His Lady Mistress (28 page)

His elder brother blushed. ‘Stubble it, you little bagpipe! You don’t ask ladies questions like
that
!’ He turned to Verity. ‘I’m awfully sorry. He’s only eight, you know. Er…you aren’t, are you?’

Gravely, Verity denied it, pushing away the aching sadness that she would never know the joy and pride the unknown Mrs Cranmore must feel.

‘Oh, well. I dare say it’s all right then,’ said George. ‘And you can have a turn batting and bowling too, if you care for it.’

Two hours later Verity took her leave of the Cranmores, promising to come again on the next fine day and to find another dress.

‘That one’s all very well,’ said Ben, frowning at the torn flounce, ‘but you’d run better if you didn’t trip over your skirts all the time.’

Chapter Thirteen

‘T
hey’re late,’ growled Max, shifting in his seat.

Mr Wimbourne pulled out his own watch and then favoured him with a piercing look. ‘My lord, if I might venture upon a word of advice…’

Max sighed. ‘I know. Don’t give Faringdon cause to think I’m rattled in any way.’

The little lawyer nodded. ‘Precisely, my lord. Faringdon has no idea that you will be here. All he knows is that a
caveat
has been entered against the estate. That puts the advantage with you. And while I sympathise with your anger over the way Lady Blakehurst has been treated, it would be as well if you do not allow emotion to cloud your judgement.’

That shot struck home. He had done nothing else since he met Verity.

Richard leaned forward. ‘Is Mr Godfrey Faringdon likely to be here as well?’

Wimbourne shrugged. ‘No doubt, Mr Blakehurst. He is, after all, a beneficiary of full age. Lord Faringdon attends only as trustee for his daughter.’

A bustle from the outer chamber alerted them.

‘Remember, my lord—control yourself,’ hissed Wimbourne as he stood up.

‘Ah, good afternoon, my lord.’ He bowed deeply to Lord
Faringdon. ‘Mr Faringdon.’ He inclined his head very slightly to Godfrey.

Faringdon didn’t bother with any civilities. ‘What the devil is this about, Wimbourne? I received a letter telling me a
caveat
—’ His eyes bulged as Max turned in his seat and stood up. ‘What…what’s
he
doing here? I understood this to be a…a private meeting between the interested parties!’

‘Quite correct, Faringdon,’ said Max, reminding himself not to strangle the bastard. ‘I am an interested party. Very interested.’

‘Bit late for that, ain’t it?’ smirked Godfrey.

A hard grip on his arm stopped Max before he had done more than shift his weight. Fury scalded him. Breathing carefully, he glanced at Richard, who had a death grip on his arm. He nodded in acknowledgement and sat back.

Faringdon and Godfrey seated themselves in the chairs Mr Wimbourne placed for them. After a quelling glance at Max, the lawyer had put the chairs at a discreet distance. Far enough, Max noted, for Richard to grab him in time if his control broke again.

‘Perhaps you would care to look at these, Lord Faringdon, Mr Faringdon?’

Max knew what the documents were—sworn copies of the original will leaving everything to Verity.

Faringdon tossed his on to the desk after barely glancing at it. ‘Means nothing. The will naming my son and daughter as the beneficiaries post-dates this. Lady Hillsden changed her mind.’

Mr Wimbourne’s smile reminded Max forcibly of a cat toying with a mouse. ‘I beg to differ, my lord. Lady Hillsden’s instructions to me were always very clear and she always explained her reasoning. When I drew up her final will, the one naming Mr Faringdon and Miss Faringdon, she told me that she was changing it back because Miss Verity Scott had died.’

Faringdon shifted uneasily. ‘You must have misheard…girl’s married to Blakehurst.’

Again Mr Wimbourne smiled. ‘The instructions were in writing. Perhaps you might care to read her letter…’ He passed sworn copies to both Faringdons.

This document was read far more carefully.

At last Godfrey Faringdon broke the shrieking silence. ‘Must have been confused. That’s what it is. She got confused and made a mista—’

‘Hold your tongue, sir!’
roared his father.

Godfrey glared. ‘Don’t see why I should. It’s more my business than yours. Old girl got a bit fuddled near the end, and—’

‘Made a will while she was not of sound enough mind to do so?’ suggested Max innocently.

Godfrey’s Adam’s apple bobbed wildly as he realised the dangers of unwary speech. ‘I…I…she…’

‘Much as it pains me to assist your father, Mr Faringdon,’ said Max, ‘why don’t you just hold your tongue?’

