Regency Mischief (19 page)

Smiling to herself, Eliza walked on. She laughed inside as she caught the crestfallen look on the spiteful young woman’s face. Crossing her gloved fingers, she hoped that Marianne was indeed safe and about to be engaged to Mr Hastings. However, the only way to nip an unpleasant rumour in the bud was to start another, which she hoped would have sufficient credence to at least throw doubt on the story of Marianne’s elopement.

Returning to the house, she discovered that Lady Sarah had gone up to her room to rest and Lord Manners was standing before the window, staring out at the garden. He turned as she entered, giving her a hard look.

‘I have been waiting for you, Miss Bancroft.’

‘Indeed, sir? Forgive me. I have been out.’

‘You seem to have a great deal of freedom for a companion?’

‘I was on errands for Lady Sarah, sir. However, you are correct in thinking she is very kind to me.’

‘You have a way of talking that no doubt inspires confidence in the unwary and particularly vulnerable ladies of a certain age—but I know you for what you are, miss. I am warning you that I shall not tolerate this
situation. My mother has become attached to you and will not let you go—but you should leave while you can.’

‘I do not understand, sir.’

‘I know you are not as you seem.’ Lord Manners moved towards her, glaring down at her. ‘I have heard the rumours concerning you, Miss Bancroft. If you imagine that I shall allow you to steal what belongs to me you are much mistaken. I do not know who you are, but I shall be watching you. Make one slip and I shall have you out of here before you can blink. Your kind belong behind bars and that is where you will end if I have any say in the matter.’

Eliza’s heart sank. She had endured this once from the marquis. He had apologised to her, but now it seemed she had another enemy.

Lord Manners imagined that she was an adventuress and hoping to cheat him of a fortune that should go to him and his children.

‘I am sorry that you should think so ill of me,’ Eliza said. She lifted her head proudly, meeting his angry gaze. ‘I am very fond of Lady Sarah. I shall do nothing to bring her harm. Believe me, I have her best interests at heart and I am not interested in her fortune.’

‘Oh, yes, you would say that,’ he grunted. ‘Allow me to inform you of something you may not know, Miss Bancroft. My mother is intending to return to her home soon. Well, the Dower House belongs to me. It is a part of the estate. Should there be any truth in the rumour that you are her lovechild, I shall have no hesitation in following my father’s instructions. If she acknowledges anyone as her daughter or takes her daughter to live with her—or gives her any part of her fortune—she will lose her widow’s jointure and her home.’ He laughed harshly
as he saw Eliza’s face pale. ‘Yes, that makes you think, does it not? Oh, I grant you, she still has this house in Bath and money my father could not touch—but she would hate to live here all the time. So think about that and make plans for your future, Miss Bancroft.’

‘You could not be so cruel?’ Eliza gasped as she saw the malice in his face. ‘How could you threaten your own mother with the loss of her home?’

‘My father made it a condition in his will,’ Lord Manners said, though she saw a flicker of unease in his eyes. ‘If you care for her at all you will think very carefully, Miss Bancroft. I intend to make enquiries and if I discover that you are my mother’s bastard I shall know how to act.’

Eliza turned away, going out of the room and up the stairs without another word. Her heart was aching. She was caught in a patch of thorns. Lady Sarah loved her. She needed her. How could Eliza leave her—and yet the threat was real.

If Lord Manners discovered the truth, he would force his mother to leave her home and that might have terrible consequences, for living in town was too tiring for her.

Eliza heard from Maisie that Lord Manners had left the next morning for London. She was glad that she did not have to see him again, but she felt that a shadow was hanging over her.

She had said nothing of his threat to Lady Sarah, but she was uneasy in her mind. It was likely that the truth would come out in time and that could mean ruin and heartbreak for Lady Sarah.

Perhaps it might be best if Eliza found some excuse to leave once Lady Sarah was settled in the country. It
would break her heart to leave her mother now that she had found her, but she must do what was best for the woman she loved.

She could not leave her yet.

In all the turmoil of packing and the threat from Lord Manners, Eliza had not been able to dwell on Daniel’s plight. She had hoped he might call during their last day, but he had not done so and she hesitated to write. If he had wanted to see her he would no doubt have sent word, even if he could not come in person.

