The Fugitive Heiress (11 page)

Catheryn spluttered but was again forestalled by the earl, who leaned across his desk and spoke rather sharply. “I think this has gone far enough for the moment. No, Catheryn,” as she began to protest “you cannot discuss these matters in so heated a fashion. Not at any rate, in my library. Mr. Caston, my mother means to keep Miss Westering here for the entire season, though it is possible that she did not make that clear when she wrote Lady Caston.” Catheryn stared at Dambroke in amazement, but he pointedly ignored her. “I am sorry Sir Horace has not seen fit to release some of her funds to her own use,” he went on, “but that need concern neither her nor you. She is welcome here and will want for nothing while she is my mother’s guest. I see no reason at this point why she should return to Caston Manor and a number of reasons why she should not do so in your sole company.”

“But, my lord!”

“Now,” Dambroke continued as though there had been no interruption, “I have several things to say. First, Miss Westering.” She looked up, biting her lip at his stern tone. “You will discuss this further with Mr. Caston at a more appropriate time. When you have thought matters over, I think you will come to respect the fact that, rather than conspiring against you, he and his father were merely conforming to your grandfather’s wishes. And you, sir, will also give thought to the matter. I think you will see that Miss Westering, female or not, ought to have been informed of the trust, if not upon the occasion of her grandfather’s death, then certainly when she came of age. If nothing else, telling her would have avoided the development of such suspicions as she now harbors. Where are you putting up in town?” he asked abruptly.

“At … at Grillon’s, my lord, but—”

“Is there any reason for your immediate return home?”

“No, my lord, my father has things in hand, but—”

“In that case, I suggest you take some time to acquaint yourself with London. You may either continue at your hotel, which is a very good one, or you may have your gear brought here. We should be pleased to have you as our guest.”

“Oh no, sir, I could not impose! If I remain, I shall certainly continue with Grillon’s. However, I would much prefer to settle matters now. My parents expect—”

“Mr. Caston, use a modicum of sense,” interrupted the earl sharply. “Miss Westering is of age. You cannot drag her back to Somerset against her will. You are not yet her husband, you know, and if the two of you persist in your present moods, you will end by not speaking to each other at all. I doubt if either of you wants that.” He paused, letting his words take effect. Catheryn remained silent. Glancing first at her and then back at the earl, Mr. Caston let out a long breath.

“There is much in what you say, my lord.” He rose to his feet. “I shall defer my departure for a few days at least.” He took a step toward Catheryn. “Cousin, perhaps I have been peremptory. I had no wish to offend you.”

She stood, speaking stiffly. “We have always come easily to cuffs, Edmund. Perhaps I, too, was hasty.”

He turned to take his leave of the earl. “I thank you for the solicitude you have shown her, my lord.”

“My pleasure. I have a suggestion, or rather an invitation, Mr. Caston.” He smiled his lazy smile. “My mother gives a dress ball the end of next week. I know she would be pleased to have you as one of the company.”

“As to that, I cannot say, my lord, though I’m much obliged and would be honored to attend should I still be in town. Thank you and good day.”

When he had gone, Catheryn fixed a wary eye upon his lordship. He seemed amused. “Your Edmund,” he said, “seems an excellent young man. He will make you a fine husband one day.”

She flared up immediately. “Of all the crack-brained things to say! I suppose you believe him about the money, too!”

He raised a hand, laughing. “Don’t start with me, you outrageous girl! This is none of my doing.” He stopped suddenly, when tears welled over and down her cheeks. Striding forward, he took her gently by the shoulders. “Catheryn, what is it, child? I was but teasing.”

“You think it’s funny!” she accused, trying to stifle a sob. “You promised to help but have done nothing, and now you laugh at me and tell me I ought to marry Edmund! Why did you not just pack me off with him, if that’s what you think I should do!” She began to sob in earnest, but Dambroke gripped her shoulders more firmly and began to shake her.

