The Rake's Redemption (10 page)

“You are kind, Sir Theodore. But I do not believe that John has deserved such an honour. He is not nearly so diligent an officer as you pretend. I know my brother better than that.” She held up her hand to cut off the protest he was about to make. “I cannot accept such a distinction under false pretences, Sir Theodore.”

“But you will attend, Judith? You must know the depth of the regard I have for you.” Judith recoiled from the wheedling tone. The man was a deeply unattractive mixture of pathetic and presumptuous. Then he capped his pleading with what could only be a veiled threat. “John certainly does. It is one of the reasons he has allowed me to help him so very much with his notes. It pains me to consider how he would have fared otherwise.”

She had to agree to attend the ball. For one thing agreement helped her get Sir Theodore out of the house before her temper had the chance to rise. For another father would expect them to attend such a ball so she was losing nothing by agreeing to be there. Just not as guest of honour.

She could just about cope with the look of sympathy Mrs Rogers threw her as Sir Theodore followed Bridges out. The sick feeling of dread in her stomach she couldn’t begin to deal with. If this was the direction her future was to take she couldn’t face it. But in the face of John’s stupidity what else was she to do?

~

There wasn’t much sympathy forthcoming from Aunt Matilde. She came back in as breezily as if she’d never slunk out to avoid putting up with the bold Sir Theodore in the first place. To announce that she and Judith would visit with Amara that afternoon.

“A ball is a splendid idea anyway. All the fashionable regiments would think of nothing else. So why wouldn’t Sir Theodore?” There was no point in answering when someone was only concerned to justify their point of view. No point in trying to avoid visiting Trefoyle either when you couldn’t come out and say you didn’t want to meet Thomas Stainford. Silence couldn’t protect one’s sensibilities from Matilde Sinclair’s incision though.

“Anyway Thomas won’t be there. He’ll be hard at work training the militia at their barracks. Though if you have no feelings for him Judith I cannot see why you should wish to avoid meeting him.”

Useless to protest that wasn’t her concern. Once Aunt Matilde had decided on something no amount of fact would alter her opinion.

“Of course I understand you were angry with him for going off to Spain. But it’s a long time ago now Judith. Eligible young men aren’t so commonplace these days. Especially when you were so very particular in your season.” She didn’t actually come out and say that choice was limited for a niece who was now an ape leader but Judith heard the words clearly enough. And Aunt Matilde didn’t even know she was ruined.

Amara Guilmor was delighted to see them and not in the least averse when the conversation was turned to Thomas Stainford. She made no bones about discussing the earl’s decision to disinherit Thomas with Matilde, but then the two of them were as close as girlhood friends can be. “Still very comfortable with the allowance his grandfather settled on him, Matilde. I think the last earl knew his son was likely to be precipitate and his grandson to be impulsive.”

Judith knew the two of them were watching her for her reaction and she kept her lips tight. Far wiser to learn from her elders and betters than to betray what she thought.

“You knew Judith that the Earl asked Thomas to transfer to the regulars and go to Spain to keep an eye on Charles.” Charles Stainford had been the younger twin. Although only some minutes separated him from Thomas he could have been a younger brother. Dreamy, gentle and charming, liked by everyone and paid attention to by no one. Soldiering was an unlikely profession for him to choose, but as the younger son he really only a choice of that or the Church, he never could have expected to inherit.

“When Charles ran away to marry Jane the Earl was distraught. Charles had always favoured his mother’s looks and I think Penwick thought he was losing Charlotte all over again. Anyway he charged Thomas to take care of his brother. You had gone off to Chloe’s with your father, Judith. By the time you came back they were all three of them gone.”

He could still have written and explained. Asked her to follow him. She would have done that then as a green girl. Perhaps better he hadn’t as things had worked out.

“Jane was a lively little thing, Judith. I always thought she had set her cap for Thomas. Or would have done if you hadn’t been in the way.” Amara Guilmor was indiscreet to a fault. And wrong, plain wrong.

“That is preposterous, Amara. I was not in the way.” Maybe that was protesting a little too much. So Judith posed a question. “Then why would she have married Charles?”

“A good match for her. The younger son certainly, but still plenty of money. And Charles was.” She stopped and began again. “Charles is dashing and debonair. And easy going.”

Amara was letting her imagination run too far away with her, far too far. For the first time ever on a visit to Trefoyle it was a relief to have the coach brought round. Except that Thomas Stainford chose that moment to arrive in his landau. Judith could have wished the ground to part when she realised who it was but Aunt Matilde had to stroll over to chat to him, smiling as if she had expected to see him. Had she and Amara contrived this?

“We had Sir Theodore to call this morning.” That was unnecessary. It was none of Thomas’ business who called at Oakenhill. And anyway Aunt Matilde had avoided the visit.

