Regency Rumours/A Scandalous Mistress/Dishonour And Desire (42 page)

They stood facing each other, both remembering, hardly hearing the door open beyond them. But the candles wavered in the draught, and there was Lord Rayne in the doorway, clearly surprised to find the two of them discussing a chronometer.

‘Well, my word,’ he said, coming into the room. ‘What’s this, Chase old chap? A Royal Society lecture, is it? May I stay to listen?’ His two greyhounds slipped through the door like shadows and flopped down upon the Persian rug.

Caterina frowned at him. ‘Royal Society? Don’t tease,’ she said.

‘I’m serious. Didn’t he tell you?’ Spinning a globe on its stand, he stopped it with his finger on England.

‘That’s enough, Sete,’ said Sir Chase, returning the instrument to its box.

‘But shouldn’t Miss Chester ought to know the extent of your abilities, Chase? And anyway, what’s so secret
about your Royal Society membership? I’d be honoured if they invited me to join. Yes,’ he continued, smiling at Caterina’s astonishment, ‘he and Lord Ensdale go up to town together to the meetings. Experts on scientific—’


Leave
it!’ snapped Sir Chase. ‘When Miss Chester wishes to know more about me, she’ll ask me. She doesn’t need to be force-fed with details of my interests.’

‘Sorry. I thought she might like to know.’

‘I
would
like to know,’ said Caterina, softly. She strolled past them towards the door, pausing as Lord Rayne opened it for her. ‘So, where were
you
when you were needed?’ she said. ‘No, don’t tell me. It doesn’t really matter now.’

The door closed behind her with a click of disapproval.

Leaning against the book-lined wall, Lord Rayne folded his arms, watching his friend’s long fingers roam over the polished surface of the mahogany box. The fingers drummed, then stopped.

‘So, where
were
you?’ said Sir Chase.

‘Keeping out of the way. Timed it well, did I?’

‘Perfectly, thank you.’

‘Was I needed?’

‘Not at all.’

‘I may not always be so obliging. I care for her, too,’ he warned.

‘So you said. I believe you. And I also believe she’ll do her damnedest to hang on to her freedom till the last possible moment. I wouldn’t be surprised if she were to make a bolt for it and find herself in some kind of Queer Street. Is that likely, do you think?’

‘You read her well,’ Lord Rayne murmured.

‘She’s done it before, you mean? Apart from the two weddings?’

‘Bolted? Yes, once. Nick and I found her. Don’t ask me any more than that. It’s all water under the mill.’

‘I see. So where is she likely to head for, if she does?’

‘Any number of places, my friend. However …’ Lord Rayne unfolded his arms and went to sit in Lord Ensdale’s swivel chair.

‘However?’

‘Well, I shall be going down to Brighton on Wednesday to take a look at the Prince’s stables. Nick wants a report. If I were to make it known in the right quarters, Miss Chester might ask to be taken down there, too. In fact, I guarantee it.’

‘Excellent. Where would she stay? Not
with
you, surely?’

Lord Rayne smiled at the tone of concern. ‘No, Chase,’ he said, gently. ‘Not with me. She can have the house on the Steyne and I’ll put up at the Pavilion. There’s always room there. Or there’s the Castle.’

‘I wouldn’t like it to look like an elopement, Sete.’

Stretching out his long legs, Lord Rayne lay back, regarding the shadowy ceiling with a quick frown. ‘Wrong direction, old chap. Anyway, it will not have the slightest resemblance to … that kind of thing, so don’t get your breeks in a twist about it. She hasn’t even said she wants to come yet, and it’s not me she wants, but you.’ He sighed. ‘But I’d rather it was you than any other fool.’

‘Thank you, I appreciate that. I wish I could be so certain.’

‘Then you should take my word for it. I’ve known her longer than you. What’s that you’re holding?’

On the palm of his hand, Sir Chase held out a small
medallion rimmed with gold. Small enough to be either a button or a brooch, it was made of white jasper with the image of a negro in black relief kneeling in an attitude of supplication, his wrists and ankles shackled with heavy chains. ‘Seen one before?’ he asked, holding it up to the pool of light.

‘No. What’s this round the edge?
Am I not a man and a brother?
Ah, so this is the Wedgwood medallion, is it? I wondered when I might see one.’