She thought wryly that Daniel was the one person in Bath who did not imagine her to be an heiress. The look in his eyes as they had lain side by side for a moment that morning had told her that he was not indifferent. Her heart ached because she knew that she might never see him again, but she told herself that it was for the best. Had he cared sufficiently, he would no doubt have spoken before this—but even though she was the child of gentlefolk, she was also a bastard.

Daniel had a proud name and he would want a girl of good background for his wife.

‘Is everything packed, dearest?’ Lady Sarah asked as Eliza came into her room just as she fastened her hat with a long pin the next morning. ‘I should hate to get home and discover that we had left something behind, though to be sure it is a journey of no more than thirty miles.’

‘The maids have been looking everywhere, under cushions and in drawers. I believe everything we shall not need is in the trunks, ma’am, and I have a portmanteau with all the little things we may need on the journey.’

‘Do you have the powders my doctor delivered yesterday?’

‘Yes, I have one in my reticule just in case and there is water in the basket with our refreshments. The others are packed in your little trunk with your jewels.’

‘That will go inside the carriage with us.’ Lady Sarah sighed. ‘I am always so nervous when I travel, though there is really no need. As I said, it is but thirty miles to my son’s estate, but it might as well be a hundred.’

‘You have me to look after you this time,’ Eliza said and smiled at her. ‘There is no need to be nervous, ma’am. I am sure everything will go smoothly.’

‘I do hope so. I hate it when something breaks on the carriage—and I should hate to be held up by a highwayman, as you were, dearest.’

‘I am sure nothing of the sort will happen.’

‘Very well, then, we should go,’ Lady Sarah picked up her reticule and looked around her. ‘Have I left anything?’

‘Your gloves and your fan.’ Eliza picked them up. ‘I shall bring them for you. You need not fear to lose them.’

‘You are such a comfort to me.’ Lady Sarah sighed and left the room, going carefully down the stairs. The housekeeper was waiting downstairs to say goodbye and was rewarded with a guinea and thanks for looking after them. ‘You will not forget, Mrs Browne, I left a letter for Lord Seaton, should he call. You will see that he receives it?’

‘Yes, my lady, certainly. The maids have their instructions. I wish you a good journey. All the staff hope that you will visit again one day soon. We have been pleased to serve you.’

Lady Sarah thanked them and went out, followed by Eliza, who also stopped to thank the housekeeper.

Outside, she looked about her. The weather was cooler and there was a hint of rain in the air. She saw Lady Sarah settled in the carriage and climbed in beside her, taking a last look down the street. It was foolish to hope. Lord Seaton obviously had no intention of calling—unless he was ill again…

Eliza scolded herself for the ridiculous notion that he would attempt to see her before she left town. However, as they were driven away she caught sight of a blue coat from the corner of her eye and, sitting forwards to look back, thought the gentleman standing outside the door of Lady Sarah’s house might just be Daniel. He had called too late and would be told that he had just missed them.

Daniel swore beneath his breath when he was told that he had almost caught Lady Sarah and Eliza.

‘They have but this minute left the house,’ the housekeeper told him. ‘Please step in for a moment, sir. Her ladyship left a letter for you. She asked me to be sure and give it to you, should you call.’

‘Thank you. I should be glad to have it.’

Daniel waited in the hall while the woman fetched the letter. The house had that empty feeling, which comes when the owner is not at home, and he cursed himself for not coming sooner. His wound had troubled him more than he had anticipated and his doctor had advised rest. Even now he was disobeying orders—he had been told to rest for another three days at least—but his impatience to see Eliza had brought him here—only to discover it was too late.

Why had she not told him she was leaving town?

The answer was plain enough. He had given her no reason to think that it would matter to him one way or the other. He should have told her that morning after discovering that she had nursed him through his fever. Daniel cursed himself for a fool. He could offer her very little, because he would have a thousand or two at best once his father’s debts were paid. If, however, she was willing to marry him and become an officer’s wife, living in rented accommodation when they were billeted in a garrison town, or abroad, he would strive to make a better life for them.

But for now he had the pressing issue of his father’s debts to resolve. He intended to post up to London to arrange for the deeds to his property to be taken from the bank and lodged with his lawyer. Meanwhile, Cheadle was in Newmarket with his daughter. Daniel had had a brief note from the marquis, telling him all was well.

Daniel left the house in the Crescent feeling thoughtful. His resentment against Cheadle had gone for some
reason. It had been based on his belief that his father was cheated at the tables, but he had begun to realise that perhaps the late Lord Seaton’s careless play had been at fault. He must sell his estate, of course. Perhaps Cheadle had guessed he was in trouble and wished to buy it?

