Amanda Scott - [Dangerous 02] (14 page)

Edythe looked outraged, Elizabeth astonished, and Rockland looked faintly amused. Alfred, stunned at first, collected himself to declare furiously, “Whoever you are, you are not Antony Tarrant. He’s dead.”

The elegant gentleman picked an imaginary bit of lint from his sleeve. “So I have been given to understand. In my experience, however, it is wise to have proof of death before announcing a man’s demise to all and sundry, my dear chap.”

“What makes you think we have no such proof?” Alfred demanded.

“If you do, my presence on this mortal coil certainly disputes its accuracy. Come, come, my dear Alfred, surely you must recognize your own brother.”

Charley gasped, but it was not the gentleman’s extraordinary claim that startled her, for she knew that must be false. A prickling of familiarity had stirred when he peered at her through his glass. Only her instinctive withdrawal from such impudence had kept her from seeing then what she saw so clearly now. Sir Antony Foxearth-Tarrant was none other than her old friend, Jean Matois.

At that moment, Letty entered the drawing room behind him, clutching her gray cloak close about her in such a way as to tell Charley, if no one else, that Jeremiah was concealed beneath it. With a direct look, Letty said urgently, “Forgive me for interrupting, Cousin Charley, but could I just have a word with you? Straightaway?”

Charley said calmly, “Letty dear, do allow me to make you known to Sir Antony Foxearth-Tarrant. Sir Antony, this is my cousin, Lady Letitia Deverill.”

“Letitia
Ophelia
Deverill,” Letty said, making her curtsy and adding as she arose, “I am pleased to meet you, Sir Antony.” Her eyes widened when her gaze met his. “Tarrant? Are … are you related to us, sir?”

“He is
not,”
Alfred said angrily. “He is a damned infernal impostor.”

“Now, dash it,” Rockland said, “you can’t speak so to a child. Moreover, the man says he’s your brother. Seems a dashed odd thing to say if he ain’t.”

Alfred stiffened. “Are you calling me a liar, Rockland? Because if you are, I’ll throw you right out of this house. The fact that you’ve gone and got yourself betrothed to Charlotte won’t stop me for a moment. That you can depend upon.”

“But, dash it all, Alfred, is it your house?” Rockland asked, raising his eyebrows. “Appears to me this fellow’s raising some question about that.”

Aware that the so-called Sir Antony’s gaze had been fixed hard upon her from the moment Alfred mentioned her betrothal, Charley kept her eyes on the latter as she said, “Just tell us this, Cousin. Could a missing brother be that minor detail of probate into which you said Mr. Stephen Kenhorn is looking?”

“What if it is?” Alfred said. “I tell you, this fellow’s no brother of mine. Don’t you think I’d know him if he were?”

Rockland said, “Man’s got a point there, by Jove. Didn’t I just say the same not two minutes ago? Moreover, Miss Elizabeth has been sitting there staring at this chap for nigh onto five minutes now, and she don’t look as if she’s seeing a ghost.”

Elizabeth smiled at him, saying in her gentle way, “But I would not recognize our Antony under any circumstance, my lord. I was no more than six when the French war ended, you know, and Antony was home only briefly. I cannot even call his features to mind, for I do not believe I have ever seen a portrait of him at home. Do you know what our brother looks like, Alfred dear?”

“I know what he
don’t
look like,” Alfred said scathingly. “Antony was no damned prick-me-dainty fop.”

Charley said, “Please remember that Letty is in the room, Cousin, and moderate your language accordingly.”

“Now, see here, young woman—”

“As hot-tempered as ever, I see,” Sir Antony said, raising his quizzing glass again. “I do not believe Miss Charlotte’s request was unreasonable, dear fellow.”

Alfred glared at him, then said abruptly, “Look here, stop calling me your dear fellow. Have you got proof, anything at all, to show who you are?”

“Proof? Ah, yes, ‘to have a bliss in proof—and proved, a very woe.’ Wouldst have ‘ocular proof’ or ‘proofs of holy writ,’ sir?” Without waiting for a response, Sir Antony added in a musing tone, “In point of fact, I do not believe I am in any way bound to present such proof to you. Time enough for that when I can meet with that fellow looking to complete probate of St. Merryn’s will, don’t you know.”

Alfred’s eyes had narrowed suspiciously. Now, angrily, he demanded, “What the devil do you mean to do in the meantime?”

