A disturbing smile tugged at Jack’s lips as he scrutinised her face. ‘I think we could both convince her of our passionate regard for one another,’ he murmured. ‘At the very least, we will have to try because I am afraid we shall be staying for a little while.’
Sally was infuriated. ‘So you have changed your mind and decided we are to stay now? How high-handed of you!’
Jack sighed. ‘We must. I have no desire to upset Aunt Ottoline and as Charley said, she is increasingly frail these days.’
‘Your great-aunt is about as frail as an old boot,’ Sally snapped. ‘You are simply afraid of her. Either that, or you have another reason.’
Jack grimaced. ‘Very well. I admit that I have no desire to tell Aunt Otto of Bertie’s latest indiscretion. He is her godson and her heir. I am sure it would cause her concern to hear he was throwing himself away on a fortune-hunting night-club hostess.’
‘You mean that she would disinherit him,’ Sally said. She understood Jack’s reasoning now. Keep the old lady sweet, keep the truth about Bertie and Connie’s elopement from her, and with luck the whole matter might be sorted out and Lady Ottoline be none the wiser. Once again Jack’s cynicism made her feel utterly disillusioned.
‘And if I refuse to play along with your masquerade?’ she asked.
Jack shrugged. ‘I am sure you will find a way to oblige me. After all, I thought that we were both getting what we wanted from our association?’
‘You mean the money,’ Sally said. Her throat was tight. How had she made such an error of judgement? She wished so profoundly that she had never asked him for the two hundred pounds. She had been terribly distressed over Nell’s situation, and equally furious and upset by Jack’s poor opinion of her, but it had led her to make a fatal error. She could see that now, now that she had confirmed every last one of his prejudices against her.
‘I will give you the money back,’ she whispered. ‘I made a mistake asking for it. It is not worth it.’
He caught her arm, his grip fierce. ‘Too late, my sweet. You took the money. You spent it.’
Sally wrenched herself out of his grasp. ‘I’ll pay it back,’ she said. ‘I’ll find a way, sell something …’
‘You already did,’ Jack said. His face was hard as granite. ‘You sold yourself for it, if you recall. And I am sure I can persuade you to do the same again.’
Their gazes locked and he drew her, unresisting, towards him and dropped a kiss on her lips. A shiver racked Sally’s body. How was it possible to feel so distant from this man and yet to feel his touch with a pleasure that she could not hide? It confused and distressed her.
‘You will be my fiancée if I require it.’ He bent his lips to brush the curve of her neck and the quivers of cool sensation skittered along her nerves. ‘You see,’ Jack said, turning her face up to his, ‘it is not so difficult to pretend.’
‘Save your displays of affection for the privacy of your own room, nephew, preferably after you are married!’ Lady Ottoline Kestrel boomed from the top of the staircase. She started to descend the steps towards them.
‘Well?’ Jack whispered. He raised one black brow. ‘Do you agree?’
Sally thought quickly. ‘For this one night only I will pose as your fiancée,’ she said, ‘but not to oblige you, Mr Kestrel. Just as you do not wish Mr Basset’s folly to be exposed to your great-aunt, so do I not want Connie to be subject to her censure. I wish to save this situation as much as you do.’
‘Of course.’ Jack gave her an ironic bow.
Without another word, Sally turned on her heel and walked out of the front door and down the steps. She needed fresh air and time to think. Behind her in the hall she could hear the sound of Lucy’s excited chatter as the nursemaid brought her back downstairs to see her uncle again, as promised. Sally thought of the happy family circle into which she had thrust herself and felt mortified. But then, it was Jack who had insisted on bringing her here and Connie who had forced this whole affair with her elopement. She should not take the blame herself. All she could do was to find Connie as quickly as possible and extract both of them from the situation with minimum fuss.
Sally walked across the cool shaded courtyard, with its fountains and statuary, towards the moat. The later afternoon sunlight shone on the water and dazzled her eyes for a moment. She raised a hand to shield them.
‘Are you all right, Sally, old girl?’
She had not heard Gregory Holt approaching, although now that he was beside her she reflected that she should have been aware of his proximity from the fug of pipe smoke that always enveloped him. Even when he had been a pupil of her father’s, he had smoked a pipe. Sally smiled to remember how she and Nell had teased him about appearing like an old man at the age of only twenty-one.
‘Oh, Greg,’ she said. ‘I did not see you there.’
Greg took her arm and steered her along the path towards a stone bench placed to look out across the moat to the deer park beyond.
‘Wanted to talk to you, old girl,’ he said. ‘I just heard that you are engaged to Jack Kestrel.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Don’t do it, Sal. I know you have shocking judgement when it comes to men, but this is a terrible mistake. Almost as bad as your last one.’
Despite herself, Sally laughed. ‘Must you always be on hand to warn me of the dangers of my romantic choices, Greg?’ She sobered. ‘I should have listened to you about Jonathan, I admit. I am sorry.’
Greg took her hand and gave it a tight squeeze. ‘Should listen to me now,’ he said. ‘Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been a friend of Jack’s since we were in short trousers. He’s a sound man in business and even better if you’re in a tight corner, but he’d make the devil of a husband.’
‘Then rest easy,’ Sally said, ‘for I have no intention of marrying him.’
Greg stared. ‘Then why—?’
‘It is a convenient fiction to explain my presence here to Lady Ottoline,’ Sally said with a shade of bitterness. ‘The truth is that Connie has eloped with Jack’s cousin Bertie and Jack and I are intent on tracking them down. Jack does not wish Lady Ottoline to know the truth as I understand Mr Basset is her heir.’
Greg did not answer immediately. He knocked the bowl of his pipe against the edge of the stone seat and fumbled in his waistcoat pocket for a pouch of fresh tobacco. Only when he had relit the pipe did he reply.
‘Jack’s a fool to think the old lady can be taken in,’ he said reflectively. ‘She’s as sharp as a new pin. And I’m surprised you went along with it, Sal. Not like you.’
Sally sighed. ‘I don’t like it,’ she admitted, ‘I am only doing it for Connie’s sake.’
Greg sighed as well. ‘You take too much responsibility for that girl. You should leave her to make her own mistakes and face the consequences, Sal.’
‘I know,’ Sally said. She remembered Mrs Matson saying much the same thing. ‘But I have a duty to both Connie and Nell, Greg—’
‘Nonsense,’ Greg said rudely. ‘You always did have some bee in your bonnet about Sir Peter’s death being your fault and how you had deprived your sisters of their father’s protection.’
Sally blushed defensively. ‘It’s true.’
‘No, it isn’t.’ Greg spoke roughly, but his tone softened as he glanced at her face. ‘There was nothing that you could have done, Sally.’
For a moment the memories threatened to swamp Sally’s mind. She stared at the smooth green waters of the moat and remembered the river closing over her father’s head and