Regency Rumours: A Scandalous Mistress / Dishonour and Desire. Juliet Landon. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Juliet Landon
Издательство: HarperCollins
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Жанр произведения: Зарубежные любовные романы
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top of the pianoforte. The Haydn sonata caught her eye as she hit the edges with a clack on the rosewood surface. She slammed them down. ‘Do your worst, my lord. There must be more serious crimes a woman can commit than trying to help those less prosperous than herself. If that’s so wrong, then it’s time the law was changed.’

      ‘It isn’t a crime when it’s done openly and above board. By your method, any gypsy or conman could bribe his way in and take his pick of anyone there, even a child, and whisk it away in the dark, never to be seen again. The rules are there to safeguard—’

      ‘I would have cared for them,’ she croaked, on the verge of tears. ‘I would have…oh, you would not understand. People like me are loose screws and addle-pates, are we not? And the women in that predicament not worth rescuing.’

      ‘Women who get themselves into that kind of predicament—’

      She rounded on him, furiously. ‘Tell me, how does a woman do that, my lord? Any woman who gets herself with child will be the talk of the century, surely. Don’t talk such nonsense. And in any case, I am not a gypsy or a conman. I am Lady Chester and I know what women need.’

      ‘Then why could you not have gone to the Vestry with your suggestions?’

      Sending him a withering look of scorn, she replied, ‘Because there was no time for all that. Do you think a woman can wait a week or two while the Vestry makes its mind up?’

      ‘So what about the men released from the pound since you came to Richmond? That was your doing too? And the child?’

      ‘Yes, and I’m proud of my success. The men were desperate. They had families to feed. The child had stolen a carrot. Yes, my lord, a carrot. There now, you can tell the noble Marquess how diligent you’ve been, and then I can remind you how accurate my prediction was, can’t I?’

      ‘About the end of our friendship? Well, yes, that’s quite a collection of skeletons you have in your closet. It must be quite a large closet, for there are still more to come, I believe.’

      ‘Let me help you out, my lord, to spare you the effort. You have my card with my old Buxton address on it, so you sent your man up there to rake up all the tittle-tattle he could find about Sir Josiah and Lady Chester. And how do I know? Because your Mr Todd bumped into Ruben Hurst, who warned me. You see, I’ve known for days, like you. And now you know all, and if I’m not arrested for perverting the course of justice, then I shall certainly make no progress whatever in society. Poor Caterina.’

      Poor Caterina entered on cue just in time to hear the sentiment. Standing with one hand on the brass door-handle, she looked from one to the other, hoping for an explanation.

      Lord Elyot came promptly to his feet. ‘Miss Chester,’ he said.

      ‘Caterina,’ said Amelie. ‘I was saying what a pity it was that you’d have to come looking for the Haydn. Here it is, my dear. Use the other pianoforte, will you?’ She handed over the bundle of music sheets with a smile.

      ‘Yes, Aunt. Thank you.’

      ‘Miss Chester,’ said Lord Elyot, ‘I believe that in a matter of…’ he took a gold fob-watch from his waistcoat pocket, flicked open the cover and glanced at it ‘.about ten minutes, my brother will be calling upon you. He’s a great admirer of Mr Haydn.’

      Caterina’s sweet face lit up with a smile. ‘Is he really, my lord? Oh!’ The door closed again, leaving the two opponents to face each other for the next bout. Lord Elyot resumed his seat. ‘Tell me,’ he said, ‘about the duel, if you will. Would it pain you too much?’

      Amelie had sensed it coming and had to turn away to hide her face from him. Now she must control the anguish that came every time she thought about it. ‘Oh,’ she said, taking a slow deep breath, ‘I expect you must have heard. People are usually ever ready to give their own version of events.’

      ‘That’s why I’d like to hear yours, my lady. I heard that Hurst was responsible for your husband’s death. You should have allowed me to have him arrested while there was still a chance, instead of warning him to flee. I take it that’s what your message to him contained?’

      Her curls bounced as she whipped round to glare angrily at him. ‘You have spies posted at every corner, do you? You must live a depressingly dull life to go to such lengths. Yes, if you must know, I did warn him to flee, but he’d already gone.’

      ‘But why warn him? Because you desire his safety? Your amazing generosity is sometimes hard to understand, my lady.’

      ‘Not from where I stand, it isn’t. Surely you can see that for Hurst to face trial would mean a public airing of events I need to forget, sir. He would say whatever he liked about me to try to lay the blame elsewhere. My name would be blackened, and Caterina’s chances of…well, you know the rest.’

      ‘Yes, I can imagine. So Hurst quarrelled with your late husband, I take it? Gambling, was it?’

      Reluctantly, Amelie recounted the story while roaming from one piece of furniture to the next, touching and tracing the outlines as if to keep herself safely grounded. ‘They played hazard together with a group of friends. It was Josiah’s relaxation. Nothing serious. But Hurst became a nuisance. He craved my attention, and it was noticed. The men laughed it off, but the women didn’t.’

      ‘And your husband?’

      ‘Josiah was twenty-three years my senior. I would not have done anything to hurt him…a younger man hanging around his wife…you can imagine what that would have meant to him if he’d believed it. I suggested excluding Hurst, but Josiah saw only that he lost too regularly and drank rather too much. He did everything too much. Rumours began to circulate about his…well…obsession, I suppose one might call it.

      ‘Then one evening at their club, Hurst lost far more than he could afford to Josiah, and he became abusive. He shouted that I was…no, I cannot say it…’ Her voice broke up, and for some time she stood quaking, clinging to the curve of the large harp that stood in one corner, fingering its gilded scrolls. Eventually, as Lord Elyot waited in silence, she found the strength to continue in a voice husky with emotion. ‘He told Josiah that he was my lover and that he should tend his wife better if he wanted to keep me. It was shocking. So shocking.’

      ‘Did your husband believe that?’

      ‘No, my lord, he didn’t. He knew I would never, never have. But the insult was too near the bone, too wounding to both of us, and he challenged Hurst to a duel. Josiah’s brother tried to reconcile them, but Hurst would not apologise and Josiah would not withdraw the challenge. They met in the woodland early the next morning, but Josiah was no shot and Hurst knew it. He was much older, was Josiah, and he died in his brother Stephen’s arms. Caterina’s father.’

      ‘I’m sorry. And Hurst?’

      ‘Well, you must know how the law stands on such matters,’ said Amelie, staring out into the garden. ‘A nobleman may be allowed to get away with it as a matter of honour, but not a man like Hurst. He knew he’d be brought to trial and condemned, so he fled to Ireland and I believed he would stay there for good.’ She came at last to the sofa where she sank down with her back to the light, fighting the tears. ‘You can imagine the rest, I’m sure. The inevitable gossip, the jealousy of what some seemed to think were my favoured circumstances. It would have been easier for them to bear if I’d been penniless, I suppose, as a result. They could have forgiven me that. Some found it hard to understand why a wealthy woman of twenty-two could be so distressed by the murder of her forty-five-year-old husband, or why she should be so grateful to his widowed younger brother and his family who, as it happened, was one of the few to offer me real help and support. The others were all too afraid of their wives, I suppose, and their wives were too concerned about the rumours to believe totally in my innocence. One quickly learns about true friendship at such times, my lord. The moral of the story is never to challenge anyone to a duel unless you are prepared to lose more than your honour.’

      ‘Well, your advice comes too late for