Disgrace and Desire(31)

Mortimer was pulling angrily at the bedcovers.

‘Breakfast! I had rather you sent Farrell with a challenge to Deforge!’ He glowered. ‘He has gone too far this time. I won’t have it, Elle. I say let him publish and be damned to him, we’ll fight!’

Jack looked up quickly. ‘Why, what is Sir Ronald demanding?’

As Alex opened his mouth to speak, Eloise put up her hand, saying icily, ‘Major Clifton is no longer party to our plans, Alex.’

‘Gammon! If Jack had not rescued us last night we would have been in the devil of a fix!’ Alex turned his angry eyes towards him. ‘Deforge wants Eloise for his wife.’

‘The devil he does!’ Jack could not prevent the exclamation, nor the sudden, intense surge of possessiveness. No wonder she had looked so frightened when he had told her of his suspicions about Deforge. He wanted to gather her up in his arms but he knew that if he made any move towards her she would run away from him. Despite the fear he could see in her eyes, she bravely put up her chin.

‘That is nonsense, of course. I told him so last night.’

‘He must think his hold upon you very secure to suggest such a thing,’ Jack said slowly.

The lady was silent, but something in her countenance caused Alex to sit up.

‘Thunder and turf, you are not to think of giving in to that villain, Eloise!’

Jack saw a shadow cross her face but it was gone in an instant. Smiling, she reached out to push Alex gently back against his pillows.

‘No, of course not. Now lie still or you will set your shoulder bleeding.’

‘You are not to do anything until I am on my feet again.’ Alex grabbed her wrist. ‘Promise me, Elle! Clifton—you must look after her, make sure Deforge has no opportunity to bully her.’

‘By all means.’

She flushed.

‘That will not be necessary. I am going back to London in the morning. I shall tell Mrs Renwick that I have business to attend to.’

‘I would rather you remained here, under my eye,’ declared Alex.

She smiled at that.

‘A poor chaperon you would be, confined here in your room!’

Alex sighed. ‘I am sorry, love: I had thought for once I should be able to help you out of a scrape, but it seems I have only succeeded in causing you more problems.’

She squeezed his hand and smiled fondly at him.

‘You must not worry over me, Alex. We will deal with everything once you are well again.’

‘But you are determined to leave?’

‘Yes. There is plenty to occupy me in London. You know, I still have hopes that I might persuade Lord Berrow to sell me his land.’

Jack watched them, beating down the little demon of jealousy that gnawed at his insides. They were not lovers—he knew that now—but they were very close and they shared secrets that he was not privy to. His frown deepened as he realised how much he wanted Eloise to trust him as she trusted Mortimer. She kissed Alex’s cheek and moved towards the door.

‘Wait,’ said Jack. ‘Let me go first, to make sure there is no one to see you.’

Silently he checked that the passage was empty and preceded her down the stairs. When they reached the great hall the faint sound of voices could be heard coming from the drawing room. Jack stopped.

‘Will you join them?’

Eloise shook her head.

‘I would rather not. I would like to be alone. I think I shall go to my bedchamber.’

Even as she uttered the words the door of the drawing room opened and Lady Parham’s shrill voice could be heard. It could only be a matter of moments before they were spotted and Jack knew that the lady would insist upon carrying Eloise away with her. The hunted look in his companion’s blue eyes decided him. They were standing by the entrance to the long gallery. It was the work of an instant to whisk Eloise inside and shut the door.

He said, by way of explanation, ‘I thought perhaps you might prefer to avoid them.’

On the other side of the door he could hear Lady Parham talking with her hostess, their voices echoing through the marbled hall. Eloise moved away from him.

‘Thank you. I can find my way from here.’ She nodded dismissively and when he made no move she added sharply. ‘Please, you may leave me now.’

Jack smiled, his eyes flicking towards the door.

‘Would you throw me out? Lady Parham would be sure to pounce upon me and drag me in to tell them all how Mortimer goes on.’

A reluctant smile lurked in her eyes.

‘Surely you are not afraid of a group of ladies, Major.’