“Stop it!” he ordered. “Stop that noise at once, Catheryn, or, by God, I shall box your ears!” Shocked out of growing hysteria by the threat as well as by his bruising grip, Catheryn stared up into eyes fierce with anger. “Now, you listen to me, my girl,” he commanded with another shake. “Ashley has checked into your trust thoroughly and there is no breaking it. Far from mismanaging it, your uncle has done an excellent job. There is now a good deal more than the original ten thousand. As for sending you home with Mr. Caston, let me tell you that I fully intended to do so when he arrived. I do not know exactly what caused me to alter my decision, but please bear in mind that I can alter it again.” He relaxed his hold, and his next words came gently. “I shouldn’t have teased you about having him for a husband. It was unmannerly. Besides, I don’t think you would suit.”

Catheryn sniffed in a childlike manner and brushed tears from her face with the back of her hand, comforted as much, oddly enough, by his fierceness as by his apology. “Oh, Dambroke, it’s all so stupid. I beg your pardon. I never really believed they meant to cheat me. It was all that money and … and Grandpapa!” Tears streamed unchecked down her cheeks.

“Calm yourself, Catheryn,” he said quietly. “Your grandfather would never have allowed a penny of your money to be spent on Westering. It would have been exceedingly difficult for anyone to get at it, in fact, before you came of age, and it would most likely have become a bone of contention between you. Now, dry your tears and let’s hear no more about it.” When she could not produce a handkerchief, he offered his own.

“Thank you, my lord. I gave mine to Tiffany. What a weepy day this has been, to be sure!” He stiffened at mention of his sister but said nothing until they reached the door.

“Everything works itself out in time,” he said then, looking down at her with a cool smile and an expression in his eyes that made her feel a trifle giddy. “You should rest now.”

She went upstairs, making a strong effort to compose herself and firmly repressing all thought of that unsettling look. She hoped she was no simpering romantic miss and that she had better sense than to dwell upon a fleeting expression simply because a man was handsome and possessed of a certain charm. Such behavior could only lead to embarrassment, and the whole thing was perfect nonsense anyway. She would do much better to follow his lordship’s very sound advice instead and get some rest. Therefore, discovering Tiffany deeply engrossed in Mrs. Radcliffe’s purple prose, she pleaded a headache and escaped to her own bedchamber, conscious of a feeling of gratitude that the younger girl had barely looked away from her book. The rest of the day passed quickly enough, but the following morning found both girls yearning for exercise. So it was that, despite gathering storm clouds, Mr. Lawrence was accorded the pleasure of meeting them in Hyde Park.

He doffed his hat, greeting them cheerfully, and inquired about Tiffany’s recent illness. She blushed, but Catheryn engaged his attention until she had composed herself, and they rode together amicably for some time before the sight of two approaching horsemen caused Mr. Lawrence to halt an anecdote midsentence. Catheryn had also seen the riders, their high-bred mounts moving at an easy walk. Only Tiffany had failed to observe them. She looked at Lawrence, surprised at his sudden silence, then followed the direction of his gaze. She gasped when she recognized her brother and Captain Varling.

Lawrence spoke immediately and in an undertone. “I would not wish to be the cause of your brother’s displeasure, my lady. I shall take my leave before they are upon us.”

Tiffany nodded a vague agreement but hardly acknowledged his farewell as she turned anxiously to Catheryn. “Do you see that it is Captain Varling with Richard? Oh, Catheryn, I am persuaded that he ought not to be riding yet. He may do himself further injury.”

Catheryn chuckled. “I make no doubt that Dambroke would not be with him if that were the case, Tiff. He would be more like to sit upon him to keep him from his horse.”

Tiffany smiled at the sally but still looked worried. As the horses came together both girls exclaimed their pleasure at seeing Varling out and about, but Tiffany avoided her brother’s eye. He, too, wished them good morning, and Catheryn was relieved to note that he looked perfectly normal and not at all as though she had played him a Cheltenham drama in his library the previous day. His expression was not at all unsettling now but quite clear and friendly. Feeling completely at ease, she answered his greeting with a twinkle.

“It seems that you and Chieftain have been dragged out at an early hour, my lord, and on a dreary morning, too.”

He laughed. “Yes, Cousin, an irresistible force drew us. Tony was determined to get out and scorned the offer of a sedate carriage ride. He threatened to have his horse out for the promenade, so his long-suffering parents begged me to knock some sense into his head. We compromised.”

Catheryn nodded meaningfully at Lady Tiffany, who was steadily observing Angel’s mane. Dambroke was quick to catch the hint, but his tone was cool. “I am glad to see you recovered, Tiffany,” he said.