‘It’s Lord Ensdale’s. I have one, too.’

‘So I don’t suppose our lovely Caterina knows you’re a member of the Slave Emancipation Society?’

‘The lady is making a point of not asking any questions that might conceivably betray a shred of interest. She finds it more profitable to dwell on my reputation for fast living. It adds fuel to her argument,’ he added, stifling a yawn, ‘and I don’t want to disarm her completely. Not yet.’

‘Then you must allow me to drop a few pearls before her every now and again, as I did just now. It can do nothing but good. You can protest, mildly, and I’ll ignore you, and she’ll be even more impressed by your natural modesty.’

‘Pitching it too strong, lad. My natural modesty shines through without that kind of fudge. Go and blow your own trumpet.’ Replacing the medallion at the back of the desk, he took a small silver and mother-of-pearl snuffbox from his pocket and, flicking it open with his thumb, offered it to Lord Rayne. ‘It’s my own sort,’ he said. ‘I think you might like it.’

‘I’m honoured.’

Observing the ritual of snuff-taking, Sir Chase felt that there was still more to be said. ‘Why are you suddenly being so damned cooperative, Sete? If I didn’t
know you so well, I’d think you had a trick up your sleeve.’

Lord Rayne sniffed and cleared his throat, blinking a little. ‘Very interesting,’ he said. ‘Thank you. Because, I suppose, if I put my mind to it, I could get seriously under your hooves. But that would salve only my pride and would probably upset Caterina into the bargain. And where would be the sense in that? I’ve told you I care for her. I want her happiness. I’m sticking around her because she wants me to, which is why she’ll want to go down to Brighton with me. Besides, once
you’re
leg-shackled, I shall be allowed to find my own woman without you barging in and taking her off me, just for the hell of it.’

Throwing back his head, Sir Chase roared with laughter. ‘Codswallop, man. You could have any woman you choose, and you know it.’

Lord Rayne yawned, running a hand through his dark hair and gently tousling it. ‘Oh, yes, they’re queuing up for me out there,’ he grinned. ‘Such a bore. By the way, the price of my cooperation is to know how you do that natty cravat. It’s not a Waterfall, is it?’

Sir Chase treated his friend to an exaggerated sigh. ‘You drive a hard bargain, Sete. Come to my dressing-room before breakfast and my man will demonstrate. You’re right, it’s not exactly a Waterfall. Now … ready for the crush?’

Lord Rayne gave the impression that he was debating the prospect when in fact he was thinking of Caterina’s last remark and her rather flushed appearance. He would like to have known what caused it.

On the other hand, Sir Chase’s thoughts had returned to a certain painting of a ship sailing out of Liverpool harbour which he’d seen only a few days ago
on the wall of Stephen Chester’s study. It had four square ventilation holes in the hull.

The truce had been a useful tool in allowing some dialogue that might otherwise have gone unsaid for days, if not weeks. Nevertheless, Caterina was able to delude herself that Sir Chase had taken advantage of it to propel her into making a decision that could, if she’d been left to her own devices, have been delayed for months. In retrospect, it had been a tool of more benefit to him than to her, and the next days were spent in thinking of the very deep water she had wallowed into which would now be almost impossible to wallow out of, even more so than the two near-miss marriages. This time, she had allowed intimacies from which one could hardly walk away without considerable personal embarrassment.

There was another side to this, too, concerning the emotional part of her that had responded to his touch like a caged bird waiting for a chance to fly. It was a part that refused to settle after such an experience, so vivid and alive was the memory of his mastery to which none of her dreams had come close. She could regret having allowed it to happen; she could regret responding to it as she knew she had, but she could not forget it, nor could she look back on it without a certain melting sensation creeping through her body that had as much to do with the man himself as with the experience of being made love to.

The remaining two days at Sevrington Hall passed without incident, partly due to the early departure of Lord Byron and Lady Caroline Lamb, who had decided not to test the good nature of their hostess any further. It was a decision with which everyone agreed. Caterina
decided that to stay closer to Lord Rayne would be best if she were to retain some semblance of control over the delicate situation, and this is what she did, with his willing help. It was, she thought, as if he knew how much she was relying on his guardianship.

