An Unsuitable Match (20 page)

Two burly footmen brought down his travel trunk and deposited it at the front door. They both groaned as they set the heavy trunk down. Bailey laid David's woollen greatcoat on top. It was the one he always wore when he was in Scotland.

He nodded, pleased that he had had the foresight to be packed and ready for the journey to Norfolk. Anticipating that he would meet with another firm refusal from Clarice's father, David had been planning to leave London within the day. Earlier that afternoon, one of the smaller Strathmore coaches had been brought around into the rear mews.

Lucy cast an eye over the men and back to the trunk.

‘I didn't think it was that cold in Norfolk at this time of the year,' she said.

David nodded. ‘One must always plan for contingencies. If it comes to it, I might be compelled to make a sudden journey further north to hole up at Strathmore Castle for the forthcoming winter, with Langham's daughter as my bride.'

They made the quick journey back to Curzon Street, where David strolled nonchalantly into the ball with his sister on his arm. Not one guest gave them a second look.

‘I had better go before Mama or Papa sees me,' he said. He let go of her arm and they exchanged a brief hug. Lucy rose up on her toes and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

‘That is for Clarice. Good luck, David, and God speed. I hope to see the two of you back in London soon. If not, I shall see you and your new wife when I get to Scotland. Depending on how things go with Papa, I too may be banished after tonight.'

David grimaced, before turning on his heel and hastening back out into the street. His own coach and valet were waiting for him further down the street. As he reached the top of the step, about to climb inside, he looked up and called out to the driver.

‘We need to put as many miles as we can behind us tonight.'

The man tipped his hat, and once David was safely on board, the driver turned the coach northward in the direction of the Great North Road.

The one advantage the country did have over London was the freedom it afforded Clarice. In London she could not go anywhere without a maid or a footman as chaperone, but here at Langham Hall she could roam the estate and local area as she pleased.

After leaving the dell, she decided to walk into the nearby village of Langham. The baker's wife had a talent for pork pies, and with her mind now clear, it was Clarice's stomach that required attention. It would have been easy enough to head back to the Hall and breakfast with Lady Alice, but after making peace with her mother, Clarice needed to walk.

And walk she did.

Langham village was only two miles from the Hall, but leaping over ditches and climbing stiles made the going slower for Clarice than if she had taken the road. By the time she reached the village she was both hungry and thirsty.

After buying a pie, she sat on a small bench outside the baker's and sipped a warm cup of coffee. Then, refusing the baker's offer to give her a ride back to Langham Hall, she began the long trip home on foot. Today was a day to make plans, and for that she needed solitude and peace. Nothing was better than walking the quiet country roads for contemplating one's future.

However, her peaceful solitude was interrupted by her new boots, one of which rubbed the heel of her left foot. She was still a good half-mile from the Hall when she finally had to stop. She walked over to a nearby low stone wall and leaned against it while she unlaced her boot and took it off. Slowly pulling her stocking off her foot, she winced in pain as the blister on her ankle burst.

‘Bugger,' she muttered, then quickly covered her mouth with her hand.

Clarice had actually managed a curse. Where had that ability suddenly appeared from? Then she remembered the choice words Millie had utilised at times from her extensive repertoire. The Marchioness of Brooke was a deliciously bad influence.

‘Damn,' she said, and giggled.

What would David think if he could hear his beloved use such words? She raised an eyebrow at the thought that he might have to get used to the prospect, if he intended to marry her.

She dropped the boot to the ground and balanced her injured foot on it. She looked up and down the road, hoping that someone would happen along and give her a ride home.

‘Where is a bloody carriage when you need one?'

With only the occasional cart making its way back and forth from the village to the Hall, she knew she might sit on the side of the road for hours before anyone came along. She looked up at the sky. A few miles away a bank of dark grey clouds was slowly making its way toward her.

She groaned. A good solid downpour was the last thing she wished to be caught in. With a shrug of her shoulders, she picked up the empty boot and began the long, uncomfortable hobble back to Langham Hall.

Clarice was in sight of the Hall when she heard the rumble of wheels on the road. She turned and saw a black travel coach approaching at speed. Her heart leapt. Word had somehow reached him of her plight: David had come to save her!

‘Thank God,' she said, and waved madly at the driver.

He saw her and began to rein the horses in. The hatch next to him flipped open and he leaned down. Whoever was in the carriage was issuing instructions. He righted himself in the seat and shook his head at her. He urged the horses on toward the house, leaving Clarice standing on the side of the road covered in dust.

