‘She refuses all callers.’
‘How wise,’ Thurleigh murmured. ‘And should I be similarly reticent? It is my way, I know, and yet …’ He hesitated briefly before continuing, ‘I can tell you that Madame de Sange left Weald Hall on Christmas night – through a window, I believe.’ Again the sneering smile was in evidence. ‘It proves my point about servants – most of them will be indiscreet, at a price.’
‘And just what did you learn – at a price?’
‘That the lady escaped from a locked room by way of an open window. A little careless of Boreland, would you not agree, to overlook such a possibility? The servants were sent out to bring her back. Hounds were used, I understand.’ He observed the tightening of the viscount’s jaw and shook his head slightly. ‘The orders were that she should be taken alive. However, she had an accomplice waiting in the woods, and they rode off, never to be seen again. It had crossed my mind that you, my lord Davenham, might have been that accomplice.’
‘I?’ cried the viscount, surprised, ‘Why should you think that?’
‘I had thought – but no, I can see that you knew nothing of this.’
‘Perhaps the lady has returned to France.’
‘I doubt that. I have had the ports watched since I learned of her escape. There has been no word from there. And would she leave the country without her devoted servant, who waits still at Knight’s Bridge? No. She is still in England somewhere. I shall find her, never doubt it, and I should very much prefer to do so without interference.’
‘Is that a threat?’
The marquis picked up his hat and gloves, and turned to smile coldly upon the viscount.
‘Merely a warning. I do not look kindly upon those who stand in my way. If you should have news of Madame de Sange, it would be wise for you to inform me of it.’
‘What is it that you want from the lady, Thurleigh? It must be a thing of great importance to make you come to me for help.’
A shadow of annoyance passed over the marquis’s usually impassive countenance, but it was gone in an instant and he replied coolly.
‘You mistake, Davenham. I did not come here to ask for your help, merely to offer you a little advice. The jade is not worth your attention. ‘Twould be a great pity if you were to risk your very existence for a common thief.’
The marquis left the apartment without another word. Despite his outward calm, my lord Thurleigh was greatly vexed by Elinor’s disappearance. He knew that Boreland had failed to recover the ruby brooch, but had relied upon his assurances that it was only a matter of time before he found Elinor de Sange, and with her, the jewel.
The news of Boreland’s death had come as a most unpleasant surprise. While the ruby was out of his hands there was always the possibility that its secret might be discovered, even though he knew how cleverly it had been concealed. And if news of it should ever reach Leicester House! His plans depended upon the continued trust of the Princess of Wales; with her help he hoped to spirit the young princes out of Town, but all his planning would come to nought if it was discovered that he had supported the Stuart in ‘forty-five. His painstaking arrangements were very near completion: to make his move too early would greatly increase the chances of failure, yet if he delayed he knew there was a risk that the ruby could betray him. However, my lord was ever a gambler and he had always trusted to his luck. He would bide his time.
He entered Thurleigh House just as his wife was descending the wide staircase to the hall. At the sight of her husband she hesitated, eyes widening in surprise, then with a little cry of delight she hurried down the stairs towards him, her hands held out in greeting and a tantalising smile upon her painted lips.
‘Fie on you, my lord! I was told you would not be back before the dinner hour, and now I have made arrangements to amuse myself until then.’ She gave him her hands to kiss, which service he performed dutifully as she continued to talk. ‘Shall I cancel my coach, sir? ‘Tis only a courtesy call to Lady Upton, and can easily be put off.’
‘No need for that,’ drawled the marquis, letting go of her fingers.
My lady’s green eyes narrowed at his indifference, but her smile remained fixed and she followed him into the library, saying in a caressing tone. ‘Then I promise you I will be as quick as possible. You will be home for dinner tonight? I am glad, for we have seen so little of each other of late, my lord.’ She carefully closed the door and stood against it, eyeing the marquis speculatively. ‘Did your business go well this morning sir? I – I understand you are trying to trace a certain – lady?’
Thurleigh’s piercing gaze came to rest upon his wife. ‘How the devil did you know that?’
‘One hears these things,’ she said vaguely. ‘Have you had any success in finding her?’
