A Reason to Rebel (24 page)

What was he to do about her? What were these emotions she engendered, so alien to him that he was unable to put a name to them? And what was driving him to resolve her familial difficulties when he had many far more pressing matters awaiting his attention? He had already reunited her with her siblings and could walk away at any time with nothing to reproach himself for. He knew he would not do so but still could not say why that should be. By morning he was still none the wiser and had nothing but a dull headache to show for his cogitations.

They drove to Ramsgate seated closely together but separated by the unbridgeable divide of their individual thoughts. Alex cast frequent glances in Estelle’s direction and would have given much to know what was running through her head. She appeared composed, a different creature to the wildly passionate siren who had woken in his arms a few hours previously. She had smiled at him in such a transparently sensual manner that his resulting passion was almost brutal. But did she now regret her impulsiveness? That was the burning question. To him it was vitally important that she should not.

Alex left the phaeton at the same mews as before, where the lads, who remembered his generosity, were quick to scamper up and take the horses’ heads, deserting a gent who was in mid-rant about some misunderstanding. They walked the now familiar streets in uncomfortable silence. Alex was carrying Estelle’s portmanteau, since she would be spending the night with her sister whilst he and Porter completed their business in town. They would not be able to do so and return to Ramsgate in daylight. Since it was Sunday on the morrow, Alex was spared the inconvenience of explaining Porter’s absence to his employer and planned for them to return at their leisure the following morning.

As they reached number seventeen, the door was opened by Marianne, a vision in blue dimity, before they had even ascended the steps.

“Ah, there you are!” Marianne dropped a curtsey to him and hugged her sister. “Do come inside. Benjamin is already gone to his work but Matthew has insisted on getting out of bed. He has dressed for the first time since arriving here.”

“That is encouraging news,” Estelle said.

They entered the front parlour where Matthew was seated beside the fire. He looked pale and worryingly thin but there was determination in his expression as he too greeted Estelle with a hug before offering Alex his hand.

“Glad to see you back on your feet, Winthrop. I say…” Alex’s words trailed off as he eyed Matthew’s neckcloth askance.

“I tied Matthew’s neckcloth for him,” said Marianne, “for he has quite lost the knack.”

“Ahh, I see, that would explain it.”

“It was to have been a Waterfall.”

“You have given it a new slant, Miss Winthrop.”

Marianne frowned critically at her handiwork. “It is kind of you to say so, but I am not entirely persuaded that I got the folds to fall exactly right.”

Mrs. Porter, a genteel lady of refined manners, entered the room at that moment and bade the newcomers welcome, thus saving Alex the trouble of formulating a diplomatic response. Having been warned to expect Estelle, Mrs. Porter greeted her warmly and did not appear flustered to discover a viscount in her parlour. She welcomed Alex with the respect and deference due to his rank and, as predicted beforehand by Marianne, asked no awkward questions about the reason for his appearance.

Satisfied that the girls understood they must remain indoors, and charging Matthew with the task of ensuring they did so, Alex stood and prepared to take his leave.

“Take great care,” said Estelle gently, her concerned expression making him regret that he could not bid her adieu in a more intimate fashion.

“And send Benjamin my love,” added Marianne, misty-eyed. “I do not for one moment doubt that he will save the day, but you must not permit him to be reckless.”

“Heaven forbid!” Alex flashed a smile at Estelle as he left the room.

Chapter Fifteen

The hours passed with frustrating slowness. Estelle, normally the most patient of creatures, was convinced that the hands on the long case clock in Mrs. Porter’s front parlour must be moving backwards. Its hollow ticking sounded unnaturally loud, intruding upon the dilatory conversation she and her siblings were conducting. She found her attention wandering and her eyes constantly being drawn towards the timepiece. Her restless state affected Marianne too, and by the following morning, Matthew complained he had all but exhausted himself in his struggle to engage the attention of both his sisters for more than two minutes at a time.

“I might just as well have remained in Jamaica for all the attention you two have to spare for me,” he grumbled.

Estelle apologized for her preoccupation but did not attempt to explain it, scarce understanding it herself. It was all right for Marianne—she was engaged to be married to Benjamin, which afforded her the right to openly voice her concerns for his welfare.

Estelle tapped her fingers impatiently on the arm of her chair and disciplined herself to attend to Matthew. Oh, how she wished she could follow her sister’s example and publicly express her fears in respect of a certain gentleman! Thoughts of his smouldering brown eyes and somnolent smile, passionate kisses and questing hands crowded and jostled for position in her mind.

She was getting more worried about his failure to return as the minutes ticked by with such agonizing slowness that she wanted to scream with frustration. Aware of Matthew’s censorious gaze resting upon her, she assumed a façade of neutrality, tamped down her impatience and kept her fears to herself.

“Was that a carriage I heard?” she asked a few moments later, hope flaring as she lifted her head and cocked it to one side.

“Since there is a road on the other side of that window, it is not beyond the bounds of possibility,” said Matthew, whose patience was wearing increasingly thin. “It is doubtless another neighbour following Mrs. Porter’s example and heading for church. Now come, Estelle,” he said as he dealt the cards, “stop imagining things and pay attention to the game, if you please, or I might as well return to my bed.”

“I was only remarking upon the possibility of an unexpected visitor calling. Obviously it cannot be Mr. Porter or Lord Crawley returning, it is far too soon to expect them.”