Sir Antony raised his glass again, this time surveying the room at large. “Why, I believe I shall stay here and become acquainted with my inheritance—and my family, of course.” The quizzing glass turned toward Charley again as he added, “I’ve a mind to study some of its more decorative ornaments.”

Giggling, Letty said hastily, “Excuse me, please,” and hurried from the room.

Still seething, Alfred looked at Edythe, but she was staring in undisguised chagrin at Sir Antony and paid him no heed. It was Elizabeth who said quietly, “Sir Antony, have you brought servants and baggage with you?”

He smiled at her, and when Charley saw his eyes crinkle at the corners she wondered how he could have fooled her for a moment. He said in a less haughty tone than he had employed so far, “My man Hodson has everything in train, I believe. The butler assured us that there is room in the carriage house for my coach, and a stall in the stable for my hack. I trust my arrival will not put anyone out. This house seems large enough to accommodate one or two more inhabitants, and since I have as much right to be here as Mr. Alfred Tarrant, I will certainly stay.”

Alfred said testily, “I don’t suppose I can stop you. Kenhorn will have to sort this out, but I hope you don’t think you’re going to sleep in the earl’s bedchamber!”

“Now, my dear fellow, did I not say I’ve no wish to put anyone out? I believe the best solution is to allow the servants and tenants to carry on as they have done for years, without interference, until—Kenhorn, is it?—sorts us out, as you say.”

“An excellent idea,” Charley said warmly. “Rockland, since you are nearest the bell, ring for Medrose, and ask him to have Sir Antony’s gear taken to the large guest room in the east wing. His man can have one of the smaller bedchambers nearby.”

“Right you are,” Rockland said, getting up at once to obey her.

Charley turned back to Sir Antony. “Perhaps you should next meet my grandmother, sir. She keeps to her private rooms these days, but I daresay she will want to have a look at you.”

He smiled appreciatively, but Alfred said, “See here, Charlotte, whoever is master of Tuscombe Park, it ain’t you. You ought more properly to have asked Edythe where she thinks this impostor ought to sleep. It ain’t right, you just up and giving orders like that. What’s more, I don’t like it.”

Charley looked at him, fighting her temper. Since she had scarcely laid eyes on him for days, except for mealtimes when she avoided all but necessary conversation, she had nearly forgotten how easily he could irritate her. It was all she could do now not to snap at him. As it was, she said with more bluntness than tact, “I doubt that you or your wife have as yet had time to learn all the rooms in this house, let alone which is most suitable for our guest. I was not putting myself forward. I was merely trying to be helpful, but as usual, Cousin—”

“The green bedchamber, did you say?” Sir Antony appeared to realize belatedly that he had interrupted her. Gracefully begging her pardon, he gestured toward the doorway, where Medrose stood awaiting orders.

Charley looked pointedly at Alfred, who said pompously, “Have Sir Antony’s trappings taken to the green room in the east wing, my good man.”

“They have already been taken to that chamber, sir,” Medrose replied.

“Excellent,” Sir Antony said before anyone else could react.

Alfred said, “I daresay you’ll be wanting to go up at once. We dine at six.”

“Yes, I was afraid you would keep country hours,” Sir Antony said with a sigh. “I do not have any particular desire to sit in my rooms till six o’clock, however, and I can see that you won’t insist upon enjoying my company. Perhaps I can prevail upon Miss Charlotte to show me the gardens, or the principle rooms, or some such thing.”

“Miss Charlotte is betrothed to Rockland here,” Alfred said, indicating that gentleman. “You should perhaps first seek his permission.”

“How do you do?” Sir Antony said, shaking the hand that Rockland held out to him. “My felicitations on your extreme good fortune, sir.”

“Oh, I’m a lucky fellow, all right and tight,” Rockland said. “You won’t credit it, but I’ve been dangling after the chit for nearly four—no, by Jove, it’s six—years now. She’s only just given me the nod this very week.”

“Indeed? I am emboldened to ask what brought her up to scratch at last.”

Rockland grinned. “She recognized my sterling virtues. What else?”

“Well said. Do you object if I steal her away long enough to show me the gardens and stables? I promise you, I’ll not attempt to cut you out.”

Rockland sighed. “Couldn’t do it if you tried. Take her where you will, my dear fellow. It’s as much as your life is worth to attempt to trifle with her.”