First he needed to clear up this business of his cousin’s murder. Daniel’s agent must have disturbed a wasps’ nest when ferreting around for the truth. If someone had risked attempting another murder, he must have a great deal to hide. The would-be assassin had run off at once. No one had caught more than a glimpse of him.

Daniel must go to London and speak with his agent personally. He wanted this cleared up soon, because until then he could not risk publicly announcing his intention to marry Eliza. As far as he knew, no one had any inkling of his feelings for her, which meant that she was safe, but once their engagement was announced—should she have him—Eliza’s life might be at risk.

He would not feel certain of her safety until the villain was behind bars or dead, but as he still had outstanding business with Lady Sarah, surely it couldn’t do any harm to call upon her and Eliza in the country on his way back from London?

E
liza had been to the village to take her letter to Kate and three letters from Lady Sarah to her friends to the receiving office. It had cost sixpence to send her own letter for she had crossed her lines in order to get as much on the page as possible.

Lord Manners’s estate was huge and the Dower House was some distance from the main house, which meant that they did not have to meet the family unless they wished. At the moment Lady Sarah’s son was in London. Eliza had allowed the feeling of peace and serenity to ease her mind.

Perhaps Lord Manners would not carry out his threat to make her leave his mother’s employ.
Her mother, too.
Eliza felt her throat constrict. She must not give way to the temptation to tell Lady Sarah the truth, because if she did so Lord Manners would force her to leave her home.

Eliza had observed how much better her mother was now they were settled in the country. They had been
home for ten days and with each passing day she saw Lady Sarah grow stronger. It was evident that she would suffer greatly if she were forced to live in Bath the whole time. The Dower House was comfortable, but not large and they needed few servants to run it. If Lady Sarah was denied her jointure, she might find it hard to maintain her house in Bath, where many more servants were needed.

Eliza knew that she would have no choice but to leave if Lord Manners renewed his threats. It was as she turned off towards the Dower House that she saw a carriage and four heading towards the main house. Her heart sank, because she knew that if it meant that Lord Manners had come to visit she might soon have to leave.

As yet she had not considered where she might go. Betty had told her there would always be a home for her with them, but it would not be right to impose for longer than need be. She would have to look for a new job as soon as she could, which meant she would need a reference. It would be hard to ask her mother, because she would not understand why Eliza needed to leave.

Tears stung the back of her eyes, but she blinked them away. She would have to think of some excuse, perhaps explain that a friend was ill or something of the sort.

How could she leave without telling her mother that she loved her?

If Lady Sarah knew the truth she would not allow her to go—and then she would lose everything.

What was she to do for the best?

‘I have heard from Lord Manners,’ Lady Sarah told her that evening. ‘He has come down with some friends and is to give a large dinner for our neighbours. He
requests that we attend, Eliza—and he has sent me the rubies that belonged to his grandmother to wear tomorrow evening.’

‘Oh…’ Eliza was surprised. ‘Are you sure I was invited?’

‘Yes, of course. Howard knows that I should not go without you. He may not have liked the gossip in Bath, but we are home now and, as I told him, it will soon be forgotten.’

‘Yes, I suppose,’ Eliza said and smiled. Perhaps Lord Manners had thought better of his threat. ‘I shall be happy to accompany you. It must be an important dinner or he would not have sent you the rubies.’

‘I wish he had not bothered. I much prefer my pearls, but I suppose I must wear them as he has requested it.’

‘Which gown will you wear, ma’am?’

‘I think the grey silk. That is trimmed with dark crimson knots and will set the rubies off well, though they do not become me. I would rather have worn the diamonds or the emeralds.’

‘I dare say they are very valuable,’ Eliza said. ‘You must not leave your jewel case unlocked, ma’am. I know your servants would not touch anything, but it would not do to lose them.’

‘You are very right to remind me,’ Lady Sarah said. ‘It is one of the reasons I seldom ask for anything from my son’s strongroom. My pearls are my own; though I should hate to lose them, it would make no difference to anyone.’

‘What should I wear?’ Eliza asked. ‘Would the yellow or the lilac be more suitable for a dinner at Mannington Park?’

‘I think perhaps the lilac,’ Lady Sarah replied. ‘I
shall not sit up late this evening since we are to dine out tomorrow. If you wish to stay up please do, but I shall retire with a book.’