“How diverting for you. Did he impart anything of interest?” This was Thomas at his least appealing, cynical and quite charmless. Sir Theodore might be a fool but she wasn’t about to be drawn into a cabal to denigrate him. And boost Thomas Stainford’s ego in the process.

“Only his plans for a regimental ball.” You could rely on Aunt Matilde to boost any egos in need. “To celebrate the completion of training.”

“For a future date then.” When had he grown so sarcastic? Back before he had been sweet enough to steal your heart. Bittersweet as it turned out and probably all as carefully calculated as the way his man had inveigled her groom away. But then if he had everything so well calculated why had he made her his offer? Had he hoped she’d turn him down and his conscience could be assuaged at no cost to himself?

“Colonel Horsley was most charming in his invitation.” Amara and Matilde could support her a little more. The pair of them looked as if they were about to burst out laughing.

“I don’t doubt it. Sir Theodore has all the graces.” That was one sneer too many. It was bad enough that your aunt and your friend were conspiring to humiliate you, but standing here while Thomas Stainford amused himself was more than anyone should be asked to tolerate.

“You are unkind and unfair.” It was hard to sound outraged when you secretly agreed every word that was being said, but pride would not let her join in with their indulgent game.

“Perhaps, Judith, but Sir Theodore is a dangerous man. Foolish, and conceited enough to be stubborn in his foolishness. You should tread warily with him.” Thomas thought he could lecture her? Sir Theodore wasn’t the only one wedded to a fine conceit of himself. Or was it his opinion of her that was so low? Poor little Judith who had to be protected from her own inadequacy. Except when it had suited Thomas Stainford. Well she didn’t want his pity.

“Thank you for your advice, Major. Aunt, shall we go now? Amara, thank you for your hospitality, I shall hope to see you in London.” Where Thomas Stainford would be safely out of the way. Head as high as she could manage Judith led the way back to the Hampton coach. As they drew away down the driveway she could see Amara laying down the law to him about something. So at least he wouldn’t be left in peace to enjoy his little triumph over her.

And John was right, the windows of this coach were irritatingly loose. Judith reached out her hand to press the glass back against its frame until a tisk from Aunt Matilde let her know just how irritating she was being. It seemed she couldn’t manage anything properly.

The Tresham town coach didn’t have rattling windows. It didn’t have draughts or shakes or any discomforts that could be avoided. It was plush personified, even the bumps in the road were soaked up by the springs in a way Judith couldn’t fathom but mightily enjoyed. It was followed by another Tresham equipage, a barouche for the servants and the luggage. Had Judith wished to take Sherbery with her a spare groom would surely have been found. She couldn’t bring herself to enjoy it wholeheartedly, a part of her felt that would be disloyal to father, but it made the journey to London much more pleasant.

Her aunt chattered relentlessly, except about what Judith wanted to discuss, just how deep a mess John was in. That she avoided adroitly in favour of her subject of preference, Thomas Stainford. “He is the perfect foil for you Judith. It was obvious even when you were both much younger.” A veiled reference no doubt to her present advanced and unwed age. Which was an ungrateful thought since Aunt Matilde had not stinted on her season and yet had not once reproached Judith with her unwillingness to take. Though that had probably led her to her present attitude of knowing what was best for Judith.

“Still you should enjoy yourself in London, Judith. We shall shop. My dressmaker will enjoy sewing for someone of such fashionable proportions.” Since Aunt Matilde hadn’t gained a pound since her own season that was overdoing it and Judith had to object.

“Oakenhill cannot stretch too far, Aunt.” Lord knows what she’d find when she got back, father and John were quite capable of selling anything that could be moved. Just that by the sound of things there wasn’t enough of Oakenhill to satisfy John’s creditors.

“Oakenhill doesn’t need to stretch dear, if I cannot treat my favourite niece what is the use of being married to Tresham. A new gown for the ball I think and a walking dress. Or two.”

“Aunt, I will only be in London for a week.” Even that might be too long, but the thought of leaving all the worrying behind had been irresistible. Except it had climbed into the coach right with her.

“That will be quite long enough Judith, she is very speedy. You know my dear, it’s a form of cowardice not to follow your heart. Tresham was not always as steady as he is now. As a young man he had some odd notions. He gave me quite a bit of trouble, but it was worth it. As it will be for you.”

Judith couldn’t help blurting out her incredulity. “You think there’s the slightest chance that I would consider Thomas Stainford as anything to me? Am I so desperate?”

“I don’t know about desperate Judith, but the two of you find it difficult not to squabble on sight. That’s usually an indication of something.” Matilde Sinclair sat back with the satisfaction of one who has trumped an opponent’s opening ace. “Sir Theodore doesn’t have that effect on you.” Ace and king both trumped.

