom was becoming oppressive and he had no further desire to dance. Perhaps it was time to leave the genteel entertainments of Lady Moon’s ball for less salubrious surroundings. A picture of Harriet Templeton came into his mind, but for some reason it seemed unappetising. Joss shrugged philosophically. No doubt Harriet would regain her appeal soon, but if not he could always find another mistress. He replaced his empty glass of wine with a full one and stood watching the dancers. Amy was waltzing with Truscote, moving daintily and with grace. She might be small, but she was perfectly proportioned and danced divinely. She was looking up into Truscote’s face with a confiding smile and it seemed she was enjoying the Viscount’s company no matter what she had asserted before about finding little
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight T he morning following the ball was another glorious May day, but Amy awoke with a headache and a feeling that there was something very wrong. She rolled over in bed, opened her eyes, and immediately remembered her win at cards the previous night. A mixture of disbelief and guilt hit her hard, tempered by a very faint, stubborn pride. It was lowering to find that she had compromised her principles, that she was not immune to the lure of gambling. On the other hand she had no intention of playing again and so should just put the matter behind her. Except…except that there was the problem of the payment of the wager… Amy got up and dressed slowly, going downstairs to breakfast late and alone. Lady Bainbridge had not risen and was no doubt still recovering from her migraine. Richard had mentioned going to White’s the previous night and had probably not returned. It was bright and warm in the dining room, but Amy’s spirits did not reflect the day. If Joss chose to come in per
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine ‘D id you enjoy the lecture, Miss Bainbridge?’ Joss asked, as he tooled his curricle through the park the following afternoon. It was a cooler day, grey with a chilly edge to the breeze, so the crowds were fewer and Amy had been obliged to wrap up warmly in her new pelisse. They had been to a lecture given by Dr Thomas Hardiment, a notable fundraiser, at the Royal Humane Society and afterwards Amy had resolved to donate a large sum for the funding of the Society’s work. She intended to speak to Mr Churchward about it the following morning. She sighed. There was something very worthy about charitable giving, of course, but the lecture had been dry and a little depressing. ‘I am sure that Dr Hardiment does a marvellous job,’ she said now, in answer to Joss’s question, ‘but for my part I found his lecture a little tedious. All those graphic descriptions of resuscitation, for example! Perhaps the fault is in me for being so squeamish, but I did not care to know the detail.’ ‘T
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten L ady Bainbridge, close to indulging in a fit of the vapours, had wanted to retire from the ball immediately when the word of the lottery win was out, but Amy had refused to retreat in ignominy. It was not that she felt there was any further enjoyment to be obtained from the evening; on the contrary, it had been a disappointment from start to finish and the fact that everyone was talking scandal about her only served to confirm her poor opinion of society. However, she had a task to undertake and it was one that her anger would enable her accomplish. Tomorrow would be too late. She wanted to give the Earl of Tallant a piece of her mind. It had to be Joss who had told Lady Juliana about the lottery win and she was furious with him for it. First they had hatched their stupid joke, calling it a debt of honour, and then they had humiliated her at the ball for good measure. If ever a brother and sister were kindred spirits, Amy thought angrily, it was those two. They deserved ea
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven ‘Y ou are fast ruining my bad reputation, Miss Bainbridge,’ Joss said resignedly, as Amy leaned out of his phaeton to hand him a pile of blankets, a hamper of food and a bag of medicines. ‘Yesterday I was delivering school books for the orphans of St Boniface and today I am visiting in Windsor! Whatever next?’ ‘It is most kind of you, my lord.’ Amy passed him the remainder of the pile of provisions. ‘I am persuaded that Nurse Benfleet will be very grateful. We must not stay long, however. I did not tell Mama what I was doing and I simply must be back before evening or she will be fretting herself to flinders.’ She felt Joss’s gaze upon her and willed herself not to blush. There were several practical reasons why she had not told Lady Bainbridge of the trip to see Mrs Benfleet. Firstly was the undeniable impropriety of driving to Windsor with Joss, even with a groom in attendance. Amy had considered this, but had decided it could not be allowed to matter. Mrs Benfleet had
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve J oss knew that he was in deep trouble. He had known it for a long time, but had refused to face up to it. He had known it when he had accepted Juliana’s wager purely for the pleasure of spending time in Amy’s company, he had known it when he had paid off Harriet Templeton and admitted to himself that he had no desire to set up another mistress, and he had known it when he had kissed Amy in Lady Carteret’s garden. The only thing that he had not done was acknowledge the truth to himself, indulging instead in a whole range of activities designed to distract his thoughts from their one inevitable conclusion. Now, as he made his farewells to his gambling cronies at a scandalously early hour, Joss was conscious of nothing other than a relief that he had finally admitted the truth. He was in love with Miss Amy Bainbridge and he wanted to marry her. The thought was shocking, exhilarating and nerve-racking all at the same time, and he had no very clear idea how it could possibly
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen A fter Joss left Amy he did not, as she might have supposed, go back to Number 12, St James’s but went instead to an elegant house in Cavendish Square, where a slightly flustered maid showed him into the drawing room and informed him that her mistress was from home but was expected back soon. Sure enough, not five minutes had elapsed and Joss’s glass of brandy was almost untouched when the front door banged and there was the sound of angry footsteps on the hall tiles, followed by the murmur of the maid’s voice. ‘Lord Tallant is here to see you, ma’am—’ ‘Joss is here? At this time of the night?’ The drawing-room door was thrust unceremoniously open and Juliana Myfleet swept in. Joss thought that she, too, looked flustered for one brief moment, then her expression changed to chagrin and finally amusement. ‘Joss, dearest,’ she said coolly, ‘I scarce expected to see you tonight! Whatever can have brought you here?’ Joss smiled. ‘May I pour you a glass of wine, Ju? You will
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen A couple of hours later, Amy walked with Joss along the top terrace and down the steps to the Ashby Tallant gardens. There were four terraces in all, flanked by huge cedar trees, each with their own name and character. The top garden, nearest the house was the most formal; the bottom one, the wilderness garden, was an overgrown Eden with medieval fishponds and tumbling walls. ‘I played here as a boy,’ Joss said, tracing the lines on a stone-carved sundial as they stood in the central grassy court and looked at the tangled profusion all around. ‘It was an exciting place for a child.’ He gestured to a stone bench under the shade of a weeping willow. ‘Shall we sit?’ Amy sat down. She was feeling strangely shy and it did not help that the only conversation between them since they had left the house had been of the most formal kind. She had wondered if Joss had just been waiting for a little privacy, waiting for the opportunity to rebuke her for coming to Ashby Tallant and
Chapter Fourteen
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