‘I shall do the same, ma’am,’ Eliza said and kissed her.

She went to bed feeling happier. Perhaps she would not have to leave after all.

Daniel saw her walking through the trees towards him the following morning. He had been to the Dower House, spoken to various people, and stabled his horse, walking back towards the village in the hope of meeting her. Eliza had, he knew, been to the village to see if there were any letters waiting at the receiving office. It was something she did every morning. His heart to heart with Lady Sarah had cleared up many things and left that lady glowing with happiness.

‘Miss Bancroft,’ he said and saw her startled look turn swiftly to pleasure. ‘I hope I did not frighten you?’ He smiled, feeling pleasure in the sight of her.

‘No, indeed, sir. Have you been to the house? Lady Sarah was, I know, hoping for a letter from you.’

‘I came personally to give her some good news,’ he said. ‘I am sorry not to have come before, but there was a great deal needing my attention.’

‘I am sure she was glad to see you, as I am.’

‘I have been making arrangements to sell my estate. I have released a small amount of capital from a venture that has nothing to do with the estate and I shall purchase a commission in the Hussars. I believe the army life may suit me, though the pay will not be what I have been used to in the way of income. However, I must cut my coat according to my cloth.’

‘I am sorry you are to lose your estate.’

‘My father’s debts were impossible to meet,’ Daniel said. He moved nearer, gazing down at her. ‘I have been thinking of the life I might have, Eliza. It will not be one of plenty, but I believe I should have enough to purchase a small cottage when I leave the army—or before if my wife should need a settled home.’

‘Your wife?’ Eliza swallowed hard. ‘Am I to wish you happy, sir?’

‘You will make me very happy if you will accept me as your husband, Eliza. I am sorry I can offer you so little, but I find that nothing else will content me but to make you my wife.’

‘You…wish to marry me?’ Eliza stared at him, her heart racing. ‘I…are you perfectly certain, sir? Do you know what you are saying? I may have things in my past, things that would shame you—and your family.’

‘I care for no one’s opinion but my own,’ Daniel said. ‘Besides, I know exactly who you are, Eliza. I suspected something when I saw you with Marianne Cheadle in Bath, but I could not be sure. However, I heard from my agent two days ago and I think it is certain. I have spoken to Lady Sarah and told her the good news. You are her daughter—which I am sure you must have suspected after Cheadle’s behaviour.’

‘You have told my mother?’ Eliza stared at him in horror. ‘Oh, I wish you had not. You have no idea of what you have done. Why did you not speak to me before telling her?’

Daniel was puzzled. ‘I do not understand you, Eliza. Lady Sarah particularly asked me to find her daughter. She told me that she had a feeling you might be her lost child, but she had no way of proving it. Her reaction to the news was very different. She was delighted with the report that proves your connection.’

‘I have known it for a while,’ Eliza told him and sighed. ‘The Marquis of Cheadle was furious, because he thought I might be an adventuress and he believed my mother vulnerable. He threatened me, but then withdrew his threats when he learned that I had tried to help Marianne. He had also discovered the truth and in the end merely asked if I would keep his secret.’

‘Then why have you not told her?’

‘Lord Manners is not so forbearing. He has threatened my mother if she acknowledges me, which she will do now that she knows the truth.’

‘How can Manners threaten Lady Sarah?’ Daniel was puzzled. ‘He is her son…’

‘He will follow the terms of her husband’s will and turn her out of the Dower House. She will also lose her jointure.’ Eliza threw a despairing look at him. ‘We must hurry back, because the news may have overset her.’

‘Forgive me. I had no idea about the terms of her husband’s will. Surely her son will not carry it out? It would be unnecessarily cruel.’

‘You did not hear what he said to me.’ Eliza looked at him, tears in her eyes. ‘Please, I cannot answer your very obliging offer now. I must return to my mother.’

‘I shall come with you.’

‘No, I would rather you did not,’ Eliza said. ‘Would you meet me here tomorrow morning please? I shall have my answer for you then—but I would rather see my mother alone.’

Daniel caught her wrist. He looked at her for a moment, then brought her into his arms. He bent his head to kiss her, his mouth soft and yet hungry on hers. For a moment she allowed him to hold her, swept away by the heady feeling that his kiss inspired.

When he let her go, she gazed up at him in wonder.

‘I wanted you to know that I love you,’ he murmured huskily. ‘Whatever happens, I will look after you—and your mother, if she is in trouble. I am not sure how, but if necessary I shall ask my uncle for assistance. He might make one of his country houses available to her.’

