Regency Rumours/A Scandalous Mistress/Dishonour And Desire (26 page)

‘Nothing at all. Where does this singing teacher live?’

But Caterina was not there, either, and the rest of the day was spent in fruitless searches in and around Bath, especially on the many hills and lovely glades that had brought back memories of home. Stephen alerted the town constables who could do little now that the light was fading, but agreed to begin an investigation in the morning. One by one, the servants would arrive only to be sent off again on another wild goose chase while Amelie, sick with distress, was told to wait at home in case there was news of her. Unable to eat, to sit down, or even to think clearly, she watched the darkness fall and, with it, a steady rain that would chill anyone to the bone. Beguiled by her own reflection in the window panes, she threw a heavy shawl around her shoulders and waited inside the open front door, willing all the lights in the town below to yield up to her, alive and unharmed, the girl she had grown to love like a daughter. ‘Bring her back to me, Stephen,’ she prayed. ‘Bring my lovely girl back to me, please.
Please.

When Stephen returned, it looked as if her prayers had been ignored, for his face was haggard with worry and the futility
of empty searches. ‘Nothing,’ he said to her, passing a cold hand across his face. ‘Nothing.’ He staggered up the steps as his carriage moved away with white clouds rising from the horses into the lamplight, and Amelie caught him in her arms to stop herself from bursting into tears.

‘Come inside,’ she said. ‘You’re shivering.’

The sound of hooves and the rumble of wheels over cobbles made her glance over his shoulder. One of the neighbours, perhaps? The coachman hailed her from a distance. ‘Lansdown, is it, lady? Looking for Lady Chester’s residence.’

‘Here!’ Amelie shrieked. ‘It’s
here
! Who is it? Have you news?’ Thrusting Stephen away, she ran along the pavement to the door of the carriage with her shawl flying behind her, grabbing at the handle as it opened from the inside to release the tall dark figure of Lord Rayne, who leapt onto the pavement even before the wheels were still.

‘Go inside!’ he barked at her. ‘You’ll get drenched. We’ll bring her in. Nick’s with me. Go on, we can manage.’

‘Caterina?’ she yelped.

‘Yes. Go inside.’ He turned to the carriage to receive Caterina into his arms, then strode with her past her stupefied and speechless father into the soft glow of the hall.

Mrs Braithwaite’s face crumpled. ‘Upstairs, my lord, if you please,’ she said.

Chapter Nine

I
n their relief at Caterina’s safe return, there was no time for more than an exchange of meaningful glances between Amelie and Lord Elyot before attending to the comfort of the two exhausted Chesters, though she could see from the grim countenance that there would soon be a demand for detailed explanations. Nevertheless, his presence in Bath, at last, gave her more pleasure than she was prepared to admit until she was sure that it was for her pleasure he had come. While Caterina was being settled into her bed, it was enough that he was here. The drowsy young woman was in no fit state to provide her aunt with a coherent account of her adventures, though she did indicate that she had been riding to Richmond to find Lord Rayne since he had not come to find her. She had been quite sure it was the best thing to do and well within her capabilities. Which, Amelie thought, she would do, being high on laudanum. Amelie had asked no more questions about how she was found and brought home in a blanket by the one she had been seeking. If this was not mere coincidence, Amelie thought, then Someone had been watching over her rather well.

Alternating between sleepiness and shivering, Caterina was otherwise unharmed, had no idea what day it was, whether she was in Richmond or Bath, though the brief contact with her father brought an angelic smile to her face before she let go of his hand, probably believing that she might be in Buxton.

Leaving her to be tended by Lise and Millie, Amelie returned to the candlelit parlour to an atmosphere of concern and relief, but also to an icy civility hardly thawed by a roaring log fire, Madeira wine and fruit cake. ‘She’s going to be all right,’ she said. ‘She needs to sleep it off, then we’ll see. Have you been introduced? Yes, of course, you will have guessed, I’m sure. My lords, Stephen and I cannot thank you enough for bringing Caterina home. We were frantic with worry. A most
dreadful
day. May I ask how … where
was
she, exactly?’

‘On the road to Richmond,’ Lord Elyot growled, ‘which you might have guessed if you’d both used some imagination. We were heading for Bath when we took a stop at Chippenham. Seton recognised her horse in the stableyard. It had cast a shoe, and Miss Chester was out for the count on a bench in the taproom with an audience of travellers debating her identity.’

‘I came along the Bath road myself this very morning,’ said Stephen, tetchily, ‘and there was no sign of her
then
.’

‘The upper road, or the lower road?’ said Lord Elyot, fixing his wine glass with a frosty stare.

‘Er … well, the lower one, I think. Through Devizes.’

‘That’s why you missed her, then. She was on the upper road.’

Sensing that the conversation would veer in the usual masculine fashion towards routes, distances and timing, Amelie came to Stephen’s rescue with a defence that was perhaps unnecessary.
‘My brother-in-law arrived only today,’ she said, ‘quite by coincidence. He’s not had time to familiarise himself with the routes.’

