The Rake's Redemption (14 page)

“He was waiting for me to leave his office, damn it.” Judith for once was pleased that her father was abed upstairs. He would have objected to Sir Theodore’s use of such language and an argument would have ensued. Father had commented on John’s increasing intemperance since he kept company more and more with Theodore Horsley. Still Sir Edmund Hewston could have employed more tact with Sir Theodore. If only to spare her from the repercussions.

“The whole lot of them are against me, Judith. Oh, I know what they think. An earl’s son is one of their own, no matter whether he had the clothes off his brother’s wife or not.”

Judith couldn’t help imagining how her life would be spent listening to tirades like this, unless she was clever enough to avoid being in the same room as her husband. Like an spoiled child he could only become more frustrated, more ready to lash out at any opposition to his will. She looked at Theodore’s thinning hair and fleshy cheeks and felt a wave of repulsion, as he aged Sir Theodore Horsley was unlikely to improve in any respect.

“Stainford won’t get away with this. I tell you Judith, I will see to that.”

She was supposed to make sympathetic noises, sooth the hero’s wounded feelings, but she’d heard most of it already from John and frankly was bored by it.

“How can you stop him?”

She should have been more careful. made the words sound as though her greatest wish was to help Theodore, dearest Theodore, find some means to stop the usurper, but she hadn’t.

“Do you think it beyond me, Madam?”

That was incredibly rude of him and Judith felt herself flush. He had no right to call her by that title until they were married and even then with less disdain.

“I understand why you are angry over this, Theodore. But if there is nothing more to be done?” Judith hated herself for the cautious, compliant response when what she wanted to do was damn his eyes and throw him out of Oakenhill.

“I will stop him. I promise you. The ruddy man was shot by his own brother for defiling his wife. So much for the landed aristocracy. Poor as paupers, half of them, and no morals to speak of.”

Judith could feel the heat suffuse her face. To argue with him now was to invite retribution, but she boiled to hear him raving.

“Or do you take his part, madam?” There was a calculating edge to his question that left Judith feeling cold all of a sudden. “Has Stainford been filling your head with his scheming?”

Her first reaction was to deny it, after all the last thing Thomas Stainford had done recently was to come near her, but the resentment of being forced to refute the absurd accusation stuck in her throat. “You do not decide whom I receive at Oakenhill, Sir Theodore.”

Leastwise not yet. Though the new steward, Tomkin, showed far too much interest in what went on at the house, and not nearly enough diligence in how she wanted the estate run. He was also far too prone to demur when she gave him instructions, even after father had made no bones about directing him to obey her. Judith was quite convinced he saw himself as Sir Theodore’s man first and a Hampton employee second.

Still if Tomkin were a Horsley spy then Theodore knew that Thomas had not been to see her, and yet he was sitting open mouthed staring at her in astonishment, the half masticated scone he’d been enjoying clearly visible. Though his surprise was most likely at her defiance. He hadn’t been handed such a salutary put down since he’d dared to suggest they dispense with Mrs Rogers as a chaperone. She’d been cold as ice and self righteous as hell as she told him how improper that would be. Which made her a hypocrite, who would doubtless face his fully justified wrath on her wedding night. A reckless hypocrite then.

“I wonder that you care to continue with this betrothal, Judith. You evidence no desire to visit with me, and can barely be civil when I come to you.”

Poor Sir Theodore, how unlucky in his beloved. Still that’s what came of buying your bride from the ranks of the landed aristocracy. Poor as paupers, half of them, and no morals to speak of. She was tempted to tell him she did not care to continue with the betrothal. Mrs Rogers was no help either, Judith caught the housekeeper’s eye and could almost feel the older woman willing her to tell Sir Theodore what to do with himself.

“I must ask your forgiveness, Theodore. Our betrothal is dear to me.” The words were torture, pure and agonising, and Judith hated herself for uttering them. Emily Rogers’ evident disappointment cut to the quick as well, it was awful to see someone who’d helped raise you let down by what you had to do. For a minute she felt she was going to dissolve in tears, but there was more she had to say.

“I just need a little more time. To adjust to such momentous changes. Oakenhill takes much of my time with John so busy at the barracks and my father unwell.” There, she’d beggared herself to this moneyed lout. Please let him make no more difficulty.

“Tomkin should be taking care of Oakenhill, Judith. If he is unsatisfactory I will have him replaced. There is no sense in letting a valuable estate go to wreck.”

Biting back the retort that it was not his place to replace the steward of her father’s estate took most of her remaining restraint but Judith could see the impatience seething in Theodore Horsley and knew she had no latitude left. “Thank you Theodore, but it is not necessary. I will make sure Oakenhill does not take too much of my time.”