‘No, damnation. The chit’s vanished.’ Again that searching look. ‘Why are you so interested, my dear Margaret? Jealous?’
My lady laughed and disclaimed, but her husband did not fail to note the tell-tale flush that crept into her cheek.
‘I wish you would tell me why you want this woman, Thurleigh,’ she said softly. ‘It is possible that I might be able to help you.’
Her green eyes taunted him as they had always done, and he felt the stirring of desire as she moved closer, a provocative smile curling the corners of her mouth. With an oath Thurleigh pulled her to him and kissed her savagely, but not before he has seen the flash of triumph in her eyes. As he let her go he gave a cruel laugh.
‘Do you think I don’t know your tricks by now, beloved wife? What’s your interest in Elinor de Sange?’
‘None, I swear it, save to help you, my lord.’
‘Is it to help me that you bed every man that comes your way?’ The marquis noted her angry flush, and the way her lips were pressed together to hold back the retort he knew she wanted to make, the taunt that his pox-ridden body could no longer give her pleasure. His lip curled. ‘Such restraint, my dear. I admire you for it, but it will not persuade me to tell you anything more than you already know.’ He forced his painful joints to walk across the room without limping and he opened the door. ‘Your carriage will be waiting, my love. You had best be going, for you know how I dislike my horses to be kept standing.’
My lady glared at him, but without deigning to reply she swept out of the room, venting her wrath upon the hapless footman waiting to hand her into the coach.
* * * *
The year advanced. Spring sunshine tempted travellers back onto the roads. Lord and Lady Hartworth, who had been in London all winter, left town to spend a few months at Hart Chase, their principal seat near Huntingdon, while many of those who remained in the capital welcomed back their friends and acquaintances. Still Madame de Sange’s house at Knight’s Bridge remained shut up.
The viscount stayed in Town, dividing his time between trying to discover where Elinor de Sange might be, and observing the movements of my lord Thurleigh. In neither quarter could he have boasted of any great success, although his lordship’s activities provided him with some diversion for his thoughts. Davenham noted that the marquis had renewed his acquaintance with Lord Thomas. Under normal circumstances, the viscount would have given the matter scarcely a thought, but his close scrutiny of the marquis made him more acutely aware of his actions and it seemed that Thurleigh was deliberately cultivating the fellow’s friendship.
A casual word of enquiry elicited the information that Lord Thomas was a relative newcomer to the court, a man of moderate means, with a small estate in Derbyshire, and that he had recently been appointed Lord of the Bedchamber. Interesting, thought Davenham, but hardly suspicious. Much more intriguing were the frequent visits of my lord’s groom to the squalid drinking houses of Holborn and St Giles. Davenham learned of these forays from one of his own servants whom he had at one time set to watch the Thurleigh household. The young footman was devoted to his master, quick-witted and eager to please so that when, having executed an errand in the City, he had spotted Lord Thurleigh’s man making his way towards one of the more iniquitous quarters of the capital, he had promptly followed him and reported his findings to his master. The viscount was at first inclined to dismiss the incident, but when subsequent observation proved that the fellow made regular excursions to such haunts he began to feel uneasy. The marquis prided himself upon the relative sobriety of his servants, and he was well-known as a harsh master. Surely his head groom would not risk offending such an employer, or did he perhaps have his master’s approval? An interesting point, but although Davenham watched the marquis closely during the following weeks, he was no nearer to answering the question when he received a summons from his father to join him at Hart Chase.
* * * *
The viscount was greeted warmly by Fletton, my lord’s butler, who informed him in a fatherly way that Lord Hartworth had gone out but that my lady was at home, and in her room, should he wish her to be informed of his arrival.
‘Don’t bother,’ said the viscount, giving up his greatcoat to a hovering footman, ‘I’ll announce myself. See to my bags, will you, Fletton?’
