A Comfortable Wife (29 page)

Frowning, the countess shifted on the
chaise.
“Well…”

“As for Hammersley,” Philip smoothly continued, “there’s no need to concern yourself over his entertainment. He and I had thought to adjourn to the billiard room.” Turning, he bestowed an elegantly condescending look on the Marchioness. “I understand that, due to the late Marquess’s early demise, Hammersley has lacked the opportunity to polish his talents in such manly arts as billiards. I had thought, perhaps, to be of some use to him while here.”

The Marchioness’s expression blanked. “Yes, of course. How very kind…” Her frown grew as her words trailed away.

“So—if you’ll excuse us?” With a supremely graceful bow, Philip turned from the
chaise.
Avoiding Antonia’s eye, he captured her hand and placed it on his sleeve. “Come, Hammersley—let’s escort these young ladies to the stairs. Mannering?”

With that, he led the way; in less than a minute, the drawing-room door was shut upon the twin harpies, leaving the rest of them safe in the hall. Pausing at the foot of the stairs to wait for Catriona, Antonia glanced at Philip. “Quite a
tour de force,
my lord.”

Philip met her gaze; he smiled, deliberately, with the full force of his intent. “As I told you, my dear, I’m not one who generally loses.” Raising her hand, he kissed each fingertip, his eyes on hers all the while. “I suspect you’ll be amazed by what forces I can, when moved, bring to bear.”

The ripple of awareness that shivered through Antonia and the soft blush that tinged her cheeks stayed with him long after she retreated up the stairs.

At eight the following morning, Antonia slipped from the lowering bulk of Ticehurst Place and headed for the stables. The sun again ruled the sky; as she entered the low-ceilinged stables, she paused, blinking rapidly. As her vision adjusted, she saw a cap bobbing in a nearby loose box. She hurried forward.

“I’d like a horse, please. As quick as you can.” Rounding the end of the open box, Antonia cast a swift glance over the bay the stableman was bridling. “This one will do nicely.”

The aged retainer blinked owlishly at her. “Beggin’ your pardon, miss.” He broke off to tug at his cap. “But this one’s for the gentleman.”

“Gentleman?” On the instant, Antonia felt her senses shiver. She swung around—to find herself breast to chest with her nemesis. She took a step back, and hauled in a quick breath. “I didn’t see you there, my lord.”

“Obviously.” Philip studied the tinge of colour highlighting her cheekbones, then let his gaze meet hers. “And where are you headed?”

Inwardly, Antonia cursed. She hesitated, then, recognizing the hint of steel beneath the soft grey of his eyes, capitulated. “I was going for a ride.”

Philip’s brows rose. “Indeed? Then I’ll ride with you.” Reaching forward, he took hold of her arm and drew her closer, clear of the bay the stableman was turning. “So much more suitable,” he murmured, “than a young lady riding alone.”

Suppressing a snort, Antonia swallowed the rebuke with what grace she could muster.

“Here you be, sir.” The groom came up, leading the bay. He handed the reins to Philip, then turned to Antonia. “Now, miss. I’ve a nice steady mare that would suit you. Not one as gets overly frisky, so you won’t have to panic.”

He turned away on the words, heading for the row of boxes across the stables, leaving Philip as the only witness
to Antonia’s stunned reaction. Horror and outrage mixed freely in her expression, dazed disbelief filled her eyes. Then her jaw firmed.

Philip swallowed his laughter and called to the stableman. “I fear you mistake Miss Mannering’s abilities. She’s perfectly capable of managing one of your master’s hunters. By the look of them, they could do with the exercise.”

Frowning, the stableman shuffled back. “I don’t rightly know as how I should, sir. Wondrous powerful, the master’s hunters.”

“Miss Mannering can handle them.” Philip felt his face harden. “She’s a dab hand at reining in all manner of untamed beasts.” Conscious of Antonia’s swift glance, he lifted his head and scanned the hunters shifting restlessly in their boxes. “That one.” He pointed to a glossy black, every bit as powerful as the bay he had chosen. “Put a side saddle on—I’ll take all responsibility.”

With a resigned shrug, the stableman headed for the tack-room.