She looked down at her filthy coat, completely nonplussed. Why hadn't the coach stopped? Obviously the passenger did not know who she was, as no-one would intentionally leave Lord Langham's daughter stranded by the roadside.

‘He must not have recognised me,' she said. Under her bonnet and long woollen coat, she looked just like any other country lass. With a resigned huff of disgust she hobbled on her way, following the coach.

‘Just wait until I get my hands on you, Mr Radley; fancy not coming to the aid of a damsel in distress. What sort of gentleman are you?' she muttered.

With the pad of her blistered foot sore and her other boot beginning to rub, it was some time before she finally arrived home. By the time she reached the house, the coach had gone around the back and into the stables. She rushed inside the front door.

‘Is he here?' she asked the first footman she met.

He nodded. ‘The gentleman is with her Ladyship in the upstairs drawing room.'

Catching a glimpse of her reflection in the hall mirror, she stopped. Having taken her bonnet off toward the end of the return journey, her hair now bore testament to the strength of the Norfolk wind. Her face was red and dry.

‘This will not do,' she said.

If David had come all the way from London for her, the last thing he needed to see at the end of his long journey was Clarice in such a bedraggled state. Especially when she planned to take him to task for his lack of gallantry in leaving her on the roadside.

She headed upstairs, found Bella and set to the task of making herself presentable for her future husband.

Half an hour later, shod in soft, comfortable slippers, she took a deep breath and knocked on the door of Lady Alice's drawing room. The necklace hung outside the bodice of her gown in plain view, a statement of intent.

As she opened the door, she saw her grandmother seated on a couch facing the door. The visitor had his back to her. Clarice stepped into the room and then stopped.

The look on Lady Alice's face was enough to dash Clarice's hopes.

‘Come in, my dear, and join us,' her grandmother said, her hand patting the empty space on the couch next to her.

As Clarice walked toward her grandmother, the visitor rose from his seat. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a familiar form.

Thaxter Fox.

She turned and quickly tucked the pendant back inside her gown.

‘Good afternoon, Lady Clarice,' he said.

She turned to face him and watched with a fading heart as he took in her beautifully coiffured hair and newly pressed gown. His gaze stopped when it reached her bodice.

His eyes widened and he let out a low, lustful moan. In her haste, she had forgotten to bring her shawl and she realised to her horror that Thaxter had caught a greedy eyeful of her ample cleavage.

Behind Clarice, Lady Alice cleared her throat. Her action had the desired effect and he bent his head and bowed.

‘Mr Fox, what are you doing here?' Clarice replied. The last time she had seen him, he was standing to one side of the dance floor as her father dragged her away from the party.

He raised himself to his full height and gave her a hard smile. She felt a shiver run down her spine. Millie had once made mention of the cold-blooded snakes that inhabited the area around her home in India. Thaxter's smile and the way he held himself reminded her of a cobra. Coiled and ready to strike.

She forced herself to smile back at him.

Be polite. If anything ever happened to Papa, he would control my purse strings. And much of everything else.

‘Why, my dear Clarice, I came to visit Langham Hall, and indulge in all it has to offer,' he replied.

She blinked. ‘Why?'

His smile turned down at the edges. ‘Someday all of this will be mine, so I decided it was time for me to survey my future home,' he replied. The patronising tone in which he spoke had Clarice digging her nails into the palm of her hand.

Pig of a man.

Lady Alice gathered her skirts, stood and came to Clarice's side. ‘Mr Fox informs me that your father thought it a good idea for him to visit while you and I were in residence. Since your father will not return to the Hall for another week or two, it falls to us to be convivial hosts.'

‘Oh,' Clarice replied. Instead of her knight in shining armour, she was going to have to endure long evenings in the company of Mr Fox. The polite smile she had painted on her face would be dry and peeling when her father arrived.

Thaxter Fox's arrival put in peril all her well-laid plans. By the time she had reached the village earlier that morning, Clarice had decided to return to London. A dozen good excuses were at the ready for the inevitable confrontation with Lady Alice. But now with her father's heir an unexpected and most assuredly unwelcome addition to their home, she was, for the time being, stuck in Norfolk.

Lady Alice took hold of Clarice's hand and gave it a gentle pat.

‘I am sure your father's decision is for the best. As Mr Fox is your father's heir, it is our duty to show him the Hall and its surrounds. Your father would expect us to make Mr Fox welcome in his future home.'

Thaxter placed a paternal hand on Clarice's shoulder. ‘As always, your elders have seen the brightly lit path that is the future. I look forward to spending many hours with you, Lady Clarice, taking in the pleasures of the estate. Of course we shall have to await your father's arrival before I can properly examine the records of account.'

