The Uncatchable Miss Faversham (26 page)

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Authors: Elizabeth Moss

Tags: #Romance, #Historical, #Regency, #Historical Romance

BOOK: The Uncatchable Miss Faversham
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    ‘But I don’t understand. Why did you dismount?’

    He grimaced, hearing the surprise in her voice, reasonable though it was. ‘There was a Spanish girl lying wounded in the street. I had seen her shoot at the enemy as we retreated, tucked behind one of the ruined walls of Corunna. She could not have been more than eighteen. Brave as she was, the girl took a bullet to the chest, covering our retreat. I stopped to help her, hoping something could be done to staunch the bleeding, but it was too late.’ His heart clenched hard on the memory, seeing again the girl’s beautiful dark-skinned face, the courageousness of her faltering last words, reciting the Lord’s Prayer in Spanish. ‘She died in my arms.’

    ‘And that was when the cavalryman attacked?’

    He nodded, searching for the right words. ‘Afterwards, Jack came back with me from the Peninsular, and I promised to find him work. But unsighted, there is little useful work he can do to support his wife and children. He is a proud young man, and he will not accept charity. His wife Rose, the woman you saw in the street today, has been working as a seamstress to support the family. But Jack is understandably unhappy with that arrangement, feeling himself to be less than a man if his wife has to work.’

    Eleanor blenched. ‘So you took her as your mistress?’

    He stared, not quite understanding her meaning at first. Then fury burnt through him like a fuse to an explosive.

    Miss Eleanor Faversham had the temerity to believe, that he, Lord Sallinger, a man of honour and integrity, would consider bedding the wife of a comrade-in-arms. Not merely that, but bed her as part of some sordid financial arrangement. He wrestled with the desire to quit this termagant’s company instantly, and never return. That he should be countenancing marriage to a woman who could think so little of him was beyond all bounds.

    Yet the deed was done. He had accepted Eleanor’s offer – so dangerously made – to warm her bed after the theatre, and their enforced marriage was the consequence. Not that he regretted either the bedding or the proposal. He felt sure that Miss Faversham regretted the latter, though. Was that the true cause of his temper now?

    ‘Let me make myself painfully clear, Miss Faversham. I am not, nor have I ever been, in a relationship of that kind with Mrs Underwood.’ He glared at her fiercely. ‘She is the wife of a man I deeply admire, and to whom I owe my life. But pray enlighten me. Is my friendship with the Underwoods the subject of common gossip in Warwickshire? Or have you come up with this distasteful and quite erroneous theory on your own?’

    She took a moment to answer, and Nathaniel had the satisfaction of seeing her colour ebb and flow, her hands clasped tightly together as though praying for divine intervention. ‘I am truly sorry, my lord.’ Her eyes downcast, fixed with deep embarrassment on the rug at her feet, his bride-to-be hesitated, clearly in the midst of some internal struggle. ‘I’m afraid there have been some rumours about you. Nothing but whispers in the dark. Stupid, malicious whispers. I was a fool to listen to them, and you are right to chastise me for it.’

    ‘So you accept that I am innocent of this crime?’

    ‘Yes,’ she stammered.

    Nathaniel’s anger abruptly left him, hearing the tremor in her voice. He limped forward and took her hands, finding them ridiculously cold for a bright spring day.

    Chafing her hands back to warmth between his own, he smiled into her eyes. ‘Come, there is no harm done. It was a foolish misunderstanding, that’s all. Though now I see why you have been stand-offish at times, believing what you did.’

    ‘I’m sorry,’ Eleanor repeated, looking dazed.

    He kissed her, and was surprised to find her still unresponsive. Drawing back a little, he frowned. ‘Are you unwell?’

    ‘No, indeed.’

    ‘Then perhaps you are nervous? It is not uncommon, I believe, for a woman to feel nervous at her approaching nuptials.’ Nathaniel looked for some answering smile in her eyes and found none. ‘Come, what is it? Something still disturbs you and I would hear what it is.’

    ‘I saw you with her. Not just today, but on another occasion, back in Warwickshire. And without her husband present. I accept what you say but cannot understand …’

    ‘It is a private matter, and not mine to divulge.’ But the hurt look in her eyes gave him pause; Nathaniel thought for a moment, torn between protecting a sworn confidence and possibly destroying any hopes he might have of future happiness with this woman. ‘Though since we are to be married, and you are clearly distressed, I cannot see what harm it would do. So long as you promise not to reveal what I will tell you to any other person.’

