Regency Rumours/A Scandalous Mistress/Dishonour And Desire (55 page)

‘No!’ The word exploded in a shriek. ‘I cannot agree to that. Caterina must
not
see … Have you shown her? Where is the letter?’

‘In my luggage.’

His voice dropped to a horrified whisper. ‘So she’s seen it?’

‘Yes, of course she has.’

Slowly, his head dropped forward into his hands with a groan that shook his body, shrinking it inside the heavy coat blackened by rain. His hat shielded him, but they knew he had begun to weep. ‘Ruined,’ he sobbed. ‘Utterly ruined. Nothing left, not even credit with my family.’

Freeing her hand, Caterina went to his side, overcome by sadness that he should have been reduced to such a pitiful state, drunk, miserable, and destroyed by events. She was torn between compassion and feelings of revenge, but the ties of blood were strongest. ‘Father,’ she whispered. ‘Why?’

‘You know about it,’ he wept. ‘I never wanted any of you to know, and never you, of all people. It’s all gone terribly wrong, Caterina.’

‘I know. We’ve heard about the mills and the sales of cotton up in Manchester. Is that why you’re going up to the Liverpool docks, to see what can be done?’

To her surprise, he shook his head, took off his hat and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. ‘Not only that. The news of the cotton cargo is nothing to what I heard only two hours ago. Nothing could be worse than
that
kind of news to a small-time shipowner.’ His voice was hoarse with emotion.

‘A slave-trader, Father. Why not use the proper name?’

He flinched at that. ‘Not any more. It’s all over. Gone,’ he croaked.

‘What does he mean?’ she whispered to Sir Chase as he took the chair opposite, leaning his arms along his thighs. ‘Is there something else?’

‘It rather sounds like it,’ he answered, grimly.

I
nstead of any relief she might have felt at the emergence of the truth, at last, Caterina was now more certain than ever that, whatever dreadful truths she was about to hear would never be enough to kill or even to diminish the love she had for Chase Boston. Yes, she had known of her love for weeks, though at what point the knowledge had first crept upon her she could not have said. Perhaps it was right at the beginning when he had marched boldly into her life: perhaps when he had saved it. Whatever the facts, she was sure there would never be another time for the pretence at coldness and rejection she had tried, and failed, to use as a weapon against perceived wrongs. Whatever emerged now would have to be accepted and suffered in the same way that most wives did, with resignation and forgiveness in return for the comfort of a husband’s attentions. She did not believe she wanted to live without him, whatever he had done to win her, whatever his payment, bargain or wager. She did not even want to try. She was his. She would accept what he offered her, would do what he asked, though she prayed he would never ask
her to share him with another. That would be harder to bear than anything, yet she would, if that was the only way to hold him.

The tea-tray was brought in, giving her a chance to consider any disaster that could be worse than the one about which she had heard. After a lapse of months, that would probably resolve itself somehow, but her father was talking about something far more serious than sales.

She carried a cup of tea across to him, then to Sir Chase to whom she whispered her thanks, not needing to explain.

Owlishly, he took the tea from her, holding her eyes with a quizzical look. ‘You have some explaining to do, my lady,’ he whispered.

‘So do you. He’s broken the law, you know. He’s in serious trouble.’

‘I know,’ he said, only mouthing the words.

‘You … you know?’ Yes, she thought, of course you do. Of course.

‘Yes, we’ll talk about it later, shall we? Right now, we need to know what else is upsetting him and what he intends to do about it.’

So, it was as she’d suspected. Sir Chase knew about the slave-ships, and now it was inconceivable that he had not planned to use the information for her father’s downfall, otherwise he would surely have shown some alarm at Mr Tolby’s news. And now Sir Chase would know that, because of some letter from her brother which she had stolen, she had discovered the source of her father’s secret wealth.

‘I’ll ask him, shall I?’ she said.

‘Yes, he’d better hear about his lead mine, too, eventually.’

‘He ought to be going there instead of to Liverpool,’
she whispered, crossly. She went to sit beside her father, taking the rattling cup and saucer from him and placing it on the small table. ‘You’ve been in touch with Harry, Father?’

He nodded, fumbling for the spirit flask wedged in his damp pocket. ‘The mail takes only a day from Liverpool. I had the latest news this morning. I have to go. Damn this thing.’

She lay a hand over his. ‘No more of that. You need a clear head.’

He sighed, sending a look of extreme dislike across to Sir Chase. ‘Yes, you’re right. But can you persuade
him
to give me back my papers? What does he intend to do with them? Blackmail me?’

She caught the lift of one darkly eloquent eyebrow, but had no reply to give. It was, she thought, a distinct possibility in the light of all the trickery that had gone on before. She wanted to be hard, vindictive, to make him suffer, but the years of daughterly respect made it too difficult for her. ‘You’ll have to ask Sir Chase yourself, Father. You have far greater wealth than you allowed any of
us
to know about. Has something happened to change all that?’

