The Rake's Redemption (21 page)

“Do you know what that leech wants?” She couldn’t believe that her brother could realise what Theodore Horsley had demanded and not share her indignation. “He offered me carte-blanche, John. Carte-blanche. If father knew he would call him out.”

“Then he’d better not find out, or it will be the death of him. Would you be responsible for that Judith?” She could only stare at John, the full depth of his pathetic weakness still able to surprise her. Not content with his own miserable decline he was content to drag her down with him.

“Is it so very bad Judes? What Theo wants? ” He showed no shame, standing there willing her to acquiesce in his sordid evasion.

“Yes. He is a repulsive, gross lecher who would turn me into his convenient. Is that what you want for your sister? Where is your loyalty to our family, our name?” Judith couldn’t believe that her brother would stoop so low.

“You were willing to marry him, Judith. What is so very different now? I’m sure Theo will still be generous.”

“I won’t do it John. That you should ask me beggars belief.” Judith couldn’t find the words to explain to her brother how disgusting it was that he should ask her to degrade herself.

“I repeat, what is so different now? You can’t expect Theo to marry you after you’ve betrayed him with Stainford.”

For once she’d lost the high ground in dealing with John. “It wasn’t like that. I only met Thomas to..” The impossibility of explaining to John why she had schemed and met with Thomas left her with nothing to say and no defence for her actions.

“Do you know what you’ve done and what the consequences could have been, Judith? For all of us. Do you understand how angry Theo is with you? How hurt he feels. He would be perfectly entitled to throw you off without a second thought.” John was raging at her now without restraint and Judith couldn’t help her hope that none of the servants might hear him. “He holds us, this family in the palm of his hand. He’s bought up all my gambling notes to stop my creditors. If you ask me he’s been remarkably magnanimous. Out of his affection for you, sister. But he cannot marry you now.”

There it was, her own brother’s condemnation of her as damaged goods, fit only to be a plaything for a rich man. No matter the shame it brought to the Hamptons. “Father, John, what about father? The shame of this will destroy him.”

“You should have thought of that before you ran after Stainford with your wares. Lucky for you Theo still wants you at all.”

“Lucky for you you mean John. It’s your debts that have brought us to this pass.” However useless her anger was Judith couldn’t help herself in the face of her brother’s complacency at her ruin.

“Gentlemen incur debts, sis. ‘tis a fact. Pity the estate’s not big enough to pay them. For all your meddling with it.”

She could have hit him. He fully deserved it, but for all her defiance and fury over his debts there was nothing to be gained. John knew she would succumb because she had no other choice. He didn’t know she couldn’t do as Theodore Horsley had ordered and find out Thomas’ plans for the militia. For all their casual assumption of her as a tool to be plied as they wished she could baulk them in that. Whatever the cost.

She couldn’t face Thomas Stainford as Theodore Horsley’s spy. However much she hated him for his betrayal four years ago, she couldn’t be so treacherous. And she couldn’t give herself to Horsley. Better to do away with herself if there was nothing else left for her. But that wouldn’t help father. “Gentlemen face up to their responsibilities, John. Not expect their womenfolk to do it for them.”

For a second she thought John would hit her, his face darkened to the hue of night. Then he turned and stalked away. Father was much harder to deal with. If she had to hear one more time how pleased he was that John seemed more settled and that she would make a good match Judith would scream. His innocence of all that lay behind the apparent calm was heartrending. She longed to pour her heart out to her parent and ask him to save her from the bleakness that beckoned.

She didn’t of course. She couldn’t see his frailty and disturb the ease of mind that seemed to give him comfort. If the price of that was to bear her burden alone then so it had to be. Only once, when father began to talk about that trip to stay with Aunt Chloe did she lose her patience with him. The last thing she wanted to hear about was any regrets he might have now for deciding to take her away from Oakenhill and Thomas Stainford back then.

The worst thing about having a plan that amounted to having no plan was waiting, unsure when something would transpire to force the crisis. She didn’t sleep well of course, after she’d finally found sleep she woken in a sweat with the image of Tomkins’s baleful face leering at her. It seemed that only minutes had gone by between her slipping off and his sneering cry of
‘Haymarket ware’
waking her up. This morning she was more tired than normal as she went about the business of breakfast, forcing herself to eat when it was the last thing she wanted to do.

The sound of hooves tipped her out of her stupor. Oakenhill wasn’t subject to sudden alarms, but there was no doubting the urgency of this visitor. If his sweating horse wasn’t sign enough his dismount showed he would brook no delay, the man virtually threw himself off his horse. With his back to her Judith couldn’t tell who it was but there was a familiarity to the broad set shoulders that had her thinking excitedly of Thomas. The blue superfine broadcloth of his coat and lustrous beaver of his topper indicated the caller wasn’t an officer but Judith’s heart still leapt.