    ‘Of course,’ she agreed quickly, ‘I would never do so.’

    ‘It is a simple enough matter, but Jack is a proud man and his marriage might suffer if his wife’s actions were revealed.’

    ‘I swear not to reveal them.’

    Nathaniel nodded, satisfied. ‘Jack has an uncle in trade, here in London. His whereabouts were unknown to the family, since there had been a falling-out when Jack married Rose. She was considered beneath him. However, Rose hoped for a reconciliation between the two which might enable Jack to find paid work with his uncle, something easily done by an unsighted man.’ He saw the dawn of understanding in her eyes, and nodded. ‘I have been helping Rose to find this uncle, firstly by writing letters of enquiry on her behalf, as she herself is unlettered, and then by visiting various places in town during this visit. It was not easy, as the man had moved premises several times in the past few years, but I finally ran him to ground. Once he learnt of his nephew’s plight, it was not long before Mr Underwood senior agreed to allow the family to remove to London and live with him, as he is unmarried and has no heir.’

    ‘But that is marvellous,’ she whispered, and he saw that her blue eyes were damp with unshed tears.

    He smiled wryly. ‘Jack would not accept my help, but his wife believes that he will accept help from his own blood – so long as he is not aware that this reconciliation was brought about by his wife. She came to town on the stage yesterday, and today I took her to visit this uncle to finalise the arrangements. The Underwoods will quit their place in the village next week and move in with Jack’s uncle here in London. I have put several of my carts and men at their disposal, so their possessions may safely follow them to London.’ Nathaniel sighed, thinking how empty the village would seem to him once the family were gone. ‘I shall miss my talks with Jack, but it will be worth it to see him happy again, and his young family thriving. His misfortune at Corunna has been the source of much distress for the Underwoods.’

    ‘And what of your own misfortune at Corunna?’ she asked, and raised a hand to touch his ruined cheek.

    Nathaniel found himself quite unable to answer, swamped by unexpected emotion. He wanted to speak of that terrible day at Corunna, open his heart to this woman who would soon be his wife, but something stopped him.

    They were not yet close enough for him to broach such a disturbing history, and perhaps they never would be. Not every marriage could be that intimate, after all, and there was still a coolness and distance in Miss Faversham’s face. Even if she no longer suspected him of infidelity, she was not the passionate girl he remembered from their first night together, lying so warm and honest in his arms.

    He took a careful step backwards, out of her reach, and saw Eleanor’s hand drop away.

    ‘Forgive me.’ He made a show of glancing at the gilt carriage clock on her mantel, though the position of its slim gold hands meant little to him, his mind was in such disarray. ‘I should have been elsewhere long since. I have much to do today. The wedding …’

    ‘Of course.’

    Nathaniel bowed, and took his leave of her.

    Outside in the streets the sun had vanished behind a cloud, a grey tinge of impending rain overhanging the elegant London houses as he traversed square after square, wandering he knew not where. He had broken faith with Rose Underwood by revealing her actions on behalf of her husband, believing it could somehow heal the breach between himself and Eleanor.

    But Nathaniel sensed that all was not well, despite his honesty. What was this distance between them, and how could he possibly hope to cross it when he did not even know why there was still such hesitation in Eleanor’s face, still that old fear in her eyes that he had seen the first time he had proposed marriage to her?

 

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

 

Robert ran in and out for the fifth time, violently banging a toy drum, and Eleanor had to restrain herself from raising her voice at the boy. Instead, she rolled a cautious eye towards his mother, who was lying in state on the bed, raised up on pillows like some dying queen, a bottle of muddy-coloured health tonic clutched in her hand.

    ‘Charlotte, dearest,’ she ventured softly, ‘would it be possible for Robert’s Nurse to confine him to the nursery until I am dressed? The bridal carriage may arrive at any moment, and my toilette is not done.’

    ‘I’m so sorry,’ Charlotte moaned, and gestured to the maid, who had been delivering a gift from one of Eleanor’s aggrieved former suitors, to escort her son back to the nursery. ‘Dear little Robert is excited, that is all.’

    Suzanne threaded another yellow silk flower into her hair and stood back to admire the effect. Her fierce nod seemed to indicate that she was pleased, though she did not stop fiddling, adjusting the ribbon with a little jerk.