‘Yes, it has,’ he whispered, shamefaced, ‘but you would not understand any of my reasons for wanting real wealth, Caterina.’

‘Certainly not, unless I’m given the chance to,’ she replied, caustically.

‘Well now it’s caught up with me at last. I’ve lost all three ships. All three … gone!’ The words faded to a whisper. ‘Serves me right. Serves me damn well right.’

‘But according to Harry’s letter, the
Caterina
arrived with a full cargo at Liverpool. He saw it there himself.’

‘Yes, and before they could complete the off-loading,
some maniac set fire to it, and now there’s nothing left but a charred hulk in the dock and a crowd of angry owners whose ships were damaged by the sparks, all wanting compensation. Thousands of pounds’ worth of damage. Harry is certain it was sabotage.’

Sir Chase’s quiet voice cut through the horrified silence. ‘But you are insured, surely?’

‘No.’

‘What?’

Chester shook his head. ‘I was uninsured.’ His admission wavered on the brink of tears. ‘I could never find anyone to insure me. I believe they may have suspected what I was doing, but I was always careful not to give them any evidence, and, without proof, no one could speak against me. I had to take the risk.’

‘And the other ships?’

‘The same. No insurance. And I’ve lost them, too.’

‘How?’ said Caterina. ‘Where?’

‘Storms off the Caribbean coast, typhoons, I think they’re called. The
Hannah
must have gone down. She’s not been seen for months.’

‘With slaves on board?’

‘I don’t know,’ Chester croaked, looking down at his feet. ‘I don’t know.’

‘And the other one?’ said Sir Chase. ‘What happened to her?’

‘The
Welldone
is in Kingston harbour without a crew or captain. It was the damned weather again. Apparently it’s taken her six months instead of six weeks to cross from West Africa to St Kitts. She carried a live cargo of one hundred and sixty-eight, but not enough water or food for that kind of voyage. They ran out.’

‘Starved, you mean?’ said Caterina.

‘Yes, starved. They had to be thrown overboard.
Some of the crew died, too. The captain headed for Jamaica and left the ship at Kingston, empty, infected, and in poor shape. The crew mutinied and fled, and the captain has taken everything he can lay hands on and fled, too.’ His head, too heavy for him to hold, sank into his cupped palm and rested there, his eyes closed tightly against his daughter’s dark accusing stare.

Shaking her head against the dreadful images, she rose and went over to the window, looking out over the untidy garden and orchard where the rain lashed furiously at the pines, feathering their tips. ‘It disgusts me,’ she whispered, ‘how you can so disregard others’ lives, using them to make your wealth, discarding them, writing them off as losses as if they were bales of something. I had not ever thought you could put your own family into so much danger, either, knowing what the penalty is. Have you no thought for Hannah? Are your tears and moans for what
you’ve
lost, Father? Have you ever shed a tear for those poor wretches whose lives you’ve used up like so much currency? What about the sugar plantation in St Kitts? Is that still a source of revenue?’

‘Hardly,’ he said, stung by her tone. ‘There’s a quick turnover of labour there, the work is so hard. The planters can never get enough of them. But the price of refined sugar has dropped now. The demand for molasses is not as it was when I bought the plantation.’

‘Why not?’

‘Somebody has found an alternative,’ he said, wearily. ‘It’s called sugar beet, easy to grow and harvest over here. I shall sell my share.’

‘Oh, so
you
won’t starve. That must be a relief.’

‘I’m not relieved, Caterina, I’m worried about Harry’s position.’

She responded angrily to that. ‘Oh, Harry! Of course. You must be. Clever Harry, who puts it all into a letter that he entrusts to the public mail, which anyone could pick up and read. Well—’ she caught his reproving glance ‘—
I did,
didn’t I? That’s right, Father, save your concern for Harry.’

‘I want my letter back,’ he said, leaping to his feet in annoyance. ‘It can land me in serious trouble, you must be aware of that.’

‘I am aware,’ Caterina said, ‘that you have landed
yourself
and the rest of our family in serious trouble, Father,’ she snapped back at him. ‘But I imagine Sir Chase may wish to hold on to it a while longer and, if he doesn’t, then I will. I shall keep the letter and the IOU until I have proof that you’ve finished with this abominable business altogether. I shall show it to the authorities if you don’t, you can be sure of that, and you can take the responsibility for what happens to Hannah and the children and all the rest of your property. You set me up, Father, and now I’m turning the tables on you.’

‘You will do as your husband tells you to, no doubt.’

‘I shall,’ she replied, looking at Sir Chase. ‘Accepting his absurd wager was by chance the only good thing you’ve done for some time, except marrying Hannah, who has given you far more than you deserve. You will not think to ask me, I know, but I will tell you nevertheless, that I am
very
happy with my husband, more than ever I could have believed possible. He is all I could wish for. He is all I could
ever
wish for.’