‘How good you are to say it,’ Eliza said and smiled. ‘But she would not hear of it. She has the house in Bath—though I know she loves her home. Forgive me, I must go to her.’

He held her fingers to the last as she trailed them through his hands. He stood, watching her as she ran in the direction of the Dower House, until he could no longer see her. His horse was stabled at the Dower House, but he would not follow her just yet. Instead, he would walk down to the village and take a room for the night at the inn.

As he walked away, Daniel’s mind was concentrated on Eliza. He had no idea that they had been watched and their conversation overheard.

Lady Sarah stood up as Eliza rushed into the parlour. Her face was glowing and she was a picture of happiness as she opened her arms wide.

‘Eliza, my love. I have wonderful news for you…’

‘Lord Seaton should not have told you just like that,’ Eliza said and caught a sob. ‘I was afraid it might have been too much of a shock…that you might be ill.’

‘Come here to me, my love.’ Lady Sarah received her with a gentle hug and a kiss. ‘How long have you known that you were my lost daughter?’

‘I had a ring… I was told it was similar to one the marquis owned and when you told me your story I suspected it. Then I saw the marquis’s ring on his finger and showed him my ring, but he thought I was lying.
He accused me of trying to take advantage of your good nature.’

‘How could he say such a thing to his own daughter? I shall have something to say to him when we next meet. He knew how much I longed for you, my dearest child.’ Lady Sarah’s eyes were moist as she drew her daughter to the sofa and they both sat down. ‘I felt a bond between us almost from the first, Eliza, but some weeks passed before I began to suspect that by answering an advert, quite by chance I had done something wonderful and discovered the child I had lost.’

‘The marquis has realised his mistake. He gave me permission to speak to you…’

‘Then why have you said nothing? Foolish girl, were you afraid it might be too much for me? If only you knew how happy this makes me, Eliza. I have never felt better. I want to tell all our friends.’

‘I think we must still take care. Everyone must continue to be told that I am merely your companion.’

‘Why? I do not mind my friends knowing the truth, my love. I am proud of my beautiful daughter.’

‘Have you not thought what could happen?’ Eliza hesitated as her mother frowned. ‘The terms of your husband’s will are so harsh.’

‘Oh…’ Some of the brightness faded from Lady Sarah’s face. ‘Yes, I suppose the lawyers could make things awkward if they chose, but perhaps they need not know.’

‘Someone may tell them…that person may insist on the terms of the will being observed.’

‘You mean my son, of course.’ She reached for Eliza’s hand. ‘I shall say nothing tonight. We must get through this dinner as best we can. However, tomorrow I shall return the rubies in person. If Howard insists, we shall
go back to Bath and make our home there. The house there belongs to me. I have sufficient money of my own without the jointure to live comfortably on for the rest of my life. Perhaps when you marry I may stay with you sometimes—in the country if you have the good fortune to marry someone with a house in a pleasant area. I have thought Lord Seaton might make you an offer?’

‘I like him very much—but I am not sure…’ Eliza felt unable to explain the circumstances in which she would be living if she married Daniel. Besides, how could she leave her mother? Had Lady Sarah been comfortably settled in her home she would have been happy to become his wife and follow the drum, but she could not desert her mother—especially if she had been forced to live in Bath. ‘I would not wish to desert you.’

‘Foolish child. I will not have you give up your life for mine. If you receive an offer of marriage from the man I think you love, you must take it. I shall be happy for you and we shall spend as much time together as we can.’

‘I am so lucky to have found you,’ Eliza said, throat tight. ‘I do not know quite how it happened, but it is more than I could ever have hoped.’

‘We shall spend the rest of the day quietly. I do not look forward to this wretched dinner, Eliza, but we must bear it. In the meantime, we shall sit together and talk. I want to know all about what your life was like as a child—and I shall tell you how and why I fell in love with Cheadle…’

It was an emotional afternoon, nostalgic and coloured by memories. At the end of it, when they went up to dress for the evening, Eliza was filled with a new-found happiness. She had discovered so much about her mother
that she could never have suspected. Eliza felt so close to her. She had begun to understand her father a little, realising what he had gone through as a young man and how he had become the harsh man that was the Marquis of Cheadle. Except that a part of the man Lady Sarah had loved was still there—and it showed itself in his love for Marianne.