    ‘Your hair is ready, Miss Nell,’ Suzanne murmured, and turned to the gown, draped over the bed as it had been for the past hour, with Charlotte trying not to crush it whenever she shifted on her pillows. She gathered the pale silk folds in her arms, opening the gown so that Eleanor could step into it. ‘Careful, now.’

    Eleanor steadied herself on her maid’s shoulder. ‘I’m sorry I shall miss your wedding,’ she said, her eyes filling with tears against her will. Sternly, she told herself not to be silly. But it would not do. ‘I had meant to be there, as you know.’

    ‘It’s not important.’ Her maid drew the gown up over her hips and past her chest, then moved to fasten the back, her hands deft as ever. ‘You can’t miss your honeymoon for me, Miss Nell. Hold still, and don’t fret now. I won’t be missing you, that’s for sure. Not with a fine husband of my own to worry about.’

    ‘You love him that much?’

    ‘He’s mine,’ the maid said simply, then tugged at the skirts of her gown. ‘I never had anything of my own before. Except you, Miss Nell.’

    Eleanor could not speak for the emotion welling up inside, so she leant forward and embraced her maid tightly, holding her close until the tears had subsided. Over the woman’s shoulder, she saw Charlotte’s eyes stretch wide, shocked to see Eleanor behaving so very intimately with a servant. But Suzanne was not a servant to Eleanor. She was more like a caring older sister, who had always been there in the background since Eleanor had been a small child, to kiss grazed knees and fix torn stockings. Later, once her impetuous charge was old enough to graze her heart rather than her knee, she had handed out wise and often fierce advice that Eleanor usually ignored, too headstrong to listen to anyone but herself.

    ‘Oh Suzanne, what shall I do without you?’

    ‘You’ll be a good wife,’ her maid said, but Eleanor saw that her dark eyes too were liquid. The quick hands busied themselves with her silk gown, teasing out the lavish fall of lace at her shoulders and chest. ‘Just as I’ll be. And you will send me a message if that man … If you’re ever unhappy, just come see old Suzanne.’

    ‘I will,’ Eleanor promised.

    Charlotte bestirred herself at last, sliding carefully from the bed and searching for her pumps under the crumpled yards of tissue wrap in which Eleanor’s gown had arrived from the dressmaker’s. She sent the maid to make sure Robert was ready to leave, then checked her pale cheeks in the mirror.

    ‘We had better go downstairs, my dear. The carriage must be here soon, I am convinced of it.’ She dusted a little loose powder over her face, shaking her head mournfully. ‘Only look at me, I’m such a sight! I tried that French cold cream your friend recommended, but it has done nothing to enliven my complexion.’

    ‘You look lovely, as well you know. Pregnancy suits you. Don’t be such a goose. I’m sure that when your husband returns – ’

    ‘Oh, did you hear the news?’

    Eleanor shook her head, bemused by Charlotte’s sudden radiance. ‘What news?’

    ‘Nathaniel received a letter for me yesterday from my darling Henry, sent on from Warwickshire. Henry got my letter, and has asked for early leave, and been granted it! Of course, he cannot return for at least another eight weeks, but he should be home in good time for the baby’s arrival.’ Charlotte positively glowed with pleasure at the thought. ‘I can barely wait to see Henry again. You do not know how lucky you are, to be marrying a man who will stay at home with you, not go junketing about the world just when he is most needed.’

    ‘Indeed, I am extremely glad to hear that your husband will be returning home soon.’ Eleanor kissed her warmly. ‘I am very happy for you.’

    Charlotte bustled to the door, smiling. ‘And now it is time for me to be very happy on your behalf.’

    ‘Yes, we must go down. But where is Louisa? She has been gone an hour, at least. I hope she will not miss the arrival of the bridal carriage, for we shall not be able to wait for her.’

    ‘Oh, I’m sure she will return in time. Why, I saw her earlier, getting into Nathaniel’s carriage.’

    Eleanor turned at once, staring at her betrothed’s sister. ‘You saw Louisa getting into … ?’

    Surprise had made her voice high. She sought to stay calm, feeling her maid’s sharp gaze on her face. The last thing she wanted was for Suzanne to suspect there might be something wrong between herself and Nathaniel, who was already the devil in human form as far as her over-protective maid was concerned.

    ‘But no, you must be mistaken. Louisa had some trifling errand in town, that’s what she told me. Certainly she said nothing of seeing Nathaniel today.’

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