“Come—let’s wait in the yard.” Taking Antonia’s arm, Philip steered her out of the stable, the bay following eagerly.

Antonia glanced about. “I’d thought Geoffrey or Ambrose would be about.”

“According to the stableman, they’ve already gone out. Or should that be ‘escaped’?”

Antonia grimaced. “You’ll have to admit Ambrose has just cause.”

Walking the restive bay, Philip spoke over his shoulder. “You may console yourself with the thought that your brother is doing an excellent job of putting their ladyships’ collective noses out of joint.”

“Geoffrey?” Antonia frowned. “How?”

“By sticking with Ambrose.” When she continued to look bemused, Philip smiled wryly. “I fear Geoffrey is very much the fly in their ladyships’ ointment. In case you
haven’t yet realized, this so-called ‘houseparty’ was very carefully designed. We each have specific roles: Henrietta, you and me to lend countenance—imagining, of course, that Henrietta is a like-minded soul who shares their ladyships’ proclivities and that you and I will be too involved with each other to notice anything else. Geoffrey’s presence, however, has thrown a definite spanner into the works. Although she extended the invitation, the Countess had imagined he’d go up to Oxford after the last of the parties.”

Antonia narrowed her eyes. “The Countess is a very manipulative woman.”

“Indeed.” Philip’s tone hardened. “And I do not appreciate being manipulated.”

Antonia shot him a glance, then elevated her chin. “Nor do I.”

It was Philip’s turn to glance suspiciously but Antonia had turned away to greet the sleek black hunter the stableman led forth. Under her direction, the stableman held the horse by the mounting block. Philip inwardly snorted and swung up to the bay’s saddle. The instant Antonia had settled her skirts, he turned the bay’s head for the fields.

He held back only long enough to ensure Antonia was secure and in command, then loosened his reins, letting the bay’s stride eat the distance to the trees on the first hill. They drew into the shade of the outliers of the wood and Philip drew rein. He waited until Antonia brought the restive black up alongside, then fixed her with a distinctly strait look. “Now—where are you going?”

Inwardly, Antonia grimaced; outwardly, she lifted her chin. “To meet Mr Fortescue—should he be there to meet.”

“Fortescue?”

“Catriona arranged to meet him at the end of the ride through the woods. He said he’d come to tell her how he’d got on with the Earl. She was to keep watch every day but
at present, she’s convinced herself no one can save her from the Countess’s machinations.”

Annoyance crept into Antonia’s voice as she recalled the hours she had spent trying valiantly to raise Catriona’s spirits. “From my previous experience of her, I would not have believed she would give up so easily. I’ve been telling her she must make a push to secure what she wants from life—that if one really wants something, one has to be prepared to fight for it.”

The bay jibbed; Philip tightened his reins. His eyes, fixed on Antonia, narrowed. “Indeed.” He might have said more had another, more immediate realisation not intruded. “You were on your way to meet a gentleman alone.”

Antonia shot him a frowning glance. “Only Mr Fortescue.”

“Who happens to be a perfectly personable gentleman some years your senior.”

“Who happens to be all but betrothed to a young lady I regard as a good friend.” Chin high, Antonia gathered her reins.

Philip held her with his eyes. “I have to inform you, my dear, that meeting personable gentlemen alone is not the behaviour I expect of Lady Ruthven.”

Antonia held his gaze, her own eyes slowly narrowing, golden glints appearing in the green. Then she hauled on the reins, pulling the black about. “I am not,” she replied, decidedly tart, “Lady Ruthven
yet.
”

With that, she touched her heels to the black’s sides and took off through the woods.

Philip watched her go, his eyes slitted, his gaze as sharp as honed steel. Suddenly, he recalled he rode much heavier than she—he couldn’t let her get too far ahead. With a curse, he set out in pursuit.

Despite his best efforts, Antonia was still in the lead when the end of the ride hove in sight. It led up to a small knoll at the back of the woods; cresting the rise, Antonia
saw a single horseman waiting patiently. Recognizing his square frame, she waved; moments later, she drew up alongside Henry Fortescue.

He returned her greeting punctiliously, nodding as Philip joined them, then, somewhat glumly, turned to Antonia. “From your presence, I take it all is lost?”