‘The letter states quite clearly that you, Lord Faringdon, apprised her of Miss Scott’s supposed death. That you hinted the girl made away with herself,’ said Wimbourne.

‘Rubbish!’ snapped Faringdon. ‘I—’

‘Sent her a letter saying exactly that,’ cut in Max. ‘Perhaps you need to refresh your memory. Show them the copies of that letter, Wimbourne.’

Both Faringdons sat reading, their faces becoming whiter by the second. At last Lord Faringdon looked up and said, ‘You can’t prove anything. She’s dead and buried. No one can say what she would have done…she changed her will more often than her carriage horses, so—’

‘There is also the matter of your criminal neglect, Faringdon,’ said Max, forcibly sitting back in his seat.

Faringdon’s face turned pasty. ‘Criminal…’ For a moment he looked as though he might faint, then he rallied. ‘Poppy
cock. Utter nonsense…’ His protests wilted under the fire of Max’s gaze.

‘There are laws, Faringdon,’ snarled Max. His shoulders tensed with the effort of keeping his voice calm. ‘Laws quite clearly delineating the duties of a guardian to his ward. Such as protecting her interests. Such as protecting
her
!’

‘Max!’ Richard’s warning came just in time.

Max clenched his teeth against the urge to choke the life out of both Faringdons.

Mr Wimbourne took over. ‘Lord Blakehurst has made a very generous offer. Very generous under the circumstances. He is prepared to settle for fifteen thousand pounds and the jewellery. Leaving ten thousand to be divided between Miss Far—’

‘What?’
shrieked Faringdon over the lawyer. ‘Damned if we agree to that! Wouldn’t make the offer if he thought it would stand up legally! The money’s ours! The courts will—’

Mr Wimbourne continued unperturbed. ‘Or mount a suit in Chancery.’

Faringdon wilted. ‘Ch…chancery?’

‘Precisely, my lord.’ Mr Wimbourne shook his head. ‘Might take years. Take the Jennings case, for example—1798 it began. Still running. And like to be after we’re all dead and gone. Probably nothing left in the end either.’ He shrugged. ‘But that’s your choice, my lord.’

Faringdon sneaked a look at Max. ‘Need the money, do you, Blakehurst? Finding a wife without a dowry a little expensive, are you?’

‘You offered me a way out, didn’t you, Faringdon?’ snarled Max. ‘Tell me, when you offered to sell your ward to me as a whore, were you worried that this might come out if we married? If someone who’d been told she was dead saw her name in the papers? So much easier if she became my mistress! Then you could claim that you’d said she was dead to avoid the scandal. Was that it? Did you hope that would save you if your son ruined her? Or did you hope that your
treatment of her would one day cause the lie to become truth?’ He dragged in a breath. ‘No, Faringdon. I don’t need the money. But I’ll be damned if I let you rob her! Call it revenge,
gentlemen
! You can accept my offer, or I’ll challenge the will and see that you get nothing!’

Mr Wimbourne cut in sharply. ‘Lord Faringdon, you will naturally wish to take counsel with your lawyers. Shall we meet again? In a fortnight at the same time? That gives you time to seek advice.’

Subsiding into his chair, Max forced himself to remember that backing Faringdon into a corner, where he would fight to the death to save face, would not benefit Verity. And that was what mattered. Giving Verity something that was hers.

Richard spoke up. ‘That will be perfectly acceptable, Mr Wimbourne. We will wish you a good day, now. If Lord Faringdon has any query, he may contact you and you may inform us. Under the circumstances, it might be best if the Faringdons refrain from approaching Blakehurst directly. I may have to leave London and there is no saying what might happen if they chanced on him alone!’

Upon returning home and asking for his wife, Max was informed that her ladyship had not yet returned with the dogs.

‘Well, that’s something,’ observed Richard, as Clipstone removed himself from the library. ‘At least you know that anyone accosting her will be licked to death!’

‘Oh, shut up!’ said Max.

Five minutes later the door opened again and Clipstone reentered. ‘Lady Arnsworth wishes to know if you are—’

Lady Arnsworth swept in. ‘Really, Max, I must insist that you speak to your wife! If I am to continue her sponsor…’

‘Thank you, Clipstone,’ snapped Max. He glared at his aunt, who had the grace to fall silent until the door closed. Then she reopened fire.

‘To have Clipstone actually deny her to me! Not At Home, indeed!’

‘Um, Almeria—’

‘It is all of a piece, though—’

‘Almeria!’