‘Really,’ said Lord Elyot, lifting an eyebrow. ‘So you will not have had chance to introduce Mr Chester to the utterly harmless Mr Elwick, who is also here. Have
you
had time to change your mind about his morals, yet?’

‘If you are implying, my lord,’ Amelie said, ‘that we came to Bath to follow that young man and his sister, then you must have a very low opinion of my intelligence, after what happened. We came here to meet Signor Rauzzini because our first appointment was cancelled and because we both needed a change of air. Your sister and I have chaperoned Caterina closely.’

‘As we have seen,’ said Lord Elyot. ‘And did young Elwick help you to search for her?’

‘No,’ snapped Stephen. ‘He did not. And when I catch up with him tomorrow, he’ll be looking for the shortest way home.’

‘Stephen!’ said Amelie. ‘First we must allow him to explain himself. What interests me at this moment is why Caterina was so very unhappy that she wanted to … oh, dear, I’ve made such a mess of this, haven’t I? I thought … thought I was…. doing …’ She sat down, holding the back of her hand to her nose.

But Stephen seemed ripe for an argument. ‘Surely there are better ways of dealing with unhappiness than dosing it with laudanum. When I’m unhappy, I take—’

‘Well, you’re not a woman, are you, Stephen?’ croaked Amelie. ‘At least young Tam was helping her to deal with it, which is more than I was able to do. And I don’t think it helps at all to start looking for the blame until we know what caused the problem in the first place.’

Placing his glass upon the mantelshelf, Lord Rayne looked sadly at Amelie. ‘The problem and the blame lie with me,’ he said, quietly. ‘As I think you know, my lady. She must have talked to you, surely?’

‘She did, my lord. Some would call it the blind leading the blind.’

‘Then you have no cause to feel guilt. On the contrary, you have done more for your niece than some mothers do for their daughters.’

Promptly, before Amelie could reply, Stephen stood up, addressing himself pointedly to Lord Elyot. ‘Indeed she has.
Much
more. Under duress too, I believe. And if Lady Chester had accepted
my
protection with the same promptness she was obliged to accept
yours
, my lord, then none of this would—’

‘Stephen!’ cried Amelie, jumping to her feet. ‘Please say no more. You are overwrought, and I think we should talk about this again in the morning. This conversation is getting out of hand, and I am not to be discussed as if I were a commodity. We shall all regret saying things when we’re so tired.’

‘Then I shall have the last word,’ said Lord Elyot, ‘so that Mr Chester goes to his bed knowing exactly where he stands on the subject of protection. Lady Chester is engaged to
me
, sir. Let that be quite clear to you. The promptness of her acceptance has nothing to do with you or with anyone else, nor is there any possibility of you taking my place either now or in the future, just in case you had any ambitions in that direction.’

‘My lord!’ said Stephen.

‘I am aware of the help you have given to Lady Chester in the past, and I understand the reasons for it, but she has agreed to be
my
wife, and that is what she will be. Your doubts, if you
have them, do not concern me. Now, it’s time we took our leave of my lady. Where are you putting up, sir?’

There was a noticeable pause as Stephen exhaled, noisily and tight-lipped. ‘At the White Hart, my lord. My luggage is already there.’

‘Then I believe one carriage may do for all three of us, for that is where my brother and I shall be staying. Will you share it with us?’

Stony-faced, Stephen nodded, curtly. ‘Thank you.’

A few uncomfortable minutes later, as two of the men filed downstairs, Lord Elyot slipped a hand beneath Amelie’s arm to hold her back, searching past the ravages of worry on her face to find a hint of warmth. ‘I know you’re angry,’ he said, softly, ‘but we can discuss all this in the days ahead. You heard what I said just now. Whatever he is to you, whatever he has been, it is me you will marry. So if you had any thoughts about taking flight again, alone or with him, forget it. I shall find you and bring you back, Amelie.’

‘I have no such plans,’ she replied. ‘But you are wrong. I cannot marry you. This was a temporary arrangement, and that is how it will have to stay. Now, you can safely go to the White Hart, my lord. You are only right about having some talking to do. To be more exact,
you
do.’

‘So do you, wench.’

‘Why did you come, you and your brother? Was it Hurst’s letter?’

‘No!’ A smile and a tip of the handsome head dismissed that idea in one second. ‘I came to take the waters. Why else does one come to Bath?’

When her hopes had been at their lowest that day, a good night kiss from the one she hungered for would have been on
her list of miracles. But now his lips sought hers just as hungrily, warm, like his arms hard around her shoulders, holding her upright as she sagged like a doll against him. Dizzy with emotional tiredness, she tasted the wine on his mouth and knew without asking that this was not the kind of kiss he shared with others.

‘I seem to be having a problem making myself understood tonight,’ he whispered, ‘and you usually so sharp-witted. Let me say it again, my lady. Whatever clever scheme you have hatched between you for Chester’s journey down to Bath, you will not be allowed to marry him. Have I made myself clear, or is there something I’ve missed out?’

The obvious and angry retort was suppressed, for now she heard the unexpected overtones of jealousy in his assumption that Stephen had come to Bath at her request rather than in response to Caterina’s letter. That’s how it would look. She fled from Richmond. Stephen joined her to provide an escape from a hopeless situation. How convenient. She could have reassured him, but chose not to.