As they walked down the front steps toward the sweeping lawn and the lake beyond it, Sir Antony murmured, “Yet another fellow who thinks you can take care of yourself,
mon ange.”
He chuckled. “It occurs to me that it might be both wiser and safer if I call you just plain
angel
now.”

“Good mercy, sir, not if you do so where Alfred can hear you. How did you dare to attempt such an imposture? How did you even know he had a brother? I don’t know how I kept my countenance when I saw it was you. Letty and I had long since decided that you were not quite what you would have had us believe, but—”

“I was afraid of that,” he said, putting a hand under her elbow as they walked along the gravel carriage drive to the garden entrance.

“Letty recognized you, too, you know. Far more quickly than I did.”

“I daresay she had seen Annabelle. She was in the stable yard when I arrived. I saw her when I emerged from my carriage.”

“But where did you get a carriage? I own, sir, I am consumed with curiosity, so I hope you do not mean to fob me off with Banbury tales. I know you are not Alfred’s brother. If he actually has got one, and he’s not dead, he is no doubt just as odious as Alfred is. But won’t they find you out rather quickly?”

“I think I can keep Kenhorn busy long enough to see to the business that brought me to Cornwall,” he said. “Must we continue to walk, or can we sit on that bench?”

“We had better walk,” she said. “I would not be surprised if Edythe were watching us from some window or other to observe every move we make. She would like nothing better than to make trouble for me, I think.”

“In that case, we will walk. Are they all still driving you to distraction? I must suppose you have made your peace with Miss Elizabeth, at least, so why did you agree to marry Rockland? I thought you were set against the whole idea of marriage.”

“I was.” She hesitated, suddenly uncomfortable, because after the scene with Alfred, she had not even thought about apologizing to Elizabeth. She saw that he was watching her, and needing to say something, she blurted, “Alfred wants to turn me into a poor relation. You know the sort I mean. Expected to wait upon others, determined to please, always living under threat of being cast out and left destitute, having nothing to look forward to but pity and perhaps a small legacy if one is lucky. I couldn’t bear it!”

“You didn’t apologize to Elizabeth, did you?”

He sounded disappointed, and she wished very much then that she had apologized. She wanted to tell him everything, that the confrontation with Alfred and her impulsive betrothal to Rockland had put all thought of the scene with Elizabeth out of her head. Somehow though, when she opened her mouth to explain, she could not do it. The unspoken words seemed inadequate, no more than weak excuses.

“I’m afraid not,” she said quietly, “not yet.”

“Ah, well, I expect there hasn’t been an opportunity. No doubt you will speak to her in your own good time.”

His tone was even, the words sounding reasonable, but knowing as well as he did that she had enjoyed a full week of opportunity, Charley felt as if he had roundly scolded her. She wanted to defend herself; but he had said nothing to warrant defense, and she knew her behavior was indefensible.

He said, “What a fine knot garden that is. Someone put a great deal of time and trouble into laying that out, I’d say.”

She glanced at him and saw that he was not looking at the knot garden but at her. When her gaze met his, the expression in his eyes warmed. Encouraged, she said, “The first Countess of St. Merryn designed it about a hundred years ago. She had a great fondness for gardens.”

“I, too, have a fondness for gardens. This one is particularly pleasant.” He was still gazing at her.

“Who are you, sir? You said you would explain this imposture of yours. Why are you here?”

He sighed. “Having said it, I am now forced to make good, I suppose. I am not in the habit of explaining my actions. For that matter, I trust very few people.”

Charley opened her mouth to tell him that he could certainly trust her, but she shut it again. She could give him no good reason to believe her. A cool breeze ruffled her hair, blowing strands across her face. She pushed them away. The pebbles of the path crunched beneath their feet, and songbirds twittered from trees and bordering tall hedges. Looking down, she saw that his well-shined shoes had acquired a patina of dust. He remained silent.

“If you feel that you cannot trust me,” she said at last, still looking at his feet, “I will understand.”

“It’s not that. I did not realize this would be so difficult. I am here in behalf of Wellington, you see.”

She looked at him then in astonishment. “The Duke?”

He nodded. “He is to attend the consecration of the new cathedral in Truro on the fourteenth of June, and he received an anonymous warning that someone intends to assassinate him either before or after the event.”

“Good mercy!”