She glared at him. ‘Yes, Max?’

‘Verity is not at home.’

The glare intensified. ‘I am not a dolt, Blakehurst. Clipstone denied her. I know she is not At Home. I do not demand that you fetch her down. Although I must say—’

‘Almeria, she’s not merely not At Home, she’s out,’ said Max, avoiding Richard’s wooden face.

‘Out?’ Lady Arnsworth made the word sound like a bad oyster.

Max nodded.

‘But…she can’t be! Why, I moved heaven and earth to get her an invitation to Lady Torbury’s luncheon! She sent a note to say she was indisposed. And she was to go on to Lady Gwdyr with me afterwards. All the most influential hostesses were there! And in the Park later. Let me tell you, her absence was noted!’

In the face of this appalling programme, Max could fully appreciate Verity’s preference for the cows in the Green Park.

Shaking her head at such depravity, Lady Arnsworth continued. ‘And her conduct last night! She danced with every gazetted rake in London! Positively encouraged them!’

Max found that he was hanging on to his temper by a thread and took a very deep breath. ‘Almeria, surely you could have dropped a word in Verity’s ear,’ he suggested. ‘After all, she has not been to London before. If you don’t warn her which gentlemen she ought to refuse a dance, then—’

‘Oh, she scarce listens to a word I say!’ interrupted Lady Arnsworth. ‘I vow, everyone is speculating on it. Especially her flirtation with Braybrook!’ She shuddered. ‘Why, everybody
knows
his reputation! And
he
wasn’t in the Park this afternoon either.
That
was noted too!’

The unsubtle hint stunned Max momentarily. Verity? And Braybrook?

Having hit her stride, Lady Arnsworth charged on. ‘And as for—’

Max cut her short. ‘I’ll speak to Verity, Aunt. No need for you to say any more on this head to her.’

She sniffed. ‘Much good it would do! I told her
at length
last night in the carriage how shocked I was, how disgraceful her conduct, but all the girl would do was stare out the window. Even when I warned her about Braybrook’s reputation. That he positively specialises in seducing other men’s wives! Not a word did she say. Not one word!’

That, reflected Max, with Almeria in full flight, was only too likely. Memory pricked—Verity beside him in his curricle, crying without him even realising it. How much did it hurt to cry silently?

Richard’s amused voice broke in. ‘Well, give the poor chap his due, Almeria! He hasn’t
got
a wife of his own—naturally he has to seduce other men’s wives. That’s what Max used to do. Stands to reason. Anyway, Braybrook’s a friend of Max’s. No doubt he’s just doing the pretty. No need to fly into the boughs over it.’

Almeria’s glare could have shattered glass. ‘You may laugh, Richard! I am merely thinking of your poor mama. All her hopes! Destroyed by this disastrous marriage!’ She turned on Max. ‘For Richard to be supplanted in this way! Good God! From all poor Caroline Faringdon told me, you can have no surety that a child would even be yours!’

‘What?’
For a moment Max thought the room had sprouted an echo. Then he realised that Richard had started forward as well.

Almeria bridled. ‘Well, really, Max. It can come as no surprise to you, after the way you were trapped. Apparently the wretched girl tried to play off her tricks on poor Godfrey, so one can only expect—’

‘If I hear that repeated, Almeria, by you or anyone else,
they’ll wish they had cut their own tongues out before I’ve finished with them,’ said Max in deadly tones.

‘Amen to that!’ growled Richard.

‘Well!’ Her face an unbecoming mottled purple, Almeria stalked to the door. ‘I hope I know when my advice is unwelcome!’

Max inclined his head. ‘So do I, Almeria. But not as much as I hope you know when to take advice. I shall escort Verity myself this evening. Good day.’

The door shut with a bang.

Unable to remain still, Max paced around the room, swearing.

Perched on the edge of the desk Richard said calmly, ‘About time.’

‘For what?’ snapped Max.

‘For you to realise that Verity needs more than the protection of your name.’

Max took a very deep breath. ‘Braybrook,’ he said carefully. ‘Are you suggesting that Verity
is
encouraging his advances?’

Richard frowned. ‘Don’t start on that again, Max. How the devil would I know? Only arrived last night. If she is, you know who to thank for it. Frankly, I doubt it. But since Braybrook is far too intelligent to maul a lady in public, since his manners are impeccable and he’s an all-round decent sort, discounting the fact that he’s bedded every bored and disgruntled wife in London, then I think it’s possible that Verity might not even realise the danger until the damage is done.’