Long strides took him across the drive almost beating their footman to the door and Judith’s spirits slumped as she recognised not Thomas Stainford but his brother. Squaring her shoulders for whatever this portended she decided to forsake form and meet her visitor in the hall.

“Judith, you have to help me.” Charles hadn’t even paused to take his hat off and she could see scandal dawning in the footman’s eyes. Even Mrs Rogers, responding with her usual calm alacrity, was looking distinctly curious.

“Of course, Charles. I was having breakfast, please come through.” If you were throwing convention to the winds it was as well to toss it high. “My father and brother are not down yet.” Nor likely to be this side of noon.

Charles composed himself enough to hand his hat to the footman and Judith had time enough to check through the window that a groom had taken charge of his poor horse. Then she turned and led the way into the dining room. Charles didn’t even wait till she’d closed the door behind them before he launched into his story.

“I tried to see Thomas, but he wouldn’t receive me.” The leopard wasn’t changing his spots then. “He’ll ruin me unless I do what he wants.”

That didn’t make any sense, it went against everything she knew of the brothers. “Why would Thomas want to ruin you?”

“Not Thomas. Theodore Horsley. Unless I can stop Thomas.” Judith had the sudden, ridiculous thought that she was failing in her duty as a hostess by not offering Charles food. She put it away firmly, he would probably choke if he tried to eat anything.

“Over the militia?” It had to be, Theodore was clutching at every straw he could find to protect his precious regiment. “How can he ruin you, Charles?”

She could see him swallow and wondered if he would tell her. He certainly took his time, looking round the room like a trapped beast before he spoke. “Jane took his money. Although father has made me his heir he still keeps the money tight. And no one would receive us in society, she was wretchedly unhappy. Horsley bleeds very freely with his blunt when it suits him.”

“Why would that matter, Charles? You brought him social respectability, the heir to a earl.” she could see the hesitation in his eyes and knew to press him too hard would be to lose him. Still she needed to know what threat Horsley had dangling over Charles.

“Jane told him.” He stopped again, though Judith was sure he was on the verge of telling her if she just prompted him in the right way.

“I will help you if I can, Charles, but I need to understand.” She left it there hoping he would find the courage to tell her what Jane had so little trouble revealing.

“I have never consummated my marriage. Judith, I cannot find it in me to lie with a woman.” Charles Stainford bowed his head for a moment before he looked up and spoke with a bleakness that echoed her own. “Horsley will reveal my leanings to society unless I find a way to stop my brother taking his regiment away from him. That might be for the best. I know I have the courage to pick up a pistol and end my shame. At least father would have to reinstate Thomas then.”

The soldiers stood in scarlet rows sweating in their thick serge greatcoats. They had endured the inspection by the unknown officers in feathered hats with the stoicism of those who know their travail will end. Only when the order to stand easy was given did a flicker of interest run through the ranks. Speeches were usually received at attention, if not with gratitude. This promised to be different.

Thomas watched as Sir Edmund began his oration. The message had to be kept simple if they were to succeed: the Loyal East Mercian Volunteers were going to be dissolved so the pay that accompanied attendance at the barracks would cease. Neither Thomas nor his seniors had any illusions as to the relative importance of patriotism versus regular income for these men.

Then the announcement that Lieutenant Colonel Stainford was recruiting for his battalion, with a signing on bonus paid in gold. The Provost Marshall’s men were ostentatiously guarding their coach with loaded weapons and Thomas saw enough curious glances cast in that direction to know the impact that would have. It would be his turn next, to stir the men with praise for their training and appeal to their taste for adventure and danger. No harm in rousing them with an appeal to their patriotism either.

He had sergeants primed to follow his lead when it came to starting the queues to enlist in the new regular battalion, and neither Hampton nor Lacey were in attendance so there should be no focus for opposition. Still this was the acid test of how successful his work had been in training the men and fostering the spirit of the regiment. The one man who should oppose the plan tooth and nail wouldn’t, Thomas knew that. He’d seen too many beaten men to entertain any doubts on that score. Horsley didn’t have the fortitude to face this head on.

The wretched man had alternated between defiance and abject appeasement ever since they’d arrived at the barracks this morning. His gratitude when Lord Guilmor had broached the position in St Petersburg had been truly stomach turning. His obsequious words still rang in Thomas’ mind,
‘So there is something for me.’
Pathetic was a totally inadequate term to describe such an attitude. Yet behind the apparent acceptance the man’s hubris simmered.

When Edmund Hewston made reference to Sir Theodore’s new role in his speech he managed to make it sound like a desertion of the Loyal Volunteers. Much as Thomas approved anything that increased the chances of success he couldn’t help but notice how the vainglorious baronet reacted with barely suppressed fury. This day’s work might well win them the reinforcements the Army in Spain needed but Theodore Horsley would exact vicious vengeance for this slighting. Some unlucky soul within his power would pay the cost.

