Amanda Scott - [Dangerous 02] (17 page)

Elizabeth said lightly, “You forget that at Grappen Hall we rarely got food even half so warm as what they serve here, Edythe, on account of the kitchens being so far from the dining parlor. I think the service here has been excellent.”

Charley smiled, feeling almost in charity with her for once.

Elizabeth went on earnestly, “But I do not mean to set my opinion against yours, Edythe, certainly. If you are not perfectly satisfied with the servants, I am persuaded that our dearest Alfred will soon get matters sorted out. Won’t you, Alfred dear?”

“You may be sure of that,” he growled.

Standing like a large, silent shadow beside Alfred, James Gabriel seemed to have eyes only for Elizabeth. He had nodded at Charley and murmured a polite reply to her greeting, but then his gaze shifted right back to Elizabeth.

“There you are,” Alfred exclaimed suddenly, causing every eye to turn toward the grand stairway.

Sir Antony descended gracefully, every hair in place and looking, in Charley’s opinion, complete to a shade. Pantaloons and a coat of soft dove-gray superfine made his eyes seem a deeper blue than usual. His neckcloth was arranged in the intricate Obaldeston with a sapphire stickpin nestled in its folds, and he wore a Chinese silk waistcoat embroidered with pink butterflies, green vines, and leaves. Observing that he had become the cynosure of every eye in the hall, he raised his quizzing glass and peered back at them.

“Dear me,” he drawled, “have I kept you all waiting? I am so sorry. Behold me abject with apologies. I had to change every stitch, of course. All that dust! Really, someone ought to order the gardeners to wet down those garden paths at least twice a day. At all events, you will agree that I was left with no other alternative.” He descended the last few steps, then paused before James Gabriel. Raising his quizzing glass, he said, “I do not believe we are acquainted.”

Alfred said brusquely, “Mr. Gabriel is the mayor of Lostwithiel.”

“Ah, yes,” Sir Antony said. “I believe I have heard you described in glowing terms, Mr. Gabriel. I make you my compliments. No doubt your position is one of vast importance and responsibility, requiring the expenditure of great energy.”

Charley, watching him, could see no sign whatsoever of Jean Matois. Not only was there not the least vestige of a French accent in his drawling speech, but he looked bored and rather sleepy, an English aristocrat exerting himself to be pleasant.

Mr. Gabriel beamed at him, saying, “I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Sir Antony. My position as mayor is indeed a great responsibility, but I am a man who believes in getting things done, sir. As to the energy it takes, why, I’ve little else to do with my time these days. My dear wife passed on many years ago.”

“So sad,” Elizabeth said sympathetically.

“Yes,” Gabriel agreed. “Perhaps if she had given me a son to raise, I might have put much of my energy into seeing him ascend to heights even greater than those I have attained for myself, but alas, she bore me only a daughter.”

With an edge to her voice, Charley said, “No doubt you love your daughter dearly and have found her to be a source of great comfort, Mr. Gabriel.”

He blinked at her. Then, with a softening smile, he said, “I care for her very much, Miss Charlotte. As a child she was my dearest delight. But alas, she inherited my ambition, I fear, for she ran off some months ago to seek her fortune elsewhere.”

“I hope she was successful,” Elizabeth said doubtfully. “Where did she go?”

“It’s kind of you to take an interest, ma’am,” Gabriel said. “However, I’ve yet to hear from the minx, I’m afraid. It’s not really been so long as it seems, though.”

Elizabeth stifled a small cry of distress.

“You are too calm, Gabriel,” Sir Antony said. “I fear Miss Elizabeth believes you lack a proper sensibility.”

“Well, sir, I certainly don’t want to distress so sweet a young lady, but I own, I don’t spend much time worrying about things I cannot change. Others engage in a deal of bother and talk, I’ve found. There are not many like James Gabriel, who believe in action when action is wanted. Still, I must say, Sir Antony, meeting you is an honor. Had someone told me when I was a child that I should one day enjoy the company of such men as yourself, I would have stared in disbelief. But here I stand, though my father were naught but a simple clockmaker, a tradesman who worked with his hands.”

“Not a simple man, surely,” Sir Antony murmured politely. “I have been told that he was a very fine craftsman.”

“To be sure,” Charley said. “Mr. Gabriel’s papa made the clock in the drawing room, and Grandpapa said the work compares with that of Chippendale or Sheraton.”

“Many people have said so,” Gabriel agreed.