Though the words were for her father, her eyes held her husband’s and watched them change from surprise to the soft caress of love. Amusement, too, for this confession was so unlike the scalding Caterina they had encountered during their hostile marriage-broking.

Taken by surprise, Stephen Chester stared at Sir Chase as if for confirmation, but when the latter’s only reply was an enigmatic smile, his bitterness surfaced in a welter of self-pity. ‘Got her tamed, have you, sir? Well done. I wish you joy. I wish I had gained a wife who would say that about me with so little prompting. But there. She won’t. Not now.’

If Caterina was shocked, it showed only in the slight frown that disappeared as quickly as it had come. ‘Perhaps,’ she whispered, ‘if you had shown Hannah as much concern as you have for Harry over the years, she might have done. What has Harry done to give you happiness?’

‘He’s my eldest son, Caterina. My only son. He needs a good start in life, any father knows that. He’ll be given everything I wasn’t given. He’ll be a gentleman with enough wealth and property to take him to the top. Well,’ he corrected himself, ‘that was always my plan.’

‘To be a
real
gentleman, Chester,’ said Sir Chase, ‘he’ll have to start behaving like one, won’t he? Perhaps you could concentrate your efforts into that, rather than teaching him how to deceive his employers, abuse his father’s trust and squander his money.’

‘Did you not squander your father’s money, Sir Chase?’

‘No, I squandered my own. That was my choice and hurt no one but me. But perhaps young Chester could learn something about honesty and compassion and responsibility for his actions. And how to be discreet, too.’

‘At twenty years old, sir, it’s only to be expected.’

‘At twenty years old, I was responsible and so, I think, were you, sir.’

‘He’s still quite immature.’

‘All the more reason for you to keep him where you can see him, then.’

‘Why, what do you know about him?’

‘Enough. I took a large sum of money off him, remember?’

‘Father,’ said Caterina, turning the conversation away from her brother’s weaknesses, ‘you spoke of Hannah just now as if you had regrets. Is that so? Surely Hannah has done her best to make you a loving wife?’

There was a tiredness, a reluctance about him that made Caterina believe that her question was presumptuous. Indeed, it was a personal question that was none of her business; not the kind of enquiry she had ever made before. Then he seemed to relent, coming to stand by her side to watch the wind sway the pines, ruffling their fronds. ‘She has been a comfort to me,’ he said, ‘in a manner of speaking, but perhaps I should not have leapt into a second marriage as fast as I did. It’s always been a second-best arrangement.’

‘You mean second-best to Mother? You still miss her so?’

He sighed, lifting his scrawny sandy head to watch the rain fall in hesitant runnels down the window-pane, and his voice took on a different quality, rather like a dream that would never be caught. ‘Not your mother, Caterina. It was Amelie. Always Amelie.’

‘Aunt Amelie? Lady Elyot? Father, what are you telling me?’

‘I thought everyone would have guessed. She knows. I was the one to offer for her before Josiah, after your mother died.’

‘But she married your elder brother instead of you. Why?’

‘Because she was a dutiful daughter and her parents preferred Josiah’s offer to mine. He had the knighthood, the wealth, and eventually the inheritance. It was only natural. I was a widower with a family of three. I had to stand back.’

‘Oh, Father. I didn’t realise. But then, when Uncle Josiah died?’

‘I did everything I could to help her through it. It was a terrible few years and I know she was grateful, but it was never more than gratitude. She could not have stayed in Buxton with all the gossip.’ ‘So you still had hopes?’

‘Frail hopes. She took you to Richmond with her.’ ‘Ah, I see. That was to make her obliged to you.’ ‘No, it was not, Caterina. It was entirely for your sake. But then she and Lord Elyot found each other, as you know, and there was no competing with that. I suppose my idea was that, if I’d possessed the kind of wealth that Josiah and Lord Elyot had, I’d have stood more chance of impressing her, somehow. I married again because it was obvious I wasn’t going to win Amelie, and I agreed to move to Richmond ostensibly to please Hannah.’

‘Although it was really to be near Aunt Amelie?’ ‘And to live in the house on Paradise Road where she had once lived. That’s why I never wanted to move. But it was the wrong thing to do. I should have insisted on coming back here. I never felt as if I was part of the Richmond set.’

‘So that’s why you’ve never sold Chester Hall.’ ‘Yes, it was a place to return to, to lick my wounds. As you see. Now I shall be forced to sell it after all, though it’s a far better house to bring up a growing family. You loved it here, didn’t you?’

‘I did, when I was younger. I think you should make Chester Hall your home, Father. Hannah would love the space, and so would the children. I shall live wherever Sir Chase lives.’ Again, their smiles met, secretly.