Lord Davenham took the stairs two at a time and made his way to his mother’s apartments on the second floor. He knocked softly upon the door, but did not wait for an answer before entering. The Countess was reclining upon a sofa by the window, her head resting upon a cushion and her eyes closed. One slender hand rested across her fashionable apron, an exquisite creation embroidered with dainty silver flowers, while the other arm hung down at her side, the book that had slipped from her fingers lying open upon the floor. The viscount trod quietly across the room and stooped to pick up the tome, dropping a kiss upon the lady’s forehead as he did so. Lady Hartworth opened her eyes and, observing her visitor, gave a stifled shriek and sat up, throwing out her arms to wrap her son in a fond embrace.
‘Jonathan! You wicked boy – how dare you come in upon me unannounced!’
Grinning, he returned her embrace. ‘How dare you to look so charming when you are asleep, Mama! You are more beautiful each time I see you.’
‘Flatterer,’ she admonished him, trying to sound stern. ‘Is that my book you are holding? Give it to me.’
‘Here you are. What is it, another romance?’
‘Yes, and quite tedious it must be, or I assure you I should not have fallen asleep. Now, my boy, come sit by me and tell me, when did you arrive?’
‘I have but this moment come in, Mama. Yes, I know what you will say, I should have changed before coming to see you, but how could I wait to see my favourite lady, and I assure you I wiped my boots most carefully before coming indoors.’
‘Fie on you, sir, when have I ever scolded you over a little mud when we are in the country? Pray be sensible, Jonathan. Your father is not yet returned?’
‘No. Fletton told me he had gone out, so I came directly to you. Did I disturb you?’
‘Not at all, my love. I had no intention of sleeping. There was an hour or so to spare before I needed to change my dress for dinner, and I thought I might be usefully employed improving my mind.’ This prim speech was belied by the mischievous twinkle that gleamed in my lady’s eyes.
The viscount smiled back at her. ‘What is this talk of changing your dress? Is that in my honour ma’am? If so I am most flattered.’
My lady gave her attention to smoothing the creases from her snowy apron.
‘I did not see your father’s letter, Jonathan. What did he say to you?’
‘Oh, it was the briefest of notes. He merely requested the pleasure of my company here for a few days.’
‘Then you know nothing of …’ She broke off and looked up as the door opened, saying in a voice tinged with relief. ‘My lord! You are just in time, Jonathan is here.’
‘So I was informed,’ murmured Lord Hartworth, strolling across the room and bending to salute his wife’s upturned cheek. Straightening, he smiled at his son. ‘How are you, my boy?’
‘Well, sir, I thank you. No need to ask how you go on. Chase has always agreed with you.’
The earl smiled faintly. ‘Indeed it has.’ He turned to his wife: ‘My dear, if you do not object, I will take Jonathan away with me. There are one or two things I should like to discuss with him.’
‘Of course you must go! Besides, it is time I was thinking of what I am to wear this evening.’
The two gentlemen took their leave of her, Lord Hartworth leading his son downstairs to the library, where a decanter and glasses were set out in readiness for them.
‘You’ll take a glass of Malmsey with me, Jonathan?’ Lord Hartworth poured two glasses without waiting for a reply. He handed a glass to the viscount and bade him to be seated before continuing, ‘When I left Town, you were attempting to find a certain lady. Madame de Sange, do I have that correct?’
‘Yes sir. As I told you at the time, Guy Morellon is also anxious to trace her, but so far my luck has been quite out. She seems to have vanished without trace. The only consolation is that Thurleigh’s luck appears to be no better than my own. I have been keeping an eye on Thurleigh and I’ll swear he has no more notion than I do where to find the lady.’
‘Much less notion, in fact,’ purred the earl, sipping his wine.
‘Sir?’
The older man smiled faintly, his eyes gleaming with amusement.
‘Did I forget to mention it in my letter to you, Jonathan? Madame de Sange is staying here as my guest.’
For a full minute the viscount could only stare at his father, whose amusement deepened at the young man’s obvious confusion. At last he took pity upon his son and volunteered an explanation.
‘I came upon Madame de Sange in a small village in Bedfordshire, where I had stopped to pay my respects at the grave of my late friend Ambrose Burchard. It did not take me long to discover her identity and to persuade her to put herself under my protection.’
‘To put herself …! Sir, I think I should tell you –’
‘She is a most unusual young lady.’ The earl interrupted him smoothly. ‘She has told me her history.’