There really was no point in arguing. Judith told herself her aunt meant well, but she couldn’t know what a rake Thomas Stainford really was. And that wasn’t all of it. John had cornered her before they left. His debts of course, the need he had for her to urgently consider Sir Theodore as a suitor: the man who held her brother’s ruination in his pocketbook. Apparently Sir Theodore hoped she’d reconsider his invitation to be guest of honour at his regimental ball, the acceptance tantamount to a declaration of betrothal.

Her instinctive reaction to tell John to be damned, that she was going to leave him to his ruination. That way they’d be a matched set, brother and sister both ruined. But of course it wasn’t that simple,  John could face a duel if Sir Theodore refused to cover his notes, and father couldn’t lose another son. That part of it Aunt Matilde should know far better than she did, judging from the snippet she’d overheard between her aunt and father in the library. Unless John had kept back the full extent of his desperation from them.

“For a week Judith, forget the whole matter. Relax and enjoy yourself. I know how hard you work for Oakenhill, dear. It was my home, happy days, but it is your father’s responsibility now, and one day it will be John’s and not yours. So there is a limit to what you can do, Judith. For a week forget it and we will amuse ourselves and not tell Tresham how much of his blunt we’ve spent. Agreed?”

Of course put like that Judith couldn’t refuse her conspiratorial aunt.

~

Thomas Stainford couldn’t refuse his godmother’s brother either. Sir Edmund Hewston had made it quite clear that refusal would result in the Loyal East Mercian Volunteers being disbanded. Those who truly would volunteer would be given their bounty and transferred as replacements to battalions already in Spain, the others becoming Sir Theodore’s problem to pay off.

“The damned man has been agitating, Thomas. You’ve upset the good Colonel considerably.” He paused long enough to give Thomas a chance to defend himself from the accusation then went on when Thomas refused to rise to the bait. “Which is a damned good thing in my view. Fellow has no right to call himself colonel of a regiment if he can’t manage the men. How’s the training going?”

“Slowly sir. There is a considerable leeway to make up still. March would have been difficult, but January will be doubly so. Musketry is coming along but drill is more sluggish. Some of the officers are too weak to lead their companies.” Thomas spoke firmly. Sir Edmund might have called him down to London a week early but he would still expect an accurate assessment. And there was no point in sugaring the report, that would only rebound on him later.

“There is no leeway possible, Thomas. The Peer insists on the January date. Some green battalion that was sent out as fully trained failed in the line. Had to be rescued by a Portuguese battalion of all things. You can imagine Wellesley’s reaction. So now he wants your men two months early so he can be sure of them.”

“Yes sir.” Thomas checked himself from protesting the impossibility of this new timeline. It was always better to acknowledge the order then wait till you were asked what you needed to achieve it.

“Well, can you do it?” Sir Edmund was testy, he must realise how much he was asking.

“Yes sir. With some help it should be possible.”

“Can’t get rid of Horsley yet, Thomas. Thought I‘d made that clear. The fellow has to pay for the regiment until we ship it to Spain. You’ll just have to manage with him till then. Government’s not made of money. What else?”

“A Sergeant-Major, and two captains to replace the weakest of Horsley’s officers. There are enough old soldiers in the ranks to fill out some passable sergeants.” And if Sir Theodore Horsley could be prevented from blocking Thomas’ changes. The accelerated training plan would be obvious even to the most lame brained and Sir Theodore for all his faults was not slow to identify threats to his own position.

“How many will take the bounty and ship to Spain, Thomas?” Ten guineas a man was a fortune to men in the ranks of the militia, and most wouldn’t realise before they signed up that there would be deductions for kit and charges from what they would actually receive. They would still be rich for a while. Till they drank or whored it away. Or a musket ball ended their life.

“Over half I think.” Between the old soldiers who found life boring, and the young men who thirsted for adventure, and the discontented or indebted who couldn’t wait to jeer their landlord goodbye.

“I can find you a draft of perhaps a hundred and fifty. Won’t fill your ranks, but still.” If Thomas could persuade three hundred or more of the militia to transfer such a draft would indeed give him a strong battalion. After years of war most of Wellesley’s line consisted of half strength battalions or less.

“And you, Thomas. Up to it?”

“I am recovering in earnest, Sir Edmund. Fresh country air and exercise.”

“Aye, well go and get some more of it. And good luck Thomas.”

This time he didn’t waste time on any of the paintings on his way out. His task had just increased monumentally but Thomas was easier in his mind. Replacing officers was never pleasant and it would be an awkward moment when the replacements he’d just been promised arrived. But the new men would give him the chance to drill the battalion to where it should be. And displacing John Hampton from the head of his company would ensure that Judith’s last brother didn’t die on a Spanish battlefield as Jeremy had.