“Good, because I have a little surprise I need your help with.”

The mock conspiratorial tone was enough to curdle milk, but Judith knew she had no option but to listen. This was a very hard path indeed. “Of course, Theodore.”

“Stainford has forbidden me, forbidden mind you, to attend drill or practice of the regiment.” Judith thought for a second he was going to lose control of his temper but Theodore Horsley made an effort to focus on what he had to say. “So I shall arrange an afternoon party at the officers’ mess for the ladies of the regiment. Nothing he can do to stop that. You, my dear, will preside as behoves your position as my betrothed. That will show him who is colonel of this regiment.”

Theodore Horsley knew when he had devised a winning plan to judge by the delight his rather feeble scheme was giving him. Yet there was so much that didn’t make sense in what he proposed. Why would a tea party for the ladies of the regiment show Thomas who was really in charge? How was this any type of surprise? Was Theodore simply trying to show her off to antagonise Thomas?

The trouble was that Judith couldn’t ask the questions that sprang to mind without triggering an argument with Theodore. One conclusion was inescapable: any attempt to warn Thomas would be causus belli to Theodore and probably enough to terminate their betrothal. Maybe that was the trap he was setting for her, born out of his suspicions over Thomas. That Thomas didn’t deserve her loyalty couldn’t stop her hating herself for a spineless weakling, but Judith knew what she had to do. “Of course, Theodore. I should be pleased to host your party for the ladies of the regiment.”

His smile confirmed the image of a man pleased to be in control of his surroundings. “Your father improves I trust, Judith.”

The enquiry was so perfunctory as to be insulting. Jonathon Hampton showed no sign of improving. The inflammation of his lungs that Doctor Bradley had diagnosed resulted in a wracking cough that terrified Judith each time she ventured into his sick room. If she were to lose father now there would be no one left for her.

The warming pan had gone cold soon after they left Horsley Hall after an excruciating duty visit, the rugs she had heaped over her legs seemed as vapid as Theodore, and her temper was disintegrating by the minute. For a coach to break a wheel was not unknown, but for it to happen now when no one else seemed to be travelling was the height of ill luck. Judith resigned herself to a long cold wait, listening to her maid sniffing, until Perkinson brought back assistance. If he could manage it, having a footman double as a postillion was all very well until you needed someone experienced.

When she heard the sound of another coach on the road a wave of thankfulness swept over Judith. It seemed an eternity until Watson the driver opened the coach door, but she sat quietly. It would be too unseemly to get out and investigate for herself, much as she longed to. Lucy had stopped sniffing and was agog to see who had arrived so Judith made sure she showed no sign of impatience herself.

“The gentleman’s offered to take you on to Oakenhill, Miss.” Watson managed to sound distinctly reserved about his news. “But it’s Major Stainford.” Judith never ceased to be amazed at how servants grasped the affairs of their employers so thoroughly. How could her distaste for Thomas be below stairs gossip when she’d never discussed him with anyone or showed any antagonism to him?

She stepped out of the coach to find the real reason for her coachman’s hesitancy. Thomas Stainford was grinning down at her from the driving bench of a high sprung little curricle. “I’m sorry, Judith, not to offer you more comfortable transportation, but I did not expect to be of service to a stranded lady today. Still this little chariot will get you to Oakenhill if you don’t mind a buffeting.”

“You are most kind, Major. I am sure I will survive the journey.” Judith wasn’t so sure about Lucy who was almost hopping with anxiety. She wasn’t quite pulling at Judith’s sleeve but she was coming close. How ridiculous when Judith could see plainly for herself that it was a two person chariot without room for a chaperone. Still, accepting Thomas’ offer would allow her to make sure help was sent back for the coach. It would serve Lucy right to freeze till then.

“Watson, if you would please help me climb into the Major’s chariot.” Thomas landed beside her before she’d finished speaking, offering his arm. If she hadn’t seen the wince that accompanied his landing, Judith would have been unimpressed. But the realisation that his wounds still pained him made her accept his arm without any fuss.

Conversation was difficult as the gig whisked on at an alarming pace, and Judith found Thomas’ driving style a little abrupt, though she had to admit he was pushing the horses on quite competently and they were making good time. It was easier not to talk too since that allowed her to sideline the question of whether she ought to warn him about Theodore’s intended surprise. Not that you could really warn somebody about a surprise when you had no idea what was planned yourself. Still it felt somehow disloyal not to say anything. Quite, quite ridiculous to feel that she owed Thomas any loyalty.

