When Hannah returned to the study some five minutes later Charity was sitting at the desk, her head resting in her hands.
‘What in heaven's name do you think you are doing?'
Charity raised her head and wiped away the tears that trembled on the ends of her lashes.
‘Oh, I beg your pardon, but I was so overcome by the occasion that my legs refused to support me.' She pushed herself to her feet. ‘I have angered you, I should leave.'
‘You should come back when Phineas is here to see you,' replied Hannah, clearly uncomfortable. ‘I do not know what he would say if he knew you were here.'
‘Do you not think he would welcome this sinner back into the fold?' Charity gave a sad little smile. ‘Perhaps you are right, ma'am.' She went out into the hall, and Betty jumped to her feet at the sight of her mistress.
‘Are you staying in Beringham?' asked Hannah as she showed her guest out. ‘Can I send a servant to fetch you when Mr Weston comes home?'
‘Alas, no. I will write to my father and we will appoint a mutually convenient time to meet.' Charity put out her hand, then withdrew it again, saying with an arch look, ‘Ah, no. Perhaps we should not exchange such friendly gestures until we know my father's wishes upon the matter.' With a final, sad little smile Charity bid the astonished Hannah goodbye and sailed off down the street.
‘Oh, lordy, I don't know when I have ever been so frightened,' muttered Betty, hurrying along behind her.
‘I would have been a lot more frightened if Phineas had been present,' retorted Charity.
‘Aren't we going to look for Mr Durden?' asked the maid as Charity turned into the inn yard to collect the gig.
‘No. It is better if we are not seen together here. We meet at Wheelston, as agreed.'
* * *
Ross was waiting in the stables when the gig drove into the yard. He called to Jed to see to the horse and strode out to help Charity to alight.
‘I was never more relieved than when I saw you leave Weston's house,' he told her, masking his concern with a tone of indifference.
‘No more so than I,' she responded feelingly.
There was a hectic flush upon her cheeks and her eyes looked overbright. He wanted to fold her in his arms and tell her she was safe, but that could not be. If their suspicions were correct and they could prove Phineas to be a villain, then perhaps... He dare not even think so far ahead.
He suggested the maid should go into the kitchen, then turned back to Charity.
‘Let us go into the house and you can tell me all about it. I left instructions for a fire to be kindled in my study, and refreshments to be waiting there for us-ratafia or brandy. I thought you might need something stronger than tea.'
They did not speak again until they reached his study. Ross went over to the side table, where decanters were set out in readiness, and as he filled two glasses he watched Charity from the corner of his eye. She paced about the little room, stripping off her gloves and then pulling them through her hands with quick, nervous gestures.
‘My father has done very well for himself since I left home,' she said at last. ‘His house is overstuffed with every fashionable thing! Even my new stepmama is dressed in the highest kick of fashion, and very unbecomingly, too!'
She broke off, sending him a glance full of apology but he shrugged.
‘You may say what you like about Hannah. It is a long time since I thought of her with anything other than abhorrence.'
‘She is very pretty, but there is a hardness about her, a calculating look in her eye.'
‘She is a good mate for your father, then.'
He was pleased to hear her laugh, so much more natural than the brittle smile she had given him upon her arrival.
‘Yes, I think you are right. He will not be able to bully her as he did his other wives.'
‘And you had the opportunity to see the layout of the house?'
Her answering look positively brimmed with mischief.
‘Better than that. The diversion we planned worked very well. I was in the study when your messenger called, and Hannah was obliged to leave me alone for a while, but she thought I was reading from the Bible.' Again she laughed, the sound raising his spirits like sunshine. ‘I gave a performance worthy of the great Sarah Siddons herself. I rattled off Psalm Thirty-two in the grand manner. I am not Phineas Weston's daughter for nothing, and the psalms were drummed into me from an early age. However, it is fortunate that my new stepmama is not so familiar with the Bible as Phineas, for I pretended it had opened fortuitously at the Psalms, when in fact I was looking at Deuteronomy!'
She sank down in a chair beside the fire and accepted a glass of ratafia. Ross frowned when he saw the way her hands were shaking.
‘I should never have let you go there. It was not necessary-'
‘Oh, but it was for me. How can I be free of my past until I have faced it?' Her smile widened. ‘And I have the letter.'
‘You stole it! But when Phineas discovers that-'
‘No, no, I knew if I took it that Phineas would notice and be on his guard.' She laughed and pointed to her head. ‘It is in here. I memorised it. Now bring me paper and a pen and I shall write it all down for you.'
Chapter Ten
The sun was high in the cloudless blue sky when Ross rode into Scarborough. The restless waves of the German Ocean danced and glittered in the distance, and brought back all the old longing for the naval career that had been snatched away from him. Regret, bitter as gall, rose in his throat, but he forced it down. No point in worrying about what was past. It was the future that concerned him now, a future that might-if everything worked out-include Charity Weston.
During his ride to the coast he had recalled their evening together, how he had watched her as she sat at his desk, furiously writing down the letter she had memorised. She'd been too engrossed to look up and catch him off guard. He'd made the most of the opportunity, taking in the full glory of that shining hair, the long curling lashes that swept down over her eyes, the straight little nose and determined chin.
He'd wanted to kiss every part of her beautiful face, but most of all he'd wanted to kiss her mouth, to taste her again as he had in her dressing room, when her inexpert but fervent response had fired him with desire. He'd known other women, but none had roused him in quite the same way. He had watched her as she bent over the paper, and had thought how comfortable it was to have her with him. If only he could keep her there.
But what did he have to offer, save a crumbling estate and a drawer full of debts? Even if he could prove that Phineas was a spy, his own circumstances would not change. He remembered turning his eyes to the smoke-grimed ceiling, thinking he must be the most ineligible bachelor in Allingford.
Then some slight sound had brought his attention back to the table to see Charity sitting back in her chair, a little smile playing about those luscious red lips.
‘That is it. Complete, verbatim.'
She had covered two sheets of paper with elegant, sloping letters.
‘Surely not. How can you recall everything in such detail?'
‘It is a gift I have always had, to be able to read something and remember it easily, and my years in the theatre have only made it stronger. Trust me, this is word for word what was said in the letter.'
Trust me. He stared out now across the sunlit waves, smiling at the memory of Charity sitting in his chair, at his desk. His glorious golden girl. A cloud blocked the sun and the sudden chill brought him back to reality. She was not his and never would be, not while her father held such power.
He stabled his horse and made his way to a neat little house in a quiet side street, where he was informed by a bobbing maid that Captain Armstrong had gone to the spa to take the waters and had not yet returned. The delay was frustrating, but Ross realised it could have been worse, since his friend might well have left Scarborough without informing him. He therefore went off to while away a couple hours in the company of the seamen at the harbour.
* * *
When he returned to the house some hours later the same little maid informed him that Captain Armstrong was expecting him. He was shown into a small but comfortable parlour, where he found his friend sitting in a chair beside the window.
‘No, no, John, don't get up,' said Ross quickly, coming into the room.
‘Don't think I could if I tried,' came the laughing reply. ‘My energy is spent after going to the spa!'