The thought was pushed back by the gratifying success when it came to enrolling volunteers for the regulars. Whether the men were responding to the lure of gold, the promise of patriotic adventure or unit loyalty built by the hard training they’d undergone the vast majority rushed to make their mark. With the draft waiting for him at Portsmouth Thomas would embark a very respectably sized battalion.

So it was with a comfortable feeling of victory that he watched Theodore Horsley making his way to his coach. Quite alone, for none of the officers found it necessary to seek his company. Little wonder when this would be the last time that the man would have any business here. Thomas wasn’t too surprised when Horsley altered his course to approach him. Whatever the fellow wanted he’d oblige him, the time for discretion was past and any challenge from Horsley now would be clearly seen as spite.

“Horsley.” Thomas pitched his greeting at a low growl as a warning that he would stand no nonsense this morning.

“You think you’ve won Stainford?” The self pity oozing out of the words would have been enough in itself to earn Thomas’ contempt.

“The country will have another battalion to fight its war instead of these men playing at toy soldiers. And badly at that. So yes, I’ve won.” Let Horsley make of that what he might.

“You think you’re untouchable don’t you? The great soldier hero.”

All around them men were watching for what would transpire and Thomas grew suddenly impatient. This day wasn’t even half finished and he had no desire to spend his time providing a side show for anyone, let alone the men he commanded. “Your time here is ended Horsley. Go to St Petersburg and indulge your taste for society there. It should suit you, the Russians can be very grand.”

“Your brother won’t be welcome in society once the truth about him is out.” Thomas felt the cold chill in his stomach take away his equanimity. If Horsley truly knew Charles’ secret he had the means to destroy him.

“And your whore won’t be so perky riding round the countryside once I’ve tamed her.” The man must be unbalanced to speak so.

“I keep no whore, Horsley. If you are tempted to name a lady I will punish you. As surely as hellfire. Do you hear me?”

It wasn’t really a question that needed an answer, so Sir Theodore’s bowed head was a perfectly adequate response. Just in case the point wasn’t made Thomas clarified it, “I stand ready to give you satisfaction Horsley. Just say the word.”

He didn’t of course, just sidled away and Lord Guilmor was a far more welcome companion. “Trouble Thomas?”

“Of course. I do believe the man is deranged.”

“Or just very, very angry. He has lost his prize toy and must have someone to blame. You are well qualified for the role.” Guilmor shook his head in rueful bafflement. “The Hampton girl has made herself a sorry choice.”

“Is that my godmother speaking, sir?” Thomas had agreed to visit Oakenhill with Amara Guilmor. The best he had managed was to persuade her to wait until after the reorganisation of the militia was completed. So they were going this afternoon. Instead of attending to the myriad of details he needed to resolve before the march to Portsmouth could begin.

Amara was certain to create awkwardness in her quest to throw them at each others’ heads in addition to the difficulty he faced over broaching his concerns about Horsley to Judith. It defied belief that any man could speak in such terms about his betrothed. It promised to be an interesting challenge making Judith see the size of her mistake. Interesting and critical.

“Guilmor tells me you had words with Horsley?” It would have been pleasant to settle back into the Guilmor town coach and doze quietly for the run over to Oakenhill but nobody ignored Amara Guilmor.

“Hardly unexpected, godmother. The man was not pleased to have his battalion lifted out from under him, no matter how he deserved it.”

“Upset about his battalion was he? Odd choice of words he used then.
‘Whore’
is hardly a description I would expect anyone to apply to soldiers Thomas.” Behind her mock joviality Thomas could see intense anxiety in Amara’s face.

“It’s hardly a word I’d expect to hear you use, Lady Guilmor.”

Thomas didn’t expect his feint to divert her and it didn’t even rate an acknowledgement. “If that man is to be Judith’s husband she’ll be off to Russia with him. Not just a foreign country, Thomas but a very backward one.”

Thomas knew he was meant to repent his inexplicable failure to wed Judith and live happily in marital bliss. He knew too that there was no point in explaining to his godmother how the present lamentable state of affairs wasn’t his choice at all. He’d receive short shift if he tried that.

“She’d be very much at the mercy of her husband.” Amara wouldn’t scruple to pile on the pressure if she thought it would achieve her aim. The trouble was her words were ringing too true for comfort. Horsley had been wild beyond what might be expected of a man deprived of his regiment. And to invoke Judith in such terms, for Thomas had no doubt it was Judith that the cur had meant. Had he somehow found out about their times together? Had Judith told him?

