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At the Highwayman's Pleasure(16)

By:Sarah Mallory


‘Perhaps he was to blame for the parlous state of affairs-there is no  doubt that it could have been avoided if he had left the navy sooner and  taken charge of Wheelston-but I saw him soon after he returned and I  believe he was very much shocked by what he found, so perhaps he had not  realised...'

‘So everyone condemns him because he let his estate fall to pieces?'  Charity asked, incredulous. ‘Surely he is not the only landowner to be  guilty of such negligence-'

‘Oh, no, my dear, it is much worse than that.' Lady Beverley pulled her  closer. ‘He went off in search of his mother's companion and they rowed  terribly, so much so that he was charged with blasphemy.' Lady Beverley  sighed again. ‘I suppose he lost his temper. Being a sailor I have no  doubt that he was brought up to be familiar with all the most outrageous  curses and oaths!'

‘And do you think they had really been engaged to be married?'

Lady Beverley spread her hands. ‘It was a rumour, never confirmed. But  even if she jilted him, nothing can excuse him ripping up at her so  brutally. However, he has been severely punished for it. The conviction  for blasphemy barred him from holding any military appointment and he  was stripped of his captaincy. He could not return to sea and he has  been living at Wheelston ever since, doing his best to build the place  up again.'

‘So that was what he meant.'

Lady Beverley looked puzzled. ‘I beg your pardon, my dear?'

‘I asked Mr Durden why he had not gone back to sea and he said he'd had no choice. Poor man.'

‘Yes, but if he had not lost his temper and said such vile things then  he would not have found himself in that position. And he has shown no  contrition, no remorse for his error. That is why Mrs Tremayne was  giving you the hint, my dear, and she is right to urge caution. If the  man cannot control his temper, it would be very unwise for you to become  too friendly with him.'

‘I have not met Mr Durden often, but I had not thought him hot-headed,'  said Charity slowly. ‘And blasphemy is such an-an archaic charge. What  he said must have been very bad, otherwise I am sure Sir Mark would have  sent him away to cool down-'                       
       
           



       

‘Oh, my dear, the case did not come up before my husband! If only it  had, then the outcome might have been very different. No, Mr Durden was  charged in Beringham. You see, the young woman was married to the  magistrate by then and Mr Weston is the last man to forgive a  blasphemer.'

Charity blinked at her. ‘She is m-married to Phineas Weston?'

‘Why, yes! Apparently, soon after she left Wheelston she inherited a  small fortune from an aunt, which made her a very eligible match. I  suppose poor Mr Durden was distraught that she hadn't married him, for  that would have solved all his financial problems. No, no, it was  Phineas Weston who charged him with blasphemy. That might have gained Mr  Durden some sympathy in Allingford, had he not chosen to keep himself  so aloof.' She laughed. ‘Such a pity that you should have chosen to  style yourself as Mrs Weston, my dear. It is not at all a popular name  around here, you know.'

The familiar chill crept over Charity. Her father was still wrecking  lives, although now he was using the law as well as the Bible to justify  himself. Her eyes strayed back to Ross. No wonder he rarely smiled, if  he had been robbed of a promising career by a few ill-chosen words,  uttered under severe provocation.

She tried to put the matter from her mind as she worked her way around  the room, chatting to the rich patrons she already knew and charming the  new ones that Hywel introduced to her. There was no opportunity to  speak to Ross again, but she was very aware of him in the room. He spoke  to very few people and spent most of his time standing at the side of  the room. He was a man apart.

She blocked the thought. If she did not take care, she would be feeling  sorry for the gentleman, and that would never do. Her father had  frequently flown into a rage at the slightest provocation and she had  suffered the consequences. She had no intention of allowing her  sympathies to lead her into any kind of liaison with a penniless  hothead.