Antonia blinked at him. “Heavens, no! Catriona is too well watched for it to be safe for her to ride out to meet you—Ruthven and I came in her stead.”

Ignoring Philip’s glance, she smiled brightly and was rewarded with a smile in return.

“Well, that’s a relief.” Henry’s smile faded. “Not that my news holds out any hope.”

Philip brought his bay up beside Antonia. “What did the Earl say?”

Henry grimaced. “Unfortunately, things weren’t as we thought. There was no legal guardianship established, so the Earl has no real rights in the matter. The Countess assumed Catriona’s guardianship by custom, so there’s no gainsaying her. Not, at least, until Catriona comes of age—but that’s years from now.”

“Oh.” Despite her earlier optimism, Antonia felt her spirits sink.

“Not that we wouldn’t be prepared to wait,” Henry went on. “If that was the only way. But the problem is, the Countess has her own row to hoe. And she’s not one to let up.”

Antonia grimaced. “Indeed not.”

Henry drew a deep breath. “I don’t know what Catriona will say—or do—when she hears the truth.”

Antonia didn’t bother to answer; Henry’s gloom was contagious.

“Then before we tell her, I suggest we establish the facts ourselves.”

Antonia stared at Philip. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that I suspect we have not yet reached the
truth.” Hands folded over his pommel, Philip raised a brow at her. “I took refuge in the library last night—a little habit of mine, you might recall.”

Antonia narrowed her eyes. “So?”

“So, while idly pacing, not having any other distraction to hand, I noticed a family bible on a lectern in one corner. It’s a handsome volume. Out of sheer curiosity, I looked at the fly-leaf. It doesn’t, as I had imagined, belong to the Earl’s family but to the Dallings. Indeed, I imagine it might belong to Catriona as it was certainly her father’s before.”

Henry frowned. “But what has that to say to oversetting the Countess’s schemes?”

“Nothing in itself,” Philip acknowledged. “But the information the bible contains bears consideration. Inscribed on the fly-leaf are the recent generations of the Dalling family. The history clearly shows the Countess is one of twins—her only sister is her twin. As is often the case with twin females, there’s no distinction made between them—no record of who was born first—that fact is stated explicitly in the bible. So, by my reckoning, Catriona’s other aunt would have equal right to act as her guardian by custom.”

“Lady Copely!” Henry sat his horse as one stunned. “She’s always been Catriona’s favourite but she couldn’t come to Catriona’s father’s funeral because one of her children came down with whooping cough. Instead, the Countess arrived and swept Catriona up as if she had the right to do so. Naturally, we all assumed she had.”

Philip raised a hand in warning. “We do not, at this stage, know if the Countess acted with Lady Copely’s assent. Do you know if Lady Copely would be willing to aid Miss Dalling in marrying as she wishes?”

Henry frowned. “I don’t know.”

“I do.” Eyes bright, Antonia looked at Philip. “I saw Lady Copely’s daughter and her husband in town. Catriona told me they had married for love.” Blushing lightly, she transferred her gaze to Henry. “Indeed, she told me Lady
Copely herself had married for affection, rather than status. From all she said, her ladyship sounds the perfect sponsor for yours and Catriona’s future.”

“If that’s so,” Henry mused, “then perhaps Catriona could claim her ladyship’s protection?”

Philip nodded. “It seems a likely possibility.”

“Well, then!” Fired with newfound zeal, Henry straightened in his saddle. “All that remains is to discover her ladyship’s direction and I’ll apply to her directly.” He looked hopefully at Antonia.

Antonia shook her head. “Catriona never mentioned where Lady Copely lives.”

Henry grimaced.

“I suggest,” Philip said, “that as Catriona may have information on how best to approach Lady Copely, it would be wise for you to meet with Catriona prior to hunting up her ladyship.”

Henry nodded. “I confess I would like to do so. But if she’s truly kept close, how will we manage it?”

Dismissively, Philip waved one elegant hand. “A little forethought, a spot of strategic planning and the thing’s done. There’s a small field, part of an old orchard, at the back of the shrubbery. If you leave your horse in the woods on that side, you should be able to reach it easily. Be there at three this afternoon. The older ladies will be snoozing. I’ll arrange for Catriona to be there.”