“Th-thank you, my lord,” she murmured. “I-I am feeling much more the thing this morning.”

The captain glanced sharply from one to the other and then at Catheryn. “Here, Dickon!” he exclaimed. “We cannot ride this path four abreast! Do you and Miss Westering allow the two invalids to ride ahead. You may then keep guard over your respective charges without crowding us.”

Dambroke agreed with a smile but warned his friend that he would break his good leg for him if he dared to push his nag above a walk. The captain tossed him a cocky grin before riding on with Tiffany. Dambroke let them get some distance ahead before he lifted his rein. “Was that not that damned Lawrence fellow riding with you?” he demanded.

“Yes, my lord.”

“Do you continue to encourage that folly, Catheryn? She does not seem to lose interest.” His tone was grave and Catheryn chuckled. “I see nothing to laugh about!”

She turned her head to look at him, her eyes still brimming with laughter. “Do you mean to scold me, sir?”

“I should do so,” was the uncompromising reply.

“Well, you may, of course, with my good will. But you will come to be sorry for it, sir.”

He gave her a puzzled look. “Why is that?”

“Because I believe she is losing interest, my lord. He cannot really be a fortune hunter anyway. He is thirty, you know, and cannot possibly want to wait so long for the money!”

Dambroke gave her an odd look. “Did you discuss this aspect of the situation with Tiffany?”

“I’m afraid I did,” she confessed, and was amazed when he chuckled. “What is it, my lord?”

He shook his head. “I had wondered myself about his continued interest and decided he was clutching at last straws. Your mentioning the money reminded me of something. I believe Tiffany expects to have her fortune when she marries. I as much as told her she would.”

“I beg your pardon!”

The guilty grin flashed across his face. “I was furious at the time, and when she accused me of wishing to retain control over her because of her fortune, I replied—in heat, of course—that I would cheer the day I could turn both her and her fortune over to a properly overbearing husband.”

“I see.” Catheryn gave him a straight look. “How does her trust actually stand, then?”

“It is a normal one, only slightly different from your own.” He shrugged. “I am her guardian until she marries or turns twenty-one, and I control her fortune at my own discretion until she’s twenty-five. The difference is that I could relinquish before she comes of age, had I a mind to, whereas your trustees were committed. I should never relinquish to a man of Lawrence’s stamp, of course.”

“And Tiffany is ignorant of these terms! Good God, Dambroke! You are quite as Gothic as Edmund and Sir Horace.”

“It never occurred to me that I ought to explain the trust to her,” he replied, nettled. “I am also trustee for my brother’s fortune and have never discussed it with him.”

Catheryn shot him a look of scorn. “That is scarcely comparable, my lord. Teddy is a boy of ten, while Tiffany is a young woman. She should certainly be told the truth.”

He frowned thoughtfully. “I think I must disagree. Not that I shouldn’t have told her before. But not now. Wittingly or not, I think you may have forced her to give serious thought to his true intentions. He is undoubtedly laboring under a misconception, poor lad, since she probably misled him herself. But it’s all to the good. Better she should cut the connection on her own than be hurt when he learns the truth.”

Catheryn wrinkled her nose. She wasn’t at all certain that Lawrence would accept rebuff. She had seen his growing frustration and distrusted him. Watching the two riders ahead, she smiled to herself, for they were deep in conversation, riding close to each other. One could not take such things for granted, of course; but, if things went well, Tiffany would have plenty of protection against men like Lawrence. Dambroke soon announced that he had to keep an appointment with his secretary, and the men rode off together. The two girls continued their ride for another half hour or so, stopping now and again when they met an acquaintance. The sky began to clear, and the sun made insistent attempts to shine through the clouds. Tiffany seemed a bit withdrawn. Catheryn forbore to intrude upon her reflections until they reached the house; but, when they entered the hall, she reminded her that the countess expected them to accompany her on a number of errands.

“Oh no, Catheryn!” Tiffany exclaimed, startled out of her preoccupation. “You go, but tell Mama I’ve decided to visit Maggie instead.” She looked hesitantly toward the library and Catheryn, thinking she meant to beg Dambroke’s escort when he had finished his business with Mr. Ashley, agreed to carry her apologies to the countess and went upstairs.