‘Good,’ he said. ‘You’re the only woman I’ve ever chased after, Amelie, and, by heaven, I’ll chase you to the ends of the earth, if I have to.
Shall
I have to?’

‘No,’ she whispered, clasped within the hardness of his arms. ‘You won’t.’

‘Then I shall come to you tomorrow, though I shall be delayed. I’m going to call on Dorna first. What number Sydney Place is she?’

‘Four.’

He kissed her again, more gently, but she held his arm as he turned to go downstairs. ‘My lord … please … don’t hit Tam, will you?’

His laugh was more like a bark. ‘Hah! I’d like to do more than hit him, but I won’t. I shall take Chester to see him. He can hit him if he wants to.’

‘Oh, dear.’

‘Go to bed, sweetheart. You look all in.’

Waiting until the door had closed upon her visitors, she went upstairs, where the relief of seeing Caterina peacefully asleep settled upon her like an eiderdown. ‘Go and take your supper,’ she said to the two maids. ‘I’ll stay here.’

She sat by Caterina’s bed and laid a hand upon hers, feeling the searing pity of a mother for her child’s suffering, more so because she was herself caught up in the same kind of net. Lord Rayne, she thought, had obviously intended to assist his brother by partnering Caterina without realising the devastating effect he would have on an untouched seventeen-year-old heart. But she was not the kind of woman he wanted and inevitably it had showed, causing her more anguish than she had ever experienced before. Nor was he the kind of man to tell her sweet lies or to take pleasure from her adoration. She would have to be told the truth of the matter, and the pain would be terrible without laudanum to dull it. ‘My poor brave little lass,’ she whispered. ‘Knowing will be unbearable. I should never have allowed it to happen.’

Taking it in turns with Lise, Millie and Mrs Braithwaite to stay with Caterina throughout the night, Amelie used the empty hours to view her own unsettled situation in which every negative thought was silenced by the fact that he had come to find her, angry, determined, possessive, and resentful of Stephen. If this latter element gave her no pleasure, it added at least a gram or two of weight to her dwindling confidence. It served him right. Perhaps she should not put his
mind at rest too soon. Stephen would find her attention soothing after that very forthright and quite undeserved put-down just now.

Creeping back to her own bed in the early hours, she fell asleep to the memory of her lover’s voice and the hard pressure of his arms across her back.
By heaven, I’ll chase you to the ends of the earth, if I have to.
Would she now be obliged to tell him the reason why she could not marry him? And if Caterina was taken back to Buxton, where would that leave
her
?

With so many questions to be answered, it was only to be expected that the meeting at Sydney Place the next morning would be an acrimonious and heated one from which even Dorna did not escape unscathed. Amelie heard some details from Lord Elyot, though not as many as she would have liked, when he found her in the rain-lashed garden at the back of the house with a trug full of seed-heads in one hand and scissors in the other.

‘What in the devil’s name are you doing out here in this wind?’ he called, dodging the hair-grabbing tendrils hanging from the pergola.

‘Good morning to you too, my lord,’ she said. ‘No need to ask how the meeting with your sister went, then? Are you the only one remaining standing?’

The gale-force wind whipped the shawl off her shoulder like a spinnaker, and thunder cracked across the distant hills, echoing eerily round the valley. ‘Come inside,’ he said, ‘and offer me some tea like a civilised woman.’ His eyes supported his criticism, for she looked ravishing with her hair everywhere and her gown clinging damply to her body, a far cry from the drawing-room image.

‘Heaven forbid that I should be thought uncivilised,’ she murmured, leading the way back to the house. In the parlour, a fire burned in an iron grate surrounded by a polished oak chimneypiece, and the warm apricot-and-white walls and furnishings, the oak floor, and Amelie’s peach, cream and mauve gown and shawl made it appear that she had dressed on purpose to match the room. Again, she had the pleasure of seeing how he reacted to her taste, how his appraisal of the sparkling glass, silver and paintings held his eyes and stayed his tongue. ‘Well, my lord,’ she said, giving a tug of the bell-rope. ‘Will you be seated, or are you in pacing mode?’

‘Hmm,’ he said. ‘How is the patient? Recovering?’

‘Very much so,’ she said. ‘She slept well, had a good breakfast in bed and is now playing the piano upstairs. Subdued, of course, but not upset.’

‘So she’s none the worse for her escapade?’

‘Worse, my lord? Well, she’s certainly worse for something, though I’m more inclined to put that down to a bruised heart than anything else. I feel very sad and guilty that she felt obliged to take the wrong remedy for it.’

‘Is there one?’ he said.

To avoid his face, she looked out into the storm-ravaged garden. ‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘I suppose there is, but it’s not one Caterina will have access to, unfortunately. She will have to make use of time as a healer.’

Mr Killigrew knocked and entered.

‘Some tea for Lord Elyot,’ Amelie said, ‘and chocolate for me, if you please, and some muffins. I think we have need of muffins.’

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