“Then stop fussing so. We know they intended to pass the night at Lord Crawley’s establishment in town, and if anything had occurred to detain them, his lordship would have sent word. They won’t get here for another hour or more yet. Even if they left before cockcrow they could hardly be expected to cover the distance any faster than that.”

“You are wrong!” Marianne, who felt no necessity to exercise restraint, had pulled the curtains aside and was craning her neck to gain a view of the front steps. “It is them! They are here already.”

She rushed off to open the front door, sprigged muslin skirts swirling in her wake.

“Thank the Lord for small mercies!” said Matthew.

Marianne and Benjamin dallied in the vestibule, wrapped in one another’s arms. Alex strode straight into the parlour without divesting himself of his outdoor garments. He paused as he reached Estelle’s chair, his eyes searching her face, his hand briefly brushing her shoulder.

“You made good time,” she said. “We did not expect you for some time yet.”

“We set out early and my team was keen to stretch their legs. We thought you might be anxious.”

“You don’t know the half of it.” Matthew rolled his eyes.

“It is difficult to remain in ignorance whilst others take all the risks,” said Estelle with dignity. She was a trifle miffed now, feeling Alex had no business looking so disgustingly full of himself when she had imagined all manner of dire misfortunes befalling him. “How did you fare?”

“The seed has been planted.” His voice sounded as tired as he himself, upon closer examination, appeared to be. “We can only wait now and see what we have set in motion, for the next move must be Cowper’s.”

“Tell me everything that happened. I must know it all.”

“Naturally, but we should let Porter relate the particulars. He showed great courage and the story is his to tell.”

“Yes, of course.”

Mr. Porter and Marianne eventually entered the room, hand in hand. Matthew and Estelle exchanged an indulgent glance. The way they were behaving, one might be excused for imagining they had been separated for weeks. Marianne, belatedly appearing to recall they were not alone and that she had social obligations, rang for refreshments and some time was spent making the travellers comfortable. Estelle curbed her impatience and was eventually rewarded when Mr. Porter cleared his throat and the story started to unfold.

“We found the tavern that Cowper frequents, just as you said we would,” he said, causing Estelle to wonder why that should surprise him. Did he imagine that taverns got up and changed their location in the middle of the night? She smiled at the notion but said nothing. “I could not see that Cowper was there at first, never having met the man and only having your description to go by. The establishment was very dimly lit. But I persevered and eventually located him talking to two very rough-looking men whom I did not at all like the look of.”

“I hope you did not do anything rash,” cried Marianne.

“No, my dear, I merely purchased a tankard of ale and positioned myself so that Cowper was clearly in my sights. His two companions left after what seemed like an age and I seized the opportunity to stroll up to his table and seated myself across from him, uninvited.”

“Gosh, how daring!” This, of course, from Marianne, whose eyes were round with admiration. “Did he take exception to that?”

“He looked at me but did not speak and so I had to take the initiative. I did not see any reason to procrastinate—after all, his companions might have returned at any time. And so I merely remarked that I was looking for a cove called Cowper and was I to understand that I had found him? He looked wary and asked who it was that wanted to know. I could see him regarding me closely when I mentioned his name and I don’t mind admitting that it quite unsettled me for a moment. There is something disquieting about his eyes and I did not enjoy being the subject of such close scrutiny.”

“I am sure I should have been terrified.” Marianne reclaimed her beloved’s hand, her face shining with pride.

“Well, I don’t know about that. I suppose I just thought about you and your sister when my courage was in danger of failing me. Anyway, I remembered Lord Crawley’s advice. I was to play it cautiously and not give away information easily. So I said that the man I sought was a colleague of Joseph Winthrop and if I could only find him I might well be able to supply him with information to his advantage.”

“Gosh, how did he respond to that?” asked his faithful admirer.

“He said he was Cowper and wanted to know what business I had with him. I took a long draught of my ale and took my time replying. Then I told him what Lord Crawley and I had agreed between us. I was in articles at Nesbit and Jones in Ramsgate and that Winthrop had called a few days previously to consult with our senior partner.”

“I’ll wager that got his attention,” said Matthew.

“No, I was discouraged at first because he did not react at all. But Lord Crawley had predicted he might play his cards close to his chest. I said that if what I had to tell him was of no interest I wouldn’t waste any more of his time, or mine, and made to move away. But he stopped me by saying, real casual like, that as I had made a point of finding him he might as well hear what was on my mind. Well, I knew I had him then and said that an articled clerk didn’t make much money, and I felt sure that what I had to tell him about Winthrop must be worth something to him.”

“And he said he could not know that unless you told him more,” ventured Estelle.

“Precisely. Well, I told him that I was not that green, that I had dealt with his type before, and information did not come cheap. He looked at me for such a long time then, with such a queer expression on his face, that I felt quite chilled to the bone by it.”

“Oh!” Marianne paled and clutched his hand even tighter. “He does have the most terrifying eyes. They always gave me the shivers.”

“But I stood my ground,” Mr. Porter informed his rapt audience, appearing to positively bask in Marianne’s wide-eyed adoration. Estelle, suspecting him to be buoyed by his daring feat, was unable to condemn him for making the most of it. “I told him I had been sent to town by my employer on an errand and, having overheard that Cowper was very likely being duped by Winthrop, thought I might take the opportunity to seek him out. He wanted to know how I had found him but, again, Lord Crawley had anticipated that question. I told him I had overheard Winthrop saying he had chosen a Ramsgate solicitor to transact his business because it was close to where his daughter was currently residing. It was also a long way away from Leeds, and from Wapping, where Cowper was currently in residence in New Market Street.”