‘Terrified,’ he replied cheerfully. ‘I shall have to remain in here until I know it is safe to venture out.’ He moved further into the room. ‘Renwick has some fine paintings here; will you not take a few moments to look at them?’

She had been walking away from him but now she stopped, uncertain, and he added quickly, ‘If you are leaving in the morning you may not have another opportunity of seeing them in daylight.’

It was clear from her expression that she was torn between a desire to look at the pictures and a disinclination to be alone with him. At least she had not refused to stay. He pointed to the nearest painting and said in a matter-of-fact voice, ‘This Cuyp landscape is highly prized and this next is thought to be a Rembrandt, although there is some doubt about that: what do you think?’

She moved a little closer.

‘I cannot tell,’ she said slowly. ‘It is certainly very good, if it is a copy.’

‘But what of the colours, and the brushstrokes, are they not a little fine for Rembrandt?’

‘Not necessarily. I think his style changed when he grew older. And the subject matter, a biblical scene: this is typical of his later work.’

He regarded her with admiration.

‘And you say you are no connoisseur? I believe you misled us, my lady.’

‘My husband was very interested in the old masters. I picked up a little from following him around Florence and Rome.’

‘You would enjoy the Louvre, I think. Now Paris is free once more you might like to see it.’

‘Perhaps. One day.’

He smiled to himself, thinking how much he would like to escort her there. His previous visit had been in the company of his fellow officers: how much more enjoyable to be with someone who really appreciated art.

‘And who is this?’ Her soft, musical voice recalled him with a jolt. He cleared his throat.

‘This next is a portrait of one of Renwick’s ancestors—can you see the family resemblance?’

Jack moved slowly along the gallery, drawing her attention to various pictures, asking her opinion, searching his brain to drag up long-forgotten snippets of information about the artists. His patience was rewarded: gradually she relaxed and gave her attention to the paintings. He stood beside her, close but never touching, enjoying her company and amused by her forthright opinions. By the time they were halfway down the long gallery she was chattering away quite naturally. She even turned to him at one point, laughing at something he said. Jack found himself wishing the gallery were twice as long. He drew her attention to a small pen-and-ink drawing.

‘There is an interesting picture here of the house painted about sixty years ago, before it was remodelled into its present state.’

She stepped forwards for a closer look.

‘The formal gardens are much smaller, and there looks to be a village where the park is now.’

‘Yes, it was demolished by Renwick’s grandfather, to improve the view.’

‘Oh dear, and the villagers?’

‘You need not worry; he built houses for all his tenants on the far side of the Home Wood. They were delighted to have new, weatherproof houses. I hope my own people will feel the same.’

She turned to look at him, her blue eyes wide with surprise.

‘Are you evicting your tenants?’

He laughed at that.

‘No, no, but I plan to build better houses for them as and when the funds will allow.’

‘This is at Henchard, your estate in Staffordshire?’

He smiled, inordinately pleased that she had remembered.

‘Yes. I have a very good agent, who has been looking after matters while I have been away, but there is much to do and I plan to spend more time there in the future.’

‘And will you be content with such a quiet life, sir?’

‘Quiet? It will be hard work, improving my land and the lot of my tenants. The house needs to be enlarged, new kitchens built—do you think I cannot be happy unless I have a sword in my hand?’

‘No, of course not. I suppose I had not considered. I know so little about you, Major Clifton.’

‘There is a great deal we do not know about each other, my lady.’

A shy smile lit her eyes and Jack’s spirits soared. This was progress indeed: perhaps now he could talk to her about last night. As if reading his thoughts her cheeks flushed and she turned quickly back towards the paintings.

‘This is by Ricciardelli.’ She leaned forwards to read the label on the frame.

‘Yes.’ Jack nodded. ‘It is a particularly fine view of Naples—do you agree? I remember Tony telling me you visited Naples on your honeymoon.’

Jack clamped his mouth shut, cursing himself. Eloise’s face flamed. She turned to go and he reached out for her.

‘I beg your pardon. I did not mean to remind you of your marriage, if it was not happy.’