Edythe said, “Ah, here is our good Medrose. No doubt he has come to inform us that we may repair to the dining room. As you see, Medrose, we are quite ready at last. You can begin to serve at once.”

“Yes, madam,” the butler said after a brief glance at Charley, who nodded.

The exchange had not escaped Edythe, for she pressed her lips tightly together, but she did not say anything.

Medrose’s glance went a long way toward soothing Charley’s lacerated feelings, and she smiled at him. Just then she encountered Sir Antony’s gaze and saw a distinct glint of amusement in his eyes. Although she did not know if he was laughing at her or at Edythe, she realized at once that she would do better not to betray her small sense of triumph to anyone else. Assuming a more modest expression, she glanced at him again, only to see him graciously offer his arm to Edythe.

Oddly annoyed by the gesture, she was even more irritated to see Rockland look suddenly doubtful. As the male of highest rank, he generally escorted Edythe when Lady St. Merryn did not dine with the family, and he was clearly uncertain now if he ought to escort his betrothed or Miss Elizabeth Tarrant.

Charley said, “Rockland, for goodness’ sake, don’t stand like a stock. Cousin Alfred is starving for his dinner. Mr. Gabriel, will you be so kind as to give your arm to Miss Elizabeth. Indeed,” she added with an airy laugh, “I cannot imagine why we are all standing on such ceremony. Shall we go in?”

Mr. Gabriel assured all and sundry that he was more than willing to escort Elizabeth. But although Rockland promptly offered Charley his arm, he muttered, “Dash it, my pet, I wish you would not fling orders at me like that. It ain’t seemly.”

“My dear sir, if you stand about like a moonling, you must expect someone to give you a hint.”

“You don’t hint, Charley. You dashed well shove a fellow.”

Alfred, behind them, said testily, “Do you two mean to stand nattering, because if you do, I shall never get my dinner.”

In the dining room, Alfred instantly went to the head of the table, and Charley wondered if she was the only one who noticed the challenging way he looked at Sir Antony. When Sir Antony did not appear to notice, merely taking his place beside Edythe at the foot of the table, Alfred’s expression changed to smug contempt.

No sooner was everyone seated, however, than Lady St. Merryn appeared, swathed in yards of black crape. She was supported by the footman Jago on one side and by the ubiquitous Miss Davies on the other.

As servants scrambled to lay covers for the two ladies, the dowager glanced around the candlelit room. She said faintly, “Were you not expecting me? I daresay you were not. Dear me, how inconvenient for you, but I was told we had company to dine, and also that a new claimant to the earldom had presented himself. I am persuaded that the latter case cannot be true. Surely someone would have taken the trouble to mention that to me, and to present him. Ah, thank you, Medrose,” she added when the butler, betraying a slight frown on his normally wooden countenance, pulled out her chair with his own two hands.

Charley had known Medrose all her life. Watching him now, her instincts honed by the guilt she felt at having failed to present Sir Antony, she experienced a flash of insight that made her look at Edythe Tarrant. The resentful expression she saw on that woman’s face when Lady St. Merryn took the place at Alfred’s right confirmed a dawning suspicion. Without thinking, Charley said, “Why, I believe you neglected on purpose to tell Grandmama that we were entertaining guests. And I’ll wager you told the servants that she chose not to join us!” Not waiting for a reply, she turned back to Lady St. Merryn, saying remorsefully, “Pray forgive me, ma’am, for I fully intended to bring Sir Antony up to you directly when he arrived. Other considerations intervened, however. Then, when dinner was set forward and you did not appear, I’m afraid I simply assumed that you had elected to dine in your room.”

Lady St. Merryn said fretfully, “No one even told me that dinner had been set forward. I like to be told these things, you know.”

Edythe said haughtily, “You must forgive me, ma’am. I quite thought you would prefer to dine in solitude, since we were merely entertaining strangers.”

“You were mistaken,” Lady St. Merryn pointed out with gentle emphasis. Shaking her head at a platter of sliced beef that Jago held for her inspection, she said to him, “Just a little soup and perhaps a morsel of chicken, I think.”

Edythe, intent on defending herself, said, “To be sure, I suppose Mayor Gabriel may be known to you, but not this other man, pretending to be Antony Tarrant.”

“Is that who you are?” Lady St. Merryn peered myopically at Sir Antony. “I don’t know any of the Norfolk Tarrants, I’m afraid.”

“Nor should you, ma’am,” he said instantly. “A sorry and encroaching lot, they are, I’m sure.”