~

In the coach Aunt Matilde was like a little girl with a doll. “Lovely, absolutely lovely, Judith. So very fashionable. Isn’t she Tresham?” Which question was unfair and pointless. The Earl of Tresham had given every indication that his attendance at Lady Robson’s ball was a penance to be borne only if he could find a few like minded friends and a card table. So asking him to comment on whether or not Judith’s gown was fashionable was a complete waste of time.

Unfortunately the long suffering lord made an elementary mistake with his answer which did not please his wife at all. He sat up in his seat and smiled across at Judith. “You look like a princess, my dear.”

“That was not the intention, Richard.” For days they’d been chasing round in pursuit of the new vogue, Ottoman exotic. Judith’s existing ball gowns had been dismissed with a quite hurtful alacrity.
‘Far too boring’ or ‘last season the year before last.’
Nothing would do but that Judith be presented as a vision of the seraglio. It had to be Circassian nymph. So being described as a princess rather missed the mark.

“We are lucky that Rosemary’s ball is out of season. By next spring this will be commonplace. But you my dear, will stun tonight. Princess indeed.”

And she should stun, after all the effort and expense. And part of her wanted to stun, the part that was glad to slough off the cares of Oakenhill and devote her brain for a while to whether a peasant girl’s pink bodice would be velvet or satin. Obviously set off by Spanish slash sleeves, that was a given, whichever fabric you chose. She’d drawn the line though at the helmet cap of frosted crepe embellished with silver tassels. Even in the depravity of an Ottoman harem no woman would be forced to wear such a monstrosity.

Aunt Matilde had fought hard for the pink kid slippers, but lost the battle of the neckline
‘far too high Judith, you have a lovely bosom’
and the skirmish over gloves.
‘White is so old, colour is the new elegance.’
Matilde had cleverly solved the critical need for the gown to have such a very full fringe at the feet by retaining a tail for Judith to loop over her wrist when dancing. So more embellished than she would have chosen for herself, more colourful than anything she’d seen worn to a ball for years, Judith was the height of fashion. Or frivolity personified, depending on your point of view.

No prizes for guessing which side of the fence Amara Guilmor plumped for. They’d no sooner congratulated their hostess on the Egyptian theme she’d used for decoration when Amara swooped. “Delightful, just delightful. You could have carried off a deeper shade my dear. Richer, more languorous.” She must have seen the warning light come on in Judith’s eyes. “If you’d wanted to of course. But so clever to hold to a simple ornament for your hair.” In the end Judith had restrained herself to three feathers and a lace square. To her aunt’s disgust.

Amara was more moderate in her views on head dress. “I cannot believe that people, women you would think would know better, are going around with turbans on their heads. It will never catch on. Though Rosemary has done well with her ballroom. Have you met Jerome, Judith?”

Judith knew better than to make any attempt at answering. That was clearly superfluous when Amara Guilmor looked set to continue with her eclectic diatribe. But something of her puzzlement must have showed because she was vouchsafed an explanation.

“Jerome was in Egypt as an ensign, Judith. His first taste of action was Abukir Bay. Ten years ago now. So his mother has been very clever to combine the latest fad with her ball to celebrate his return home. An excellent idea to have a private ball too. Far better than Almacks. I believe Rosemary intends to have waltzing.”

Judith knew that the shocking dance would never have been permitted at the fashionable Assembly Rooms, but a hostess could do as she wished at her own ball. Even if the more conservative of the ton were scandalised, the young would be thrilled. And there were enough sparkling girls here to make Judith feel geriatric

“Now give me your card, Judith and I’ll make sure you dance with the most eligibles.”

Her attempt to frustrate Amara’s intention was doomed even before Matilde Sinclair joined with her friend. “The Robertson boy, Amara, and don’t forget Tresham’s godson.” When she eventually got the card back it was a fair way to full with a mixture of names and initials, most of which she couldn’t recognise.

She learned who
‘VA’
was though when she and Jerome, now a tired looking captain with one sleeve pinned to his tunic came to the end of their allotted quadrille.

“Thomas!” He was as calm as though drilling his troops, showing none of the shock she felt. The man was supposed to be safely in Northamptonshire training his soldiers. As he reached for her hand Judith tried to protest. “I cannot dance with you, this is promised to v...” Judith couldn’t help letting her voice trail away. How could you claim to be promised to a set of initials you didn’t know. Amara was a minx.

He just took the card from her fingers, glanced at it, and smiled. “My godmother is having difficulty coming to terms with my disinheritance. You have promised this dance to the Viscount Alsbury, Judith. I’m sorry if that disappoints you.” He showed no sign of mirroring that disappointment and Judith was oddly flattered by his enthusiasm. Thomas could be sweet when he wasn’t lecturing her or slandering his commander.