As Lady Alice gave an agreeable nod of her head, Clarice caught the wry smile that quickly vanished from the dowager's face. Henry Langham was a man who kept his finances secret from all but a few trusted staff. And his mother.

The dowager countess knew every penny that was earnt and spent on the estate. The chances of Mr Fox being given free rein to peruse the Langham family finances were less than nothing while the current earl lived. The estate records would be under lock and key before Mr Fox had his bags unpacked.

‘Well, I expect you are tired from your long journey, Mr Fox; I shall have one of the servants show you to your room. Did you bring a valet?' Lady Alice replied. Clarice silently applauded her grandmother's skill at changing the subject.

He yawned in a most ungentlemanly manner and added a roll of his shoulders.

‘Yes, it was a most tiresome trip. I had no idea Norfolk was
this
far from London. Though I expect in future I shall spend most of my time in town and only make the occasional trip here. My valet was unwell, so I didn't bother bringing him with me. I have my man of business to attend to my personal matters,' he replied.

Clarice scowled. ‘If you are going to only make the occasional trip to the Hall, who is going to manage the estate?'

Thaxter blinked at what he must have considered a completely ludicrous question.

‘Doesn't your father have a steward? All the titled chaps in London have one, I was led to believe.'

She was about to open her mouth and set him straight about the amount of work involved in running a large estate when Lady Alice stepped in.

‘Now, now, Clarice, you mustn't bother Mr Fox with such matters,' Lady Alice replied. She limped over to the bell pull and rang the bell. ‘Go and rest, Mr Fox, and we shall see you for dinner.'

As soon as he was gone, Clarice and her grandmother exchanged a look of dismay.

‘I had no idea he was coming; if I had known I would have refused to come. You were there; you know he is the reason Papa discovered me dancing with David and made me leave the rout,' Clarice said.

The burning anger she felt at the way Thaxter and Susan had betrayed her continued unabated.

Lady Alice shook her head. They both knew Lord Langham had given them no choice. ‘I am at a loss to explain why your father would send him, and it is odd that your father did not furnish Mr Fox with a letter of introduction for his visit. Though I have heard rumours Mr Fox was making a nuisance of himself at some of the London clubs.'

‘Not to mention running up a small mountain of debts,' Clarice replied, staring at the closed sitting-room door.

Lady Alice raised an eyebrow. ‘Really?'

Clarice nodded. On Thaxter's most recent visit to Langham House, she had inadvertently overheard her father refusing to give him any more funds. Her father's heir had stormed out of Langham House in a filthy temper shortly thereafter. Thinly veiled remarks by Millie a few days later confirmed her suspicions.

‘Perhaps that is the real reason why our friend is visiting the countryside. He may be avoiding some creditors in town,' Lady Alice replied.

‘Yes, well, he might take the opportunity to learn some manners while he is here. He drove past me on the road a little while back and refused to stop when I hailed his carriage.'

Clarice turned to leave. Her days of happily rambling about the estate on her own were, for the moment, over. Worry and disappointment now filled her mind. Where was David? He must know by now that she was no longer in London. She was not inclined to believe that he would have given up their cause so readily. She held a clenched hand over her heart, and forced herself to hope that her father had at least considered David's offer when David came to call on him.

‘Clarice, a word of warning. Until we fully understand Mr Fox's reasons for being here, especially without the presence of your father, I would suggest you make every endeavour to keep well away from him. It would not surprise me in the least if your father did not know Mr Fox was here. Lies seem to come readily from that man's mouth, and there is something about him I do not like. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end every time I see him.'

Clarice recalled the way Thaxter had looked at her when she walked into the room. She had a sense of being sized up like a prize cow bound for sale at market.

She gave her grandmother a tender kiss on the cheek. ‘I think that is very good advice, Grandmamma; thank you.'

Back in her bedroom, Clarice kicked off her slippers and lay back on her bed. All thoughts of convincing Lady Alice to return with her to London had evaporated upon Thaxter's arrival. Neither she nor her grandmother trusted him enough to leave him alone at Langham Hall. The only thing left for her to do was to avoid their houseguest until either her father arrived from London, or David came to rescue her.

‘If I'd had the good sense to realise I was in love with him, I could have made sure David whisked me off to Scotland,' she muttered.

She put a hand over her eyes. Robbing David of his wish for a proper wedding celebration would not have been the best way to begin their married life. No, Mr Fox and his calculated grin would have to be endured.