She blinked in surprise. “But did not she just say that you are one of them?”

“Indeed, I once thought I was,” he said. “The Norfolk lot cut the connection long ago, however, and by and large, I think they were wise. In fact—or so I am told by Alfred here—they put it about that I had died abroad. Therefore, I have quite decided to resurrect myself as a worthy
Cornwall
Tarrant instead.”

“Have you, indeed?” Lady St. Merryn said faintly.

Elizabeth stirred impulsively and said in the falsely bright tone of one determined to avoid social disaster, “Do tell us, Mr. Gabriel, had you a particular purpose in visiting us this afternoon, or was it purely a social call?”

Like everyone else at the table, Gabriel had been staring in bemusement at Sir Antony. He rallied quickly, however. Smiling, he said, “To be sure, Miss Elizabeth, I had a purpose. You see, the late earl’s sudden death has presented me with a quandary, which I came here to discuss with your brother.” He turned to Alfred. “I had meant to ask you to take his lordship’s place, sir, since you seemed to be the obvious choice to do so. But now,” he added, looking at Sir Antony, then back at Alfred, “I own, I’m at a loss as to what we should do now. It’s the Seraphim Coffer, you see.”

He looked confidently from face to face, but if he hoped for universal understanding, he did not get it. Everyone at the table gazed blankly back at him.

C
HARLEY WAS THE FIRST
to recover her power of speech. She said, “The Seraphim Coffer is the chest that will contain the sacramental vessels Wellington means to present to the cathedral, is it not?”

“It is, indeed,” Gabriel said.

Elizabeth said in astonishment, “Goodness, Mr. Gabriel, are you making the very box that will protect those sacred Vessels?”

He smiled fondly at her. “Not
making,
Miss Elizabeth. I fear my skill is not so great as to warrant that honor. This coffer is older than the vessels are, and although it is not so magnificent as others I’ve seen, it is certainly worthy to contain them. I have been entrusted only with its refurbishing, no more than a little glue, a new peg or two, and new strapwork. One more layer of oil, a good polishing, and the task is done.”

“But is the coffer not painted?” Charley asked. “I heard it was quite colorful.”

“To be sure, it is. It’s a bit gaudy, in fact, but I should not have dared to touch the artwork. That has been protected over the years by layers of varnish and lacquer, you see. It required no more than the removal of one or two layers to make it look nearly new. One can now see the blond curls on each seraph’s head, whereas before, one saw only blurred figures in a shadow. I make my task sound too simple, however,” he added, helping himself from a dish of grilled crabs. “It is the interior of the coffer that presented the greatest challenge, for it had to be padded and arranged so that each vessel can have its own little nest. I daresay it would surprise you to know that I am nearly as clever with a needle and thread as Miss Elizabeth and Miss Davies are said to be.”

Rockland murmured to Charley, “I notice that he didn’t say ‘as clever as Miss Charlotte is known to be.’”

Annoyed, she said sweetly and without lowering her voice, “If you wanted a wife who would spend her days stitching seat covers for every chair in your house, Rockland, you should have asked someone else to marry you.”

Her words created more of a stir than she had intended, for Lady St. Merryn gasped, and even Miss Davies looked mildly shocked. The countess said, “Charlotte, what on earth are you saying? Has Lord Rockland asked for your hand?”

“Many times, Grandmama.” But Charley squirmed, realizing that she had said nothing to Lady St. Merryn about her betrothal.

Rockland said dryly, “The difference this time, ma’am, is that she consented.”

“I offer my felicitations, my lord,” Gabriel said. “May you both be very happy.”

“Aye, we’ll hope so,” Rockland agreed. “Many thanks, Gabriel.”

Miss Davies said brightly to Lady St. Merryn, “And our dear Charlotte will be a ladyship at last, just as you’d hoped she would, my dear ma’am. Not Lady Charlotte, of course, but Lady Rockland is a quite unexceptionable title, I believe.”

Lady St. Merryn said in her fretful way, “Yes, yes, that’s all very well and good, Ethelinda, but why did no one
tell
me?”

Ruefully, Charley said, “We ought to have done so, of course, ma’am, and I am completely to blame. I have not been thinking clearly, I’m afraid. So much has happened, and I was perhaps overly conscious of the need to be discreet. I simply have made a point of not speaking about it to anyone, and I daresay no one else thought it necessary to tell you, believing that I must have done so. Please, forgive me.”