Sunday was a relaxing day of walking in the extensive grounds, boating on the lake, fishing, partaking of a hearty picnic, and a tour of Lord Ensdale’s large art collection followed by games of billiards and skittles. Monday was a ride over to Wilton House where, true to his intentions, Lord Rayne persuaded Sir Chase to join him in an exhibition of superb riding skills in the indoor riding school, emulating some of the intricate movements depicted in the set of horse-and-rider paintings hanging in the Large Smoking Room. Apart from a very select few, Lord Pembroke told them, no one had ever come as near to perfecting the
haute école
exercises as well as Lord Rayne and Sir Chase Boston did that day. For Caterina, this was yet another revelation of Sir Chase’s abilities of which she had been unaware, giving her yet more insight into his multi-talented nature.

She failed to make the connection, however, that it was her temporary guardian himself who had initiated this exhibition,
and
the conversation at the dinner table when the subject of warfare underlined Sir Chase’s personal responsibilities to the Prince Regent, and the high regard in which he was held. As before, Sir Chase played it down with some witty irreverence, by which time Caterina was making more revisions to her former prejudices regarding his shallowness. He was, she had begun to realise, anything but shallow. Nor had he, since that very intimate episode, insisted on being in her company.

In reply, she was coolly polite, rather distant, preoccupied with her thoughts, neither ignoring nor rebuffing him. Yet she knew at all times where he was, who he spoke to and especially to whom he paid attention. She could not fault him on that, only on the nagging offence of holding her father to a monstrous debt and using her as a means of discharging it. In short, holding her responsible for her entire family’s happiness. That, and his impressive record as a womaniser. How could she possibly accept such a man as her husband?

Taking her aside after dinner on Monday, Lady Ensdale asked Caterina if she believed her father would allow Sara to stay a while longer at Sevrington Hall, and indeed whether she herself would like it, too, as her sister’s chaperon. Constantine and Sara had become such good friends. What a pity it would be, the hostess said, if they could not have a few more days to get to know each other better.

Caterina’s heart sank. What
would
her father say? That there was little point to young Ensdale’s interest in Sara until her sister could bring herself to oblige them all? Declining the personal invitation, she said what Sara had begged her to say, that she was sure Mr Chester would see nothing improper in the arrangement while at the back of her mind loomed the prospect of a showdown from which neither she nor her father would emerge unscathed.

Sir Chase was waiting for her as she and Lady Ensdale concluded their chat. Offering her his arm, he escorted her outside onto the terrace where several couples stood talking, and she knew by the way he looked at her several times that he suspected her plans might be changing.

‘If I thought there was a chance you would accept,’ he said, ‘I would ask you to travel with me in my coach tomorrow. But there isn’t, is there?’

‘No, Sir Chase,’ she replied, quietly. ‘Not a chance.’

‘So you’re set on keeping me at arm’s length for a while longer?’

She had learnt so much more about him in the last few days, especially that he was well liked by everyone, that he was not the lightweight she believed him to be, that he was intelligent and cultured, talented and physically skilled, a good listener and, if the incident on Saturday evening was any indication, he would be an exciting lover, too. Heaven knows, he’d had enough practice at that. Most of all, he appeared to understand that she was more than capable of knowing what she wanted, even while he was bent on securing her capitulation, humiliating or not. Inevitably, the sacrifice would be hers, not his.

They had moved apart from the others, coming to a halt where no ears could overhear them, where she could just see in the last of the light how the strong planes of his face shifted slightly to await her reply, how his skin stretched smoothly over high cheekbones, over the straight nose and broad noble forehead. There had been times when her body had craved his closeness again, to feel the pressure of his mouth just once more. She could not find an answer to his question.

‘Well,’ he said, smiling, ‘at least that’s not a yes, is it? Did I go too fast for you?’

She looked away at the streaks of purple on the horizon. ‘I think you may already have made assumptions about me … us. It may be best if you—’

‘Caterina, listen to me. I do not make assumptions about you. What I know of you I’ve discovered for myself,
and what I don’t know I will find out. What you should understand is that you will accept me.’

‘I think you should not leap to that conclusion, Sir Chase.’

Quietly, he continued as if she had not interrupted him. ‘You
will
accept me, and we shall be married by special licence with no frills or fuss. Then we shall leave Richmond and go where we can be alone. You and I have that in common, Caterina. We perform better in our own space. Your home has become a cage, and you need to be freed from it.’

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