Whatever the reason for it Thomas couldn’t thole the association of the filthy word Horsley had used with the sweet kind girl he’d known. Was she to blame because Thomas had seduced her? Their lovemaking had been sweetly innocent never carnal. And the depth of Judith’s hurt came through in the bitterness of that letter she’d sent him. The depth of her love, though he’d never seen it that way before now. So if Judith needed to be rescued, and she did, he owed it to her to be the one making that rescue.

“Godmother, can I ask you not to make too much of your opinion that Judith should marry me and not Horsley?” There was no earthly reason not to be straightforward with Amara Guilmor. Any attempt at fudge simply invited a crushing retort.

“To what end?” Trust Amara to be equally direct. “Not merely to spare you embarrassment I hope?”

“No, though there is no harm in that. I should also like to speak to Judith alone, so if you can find a way to arrange that please do.”

He could tell how pleased she was by the width of her grin. “I’m perfectly sure that can be arranged, Thomas. At last you see sense my boy, and not before time. Now I’m really looking forward to my visit.”

Judith recognised the coach the moment it came through the paddock gates. Normally a visit from Amara would have her smiling with delight, anticipating equal measures of indiscreet gossip and cheering flattery. Nothing though could lift her present mood, which was why she was spending so much time staring out through the window. She was becoming depressingly familiar with the shrubs and trees that marked what father was pleased to call the courtyard and in reality was simply the stretch of gravel that provided space for visiting coaches in front of the house.

The parlour at the front of the house had one overwhelming advantage though. It made it easy to avoid John and that had become more important than ever after their last row. John had been furious and unforgiving, cursing her for procrastinating about meeting Theodore’s Horsley’s conditions. Judith had retaliated in kind, telling him what an apology for a man he was. Their screaming had brought the housekeeper to order them to stop. Emily Rogers had forgotten herself far enough to tell them they were driving their father to his grave with their quarrelling. It had been that bad. Not that John cared.

Now it wasn’t just Amara alighting from her coach but Thomas Stainford too. Where that should mean nothing, where it did mean nothing, she was still weak enough to spark a hope at the sight of him. Foolish and weak when there was nothing to be hoped for from Thomas Stainford. Like enough Amara had dragged him here playing on the gratitude he owed her for past kindness. Amara who had never lost her fond hope that Thomas and Judith would wed when anyone else would have given up, anyone with any sense that is.

So she would have to listen to him crowing about the troops he would take to Spain, his second departure to the wars and one that just like the first would cost her high. Not just her but Charles too. A tormented soul who had wanted to put more trust in her than she could bear. At least he had gone now, going to Penwick on her advice to see his father. She could not promise him that she would prevent Horsley revealing his secret, but she had conceded that she would try. A promise his misery had extracted from her and she had as yet done nothing to fulfil.

Where Charles would find the strength to face his father she couldn’t imagine. Despite Judith’s opinion that he cut the wretched girl loose to fend for herself, Charles had insisted on taking Jane with him, hoping no doubt to control what his wife would say against him. Judith couldn’t quite rid herself of the niggling fear that Charles would still allow himself to be manipulated by the scheming little trollop. The only way to deal with lingering attachments that had passed their usefulness was to sever them completely. A lesson she herself badly needed to apply.

Determinedly putting all such haverings aside Judith roused herself to have Mrs Rogers fetch father to the drawing room. When their visitors were shown in they would be properly greeted in the formal style to which father attached so much importance. Fortunately John had taken himself off somewhere today so he wasn’t going to spoil things. Amara was quite capable of telling him off herself for any rudeness and that could only lead to another row.

Jonathon Hampton’s reaction to his visitors would have gladdened any heart let alone his daughter’s. For a little while the feeble, silent master of Oakenhill brightened and flourished. Amara sparkled of course in that fulsome way she had of making her listeners believe they were the centre of her world. But it was Thomas Stainford who startled Judith. Courteous of course, Thomas always had impeccable manners, but he seemed able to tap into father’s line of thought. It helped that Jonathon Hampton was pathetically grateful that John was not going to Spain. He kept repeating that his last son would be spared, leaving Judith feeling an ungracious wretch for having the wicked thought that a French musket ball might spare them all a great deal of trouble in the future.

She was an unnatural and sinful creature though, her reaction to Thomas Stainford confirmed that. She should have been disdainful and haughty, dismissing a man who was irrelevant to her life and had caused her nothing but trouble in every particular each time they’d met. Yet she couldn’t help her gushing, soft response to his polite smile. The man knew his power too, standing there tall and strong in his regimentals, virtually gloating in his ability to dominate the room.

Judith knew Amara could see through her desperate facade of indifference, she could tell from the quiet little smile her friend was allowing to play around the corners of her mouth. If she were so transparent she was a lost cause and might as well submit herself to the lust that Theodore Horsley had made clear was to be her fate. After all she deserved no better.