So easier to stay silent and concentrate on keeping her precarious perch on the bench. There was barely enough room to sit beside Thomas without touching his thigh, particularly when they swept through the corners and the little vehicle rolled them together. Or rather rolled her into him, since Thomas Stainford had his Hessians planted firm on the buckboard and appeared impervious to the motions of the carriage.

And contact with him was best avoided in case it brought back old memories. Moon struck dreams of a young girl rather, that was all they had been. Though no doubt she had provided Thomas with a pleasant diversion. The gates of Oakenhill broke Judith out of her reverie, leaving her discomfited that the journey had passed without any effort at civility on her part.

“My godmother thinks your father unwell, Judith?” It was a neighbourly question, the very core of social exchange between friends, and her hackles rose like a wolf at his presumption.

“He does well enough, Major.” There was no doubt for either of them that the words were to close down his inquiry, but the maddening man smiled instead of accepting his rebuke.

“Please pass my regards to him.”

Of course she had to invite him for refreshments, it would have been unthinkable to behave otherwise. And when she noticed Tomkin watching their little vignette with interest Judith was tempted to press Thomas to accept beyond the dictates of civility. Instead she turned on Tomkin to organise the rescue of the coach. Their steward could earn his money honestly for once instead of acting as Theodore’s spy.

By the time she’d turned back Thomas had mounted his curricle, reinforcing his refusal and leaving it too awkward for her to press him on the invitation. Judith watched the little cart rattle down the drive with the image of its driver fixed in her mind. Ashen grey under his tan, he was clearly working too hard for his state of health. Judith felt a groundswell of sympathy for someone who could look so vulnerable and so determined at the same time.

Then instead of dwelling on something that wasn’t her concern, she turned to bully Tomkin who seemed to be finding his assigned task less interesting that gawping at his betters. His obvious resentment at being chivvied only whetted her anger. The wretched man would report everything to Sir Theodore anyway so she might as well enjoy power over him whilst she could.

~

Her father’s sick room was another place where Judith knew her powers to be limited. Mrs Rogers had barely left the bedside since her father had conceded four days ago that he might feel the benefit of rest and that Doctor Bradley could be sent for.
‘Though lord knows what use the man will be. Can’t recognise a lead if it’s explained to him, how can you trust his diagnosis?’
Father’s card playing crony had taken one look at the wheezing, spluttering master of Oakenhill and insisted on complete bed rest.

Nor was he particularly encouraging over father’s chances of recovery.
‘Too much moping, Judith. He’s taken a scunner at life it seems to me. Though why he should feel so discontented I don’t know. Perhaps losing you to young Horsley? Anyway no disturbances and no activity and I’ll come back in a few days.’
Not that father was grateful for his physician’s care. In fact he was distinctly unappreciative of anything that anyone did for him with the single exception of Mrs Rogers.

The next morning looking at their housekeeper sitting in the chair by the bed Judith was touched by her devotion. Touched, and a little depressed by the fatalism she could see in the older woman’s eyes. Not for the first time she wondered at the depth of Emily Rogers’ attachment to father. Soft, dewy eyes suggested a greater depth of concern than most housekeepers felt for their employer.

“How is he, Mrs Rogers?”

“Not so feeble that I can’t answer for myself, Judith.” The burst of coughing this sally provoked gave the lie to her father’s claim and Judith exchanged worried glances with Emily Rogers.

“Maybe we should call Doctor Bradley back, father?”

“Why? Do you mean to be rid of me Judith?” Father nearly choked himself on the wheezy burst of laughter he thought his wit merited and Judith could feel the exasperation surge in her. If he thought this was a time for joking...

“No, I simply want you to get better.” Mrs Rogers was being no help at all, merely taking his hand between both of hers to stop father thumping himself in the chest.

“You’re a good girl, Judith, and I’m sorry for all of this. I really am. I can’t believe you will do well with Horsley and if you had any other way I would tell you to take it.”

Judith’s first reaction was to look to see if they were embarrassing Mrs Rogers. Which was ridiculous if her suspicions of the housekeeper’s feelings for father had even a little substance to them, and even more ridiculous when you considered the woman’s years of service to the Hampton family and her sharp wits: there was little that went on at Oakenhill that passed Emily Rogers by.

She was saved from answering by a knock on the door. The maid who stepped into the room imparted news that she clearly viewed as catastrophic. Two carriages had arrived at once and Lady Horsley and Lady Guilmor would soon be sitting down together in the same room. Judith was inclined to share the sentiment, two less compatible visitors were hard to imagine. Her panic must have been a little too visible because Mrs Rogers stretched a hand out to steady her.