* * *

Her smile never faltered, and she continued to chatter and laugh as if  she had not a care in the world, yet Charity was exceedingly tired. She  longed to send for Betty and to take her leave. However, there were  still a number of people seeking her out and it was nearly an hour  before she could go in search of Hywel Jenkin. She found him talking to a  little group that included Ross Durden as well as Sir Mark and Lady  Beverley. Charity hesitated, wondering if she should wait until Hywel  was alone, but the hour was advanced and she was longing to go home.

Hywel smiled as she came up beside him.

‘Ah, and here is the leading light of our group of players!'

‘I wonder how you manage it, Mrs Weston,' declared Sir Mark. ‘To be  performing night after night and then to stay up to all hours,  entertaining us with your sparkling wit and conversation. It must be  very fatiguing.'

‘One grows accustomed.' Charity included them all in her smile, her eyes sliding away from Ross Durden's dark, intense gaze.

However, it seemed he was determined to gain her attention, for he  asked her quietly, ‘And when is your next performance, Mrs Weston?'

His deep voice was like warm velvet on her skin. Ideas and half-formed  sentences chased around in her head. She had heeded the warnings to  avoid Ross Durden, but now realised that she had spent the entire  evening thinking of him, wanting to impress him by saying something  witty and clever. Now when she had her chance, she could not even open  her lips! She was relieved when Hywel answered.

‘The first week in April, sir. We are presenting The Clandestine Marriage.'

‘Ah, that is a particular favourite of mine!' exclaimed Lady Beverley.  ‘And Mrs Weston is to play Fanny, am I correct? Of course I am, for who  else could play the beautiful young heroine? But April? Why, that is  weeks away. How are we to entertain ourselves until then?'

‘We must allow our players a little break before we begin rehearsals,' Hywel responded. ‘They need a holiday.'

Charity met his smiling gaze and chuckled.

‘We need our sleep, too, so I will bid you all adieu.'

Lady Beverley put out her hand.

‘Before you go, Mrs Weston, pray tell me you will come to my little  soirée on Tuesday next? Just a few friends, you know, and you need do  nothing but come and enjoy yourself.' She continued with an arch smile,  ‘Now, I will not take a refusal, since Mr Jenkin has just told us you  will not be playing.'

‘Then I shall do my best to attend, ma'am.'

Laughing, Charity took her leave and went off to find her maid. She  half expected Ross to offer to escort her home and knew a moment's  disappointment when he did not come after her.                       
       
           



       

All the better for you, my girl, she told herself crossly. That gentleman is taking up far too much of your thoughts!

* * *

The weather had remained cold, but now it took an icy turn and Charity  was glad to stay indoors, although not for long. It took her no more  than a couple days to catch up on her correspondence and to set the  little house in order, and after that she began to miss her usual busy  schedule. With the theatre closed and rehearsals for The Clandestine  Marriage not yet started, Hywel and Will Stamp had gone off to enjoy a  little hunting in the West Riding, and many of the other actors had  taken the opportunity to visit family or friends. Charity would not have  minded being alone in Allingford, had not a fall of snow on the icy  roads made it too treacherous to hire the gig and go out exploring.

By Tuesday, the day of Lady Beverley's evening party, Charity was  longing for company and an evening of pleasure and entertainment, but  those thoughts were driven from her mind when Betty came in with her  morning hot chocolate. One look at the maid's flushed cheeks and heavy  eyes was enough to have Charity scrambling out of bed and ordering her  to go and lie down immediately.

‘Aye, that I will, Miss Charity, just as soon as-'

‘As soon as nothing,' said Charity firmly, taking the cup from her  hands. ‘You will go to bed this minute and I shall bring you a soothing  tisane to help you sleep. No, do not argue with me, if you please. You  will recover very much quicker if you do as I say.'

She shooed her maid away and put on her wrap. Thankfully Thomas, her  manservant, had kept the fire burning in the kitchen, so it did not take  her long to boil a little water to steep the mixture of elderflower,  peppermint and yarrow that she had found in Betty's herb store.