“You’d best go down and greet them Miss Judith. Lady Guilmor doesn’t do well with ladies who chatter.”

Chattering was totally absent when Judith reached the morning room. Greetings had been exchanged no doubt, but there was no conviviality warming the room.

“Judith!” She could have been a bone to be fought over as the two women greeted her simultaneously. Obviously both expected her to return their greeting first, leaving a knotty little question of precedence: peerage seniority, age, or forthcoming family bond all had a valid claim on guiding her decision, and Judith took the coward’s solution.

“Ladies. What a delight to receive you both.”

The silence which met her little sally probably meant she’d annoyed them both and for one awful moment Judith worried that she’d disgraced herself by failing to provide introductions when these two formidable ladies didn’t actually know who the other was. Florinda Horsley put her mind at rest.

“Judith my dear, I simply must talk to you about Theodore, but of course that can wait until Lady Guilmor concludes her visit.”

Nice touch Judith conceded, playing the forthcoming family card put Amara firmly into the category of casual visitor.

“Oh no my dear. I could not possibly take precedence when you will soon be Miss Hampton’s relation. I insist Florinda.” Amara Guilmor sat back with the air of one who has no intention of being moved, and the smugness of someone who expects to be well entertained.

For a long pause it looked as though Florinda Horsley would frustrate Amara’s design by the expedient of remaining silent and Judith was wracking her brain for something to break the ice. Then Florinda spoke.

“Judith, Theodore was disappointed that you were inconvenienced when your coach broke down. He would not have you stranded like that again.”

So Tomkin had made his report and here was Florinda Horsley just one day later to lecture her. As if she had the right. “These things happen, Florinda. Fortunately Major Stainford was able to bring me to Oakenhill.”

“My dear, Theodore would not want his betrothed to be beholden to one of his subordinates.”

“Hardly a subordinate.” Amara Guilmor sat forward and spoke very decidedly. “Thomas is the man who has trained up this regiment, stopped it being just a bunch of toy soldiers.”

Judith could see the flash of hatred in Florinda Horsley’s eyes at the interjection, and she had to admit that however accurate Amara’s opinion it was less than tactful. But Lady Horsley was made of strong enough stuff to shrug off the interruption in favour of continuing with her reasoned argument. “Judith, Theodore is a man of position, and as his betrothed your conduct will be closely scrutinised.”

“I trust my conduct and character will stand any scrutiny.” This was the last line Judith wanted to be taking, and the only possible answer she could give.

“Of course, my dear. Of course. But Major Stainford is a man whose character has been called into question. By his own brother no less.” Florinda Horsley was all sweet reason and Judith wanted to slap her for it.

“Are you suggesting, Lady Horsley, that Judith should have rebuffed my godson’s offer of help and froze to death in her broken down coach instead?” Amara was being less than helpful, and Judith could see no way to make her stop. She’d seen the light of battle in Amara Guilmor’s eyes before now for less cause than Florinda Horsley was currently providing.

“It was unwise to accept an offer from such a man when it meant poor Judith could not take her maid with her.” Battle lines were being drawn and Judith knew she was being cast in the role of spectator, or was it trophy, by both visitors.

“Judith and Thomas have known each other since they were little more than children, Lady Horsley. Your implication is unworthy. And ridiculous.” Amara at her most scathing, but Judith could see the calculating light come on for Florinda Horsley. In her righteous indignation Amara was being entirely unhelpful and only feeding the woman’s suspicions.

“I make no implication, Lady Guilmor. Merely remind Judith of her position as Theodore’s intended bride.” Florinda Horsley eyed Amara Guilmor for any further objections but decided that the stage was safe for her finale. “Theodore has suggested that you might like to borrow one of his coaches, Judith. For ease and safety.”

Both her listeners reacted in the same way. Stunned silence. Judith knew her anger had to be restrained. She felt like screaming at the woman that she would not allow her father to be insulted like this, but that could only wreck her betrothal and ruin them all. Funny how often ruination was the motivation for what had to be done. But she couldn’t let this pass unchecked.

“My father is perfectly capable of providing his daughter with transportation, Lady Horsley. Your kind offer is unnecessary. But I thank you for it.” Judith could see Amara subside slowly at the firmness of her answer. At least her friend wasn’t going to weigh in and inflame the situation further.

Florinda Horsley knew she’d committed a horrendous faux pas, you could see that in her puzzlement, it was just that she had no idea how to recover from it. You could see it in the way her mouth opened and closed till eventually Amara grew bored.